Henny stood in the middle of the shop floor and looked around. The Matchbox had seen better days, that was for sure. The ugly dark-cream paint job that seemed to draw the walls in was peeling in places and Henny’s fingers itched to scrape it off. The room was in good repair otherwise but had an air of neglect and emptiness, which wasn’t surprising as it had been languishing as a storage area for years.
Aunt Janey had handed Henny the keys and given her free rein to do whatever she wanted with the place. The whole idea was thrilling and a little scary at the same time, but her excitement outweighed the fear and if she closed her eyes, Henny could see what this place was going to look like.
Henny picked up a stack of paint charts that she’d been poring over for the past few days and had finally narrowed it down to two colours: a barely-there blue called ‘Cloud’ or the equivalent in pale green named ‘Whisper’. Her hope was that either would help brighten up the space and also produce a calming feel.
There was a quick rap on the door before it swung open and Aunt Janey sailed in with a man in tow.
‘Hey, kiddo, have you picked the paint colour yet?’
Henny shook her head. ‘It’s down to two.’
‘Well I don’t mean to push you but do you think you could make a decision?’ Aunt Janey said with a smile. ‘Oh, where are my manners? Henny, this is Shaun Pearson. You probably remember his little brother Greg from school.’
‘I do. Hi, Shaun, it’s lovely to meet you,’ Henny replied. You could see the family resemblance; both Shaun and his brother shared a similar bone structure with dark-blond hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. But where Greg was wiry his brother had a stockier build.
‘Henny,’ he said with a nod and a smile.
‘Shaun and his team are painting your shop, so that’s why we need to know which colour you’re going with,’ Janey said.
‘Aunt Janey, you don’t have to—’
‘Of course I do, I want to,’ she said as she touched Henny’s arm. ‘So don’t make a fuss, just show me which colour.’
Henny held up the paint samples. ‘It’s down to Cloud or Whisper. Which one do you like?’
‘Not up to me, kiddo.’
Henny thought for a moment as she looked at the swatches. ‘Cloud—we’re going with the blue.’
Aunt Janey clapped her hands. ‘Excellent, we’ll get that organised.’
Shaun took the blue sample. ‘Just leave it with me, I’ll order the paint as soon as I leave here,’ he said. ‘All being well we should be able to start next Monday.’
‘Wow, that’s soon,’ Henny said with a smile.
‘Well, we’re between jobs at the moment. The crew just finished painting the old mansion last week and out next job starts in a fortnight.’
Henny frowned. ‘But will that be enough time to paint the shop?’
Shaun laughed. ‘Henny, have you seen how small this place is? We’ll get it done in no time.’
Henny smiled. ‘Well, I’m looking forward to seeing the finished product.’
‘Don’t worry, it’ll be beautiful,’ he said with a wink before heading out the door. ‘Ladies.’
***
With the painting now taken out of her hands, Henny went back to finding the things she needed for the shop. She’d already taken care of sourcing jewellery from Mia and so she turned her attention to one of her favourite pastimes—shopping online. She was looking for shop fittings and design ideas. Once she had discovered some interesting suppliers, she got around to finally calling Gemma about her scented candles. Gemma was at work at the hospital but Henny organised to catch up with her that night at seven. There was no use staying at the shop after that because until the place was painted there wasn’t too much to do—well, at least until she managed to track down some fittings and fixtures.
She swung by the post office and picked up the first batch of greeting cards that she’d ordered. Henny felt like a kid at Christmas as she drove back to her house, glancing repeatedly at the box sitting next to her on the passenger seat. She couldn’t wait to have a look.
Pulling into her drive she saw Stephen’s ute already parked out the front. He was standing on the front verandah and smiled as she got out of the car.
‘Hey there. I just dropped around in the hope that I’d catch you,’ he said, walking down the steps to meet her.
‘Hi, Stephen,’ Henny said before she scooted around to the other side of the car and grabbed the box off the seat. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah. Here, let me take that,’ he said, reaching for the box.
‘Thanks, but I’ve got it. It’s not heavy.’ She walked towards the house. ‘It’s the cards for the shop—I have to admit that now I’ve got them in my hands I don’t want to let them go.’
Stephen stepped back and grinned. ‘I get it. I wouldn’t want to either.’
‘What you can do is grab the keys,’ Henny said as she juggled to pass them over.
‘Sure.’
His fingers brushed against hers and she felt a warm tingle that had no business being there. Henny glanced back up at him and for a moment it was as if a veil had been parted. She saw him, really saw him, as if it was for the first time. This was the guy who had saved her and supported her without ever asking for anything in return.
‘Are you okay, Henny?’
Henny gave Stephen a quick smile and nodded. ‘Yeah, sorry—I guess I zoned out for a second.’
‘No worries, it happens to the best of us.’ He jiggled the key in the lock and opened the door. He stepped aside to let Henny through.
‘Thanks. So you never said why you dropped around,’ she said, heading to the lounge at the back of the house.
‘There were a couple of things. First, I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie this Saturday. The second is a bit more delicate.’ He followed her down the hall.
‘Well, that sounds mysterious and a little concerning,’ Henny said. She plonked the box down on the kitchen counter.
‘I guess I don’t mean it to be. It’s just that I’m not that good at saying things.’
Henny pulled out one of the kitchen stools and sat down, giving Stephen her undivided attention.
‘And now it comes to it, I’m not sure where to start.’
‘At the beginning is usually best,’ Henny said.
He blew out a breath as he sat down on the other stool and faced her. ‘Okay. I’m not a big one for gossip, but there’s some talk going around the town that you’ve been asking questions about Harley and his state of mind.’
Henny shrugged. ‘So maybe I have. It’s not a crime.’
‘Of course it isn’t, but apparently it’s been upsetting a few people.’
‘I don’t know why. I haven’t been asking anything outrageous, just stuff about how well a few people knew Harley. What have you heard?’
Stephen leant against the counter. ‘It’s more the questions about whether Harley was capable of suicide.’
‘Look, it was just a few questions to a handful of people. I hardly think that it would be enough to upset anyone. The general consensus is that it must have been an accident because Harley wouldn’t kill himself.’
‘I thought that we had all agreed on that?’
‘We had, but there’s this feeling I can’t shake that something else happened to Harley.’
‘All I’m saying is that there are some people in town that don’t like you asking questions.’
‘That’s usually a sign that they’re trying to cover something up.’
Stephen shook his head. ‘Nah, Hen, I think it has more to do with dragging up the past and having to relive it all again.’
‘That was never my intention.’
‘Maybe not, but one drowning at Killop Res makes you remember all the others—which of course is painful for the families and those who knew them.’
‘That’s true, but if it was something else then don’t we owe it to Harley to find out what really happened?’
‘But, Hen, you haven’t got any evidence—anything to hold up and say look at this. You keep saying that it’s a gut feeling but that’s not going to convince anyone.’
‘You’re right—maybe it’s time I looked for something concrete,’ Henny said.
He stared at her for a moment. ‘Henny . . .’
She reached over and took his hand, noting that damn tingle had returned. ‘Stephen, I swear I’m not making this up. Things just don’t add up with Harley’s death.’
‘They do if it was just a stupid accident. Come on, Hen, accidents happen all the time and no one can see them coming.’
‘Sure, but why on earth was Harley at the res in the first place, has anyone asked that? I mean, Dover Point is a long way from the res. Why was he there in the middle of the night? It makes no sense, unless he was meeting up with someone.’
‘Why on earth would you jump to that conclusion?’
‘No, think about it. Why would Harley be at the res? Harley was at the memorial but he and Dover left before the ceremony started and before I met up with you. So what was it that made him come back? Apparently he hated the place.’
‘So let’s just for a minute say that I agree with you. You’re saying that you think he was meeting someone that night, but who? And why would they want to hurt him? Harley was harmless.’
Henny gave a nod. ‘He was, but maybe he knew something or saw something he wasn’t meant to.’
‘That’s a lot of maybes.’
‘Look, you don’t have to agree with me but can you at least see the argument?’
Stephen was silent for a second or two before he said softly, ‘Sure, I can see it. I’m not at all convinced but it’s a theory.’ He frowned as he mulled it over a little more. ‘But as you said, why would Harley be up there in the middle of the night? There has to be a reason, one way or another.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Whatever it was, it must have been important to make him go there after dark—was he up there to take his own life, for some other reason, or was he was meeting someone?’