Outback Sunset, page 33
Hilary gasped as the full import of what he’d said sank in. ‘All these years, I’ve never thought of it in that light. For a long time, afterwards, it was difficult. Having to be friendly towards Stuart, Diane too, with the knowledge that if either of them wanted to hurt Matthew they could tell him what we’d done. It was a strain.’ She gave him a tentative, unsure smile. ‘So, all this … stays with us?’ She shook her head, her features tightening with concern. ‘If Bren found out …’
Curtis understood, perfectly. ‘He won’t learn the truth about his birth from me. That’s a promise.’
‘Good, but what about Nova?’
Nova might be a problem but he didn’t want his mother to know that. He forced a note of confidence into his voice. ‘She’ll be right. I’ll make sure she understands that it’s our secret.’
‘Well, after this … chat,’ she laughed nervously, ‘I think we’ve earned a drink. I certainly need one,’ Hilary said with feeling.
The ordeal was over, Curtis thought as he moved towards the large traymobile with its ample stock of liquor. A gin and tonic for his mother, a whisky on the rocks for himself. He was sure they would both be having more than one …
Nova stared at the fluorescently illuminated numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table: 11.20 p.m. She couldn’t sleep, her nerves were all a tingle because she was almost jumping out of her skin with anticipation and excitement. Curtis was back from Darwin. He had talked to his mother and she was in a lather of anxiety to learn what had been said. Hilary could have denied Diane’s story because she had more to lose than Diane — both of her sons’ love and respect.
She shrugged her shoulders in an I-couldn’t-care-less attitude as, in the darkness, she fished into her top drawer, found a bottle and took out a couple of pills. She swallowed them with a mouthful of water taken from the glass on the bedside table. So what if she had a habit, she could control it. Those dickhead psychiatrists at the sanatorium said she wouldn’t be able to but what did they know? Bloody nothing. Then she spared Curtis’s mother a moment’s sympathy — it was too bad about Hilary, but the woman had played around, had her fun and now the truth was out and she just had to wear it. What she cared about was Curtis, about him getting what was rightfully his so they could share it together. Amaroo would be Curtis’s, and hers, and how bloody marvellous that was going to be!
For a minute or two she listened for any noises in the flat. Her father and Fran had come in about an hour ago. Through the plasterboard walls she could hear Reg’s gentle snore, and Fran would be out for the count. The old duck got pretty tired these days. Amaroo days were long ones and helping Vanessa with Kyle guaranteed that she went to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
It was too hot for even a sheet so she got up, and without switching on the light, peered through the window. Curtis’s cottage was fifty metres away and she could see that the lights were on — he was still up. Dressing in shorts and a singlet top, she pulled on her daggy, elasticised boots, took her torch from the chest of drawers near the door before leaving her bedroom and tiptoed outside into the night’s steamy silence.
On the walk to Curtis’s cottage Nova stopped twice and almost turned around, curiously undecided as to whether she should push the issue to find out what Hilary had said. Go on, her inner voice encouraged, you want to know what the old crow said, don’t you? She moved forward, using the torch to light up the ground in front of her. What if Hilary had denied everything? That would make her look a dill and a half, and destroy any credibility she had with Curtis. Still, in spite of that possibility, she itched to know what had happened; she wouldn’t rest until she did.
Nova knocked gently on the front door, then turned the handle and opened it. The room reeked from the essence of liqueur whisky, Wild Turkey. She had to search the room to find Curtis. He sat slumped in an armchair facing the bookcase, only his profile was visible. A small table stood by the chair with a bottle and an empty glass on it. She thought he was asleep until, suddenly, his head and shoulders swivelled towards her.
‘Oh. It’s you …’ he said, his tone was gloomy in the extreme. He turned his head away.
Nova’s eyebrows shot up and she looked at the half empty bottle. Not a good sign. Curtis liked a drink or two though he wasn’t a patch on his brother, but he rarely touched Wild Turkey unless his intention was to get drunk quickly. She remembered that he’d got drunk a lot after Georgia had left and taken Regan with her. Standing inside the door she almost turned to leave, until she remembered that she had a stake in knowing. Her future happiness hinged on what Hilary had confessed to and what Curtis planned to do about it.
‘So,’ gathering her courage she sauntered towards him, pulled out one of the dining table chairs and sat opposite him, ‘How did it go in Darwin?’
The expression in his eyes was stormy. ‘It wasn’t a picnic.’
Good. She leant forward, eager to catch every word. ‘Tell me, what did Hilary say?’
Curtis didn’t answer straight away, deliberately taking his time. First he filled his glass again, picked it up and took a long swallow. ‘She corroborated what you said.’ He stared balefully at her. ‘Everything.’
‘Then you are Amaroo’s rightful heir.’ There was satisfaction in her voice. We’ve won, lovey, we’ve won. ‘Curtis, I’m so happy for you. Now we, I mean, you can do the things you’ve always wanted to do on the station. The improvements, herd diversification, so many of the things Bren vetoed.’ Almost unable to believe how easy it had been to manipulate the situation and put Curtis where she wanted him to be, she moved her chair closer, until their knees almost touched. ‘It’s going to be wonderful. You and me, and Amaroo. We’ll turn it into the best station in the Kimberley.’
Brows knitting in a frown at her choice of words — you and me and we’ll, he made no comment but said instead. ‘That’s not how it’s going to be. Bren’s a family man, and I have no intention of usurping him from his position at Amaroo. Mum and I decided that was for the best, that Bren’s confidence would be shattered if he knew the truth about his birth.’ And before she could comment on that he added in a serious tone, ‘I expect you not to tell anyone what you know. It’ll be our secret.’ He stared pointedly at her again. ‘I’d be very unhappy if, somehow, Bren found out about Stuart and Mum.’
Shit! Is he mad? Maybe we didn’t hear him right. The muscle at the side of her mouth began to jerk erratically. What was all this mumbo jumbo about Bren’s confidence being shattered — who cared a fig about that? She didn’t. And keeping what you know a secret! Doesn’t Curtis realise that you’ve done everything for him because you love him so much?
Breathing heavily, anger building inside her, she shouted, ‘To hell with pandering to Bren’s lack of confidence. I don’t give a rat’s arse about hurting his feelings.’ Tell him you’ve handed Amaroo to him on a platter and so far you haven’t heard a word of gratitude from him, prodded her little voice.
Nova nodded in response, her belligerent gaze narrowing to slits. ‘What’s in it for me, Curtis? What do I get out of your stupid, magnanimous gesture?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Curtis looked at her steadily, his features impassive as he scolded, ‘Keep your voice down. I don’t want Regan to hear anything. What were your expectations, Nova?’ He didn’t wait for her answer. ‘Did you expect me to thank you for being the catalyst that has the potential to tear my family apart? Did you? That isn’t going to happen.’ He shook his head firmly. ‘Bren will stay at Amaroo and I’m making plans to start my own station, somewhere in the Northern Territory. All I ask of you is that you keep what you know to yourself.’
‘B-but what about me, about us? I … I thought that when you knew, that we, I mean, you … you’d … ‘ What had she thought? That he’d be so overjoyed and so grateful that he would realise what a great team they made, and want to marry her. Yes, that was precisely what she had thought, dreamed, expected.
‘Aaah!’ He nodded, understanding. ‘That’s why you used the words you and me, and we’ll so easily. You thought I’d reward you for the information. What did you want, Nova, money or perhaps a financial interest in Amaroo as your reward?’ There was an edge to Curtis’s tone now and his expression hardened as he stroked his jaw contemplatively.
Stung by his tone she didn’t think the words through before she spoke. ‘I … I hoped that you’d appreciate me more, like me more and that we …’ Agitated, she began to clasp and unclasp her hands. Oh, shit, this wasn’t going well, not at all as she had planned. He was angry with her because she had caused trouble between himself and Hilary, and while he now knew that Amaroo was rightfully his … It’s obvious he doesn’t have the will to reach out and take it. What a fool your Curtis is.
‘You’re too soft, Curtis,’ Nova lashed out at him. ‘I’ve given you the power to take what you want but you’re too … too …’ there was no other word for it, ‘gutless.’
‘Gutless, am I? Has your brain become so warped by the stuff you’ve put into your body — I have noticed that you still have a habit.’ His eyebrows lifted meaningfully, ‘That you can’t see that it takes real guts to walk away from the place you’ve cherished all your life and start from scratch somewhere else. That takes courage, Nova, courage.’ His tone was scathing as he added, ‘Or are your brains too stuffed up to work it out?’
She didn’t want to listen to what he was saying, the harshness in his voice, the criticism, the flintlike expression in his eyes — hurt too much. The inner voice was getting louder and more insistent, making her head spin and something — anger, frustration, disappointment — was pounding in her head, driving her crazy, making her say things she knew she would regret but she couldn’t stop them. Everything was unravelling, she was unravelling, inside. Her love meant nothing to him; he wasn’t interested. Her plans, dreams, hopes were shattering into a million pieces. Oh, God, she hurt all over, a deep dark hurt, the kind of hurting that would never go away. Her arms went around her torso and she hugged herself in an attempt to contain the pain.
‘You’re not running off because of Bren, it’s because of her,’ she spat at him. That’s right, tell him that you know about her. ‘You’re in love with Vanessa and you can’t stand it ’cause she doesn’t care one iota for you. That’s the real reason you’re leaving.’ A tense silence enveloped the room before he spoke and she knew he was mentally adjusting to the fact that she knew.
His cool expression gave nothing away as he said, ‘Who I love is none of your business. All I want from you is a promise to keep your mouth shut about what you know.’
‘Why should I? What do I care if everyone in the Kimberley knows? People in the outback like a good scandal as much as anyone else.’
Curtis rammed the glass down on the table next to him with so much force that it broke into several pieces. ‘Because if you do, some of the muck will stick to you. People don’t like scandalmongers either, people who manipulate things to better their position. If you spread this information around I’ll counteract it with a rumour of my own: that you did it because you expected me to be so grateful that I’d marry you.’ He noted her sharp intake of breath before he continued. ‘That wouldn’t look good in the media, with you being a nationally known TV presenter and a country and western singer.’
She gasped. ‘How did you know that I …?’
‘Blind Freddie could work it out. I’m sorry you thought there was a chance that might happen but I could never be in love with you,’ he shook his head sadly, ‘even if I didn’t care for someone else.’
She winced as if he had hit her. The rotten bastard. He’s a mean, heartless man. He doesn’t deserve your love, Nova. He didn’t, she agreed, but Curtis was right about one thing, she thought, her instinct for survival taking over. If she couldn’t have him and Amaroo, the only thing she could count on was her career, on being the best she could be and eclipsing Vanessa’s fame and good fortune. Unable to look at him, she jumped up from the chair, unmindful of the noise it made as it scraped against the stone floor.
She gave him what she hoped was a look of utter loathing, and whispered, ‘I hate you, Curtis. You’ve destroyed my dreams but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that you will never attain yours.’ Her laugh was short, and venomous. ‘You’ll never have Vanessa. Never.’ Straightening her spine and with considerable aplomb considering how upset she was, she let herself out of the cottage and began to walk back to her parents’ flat.
Curtis stared at the broken glass, the droplets of Wild Turkey lying on the table, then he ran a hand — it was a little unsteady — across his eyes and through his hair. Try as he might he couldn’t erase the memory of the crazed way Nova had looked when she’d understood that he wasn’t going to respond as she wanted him to. It made him wonder … was she unhinged? Possibly. He had had his doubts about her since she’d returned to Amaroo because she had become almost manic, needing to be near him, trying to please him. His head shook in consternation and realisation. Hell’s bells, he should have been smarter, seen the warning signs and done something before it got nasty and personal.
He leant back in the chair and tried to get his thoughts into some kind of order, which wasn’t easy. The last few days had been awful, and he wouldn’t want to repeat them. When he got back from Cadogan’s Run tomorrow, he would talk to Nova again. She would be calmer and more sensible then, he hoped. He would suggest she go back to Sydney because it would be best for everyone if she did, and not return to Amaroo for a very long time.
Nova didn’t go back to her room in the flat she shared with Reg and Fran. She was too het up, too devastated to sleep. She wanted to smash things, to hurt something because she was hurting. For a while she wandered around the property, shone her flashlight around the yard where they kept the horses, the chicken coop, poked her head into the saddle room. She couldn’t settle. She was so furious she wanted to scream for a very long time but couldn’t because the noise would wake everyone. Damn Curtis Selby. He had ruined her life, trod on her dreams, her feelings, told her how unimportant she was to him. It’s all right to hate him, her little voice said dispassionately to her, you’re too good for him anyway. He’d never fully appreciate someone like you, not like I do …
Her meanderings took her to the hangar where all kinds of machinery in various stages of repair or improvement were kept, including the bikes and a reconditioned engine Bren had bought to revitalise the Cessna. Tears of frustration and of loss, streamed down her face and onto her chest as she sat in the darkness on a wobbly stool, with only the flashlight to illuminate her surroundings.
It was over. Curtis didn’t want Amaroo badly enough. In his own way he’s as weak as Bren. She sat up straight, nodded in agreement with the voice inside. You should make him pay, big time.
‘I hate him,’ she said aloud and listened to the words echo hollowly around the large space. ‘I want to hurt him, like he’s hurt me.’ You can do it, you have the power to.
‘If I can’t have him no one will have him,’ she muttered. Then do something about it … You’re good at manipulating situations to your advantage.
‘Yes!’ Nova stood up so quickly the stool toppled over. Shining the torch on the Cessna then arcing the light towards the chopper parked outside the hangar, she smiled. Curtis was going to take the Cessna and fly to Cadogan’s Run tomorrow. She knew he would take the plane because the chopper needed new spark plugs fitted before it went up, and he wanted to be off at sunrise. Her smile became sly, contemplative and, coupled with her nervous twitch, made her appear maniacal.
She knew what had to be done; the voice was as good as telling her to do it … And then, she chuckled crazily, she had one more important thing to do before she went to bed …
Bren was as cranky as hell and he had been that way for several days. Recently, Curtis had gone off to Darwin and done his own thing and Vanessa had been less than enthusiastic when Harvey Timms, the architect, and Rollo Venuti, the builder, had come to discuss the home-stay development. Why was he bothering with it when he was the only one who could see its potential? Sometimes … He wished he could walk away from everything: from Amaroo, from his less than happy marriage, from the responsibilities that were growing, not diminishing, year after year. That was what he hated most, having to be responsible for it all. He knew he wasn’t always a good decision-maker, not like Vanessa and Curtis.
Those two seemed to have an in-built antenna on what worked and what wouldn’t work. Christ, the thought ran through his head and not for the first time either, perhaps he should sell the place and do as Stuart was suggesting, go into partnership with him in his tourism business. He sucked some more beer and, contemplating the possibilities, stared unseeingly at a boring television show.
It was well past midnight, he should go to bed. One eyebrow shot upwards … not a lot of joy there though. Vanessa had gone pretty cold on sex since she had miscarried, cold on him too. He had made a mistake back at the hospital, implying that the miscarriage had been for the best and that he wasn’t keen to have more children. It had been stupid to say so at the time, when she’d been distraught. Vanessa hadn’t forgiven him and a gut feeling told him that she never would.
He was finishing his beer when Vanessa, in her bedtime, over-sized T-shirt that fell to mid-thigh, came into the living room. Kyle had picked up a cold and because of the anti-rejection drugs he took, she worried about him and didn’t sleep well. She got up to check on him several times during the night. He saw her glance at the coffee table strewn with the development plans and the floor where he’d thrown several empty beer cans. He watched the annoyed frown wrinkle her brow and knew why: because beer or something stronger was what he resorted to when matters weren’t going the way he wanted them to. Without saying a word she was about to turn on her heel and return to bed when he touched her arm.
