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Authors: Trish Morey

BOOK: Stone Castles
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‘Another . . . man friend?'

‘What is your point?'

‘Just curious. Only that I didn't see you warning Adam off about your special friend back in New York City. Could it be that Chad is just an imaginary friend, Pip?

‘Sorry to disappoint you, but Chad's real, Luke. Very real.'

‘Only not real enough to warn Adam about.'

‘Adam didn't kiss me.'

‘Well he sure looked like he wouldn't say no.'

‘Don't be ridiculous.'

‘What colour are Adam's eyes, Pip?'

‘Why?'

He shrugged. ‘Just curious. I mean, small towns 'n' all. What did his dad do? Oh, that's right,' he continued, not waiting for an answer. ‘He was a copper too, wasn't he. Must have known just about everyone in town. And you know how things can happen, between consenting adults and all. Ah, here we go.'

He pulled the car into the driveway that led to the big turnaround area beside the house. The dogs came running and Turbo stood to attention, ears pricked, ready for action.

Craig was kneeling out front by the white house fence, pumping up a tyre on one of the kids' bikes and Pip saw him look up at the ute's approach, a frown knitting his brow.

‘Luke Trenorden,' she said, holding her crockery chips in one hand as she swung the door open and climbed out with Turbo in close pursuit, ‘I do believe you're jealous.'

‘Ha,' he called after her. ‘You wish.' But curse the woman to hell and back, she had a point.

Craig nodded as Pip walked by, and then wandered over to the ute, leaning his butt against the front fender and wiping his hands. ‘Trace said you'd offered Pip a lift. I told her she must have been dreaming.'

‘Not dreaming.' More like a nightmare.

‘So where's the Audi?'

‘Someone forgot her car key.'

Craig smiled and looked over at the house where Pip had disappeared. ‘Get out of here. So, er, where you guys been all this time then?'

Luke scowled and scooted imaginary dust from his pants. ‘I showed her that furniture I've been storing. Thought it was about time someone worked out what to do with it.'

‘Yeah? Any good?'

‘Pip seems to think it might be useful for Trace in the B&B. I don't think she plans on carting it all the way back to New York.'

‘Nah. Guess not.' He looked up at the sky. ‘Hey, it's getting late. You want to stay for dinner? Got a leg of lamb in the Weber. Pip can't get enough of it apparently. Trace won't mind one more.'

‘Nope. I don't think Pip would appreciate that. I've just been on the receiving end of the boyfriend-back-in-New York lecture. I wouldn't want her to think I was stalking her or something.'

Craig's eyebrow arched. ‘What did you try to deserve that then?'

‘Beats me,' he lied.

‘Well, from what Trace says, this Brad bloke –'

‘Chad.'

‘What?'

‘His name is Chad. Not Brad.'

‘Oh, right, anyway, he's not really a boyfriend so much as a sleepover friend.'

‘What?'

‘You know. What do they call it? Friends with benefits?'

‘You mean like a fuck buddy?'

Craig's eyes opened wide. ‘Is that what they call it these days? Boy, am I out of the loop.'

‘Anyway,' Luke said, having heard enough, ‘I better get going.' He whistled for his dog and Turbo came barrelling around the back of the house with the other dogs barking madly behind him, looking like he was having the time of his life and surely his master must be joking.

‘A fuck buddy, huh,' he said, as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the dirt road to the highway. ‘Maybe that's our problem.' Turbo whimpered and looked up at him as if he was on the same wavelength, as he tried not to think about how long it had been. ‘Maybe that's what we both need.'

Pip was digging in the fridge for that half-empty bottle of wine she knew was there somewhere when Tracey came in and found her.

‘Hey,' she said, as Pip straightened, pulling out the bottle and grabbing a glass from the cupboard. And then her eyes widened. ‘Bloody hell,' she said, taking in the dog haired dress, messy hair and scuffed shoes. ‘What happened to you?

‘Luke happened to me.' And then she put a finger to her lips and shook her head and said, ‘No. Don't ask.' She waved the bottle. ‘You want one of these?'

‘No, but then I've got a feeling there might not be enough for the both of us in that bottle.'

Pip shook it to gauge how much was left inside. ‘We got any more of this?'

‘Is the Pope a Catholic?'

‘I don't know. I don't care. So long as he doesn't want any of my wine.'

Tracey frowned. ‘Oh boy. We are so going to have a good lunch tomorrow.'

‘What lunch?'

‘Fi called and suggested lunch at the pub if she's up to it, seeing she had to leave early today and the funeral's on Wednesday. She wants to see you as much as she can before you go, and we thought maybe lunch. Possible?'

She nodded. ‘Lunch with the girls is a very good idea.' She needed to talk to women. Women who knew her and her past and wouldn't judge her. Or maybe just wouldn't judge her too harshly. ‘And while we're there, if it's not too much trouble, maybe you can drop me off at the nursing home to pick up the Audi.'

Tracey glanced out the window. ‘But I thought Luke was dropping you there this afternoon.'

She shook her head sadly. ‘That was the plan, wasn't it?' Even if it had never been a good one.

‘What happened?'

Pip gulped down some wine before topping up her glass on a long sigh. ‘Someone who shall remain nameless changed purses and forgot the sodding car key, didn't she.'

‘Ah,' and Tracey suppressed a grin and looked her over again, taking in her dust scuffed dress and shoes and her wayward hair. ‘So, you've been with Luke this whole time, huh?'

‘Yup.'

‘Doing what?'

Pip glared at her friend over her glass. ‘He took me out to his place. Turns out he's been storing some furniture for me.' She paused. ‘I hadn't expected . . . Trace, I didn't know about the house being bulldozed.'

‘Oh god. You didn't know? I'm so sorry, we only learned about it one day when we drove by a couple of years back and it was already gone. But I didn't think . . . I didn't realise –'

‘It's okay,' she said, shaking her head. ‘Why should anyone have told me? We hadn't lived there for years and it never really was ours. I just wasn't expecting . . .'

Tracey frowned and put a hand to Pip's shoulder, rubbing it. ‘So how was it?'

‘Rough,' she answered honestly, shaking her head. ‘It felt like the first eighteen years of my life had been wiped from the face of the earth.'

‘I'm so sorry you weren't warned.'

She shrugged. ‘Luke took me to the old stone mounds where they'd piled up the rubble and I found a few bits of Gran's old crockery.' She waved her glass in the direction of the few bits she'd put on a corner of the big table when she'd come in. Her friend frowned. ‘Mad, I know, but I couldn't leave them there. Anyhow, somehow a few bits of furniture survived with Luke and they look okay. I thought they might do for the B&B if you can use them.' She pulled out her phone and found the photos she'd snapped. ‘Our old kitchen sideboard would look so good on that blank wall, and there's our old Singer treadle sewing machine and Gran's old writing bureau. They'd be brilliant, Trace, if you could fit them in, and I'd be so happy if they could find a home.'

Tracey's eyes opened wide as she flicked through the photos. ‘I remember that kitchen dresser.' She looked at the slivers and curves of crockery on the table. ‘Wow. It was so pretty with all that blue and white crockery on display. But are you sure you don't want to take them with you? So you have a piece of your history over there?'

‘No. There's no room where I live and they wouldn't fit the decor anyway. It would be pointless.'

‘Okay. Then how about I agree to look after them for you, until you come back.'

‘Trace, really?'

‘Yeah, really,' her friend said with a grin. ‘Until you come back. Never say never.'

Chapter Seventeen

T
he spa was deep and delicious and bubbly. The riesling was smooth and fruity and still. The scented candles were lit and delicately perfuming the air. A blissful combination. Pip rested her head back on a rolled up towel on the edge of the spa and closed her eyes and let the jets massage her weary body. It had been a long day. She so deserved this.

Her phone pinged and she glanced at it. Carmen. She was smiling even before she opened the message.

OMG! He's gorgeous!

He's okay. Yeah.

So?

So what?

!!!

Pip giggled.

???

Are you seeing him again?

I don't know. Maybe.

Holiday fling?

Pip's thumb hesitated. There wasn't a whole lot of time left for any kind of fling, even if he wasn't from around here. And even if he wasn't . . .

When he'd supported her arm going into church he'd smelled good, and when he'd wrapped his arm around her to take the selfie he'd felt warm and strong. It had been nice to have a little male attention when Luke's arrival had sent her senses into a tailspin.

But he hadn't made her heart race, like Luke had, when his eyes had been on her mouth and his lips mere centimetres away. He hadn't made her blood fizz and her senses tingle. He hadn't made her have to fight to keep control.

But then she and Luke had history. He was bound to set her senses to red alert.

Nah. Saving him for you.

A souvenir? For me?

He thinks you're cute.

Huh?

I showed him your selfie on the sofa.

Oh no! I looked like a dork!

I think he likes dorks.

You just ruined a beautiful romance. Hey, gotta run. xx

Pip sent kisses back and then put her phone down on the side table and rested her head back on the towel, wanting to wipe her memory clean of everything after the christening.

Well, maybe not the furniture and that feeling of being back in their big old kitchen when she'd opened the door of the dresser. Strange how she'd filed away that memory without even registering it. Strange that it had the power to transport her back to the past in a moment.

To when times were good.

To when she'd had her family around her.

To before.

But as for the arguments and the handholding and that damned kiss that should never have happened. What was that about? What was she thinking?

That was the problem right there.

Because she hadn't been thinking at all.

She'd been sideswiped by that damned emotion and there hadn't been room for thinking.

Fool.

If only she could wipe it all clean.

Wipe away the mistakes and the blunders as thoroughly as they'd wiped away any trace of her old home.

On a whim she picked up her phone again and flicked to the photos she'd taken, scrolling through them, the sewing machine table, the writing bureau and the dresser, smiling until she reached the one where she'd captured Luke's reflection in the glass. He'd moved away so she could take her photos but she'd caught him standing behind her, his white shirt undone at the collar, his shoulders broad and the tilt of his head telling her he'd been watching her. A tremor, warm and tingling, rolled through her.

What had he been thinking? A minute later they'd been kissing.

And if she hadn't stopped him?

Thank god she'd stopped him.

Five minutes more and there'd have been no doubt what he'd be thinking.

She hauled herself out of the spa, remembering Luke's face set like stone in his outrage. In his deadset rejection of the possibility that his dad and her mum could have had an affair.

Well, she didn't really believe it either.

But she had to believe something.

Chapter Eighteen

‘S
o who's minding the shop?' Tracey asked.

Pip, Tracey and Fi were reading the menu at a table on the verandah outside the Moonta Hotel. Baby Chloe was fast asleep in her pram alongside, still recovering from the big day before.

‘Amber.' Fi was still looking a bit seedy, but nowhere near as grey as she'd been the day before, something she swore was down to the discovery of ginger tea. ‘She's the girl you met when you bought that bunch of flowers the other day. That's something else I have to sort out too . . .'

‘Why?'

‘Well, she's a nice girl, but a bit slow in the uptake department, if you know what I mean. I don't mind leaving her for short periods, but . . . I just don't know what's going to happen there.' She shook her head as she looked up from her menu. ‘Anyway, what are you guys having?'

‘Fish and chips,' said Tracey, nodding.

Pip put her menu down. ‘Salt and pepper squid for me.'

‘I'm having the steak.'

‘I don't know why you bother looking at the menu,' said Trace, with a smile.

‘I can't help it,' Fi said. ‘I'm craving red meat.'

‘Gotta feed your inner vampire,' said Pip. She went inside to order, insisting it was her treat, and came back laden with plates and cutlery and bread rolls. And then did another run for some sparkling water.

‘Okay,' said Fi, helping herself to a roll, ‘so what did I miss yesterday? I hear you and Luke patched things up.'

Pip scowled at Tracey. ‘What?'

‘Well, Trace said you'd gone off with him. I figured something major must have happened for you to get in the same car.'

Pip scoffed. ‘You must be kidding. I didn't “go off” with him. He gave me a lift, that's all.'

‘That's not all,' said Tracey, buttering her own roll. ‘There's heaps more.'

‘Hey, whose side are you on?'

Tracey leaned towards Fi. ‘Luke took Pip out to his place.'

‘Tracey!'

‘What?' she said innocently.

‘Do you mind?'

‘Well, if you're not going to tell her, I will.'

‘All right.' Pip sighed. ‘It's all perfectly innocent. Luke's been storing some of the furniture from the old place in his shed and he wanted to find out what I wanted to do with it. So I took a look and then he dropped me back at the farm. End of story.'

Fi looked from one friend to the other. ‘That's it?'

Pip shrugged. She wasn't going to get into the emotion of learning her old place had been bulldozed and everything that had come after. ‘That's it.'

Across the table Fi sighed. ‘Oh, well, that's a shame.'

‘How do you figure that?'

‘Because if you two got back together then you'd have to come home from New York and we'd get to see you more often.'

Pip smiled. ‘That's really sweet of you, Fi, but that's not going to happen. There's way too much water under the fridge.'

‘Luke kept your fridge?' asked a grinning Fi and Pip laughed.

‘Besides,' said Tracey, ‘she still hasn't forgiven him yet.'

‘Really? That's a bit rough,' Fi said, munching on her bread. ‘It was such a long time ago, and besides, it was hardly his fault.'

‘Hey, you guys, I just paid for your lunch,' she said, only half joking, ‘The least you could do is be a bit more supportive.'

‘We do support you,' Fi said.

‘We love you,' Tracey added, ‘It's just, well, Luke did kind of get the rough end of the stick.'

Pip almost choked on a piece of bread roll. ‘What?'

‘Look, it's understandable. You were eighteen and you'd just lost your family and your gran was going downhill fast. You were hurting. You were looking for answers. Of course you were going to lash out. It just happened to be Luke who copped it. But he's a good man, however you think he might have wronged you in the past.'

She sniffed. Any minute now they'd be trying to make her feel sorry for the man. Why couldn't they see? ‘Luke got everything he had coming to him. If he hadn't kept his damned secret to himself, I might have had a chance to find out who my real father was – I might have had a chance to ask. Have you guys got any idea what it's like to turn up for medical appointments and be questioned about the medical history of my family, and I can't answer half the questions because I don't even know who my biological father was? And that's only a fraction of it. Because this is about me. It's about who I am. How can I know who I really am without knowing something so fundamental?' She held up her hands, appealing to her friends to understand. ‘Surely I have a right to know who my biological father was. If Luke had filled me in, I might have had a chance to by now.'

‘Hey Pip,' said Fi, ‘I know it's been tough, but isn't it time you stopped blaming Luke? So he overheard someone talking and he didn't tell you. So what? How was he supposed to know it might be true? I sure never heard a whisper. Not until you told me afterwards.'

Tracey nodded. ‘Nor me. And our mums were so close. If there was some shady secret around, surely I would have heard something?'

Pip searched for words that would give her traction, in an argument that was rapidly turning to loose sand. ‘If he'd only told me . . .'

Tracey threw her hands up into the air. ‘Oh come on, Pip, and what would you have done if he had? How could it have fixed things?'

Chloe stirred then, snuffling and whinging, and Tracey reached over and took the pram's handle, rocking it gently. ‘You know, Pip,' she said, more measuredly this time, ‘I'm sure it's rough, not knowing, always having that question going unanswered in your mind, but you're not the only one with father issues. Sometimes it's not all that great knowing who your father was – especially when you know he was a lying, cheating scumbag. I was just a baby and
my
fabulous biological father was dropping his pants and spreading his biology far and wide for any passing bit of skirt. I'm so proud that my mum had enough guts to get rid of him, even if it meant she'd be a single mum and I'd grow up without a dad. At least you had Gerald when you were a kid. Even if he wasn't your biological father, he loved you, and your mother and brother.'

Ouch!

Tracey's words left her stunned and reeling, but hadn't she deserved every bit of it? She blinked and excused herself and headed for the bathroom, where she sat in a stall and let the words of the last ten minutes wash over her. And where she realised that it was about her, all right. And only about her.

Tracey had been so right. She
was
lucky enough to have a great dad in Gerald. He was the best. A memory flashed in her mind of them all going to the Kadina Show, and how he'd picked her up over his head and she'd sat on his broad shoulders as he strode past the stalls and rides, laughing with the thrill of being so high off the ground, but feeling safe because she knew he would never let her fall.

He'd never let her fall.

Had she ever told him how much she'd loved him?

Did he know?

And now she was so focused on the father who had never been part of her life that she was as good as dishonouring the memory of the man who had taken that role and had been that person.

She put her shaking head in her hands and then lifted it on a sigh. It was time she was getting back. She washed her hands and dried them on paper towel, all the while looking at her reflection and at her troubled eyes. She'd known it wasn't going to be easy coming back, but she'd never for a moment realised how hard it would be.

Tracey and Fi looked relieved when she finally reappeared and sat down.

‘Hey,' said Tracey, putting a hand to her arm. ‘I'm sorry, that was bitchy.'

Pip held up a hand. ‘No, I deserved that. And you're absolutely right. You must be so sick of me banging on about everything. You'll be so happy when I go back to New York.'

‘I won't,' said Fi.

‘Me neither.'

Pip smiled, feeling humbled by friends who'd known her forever, known her warts and all, and yet were still her friends. ‘You guys are the best. I promise, no more whining about secrets and missing fathers. It's time I accepted how things are and put it behind me.' She took a deep breath, determined to be brighter company. ‘So that's that, then. How about we change the subject?' And then their meals arrived. ‘Brilliant, saved by the squid!'

Fi laughed. ‘Oh, it is so good to have you back in town. We are going to miss you.'

Tracey's fish and chips landed on the table next, looking golden and gorgeous and giving Pip serious food envy.

Fi's plate went down last, the steak almost as big as the plate, a pile of chips balanced precariously alongside. Fi unwrapped her steak knife and fork and grinned down at the plate like she'd just won the jackpot.

Pip looked at her size ten friend and said, ‘There is no way you are going to eat all that.'

‘Ha,' said Fi, grinning, already slicing the first chunk of steak. ‘Watch me. So, tell me about this furniture.'

So they chatted and ate and Pip told her about the sewing machine and the writing bureau and the dresser that had taken her back to their old kitchen, and showed her the photos, making sure nobody saw the one with Luke's reflection. Her squid was divine, the plump white spiced coils of squid deliciously melt-in-the-mouth tender, the salad fresh and crisp and dressed with a balsamic dressing, and the chips . . .

Oh boy, the chips. She intended trying just one. One wouldn't kill her. But that one was so packed with crunchy golden sinfulness that before she knew it her plate was empty and she was thinking about how many more spin and body pump classes she'd need to work this little lot off.

But she dismissed the calculation in the next thought.

Why worry about it now?

The spin and body pump classes were half a world away.

And it was so nice for a change to simply sit and enjoy a meal with friends she hardly ever saw. A pang of remorse hit deep. She was going to miss them more than ever when she left this time.

Across the table, Fi battled valiantly with the steak and looked like she was winning. ‘So,' she said, with a forkful of red meat primed and ready just centimetres from her mouth, ‘when do you pick up the furniture?'

Pip looked at Tracey and shook her head. ‘We haven't worked that out yet.'

‘I could send Craig to collect them if being around Luke is going to upset you,' Tracey said. ‘You looked a bit shattered when you got back to the farm yesterday.'

‘I was,' Pip said, because being with Luke had awakened all kinds of emotions that she'd thought long buried and probably should remain long buried. But at the same time, she felt strangely disappointed at the thought of not seeing Luke again. ‘Although I really should go through the drawers and clean out all Gran's old stuff.'

Fi put down her knife and fork and sat back in her chair with a long sigh.

Pip laughed. ‘You finished it!'

‘Told you.'

Tracey shook her head. ‘No bovine is safe when Fi is pregnant.' She turned to Pip. ‘What kind of stuff are you talking about?'

‘Just old letters and papers mostly. I should go through them.'

‘Your gran's papers?' Fi asked.

‘Yeah.'

And Fi frowned at Tracey and then both of them frowned at her and a sizzle went down her spine right there.

‘You've never looked through them before?'

‘No,' she said, her mind suddenly going a million miles an hour. ‘Because they were Gran's. I wouldn't look through her private papers.'

‘Maybe it's time you did.'

The cogs of Pip's mind whirred and meshed as she remembered the papers still sitting in the bureau. Old letters. Old documents. Anything could be in the old bureau. And a coiling buzz of excitement built in her stomach.

Could it be possible? Could there be some hint about her biological father hidden away amongst them all?

And did she really want to know?

Maybe Tracey was right. Maybe it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

But the possibility there might be an answer tucked away in Gran's old things was too ripe to resist.

‘Oh god, didn't I just say I was going to put this behind me?'

‘You have to look,' said Fi. ‘If there's a chance.'

Tracey nodded. ‘It's important to you. You've been carrying this around a long time. If there's an answer somewhere in those papers . . .'

She nodded.

Fifteen years ago she'd left in a white-hot rage. She hadn't bothered to look for anything then because she'd already affixed blame to the person she held responsible.

Luke.

She'd blamed him all along for her not knowing.

She'd been his judge, jury and executioner.

And she'd never thought to look . . .

She gazed at the faces of her friends, at their eyes filled with compassion and concern. ‘I better go look then.' And it would have to be soon because she left Friday and Gran's funeral was Wednesday. Which left tomorrow and Thursday – and Thursday was probably leaving it too late. She looked over at Tracey. ‘How about tomorrow? Could you come with me?'

And Tracey shook her head. ‘No can do. Tomorrow is Chloe's pre-natal class Christmas party and I'm taking the cake.'

Fi just held up her hands without being asked. ‘I really have to spend some time in the shop. Someone has to make up for a bit of lost time. But if Luke's still working on the harvest it shouldn't be a problem. He won't even be there during the day. You'll have the place to yourself.'

That made sense, she told herself. She could be in and out while he was out there, doing his thing in the paddocks.

It could work.

And maybe she'd find something to change that lingering question mark in her mind into a full stop. And then she really could put it all behind her and move on with her life.

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