Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) (11 page)

She was relieved to have someone to
distract her from what was turning out to be a heartrending case. That morning,
the jury had heard James’s side of the story, which had been pretty much what
she’d expected. He’d explained that his relationship with Sarah had started out
as fun, but she’d turned serious quicker than he had, and he’d never really
returned her feelings for him. She’d pressured him into moving in together,
which he’d agreed to because he liked being with her and didn’t want to hurt
her feelings.

Honey had almost laughed out loud at that
point.

But Sarah had proved to be jealous,
possessive and temperamental, he’d continued to explain. She flew into a rage
if he came through the door ten minutes later than he said he would, and threw
accusations at him along with whatever was to hand, plates, glasses, TV
remotes, the occasional shoe. He tried to explain that he’d only been working
late, or on the odd occasion visited the local bar with his friends, but she
always assumed there was another woman involved—which there never was—and she
screamed at him until he had enough and walked out.

She grew lazy, spending her days in front
of the TV, refusing to go into work, and eventually lost her job. After that,
he struggled with what to do, knowing he couldn’t just throw her out onto the
street, but soon becoming aware that he didn’t want the relationship to
continue. He tried to talk to her father about it, but he didn’t want to know.
He couldn’t talk to Sarah, because every time he raised the subject, she flew
into a fit and screamed and then cried.

He thought about it for weeks, but in the
end made the decision on the spot. Yes, he’d come home late, and yes, he’d been
drinking, mainly because he’d been unwilling to go home as he knew what lay in
store for him. When he walked in, she started screaming, and he snapped, turned
around without another word and walked out. He never went back.

Not until the night in question, anyway. He
rang Sarah to tell her he’d like to collect some of his things, especially his
precious CD collection, as he hadn’t yet transferred them all onto his iPod.
Sarah refused, saying she wouldn’t let him in the house—the house he was still
paying the rent for. He checked with the landlord, who assured him he hadn’t
yet changed the locks, and then he told Sarah he’d be coming over to pick up his
stuff after he got back from a course in Auckland. It might be late, he told
her, probably after ten.

He got to the house at eleven—later than
he’d anticipated, but she’d always stayed up late watching TV, and he thought
she’d be up. He let himself in, realised from the darkness and silence that she
was in bed and, rather than confront her, decided to grab his stuff and run. In
the middle of packing up his CDs, he didn’t notice her until she was on top of
him, at which point she screamed his name, the blade in her hand. He didn’t
have time to react and the blade sliced his face. He wrested it from her,
grabbed his stuff and left for the hospital. They’d done their best, but his
face was permanently scarred.

The defence lawyer had cross-examined him
and succeeded a little in drawing out James’s feelings toward Sarah—that he
despised her for being weak, and that he hadn’t loved her for a long time. But
James had been convincing in painting her as a crazed, over-possessive
madwoman, and he looked cool and convincing in his navy suit, showing none of
the cruelness and manipulation Honey was certain he’d used on the defendant.

Sent the poor bastard to the gallows
yet?
Jasmine had asked.

 “I’m working on it,” Honey said.

Jasmine broke her muffins into pieces and ate
one. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

Honey sighed. She’d told her sisters a
little about the case the night before. “Unfortunately he’s not on trial, or
the answer would definitely be yes. But it’s the woman who’s on trial. And the
shame of it is that yes, I think she probably did know it was him that night,
and she did mean to wound him. But a conviction would be such an unfair result,
because it doesn’t take into account the years of torture I’m sure that man’s
put her through. It’s like a bully in the playground repeatedly shoving a
smaller child, and when the child finally reacts by standing up for itself, the
school expels the child rather than the bully.”

“Yeah, I see.” Jasmine picked up half of
her chicken roll and frowned at the contents. “Look at this. There’s about a
quarter of a chicken breast in here. It’s nearly all salad, and most of that’s
lettuce.”

“We do a much better job,” Honey agreed,
sipping her latte, which wasn’t hot enough or strong enough.

Jasmine ate the roll anyway, in spite of
her grimace. She studied her sister as she chewed. “Do you ever regret not
pressing charges? You know, with Ian?”

Honey shrugged, unused to discussing it. Although
her father had told all her siblings what had happened with Ian when she
returned home, she’d told him she didn’t want to talk about it, tongue-tied out
of a mixture of shame and misery, and he’d passed the message on. She’d only talked
it over with a therapist, not with her family. “It would be very difficult to
prove he did anything wrong. He never actually hit me—it was emotional and
mental abuse, not physical. And he had friends in high places who would no
doubt have helped him escape a sentence, even if we did make anything stick.
No, I’m just glad to have left him behind.”

Jasmine laid a hand on hers. “I’m sorry,”
she said in a low voice, and to Honey’s surprise, tears shone in her eyes. The
loud and confident Jasmine wasn’t prone to showing emotion, which made it all
the more startling.

“It’s okay,” Honey said awkwardly.

“It’s not okay. We should have realised
what was going on. I knew he was a bastard, but I didn’t think, you know? I was
too tied up in my own life, and with Mum. But we let you down, and we all feel
really bad about that.”

“You didn’t let me down. I let myself down.
I should have been stronger and stood up for myself more.” She cleared her
throat—she’d berated herself enough for that over the past few years and she
wasn’t going to do it again. “But it’s done now. The only people to blame are
myself, and Ian.”

“Even so. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it
to you, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Honey bit her lip as Jasmine met her gaze,
her eyes sincere. “Thanks,” was all she could manage, her throat tightening.

Jasmine smiled brightly. “Still, you have
Dex now, eh? And you’ll be married on Saturday and then off on honeymoon!”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Jasmine’s smile slipped. “What’s up?”

“I…” To her alarm, Honey’s eyes filled with
tears. “Oh crap.”

“Oh no.” Jasmine stared in alarm and shoved
a paper serviette in her hand. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just me being
over-emotional as usual.” Honey mopped her eyes. “I’m being stupid, I know. But
with Mum’s anniversary, and then this awful court case touching a nerve, I’m
worrying about everything.”

“What’s bothering you about Dex? Last time
I saw you both on Sunday, he looked like the cat that had been at the cream.”

“I know. Something happened on Monday, but
he won’t tell me what. At least, I think something happened. I’ve only spoken
on the phone to him since then, but he’s been distant. He didn’t want to come
and see me Monday night, or last night, and he was sharp with me. Dex is never
sharp with me.” She rubbed her nose.

“I’m sure it’s just nerves,” Jasmine
soothed. “After what happened last time, he’s bound to find the whole process nerve-racking.”

Honey frowned. “I don’t quite get the logic
of that. The idea of waiting to sleep together until we were married was
supposed to take the stress away. What does he have to worry about? I’m the one
who has to worry if he’s going to turn up, because his track record has proven
he has a habit of doing the opposite. I can’t pretend I’m pregnant. And until recently,
he didn’t show a bit of nerves. No, something happened to change his mind.”

She stared into her coffee. Had one of his
friends said something to put doubt in his mind? Something about the serious
nature of marriage, and about how awful it was to be tied to one girl? Was it
just sinking in about how it would be forever? Or was it about sex? Ian’s words
about her being boring in bed were always fluttering in her head like moths in
an attic. Maybe Dex was beginning to worry that Ian was right.

While they were making out, Dex had often
murmured the things he’d like to do to her once they were married, but Honey
had always been too shy to return the sexy talk, worried she’d say the wrong
thing and make him laugh. She’d always responded to him, and she was certain
that when they went to bed—even if she didn’t know every move in the
book—they’d have a great time because she loved him and wanted to please him. And
she enjoyed sex, or at least she thought she would, if she were with the right
man. But maybe Dex had taken her reticence as meaning she wasn’t keen on it.
Maybe she should have been more open with him about what they were going to do
when they finally got to the bedroom.

But she was who she was, and Dex had fallen
in love with the shy, uncertain girl—in fact he’d told her he adored her
relative innocence, and that she cleansed him and brought light into his life
where before there had been only darkness. There was no point in trying to
pretend to be someone she wasn’t.

She gave Jasmine a bright smile. “I’m sure
everything will be fine. It’s just me being me, you know what I’m like.”

“I wish you didn’t have this horrid case to
go through,” Jasmine said.

“Yeah, me too.” Honey checked her watch.
“And unfortunately, it’s time to go back there now. But thanks for lunch.”

The sisters hugged.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Jasmine
whispered in her ear. “You’re so lovely, Honey, you deserve to be happy.”

Honey smiled and kissed her goodbye, then
began the short walk to the courthouse. But Jasmine’s words played in her head.
You deserve to be happy.
The trouble was, not everyone got what they
deserved, or Sarah Green wouldn’t be the one on trial.

Dex was working at his computer when the
sergeant stuck his head around the door and said, “Someone to see you.”

Dex looked up, his heart pounding at the
thought that it might be Cathryn. “Who is it?”

“Dunno. But he’s got a cup of coffee for
you, lucky bastard.”

Koro? Dex rose, surprised, and walked
through the station to the front desk to see Cam Summers standing in the
doorway, looking up at the pink and red begonia in the baskets hanging to
either side of the building.

Dex opened the safety door and walked
across the empty waiting room. Honey’s father had never come to see him at the
station before. “Hey, what are you doing here? Is Honey okay?”

Cam turned. He held a takeaway cardboard
cup in his hand and offered it to Dex. “She’s fine—far as I know. Brought you a
coffee.”

“Thanks.” Dex took it and sipped it. Piping
hot latte, just what the doctor ordered. “Great, I appreciate it.”

Cam looked back out at the baskets. “Got a
minute?”

“Sure.” Dex’s stomach rumbled nervously as
he followed his father-in-law-to-be out of the station and across the neatly
tended lawns to a quiet spot. Cam was a big guy, several inches taller than
him, and built like a cart horse, although you’d never have guessed it from his
temperament. He was a gentle giant and Dex had never seen him lose his temper,
although Honey had told him she’d once watched him put his fist through a wall
after arguing with Marama.

They stood for a moment in companionable
silence. Cam closed his eyes and Dex did the same. The March sun—hanging onto
late summer by its fingernails—warmed his face, and the smell of the begonias
made him think of evenings by the pool with Honey and her family, and walking
with her by the river under the light of the moon.

Hopefully, he had many, many such evenings
to come after they were married. If only he didn’t have this guilt sitting in
his stomach like stodgy food, he would have thought himself the happiest man on
earth.

He opened his eyes as a shadow fell across
his face. Clouds bunched together over the sun, threatening rain. He’d checked
the weather every day that week, trying to see if Saturday would be clear. So
far the weathermen had promised sunshine. He hoped they were right—he wanted it
to be perfect for Honey.

“So how’s things?” Cam asked.

Dex glanced across at him. “Okay I guess. A
bit nervous.”

“That’s to be expected.” Cam turned his
stormy-blue eyes on Dex. “You still want to marry my daughter then?”

“Of course. More than anything.”

“So I’m not to think anything of the fact
that you were seen kissing another woman in plain view of State Highway Ten?”

Dex’s heart seemed to shudder to a stop.

For a long, long moment, the two men stared
at each other, Cam’s gaze hard, searching, Dex’s presumably radiating the
horror he felt inside.