The Lies We Tell (5 page)

“Studio?”

“I don’t think I should say more than that.” Mary took another sip. “Sia’s a private person. But you can ask her yourself, if you like.” She nodded her head at the same time the rumble of a car engine reached his ears.

Todd looked over his shoulder. A small white hatchback had pulled up in Mary’s driveway. As he watched, Sia got out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door behind her. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a neat bun and she was wearing a shirt emblazoned with the emblem of the RSL bowling club. His attention was then diverted when the other rear passenger door flung open and a small boy jumped out. He reached in, grabbed a bag then ran from the car and up the steps.

He screeched to a halt in front of Mary. “We’re here.”

“So I see.” Mary kissed the little boy, who Todd guessed would be about six.

“Where’s John?”

“In his room, playing.”

The boy disappeared. Todd’s attention returned to Sia who was now halfway up the stairs, holding the hand of a child a couple of years younger than the other.

In all his ruminations, he’d never considered that Sia would be married, or that she would have children.

“Thanks so much for this,” she said as she reached the verandah.

“Will you stop that?” Mary stood and first kissed Sia, then bent to give the child a hug. “You know I’m more than happy to look after Brock and Ebonny.”

“I’ve texted Sienna, but she’s in Bathurst studying today and tends to turn off her phone so I don’t know when she’ll get the message.” Sia took a bag off her shoulder and put it down next to Mary’s seat. “If you’ve not heard from her by six —”

“Assume she’s staying in town to study, won’t be back and I’ll keep the kids overnight. It’s fine, Sia. The least I can do after everything you’ve done for us.”

Sia reached and pushed a lock of blonde hair off the little girl’s forehead. The child — Ebonny, Todd guessed — grinned at Sia and Mary. “I’m so lucky.”

“We both are. Do you want a coffee?” Mary sat the little girl on the chair she’d vacated and bent to rummage through the bag.

“I can’t — I’m already close to being late for work. Love you.” Now it was Sia doing the kissing, planting a kiss on Mary’s forehead. She gave Charles a wave and then skipped back down the steps, ignoring Todd.

Todd watched Sia back the car down the driveway and leave. When he turned back to the table, it was to find Sia’s child staring quietly at him.

Todd looked the child over — blonde hair, just like her mother, but instead of Sia’s wide, deep brown eyes the baby’s sparkled blue.

“Cute kid,” he said.

Mary nuzzled her nose against the child’s downy hair. “I know as a mother I should think my own are the best, but Ebonny is the most beautiful little girl, inside and out. You’re a princess, aren’t you darling?”

“No, I’m a fairy,” the little girl said.

“Ah, a fairy today. That means — yes, Sia’s given us your fairy colouring book. Why don’t you do a pretty picture for me.” Mary put the open colouring book down in front of Ebonny, then pulled pencils and pens out of the bag.

“Okay.” Ebonny’s small mouth pursed as she looked over the pencils and carefully chose a pink one.

“The only four-year-old I know who will happily sit for a good hour or so and colour,” Mary said, picking up her tea. “If only I could be sure that mine would be the same.” She pointed to Amber, who was now scrambling on Charles’s lap, trying to reach Ebonny’s pencils.

With Mary busy with the children, Todd and Charles took their leave. Todd didn’t mind — he was pretty sure Charles would tell him the information that Mary wouldn’t.

“Sia’s children look just like her,” he said breezily as they walked next door.

“They’re not Sia’s kids. They’re her father’s. The whole town is hoping and praying that the alcohol has finally killed his sperm, cause Sia don’t need any more pressure.”

With every statement made about her, Sia’s life became more mysterious. “What do you mean?”

“You know that Frank Collins is the town drunk, right?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Has been for years now. Since they moved in from Black Springs four years ago, maybe even before that. Unfortunately, his last two lady friends were also just as fond of the bottle. Luckily for the kids, they didn’t want the responsibility of motherhood and cleared out after first Brock, then Ebonny was born.

“Frank, to give him his due, still has fatherly instincts enough not to abandon them but the bringing up of them has fallen to Sia. Sienna’s eighteen and does what she can to help, but Sia’s determined that her sister is going to have opportunities and makes her put her university study first. By now, Sia should be in the city, making it big but instead, she’s here in Oberon, working at the club to earn money and raising her brother and sister.”

“Sia should be making it big?” They’d reached Charles’ front door.

“Yeah. Painting. Here.” Charles went inside and returned moments later with a strip of cardboard in his hand. Todd saw it was the invitation to a launch of an exhibition in Sydney in two weeks time, and the artist’s name? Sia Collins.

“She managed a big sale of a piece about five years ago,” Charles said. “If she’d been able to go to Sydney and focus on painting then, she’d probably be a big wheel in the art world by now. As it is, this is the first solo exhibition she’s been able to pull together. Whole town is hoping that this might be it for her.”

Todd looked at the three images used to decorate the invitation. He wasn’t an art expert, but there was no doubt that Sia’s work was beautiful, searing. She had talent.

“Very impressive,” he said.

“Personally, I don’t think it will change Sia’s life much at all,” Charles said. “The creative life is such a fickle income stream that she’ll probably always have to work part-time, since she needs to support the kids. And she won’t leave Oberon until either her father sobers up so he can look after his children, or they’re old enough to look after themselves. I think life has dealt cards that will never suit Sia.”

Clutching the flyer in his hand, Todd thanked Charles and drove home.

He sat in the drivers seat and stared at the invitation. So Sia Collins’ life hadn’t turned out nicely for her. Karma did work from time to time. But that didn’t mean it didn’t deserve a helping hand and it could be this exhibition was where he could hit Sia where it really hurt.

He was tapping the invitation thoughtfully against his chin as he went inside.

Sienna didn’t call until eight o’clock, apologetic she’d only just arrived at her friend’s place and turned her mobile back on.

“I’ll grab a quick bite, then I’ll come back and get the kids,” she said. “I wouldn’t have come to Bathurst if I hadn’t thought Dad would stick around.”

Frank was still in town, but he’d taken himself off to the pub as soon as it opened. Sia foresaw that the fun half an hour they’d had the night before would be the best for a while.

“No, it’s fine,” Sia said. “Mary’s happy to keep them until the morning. You stay, so you can study again tomorrow. How’s it going?”

“I’m less panicked over my accounting exam, but only marginally,” Sienna said. “Thanks, sis.”

Sia got home from work at four in the morning. She checked and found her father snoring in his bed. Alone, thank goodness. It had been a while since he’d hooked up with a woman, and generally it wasn’t good. Most of his chosen mates were drunks like him, and having two in the house caused even more housework. And that was assuming the woman didn’t leave a baby behind when she inevitably left.

Sia shook her head at the thought. She loved Brock and Ebonny and was never going to wish them out of her life. But that didn’t mean she didn’t hope her father was over procreating.

In the shower, Sia started thinking about how long it had been since she’d hooked up with someone. She had a semi-regular thing with a friend’s cousin when he came to town, and the occasional one night stand with someone passing through but it had been a while since she’d had a man to pleasure and please her.

That brought thoughts of Todd Lansing and Sia swept them away. It didn’t matter that he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen and that even when angry he made her body heat. Nothing would ever happen between her and Todd.

Sia slept until ten, then she went and collected Brock and Ebonny and spent the day ensuring the washing was up to date and Brock was ready to start the school week.

Sienna arrived home at four in the afternoon and waved Sia away. “I can feed and put the munchkins to bed, and you’ve not touched a brush for more than a day. Go paint.”

Sia drove to her studio. She stood for a moment in the doorway of the bedroom, fighting the fear that it wouldn’t be as good.

Then she stepped inside and gasped. Yes, the painting could still take her breath away. Just as the man who inspired it had.

Gently, she lifted the painting away and leant it against the wall so it could dry. Then she pulled a new canvas out and placed it on the easel. She started mixing paints, studying the colour she’d finally arrived at the other night. That pink was just right, she thought. She’d made it once. She could make it again.

So she set to painting a sunset scene. It would just be the backdrop for whatever emotion came through, but she was determined to get it right.

She worked for hours. As the light changed and the colours started to dim, she closed the heavy curtains that blocked the windows and turned on the lights. Sunlight was much better than artificial, but regardless of its source good light was the most important tool in an artist’s repertoire.

She broke at one point to eat — nothing much, cheese and crackers and a glass of milk. Protein to keep her brain firing. Then back to it.

She found the pink, mixed the matching shades and the sunset that unfurled from her brush was magnificent. It had been worth taking on Todd, to achieve this.

A knock at the glass door startled her. Sia looked over her shoulder with a frown. No one disturbed her at night.

She pushed open the curtain and almost shuddered at Todd’s dark face. The light from the studio slanted across his skin, lighting his smouldering eyes but leaving his tight mouth in semi-shadow.

She slid the door open and his anger beat at her like a wind.

“I told you to stay away from my brother.”

Sia blinked and then realised Paul must have told him about their conversation at the club. “Perhaps you should tell Paul that.”

“I just did.”

Sia crossed her arms. “Is hearing the truth that hard for you?”

Todd sneered at her. “What, that fanciful notion that you can move the blame for my father’s death from you to me? That truth?”

“The truth that you’re angrier at yourself than you are at me. You don’t really have a problem with me, but that’s better than having a problem with yourself.”

“You know jack shit about me, Sia.”

There was only one way he was going to see the reality of what was happening to him. “Come.” She turned and walked into the studio, over to the painting. She pulled the easel forward, so it was clear to view.

Then she lifted her head to see Todd’s reaction. He had followed her to the doorway, but no further. His eyes were riveted on the painting, his body so still that she wondered if he was even breathing.

“My god,” he whispered. “It’s terrifying. It’s magnificent.”

“It’s you.”

She didn’t know if he heard her. He stood in the doorway for long, long minutes. Then he turned and left.

Sia went to the glass doors and watched Todd until his silhouette disappeared in the blackness. Then she slid the doors shut.

Hopefully for Todd’s sake, she’d made an impact. Then he’d heal, and her life would be that much easier.

Todd stumbled blindly up the hill. He knocked his leg against the fence but the pain that radiated from his shin wasn’t enough to overcome the agony squeezing his heart.

Sia was right. They’d all been right, but he’d been too wrapped up in his anger to see it. Using it like a cocoon to protect himself. Lashing out at her when the person he really wanted to lash out at was himself.

And his father.

His years in the police force had made it clear that people didn’t have heart attacks from a robbery. Being burgled was a horrible time in a person’s life; the sanctity of their home being taken from them. The shock was sharp, the pain real and the frustration of the experience extraordinary.

He knew some people experienced nightmares for months after, unable to bear the loss of their innocence and security. Some even had to move away, unable to stand it any longer.

But it didn’t kill them and if they did get sick, or end up in hospital, it was always a case of it being one stress too many on a body already overloaded.

Intellectually, he could see that was the case with his father — the robbery may have been the trigger, but the real cause of his heart attack had built up over months, years of stress and bad habits.

If it hadn’t been Sia’s actions, it would have been something else.

He stopped in the darkest shadow of the house, leant against one of the massive posts holding up the verandah and shuddered.

Why had his father had to die then? Why couldn’t he have held on a few hours and allowed Todd to come, apologise, make things right between them?

Why hadn’t he seen the terrible stresses his father was under and capitulated earlier?

But no — he’d had too much pride to give in to the old man, and now he had to live the rest of his life with the knowledge his father had died unhappy, and THAT was his fault.

His legs trembled and he forced them to stay strong, to keep holding him. He stood there waiting for the pain to ease. It didn’t, but he found it within himself to take his own weight and walk into the house.

He lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d lived for so long hating Sia, his rage at her fuelling his life.

How was he going to live now that he hated himself?

Friday afternoon, Todd was reading in the sunroom when Paul came to him.

“You need to help me with Mum,” he said.