Where the River Runs Page 12

  One year, the lady from the Uniting Church who always played the piano for carols by candlelight had called in sick. Chelsea had been asked to fill in and that night, even though she was so young—only fifteen—she’d been the town’s darling. She wondered what type of reception she’d get tonight.

  In true South Australian mid-north style, the heat was stifling and the flies gathered as soon as she opened the door. Even before she’d unloaded Aria’s bike from the back, she was sweating.

  Filled with nervous apprehension, she pushed Aria in the direction of the police station, where everyone was assembling. Would Lily recognise her? Would she recognise Lily? She hadn’t spoken to her for years—not since Dale’s funeral. And for no real reason save that she’d been busy focusing on her career. There had never been much time for friendships or relationships.

  As she walked past a small group of people, she noticed they looked over and stared at her. Then they leaned forwards and whispered to each other, before glancing her way again. Chelsea held her head high and as she and Aria approached the crowds, she could see a woman with long blonde hair and sunglasses, dressed in a tank top and shorts. She was holding a clipboard and seemed to be directing people. She was familiar, but Chelsea wasn’t convinced it was her friend.

  ‘Come on, sweetie, come over this way. I’m sure this lady will be able to—’

  ‘Chelsea?’

  She turned at the man’s voice and felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Jason.’

  Aria slipped her hand into Chelsea’s. ‘Mummy?’

  ‘What—’ Jason seemed to swallow hard before he could talk again. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Home for Christmas,’ she answered, squeezing Aria’s hand for support. ‘And you? Are you helping out somewhere?’

  ‘Me? Um, yeah. I’m, ah, I help with the sound equipment.’

  ‘Oh.’ She racked her brains to remember what his job had been when she’d left. ‘Are you not on the farm anymore?’

  ‘Yeah, still there, but I like helping out with the tech stuff.’

  ‘Sounds good. Well, I’d better find Lily. Um …’

  ‘Is this your little girl?’

  ‘Ah, yeah, this is Aria. Aria, sweetie, this is, um,’ she groped for the right words. How do you introduce the man who killed your brother? ‘This is Jason.’

  ‘Hello, Aria. You have a pretty name. And that’s a cool bike you’ve got decorated there.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Aria cuddled into Chelsea’s side.

  ‘We don’t want to miss anything, so we’d better go.’ Chelsea started to move away, but Jason took a step forwards and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Can we catch up?’ His tone was pleading. ‘I’d like to talk to you.’

  ‘I’m not sure how long I’m here for,’ she hedged.

  ‘Come on, Mummy.’ Aria tugged at her arm impatiently.

  ‘Look, I’ve really got to go. Sorry.’ She turned away and started walking towards the woman with the clipboard.

  After a few steps she had to stop, take her hand from Aria’s and wipe both hands on her skirt. She was hot and sweaty, her heart thumping as if she’d just walked on stage at the Opera House. Without turning around, she gathered herself and together they kept walking, even though Chelsea knew Jason’s eyes were on her back the whole time.

  Half an hour later, with no Lily in sight, the parade started with the blast of a truck’s horn. Chelsea had found her way to a spot in front of the supermarket where she’d arranged to meet her dad so they could watch Aria ride by on her bike.

  Tom wasn’t there yet, but Amal was standing outside the shop and nodded hello to her. How nice it was to see a friendly face.

  ‘How are you enjoying being home, Chelsea?’ he asked.

  She wasn’t overly surprised he remembered her. Still the gossip would’ve come thick and fast once people knew she was back in town, and she guessed he’d heard people talking in the shop.

  ‘Really nice, thank you. Are you ready for Christmas?’ As soon as she said the words she wanted to kick herself. Did he even celebrate Christmas?

  ‘Is anyone ever really ready for Christmas?’ he asked.

  ‘Good point.’ She changed the subject quickly in case it wasn’t appropriate. ‘Do you have children involved?’

  ‘I do. Two. Boy and a girl. Probably of a similar age to yours. How old is Aria? Four? Five?’

  People jostled past them and called hello to Amal. He greeted them with a large smile. Chelsea couldn’t help but think that when she was growing up, Amal wouldn’t have been greeted with the same amount of enthusiasm and warmth. In some instances, change was wonderful.

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Mmm. Nikko—we call her Nik—is six, and Rebaz is four.’

  ‘Lovely ages. You’ve got a great memory,’ she said. ‘To remember our names.’

  ‘There are always new people passing through at this time of the year. I do my best to make them feel welcome.’

  ‘That’s really lovely of you, Amal. How long have you lived here for?’ She waved at the clown who was dancing down the street, blowing up balloons and passing them to the excited kids.

  ‘Eight years. But we are from Adelaide. Not that far away. Most of our family are still there, but we wanted to get away from the city.’

  ‘Couldn’t get too much further away,’ Chelsea joked.

  ‘It is cheaper to live here. The children like it. My wife likes it, so we are content to stay. There is space and air to breathe.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’

  They paused as the footy club float went by. The guys were dressed as girls in long blonde wigs, and the netballers were dressed as blokes in footy shorts pulled up as far as they would go. As they passed, they threw out lollies and the kids raced out into the street to pick them up.

  ‘Can’t see people in the city getting away with doing that anymore,’ Chelsea said with a smile.

  ‘No, you are right. What about you, Chelsea? How long is it since you have visited?’

  ‘Maybe too long, Amal. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to come back.’

  He smiled sympathetically. ‘Often there is no other place to go to heal than one’s birthplace.’

  To Chelsea it sounded like he understood.

  ‘Do I need to heal?’ she asked, her voice sounding like she was issuing a challenge.

  ‘Everyone needs healing in one way or another.’

  She glanced over at him and saw he was staring straight in front. Wondering if he spoke from experience, Chelsea felt her thumb start to run over her hand—an unconscious reaction she had when she was anxious.

  A loud cheer went up from the crowd and the clapping started all over again. She leaned forwards to look down the road and saw a group of about ten children riding in pairs as fast as they could. Aria was in the front with a girl riding next to her. She was chatting away to her partner—so much so, Chelsea wasn’t sure her daughter was looking at the road.

  ‘Look at that,’ Chelsea said softly. In how many other places would a child who’d only just arrived in town be riding in a pageant and making friends after only a few days. Maybe Barker had its benefits. ‘We’ve never stayed in one place long enough for Aria to be able to make many friends. With my work …’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I am … was a concert pianist.’ Aria looked down at her hands. It hurt to say ‘was’.

  ‘But no more?’

  ‘No,’ she replied softly. ‘No more.’

  ‘If Aria likes it here, Barker might be the place for you to settle down. I’m sure your father would like to have you close by.’

  ‘Ha! Maybe not.’ She started to wave as the young cyclists drew parallel with her. ‘Aria! Over here!’ She waved and jumped up and down, waiting for her daughter to look over. After a couple of shouts, Aria glanced over and gave Chelsea a large smile, but then went straight back to talking to the girl next to her. ‘I guess that’s a good sign,’ Chelsea said, turning to Amal. ‘Too bu
sy having fun to take notice of me.’

  But Amal had gone and, in his place, stood Lily.

  ‘Hello, Chelsea,’ she said softly. ‘It’s good to see you. You haven’t changed at all.’

  ‘Lily? Oh my God, Lily.’ Her voice broke as she leaned forwards to hug her childhood friend but pulled back when it wasn’t returned. Clearing her throat, she asked, ‘How are you? Look at you! Still as skinny as ever. And your hair—you’ve cut it!’

  ‘I’m fine. What about you? You look exactly the same—glamorous without trying. Like your mum.’

  Chelsea shook her head. ‘I don’t know about that. I guess we’ve all changed in some way. What are you doing now? I heard you got married.’

  ‘I did. I’m Lily Gill these days. Do you remember Dylan Gill? His dad was the shire president when we were at school and his mum worked in the library.’

  ‘Vaguely. He was a few years older than us?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s him. We married six years ago, and we run the local IT store now. Well, he does. I’m a stay-at-home mum.’ She stared at her hard as if defying Chelsea to say anything.

  ‘Wow, who would’ve thought we’d end up in Barker! We had such big plans. Remember the daydreaming we used to do?’

  ‘Yeah, who would’ve thought,’ Lily answered. ‘But you need money to be able to live dreams. Anyway, I wouldn’t change it. The kids are my world.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. How old?’ Kids were a safe subject and Chelsea felt as if Lily was appraising her.

  ‘The girl your little one is talking to is my eldest, then a two-year-old son.’ Chelsea whipped around to get another look at Aria’s partner, but all she could see now was her back and a long blonde ponytail swinging in time as she pushed the pedals around and around.

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Alecia. She’s four.’

  ‘Same as Aria.’ She took a breath and said, ‘Isn’t that funny?’ A smile spread across Chelsea’s face. ‘We always liked the same things and now we’ve named our daughters by the same letter!’

  Lily didn’t smile.

  Taking a deep breath, Chelsea looked out across the street. ‘I’m sorry—’

  At the same time Lily said: ‘Why didn’t you—’

  They both stopped and looked at each other, then Lily indicated for Chelsea to go first.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t write after Dale’s funeral.’ Chelsea said. ‘I know I said I was going to and I started about a thousand times, but I never finished. I couldn’t find the words to say anything meaningful. After Dale’s death, nothing made any sense to me. Him dying … it seemed …’ She frowned. ‘Like a wasted life. Everything I did seemed pointless. The only thing that kept me going was my music. I’m very sorry.’

  ‘I waited for ages. I wanted to invite you to my wedding—I tried. I sent you an invitation. I wanted you to be my bridesmaid, but you never answered. I knew you struggled after Dale died, but not even a congratulations telegram on the day? Did we really come to this, Chelsea? All you were doing was running away and not dealing with his death.’

  Chelsea’s heart sank. ‘You invited me? I didn’t—’

  ‘Yeah, I did.’ She crossed her arms and looked away, as if she didn’t want to look at Chelsea anymore. Listen to her lies.

  ‘I wasn’t running away.’

  ‘That was how it seemed to all of us. To Kelly. And how about Jason? Dale’s death was an accident. Your parents needed you too.’

  Chelsea was looking down at the dirty pavement and kicking at the cement but, at Lily’s words, her head snapped up. ‘No, they didn’t!’ she said with such force that Lily took a step back.

  Another cheer went up as the Model T Ford from Chelsea’s childhood came into view carrying Santa. People started jostling to get to the front of the crowd and the two women were separated.

  Chelsea looked at the people around her and saw a few faces she recognised, but they weren’t looking at her, they were too engrossed in the parade and lifting smaller children on to their shoulders for a better view.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer the invitation?’ Lily’s voice came from behind her and was full of hurt.

  Spinning around, she answered, ‘I never got your invitation. I didn’t even know you were married until Dad told me. I’m sorry, I would have answered if I’d got it. I would’ve loved to have been your bridesmaid. Where did you send it?’

  ‘To your flat in Melbourne. Your mum gave me the address. It was after you’d finished your European tour. I read about you in the paper. We were all so proud of what you were doing. And I wanted you to be my bridesmaid.’

  Then it all became clear. She hadn’t been living in Melbourne, and she hadn’t updated her address for her mum because she had been just about to go on her first cruise and hadn’t wanted anyone to know what a failure she was. The European tour had been a disaster; even though the crowds had loved her, the conductors hadn’t. There had been angry words and insults traded between her and them.

  While Chelsea had been the feature, she’d still had an orchestra playing with her, and her relationship with the other musicians had also been tense.

  It had been the world’s most famous conductor, Gaspard Dubois, who had told her he would never work with her again.

  ‘Difficult. Wilful. Arrogant. Defiant and disobedient!’ he’d shouted at her in broken English. ‘I will not work with you anymore.’

  Gossip travels fast in the music industry and that was that.

  Looking back, Chelsea knew she hadn’t been a nice person. She’d been everything Gaspard Dubois had said, but she’d never thought it would cost her career. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she thought back to that final showdown outside her dressing room.

  ‘Oh, Lily. I need to explain.’ The silence between them stretched out because Chelsea wasn’t sure how to explain. ‘Can we …’ she looked around. ‘Can we have a glass of wine and talk? I’ve got a lot to tell you.’

  ‘Mummy, Mummy!’ Two voices called out in unison as they ran to their mothers, holding hands.

  ‘This is my friend Aria, Mummy,’ Alecia said, looking at Lily. ‘She’s staying on a farm.’

  ‘That’s my mum,’ Aria said, pointing at Chelsea.

  Chelsea collected herself and smiled at the excited girls. ‘And your mummies know each other!’ she said. ‘Lily and I went to school here and we were best friends.’ She could feel Lily looking at her but continued to smile.

  ‘That’s funny,’ Alecia said. ‘Our mums were best friends and now we are too!’

  ‘Come on,’ Lily said. ‘Do you want to line up to see Father Christmas?’

  ‘Yeah!’ the girls shouted together.

  ‘Well, off you go. We’ll follow behind you.’

  The girls ran across the road without fear of traffic, since the roads were closed, and joined the queue of kids waiting to see Santa.

  ‘Maybe we need to have a talk,’ Lily said to Chelsea as they followed their daughters.

  Chelsea stopped and put a hand on Lily’s arm. ‘I’m truly sorry, Lily. I would’ve come if I’d known. I’d like to explain.’

  ‘Coffee, then. After Christmas. I don’t drink.’

  ‘I’ll ring and make a time,’ Chelsea promised.

  ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’ She shrugged. ‘Do you have much to do with Dad?’

  ‘What? Me? No. He doesn’t talk to any of us now.’ Lily said hello to a couple of people, and although Chelsea knew their faces, she couldn’t remember their names, so she just nodded and ignored their curious glances.

  ‘Any of the people involved that night or just anyone?’

  ‘Any of us—Jason, me, Kelly. But now you mention it, probably not too many people at all.’

  ‘I think there’s something wrong with him,’ she confided.

  ‘Like what?’

  They were interrupted by Aria running back to them, bubbling with excitement. She was waving a piece of paper and Alecia wasn’t
far behind her.

  ‘Mum! Papa bought me a ride in the police car!’

  ‘What?’ Chelsea was puzzled. ‘How do you buy a ride in a police car?’

  ‘Ah, I know,’ Lily said. ‘Dave Burrows is raising money for the school, so he offered a ride in the car to the winning ticket. I think you’re going for a ride with Santa. Detective Dave was going to take him to the reindeer and sleigh and while he did that he was going to give the lucky winner a ride. Look, there’s your Papa.’

  Aria’s eyes were wide. ‘No way,’ she said making the ‘way’ long and drawn out.

  Chelsea couldn’t help giggling as she turned and saw her dad waving to Aria. ‘Where on earth have you heard that saying?’ she asked.

  ‘Cal says it all the time.’

  ‘Does he now?’ Chelsea ignored the little jab of anxiety at the mention of his name. She needed to go back and talk to him, whether he liked her or not; Cal knew her father better than anyone and she was sure he’d have some thoughts on Tom.

  ‘I’m going too!’ Alecia cried. ‘I can, can’t I, Mummy?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  The girls dragged their mothers over to the police car, pulling them so quickly that they bumped into people and had to apologise as they went.

  ‘G’day, Lily,’ Dave said as they approached. He was wearing his dress uniform, leaning against the patrol car. ‘Kept Kim busy cooking gourmet burgers?’

  ‘Thank God for her!’ Lily answered with a smile. ‘We were going to be very stuck without someone experienced in these things. She’s been run off her feet.’

  ‘Ah well, you know she needs to be kept out of mischief! How are you, Chelsea?’ Dave turned his gaze to her and at once she was transported back to the house. To the piano. Where she’d sat silently while another policeman, many years ago, announced her brother’s death.