Blackpeak Station (24 page)

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Authors: Holly Ford

BOOK: Blackpeak Station
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Charlotte stared into her glass. No. Right now, her life was … deeply okay. She had everything she wanted. Nothing hurt. She was going to keep it that way.

‘Jeez.’ Jen sighed into the lengthening silence. ‘You haven’t learnt a thing, have you?’

Yeah — actually, she had. To be careful. That love didn’t conquer all. And not to trust any tingles that might run down her spine … or anywhere else, for that matter.

‘Come on.’ Jen patted her shoulder. ‘Let’s go in — it’s getting nippy out here.’ As she stood up, a gust of wind shook the wisteria leaves, and a shower of hail blew across the garden, backlit by the sun. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. Look at this!’ Shaking her head, Jen laughed as it started, gently, to snow.

Sweating under a blazing sun, Charlotte applied the strainer to the newly run top wire of her repaired fence. It was hard to believe that the first two months of the new year were nearly over. Now the lambs were weaned, things would quieten down for a while. The calm in the eye of the storm, as Jen liked to point out, between now and the descent of three hundred guests. Oh yes — and the autumn muster.

But as far as most people seemed to be concerned, the calendar now revolved around Nick and Flavia’s wedding. Even Christmas had been swept aside. Nick and Flavia had stayed in Italy. Andrea was so full of wedding plans she might as well have been there too. Meanwhile,
rather mysteriously, Rex and Kath had disappeared to stay with ‘friends’ near Timaru for a week, and on Christmas Day, Blackpeak’s only dinner guest had been Hannah — somewhat to Andrea’s confusion.

‘Why’s the vet coming?’

‘She’s with Jen.’

‘How do you mean,
with
Jen?’

Charlotte had sighed. ‘Jen’s gay, Mum.’

‘Oh! Well, that explains it.’ Her mother had paused for a nanosecond. ‘What do you think about doing the shearers’ quarters up? We could get at least another ten of Flavia’s family in there.’

‘What about renting some caravans?’

‘Don’t be silly, darling — they’re Milanese, not gypsies.’

Since Christmas, Hannah had been down pretty nearly every weekend. Charlotte stretched her back and smiled to herself. She’d never seen Jen so happy. It was funny — you thought you knew someone, but this new Jen was … softer. Quicker to smile.

And thanks be to God, Charlotte actually liked having Hannah around. She was fun — not to mention useful.

‘Do you like the large animal work?’ she’d asked one day, as Hannah checked out a lame bull’s hoof.

‘Are you kidding? Getting out in country like this all day?’ Hannah had put the quarter-ton corner of cattlebeast down. ‘What’s not to love?’

At first, Charlotte had tried not to talk shop, but Hannah didn’t seem to mind being Blackpeak’s unpaid consultant. In fact, it was hard to stop her. Just last Saturday she’d saved Charlotte a four-hour drive and a hundred bucks when Tinks, on the last day of the weaning muster, had misjudged a rail in the yards and pulled up with what looked like — but thankfully wasn’t — a cruciate tear.

Charlotte tied the wire off and headed back to the ute. It must be nearly lunch time. A blast from the radio made her jump.

‘Charlie?’ It was Jen. ‘Come home.’

‘Yeah, Jen, I’m just about on my way down.’

‘Come now, Charlie. Something’s happened.’

 

Hurrying into the homestead, Charlotte found the kitchen empty. An odd noise was drifting through the open door from the lounge. She followed it to find Jen and Kath sitting on the sofa, watching TV. They were holding hands. What the hell? She looked at the screen. God, where was that? There was rubble everywhere … people covered in dust, people bleeding. And no sound. Well, no reporter talking. Just the wind, and sirens. Things falling. People calling for help. Had there been another bombing? Was it London? New York?

Jen looked up at her. ‘It’s Christchurch.’

Slowly, Charlotte sat down. No. It couldn’t be. She watched the TV. The cameraman was just walking around. By himself. Where was everyone else? She reached across and took Jen’s other hand.

‘What happened?’

‘There’s been another earthquake.’ Jen swallowed. ‘It’s really bad this time.’

Another
earthquake? But … you weren’t meant to get
two
. They’d had the bad earthquake. It was a miracle — no one got hurt. The camera moved on. Oh God … she felt sick. People were hurt this time. ‘How bad?’

‘They don’t know yet. We were listening to the radio — people are trying to find out, but it sounds like … the whole city, maybe. They don’t know. So we thought we’d
try the TV news, and we got …’ Jen bit her lip. ‘This …’

Charlotte nodded. It was hard to stop looking. The whole
city
? Her stomach flipped. Mum! She looked around for the phone — where was it?

Kath handed it to her. ‘We’ve been trying, dear. We can’t get through to Andrea.’

She dialled. No good. She tried her mother’s cell phone. No.

‘The power’s probably off,’ said Jen. ‘And they’re saying the cell network’s overloaded.’

Yeah. That was it. No need to panic. Her mother was fine. Of course she was.

‘Oh!’ Jen gasped. ‘Charlie …’

‘What is it?’ Charlotte looked back at the TV screen. Christ. What a twisted mess … pretty much the only thing left of that building was the sign in front …

‘Charlie.’ Jen squeezed her hand. ‘Isn’t that where Rob works?’

 

Andrea walked in the door at seven o’clock. Charlotte had never felt so pleased to see anyone in her life. Her mother had called from somewhere outside Geraldine to tell them she was coming. Caddy, pushing past Andrea’s legs, bolted straight for the lounge and crawled under the coffee table.

‘We were on our way back from the park,’ Andrea said, sounding dazed, when Charlotte finally let go of her. ‘I just popped into the mall. Then everything fell down.’

‘Have a seat, Mum.’ She led Andrea to the sofa.

‘Everyone ran outside, but the buildings — the buildings were falling down too.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘I went home, and I tried to tidy up, but things kept on shaking and there was no water or power … I couldn’t call you … I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Hey, it’s all right, you’re here now — you’re safe.’

Andrea glanced around the room. ‘I don’t think anywhere’s safe. Not any more.’

‘What about something to eat?’ said Kath. ‘You must be hungry.’

‘Oh, no — thanks, Kath, but I don’t think I could.’ She rubbed her face with her hands. ‘I still feel a bit … well, seasick, I suppose.’

Charlotte studied her worriedly. She’d never seen her mother looking a mess before. Andrea’s mascara had run, and her face was covered in a fine film of something — was it dust? — and her beige capris were grubby and stained at the knees with … Jeez, it looked like blood.

‘What’ve you got on your trousers, Mum?’

Andrea looked down. She picked at a splodge. ‘I think it might be jam.’ She brushed her legs, sending up small drifts of white powder. ‘I was trying to clean up the mess on the pantry floor and then’ — she managed a smile — ‘a bag of flour fell on my head. That’s when I got in the car and left.’

Charlotte patted her shoulder. ‘How about a cup of tea?’

‘Actually, darling, I think I’ll have a whisky if you don’t mind.’

The phone rang. Charlotte picked it up.

‘Charles? Christ …’ It was Nick. ‘I just heard. I can’t reach Mum — what’s happening, is everyone okay?’

‘Mum’s fine, she’s here with us.’ She carried the phone through to the sitting room, looking for the whisky bottle. ‘She’s pretty shaken up, but she’s all right.’ She heard Nick let out a long breath.

‘What about the house?’

‘It sounds like it’s a mess, but it’s okay too.’ She bit her lip. It was hard to care about houses at the moment — people, that was the thing.

‘God.’ Nick paused. ‘It looks so … Do you know, have you heard, about — anyone else?’

Charlotte felt the tears rise in her throat. ‘I haven’t been able to …’ Giving up on the whisky, she sat down. ‘I don’t know if …’ She still couldn’t get it out.

‘Oh, Charles …’

‘I can’t find Rob.’

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. ‘Rob?’

‘The building he works in fell down … there are people …’ She sobbed. ‘People trapped … and I can’t get him on his phone. It just goes straight to voicemail.’

‘Oh, Charles, I’m sure he’s all right.’

Nick was doing his best, but he sounded shocked. How
could
he be sure? No one could.

‘It happened at lunchtime, right?’ he went on, gently. ‘He was probably out.’

Yeah, but out where? In a café, a shop, a bar — walking under a brick façade? All the streets around his building were in ruins. Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Probably.’

Spotting the whisky at last, she got up, poured her mother a stiff one and carried it back to the lounge. ‘Here’s Mum.’

‘Hey, Charles?’ She pressed the phone back to her ear. ‘Try not to worry too much — you don’t know anything yet, okay?’

‘Yeah — I know.’ She handed the phone to her mother. ‘It’s Nick.’

‘Thanks, darling. Hello?’ Andrea took a quick sip of whisky. ‘No, I’m fine …’ She wandered off into the kitchen, out of range of the TV.

‘Come on, love.’ Rex stroked Kath’s hand. ‘It’s time you and I were going. Give these guys a bit of peace.’ He looked worried. Throwing caution aside, Charlotte gave him a hug. None of them knew who’d they’d lost today — not yet. She walked them out to the door.

When they’d driven away, Charlotte sat down beside Jen on the sofa and hugged her knees to her chest. It was going dark outside. Could the rescue teams carry on searching through the night? They were working so hard. But there was so much rubble, and so few of them. They must be past exhaustion, now. And still, the aftershocks kept coming.

‘I’ve got to go and look for him.’ She rocked forward, got her feet on the floor.

‘Charlie.’ Jen put a restraining hand on her knee. ‘There’s nothing you can do.’

That couldn’t be true. There had to be something, didn’t there? ‘I can be there,’ she said. ‘That’s something.’

‘They won’t let you in.’ Jen spoke softly. ‘The whole centre of town’s cordoned off. There’s no way to get near the place.’

‘I can check the hospital. I can see if he’s at home — if he’s okay.’

Jen drew in her breath. ‘Charlie, do you even know where Rob lives?’

Shit.

‘And you’re not exactly next of kin.’

No — not exactly. She was exactly nothing at all. And whose fault was that? God, she couldn’t bear the thought that—

‘I never told him.’

Jen stroked her knee.

‘He was my best friend, and I loved him, and instead of saying that, I … I was just a total bitch.’ 

‘Shh, it’s okay … no you weren’t.’

Charlotte glared at her. ‘Yes I was.’

Jen winced. ‘Well, maybe a little bit. But you had your reasons, didn’t you? For not saying anything, I mean.’

Her reasons. Yeah — what were they again? None of them seemed to matter a whole lot now. How could she have let Rob walk away? Because she hadn’t wanted to stand in his way? Well, that was ironic. She should have barricaded the bloody door — then he’d still be here. Alive. With her. Because she’d been a coward? Definitely. Because — Charlotte shuddered — she’d met Luke? She caught her breath — Luke! His office on the river, was it still there? Was he still … oh, she didn’t have the energy to worry about him, he’d be fine. It would take more than an earthquake to pin Luke down. He’d just slither out of the rubble.

Oh God, she wanted Rob back. She’d give anything for even just one minute. Long enough to tell him how she felt. Long enough to say ‘stay’.

‘Hey, it’s all right, shhh.’ Jen’s arms wrapped around her. Charlotte sobbed into her shoulder. Wriggling out from under the table, Caddy licked her hand.

Eventually, there was no more news to watch. Jen turned the television off. They sat for a moment in silence.

‘Well, I think I’ll go to bed.’ Andrea stood up, kissed Charlotte goodnight and patted Jen on the shoulder. ‘We should all get some sleep.’

‘You too,’ ordered Jen, pulling Charlotte to her feet. ‘Come on.’

Lying in bed, Charlotte stared at the dark. The familiar sounds of the night — the wind in the trees, a morepork, frogs in the pond, the occasional bang of a beetle against the glass — were little comfort. She thought of the last time she’d seen Rob. His touch on her skin. That day they’d spent together,
up at the tarn. Him standing there in his old worn jeans,
shirtless
against the snowline and the sky, stretching his beautiful back, reaching up with those arms that were the safest place in the world to be, pushing back his wavy golden hair. That was where he should be. That was where he belonged. Not in a city, an office, a suit. Not under a pile of stone.

She’d never prayed for anything before. Not even Blackpeak. But dear God — let him be somewhere safe. Let him be all right.

Her door edged open. ‘Charlie?’ Jen’s voice was low. ‘Are you awake?’

‘Yeah.’ She sat up and switched the light on. ‘What’s up?’

Jen walked in, her laptop open in her hands. She sat on the end of Charlotte’s bed. ‘I’ve found Rob. He’s okay.’

Charlotte closed her eyes. The tears welled up again. Oh, thank you, Lord, or Fate, or whatever there was … she owed them one. Go on, you can take whatever you want. Nothing else mattered. ‘How did you find out?’

‘Facebook.’ Jen smiled. ‘He just updated his status.’

‘You’re friends with Rob?’

‘Hey, I’m friends with a lot of people.’

Smiling, Charlotte shook her head at herself. That was hardly the point right now. ‘So — where is he? Is he safe?’

‘He’s in London. Apparently, his phone got stolen yesterday, that’s why it’s been off — and he just got up and saw the news.’

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