Second to Cry (27 page)

She got into her car and checked her watch, she’d need to get home soon to ensure she was there for when Deena returned with Meegan. Knowing that her plan was fully acted out, Isla had hoped she’d feel relief or jubilation, but she just felt a hollow emptiness opening up within her, like a black hole which absorbed all other feelings.

*

Buck Fern’s eyes watered as he was suddenly hit by a wall of heat as he opened the door and stepped in to the grand room.

‘Samuel?’ he called to his brother, who was sat before the fire intently observing the flickering flames.

‘I’m here,’ Samuel called lightly from his chair. Buck ventured further into the room, already sweating. He was forced to remove his beloved Stetson and run a hand through his thinning hair.

‘So?’ Buck asked, his sharp assessing his brother. ‘Did she come?’

‘She came,’ Samuel nodded. ‘You rattled her cage good and proper.’

Buck gave a small smile of satisfaction.

‘And you were right about the Connelly fella. He’s been lying to me.’

‘I knew it,’ Buck seethed, running his hands over his Stetson. As his agitation increased, Buck began to pace around the room, trying his best to ignore the oppressive heat.

‘We should have him disbarred for this!’ Buck raged, sending spittle in to the air. ‘How dare he conduct himself in such an unprofessional manner!’

‘Just a second there, Buck,’ Samuel glanced up at his brother. ‘Pot and kettle and everything.’

‘But still!’

‘I think Mr Connelly is just beginning to learn the Avalon way of doing things. That sometimes you have to blur the lines a little bit.’

‘So you’re okay with what he did?’ Buck raged. ‘He helped her instead of you! Just like with the damn White woman!’

‘I’m not okay with it.’ Samuel remained composed as he spoke even though he shared his brother’s sense of indignation.

‘But now we have something on Mr Connelly. Something which might prove useful when we eventually drive him out of town. I want him gone,’ Buck growled, his voice low. ‘He’s a poison in this town!’

‘Patience,’ Samuel advised. ‘We’ll get what we want.’

‘And what about Miss September?’ Buck asked as Samuel scowled slightly.

‘I always knew the child wasn’t mine,’ Samuel replied. ‘But, like we said all along, this was a test for our Mr Connelly. A test he didn’t pass.’

‘So you’ll forgive her?’

‘That’s none of your business,’ Samuel said tersely. ‘My marriage is my own to deal with. You’ve been more than helpful with things. We’ll let the dust settle and then we’ll plan our next move.’

‘Okay then,’ Buck put his Stetson back on and moved towards the door, eager to escape the heat as beads of sweat were already dropping down his forehead.

‘I’ll make sure he leaves,’ Samuel promised. ‘Avalon is our town.’

‘Don’t I know it!’ Buck winked as he tapped his sheriff’s badge.

*

Isla had barely been back home ten minutes when Deena Fern’s black SUV pulled up into the driveway. Isla was about to go to the door when it suddenly dawned on her that her hair didn’t look any different than it had that morning which would surely made Deena suspicious. Glancing around, she quickly grabbed a hand towel and wrapped it around her head.

‘Hi!’ Isla opened the door and Meegan came running into the house, though with considerable less verve than the previous night. Clearly sugar had not been involved in the outing.

‘Did the kids have fun?’ Isla asked, forcing a smile, concerned that she looked troubled which was the default expression she’d had since her encounter with Samuel Fern.

‘Yeah, they climbed over everything, had a go on the swings. Meegan liked it.’ Deena looked past Isla at Meegan, who yawned sleepily.

‘I tired them out, that’s always a good thing,’ Deena smiled kindly at Isla and Isla struggled not to shrivel up in shame.

‘What happened with your hair?’ Deena asked suddenly, shooting a concerned glance at Isla’s head which had been pulled up in to make shift towel turban.

‘Oh, I hated it,’ Isla rolled her eyes in annoyance. ‘They did the colour good but the blow dry was just horrific. I need to sort it out myself.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Deena sympathized. ‘Did you go to the salon round here?’

‘Uh huh.’ Isla nodded.

‘I swear, they don’t have a clue about hair around here. Or nails, or any facet of beauty for that matter! Whenever I want anything done I head to the next town over or even venture into the city. I know a great place for hair if you need somewhere to go?’

‘Oh?’ Isla feigned interest though she just wanted the conversation to end, she was struggling to maintain her friendly façade, knowing that she had deceived Deena and delivered the sharpest, longest dagger in to her back and now the ex-Playmate was being nothing but friendly and amicable. Aiden had been right when he had suggested that they’d get along and that just made Isla feel even more wretched.

‘A place called Chez-Vous. I’ve not been for a while but it’s amazing, they really know their stuff.’

‘I’ll look into it,’ Isla continued to pretend to be interested.

Meegan came and clung to Isla’s leg like a limpet.

‘Tired!’ she declared, looking up at her mother with sad eyes. Isla knelt and picked Meegan up, the toddler immediately resting her little head upon her shoulder, her eyes heavy.

‘Are your boys tired out too?’ Isla asked.

‘Jude, sure. But Davis, he seems to run on infinite energy,’ Deena looked back at the SUV and smiled fondly.

‘I’ll let his father finish tiring him out when I get home!’ A buzzing sound began to emanate from Deena’s purse. Sighing, she delved in to it and moments later retrieved her pristinely white iPhone.

‘Speak of the devil,’ she observed, raising a perfectly shaped black eyebrow. With one stroke of a long nail she answered the call.

‘Hi, honey,’ Deena answered with a breezy tone but when she heard the voice on the other end of the line her face fell and Isla felt sick with guilt.

She watched as Deena clearly received a verbal ear bashing before she ended the call and looked flustered and upset.

‘Well he’s mad about something,’ she explained, flushing both with embarrassment and worry.

‘It’s probably nothing,’ Isla offered fake reassurance.

‘He just said I needed to get home immediately as we had to talk.’

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Isla suggested kindly but Deena looked beyond worried, she looked utterly terrified.

‘I’d best go!’ she backed away from Isla, distracted by the call. She climbed into her car and pulled away.

Meegan looked up to wave, as did Isla. But Deena didn’t wave back, her mind was clearly too consumed with worry about why her husband needed her home so promptly.

When the car was gone, Isla sighed heavily and let Meegan down, closing the front door behind them.

The kitchen suddenly felt unbearable cold. Isla sat down at the kitchen table and held her head in her hands.

She felt terrible for Deena, for what she had done. But it was too late now. Isla tried to suppress her overwhelming sense of guilt by focusing on Meegan. She tried to reassure herself that she’d done the right thing, that Samuel Fern was owed the truth, but she couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding which left her fearing that she’d ruined everything.

*

Deena Fern tried not to think about the icy inflection in her husband’s voice as she drove home. She tried to stop her mind jumping to every possible conclusion for his cold disposition. Samuel Fern was both a powerful and complicated man. Deena was well versed in how to deal with him when a business transaction fell through, or when the stock market hadn’t performed as he’d anticipated.

Deena’s role was to be the dutiful wife and remind him of his other successes; of their wonderful home and beautiful sons. Her husband was the kind of man who would never be happy with what he had, would always be striving for more, so it was important that she was happy enough with their lot in life for both of them.

But what if, rather than being the solution to what aggrieved Samuel, she was actually the cause of it? The prospect sickened Deena and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

‘Mom, can we play in the pool when we get back?’ Jude asked from the back seat.

‘Mom!’ he called again when Deena failed to acknowledge him. Deena tried to rein her worries in so that she could focus on the present. Glancing in the mirror she saw Jude’s earnest young face looking at her, his small brow wrinkled in concern.

‘What is it, Jude?’ she asked, having not heard his initial question.

‘When we get home, can we play in the pool?’

‘Sure,’ Deena answered dismissively, knowing it would be best for her sons to be preoccupied whilst she dealt with Samuel.

‘Yay!’ Davis squealed with delight whilst Jude remained composed.

Upon arriving at her home, Deena did not need to speak into the microphone hidden amongst the rocks, instead the gates automatically parted for her and the black SUV glided into the vast driveway, sparkling in the bright sun like an exotic stone.

The boys were eager to get out and into the swimming pool. Jude waited patiently by Deena’s side as she wrestled Davis out of his car seat which wasn’t easy as he was intent on squirming and wriggling the entire time.

‘If you kept still you’d be out sooner!’ she told him but he didn’t listen. Finally he was released and joined his brother on the ground, but rather than stand and wait with him Davis began toddling towards the house, desperate to jump in to the turquoise pool and feel the cool water all around him.

The housekeeper opened the front door and greeted the boys.

‘Hello, Master Davis, Master Jude,’ she smiled and nodded at them as they entered the marbled hallway, barely pausing on their frantic route to the swimming pool out back.

‘Hello, Mrs Fern,’ the housekeeper greeted her mistress last.

‘Hi, Jenny. The boys are really desperate to go swimming, do you mind getting them ready while I go speak with my husband?’

‘Certainly,’ Jenny nodded amicably and then began to follow after the boys, calling their names in an attempt to round them up. Jude immediately came when he was beckoned but Davis wouldn’t be quite so easy to catch.

Deena wanted to stay and help, she loved to play with the boys, especially when the sun was out and they were being well behaved. She’d even consider putting on her own bikini and joining them in the pool, though she certainly wouldn’t be getting her hair wet. But all that would have to wait. First she needed to speak with Samuel.

As it was still morning she knew he would be in the library, no doubt before a roaring fire. Lately, it took Samuel a long time to warm up and he spent half of his day freezing before open flames and the latter half feeling too warm and seeking solace within the shade. There seemed to be no happy medium for his body, he was either one extreme or the other and the doctors had failed to identify a treatment for him.

Creaking open the library door, Deena immediately felt the hot hair from the fire began to seep out and try to engulf her. She pushed it all the way, already feeling suffocated by the heat within the room.

‘Close the door!’ Samuel ordered sharply from his chair though he did not look up. Deena hesitated to shut the door, fearing she’d pass out from the heat if there wasn’t at least a minimal draught within the room.

‘The door!’ Samuel ordered again, motioning with his hand for her to shut up. Deena sighed and did as he asked, hoping that whatever he needed to discuss with her would be brief.

‘I don’t know how you can stand this heat!’ she declared, fanning herself furiously with her hand.

When her husband didn’t respond, Deena stiffened slightly and ceased batting her hand back and forth. She regarded his face, which appeared strangely older than it had that morning, as though extra lines had appeared. His expression was one of sorrowful anger, which appeared permanent, as though it had been etched in stone.

His eyes were distant and his brow furrowed, his thin mouth set in a hard line. It was an expression she was not unaccustomed to seeing but one she knew it was best to avoid. When he wore this face, her husband was at his most cruel.

‘You said you needed to talk to me,’ Deena began, trying to sound confident and forcing her voice to sound light and breezy, as though she had no trepidations about the conversation.

‘Yes, I do.’ Samuel’s voice was as hard as his face.

‘Well, here I am,’ Deena shrugged casually. ‘Talk.’

‘I had a visitor this morning,’ Samuel informed his wife.

‘Oh? Who?’

‘It doesn’t matter who. But they had some information for me.’

‘What sort of information?’ The intense stifling heat of the room made Deena began to feel sick and she leant against a nearby telephone table for support.

‘Information which you had refused to give me. A truth which you have continued to deny me,’ Samuel continued, his eyes still concentrating on the fire and not on her.

‘What are you talking about?’ Deena scoffed though her heart was racing.

Samuel stood up. His movements were slow and deliberate, perhaps to add emphasis to them or perhaps because he was unable in his old age to move as quickly as he would like. He placed his palms upon the arms of the leather chair and forced himself to his feet, grimacing slightly from the exertion.

Once stood, he clicked his neck, a sound which unsettled Deena, and then he walked towards his young wife, still wearing the same stony expression. His eyes were now locked on hers, grey and empty, they revealed nothing about his thoughts.

Deena hesitated as he advanced towards her, suddenly feeling fearful. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape strategy or even a weapon but he was before her before she could act upon any thoughts.

There was a time when Samuel had stood taller than her, equal in height if she wore heeled shoes. But now he stooped slightly beneath her. As the years since his birth stacked up, he began to wilt beneath the weight of them.

‘You know you shouldn’t be moving about so much in the morning,’ she berated him, though her voice was small and lacked any conviction.