Long Hot Summer Page 6

  She glanced down at the pattern on the kitchen bench. Rubbed her finger over an imaginary stain. “Yes, it’s been a long time. Fourteen years.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on the bench, his eyes focussed on hers. “So, tell me, Hannie. Are you a swinging single or what?”

  She swallowed hard and the bubbles of her champagne almost snorted out of her nose. “What?”

  “You seem to live up here on your own. I haven’t seen anyone else coming or going.”

  “Binoculars again?”

  “I’ve been looking for arsonists, remember? It’s my job to take note of any unfamiliar registration plates.”

  “You won’t be seeing any unfamiliar registration plates around here.”

  “Oh?” Dylan’s eyebrows lifted.

  Hannie went for diversion. “What about you? Did you leave a trail of broken hearts all over Melbourne then?”

  As well as in Reynolds Ridge?

  “Just one.”

  “The poor woman.”

  He looked up quickly. “It wasn’t a woman. It was me.”

  Hannie didn’t know what else to say in response to his honesty. They’d never had an adult discussion before, come to think of it, which made her realise she didn’t really know him at all. She knew what he looked like, and was very aware of how he’d improved with age and experience, but she had no idea about what was inside that impressive package. Who was he now?

  “Is that why you came home?”

  “It was time,” he said. “Mum and Dad needed to sell and I decided at about the exact same time that I’d been away too long. I missed the hills, the quiet. The cherries in summer and the apples in winter. The local wine and the restaurants.” He studied her face. “My brother let me know about a job back here in the fire service, so my timing was all right.” He hesitated. “For a change.”

  There was something serious in his face she couldn’t read.

  “How is Caleb?”

  “He’s good. Working in the fire service.”

  “Same as you then?”

  He thought on that. “Yeah. It must be the twin thing.”

  “Is he married? Does he have a girlfriend or anything?”

  “I reckon there’s something going on with someone, and I’m sure he’ll tell me all about it when I beat it out of him.”

  Hannie smiled at the memory of how the Knight brothers were with each other. Competitive, teasing, loving. It was something she’d never had, being an only child. She’d hoped to have had it with Alice, but they’d been too different as children and now, as adults, there was no trust or respect.

  “Hey, tell me something?” Dylan nodded in her direction.

  “What?”

  “How come you never left?”

  Hannie lifted her chin. “I did leave.”

  “That’s right. After your mum sold up.”

  “I shared a house for eighteen months with some people I used to work with at the bank.”

  Dylan almost choked on his champagne. “You worked in a bank?”

  “Yes. Why is that so shocking?”

  He regarded her, studied her eyes. “You, the high school kid with the multicoloured hair and the books and the clothes and the attitude?”

  “What attitude?”

  “You know what I mean. You always walked around school thinking you were the smartest girl around.”

  Hannie couldn’t breathe. “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did.” He laughed at the memory. “All that time in the library and all those books you read, like you were ticking them off some giant list so you could get into university or something. And us football players? You thought we were just a bunch of stupid jocks. You never hid it either.”

  If only he knew how good she’d been at hiding things. Still was.

  “I never thought you were a stupid jock. And even if I did, you’ve just proven me wrong by knowing who Zelda Fitzgerald was.”

  He laughed out loud, and it hit her like a shot of whiskey down her throat.

  “And you know what? You’ve proven me wrong, too. You’re not what I was expecting, that’s all. But come to think of it, I don’t know what I was thought you’d be doing now. I figured I’d find you working in a hipster café or an alternative record store or something.”

  “What’s a record?”

  She loved his smile. So much. And she loved teasing him. “They’re making a comeback you know. When I bought my folks place I inherited an old player and all their records. If you like Neil Diamond and Peter Frampton, you’re in luck.”

  “Can’t say I’m a huge fan of either of them. But no, no cafes or record stores for me. I had to find a real job. I don’t know if you remember that Mum and I were on our own.”

  He was quick to interrupt. “I remember.”

  “She was working all the hours she could as a casual teacher and, anyway, jobs in hipster cafés don’t pay the rent. Some of those owners tend to have a hipster attitude when it comes to wages, as well. You know, like we should all be paid in fresh air and quinoa.”

  Dylan burst into warm laughter and the sound of it was as sweet as the popping of the bubbles in her champagne.

  “I never remember you being this funny,” he finally said.

  The air left her lungs. “Well. Surprise surprise.”

  “So, go on. After the share house, you came back?”

  Hannie nodded. “I was starting my business and Mandy offered me the cottage. I found it hard to say no. There’s something about Reynolds Ridge that keeps pulling you back.”

  “I get that.”

  “I just... never felt settled down there on the plains. This is what I know. This place is home. Being here, I’m still close to where I grew up. I won’t be staying at Mandy’s forever, but this will do for now. Here, at the cottage, the whole valley still seems like mine. Everything I’ve ever wanted is here. Except for the snakes and bushfires. And the occasional screams of mating koalas.”

  Dylan laughed at the memory. “Can’t say I’ve missed the sound of that up in the trees. Hardly sounds consensual, does it?”

  “I bet those girl koalas don’t even get a glass of champagne first or anything.”

  His eyes darted to hers.

  Oh shit. What the hell had she just said? Hannie felt like someone had applied a blow torch to her cheeks.

  “I bet they don’t. A real man knows that there are certain steps he should follow if he’s interested in a woman.”

  “There’s a playbook?”

  “Oh, definitely. There’s a certain etiquette a man has to follow when it comes to dating. First”—he held up his glass—“champagne.”

  Hannie tilted the glass and emptied it.

  “And then, dinner.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not kidding. So, how about it?”

  Dylan and Hannie held a gaze. Something was buzzing between them and both knew it. Hannie couldn’t say yes to dinner with him. She’d spent years living with the guilt of breaking her cousin’s heart. And he didn’t have great form either. He’d cheated on Alice. With her. They’d both been complicit in her pain and anguish.

  Wouldn’t spending time with Dylan take her right back to all that?

  Before Hannie could open her lips to say no, they heard her name being called. Their heads turned at the same time in the direction of the front door. Both recognised who it was.

  Alice.

  “Hannie? Where are you?”

  “Back here in the kitchen.” Hannie pressed a hand to her right cheek. Here she was, drinking champagne with a man – Dylan, no less – looking pink-cheeked, talking about koala sex and dinner. What the hell would Alice think?

  And why the hell should Hannie still care? Alice had moved on. She was married with two delightful children. She’d found someone to give her everything she wanted in life.

  Yet. Hannie still felt the hot licks of guilt at her insides.

  There were clickety-clack footsteps on the stone hallway floor
and then Alice appeared. She shot Hannie a frustrated look before registering that she wasn’t alone. And when turned her attention to Dylan, her lips parted on a word and she stopped the admonition which she’d clearly been planning to deliver.

  “Dylan Knight?” Her expression transformed from frustrated to – what was it – triumph?

  “Hey, Alice.”

  “Oh, my god. Dylan!” Alice tottered towards him and threw her arms open wide.

  He didn’t get up from his stool and her petite stature meant she was at the exact same height to plant a whacking great kiss on his mouth. On his lips, Hannie noticed. She then threw her arms around him and clung to him like she was a seagull and he was a hot chip.

  “How are you, Alice?”

  “It’s so good to see you, Dylan.” It was a moment before Alice released him from her grip. She stepped back, flicked a glance at Hannie, something which looked like red hot anger, and propped her hands on her hips. “What’s this all about?”

  “We’re drinking champagne,” Dylan said, glancing at Hannie.

  “Are you back to visit your folks or something?”

  “No, I’m back for good actually. I’ve bought my family’s place up on top of Reynolds Ridge.”

  “Really?” Now she turned to glare at her cousin accusingly. “Hannie hadn’t told me any of that news. Well, welcome home. I must get your number. You and your wife should come over for dinner with Simon and me and the girls. Come and see the house. And the pool and the tennis court. It would be so great to catch up.”

  “He’s not—” Hannie started to correct Alice on the question of Dylan’s marital status, but stopped herself mid-sentence. That was Dylan’s business not hers. She couldn’t get in the way of this reunion.

  Suddenly, all those tingles she’d been feeling in her toes and everywhere else turned into icicles. In a blink, she was right back where she had been a million years ago, in her school uniform, with her school bag laden with books on her shoulders, watching Dylan and Alice in love.

  If the champagne bottle wasn’t already empty she would have snatched it from the table, lifted it to her lips and sculled whatever was left.

  “Life’s good then?” Dylan asked.

  Hannie tried to judge, on a scale of one to ten, how happy he appeared to be to see Alice.

  It was a five.

  “Life’s fantastic, actually.” And then as Alice began to witter on about Simon’s career and her lovely house and her lovely kids – all of which was objectively true – Hannie faded out.

  She picked up the empty bottle and the empty glasses and took them to the sink. She stopped a moment to catch her breath, peering out the window, checking out the late afternoon sky.

  Which is when she saw the smoke over the top of Reynolds Ridge.

  Chapter Seven

  “Dylan.”

  Alice continued to talk, as if Hannie hadn’t said a word.

  “Dylan.” Hannie spun around from the window. There was a pounding in her chest now for a whole other reason.

  He was looking right at her. “What is it?”

  “There’s smoke over the ridge.”

  Alice stopped mid-sentence.

  Dylan leapt up from the stool at the kitchen bench and rushed across the room in four big strides to Hannie’s side. He dropped his head down to check out the view through the low window.

  “Damn it.” He straightened, fished in the pocket of his shorts and pulled out his phone, jabbing the screen and pressed it to his ear. Something beeped. He reached for the pager tucked into his waist band. While they were thought of as old-fashioned technology to some, the devices were still the backbone of a fire response in parts of Australia as mobile phones could lose range, especially in parts of the winding Adelaide Hills.

  Dylan looked at Hannie a long moment, then he turned. “It was good to see you, Alice. I’ve got to go and deal with this.”

  He strode towards the hallway and was gone. A moment later, they listened as his car drove off in a loud roar.

  “How close is it, do you think?” Alice rushed to the window and to Hannie’s side.

  “It’s hard to tell. I’m not sure which way the wind is blowing.”

  They exchanged glances. All the animosity Hannie had felt in the air disappeared. Times like these meant petty disagreements were put aside. There was an immediate understanding between them, borne from years of living in the hills during summers.

  “I’ll pack her bag,” Alice said.

  “I’ll help you,” Hannie replied. The cousins ran up to the main house and in ten minutes, they’d packed up Mandy’s papers and valuables – always safely stored in a suitcase during bushfire season – and Mandy was buckled up in the passenger seat of Alice’s car.

  She wound down the car window and leaned out to talk to her niece. She wore the kind of frustrated scowl Hannie knew too well. “I would be perfectly fine staying here. This is all such a silly overreaction. I’ve lived through worse fires in these hills and you know it.”

  “Not with a sprained ankle, you haven’t.” Hannie tried to find some cheer in her tone so Alice wouldn’t get a clue as to what she was really worried about. “And stop your complaining. Think of it as a little holiday. You’ll be better off with Alice down in the city until we know what’s going on. I can hold the fort here; check the tanks and the pumps and the irrigation on the roof. Don’t worry about Zelda and the girls. Dylan will keep me informed about what’s happening. Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” Hannie reached down to clasp her aunt’s shoulder. She gave it a little squeeze.

  Mandy looked up at her. There were tears welling in her aunt’s eyes. And then it hit Hannie like a scorching north wind. Mandy knew her limitations now. This was a show for Alice, to put on an act in front of her own daughter, to be strong when all she was feeling was fear.

  Hannie leaned close, kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Everything will be all right,” she whispered.

  Then, out loud so Alice could hear, she said, “Stop being so difficult. Let that daughter of yours pamper you and make sure you get the grandkids to read to you, this time.”

  Alice looked over the roof of the car, a quick glance before she slipped in to the driver’s seat.

  Thanks, she mouthed silently, grimly.

  “You right, Mum?”

  “Let’s go,” Mandy said, winding up her window.

  Hannie stood in the driveway until the car had driven all the way down the gravel drive to the main road. Then she raced back down the hill to her cottage, burst through the front door and flicked on the radio positioned on the bench top next to the fridge. She was always tuned into the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, the official emergency broadcaster in times of disaster. At times like this, it was a welcome relief to hear the calm tones of the announcer Hannie recognised from last summer.

  “Winds are turning east to north-easterly throughout the afternoon with an increased bushfire danger rating from severe to extreme. There are very hot, dry, and windy conditions expected. If a fire starts and takes hold, it will be extremely difficult to contain and will take significant resources to bring it under control. Spot fires will start well ahead of the main fire and cause rapid spread of the fire. Embers will come from many directions. The safest place to be is away from bushfire prone areas.”

  Hannie’s heart pounded in her chest and, despite the champagne she’d shared with Dylan, she was wide awake and alert, the adrenalin coursing through her. According to the radio and the information from the emergency services, the fire was about ten kilometres away and fast approaching the small township of Normanton, about twenty kilometres north east of Reynolds Ridge. The advice to residents there was to leave now.

  Nothing about Reynolds Ridge yet.

  There were things to do to secure her property and Mandy’s and, for an hour, she checked pumps and the generator in the main shed. If power lines were down, which often happened when high winds felled trees, there would be no mains power, so people
in the hills had their own generators for their irrigation systems, to spray their houses with water if fire approached. She really didn’t have to do all this checking; it was part of her weekly routine during the bushfire season, but it calmed her to double and triple check. During her work, she could see the smoke rising higher and higher in the sky and, worryingly, it wasn’t just white now. There were dark puffs too, and she knew what that meant. It wasn’t just trees that were burning.

  Dark, almost black, billowing smoke in the distance meant that buildings had been lost—sheds or homes or businesses. She quickly went back inside to her radio. With a long glass of iced water, she sat in the kitchen, fidgeting, hanging on every word of the emergency broadcaster for any news, for any change in conditions, for any new warnings. Reynolds Ridge was southwest of the fire at Normanton and the wind was blowing from the south. She hoped that meant it was blowing away from the ridge, but nothing could be reliably predicted in a bushfire. Embers could travel kilometres and land in long grass, sparking new fires. Wind could change direction in a moment, and flare dying flames. Lightning strikes could set up fires anywhere.

  She was aware, ready to go if she had to. She made sure Ted was securely tied to the leg of the table in the kitchen, so she had one less thing to worry about. She looked down at his face and worried for him. Ted was like a radar system for her. He knew when someone was in the house. He seemed to sniff a change in the wind. And when the weather was like this, he never left her side.

  “You’re a legend, Ted, you know that?” Ted’s eyes squinted in delight as she scratched him behind the ear.

  As she listened to the radio, she absent-mindedly stroked his back. She took in every detail of the advice from the Country Fire Service and the police about evacuations and warnings.

  They continually reminded people. “Stay until it’s not safe to do so. If you are planning to leave, leave early in case your escape route is compromised by smoke of fire, or fallen trees or loose power lines.”

  She was taking in so much information, listening so intently to the radio, Hannie hadn’t realised it was dark outside until she looked through the kitchen window to check on the dark smoke and saw the night.