‘Anyone with you?’
‘Don’t be silly, Leonard. Of course not. It’s just me.’
‘No other cars hanging around?’
I looked up and down the road. Passing traffic: a courier van, a car, nothing out of the ordinary. No parked vehicles, nobody loitering.
‘No. What’s this about?’
‘I’ll be right down.’
‘Press sniffing around,’ explained Leonard as he chained and locked the gate behind us. ‘Started with just one this morning, hanging around the front gate when I got back from the beach. Told ’im to bugger off. Next thing I know, there’s a pair of ’em! Knocking on the door, peering through the bloody window, gawping at the horses. Phone’s been ringing a lot, too.’ He cast a suspicious glare at a passing SUV.
‘Press? Why?’
‘Told you no good would come of it – drawing attention to myself.’
Oh.
‘But I don’t get it.’ I waved my arms helplessly. Surely Leonard was overreacting?
‘Someone must’ve seen the article in the Chronicle. Maybe local journos sniffed a story, tipped ’em the wink. Now those fucking media sharks have smelled blood.’
‘Leonard, sorry – I don’t understand. Why would the media be interested in you?’
‘Digging up my past, Grace. Exactly what I was worried about. Tried to tell ya.’ He paced up and down the cramped kitchen, hands jammed in his pockets. I hadn’t seen him this agitated since the incident in the dunes.
‘But your past is well known. You made one terrible mistake a long time ago, served your sentence. Since then … what’s there to dig up?’
Even as I said these words, a voice in my head started to ask questions. Discomfiting, disloyal questions. They had been there all along, deep in my subconscious, but now they welled up to the surface.
It’s difficult to serve a long sentence without calling on ‘favours’ which must be repaid even after release. Had Leonard managed to escape that sticky web of obligations? His ‘bikie mates’ – were they law-abiding enthusiasts or outlaw gang members? What about Shorty, who had meant so much to him: the ‘gentle, loving’ armed robber who died so suddenly?
Then there was the mystery of Leonard’s income. He didn’t work that I was aware of, other than his scientific research, which surely didn’t bring in any money and probably cost a good deal. He was only now reaching retirement age – and could scarely have built up any super. Was he still living on his uncle’s inheritance? The uncle who had to sell his motorcycles because he was ‘strapped for cash’? The uncle whose will Leonard was rumoured to have forged, before ‘doing him in’ …
Stop right there, Grace Davies.
‘They’ll be on to you next.’
‘They won’t get anything out of me. And anyway there’s nothing to get, is there?’ I meant it as a statement but that question tag hung in the air between us. Leonard gave me a sharp look.
‘No, Grace, there isn’t. But that won’t stop ’em making something up. Anything’s grist to their mill. Anything at all. Bastards.’
‘Well, they won’t get any “grist” from me. You can rely on that.’
His expression softened. He stopped pacing.
‘I know, love, I know. You’re the only person in the world right now I can rely on. One hundred per cent.’
‘You can, Leonard. You absolutely can.’
Although this is all my fault.
‘Anyway, enough of my troubles … How’s little Billy?’
Relieved to change the subject, I showed him the latest photos on my phone.
‘Aww … Looks just like his grandma,’ he said, peering at the tiny pudgy face on the screen.
‘Do you think so?’ It still felt funny, being Grandma. ‘I can see Geoff in him more. He’s got his father’s nose and big chin, bless him, which Josh got from Geoff.’
‘About time Grandma paid him a visit, don’t you think? Surprised you didn’t scoot up there for the birth. I would have, in your shoes.’
‘Oh, I thought they had enough people fussing around. Melissa’s family are nice, but …’ I let the word trail.
‘Ah.’ Leonard nodded sympathetically. ‘Well – don’t let ’em squeeze you out, old girl. He’s your grandson too.’
‘I was going to say, actually. Josh and Melissa have invited me up for Easter.’
‘Ah! There you go, then.’
‘But I don’t want to leave you in the lurch with … all this.’
Leonard smiled sadly. ‘There’s absolutely nothing you can do – and to be honest, you’re better off out of it. Soon blow over.’
I protested, but my heart wasn’t really in it. I needed – and wanted – to go. My flights were already booked.
‘So I might not see you until I get back. Do take care of yourself, won’t you?’
‘Yeah. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. But before you head off, there’s an idea I need to run by you. Been meaning to bring it up, but never found the right moment.’
‘Sure.’ It sounded like a big deal.
He laid a sheaf of papers on the table and started to outline his scheme. It wasn’t long before I put a hand on his arm to stop him.
‘Leonard, Leonard. I’m not the right person for this. I know absolutely nothing about horses.’
‘Doesn’t matter. As trustee, you’d just be in charge of oversight, checking that the money is spent in accordance with the aims of the trust.’
‘Let me think about it. It’s a heavy responsibility.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much. If nothing happens to me – and there’s no reason why anything should …’
I left Leonard’s with my head in a whirl. He came to the gate to let me out. I saw his worried face and raised hand in the rear view mirror.
Then he was gone.
Next week in Beach Walker:
Chapter 21: Follow the Money
Grace takes a trip up to Byron Bay to see her newborn grandson. Meanwhile things heat up down south.
Disclaimer: The people and events described in this story are entirely the product of the author’s imagination; they bear no intentional resemblance to real-life people and events. The locations are authentic.
You have the knack of giving us tidbits of information, and leaving us looking for to the events to come in next chapter.