Riding the Storm (3 page)

Less than half an hour later, leaving the other rider to make the horrifying discovery of Lanigan’s body lying face down in the shallows, Harry had packed up his camp, leaving no trace of his presence, and was already on his way south.

‘I don’t know what happened, Mum, but it was an accident. You can’t blame Tommy for this.’ Feeling close to falling apart himself, Ryan tried to reason with his mother, who was sobbing and shaking with hysteria. ‘If you want to blame anyone, blame me. If I’d been there myself, I might have saved him. Melia wasn’t strong enough to pull him out of the sea. She turned him over and did the best she could, ringing emergency services right away, then she managed to get hold of both horses.’

‘Damn the horses! I never want to see either of them again.’
Joanne was seated in a basket chair on the veranda, rocking herself in her grief, almost suffocating the little Italian greyhound she held in her lap. ‘And don’t talk to me about Melia. I told her she’s not welcome here any more and not to come back.’

‘You shouldn’t have done that, Mum. I’ll need all the help I can get.’

‘Not if you get rid of the horses.’

‘Well,’ Ryan muttered. ’We’ll have to see about that.’ He had no intention of selling Tommy and Sprite, or managing the stables without Melia’s help. His father might no longer be here, but he was determined to continue and enlarge the venture Peter had started, rather than part with their horses.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing. And don’t hold Tinka so hard, you’re strangling the poor dog.’

‘Oh.’ Joanne released the little dog, which ran away to hide under the table.

‘I’m so sorry, Ryan,’ Melia said when he finally tracked her down at her sister’s place where she was babysitting the children. ‘But I can’t work where I’m not wanted. Your mother blames me for what happened to Pete—’

‘But I don’t and I’m the one you’ll be working for. You’re our track rider too. I’d rather muck out the stables myself and let the lads go.’

‘But your mother said there won’t be any work as she’s selling the horses.’

‘Take no notice of Mum. She’s half mad with grief, besides being—’ He hesitated, feeling it would be disloyal to mention his mother’s illness.

‘Being what?’

‘Never mind. She was upset and if you stay out of her way, she won’t even remember you’re there. She’s very forgetful these days.’

‘Well, OK. I’ll help out for the sake of the horses. But if she shouts at me like that again and says awful things, I shall leave and I won’t be back.’

‘OK. If you come in the early hours of the morning and leave before nine, she won’t see you. She takes pills to help her sleep and never gets up before ten.’

‘All right.’ Melia still sounded doubtful. ‘But I’m gone at the first sign of trouble.’

‘I
DON’T GET
it.’ Valerie stared at her husband, surprised by the suggestion he had just made. ‘You’ve shut Peter out of your life for years. Why is it now so important to go to his funeral?’

Robert sighed, his expression pained. ‘Because that’s what families do, Val. I need closure as well as to pay my respects. I know we had our differences but Peter was still my brother.’

Val heard this with narrowed eyes, still unconvinced. ‘But why would you waste time driving all that way instead of going by air? I can’t see the round trip taking less than two weeks. And time is money, isn’t it? So you always say.’

‘Because I’m taking a horsebox, that’s why. I want to get hold of Hunter’s Moon before that boy panics and sells him.’

‘Well, if it troubles you that much – why not fly up? You’ll be there that much sooner and you can hire a car and a horsebox on the spot.’ Val was teasing – not quite believing he was serious in his intent.

‘Don’t be stupid. They could give me anything. A box that hasn’t been properly cleaned – full of germs and God knows what tropical diseases. A hire car that breaks down as soon as I’m out on the open road—’

‘Oh, I get it. This journey has nothing to do with paying your last respects to your brother. It’s always about money and horses with you, isn’t it? You can’t bear to let even one get away from you. If you wanted this horse so badly, why didn’t you outbid Peter at the auction and save yourself time and trouble? It isn’t as if you’re short of money, is it?’

Robert scowled. ‘The trouble with you, Val, is that you try to make everything seem so logical. As it happens, I was short of money that day. The horse that we brought to Sydney had failed and the owners wanted to sell it on the spot. On top of that, they’d given me a hefty deposit to buy them another horse at the sales but of course, having lost faith in me, they wanted their money back. And that left me with a cash-flow problem just at the time I needed more money to buy Hunter’s Moon.’

‘I see.’

‘But fate has delivered the perfect opportunity for me to get him back. D’you think that boy has any idea how to care for a champion, let alone train him? I don’t like to see a promising horse go to waste.’

‘I still think it’s unfeeling. We don’t know what their plans are – or if they have any. They’ll still be in shock. If you’re determined to go, we should fly up together to give Joanne our support. She’ll be glad of another woman’s company at such a time. You should leave your concerns about horses till later.’

‘And then they’ll have sold Hunter’s Moon to somebody else.’ Robert’s temper rose along with his voice, making her blink. ‘What makes you think Joanne would welcome you, anyway?’

‘Why shouldn’t she? You were the one who upset her, not me.’

‘Well, we don’t need to go into that now. And there’s no point in discussing it further because I’m going alone. Haven’t you enough on your plate with Chrissie’s wedding?’

‘Yes, but we still need to talk this through—’

Then Valerie stopped and sighed as she realized she was talking to herself. Robert had left the room.

Halfway through the boring and arduous journey north on roads that seemed to go on forever, he was beginning to wish he’d let Val come with him, after all. At least she could have shared the driving. Faced with travelling up the inland highways to Brisbane and beyond, through cane fields, miles of open countryside and subtropical scrub, he found himself missing her endless chatter about lists of wedding guests and whether more people could be invited if they had a buffet rather than a ‘sit down’ meal. At one point, he caught himself nodding off and almost drove into a tree at the side of the road. That gave him such a jolt of adrenaline that he was wide awake for the next few hours.

He knew his brother’s funeral was being delayed to accommodate him but he realized he needed to take more breaks to drink coffee and stretch his legs. Better to arrive in one piece rather than not at all.

Ryan felt a deep resentment against his uncle for the unnecessary delay. He knew Robert had never cared much for his younger brother, so why did he have to come here now he was gone? It didn’t make any sense. Nor was he looking forward to meeting him. Dad had rarely spoken of his older brother but what little he did say wasn’t good. Ryan’s impression was of a
teasing bully, hell-bent on having his own way in all things. And, although it was presently no more than a feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew that all wasn’t quite as it seemed. Robert wouldn’t come all this way for nothing – he must have a hidden agenda. As soon as he heard of his brother’s death, he’d announced his intention to drive north immediately. Drive? Did he have any idea how far from Melbourne that was? It would take a week to accomplish what a flight would achieve in a single day. Why would he drive all that way just to stay a few days for the funeral? No. There was something else he was missing. Going over their brief conversation, Ryan felt as if he’d been dismissed, treated as if he were no more than ten years old. It felt like a verbal pat on the head. His uncle had told him not to worry as he would take charge of all the arrangements. Ryan couldn’t help feeling these arrangements might mean a lot more than Peter’s funeral.

His mother agreed with him; she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Robert either, particularly as he was coming alone. Her mind kept returning to the rough treatment and near rape she had received at his hands and she shivered. As her husband’s only surviving relative it wouldn’t be right to deny him the chance to say goodbye. She could only hope that he wouldn’t stay long. Ryan was quick to pick up on her mood.

‘You don’t like Uncle Robert, do you, Mum?’

‘I thought I did. A long time ago. But now he scares me.’

‘Scares you?’ Ryan frowned.

‘No, that’s not quite what I mean. He intimidates me.’

‘Hah! He’d better not try intimidation while I’m around.’

‘Now don’t go looking for trouble, Ryan. He has an awful temper. Just agree with whatever he says and we’ll change it
to suit ourselves when he’s gone.’

Somehow Ryan had the feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as that.

All his misgivings came rushing back a week later when Robert drove up to the house, pulling a horsebox behind his massive Range Rover, both car and trailer covered in mud and dust from the road.

‘What a horrible journey.’ Robert greeted his nephew with false heartiness and a wide smile. ‘I won’t try that again in a hurry.’

‘Uncle Robert.’ He greeted the man with a tight smile and folded arms. Somehow he didn’t feel like shaking hands and he saw Robert wasn’t offering to do so either. Physically, the man was nothing like his father, except he was tall. Robert was almost obese, had a florid, unhealthy complexion, lines of discontent on his face and a hard expression in his eyes. There was little about him to like.

‘Well, well. Young Ryan, isn’t it? You look just like your mother. I don’t see much of your father in you at all.’

If this was intended as a put-down, Ryan didn’t react, merely gesturing for his uncle to come inside. He knew he should say ‘Nice to see you’ or ‘Welcome to North Queensland’ but somehow the words stuck in his throat and wouldn’t be said.

‘Joanne,’ Robert greeted his sister-in-law, pretending not to notice when she flinched from his kiss on her cheek, causing her little Italian greyhound at her feet to jump up and down, going into a frenzy of barking. ‘And lovely as ever.’

This was plainly untrue. Since her husband’s death, Joanne
had diminished. Always slender, she was now almost skeletal and paler than usual with purple circles beneath her eyes. But even when the little dog had been pacified and Robert invited inside, Ryan didn’t feel able to show much enthusiasm.

The atmosphere during supper, seated around the kitchen table, was no better, serving only to accentuate the awkwardness they were all feeling. Joanne had provided a simple meal of roast chicken served with a generous amount of Ryan’s home-grown vegetables. After demanding a beer to go with it, Robert ate ravenously without thanking or complimenting his hostess. He sat back and belched loudly when he was done.

Ignoring his uncle’s rudeness and wanting answers to the questions seething in his mind, Ryan brought up the subject of the horsebox as soon as he could.

‘Well, Nunc,’ he said, doing his best to sound like a hayseed and well aware that his uncle would find such a nickname offensive. ‘Why trail an empty horsebox all this way? You fixin’ to buy yourself a couple of horses on the way home? ’Scuse me but I thought you already had the best horses down south?’

‘You’re playing with me, Ryan.’ Robert gave a thin smile, rocking back in his chair. ‘You know very well that I’ve come to take Hunter’s Moon off your hands.’

‘Good!’ Joanne broke in before Ryan could object. ‘The sooner that vicious animal leaves, the better. I can’t even stand to look at him – knowing that he’s responsible for Peter’s death.’

‘Oh, Mum, we don’t know that.’ Weary of this old argument, Ryan felt bound to contradict her. ‘Tommy’s not in the least bit vicious. I saw what happened myself the first time
– something scared him, moving under the water. I don’t know what happened the second time. Melia didn’t get there in time to see.’

‘An unfortunate accident. These things happen,’ Robert said smoothly, not wanting them to stray off the point. ‘Ill-tempered or not, I’m still interested in that horse.’

‘Forget it. He’s not bad-tempered and definitely not for sale.’

‘Let me finish.’ Robert flushed, unused to being so rudely interrupted. Most people listened politely to whatever he had to say. ‘I know Pete paid over the odds for him but I’m prepared to give you a small profit to take him off your hands.’

‘In your dreams, Nunc. If that’s why you’re here, you’ve wasted your time. I’ll say it again in case you missed it the first time – our horses are not for sale.’

‘Surely that’s for your mother to decide.’ Robert turned to Joanne smiling, confident of her support.

‘No.’ Ryan hesitated, not wanting to speak of Joanne’s condition and his father’s intention to leave him in charge of his stables and horses. ‘Mum doesn’t understand horses so Dad was going to leave them to me.’

‘Was going to?’ Robert seized on this loophole. ‘So you don’t have this in writing? Peter hasn’t made a will setting out his wishes and confirming them?’

‘I don’t know.’ For a moment, Ryan felt less than assured. ‘Dad was still young. He wasn’t expecting to—’

‘To die? Of course not. Who does? We like to think we have all the time in the world. So let me be clear on this. If Pete didn’t make a will, leaving you in charge of the stables, these business decisions remain with Joanne – who has already said she would like me to take Hunter’s Moon.’ He finished,
clapping his hands together in triumph.

‘Mum!’ Ryan stared at his mother in desperation, willing her to take his side. ‘Dad thought of Tommy as our investment in the future. He’d want us to keep him. You know that.’

‘The horse that you think was responsible for his death?’ Robert’s tone was soft but insistent.

‘I don’t know – I don’t know.’ Confused, Joanne looked from one to the other of the two faces staring at her so intently, quite unable to decide.

‘Don’t stress on it, sweetheart.’ Robert patted her hand until she snatched it away. His tone was placating but to Ryan it sounded like the hiss of a snake. ‘You think about it overnight and we’ll talk about it after the funeral.’

‘Yes, yes. After the funeral,’ Joanne murmured. ‘Oh, my poor Peter.’ And she bent her head to hide the fat tears spilling over and rolling down her cheeks. Tinka growled softly, blaming Robert for being the cause of her sorrow.

Ryan stood up, making no attempt to conceal his contempt for his uncle. ‘Don’t worry, Mum. This man isn’t here because he has any feelings for Dad or for you. He’s come here for one reason only – to get his grasping fingers on Hunter’s Moon.’

Robert stood up and flushed an even deeper shade of red, making Joanne look up at him in alarm.

‘Please stop. Aren’t things bad enough already?’ she said in a voice thick with tears. ‘I can’t bear these arguments and fights.’

‘Sorry, Joanne.’ Robert was first to relax and apologize. ‘But your son tries my patience. I came here to offer a reasonable solution to your predicament, only to have it thrown back in my face.’

‘There is no predicament. We were quite all right until you came,’ Ryan shot back at him.

‘Your son is a hothead.’ Robert ignored him, speaking to Joanne. ‘But if he’ll shake hands and reconsider my generous offer, I’m willing to overlook his rudeness – this time.’ Robert held out his hand.

‘There.’ Joanne ventured a watery smile, waiting for her son to accept it and apologize. Instead, he moved away from the table, close to tears himself and shaking his head.

‘You might fool my mum, Uncle Robert. She thinks well of everyone.’ He ground out the words, almost too breathless with emotion to speak. ‘But you certainly don’t fool me. I’m going to see to the horses.’

He didn’t speak to his uncle again, although the three of them travelled to the crematorium in the funeral director’s car behind the hearse. The driver didn’t seem to think it odd that nobody spoke. Joanne wept silently the whole time and wouldn’t be comforted, huge tears rolling down her face. She mopped them with a handful of sodden tissues.

There were more people in the tiny chapel than Ryan expected. In death, it seemed that Peter Lanigan enjoyed even more popularity than when he was alive. Joanne paused in the entrance, daunted by the sight of so many people until Ryan took her gently by the hand, encouraging her towards the pew set aside for them. A minister they didn’t know, engaged by the funeral directors, performed a brief Anglican service. Joanne was all right until the moment came for Peter’s coffin to disappear into the furnace when she stood up and cried out.

‘Oh, my poor Peter. I can’t bear this. No. No.’ And, sobbing
hysterically, she would have run towards it if Ryan hadn’t caught her, holding her back. Overcome by a fresh storm of tears, she collapsed into his embrace.