The Ten-pound Ticket (7 page)

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Authors: Amanda Prowse

BOOK: The Ten-pound Ticket
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‘Don’t be ridiculous! That’s not true. It can’t be.’ Loulou’s words sprang into her mind
, ‘I am nothing and it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me here, not even close…’

Slade lowered his voice, ‘Oh, but it’s true all right, I seen it with me own eyes and you want to be careful, Missy, without Mitch here to keep the dingo’s off his property, things he owns might get a little damaged, d’you get me?’

Susie felt a quake of fear that started in her gut and spread to her limbs, standing, she tried to feel strong, she could not be threatened by him, she had a little boy to protect, ‘I think there must be some mistake…’ she spoke to the ether, wondering if she was listed alphabetically and what might come before and after.

‘No. No mistake, I promise you.’

Phillip’s voice cut through the darkness, ‘And I promise you, Mr Williams that if you don’t get your things together and be gone by sun up, then it’ll be more than dingoes that you’ll have to worry about. Go now and go quietly.’ Neither had heard him approach in the dusk.

‘I ain’t afraid of you, you gutless Pom!’ he veered on Phillip.

‘And neither should you be. I am a man of reason and as long as you are reasonable you have nothing to fear.’

‘A man of reason? Is that right? All I know is that your uncle was ashamed of you, he told me that and I can see why! Reckon you might be fooling others, but I’m not taken in by your shiny buttons and your slick haircut!’

‘Thank you for that valuable insight, Mr Williams, the clock is ticking. I suggest you go and pack.’

Slade swayed where he stood, considering his best course of action. It was a relief to all when he broke into a run towards the lodging block.

‘Are you really a man of reason?’ Susie asked.

‘Depends on what you mean by reason.’ Phillip’s voice was soft.

Susie let her head fall against her chest and she mumbled into it. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t call a person a “thing” would you? To be inherited like a… a… a piece of furniture.’ Her body shook with the exertion.

‘Don’t cry. Come on. That disgusting bully is gone and he won’t be coming back.’

‘I think he beat Elouera, very badly, knocked out one of her teeth and cut her lip. I’m sure it was him. I won’t ever forget finding her like that. She hasn’t told me exactly what happened, but I expect he did worse than that.’

He turned away from her and stretched his arm out towards her, urging her to follow him wherever he was heading and if she had been alone, she just might have.

‘I… I can’t leave my son.’

‘You have a son?’ he sounded incredulous.

She nodded towards the cabin, where Nicholas now slept, unaware of the drama unfolding outside the ill-fitting front door.

‘Yes, a little boy, Nicholas. He’s fourteen months old.’
One of two, twins ...

He took a sharp intake of breath, ‘Is Mitch his father?’

‘Urgh!’ she couldn’t contain the involuntary shudder that swept over her from head to toe, ‘No. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but, God no.’

‘Good. If he had a son, it would change things significantly.’

Susie sat down on the cushion and drew up her legs, hugging her knees towards her chest. She spoke quietly, as if only to herself. ‘I had twins. My boy, Nicholas, and a little girl, Abigail. It’s a horrible mess. I’m from Dorset. I’ve been here for almost a year. I got pregnant back in England and my mother arranged for me to go to a mother-and-baby home,’ she broke off to gather her thoughts, to try and regulate her breathing, this was the first time she had spoken her story aloud. ‘They took her; the nuns who ran the house were quite wicked. I changed my mind about giving my babies away the very second I looked at them, but it was too late for Abigail, they took her and I had to think fast to escape with Nicholas. I heard that they were offering the ten-pound ticket for people to come over and start a new life here. Mitch sponsored me and it all went wrong and now you have to help me. Please.’

Her sob was loud and unrestrained; she shook her head before laying it on her folded arms and concentrated on getting her words out,

‘I am so very, very unhappy. I don’t know how I keep going. I miss my home, I miss having handfuls of shampoo to soap my hair, I miss music, coffee shops, London, the coast, rain. I miss everything. If it wasn’t for my son I would have curled up and died, I know I would. I can’t think. I can’t think about anything, not my past or my future, I can’t. I have to just keep going because if I think about my life or what lies ahead, I think I might go crazy. I’m on the other side of the world to my little girl who doesn’t even know I exist. My baby boy spends his life either asleep in a cot or waiting for me to come home and when I’m not with him, I am a skivvy, cleaning and cooking and waiting on the pigs while they drink and play cards. I think this is hell. I think that I have been sent here to be punished, I really do.’ Her tears dripped from her face and splashed on her arms.

Phillip reached out a finger and stroked her arm. Susie’s hair stood on end. He had such a commanding presence, she almost felt afraid of him.

‘What will happen to us now?’

‘Well, Miss Susie, that depends on you.’ Phillip placed his hand on her back, rubbing in small circles; she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her frock.

It felt wonderful to feel human contact. She felt her spine unknot beneath his touch, ‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Phillip leant closer and gave her the softest kiss on the lips. ‘Let’s just say that if you’re nice to me, I’ll make sure that everyone’s nice to you.’ He looked at her affectionately. ‘Remember, you have your whole life ahead of you here. You might as well make the most of what you’ve got.’

She closed her eyes, confusion whirling in her brain, as he moved his hand down to her breast.

‘No! No… I can’t!’ Standing up she stepped back and held him at arm’s length. ‘Phillip, I don’t know if I can do this, I want to, I do, but you’re married… I can’t afford to make any more mistakes.’

She cried then as she lowered her arms to her side.

‘Oh no, please no more tears.’ His voice had taken on a different tone, harsher.

‘I’m sorry.’ Susie mumbled as she sank back down onto the cushions under the awning and lay in silence, allowing her racing heart to settle. Phillip lay next to her and stroked her skin. She savoured the weight of his palm as it skimmed her body, drawing the ache from her bones and healing her spirit.

‘Now why don’t we try that again?’ He rolled onto her, pinning her under his weight, pushing her down into the cushions as he fumbled under her vest, his breath coming in short, heavy, beery bursts as his tongue snaked into her mouth.

Susie tried to wriggle free, ‘Please… stop… no! Don’t talk to me like that!’ She didn’t know where she found the courage, but knew that she had to lay a marker, if he was going to be her new boss, she had to make a stand or things for her and her son could get a whole lot worse.

‘I’ll talk to you anyway I please, Slade was right, you come with the property.’ A glob of spit landed on her cheek, as she felt her insides turn to ice.

She heard his zipper being opened and closed her eyes as he whispered into her ear, ‘I reckon old Mitch had the right idea, dirty old sod, and I think you’ll make my visits here that much more palatable. Don’t worry, I’ll leave Joanne at home next time. Be a good girl and don’t make a fuss, I’d hate to have to give you the same as Mitch gave Elouera.’

‘You bastard!’ she managed through her tears and had her arms not been trapped beneath his body, would have beat him with her fists.

As Phillip grappled at her dress, Susie felt her mind drift away from what was about to happen to her. She thought her about her bedroom at her parents’ house and wondered whether it looked the same as she had left it, the candlewick bedspread, the books, her guitar… Suddenly there was a crack and Phillip slumped forward. A guttural sound escaped from him, as if the breath had been knocked from his body. Susie scrambled out and saw Slade standing over Phillip with a plank in his hand.

‘Slade!’ Susie cried as she reached for dress, shaking.

‘It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Get your stuff together; we haven’t got long. I’ll bring the truck round, you’re going home.’

‘Going home?’ she hardly dare speak the words, ‘How?’

‘Mitch was a wealthy man, not that you’d think so, judging by how he lived, but he was, very wealthy. I took what was needed and I’ve arranged for tickets. You need to pack up your things and prepare to go, I don’t know how long he’ll be out for.’ He indicated Phillip face down on the cushions, ‘We’re meeting a mate who will take you on and you’ll be back in Pomland before you know it.’

‘Really?’ she blinked up at him

‘Really.’

‘I’m going home!’ She beamed, ‘I’m going home and I can find Abigail, I can go and get my little girl! I… I don’t… I… what can I say, but thank you, Slade.’ Susie sobbed, allowing all the sadness that had pooled inside her for the last few months come to the fore.

Slade disappeared into the darkness as Susie gathered up the sleeping Nicholas and shoved what came to hand into her suitcase. She waited, wondering if it was all a trap, not sure who to trust. The sound of the pickup engine was like music as it cut through the chirping night song. Slade helped her into the front seat, where a beaming Loulou was already seated.

‘Loulou!’ Susie fell into her friend, holding her tightly.

‘Slade been looking after me, patched me up. I’m going across country to stay with my daughter.’ She nodded matter of factly.

‘Slade, I don’t know what to say to you. I’m sorry…’ Susie watched a small flicker of a smile on his thin mouth.

Slade spat into the foot well, ‘Ah, cut it out. Don’t start going all sweet talk on me.’

Nicholas sighed and carried on sleeping, unaware.

‘Make good choices for him.’ Slade spoke to the view from his window, ‘You need to screw your head on right. There might not always be some nasty creature on hand to keep the boss drunk and out of your hair, or to leave you a welcome flower…’

‘That was you?’ Susie smiled.

Slade shrugged.

‘Reckon Slade did a lot for us, Susie,’ Elouera sighed, ‘Reckon he might even have killed old Gunnerslake, least that what I think.’

Susie looked at the road ahead, ‘Oh no, you didn’t kill him did you, Slade?’

Slade shook his head. ‘I didn’t, never killed anyone, I couldn’t.’

Susie closed her eyes. She pictured Mitch, moments before he died, having his afternoon nap in his greasy sheets. It had only taken a moment to place a pillow over his open, snoring mouth. It had only taken a minute before he stopped struggling.

‘He’s telling the truth, Loulou,’ Susie sighed. ‘Slade didn’t kill Mitch. I did.’

The two women interlocked their fingers, holding hands, as the dust kicked up a storm under the wheels of the truck, not that they noticed. They were looking forward at the road ahead, thinking of the new life that awaited them, a life beyond the gates of Mulga Plains. A new beginning.

We hope you enjoyed this book.

If you haven’t already read the other stories in Amanda Prowse’s gripping
No Greater Love
sequence, read on or click the links below for previews of

Poppy Day

What Have I Done?

and

Clover’s Child

and

A Little Love

Or

To find out about Amanda Prowse, click
here
.

To discover more books by Amanda Prowse, click
here
.

For an invitation from the publisher, click
here
.

Poppy Day — Preview

Read on for the first chapter of

How far would you go to bring home the one you love?

A gripping story of loss and courage from army wife Amanda Prowse.

1

The major yanked first at one cuff and then the other, ensuring three-eighths of an inch was visible beneath his tunic sleeves. With his thumb and forefinger he circled his lips, finishing with a small cough, designed to clear the throat. He nodded in the direction of the door, indicating to the accompanying sergeant that he could proceed. He was ready.

‘Coming!' Poppy cast the sing-song word over her shoulder in the direction of the hallway, once again making a mental note to fix the front door bell as the internal mechanism grated against the loose, metal cover. The intensely irritating sound had become part of the rhythm of the flat. She co-habited with an orchestra of architectural ailments, the stars of which were the creaking hinge of the bedroom door, the dripping
bathroom
tap and the whirring extractor fan that now extracted very little.

Poppy smiled and looped her hair behind her ears. It was probably Jenna, who would often nip over during her lunch break. Theirs was a comfortable camaraderie, arrived at after many years of friendship; no need to wash up cups, hide laundry or even get dressed, they interacted without inhibition or
pretence
. Poppy prepped the bread and counted the fish fingers under the grill, working out how to make two sandwiches instead of one, an easy calculation. She felt a swell of happiness.

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