CHAPTER 6

"You just had to leave, didnt you, jerk," I grumbled to myself as I approached the scary old wooden door of the Wilgul homestead. I was all alone and felt helpless and weak. If only there was somebody with me. Tyler had gone back to Sydney. I wasnt expecting him to call me anytime soon. Nor did I expect he would ever want to see me again and although it hurt, I wasnt planning on giving up and going after him.

The house was small and cute with a lot of character. I liked it at first sight and I as I walked up to the door, I wasn't quite sure what would be waiting inside for me. I stood there for a moment but feeling like a scared fool, I cleared my throat and knocked on the door. I waited for a moment and then turned slightly away to leave when the door opened. Counting my experience, I couldnt be sure if the person who answered the door would be real or not. But when a young man opened the door and smiled at me, his charming green eyes lighting up, I wanted him to be real. And after only a minute, I realized, he was indeed a real human being.

"Oh, hi," I stuttered. "I'm Anita Parker. Is Lewis Ryan here?"

"Yeah," he smiled again. "He's inside. Please, come in."

I walked slowly up the long corridor and feeling him behind me, I hesitated to turn around and look at him as we walked. Without turning around I began to ask some question.s

"Are you his son?"

"No, no. I'm just a friend," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Mark Weller"

"It's very nice to meet you, Mark," I smiled uncertainly. We'd reached an open door so I gave him my hand.

"You too," he smiled back warmly, accepting my shaking hand. "Here!" he pointed an old man sitting on a couch in a study room.

"Is this Lewis?" I asked stupidly. Immediately after the question left my mouth, I knew it was of course Lewis. I always acted this way in the presence of a handsome guy.

"Yes," he replied, choosing to ignore what I viewed as my stupidity. "If you need anything, I I'll be in the kitchen."

"Thanks," I said, my voice trailing off. I breathed in deeply and slowly lifted my foot and placed it in the room.

"I thought you'd never come," a voice called from the study. "It would be the wise thing to do"

"Excuse me, what did you say?" I asked as I stood in the doorway, puzzled.

"I said nothing," the man spoke standing up. "Who are you?"

"Mr. Ryan, sorry for not calling before I came. My name is Anita Parker. I own Drovers Run," I replied, trying to curb my shaking voice.

"So you decided to find out. Impressive. But don't bother," he said sarcastically.

"What did you say?"

"Why do you keep asking what I said? I said nothing, I wasnt talking," he shouted. He stood looking out the window and then he turned his eyes to me. "What do you want?"

"I… I just…" I stood there willing myself not to cry. "I just wanted to ask some questions about your mother and Drovers Run."

"Who told you that I wanted to talk about these?" Lewis asked.

I prepared to answer before I heard another voice.

"Just bugger off!" I thought it was Lewis at first but then it turned out someone who I couldn't see was yellinh. I tried to ignore them but it was proving harder.

"Nobody, really. I just… I just."

It was hard to ignore such a thing and not only did my answers suffer, but I couldnt hold my tears anymore. There was no reason for me to cry. I had been so strong lately, no matter what. But now I felt like a little child, lost, lonely and needing to be loved.

"When did you buy the house?" he asked, trying to understand why I was crying. When I didn't answer, he got slightly angered and yelled out. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," I said, sniffling and wiping my nose on my jumper. "I didnt buy the house. My mother left it to me when she died."

"She left? What was her name?" he asked, not fully understanding what I was trying to say.

"Brittany Parker. You probably wouldnt know her. She was Charlotte McLeod's daughter," I answered, calming down slightly.

"Oh yeah. Charlotte! Poor thing," he muttered to himself thoughtfully as he turned towards his chair. "Is she alive?"

"No. I'm sorry. She died 5 years ago. You remember her?" I asked excitedly. I suddenly found myself smiling.

"Yes, of course I do," he answered, giving me an insulted look. "Come here. Have a seat."

………………………..

"I am 63 years old now. I was only 6 when Aunt Claire died. Charlotte was 9 and Gary was 8. We loved to play together. Oh, they really were the good old days," he sighed, lost in thoughts.

"How did your aunt die?" I asked, wanting to know every part of the story. My question snapped him out of his daydream.

"Car accident," he replied. "Oh, it was horrible. She drove off a cliff in her Ute.Some people still think that she drove off the cliff on purpose."

"God! Why would she do such thing?" I asked, completely shocked.

"Because of the fight," he said matter-of-factly.

"What fight?" I asked again. This story was certainly getting interesting.

"I don't remember exactly," he sighed. "But sometimes I still hear her voice in my head. I can hear her shouting, 'Get out!' But not much else."

I wished momentarily I could see my own expressions as he weaved the tale. I loved watching peoples reactions.

"Who did she…" I started to ask but he ignored me and kept going.

"I remember Gary telling me to keep quiet. It was a huge fight. We all hid under the table listening to her mother's good Chine hitting the walls and smashing into millions of pieces. Charlotte, as always, was the bravest. She went inside to ask her mother what was happening. Aunt Claire said nothing to Charlotte. She just left and never came back, you know. She was furious. It's a little blurry but I remember Charlotte crying after the funeral. She was begging to stay with Uncle Alex. He didnt want her to stay mso it seemed like a whole lot of nonsense that even he cried crazily when Charlotte left. I didn't understand it then and I still dont understand it now. It was all complete nonsense. Alex just adored Charlotte and yet he so easily sent her away."

"Do you remember anything else about the fight?"

"Yeah yeah,"" he nodded his head. "It didnt just effect Charlotte's family, it effected mine too.. Dad shouted at Mum but she never shouted back which was weird because normally it was hard to get her to stop talking. But this time, she sat there and she said nothing. It was almost like she was guilty. She left the house soon after, taking Louise with her."

"Taking who?" I asked eagerly. There were so many things I needed to know.

"Louise, my little sister. She was only 3 then," he explained. He seemed to me a bit tired from being asked so many questions. But selfishly, I wanted to learn anything I could from him so I kept asking him questions.

"She left you and your father. Did you ever hear from her again?"

"No, never," he said, sighing again. There was something in his voice I couldn't quite catch. "We didnt want to hear from her. She left us, why should we keep loving her?"

"Your father. What was his name?"

"Nick Ryan," he said, breaking into a smile.

"Okay. Didn't he ever talk about her? Tell you good things, bad things? Anything to make you understand?" I asked desperately.

"He always said she was a bitch and I always agreed with him. But he usually didnt mean it. He always loved her. Always. But he was too much hurt to accept the fact that he loved her, you know. It was hard for him," he whispered. I watched him turn away from me as he put his right hand on his chest and puckered his face.

"Mr. Ryan, are you okay?" I asked, running over to him.

"Mmm… Mark," he forced the words out of his mouth. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed Mark.

"I'm think he's having a heart attack," I called.

"Dont worry, Anita. He's going to be alright," Mark said good-naturedly. He gave Lewis his medicine with ease.

"Are you sure?" I asked, beside myself with worry.

"Yes. Everything's alright. But you should probably just go home," he smiled, holding onto my shoulders. He shook me lightly out of my reverie. "Want a lift home?"

"No, thanks" I said. "You better stay with him"

"Okay. See you later?"

"Yeah, sure," I forced a smile and left the house quickly. I got in the car which I'd borrowed from Alex and sped off home.