A Pathway of Adversity
Chapter 45
"Colleen has done some stupid things in the past, but hell, Alf Stewart! This takes the biscuit! And you believed her?" Morag asked incredulously.
Alf looked sheepish. He'd asked himself on so many occasions since the enlightening conversation with Colleen, why?
"Morag! I don't know. Perhaps I was so unwell at the time that I didn't know what I was doing."
Morag frowned at her brother.
"Alf Stewart. You are no fool. What the hell did Colleen say which made you believe that Joey Collins murdered Irene Roberts?"
She run her fingers through her hair; exasperated.
"Don't be hard on me, love. I know I was an idiot. But she kept rambling on about something Irene had told her and then about a letter she'd got that Irene had written. I know I shouldn't have listened to her ramblings and gone with my original instinct."
"And pray, what might that have been?" Morag asked patiently; her piercing deep-set eyes burning into her brother's.
Alf sighed.
"In truth love, I thought that maybe Hugo was up to something."
"Oh! What a surprise! You always give the impression that the sun shines out of Mr. Austen's proverbial! Perhaps I don't give you enough credit, Alf Stewart!" Morag smirked.
"Don't get me wrong! Hugo is a bloody good bloke! He's got an acute business sense and I do believe that the business will be in safe hands when I've gone. He gets led into some dodgy deals sometimes and he's rough around the edges, but nothing that Martha can't smooth out!" He winked confidently.
"Alf! You give that granddaughter of yours far too much credit. She's indolent and at times, very stupid. She hangs on to Hugo as if he is her last chance! The guy is a tool, Alf! He tolerates Martha because of her inheritance. Get wise to him! Besides, if he's such 'a bloody good bloke' as you say, why did you think he was up to no good?"
Joey put down the paperback with a sigh. Glancing at her watch, she realised it was only fourteen minutes since last she checked. She felt restricted and bored. The sun outside was warm and inviting and feeling a sudden inclination to sunbathe, jumped up. Charlie had warned her not to step foot outside the house, but would it really matter? Would anyone be looking for her all the way out here? Charlie said this house was safe and her earlier trepidation had subsided into a mere nothing, so what was the harm?
Charlie Buckton arrived back in Summer Bay, tired and out of spirits. Angelo had taken the news of her apparent change in sexual preference, badly. He was hurt, confused and had hardly given Charlie a chance to explain. But what was there to explain? Surely it was her business what she did and whom she loved? She and Angelo no longer shared their lives but she'd hoped they might enjoy some sort of friendship. But now, Angelo seemed to be plotting Joey Collins' demise as vengeance against Charlie, promising retribution and reprisal. It had been a long, tiring journey from Sydney and now, she just wanted to rest. She peeled off her clothes and tossed them carelessly onto the bedroom chair before crawling onto the bed. The sun shone mercilessly through the window as she closed her eyes. Her body was too weary to get up to close the blind, so she tossed and turned in the midday heat. The conversation she'd lately shared with Angelo played back in her mind. He'd spoken about their pathways having divided, making her feel guilty and responsible, but what had he expected? She could no longer tread Angelo's pathway, so full of difficulty and sorrow. Angelo had made it this way, putting his career first and sparing little thought for her or anyone. Whereas, her life with Joey, though emotional at times, was filled with passion and depth, and since walking alongside Joey's pathway, it had led her to a place where inner peace enveloped her soul. As turbulent as Joey's life was just now, Charlie was glad to be a part of it.
Joey laid a blanket on the grass just outside the back entrance to the house. The garden was nothing much – mostly scrub. No loving hand of a gardener to soften and love the land into a paradise. The birds chirped in the surrounding trees and crickets clicked their song in the undergrowth. Soon Joey was laying on the blanket; her clothes discarded and her gloomy thoughts castoff for a while. Before long, her mind had shifted sideways and she snoozed gently, oblivious to everything and everybody.
"And where the hell is she now?" Morag wanted to know, looking enquiringly at her brother.
"Flamin' hell, woman! Damned if I know!" Alf replied. "You might try the firm?"
"You make it sound rather 'mob-esque'." Morag observed wryly. "Mind you, considering the circumstances, I wonder just how near the truth this is!"
"Hold on, love! You could hardly refer to the 'S.B.F & C' as having mafia tendencies!" Alf protested.
"Well, your employees are certainly making it look this way, Alf! Hugo Austen – in for questioning with the Police, Joey Collins – missing, presumed on the run, Irene Roberts – brutally murdered… shall I go on?"
"S'truth! Have a heart, Morag! These are a set of circumstances – purely coincidental!"
"Really? You surprise me. Anyway, let's seek out our deranged sister. I think we need to pull her off the streets before she does any more damage!"
Joey briefly woke from her slumber and smiled as the warm sun kissed her skin. She could feel it's heat relaxing her tense body. The garden hadn't recently been tended, but the grass, though a little long where she lay, was soft and smelt fresh. Overhead, a seagull lazily circled, enjoying the warm thermals. Another, and then another joined in and Joey was envious of their freedom. A heaviness over-came her eyelids once more and slowly closing them, shut out the seagulls, shut out her worries and shut out life. For the first time in many days, her sleep was peaceful and her mind rested of all the vile things which had happened of late.
Another watched as Joey lay resting; his eyes taking in her well-disciplined body now relaxing in the sunshine. He noted that a side door had been carelessly left ajar into the garden, the window carelessly left wide open at the front of the house and of the radio playing loudly inside.
A mobile phone in Sergeant Charlie Buckton's trouser pocket, began to ring frantically, or so it seemed to the sleeping Police officer. Charlie moaned as she moved her reluctant limbs, cursing whoever was making the call.
"F'crying out loud! Why can't they just leave me alone for five minutes?!" She exclaimed loudly.
She stumbled out of bed and staggered blindly to the chair where her phone was, and catching her little toe on the corner of the bed-leg, cursed the agonising pain which throbbed through her foot.
"Buckton here." She gasped, rubbing her red toe.
Charlie listened to the other voice for a few moments before her eyelids pinged open in astonishment.
"What the hell do you think you can achieve by bad-mouthing Joey Collins' name all over town, Colleen?" Morag wanted to know.
"I don't think it's any of your business what I do!" The older woman screamed back in defence. "What gives you the right to come round here and tell me what to do? And you, Alf Stewart, are s'pose to be resting!"
"I would be if it wasn't for you going 'round town, spreading all sorts of nasty rumours instead of minding your own flamin' business!" Alf retorted.
"Now let's just calm down, all of us." Morag suggested, mindful of Alf's condition. "Screaming at each other won't solve this issue."
"There is no issue!" Colleen insisted. "What I did was done for the sake of the Summerbay community. They have a right to know about that young woman and her evil ways."
"It's slander, Colleen, and you know it!" Alf cried, pointing his finger.
"It's the truth!" Colleen continued undeterred.
"You're a stupid, unhinged old bat!" Alf yelled.
"That's enough!" Morag snapped. "Alf, go and sit in the garden and cool off! I want to speak to Colleen alone for a moment."
"Why? What do you need to speak to me about?" Colleen asked incredulously. "I've done nothing wrong!"
"Well, let's just say, I need to ask you to clarify some things." Morag replied, trying to pacify her older sibling.
"Like what?" Colleen asked suspiciously.
"Well…"
Morag rose from where she was sitting and walked across to a vase of roses on the highly polished table. She stooped slightly to smell the perfumed buds.
"You are the only person I know, Colleen, who can grow such beautiful roses." Morag said, turning to smile at her sister. You certainly take after Mother for this."
"Oh well… That's coz I have green fingers, just like her!" Colleen replied proudly. "Mind you, it took a lot of time and patience to come up with prize winners like these! You ask anyone at the Rose Society!" She advised, joining her lawyer sister at the table. "It takes many hours of love and devotion to produce these little gems. I lecture at the Society, too!" She grinned proudly. "And I'm always helping people with their gardens; recommending how to get the best from their blooms and such."
"In which case, I'm very surprised that after devoting so many hours to your garden and being an invaluable help to members of the Rose Society, working at Alf's company and making soup for the sick and needy of Summerbay, you have any time left to run about town, maligning people!" Morag pointed out grimly. "Do you know just how much trouble you can get into by doing this?"