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‘Argh, damn it! She dropped to the ground and clutched her pinkie toe. The stuff she’d piled on the bed slipped off and landed on her. Then she sobbed.
Sleep was impossible that night. Instead, she paced; walked a track into her floorboards. Exhausted, occasionally she curled up in the armchair, the entire house illuminated except for Ish’s room where he was safely tucked into bed, unaware of the danger, still mending his broken heart over the puppy.
She wouldn’t flee. One look at the house she’d renovated and she knew she couldn’t leave. Their life, however small, had become something here. She was enjoying it; no, she was happy here. Ish was making friends and had the space to be a little boy and was growing and developing in leaps and bounds now caring for their own hobby farm with its menagerie of animals and their vegetable patch.
Would Noah betray her?
Her heart ached remembering his searing look of disappointment, of disdain. She was gutted that he thought of her as a recalcitrant parent, the sort of parent she was sure they lambasted in their father support group.
But he didn’t understand. And if he couldn’t, there was no hope for them. She would never ever again submit to the demands of a man that were not in sync with her own beliefs. Better they work this out now, she guessed. Her hopes of a relationship shattered, splintering like broken glass. She was sure the pain would lessen, eventually.
She took his threat seriously, though, but it was probably the least of her worries. By the time Noah had located Henry, he’d know where she was. Probably had surveillance chasing her tail right now and she was about to be snared in a trap.
She dozed eventually but woke with a start. She’d heard a noise, a heavy thump like someone was on her deck. Flinging herself upwards quickly, she kinked her neck, and her legs didn’t work properly. She peered around the kitchen blinds. Nothing. The rooster was crowing, heralding a new day. A sound she’d grown to love. A sliver of golden light lined the horizon, the sun on its way. The grassy knolls wore a light layer of mist before the heat of the day set in. All around her was a picture of serenity and calm. Glorious beauty when inside her chest her heart hammered so hard, she must surely be having a heart attack. She craned her neck against the glass panelling but couldn’t see anything unusual. Tiptoeing in socked feet, she veered around the kitchen doorframe, her eyes reaching one corner of her beloved back deck, where she’d grown to enjoy sitting in the morning and evenings. Now it felt tainted, with unfettered access to her house and her safety.
There was a blur of black and movement. A figure moved across her yard, past the trampoline and towards the rear fence. Clive: his distinctive hat and gait. She released a sigh and loosened her grip on the door handle at the sight of him retreating.
Then she saw it. At the top of the staircase sat a large square cardboard box. It looked innocuous. She waited a moment, and another. Creeping without a sound, she pulled open the screen door, checked left and right and proceeded onto the deck. Peered over the edge, into the fields, checked the long drive. Watched the disappearing figure of Clive now returned to his own property, the horses neighing nearby, hoping it was breakfast time.
Ava felt a presence to her right and spun to see Daisy pad out. Ava suppressed her scream. Wherever Daisy was, the puppies were sure to follow. Ava surveyed the box and there was no address label or sender details. Turning it over revealed nothing.
Clive must have delivered the box. Why? If it was left at his place by accident, how did he know it was for her? A knot the size of a rock sat on her chest, the pressure making it difficult to breath.
If Clive delivered the box, it had to be okay, didn’t it? But why did he do it in secret? Needing answers, she ripped open the sticky tape holding the folds together. Inside, the items were bubble wrapped for protection. This piqued her interest. Lifting out the smallest item, she unwrapped it, carefully and slowly as if it might be precious. Colour dazzled through the hazy plastic revealing bright blues and golds, splashes of red.
‘Oh my…’ Ava looked up, to her left and right. It couldn’t be. It was so beautiful. And there was only one person who knew how much she would love this scarab amulet: her husband.
Small in size, the dung beetle in deep blue sat in the middle and shapes like wings spread out on each side and were multi-coloured and encased in gold-trim leading to a figure point at the top where an orange-red jewel sat like a crown. The scarab symbolised birth, life, death and resurrection.
It had to be from Henry. He had, once, listened to her, knew about her love for this particular piece of Egyptian history and the many versions in which it was emulated.
Clutching the ornament, she examined the other bulky item in the bottom of the box. It was larger, and of an odd shape. Tape held the corners of the package in place and she used her fingernail to peel away each layer to reveal a remote-control car. A present for Ish.
A wave of realisation hit her. Noah was right. She had done the wrong thing. Yes, she did what she thought was right to keep her son safe and to avoid him being raised in a strict, masculine environment against her beliefs. But it was still wrong.
She knew what she needed to do now and calm descended upon her. It was time to make amends, to make things right for their future. She was no longer prepared to be scared, to run, flinch at each noise she heard. To hide. They both deserved to be safe and live without fear. Now, she needed to act, control this situation she’d created. Henry deserved to know where his son was and that he was safe, whatever the consequences.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Noah drove through the night fuelled by anger and energy drinks. That had kept him awake during the darkest hours. That and compiling his newest poem.
Precious daughter growing strong
Only ever wanting the day to stay long
The sun rises on a new day
His desperation is for her to stay
But by the time the moon shines high in the sky
She’ll be gone, it’s always hard to say goodbye
The car windows had fogged with the dip in temperature and he used the sleeve of his shirt to clear the view. He’d been sitting in the car outside Lisa’s house for an hour now waiting to make his move.
One thing had become clear to him. Noah Hawthorn needed to take matters back into his own hands; take back control. Just like the fellas at the support group always urged. If Ava could take her son and get away with it; if Lisa could do it, he could too. If it was all about the right reasons, he had them, too. He’d come to claim what was rightfully his and restore the natural order of things.
He’d worked out the details. It might mean living in a new country town, not his beloved Bellethorpe, but it would be worth it. A fresh start for both of them. As long as he remained in the country, with its fresh air and rolling green hills, he figured he’d be all right.
