Shadow Lily

  Through the rear vision mirror, I had a perfect view of Wade and Jasmine cleaning the front windows. Lincoln and Cheynie were running amok, chasing each other along the footpath with buckets on their heads, and little Lachlan sat in his pram chewing on a sponge.

  “Probably not the best chew toy for a baby,” I said, thinking out loud.

  Lily twisted the knob on her door, angling the side mirror to get a better view. “I’ve seen him eat worse,” she muttered.

  “Maybe they haven’t seen us,” I said hopefully.

  “We’re hardly incognito, Charli.” Lily flapped her hands around. “If you ever decide to take up robbing banks, don’t do it in this car.”

  I let out a soft giggle. “Just so you know, I didn’t choose this wanky car.”

  “And just so you know,” she retorted, “this car has wanker written all over it.”

  We were both giggling now, but there was nothing funny about the situation. Already half way across the street, Jasmine was closing in on us, which was a sure-fire sign that things were about to get ugly.

  A few seconds later, she tapped on the passenger side window. In a less than generous move, Lily wound it down half way.

  “This is the important business you had to take care of today?” snapped Jasmine.

  “Pretty much,” replied Lily.

  Jasmine glowered at me. “And why are you here?” she asked. “You don’t even like Lily.”

  I bit back quickly. “Don’t tell me who I like.”

  She turned her attention back to her sister, adopting a calm tone that was faker than her hair colour. “We could really use your help at the salon, Lil,” she said sweetly. “Just cleaning windows and stuff.”

  It was a fascinating display. I’d seen Jasmine’s jealous streak surface a million times, but it never involved her sister. I sat in stunned silence as she tried to woo Lily back.

  “I can’t, Jasmine.” Her tone was quiet but strong. “I’m busy.”

  I couldn’t believe that Jasmine’s sucking lemon expression was intentional. From what I could tell, she was doing her level best not to explode.

  “Another time then,” she said, forcing a smile.

  Lily got out of the car, and I followed suit. Without saying another word, we headed into the hardware store. It would’ve been a clean getaway, if not for the fact that Jasmine followed us inside.

  Lily spun around. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “Following us?”

  “Hardly,” she replied, looking outraged. “I need some more cleaning supplies.”

  “What do you need, love?” asked Norm, appearing out of nowhere.

  Jasmine didn’t miss a beat. “Window cleaner,” she replied. “And some sponges, please. Lachlan chewed the other ones.”

  Norm let out a loud guffaw that didn’t stop until he reached the end of the aisle. When he returned a minute later, he handed Jasmine the goods she’d asked for. That should’ve been her cue to leave, but predictably, she didn’t budge.

  “Was there something else?” Norm asked, frowning at her.

  “No, that’s it,” she replied, setting her wares down on the counter.

  Clearly baffled, he turned to me. “How about you, Charli?”

  I took the list out of my pocket and read it out loud. “Nine feet by twelve feet white drop sheets – four of them, please.”

  “Not the plastic ones,” interjected Lily. “We need canvas ones.”

  “Are you sure?” Norm asked me. “Adam always get the plastic ones.”

  “They’re not for Adam,” I replied. “They’re for us.”

  Even before I looked at her, I knew that Jasmine was in a bad way. Curiosity and an acute lack of information had just about done her in.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  Knowing full well that there was nothing else written on it, I looked at the list in my hand. “Yes,” I replied, thinking on my feet. “A five-metre extension lead, a sixty-watt light globe and some screws.”

  Norm’s frown intensified. “What sort of screws?”

  I’d always maintained that I spent too much time in Adam’s shed, and the next words out of my mouth proved it. “Countersunk rib head screws,” I rambled.

  Lily looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, but as soon as she leaned across and read the list in my hand, her whole expression changed. There was a game in play, and now she knew it.

  Norm disappeared to get our unwanted goodies, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Jasmine pounced.

  “What the hell are you up to?” She grabbed Lily by the arm and pulled her close to her side.

  For some reason, I was fighting the urge to pull her back.

  “It’s nothing to do with you, Jasmine,” she spat. “My business is my business.”

  “Well, what’s it got to do with Charli?” Totally frustrated, she slapped both hands on her sides. “You hate each other.”

  I was eager to hear her reply, but it never came. Norm returned, holding up two packets of screws. “Seventy-five or a hundred millimetres?” he asked.

  Lily’s eyes never left Jasmine. “Both, please,” she replied. “I’m building something huge.”

  7. GAELIC BLOOD

  Lily

  A smarter girl probably would’ve researched who lived at number nine Swift Street before agreeing to a meeting there at dusk. But I wasn’t renowned for being smart. As soon as I pulled up in front of the house, I recognised it in an instant.

  Using nothing more than the power of his brooding good looks and wandering hands, the city slicker vet had lured me to crazy Edna Wilson’s house.

  To anyone who grew up in the Cove, Edna was the scariest lady in existence. Some thought she was a witch, and others claimed she was psychic, but in my opinion, she was just a crazy old woman who got a kick out of scaring small children.

  Surprisingly, her run down old house didn’t seem quite so menacing at night. The lights were on, casting a yellow glow that almost made the place seem inviting.

  The string of fairy lights draped around the dead oak tree in the front yard was a nice touch too, but on the off chance it was a signal beacon for demons I locked my doors and opted to stay in the car until Noah arrived.

  Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting long, pulling in behind me just a few minutes later.

  As I walked the short distance to his car, the driver’s side door swung open.

  “You made it.” He reached into the backseat and grabbed his bag. “I was worried you might get lost.”

  “I nearly did,” I joked. “Navigating all the streets in this town requires talent.”

  Noah got out of the car and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. It was polite, short and gave no hint of the familiarity between us. The whispered comment that came next wasn’t so innocent. “I have it on good authority that you’re very talented.”

  I took a step back and cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together and calm my thumping heart. Noah didn’t seem to need any recovery time at all.

  “Ready?” he asked, looking up at the house.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked.

  He glanced at me, his green eyes shining in the glow of the street light. “No,” he replied. “I don’t usually make house calls.”

  “Well this one will be a doozy,” I warned. “An old witch lives here.”

  He huffed out a sharp laugh. “Edna’s not a witch,” he insisted. “She’s just eccentric and odd. She’s also forgetful, which is why I’m here.”

  As we fought our way past the weeds growing through the garden path, Noah explained why he was making an exception to his no-house-call rule.

  “She’s missed her last two appointments with me,” he said, stopping dead at the edge of the steps.

  His trepidation was warranted. The decking surrounding the house was a death-trap. Noah took my hand, leading me through the maze of holes and missing planks.

  “I’m very worried about her dog,” he continued.

  “Why???
? I asked.

  Noah thumped loudly on the ancient front door. “Because she’s a wiry old drunk.”

  I was sure he had his information wrong. I’d heard a million stories about crazy Edna in my time, but none of them involved booze. “Edna’s an alcoholic?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows. “Her bulldog is.”

  If I could’ve mustered words, it would’ve been too late to say them. The door swung open, and I came face-to-face with the stuff of nightmares.

  “Hello, Mrs Wilson,” Noah greeted. “I thought I’d stop by and visit Patty.”

  His cheery tone beggared belief. The old woman stared him down as if he’d just woken her from a hundred-year sleep – and the long white nightgown she wore led me to think that scenario wasn’t entirely unrealistic.

  She pushed her frizzy grey hair away from her eyes. “She’s sleeping,” she replied. “Come back tomorrow.”

  Noah wedged his foot in the way of the closing door. “Mrs Wilson, have you met my friend, Lily?”

  For the first time ever, I wanted to punch the city vet in the mouth.

  “No,” she replied, opening the door wide. “Introduce me to her.”

  I no longer thought she was just peculiar and crazy. Edna looked like a witch, and Edna spoke like a witch. Therefore, in my mind, she was a witch.

  Noah didn’t seem to share my opinion. He grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, thrusting me into her line of fire. Despite my terror, I managed to find my manners. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Wilson.”

  Her bony fingers wrapped around my hand, which was almost as disturbing as the look on her face. “Come inside and have a cup of tea,” she urged, staring into my eyes. “You can share your gifts with me, and I’ll return the favour.”

  I was too scared to ask what that meant, and Noah was more interested in finding the boozed up bulldog. As we followed Edna down the long hallway, he paused at each doorway we passed to look for her.

  “Patricia isn’t accepting visitors,” she told him, without looking back. “You’ll have to see her another time.”

  “I’m just here to check on her.” Noah’s tone was still friendly, but there was an authoritative edge to it now. “She missed her last few appointments with me.”

  Ignoring him, Edna showed us into the kitchen, pointed at the shabby Formica dining suite and ordered us both to sit. “I’ll make us some tea.”

  While we sat in silence, Edna fussed at the stove. I used the time to check out the room. Apart from the peeling paint and archaic whitegoods, it was just a regular kitchen – no cauldrons or lingering smell of boiling bones. The only thing out of place was the faint sound of snoring coming from somewhere behind us.

  I turned around and saw nothing, but Noah wasn’t fooled for a second. He traced the muffled sound to a laundry basket in the corner of the room. Without asking permission, he tossed a few layers of clothes aside and came face-to-face with Patricia the drunk French Bulldog.

  “How much has she had to drink, Edna?” he asked crossly.

  I wasn’t sure how he could tell that she was sauced just by looking at her. She wasn’t the prettiest dog I’d ever seen, which led me to think her drunk face was probably similar to her sober one.

  “I’ve told you before,” she replied. “She has a small tipple of brandy at night with her milk. The nights are cold, Noah.”

  He lifted the dazed dog out of the basket and tried to get her stand, catching her each time she stumbled. “I’ve told you before, Mrs Wilson, ethanol poisoning is very serious in dogs,” he chided. “You have to trust me on this.”

  “I do,” replied Edna, setting a pot of tea down on the table. “That’s why I’ve cut her down to one drink before bed. It warms her guts up.”

  After checking Patty over, he tucked her back into the laundry basket, presumably to sleep it off. “I have a better idea,” he said, joining us at the table. “Lily is a pet couturier. She could design Patty a winter outfit to keep her warm. Then you could cut out the bedtime brandy.”

  Edna narrowed her eyes. “What sort of outfit?”

  Still marvelling at the title of pet couturier, I struggled to answer her. “Anything you like.”

  The old lady picked up the teapot and poured all three cups of tea while she thought it through. “Patricia hails from the Highlands,” she said finally. “She has Gaelic blood.”

  “She’s Scottish?” asked Noah, trying not to smile.

  “Perhaps not in this life,” she conceded. “But originally.”

  I couldn’t do anything about Patty’s past lives, but I could try preserving her current one a little longer. I took my notepad out of my bag and went to work, sketching a very rough picture of a Scottish French Bulldog wearing a thick tartan coat. In keeping with her dubious Gaelic heritage, I added a tartan cap and threw in a pom-pom for good measure.

  “How about something like this?” I asked, sliding the sketchpad across the table. “Do you think this would suit her?”

  A huge smile swept Edna’s face as she studied the picture in front of her. “A true Highland lass,” she announced with reverence. “Patricia would be proud to wear this.”

  “Great,” quipped Noah. “It’ll be my gift to you, but you have to promise me something.”

  “Perhaps,” said Edna staring at him through narrowed eyes. “Name your terms.”

  I already knew what they were, and realistically, she did too. Patty had to lay off the brandy and get sober. To me, it was a no-brainer, but Edna took time to deliberate. Finally, she dropped the sketchpad down on the table. “Fine,” she agreed. “Measure her up, Lily. I want it tailored to perfection.”

  I learned something that night. When a dog is passed out drunk, taking its measurements is a breeze. While I sat at the table and wrote them down, Noah checked Patty over for the second time.

  Edna’s focus was solely on me. “This is your gift,” she said, pointing at the notebook. “Making lovely things for man’s best friends.”

  I nervously twirled my pencil between my fingers. “I guess so.”

  “You have to choose the fabric carefully,” she continued. “Then put it all together.”

  I had no idea why she saw fit to give me instructions but found myself agreeing with her anyway.

  “Then you cut off the useless frayed edges,” she continued, lowering her tone as she leaned closer to me. “They contribute nothing to the finished product.”

  I shook my head. “No, they don’t.”

  “You have no use for straggly edges, Lily.” she explained. “Do you understand?”

  I did understand, which could only mean one of two things: I was as cracked as she was, or Crazy Edna’s psychic abilities weren’t a crock after all.

  “You’re talking about my mum and my sister?” I asked, desperately seeking clarification.

  She put a shaky hand on my cheek. “Brutum fulmen,” she whispered.

  “What does that mean, Mrs Wilson?”

  A normal person would’ve answered me, but Edna was far from normal. Instead, she stood up, carried the empty pot of tea to the sink and told us we had to leave.

  ***

  In a perfect world, my first ever visit to crazy Edna’s would’ve been an enlightening experience. All of the mystery shrouding the strange old woman would’ve been cleared up with logical explanations and an apology from me for being so judgmental. Evidently, the world wasn’t perfect because I walked out of the house feeling more confused than ever.

  Noah hung back at the door, laying down the law to Edna. “No more booze,” he demanded. “And I want to see Patty next week.”

  “You can see her any time you want to,” she replied. “Just make sure you bring her Highland coat with you.”

  Probably resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to win, he called it quits. “Goodnight, Mrs Wilson.”

  I heard the door close and by the time I reached my car, Noah was right behind me. He looped his arm around my waist from
behind and pulled me back against his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered against the side of my neck.

  “For what?”

  “For being amazing,” he replied. “And now I owe you dinner and a movie.”

  I twisted in his arms, needing to see his face when I broke the news that the whole world was closed for business. “It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday night,” I reminded him. “You’ll have to settle for two-minute noodles and Netflix.”

  Smiling wryly, he slowly shook his head. “We can do better than that, surely,” he said. “Perhaps not a movie, but dinner is doable.”

  I looked from left to right, emphasising the fact that the street was deserted. “Not here.”

  He leaned, murmuring his next words against my mouth. “Ten bucks says you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t have ten bucks.” I felt his smile against my lips. “I’m broke – totally down and out.”

  “I’m not an unreasonable man,” he murmured. “I’ll let you pay your debts in kind.”

  It was bet he was never going to win, but an impossible offer to refuse nonetheless. Without a moment of hesitation, I left my beaten up Audi parked on the street outside Edna’s house and hitched a ride with the gorgeous but deluded city vet.

  ***

  Once you drive beyond the outskirts of town, it’s easy to make believe that you’re a million miles away. I had no idea where we were heading, but it really didn’t matter. The night was cool, the weather was fine, and the company was good.

  Noah didn’t seem to know where we were going either. Once he pulled onto the highway, he stayed there, and before long, we were a million miles from home. The conversation was light, and most of it centred around the strange evening we’d had so far.

  “I’ll try and get Patty’s coat done tomorrow,” I offered. “The sooner the better, right?”

  “Don’t stress about it too much.” Noah glanced across at me and smiled. “Patty has been on the turps for years. I think she’s quite tolerant to her bedtime brandy so a few more days won’t make much difference.”

  “Poor thing,” I mumbled.

  He reached, slipping his hand under the fall of my hair as he gently rubbed my neck. “I’m keeping a close eye on her, Lil,” he assured me. “She’ll be fine.”