Romy's Choices

By B C Austen

Romy Wells is an accomplished thief with a gypsy soul. She comes from Perth in Western Australia and after a close encounter with the police she realises that her lifestyle cannot continue. She flees. A sympathetic trucker takes her to the eastern seaboard and helps her make a fresh start, but it doesn’t end well. An unexpected connection in Geelong sees her given the keys to an old heritage cottage in the forest, near a small town in western Victoria. Even though the locals embrace her into their midst she keeps her distance fearing she’ll be shunned because of her past. Her sister Carla is the only one she’s ever trusted, and they reunite after years apart, but she can’t help Romy with the enigma of the cottage and the meaning of the black rose. She has her own choices to make.
Living in that isolated house is an unsettling experience after Romy discovers it is haunted, but she deals with whatever is sent her way.
A tragic mystery unfolds as the past owners of the house try to communicate and everything she discovers comes into conflict with the people she gets to know. There is Hanna, her elderly cantankerous neighbour, Sheila, the church pastor, Dorian, the town doctor and Gray, the local constable. Each bring a different essence for her to unravel, but how genuine and trustworthy are they? How are they all connected to the church fire tragedy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: B C Austen
• Release date: Jul 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463817643

B C Austen

Barbara is a retired medical receptionist and a learner blogger. She is a native of Western Australian country towns, but has now joined the city rat race. Among her hobbies she has a small but fascinating collection of weird and wonderful teapots.She has been learning creative writing for a few years now and her first novel has just hit the ebook market.Her family is her life, but movies and coffee with friends are all important.

Book preview

Chapter One

PERTH, AUSTRALIA. MARCH 18, 2009.

The beautiful black Gucci de-bossed trademarked purse was still on the display stand, and to Romy Wells, it was there for the taking.

The lone shop assistant, a mature woman, had her back to the counter when Romy walked into the store. Her years as a canny shoplifter told her that this would be an easy job. The price tag showed it was new stock, and they wanted $848 for it. Doing a quick calculation she estimated that the cash she’d receive after selling it off ought to take care of the rent for the next two weeks.

Her mind flashed to the rundown flat she shared with Ed. It was a horrible place, and she yearned for something better. A new life without him.

She’d disguised herself with a brown-haired wig which made her look older than her twenty-nine years. Her bra, padded with tissues, filled out the tailored outfit she’d stolen months earlier. Her appearance wouldn’t have looked out of place at a mid week race meeting.

A voice behind her showed that a young woman had followed her in, pushing a fussy baby in a cumbersome three-wheel pram. Romy’s eyes darted round to assess this customer, and it wasn’t hard to come up with a plan. She’d walk past the pram, bump it hard enough to disturb the infant. There was a good chance that its cries would draw the attention of the shop assistant, and if her guess was right, she would come over to the pram and try to quieten the infant while the mother dug around the underneath compartment looking for its bottle.

It had the desired effect, and seconds later the Gucci bag was in Romy’s possession. She was so quick with her hands that had a fly been sitting on it, it would have been undisturbed until it found itself trapped in Romy’s large carryall. Romy’s movements were fluid, and she brazenly went back to the distraught mum and offered her apologies, but it went unheard in all the angst.

She strolled out, pleased with her bounty, only this time she’d made a tiny mistake. Her smugness was interrupted as she went through the doors, setting off the security alarms, which she’d overlooked. She heard the words ‘Hey, you. Bring that back,’ as she took off, her small frame enabling her to sprint away from the scene. She could always rely on her athleticism. By the time the assistant had off loaded the baby back to its mother she had gone, thanks to her foresight of having scouted the area and checked out all the escape routes.

The fear of being caught was foremost in Romy’s mind, but the heady feeling of excitement when she’d grabbed the beautiful purse surged through her body, even after she’d found a park bench to rest on.

As she sucked in her breath, her hand went into the bag to feel the softness of the black suede leather. She felt proud of her achievement after reminding herself how much the purse was worth. Her fingers also found the pearl bracelet she’d taken from another department store an hour earlier, and again she had to smile at her boldness.

Romy’s was an expert in her career as a thief, but it was dangerous, and it would only take one slip-up for it to come crashing down. Today’s venture had been sloppy for not noting the security on the way out.

She was four blocks away by now and this distance had given her the luxury of resting until her breathing eased. The next task was to get changed and the nearby clothing collection bins were perfect for shielding her from anyone passing by. Crouching behind them she removed her disguise, donned a plain coloured t-shirt, tied a scarf round her neck, then wound her long fair-ish hair up into a bun. The ends had become frayed and knotty and could have been done with a trim weeks ago, but she hadn’t got round to it.

Despite the successful outcome, the stress of the theft had kicked off another episode of hyperventilation, which Romy found distressing. To overcome it, she pursed her lips and took in a deep breath until her chest stopped pounding. It was soon under control and she felt normal again. Her struggle with breathing was a new habit which was a worry, and she hoped it wasn’t a thing that would get worse and become a hindrance. Her ears continued to strain for any approaching activity and satisfied she had given everyone the slip she made her way back to mingle amongst the shoppers on the main street.

It was Wednesday, early afternoon, and most people had eaten, or were thinking of eating somewhere. The majority appeared to be office workers coming from or going to lunch. Experience told her the best time to nick something was when there was the most inattention in the store. Walking past a gift shop she paused, fighting the temptation to have another go.

Romy used to wonder if she had descended from the gypsies since she’d found it so easy to pilfer. She often thought the problem came from her name, having that similarity to the Romany, a gypsy language. How much of that was in her DNA? She wished there was some way to find out, but with no family.....

Shoplifting gave her a buzz, and her instincts and intuition were always sharp, but she needed to pay heed to them.

So far she had stayed ahead of law enforcement, but since teaming up with Ed Winterhausen she no longer felt safe. He was bad luck. He attracted it with his stupidity and recklessness. Two weeks ago he’d came across an unattended Lexus and drove it away. She didn’t like his new boldness and wondered why he wanted to draw attention to himself?

Romy made her way towards the bus station at the end of the main thoroughfare. She ducked inside to make use of the facilities and to put her ill-gotten gains into a locker. Ed was supposed to meet her there on the hour after he’d grabbed the watch he’d had his eye on for the past week. It always filled her with dread whenever he was on a mission and she made sure she didn’t go with him, because compared to her skills he was a no-hoper. His style was rough. Snatch and run was his method, and she hated how he thought he was so clever. She felt it was only a matter of time before he’d get caught. She was coming close to parting ways with him. Despite Ed’s rough upbringing he was good-looking in a rakish way. He had a nice bod, was a sharp dresser, and he knew what to do in bed, but that was all he had to wow her with.

She left the bus station, grabbed a cup of cheap coffee from the Hungry Jack’s outlet next door and hung around to wait there for Ed. He was often running later than their agreed meeting times but that morning she’d noticed he was more nervous or distracted than usual. It was a worry that he was taking on more jobs than either of them could handle and being secretive at the same time. She’d suspected that he was working for someone else or was trying to impress a new female friend.

She checked her watch as she was about to drink the last of her coffee and saw he should have already joined her. A bad feeling was building in her gut, and after waiting another five minutes she left, retrieved her goods from the locker and made her way back towards the shopping centre she’d just come from.

She paused near a bench and shifted her carryall onto her other shoulder. Where was that damn Ed? He had to be here somewhere, but her gut told her it was too risky to hang around any longer. Chances were that the store owner had already reported the stolen purse to the police and had given them a description of her, and there was another thing she’d forgotten about - the security vision from the store.

After another two minutes had passed, she moved away from the shopping centre to the next block, still looking around to see if she could spot him. A commotion going on across the street further along drew her attention, and that’s where she saw him, and he was in dire straights. The police had him in handcuffs and were bundling him into the back of a paddy-wagon.

With her breathing becoming ragged again Romy edged her way inside the deli behind her and watched the proceedings through the store window. When another police wagon arrived and double parked alongside the other one she knew it was best not to stay around. Ed was known to them and they would suspect that he wasn’t alone.

She should have changed her disguise again as a precaution, but had forgotten to include the short-haired blond wig in her getaway arsenal that morning; but there was no point in worrying about that right now. She had to make herself scarce, and that meant putting her emergency escape plans into action. It meant going bush for a couple of weeks, or better still the wisest solution was to re-emerge in a new state with a new persona. To her credit she had never been caught or arrested, so there were no mugshots on file, but this disastrous association with Ed had taught her never to depend on anyone else. He had almost dragged her down with his carelessness, and even now, she couldn’t trust him not to give her up if he was looking for a deal from the police.

❊ ❊ ❊

Romy’s older sister, Carla, was the only person who knew what she engaged in.

The sisters were aged ten and nine when leukaemia took their mother, and as there was no father in their lives they were left in the care of Grandma Moira, but that didn’t pan out so well for the girls. Moira was a young grandmother who was a barmaid. She worked odd hours, lived the high life and made it quite clear she would not be their cook and bottle washer. This was when their light fingers began their work. They would steal food from the supermarkets, but due to their youth and inexperience it had happened once too often, resulting in being removed from Grandma Moira after a year and placed in foster care. Carla, had gone to a christian household and had never stolen another thing, but Romy couldn’t help herself. Her foster homes weren’t as stable as Carla’s. She ran away from the first one because of mental abuse and bible bashing and each following placement was just as disastrous. None were nurturing or even had her feeling they wanted her.

Stealing became an addiction for Romy. Getting nice things comforted her and gave her a joyous experience, because there was nothing else that comforted her. No-one ever smiled at her, or gave her hugs and kisses. She couldn’t get close to anyone because they were soon gone. She couldn’t remember her mother’s face anymore, but she could picture a woman with wispy blond hair and large sunglasses and the fresh smell of her rose scented soap. She still loved roses. On the other hand, memories of Grandma Moira rarely came to her.

Following each stealing mission she became more aware of what worked and what didn’t. Most expeditions were planned with care and if it didn’t feel right, she knew to pull back from it, but mistakes were still made, as today’s effort proved.

It wasn’t long after she turned seventeen that she was back living with Grandma Moira, but the relationship between the two was still fraught with problems. They clashed and fought, spending long periods without speaking to each other. Looking back she had Moira tagged as a narcissist.

One day when Romy was coming home from shopping she came across a duffle bag secreted in bushes along the railway track that she used as a shortcut. Someone had pushed it under a rusted car body, but she knew this bag hadn’t been there earlier that morning when she’d come that way. After staring at it for some minutes she pulled it out and had a look inside. It contained a checked jacket with a front zipper. It wasn’t old, but smelled of male sweat. In one pocket she found a packet of cigarettes and in the other was a roll of twenty dollar notes totalling two hundred dollars, but the thing that shocked her was the loaded gun that was in the bottom of the bag.

She knew it was stupid, and should have handed it into the police, but she took the gun and the money and ran. Fearful that someone had seen her she deviated away from her intended route and then called into as many shops and alleys as she could cover in twenty minutes. Back in her room she hid her bounty under the mattress. The money was soon spent, but she kept the gun. She loved how comfortable it was to hold. It would be easy to carry around for safety. She guessed it to be a 9mm Glock after seeing a similar one on a television documentary.

Six more years passed. Grandma Moira was now unwell and unable to work anymore, a legacy of the substance abuse she’d bestowed on her body over the years. Rather than be hospitalised she begged Romy to stay and care for her, and despite some misgivings Romy agreed, only because she needed the accommodation. Her terms were that she would only make meals and keep the house clean. That was where she drew the line, because Moira had long ago given up her rights to anything more than that. Romy resented her for the years she’d spent in foster care, thanks to her uncaring and selfish ways.

It was about that time that she’d reconnected with Carla, who wanted nothing to do with Moira. She deserved all she got as far as Carla was concerned.

The sisters had different outlooks on life. Carla had found work as a horticulturist and was often away for long periods on assignments in the national parks, studying regeneration of the forests. Romy had little inclination to find a job. She hated the thought of being cooped up in a shop or anywhere that required her to take orders, or to be indoors, so she didn’t last long in any workplace.

Moira had died by the time Romy turned twenty-four and she was now struggling to pay the rent. Her social security payments barely made ends meet. Her thieving habits had supplemented the times when she needed something extra, but after they arrested her fence everything came to a full stop. She was forced to find work, which came in the form of a two-year stint as a cleaning maid at one of the major hospitals. This move proved to be a goldmine. She befriended the patients who lived alone, found out their home addresses, and if the mood took her she would visit those places and help herself to the occasional item which ranged from jewellery pieces, sometimes a pair of shoes or nice clothes, or money, if it wasn’t locked away. She was an opportunist, all the while improving her skills. It was all going well until Ed came on the scene and she was swayed by his hot looks and his grandiose plans of how they would be rich, although she had mixed feelings when she found out he was also a crook.

They’d met when he’d saved her from being assaulted by three louts whilst she was outside a pub one night having a casual smoke. Afterwards he’d walked her home and the next day came visiting with flowers. She discovered he was ten years older but was swayed by his romantic gestures and had let her guard down. No-one had ever shown her such kindness or had become attracted to her, and he had a devilish way about him that made her feel special. She moved into his flat in Merlin Street, which was in a rundown neighbourhood alongside the railway line.

At first she looked on him as a friend and protector, but she soon discovered he was all talk and not the slightest interested in her welfare. He’d found himself a housekeeper, and she found herself again in the same situation as she was with Moira. On the one hand there was something devilish about him that she liked, but on the other if his selfish traits weren’t so unbearable she could have stayed living with him.

He was a modern day Fagin. He expected her to accompany him on his crime sprees in exchange for his favours, but he was reckless and the warning signs that this relationship was doomed wouldn’t go away. She wondered if he was preparing to dump her, as he’d started stealing expensive men’s clothing and trying out new hair styles. It was for convenience that she stayed but she didn’t need an idiot for protection anymore.

Chapter Two

It had been a disastrous and exhaustive day and as Romy made her way back to the flat, she reflected on it. The shock of Ed’s capture and its likely repercussions had rattled her. His arrest was a wake up call and it made her see that she’d arrived at the inevitable crossroads that her lifestyle had driven her to.

As she turned into Merlin Street she was surprised, but not shocked that a police van was already parked outside the flat. She was too late. Their searching would lead them to her now, and soon her photo would appear in the paper and the internet. She would now be a person of interest and it was time to make herself scarce. Her plan to hide in another state had to swing into action. Heading east across the Nullarbor would be the safest option. Once there she figured it would be easier to lose herself, but for now, Romy needed to get inside that flat to retrieve the backpack of essentials she’d stowed in the ceiling loft, but she feared that the police would find it before she could. She backtracked until she came to the abandoned house in the next block where she could hide and get some sleep. She still had the purse and bracelet that she could pawn interstate for some cash.

Before the sun rose she snuck back into the flat. To her joy she found that the police hadn’t discovered her backpack or the unlicensed gun she’d kept all these years. At least Ed hadn’t found it and taken it. She pushed it into her boot after she’d pulled everything down, then grabbed as much food as she could carry. Ducking into the bathroom to use the toilet, she did a quick check of her appearance and decided some changes were needed. Armed with a pair of scissors, she cut her hair so that it was just above shoulder length, removed the nose ring that Ed had given her for her last birthday and then fled.

In the semi darkness Romy headed for the train station, bracing against the chill in the air. The commuters en route to their workplaces were gathering like a herd of sheep on the platform and she mingled amongst them until the train pulled in. The crowd jostled their way into the carriages as soon as the doors slid open. Romy got in the last carriage and found there were plenty of empty seats. The train was travelling eastwards, all the way to Midland, the end of the line for the passenger service. After a while the clacking of the wheels became background noise, and through her head went a flurry of ideas of what the future could hold. Because she was venturing into the unknown it was a mixture of dread and excitement, not knowing if the law was about to catch up with her. She pulled herself back into reality when the tannoy voiceover reminded all the passengers that the train had come to the end of the line and everyone was to disembark.

Approaching the exit to the train station, she paused at an information stand and found a tourist map showing the roads which lead out of Midland. She sat on a nearby bench and studied it, looking if she could find a truck stop where she could cadge a lift. Northam was her destination, but alas, the map showed nothing that was helpful, such as petrol stations, and the towns were too far apart; but it was vital she kept on the move. Her best bet was to see if she could thumb a lift once she was out on the open road, but for now she had to make up ground on foot. She had one last check of her backpack to test if she could sustain the weight and decided it wasn’t too heavy. It was too early to start off-loading anything from it, anyway. She set off, feeling fortunate that she’d not encountered any drunks or trouble makers lurking around at the train station.

By lunch time she’d come to the outskirts of the Midland Shire. Ahead of her were open fields and a wide expanse of bushland vegetation further along. Heading eastwards, Romy followed the walking paths until the houses became fewer, then she passed through orchards, market gardens and later sheep farms.

Towards the end of that first day weariness and sore feet was her main enemy, and it was time to thumb a lift. She flagged down an old farm truck, pulling a trailer laden with pigs. The driver had just left the sale yards and was going home to his farm, about forty-five kilometres eastwards. He dropped her off at his gate and informed her she was about twenty-one kilometres from Northam. As she alighted from the vehicle a police car sped by, followed by a second one, reminding her that perhaps walking alongside the road wasn’t a sensible decision, but if she was to find a lift to the eastern states she would have to continue following the Great Eastern Highway. Her best bet was to use the vehicle lanes that the farmers used but that would impact on her ability to get another lift. She estimated that on foot it would take her a full day to find a service station that sold food, and where she might get an interstate lift with a trucker. A risky prospect, but no worse than living like a vagrant and hiding from the police.

The next few hours was a tough slog for Romy. With her feet hurting and darkness approaching exhaustion overtook her and left her in desperate need of sleep. A fallen tree trunk came into view and with a sigh of appreciation she sat down and ate the last of her perishable food. In dire need of sleep she broke several branches and twigs off a nearby shrub and fashioned a bed on the ground