Duplicity

By Maralyn Frances

When Toby Wendell reluctantly offers a lift to a young woman he finds walking along a deserted country road at twilight, he has no idea who she is, how she got there or why she won’t speak to him.

He finally offers her his spare room for the night, only to find that she resists all his efforts to persuade her to leave the next day.

Why is she so determined to stay with him and what does she want?

The answers will unlock a past that Toby has desperately tried to bury.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maralyn Frances
• Release date: Sep 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648673323

Maralyn Frances

As a little girl, Maralyn's favourite book was her dictionary. She was fascinated by word meanings and derivations, and her classmates teased her for using 'big' words. After gaining a Masters Degree in Old and Medieval English, she taught - what else?- English as a Foreign Language to adult migrants and refugees. Living in numerous countries, she branched out career-wise, taking diverse jobs including teaching students of all ages, working as an au pair, a real estate agent, a research assistant for a politician and a librarian. Although she always wanted to write, divorce, single parenting and working full time left little time for creative endeavours so it was only after retirement that she began to write in earnest. So far, she has written a number of short stories and completed this, her first novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The red and black Morgan responded with an increased growl, a protest of sorts as Toby Wendell changed down a gear. The top was folded back and a breeze ruffled the tawny hair he had inherited from his long-departed mother. Urging the classic car up the steep ascent of Steven’s Rise, seven kilometres out of Brindalla, he tried to ignore the familiar clench in his stomach and the quickening of his pulse, wondering why he did it to himself. He could just as easily have taken the New Highway. Forcing himself to drive along the Old Highway had not made the experience any easier or the memories less painful.

Toby took another deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding himself, as he had learned to do in India years before, to concentrate on his breathing and live in the present moment, a practice which he frequently forgot to employ. Right now, I’m driving my car home from work. I’m healthy. I’m comfortably off. I have a good job; a nice apartment and Sheena loves me.

He glanced at the black, white and tan Australian Shepherd in the passenger seat beside him. She sat imperiously, surveying the passing scene with her nose pointing into the wind. Toby reached over and gave her a pat. She turned her head and gave his hand a quick lick in acknowledgement.

Sheena was Toby’s constant companion. Every weekday she leapt eagerly into the car for the twenty-kilometre drive from their home in Kassandra to the outskirts of Brindalla where Toby worked. They drove over the featureless four-lane concrete bridge and along the ten-year-old road that the locals still referred to as the New Highway. In the evenings, especially if he had been drinking, Toby made himself take the unsealed Old Highway, but no matter how often he drove the road, he couldn’t prevent the shaft of sorrow and guilt shooting through him.

Shaking his head slightly, he concentrated on the climb ahead. Up above, loomed the bare, wind-blasted summit of the Rise. The rocky knoll rose out of a sea of paddocks that stretched, unbroken apart from an occasional scattering of gum trees, towards the darkening horizon.

As the car crested the hill, Toby gazed over the familiar countryside in front of him. He both loved it for its raw beauty and hated it for the deep visceral hold it exerted on his life. Below him, the tree-lined road stretched, ruler-straight, towards Kassandra.

It was dusk. The fiery evening sun was dipping towards the hills as the light drained out of the day. The trees were casting long, dark shadows across the road ahead of him. This was one of Toby’s favourite times, the magical interlude between the heat of the day and the cool of the evening, when rabbits and kangaroos and wallabies came out to nibble at sparse clumps of grass.

He reminded himself to keep a sharp eye out for them, even though he wasn’t driving as fast as he usually did in his Audi. The Morgan, with her lightweight wooden frame and steel chassis, wasn’t built for dirt roads and he knew she’d shake to pieces if he drove too fast, a fact that his father, Joe Wendell, had bluntly pointed out when he’d bought the car.

Above, white clouds turning grey in the early evening light flecked the enamel sky. It had been an exceptionally dry spring and it promised to be another long, hot summer. Already the oppressive heat had parched and cracked the soil but now, to Toby’s surprise, dark clouds were rolling over the distant hills, shouldering aside their gentler cousins.

He glanced at the dog in the seat beside him. ‘Unbelievable! Looks like rain, at last. I can’t remember when we had a decent downpour. We need to hurry. Murphy’s Law, isn’t it? It’s been dry for months then, when I bring the Morgan, it threatens to rain.’

The car began its descent and Toby reached forward to switch on the radio, slung under the passenger glove box, then he paused, peering ahead. Something was moving in and out of the dappled shade ahead. A girl, her back to them, was trudging along the bare, stony verge of the Old Highway with its struggling tufts of grass and ragged eucalypts.

‘What on earth’s she doing out here alone at this time of evening? And how did she get here?’ Toby stared at the long straight stretch of road ahead as the car levelled out on the flat. Not a vehicle in sight. He flicked a quick glance in the rear vision mirror, back towards the lonely outcrop of the Rise. Deserted, as he knew it would be. The old dirt road was little used these days, except by local farmers and a few wary truck drivers, hoping to avoid the police checks on the main road.

In all his years of travelling that road, Toby could never remember seeing anyone out there, on foot, with no visible means of transport, let alone a young girl out for an evening stroll. And yet she wasn’t strolling. She was heading in the same direction he was, away from Brindalla, walking wearily towards … what? Kassandra? No, too far! A house, then? The turnoff to the nearest homestead was five kilometres ahead and the main dwelling was set a long way back off the road, hidden from view by a thicket of trees. Could that be where she was going?

Toby slowed the car to a crawl as he approached the girl then he pulled to a halt beside her, directing an enquiring glance in her direction. Long dark hair rippled down her back. Her drab floral dress clung to her body, glued there by the heat that was just beginning to surrender its hold to the encroaching evening. She was very thin and her flat shoes were worn and scuffed, covered with red dust.

‘She looks as if she hasn’t had a decent feed in months, Sheena, unlike you,’ he muttered, aiming a quick sideways grin at his pet then he looked at the girl. ‘Would you like a lift?’

He waited, but she turned her head with a nervous glance and retreated towards the wire fence that bordered the paddock beside her so he shrugged and moved off. He wasn’t about to force a lift on someone who clearly didn’t want it.

Toby turned his attention back to the road. Just ahead, at the base of a milepost, there was a fresh arrangement of wild flowers in a jar. They hadn’t been there the last time he had travelled this way. The sight caused a sharp stab in his gut. Who had put them there? Presumably not the girl since she hadn’t yet reached the post.

He looked away quickly as he passed and concentrated on what lay ahead then curiosity got the better of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror. The girl was barely visible through the plume of red dust that followed the car like a fox’s tail. She had come to a halt near the milepost, under a sorry-looking Blue Mallee, staring after him.

Sheena, standing now, in the passenger seat, turned to gaze back at the lone figure by the side of the road. She gave a whine, shot her master a reproachful look and placed a paw on his arm.

Sighing, Toby lifted his foot off the accelerator. He let the car slow to a crawl and pulled over onto the dusty verge. ‘OK. You’re right. We can’t just leave her there.’

He flicked a quick glance at the black thunderheads rolling in from the hills. The temperature was dropping and a cool breeze had sprung up ahead of the approaching storm. The sky was darkening ominously. It looked like there was going to be a downpour.

The girl wasn’t dressed for wet weather or for walking. How had she got out there? Since leaving town, he had only passed two other vehicles, a red Toyota station wagon and a battered ute with two blue heelers on the tray, yapping joyously. Both had been travelling in the opposite direction, back towards Brindalla.

Maybe someone ahead of them had dropped her off, but why there? Where could she be going? Properties in the area were large, owing to the semi-arid nature of the countryside and the few houses were kilometres apart.

Toby sat, drumming his fingers moodily on the steering wheel, wrestling with his conscience. He was hungry and running later than usual for his Friday night visitors. He glanced at his companion. She was watching him with big, limpid eyes.

He drew in an exasperated breath. ‘OK, you win! We can’t just leave her out here. Maybe she doesn’t realise how dangerous it is, apart from the fact that she’ll be drenched when that storm comes.’

Toby knew that, as the light faded, feral dogs and dingoes came out to hunt, not to mention lonely truck drivers. Throwing back his head, he closed his eyes. Shit! Why me and why tonight? The girl had resumed walking. Reluctantly, he put the car into gear and reversed towards the solitary figure.

Sheena was now standing in the passenger seat wagging her tail furiously as they drew up beside her. She gave an excited yip. The girl fixed her eyes on the car, a concerned expression on her face. She wrapped her arms around her thin body, her large, brown eyes dark with fear.

‘Hey! Don’t be scared. Sheena won’t hurt you. She’s very friendly. We only want to offer you a lift. It’s not safe for you out here alone you know, especially now it’s getting dark and there’s a storm coming.’

The girl gazed mutely at him and it suddenly occurred to Toby that she might be afraid of him, not his dog. She stepped back towards some low clumps of silvery saltbush on the side of the road, as if they could somehow afford her protection.

‘It’s OK.’ Toby wondered how to reassure the young woman. ‘Where are you going?’ He waited.

The girl looked away, her silence contrasting with the background chorus of cicadas and the distant rolling of thunder. Shivering slightly, she turned back to study him as if assessing his intentions.

Toby could feel himself becoming impatient with this pantomime. There was no time to waste if they were going to get to Kassandra before the rain started. He tapped the fingers of his right hand on the steering wheel as the girl gazed at his face but, to his surprise, she didn’t give the normal reaction to his unusual eyes. Her silence and immobility were starting to irritate him. He had a lingering headache and a fairly short fuse on such occasions. ‘Do you speak English? Do you understand what I’m saying?’

The girl gave a slight nod and Toby frowned. Why wasn’t she talking to him then? Was she just excessively shy or mentally challenged perhaps? She didn’t appear to be deaf but he supposed she might be able to lip read. He waited for her to elaborate but she merely gazed, first at him, then at Sheena.

‘Well? Do you want a lift or not? If we hurry, we should just make it to Kassandra before the rain starts. I can’t put the top up. It’s jammed. On the other hand, if you want to stay out here and get drenched, just say so.’

The girl gave a reluctant nod so Toby reached over and patted the back seat. ‘Here, Sheena! You can sit here.’

The dog gazed at him, obviously reluctant to vacate her prime position.

‘Sheena! Here!’

She finally jumped over into the back and Toby leaned across and opened the passenger door. The girl was staring at the car, the bright red bodywork, contrasting black wings and running board, the leather strap holding the bonnet closed and the chrome spoke wheels.

‘She’s a 1979 Morgan. Fully restored. Beautiful, isn’t she?’

The girl gave a minute shrug and a toss of her head.

Toby gave a small laugh. ‘You do realise that you’ve just committed sacrilege, don’t you?’

The young woman continued to stand beside the car, watching him as if she didn’t fully understand him. Her lack of reaction to his attempted joke and her passivity annoyed him, causing him to speak more sharply than he had intended. ‘For Christ’s sake! Get in. I haven’t got all night. I’m running late. I’ll drop you in Kassandra. I assume that’s where you’re going?’

The girl gazed at him uncertainly. She looked as if she might cry and Toby relented. ‘OK. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Get in and I promise to take you wherever you want to go.’

Biting a nail, the girl glanced at the threatening sky then she appeared to make up her mind. Climbing into the car, she closed the door behind her.

Toby put the Morgan into gear and they moved off. ‘It’s a bit of a rough ride, I’m afraid. The suspension leaves a bit to be desired. Not designed for country roads.’

He waited several beats for her response but she evinced no interest at all in what he was saying. He tried again. ‘I’m Toby. What’s your name?’

The girl stared out of the front windscreen as though she hadn’t heard him. Long dark hair was whipping around her face and her cheeks had grubby streaks as if she’d been crying. Still, he thought she could be quite pretty with a wash and a decent feed inside her. New clothes wouldn’t hurt either.

A few kilometres down the road, he tried again, ‘Where do you want to go? Do you live in Kassandra?’ She didn’t come from Brindalla. He knew virtually all of the three hundred and forty residents, even if only by sight.

Silence.

He shrugged. Her rudeness was of no concern to him. His main worry was getting home before it started to rain.

He directed his thoughts to the evening ahead. He was running later than usual for his visitors and he didn’t want to keep the women waiting. It wouldn’t be polite. More to the point, he enjoyed their company and they’d probably leave if he wasn’t there when they arrived.

Reaching forward, he switched on the radio. A cacophony of static greeted his efforts. ‘Ah, bugger! Joel was supposed to have fixed that.’ He turned it off and they travelled the rest of the way in silence.

On the outskirts of town, heavy sleepers bounced as the car clattered over the old arched iron bridge that spanned the waters of the Kassandra River. The sun had hidden itself behind the dark clouds and orange streetlights glowed in the twilight. The air had taken on the chill that precedes a storm, the thunder sounded closer and a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky. Toby could smell the rain that was coming.

Briefly, he wondered where to leave the girl. ‘Look, you don’t have to speak to me if you don’t want to. Just point to where you want to go.’

He waited for an indication of her wishes but his passenger simply turned her head away. Toby clamped his mouth tight and gave an irritated sigh. This is bloody ridiculous! What do I do with her now?

He drove slowly through the older part of town, past the Imperial Hotel with its wide verandah edged with wrought iron lace work, past the Town Hall with its obligatory clock tower, past the mandatory war memorial listing the names of the young men who had perished in the Great War and past the most impressive building, the Aboriginal Medical Centre, housed in the former Commonwealth Bank building. Two Corinthian pillars, decorated with brightly coloured indigenous paintings, flanked the entrance.

After briefly considering the matter, Toby decided to drop the girl at the police station. The cops’d be able to find out what was going on and where she’d come from. Maybe someone had reported her missing.

He slowed the car as they approached the station with its blue neon sign shining through the gloom. The heavy front door, usually open, was closed and padlocked. A small white card tacked to a panel gave a mobile number for emergency contact. Toby groaned. The two officers were obviously out somewhere, attending to an incident, or else they were down at the local fish and chip shop enjoying their evening feed.

Suddenly the girl appeared to realise Toby’s intentions. Jerking up in her seat, she stared anxiously at the building. She had apparently not registered that the station was unmanned. Shaking her head vigorously, she started to make a strange keening sound in her throat, putting her hand on Toby’s arm with an imploring look.

Her violent reaction took him by surprise. He wondered if she was about to throw a fit of some kind so he spoke in a soothing voice. ‘Hey! It’s OK! If you don’t want to go there, I won’t make you. There’s nobody around anyway.’ He raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t very well leave her outside in the rain. Tapping the steering wheel, he considered his options. The bus station! If she doesn’t live nearby, she can catch a bus home.

They cruised down the street and turned into the large empty parking area. Toby pulled up next to a shelter as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. ‘You’ll be dry here,’ he said, turning to the young woman.

The depot was deserted, except for a stray black dog snuffling in a garbage bin. It wandered towards the car and Sheena tensed, growling, and gave a warning bark. Toby turned to look at his pet. ‘Quiet, Sheena!’ He stared expectantly at his passenger, waiting for her to climb out but she remained in her seat, gazing straight ahead, chewing at her lip and twisting her hands in her lap.

They both sat for a few moments. Toby could feel his irritation building once more. He directed a pointed look at the girl but she made no move to get out.

Since his passenger seemed incapable of doing anything for herself, Toby leaned across and opened her door. To his surprise, considering her dishevelled appearance, he caught a whiff of a delicate, flowery perfume. ‘Here you are! You can take a bus to wherever it is you’re headed. There’ll be one along soon, I should think. If you’re hungry, you can buy yourself a hamburger at the McDonald’s over there.’ He pointed towards the brightly lit windows and golden arches at the back of the parking lot.

Climbing out reluctantly, the girl stood, seemingly glued to the spot, as Toby snapped the door closed behind her. She watched without expression as he touched the accelerator, gave a brief wave and moved off.

He was in a hurry to get home now. Raindrops, reflecting in the headlights, were falling more rapidly, bouncing off the red paintwork of the bonnet and the dark grey of the roadway and Toby could feel the drops, cold against his scalp. Rain was trickling down his face and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

As he turned out onto the main street, he couldn’t resist glancing back to ascertain if the girl had moved. He could see her through the curtain of rain. She was still standing where he had left her under a streetlight, a lonely, bereft-looking figure in the darkness of the empty bus station, like a solo ballerina in the middle of a deserted stage.

Frowning, he realised suddenly that she carried no handbag and her shabby dress didn’t appear to have pockets. How was she going to buy food or a bus ticket without any money? He also hadn’t checked the timetable in his hurry to be free of her. Who knew if there would be a bus that night to her destination, wherever that was? He pulled over to the side of the road as icy rainwater trickled down his neck, then he hit his open palm hard on the steering wheel. ‘Damn it!’ He glanced at the reproachful Shepherd in the rearview mirror. ‘Yeah! Yeah! I know! You don’t have to look at me like that.’

Sighing, he did a U-turn at the next set of traffic lights and cruised back through the downpour into the bus station. The strange girl watched him approach and Toby thought he saw a small smile flicker as he drew up beside her.

‘Get in!’ He leaned over, threw the door open impatiently and waited while she climbed in. ‘OK! Here’s the deal! You can stay the night with me but in the morning, I want you gone. Understand?’ He didn’t bother to wait for a reply. ‘And tonight, you need to make yourself scarce. I’m expecting visitors. You’ll have to stay in your bedroom.’

The girl inclined her head gravely and gave Toby a timid smile of gratitude and he wondered suddenly what on earth he was doing taking in some stray girl he’d found wandering along the highway. Still, she was only staying for one night, albeit a damned inconvenient one, considering the visitors who were due to arrive in less than an hour.

Turning the car in the direction of his block of units, overlooking the Kassandra River, he drove down his street, past the wattles, weeping willows and River Red Gums that bordered the dark flowing water and turned in at the entrance to the car park beneath his building.

The rain was pelting down in earnest now as a gusting wind blew it almost horizontal and Toby felt relieved to be under shelter at last. Parking in the empty spot beside his silver Audi, Toby glanced at the girl. Her dark hair was plastered to her forehead and hanging in long wet tendrils down her back and her thin dress clung to her body. She was shivering.

Sheena leapt out without waiting for Toby to open the door as he and his passenger climbed out. They walked over to the lift, the girl following Toby like an obedient puppy. She seemed to have overcome her former reluctance to trust him and he reflected that he appeared to have passed a test of some sort.

Arriving on the fifth floor, Toby unlocked the door of his apartment where the reverse cycle system maintained the temperature at a pleasant twenty-one degrees Celsius. He walked into the kitchen to the right of the front door and glanced at the clock on the wall above the cupboards. It wasn’t as late as he had feared and he relaxed slightly. ‘Have a seat. I need to feed Sheena then I’ll get some dinner for us.’

Tossing his keys onto the dark granite bench top, he opened a can, spooning pet food into a large bowl then he added a bone from the fridge. He carried them through the lounge room and over to the glass doors that led onto the balcony overlooking the river. Sliding one door open with his foot, he walked outside and placed the food down in front of a large wooden kennel as Sheena barked and danced excitedly around him.

Ignoring his instructions, the girl stood uncertainly, watching Sheena’s antics through the large picture windows as Toby came back inside and closed the door. ‘You’d think I never fed her.’ He smiled at his pet, wolfing down her dinner outside.

The girl was now moving quietly about the cream lounge room, running her fingers over the black leather furniture. She stared at a jade statue of the Buddha on a grey stone plinth and paused in front of a brass, four-armed Hindu deity, dancing in an aureole of flames then she directed a surprised look in Toby’s direction.

‘That’s Shiva the Destroyer, Lord of the Dance,’ he said, walking over to stand beside her. ‘He has his left leg lifted over that demon, symbolizing his triumph over ignorance. I bought him when I was in India years ago.’

The girl nodded briefly and moved on. She stopped beside a highly polished grand piano, again raising enquiring eyebrows.

He nodded. ‘I play a little. Do you?’

She shook her head and once again, to Toby’s surprise, she gave no indication that she had registered his mismatched blue and green eyes. Most people either stared or commented or turned away quickly. The girl simply glanced at him as if she hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Toby smiled ruefully to himself. He was disappointed by her lack of reaction. He realised he’d come to expect and enjoy it.

The girl shivered again.

‘Towels!’ Toby turned and disappeared through the doorway into his bedroom, which, like the main room, opened onto the front balcony.

A few moments later he returned with two large black towels. He handed one to the bedraggled girl standing in front of him and they both proceeded to rub their hair and clothing then Toby walked outside to dry Sheena. Returning inside, he took the damp towel from the girl and pointed to a short hallway that led off the main room to the right of his bedroom doorway.

‘The spare bedroom’s down that hallway. You can sleep there tonight. It’s got a bathroom with everything you need. You’d better get out of those wet clothes while I organize some dinner. Have a shower if you’d like to. My cousin Adele leaves a robe in there and I keep some spare T-shirts in a drawer in the wardrobe. You can borrow one. It’ll be too big but I don’t have anything your size.’ He gave a quick grin then he watched as his visitor disappeared down the short hallway.

Walking into his bedroom, he changed quickly into jeans, a blue, short-sleeved shirt and a pair of runners. He combed his wet hair then headed back to the lounge room.

Fifteen minutes later the girl emerged, dressed in one of his white T-shirts and Adele’s apricot silk robe.

Toby studied his visitor. He estimated that she was about seventeen, although she could be older. It was hard to tell. She had the figure of a young woman but there was something childlike about her behaviour.

The girl turned away under his scrutiny and continued her tour of the room, staring at the creamy white carpet, the curtains and the black leather furniture, taking in the stark modern sculptures, the large glossy pot plants and the bright contemporary paintings on the walls as if she had never seen such opulence before.

To his amusement, his visitor moved over to the floor-length curtains and unashamedly fingered the fabric then she paused, watching Sheena on the balcony, gnawing enthusiastically at her bone.

Toby walked over and stood beside his guest, gazing out at the spectacular night time view over the river. The rain had stopped as quickly as it had started. The distant hills that surrounded Kassandra were still faintly silhouetted against the sky and, as the clouds parted, the moon appeared and cast a silvery sheen across the landscape. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

The girl inclined her head in response. Obviously, she could hear him. She couldn’t have read his lips since she was standing beside him. She was apparently simply choosing not to speak, unless, of course, she couldn’t.

Walking back into the kitchen, he opened a drawer, pulled out a notepad and pen and returned to her side. ‘I … ah … wonder if you’d like to use these.’ He held them out to her.

The girl gazed at them with a perplexed look on her face. She raised her eyes, stared at Toby briefly then she turned and continued to wander around the apartment.

Toby stood, still holding out the writing implements, feeling slightly foolish. He looked down at the items in his hand. Was his visitor illiterate? She didn’t look particularly embarrassed at his suggestion, more dismissive. He gave up, walked into the kitchen and threw the items on the kitchen bench then he pulled a dish of lasagne out of the fridge and slid it into the microwave. He had cooked it two nights previously, so he wouldn’t need to waste time before the women’s arrival.

The girl paused in front of a large, brilliantly-coloured poster mounted behind glass.

‘Hundertwasser,’ Toby said. ‘Do you know his work?’

His guest shook her head.

‘Austrian-born,’ he said. ‘He moved to New Zealand later in life.’ He glanced at his watch. There was no time to lose. The women were due in just over three quarters of an hour. He needed to feed his visitor and get her safely out of the way. Once she was settled in the spare bedroom, he could relax and forget about her for the rest of the evening.

Walking over to his player, he turned to the girl. ‘I’m a bit old-fashioned, I guess. I still listen to CDs.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you have a preference?’ His visitor shook her head so he selected a disc and inserted it into the machine. ‘Adam Hurst – cello. Wonderful music! He combines Eastern and Western styles seamlessly. Have you heard of him?’

The girl again shook her head, dark eyes fixed on his face.

Toby waited until the haunting strains floated into the room then he returned to the kitchen and began to rustle up a Greek salad. He handed it to his companion along with some red place mats, matching napkins, wine glasses and cutlery. The girl set the table.

When the microwave beeped and he judged that the lasagne was ready, he served out generous helpings. His guest ate ravenously, as if she hadn’t had any food all day, but she sipped her glass of red wine rather decorously.

Toby studied the girl as she ate. She knew how to behave. She used her napkin and she didn’t wave her knife in the air. He rubbed his forehead in confusion. Maybe she came from a middle-class family that had fallen on hard times.

Much to his surprise, he found he was glad that he hadn’t left her on the side of the road or abandoned her in the bus station. He felt proud of himself. He shot her a brief grin. ‘I’m glad you like my cooking. Mind you, the way you scoffed that, it looks to me as if you’d have eaten Sheena’s food if I’d given it to you.’

For the first time, she rewarded him with a shy, appreciative smile that transformed her face and he realised suddenly that she was very attractive in a delicate kind of way.

He glanced at his watch. ‘Listen, I need you to disappear now. I’m expecting my guests to arrive soon. You should find everything you need in the bedroom and the ensuite. I know it’s early but there’s a television and some books in your room if you’d like to read. I’ll see you in the morning.’

He stood and ushered her quickly down the hallway towards the spare room, suddenly feeling very protective towards her. She seemed so innocent and vulnerable and, although he was reluctant to admit it, there was a small spark of attraction, which he quickly tamped down. ‘Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning and don’t take any notice if you hear any noise. It’ll just be my visitors.’

CHAPTER TWO

Toby waited until the girl had disappeared down the short hallway then he walked into his room, deep in thought. His guest was clearly not deaf but her refusal to speak to him was intriguing. He shrugged. The matter would have to wait for the morning. No doubt there was an explanation for her silence.

He took a two-minute shower and was just drying himself when the doorbell rang. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he strode over to answer it, thanking his lucky stars that he’d managed to get rid of the girl in time. It would be embarrassing if she realised who his visitors were. Why, he wasn’t sure. She was only staying for one night after all then he’d never see her again.

He opened the door and nodded at the two elegantly dressed women standing there. ‘Hey Amber, Cam! Glad to see you’re back!’

They were both blonde, but Camille, the older and taller of the two, had short, honey-coloured curly hair and an impressive bust while Amber had a stylish, shoulder-length bob and a slimmer build. According to their website they were sisters, although Toby knew that wasn’t true.

‘Hi, Toby! How are you?’ Camille smiled cheerfully at him as he ushered them both into the lounge room.

Toby gave the older woman an appraising look. ‘Travel clearly agrees with you, Cam. How was Italy?’ She was studying Renaissance Art by distance education through a prestigious college in Sydney. She and her classmates had just returned from a tour of Italy, bank-rolled by her night-time and weekend earnings.

‘Magic! Pure magic, especially Venice!’

Toby nodded. He handed over a wad of notes, which Camille tucked into her handbag. She didn’t bother to count it.

‘How’s law treated you this week, Am?’ Toby knew that her real name was Lynley, but, as a practising solicitor, she needed to be very careful about the clients she saw on weekends. She laughed. ‘Fair to middling but it’s not as well paid as this yet. Not as much fun either.’

‘Stick with it and you’ll make your fortune – at law, I mean.’ Toby grinned at her. ‘Then you won’t need to put up with lecherous bastards like me.’

Amber shot him an arch look. ‘But Toby, maybe I like lecherous bastards like you!’

Toby laughed. He enjoyed his regular Friday night booking with the two sex workers. They weren’t streetwalkers. They offered an expensive escort service to a handpicked clientele. He knew that there were plenty of lonely farmers in the area with the inclination and the wherewithal to pay for their company. He gestured to his cocktail cabinet. ‘Drink?’

They both declined and he was glad. He just wanted to get on with the party, rather than risk his young visitor returning to the lounge room for some reason.

Darting a nervous glance at the hallway that led towards the spare bedroom, he turned towards his own room, finding himself walking softly so as not to be heard. Good grief! What am I doing? And