One Hour to Midnight Page 7

  Too aware of the hovering nurse, Leon gripped her hands. "Visiting Claremont may help you put the past into some sort of perspective."

  "Make it all neat and tidy, you mean?" She shook her head. "That would suit you, Leon wouldn't it?"

  The challenge was unmistakeable.

  "Nothing about this situation suits me, least of all dealing with a stubborn woman who's carrying an enormous chip on her shoulder. And here's me thinking you might enjoy catching up with Cassie and McKenna. I know they both thought you hung the moon."

  He saw her indecision and had the sensation he'd just compounded a grave error. Cassie Burns, his housekeeper had been at Claremont since he was a teenager and McKenna, his driver, had first worked for his parents. In the past, he'd squirmed under the lash of their condemnation over this woman.

  Bringing Ricki here is a mistake, Leon. Find some other solution to her situation.

  Where else can I ensure she's safe?

  And what makes you think she's safe here? With Julia? You're brewing trouble.

  As his housekeeper's words ghosted through his memory, Leon knew it was suddenly as important as taking his next breath, that Ricki—scratch that—Veronica returned to Claremont.

  She needed to visit, and he needed to have her under his roof.

  Had Cassie been right? Was there just cause for Veronica's anger and resentment? Did she have any reason to trust him? She chewed at her lush lower lip, and he was filled with sudden misgiving.

  Are my reasons so very altruistic?

  "Julia's no longer at Claremont, Veronica. I'm issuing you the invitation."

  One swift glance from sea-blue eyes made him regret the words. "You don't think I'd be stupid enough to take your word it would be okay to visit your home if she was still alive, still the lady of the manor?"

  Each word found a vulnerable chink bringing with it, a sting of guilt. What had transpired between his wife and Veronica?

  "Shall I call McKenna?"

  She shrugged and spread her hands. Leon took that as acquiescence and rose and strode to the desk. Within minutes, McKenna had the Bentley under the portico.

  "McKenna's here with the car." He held her arm as she stood up, sliding it around her waist when she staggered. "Take it easy."

  Her fragility worried him. He'd never thought meeting with Jordan would upset her so badly. He steadied her until she could stand unaided, but kept a firm grip on her arm as he signalled a hovering nurse to pick up her case and handbag.

  Outside, he opened the car door and helped her into the back seat.

  "See her safely into Cassie's care, McKenna." Leon laid a hand on her cheek. "Rest and we'll be in touch when we need you, try not to worry. And, thanks for what you did for Jordan back there, Veronica. That's the most animation he's shown in weeks. A war," he shook his head, "that was inspired."

  "I'm a teacher, Leon. I deal with kids Jordan's age every day."

  "Maybe, but it sure beats the hell out of hearing him talk about dying."

  He shut the car door and stood there, hands in his pockets as he watched the car pull away, frowning heavily.

  Veronica's reaction to the mere suggestion of visiting Claremont made him more than a little uneasy. What had transpired between the two women while he'd been desperately fixing the enormous mess Yannis left when he topped himself?

  Guilt hit him upside of the head.

  He rarely thought of that black time but Veronica's re-entry into his life was forcing him to re-evaluate.

  Still brooding, he strode back inside the hospital and to Jordan's side. The boy was asleep. Leon stood watching him, still frowning. Why had visiting with Jordan upset Veronica so badly? Her reaction didn't bode well for seeing his plans come to fruition.

  As he smoothed a lock of hair off his son's forehead, Leon knew there was no turning back. Guilt would not sway him from moving forward.

  ~***~

  Veronica slumped in the leather seat as the powerful car eased out onto the roadway.

  McKenna drove with the same reverence he lavished on the car's upkeep. She caught his glance in the rear vision mirror and turned to look out the window, scarcely able to believe how easily Leon had persuaded her to return to Claremont.

  As the car turned in the wide stone entrance she remembered so well, a shiver worked its way down her spine.

  Am I crazy? I vowed I'd never to return here. A sigh trembled from her. But then I never imagined that Jordan's life would depend on me, either.

  The car inched along the gravel drive in the dappled shade of huge river gums, marbled trunks standing to attention like a living guard of honour.

  She leaned forward slightly, anticipating that first glimpse.

  "It never fails," McKenna chuckled and she knew he'd deliberately slowed the car to prolong the magic moment.

  "It is special."

  As the car rounded the last curve, she saw it.

  Claremont.

  A huge jacaranda tree, its buds already a hazy mauve, towered on one side of the house, the lacy foliage lending a frothy delicacy to the heavy blue stonewalls and long windows. On the other side a magnificent Murray River Gum shaded the stone outbuilding that in years past was servants' quarters. Now they housed a fleet of cars.

  "Leon's ancestors built it when Australia still had penal colonies." McKenna's love and pride for the old homestead echoed in his tone. "The first wine grapes and wheat in Victoria were grown here."

  "That's impossible to imagine now." The reminder of just how powerful this family was made her uneasy. Claremont was now incorporated in an exclusive suburb of Dandenong, north east of the city centre. Its pastoral acres long since submerged in residential suburbs.

  The car glided to a halt on the gravel forecourt.

  McKenna was out and had the door open for her before she knew it, retrieved her suitcase and was now carrying it up the steps.

  Cassie Burns stood by the front door, her face creased in a welcoming smile.

  Tears flooded Veronica's eyes. She ran up the steps and caught the older woman's hands. "Cassie. It's so good to see you."

  "Ricki, all grown up." Cassie squeezed her hands tightly, her blue eyes warm. "Leon rang me to expect you. Come away in."

  Veronica followed the older woman, wiping a tear from her cheek. Cassie like Claremont never changed.

  Once inside the old house, the atmosphere settled around Veronica like a cloak, redolent of all who'd loved and lived and died within these walls.

  There was no point pining. She would never belong here.

  Then she saw the portrait of Julia holding a child. Mesmerised she walked closer, agony ripping her heart to shreds.

  That's Jordan, my child, my baby.

  "It's a good likeness." Cassie gripped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Jordan was a bonny wee lad."

  Veronica nodded moving away, fighting rage and jealousy. Jordan is mine. He grew under my heart. Not Julia's.

  But I gave him away, surrendered the right to call him mine.

  She looked around and knew she'd made a colossal mistake returning. Two steps inside and already the memories tormented her.

  She saw the hallway through the sheen of tears as she followed Cassie down into the original part of the old house. In the thirties Leon's grandfather had added a new wing and done extensive renovations on the upper story.

  "Leon asked me to prepare these rooms for you." Cassie opened the door into the guest suite Veronica had occupied before Jordan's birth. "If you want anything let me know. When you're ready I'll bring tea to the blue sitting room. You still drink tea?"

  "I do, thank you."

  Once alone, Veronica went to the wide bay window. Its flanking French doors opened onto a private terrace screened by melaleucas and weeping callistemon trees.

  Unbidden, the haunting memories returned.

  At first she'd been taken in by Julia's gentleness.

  It was only later, after Jordan's birth, and outside the sphere of the other woman's
influence, that she saw Julia's manipulation with a clear eye.

  Once, when Julia was expecting important guests, she'd tried to shift her from this suite of rooms to a smaller, upstairs, bed sitting room.

  Leon vetoed it.

  Veronica shivered as his angry words echoed in her head.

  Ricki is family, Julia. She's entitled to first consideration. I won't have her hidden away upstairs as if she's another Mrs Rochester.

  It was one of the rare occasions Leon had overruled his wife. But Julia soon exacted revenge.

  While Ricki rested, Julia visited and informed her that her presence was an embarrassment. Sonia deserved sympathy. Ricki, as the other woman, didn't. She was to plead tiredness and avoid their guests.

  In the end subterfuge wasn't necessary. She'd spent the next three weeks on bed-rest fearful she'd lose her baby.

  Veronica shook her head, but the memories were persistent.

  Why did I allow myself to be persuaded to return?

  Now, Veronica could see that beneath Julia's gentle veneer, lay a steel-trap toughness.

  She wanted my baby. And expertly manipulated my youth and unhappy guilt until she achieved what she wanted.

  Was Julia responsible for engineering Sonia's visit, a visit that culminated in Veronica's collapse? Now, years too late, her suspicions crystallized into certainty.

  And rehashing the past is such a wasted exercise. Let it go, Veronica. Let it go!

  A tap on the door and Cassie popped her head in. "I've made tea."

  As she followed the kindly Scotswoman, Veronica noticed the house was almost unchanged, furnished with a mix of antiques and modern furniture and decorated in pastels.

  What would it be like to possess roots like the ones the Karvasis family had? To know generations of your family had lived within these same walls?

  Cassie opened the door into the Blue Room, one of the few she'd been permitted to use when she'd lived here before Jordan's birth. Julia had guarded her possession jealously.

  Now, a swift glance assured Veronica there were no photos to mock her.

  "I love this room," Veronica turned to Cassie. "Won't you share a cup with me, please?"

  The older woman's homely face creased in a smile, her blue eyes twinkled behind wire-rimmed glasses, grey curls bobbed as she nodded. "I'll fetch another cup."

  When she returned, Cassie poured tea and sat in the chair opposite, her expression soft. "What have you been doing since you left, Ricki?"

  "It's Veronica, Cassie. I go by my given name now."

  The older woman gave her a shrewd look. "I see."

  And Veronica knew that Cassie did see, and what's more she understood the reason behind the change.

  "Teaching." Veronica toyed with the cup handle. "After I returned home, I went to University, obtained my teaching degree and then returned to teach at my old school."

  "You enjoy it?"

  Her job and Kathleen's support were the only things that had saved her sanity during the past difficult years. "I love it. Children are so rewarding, especially the ones I teach."

  "Are they handicapped?"

  "Not in the usual sense." Veronica chuckled, recalling some of the delightful imps who'd passed through her classes. "They're children of recent immigrants. English isn't their first language. Some find the transition very difficult."

  Cassie was silent for a few moments then looked directly at Veronica, sky blue eyes clear. "You've been in my thoughts so often. I always felt you had a very raw deal."

  Veronica glanced at Leon's housekeeper, surprised. "It was a long time ago. I was young and silly."

  "Maybe," Cassie said shaking her head. "But that's no excuse for the pressure they put on you."

  Veronica fiddled with the silver teaspoon lying beside her cup. "So I didn't imagine it?"

  "No child, you didn't." Cassie's blue eyes flashed. "I told Leon the day he brought you here he was making a huge mistake."

  As the years passed, Veronica often wondered if she'd been under pressure, or if she'd imagined and magnified it over time. Now, to hear Cassie validate her conclusions, she knew she'd not been mistaken.

  A burden eased and soothed an intolerable ache. The pressure had not been a figment of her imagination. But she wasn't comfortable discussing Leon, or his late wife, with their housekeeper.

  "What happened to Julia?" she asked changing the subject to something less emotionally charged.

  "Didn't Leon explain?"

  "Only that she was dead."

  And he made damn certain I never knew he was a widower until I returned to Australia.

  "It's gone two years since she passed. She had melanoma and died a slow, miserable death." Cassie's mouth tightened. "Now Jordan's battling leukaemia, it's been tough on Leon."

  Veronica took a quick sustaining breath. What a dreadful burden. First, losing his wife and now being forced to watch his son is fighting for his life. "No wonder he didn't want to talk about it."

  "He was very cut up when Julia died."

  Veronica never doubted it. To be loved as Leon loved Julia was every woman's dream, but had the other woman been worthy of that love? Or had love indeed made Leon blind?

  The mean thought made Veronica shiver in discomfort.

  "You must be tired." Cassie reacted to the shiver. "Leon said you've had a stressful few days. Jordan is counting on you being fit and rested."

  "I know. He's so sick, Cassie. I can't believe how much he's changed in the past year." Veronica looked up and caught Cassie's expression. "Julia sent me a letter and photo every year on Jordan's birthday."

  "Not Julia! I'll wager anything you like that she never gave you a single thought after you left here." Cassie looked at her keenly. "You have Leon to thank for your letters."

  "I suspected as much. From something he let slip," she said quietly. Although the letters were signed by them both, it seemed as if Leon was the one who cared enough, to keep her updated on Jordan's life.

  "You go and lie down, my dear. You're looking peaked."

  Back in her room, Veronica found a maid was unpacking her case. The girl gave Veronica a shy smile and then scurried out the door. The photo of Jordan sat on the bedside table and beside it, the silver mouse. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she held the frame between unsteady hands. Comparing this photo to Jordan now, she could only pray that the transplant would at least grant him remission.

  Chill foreboding settled around her shoulders.

  Would their prayers be answered, or would the God of retribution snatch this member of the Karvasis family too?

  Chapter Seven

  Unable to sleep, Veronica leaned her elbows on the wide sill of the sitting room window. Moonlight danced silver sovereigns on the flagstones of the terrace beneath the weeping bottlebrush and sentinel melaleucas. By day the trees swarmed with lorikeets and honeyeaters. Now, they were like the house.

  Brooding. Waiting.

  A night breeze tugged at her hair. Freed from its daytime confinement, the thick honey blonde curtain brushed shoulders that gleamed white in the pale light.

  A small sound on the terrace alerted her. The atmosphere underwent a subtle change. Blood pounded in her veins and nerve ends tingled.

  Leon crossed the flagstones, the moonlight's shadow moving ahead of him. Outside the French doors to her suite, he paused.

  Veronica never hesitated. She opened the door and he stepped inside.

  "Is Jordan sleeping?" She was first to break the pulsing silence. Why had he come to her?

  "Yes." He moved closer, leaned against the opposite sill of the bay window and tilted his head back on the frame. His shoulders drooped and his hand hung limp.

  "You need rest," she said, her concern genuine. Leon looked very much like a man teetering on the edge.

  "What's rest?" His hollow laugh echoed as he straightened and stepped closer. "Would you give a man comfort and ease, Ricki?"

  Her heart raced, she'd always loved the inflection he put on her name
. Tonight she revelled in being Ricki. Sensible Veronica had vanished with the moonlight.

  His brooding words made her react. Alone in the night, with no fear of being interrupted, and Julia but a distant memory, she opened her arms and offered Leon comfort.

  It was risky. But tonight, back within Claremont's confines, she succumbed to impulse.

  Leon stepped into her arms, shudders shaking his body as he crushed her close, his bowed head resting in the hollow of her neck.

  "Why?" His voice was muffled in her hair.

  She slipped her hands beneath his jacket, ran her palms up his back and found muscles as rigid as iron. She frowned and tightened her hold.

  Even a man as strong as Leon had his breaking point. "Life offers no guarantees."

  "But he's so young, he was so vital." Leon pushed her away, gripped her shoulders, his expression tormented. "It's not fair."

  The age-old reaction alarmed her.

  She'd never seen Leon so down. Did he think he had the monopoly on suffering? He would probably hate her but she knew sympathy would be no help.

  "Who said life was meant to be fair. Stop indulging in self-pity and consider the advantages you do have."

  Leon jerked back as if she'd slapped him, dropped his hands and his retaliation was swift. "It's different for you. You've never loved Jordan. Never watched him grow, or walked the floor with him when he had colic. Hell, you never even had the guts to visit and get to know your child."

  Shock left Veronica bereft of speech, and then rage bled through her grief and into the huge, internal void she'd lived with for a decade.

  "How dare you?" Each clipped word was edged with fury. "You have a nerve. It was because I loved Jordan that I left him to you and Julia. What could I offer him by comparison?"

  "That's so easy to say now."

  She whirled around, desperate to escape his harsh words.

  "Easy. How dare you? You and Julia brought me here so you could take my baby." The accusation rose from the deep well of festering bitterness. "Your whole family used me."

  Leon moved swiftly, spinning her around to face him.