with posters of Formula One drivers, but from that moment Charles Svenson had been conspicuous by his absence.
Jenna was his daughter.
It had been a long time since Svenson had driven a racing car, Riley thought grimly, but his reputation was still of a womaniser living on the edge of a corrupt world. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be his child. In truth, Nicole and Charles created a combination of parenthood that no one would want.
But at least Jenna should have money. It was inconceivable that she didn’t.
She’d be another Lisa, he told himself as he hauled their suitcases into the house, but then he looked again at the battered suitcase, and he thought of the twiggy little ducks and felt that same tug of doubt. Then he reached the veranda and looked down at Jenna’s face as she slept-and the tug grew stronger.
Jenna was cuddling her little sister. Karli was curled against her and Jenna’s grip was protective even in sleep. She looked almost fierce.
Maybe if he’d met the unspeakable Brian, he’d feel like that too.
But he wouldn’t meet Karli’s father. Why would he? He had nothing to do with this pair. On Monday they’d be on the train and out of here.
Still unsettled, he went back to the kitchen, foraged around until he found a few cans of orange juice that he’d vaguely remembered Maggie lecturing him about, then took a can and two glasses back to the bedroom. He stared at the sleeping woman and child for a moment longer.
This was useless. He was getting involved.
He didn’t get involved.
Get out of here, he told himself. Now.
And he turned and went before he could talk himself out of it.
Jenna woke to silence.
She opened her eyes and surveyed the world with caution. The searing heat of the day hadn’t yet blasted in, but it was well after sunrise. Jenna could see for miles, the land to the horizon stark and arid in the morning light.
The wind had dropped. The dust clouds of yesterday were no longer sweeping the paddocks. She closed her eyes with relief, wiggling her toes against the clean linen and thinking of what could have happened if Riley hadn’t been here.
He had been here. The nightmare hadn’t happened.
‘Are you awake yet, Jenna?’
She turned and her sister’s small face was right against hers. Karli was cuddling in, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her newly acquired big sister. It had taken Jenna months to get the little girl to trust her but now, as far as Karli was concerned, Jenna could do no wrong.
‘I’m awake, sweetie. Hush. You’ll wake Mr Jackson.’
‘He’s gone.’
Gone. She stared over her little sister’s head.
The bed at the far end of the veranda was empty.
‘His truck drove away,’ Karli said, and Jenna frowned.
‘When?’
‘Just then. He drove away and then he came back, but he’s gone again now. I pretended to be asleep. He put something beside our bed and then he stood and looked at us, but he didn’t say anything.’
For heaven’s sake. How deeply had she been sleeping?
She pushed her sheet aside and rose, but with care. Whether or not Riley was gone, she wasn’t taking chances. She checked the buttons on her makeshift nightshirt-and then examined the evidence.
Riley’s bed was made. His work clothes, which had been strewn on the chair beside his bed the previous night, were gone as well.
On the floor beside their own bed, Jenna saw two suitcases. Sitting on top were two glasses and a can of orange juice.
‘Hey, he’s brought us our clothes,’ she told Karli, and it was strange how different she suddenly felt. It was a small gesture, she thought, driving across to the siding to fetch their gear and then bringing them orange juice, but it felt…great. It felt as if he cared.
Having someone care was a sensation Jenna hadn’t felt for a long time. If ever. She stared down at the suitcases and felt the beginnings of a lump form in her throat.
‘Orange juice,’ Karli said and hopped out of bed. ‘Cool. I didn’t know it came in cans.’
Jenna found herself smiling. ‘I bet that was Maggie’s idea as well,’ she said as Karli lifted the can and inspected it from all angles.
‘Who’s Maggie?’
‘I have no idea,’ Jenna said. ‘But I think she’s a friend.’
But Karli had lost interest. ‘He’s really gone.’ She pulled the ring top and poured two glasses of orange juice with meticulous care. ‘I’ll pour and you choose.’
Jenna watched, chose, and then they sat on the bed and drank their orange juice, two co-conspirators in some exciting plan. That was what it felt like, Jenna thought. For the first time since she’d left England she felt a tiny frisson of excitement. Anticipation even. This was an adventure.
And Riley had brought them orange juice.
Riley had nothing to do with it, she told herself crossly. It was just the combination of events and the lessening of anxiety. This was the Australian Outback. They were safe. In three days they’d get on the train and they’d never see anything like this ever again-so they might as well enjoy themselves.
Their mother was dead.
The thought flashed home with a sickening jolt and she felt a stab of remorse. She was feeling happy-light-and Nicole was dead.
She could hardly feel sorrow, though. Karli had reacted to the news with shock and with fear, but it was because of the way Brian had thrown it at her. And it had been only eight months since Nicole had sent Karli away. Karli still had some concept of Nicole as a mother, even though all the mothering had been done by the hired help. So Karli had been upset.
But for Jenna… Well, she’d been sent away at the same age as Karli. There’d been fleeting sightings when Nicole had been in England, but for Jenna they’d usually been unsettling, even frightening times. They’d been times when the school had been closed for holidays and she’d been thrust, unwanted, into a paparazzi-filled lifestyle where her mother had been sometimes gushing, sometimes vicious, but mostly totally unaware of her daughter at all.
So, no, she didn’t feel sorrow for Nicole. She felt nothing.
Except freedom. And it was a freedom, she told herself. Nicole was no longer around to utter sweeping edicts such as, ‘Karli is not to leave the school.’ Brian didn’t care about Karli. So maybe now Karli had a chance of being happy.
She grinned at the little girl. Karli looked over her glass of juice, and her eyes were huge.
‘Is this an adventure?’ she asked, echoing Jenna’s thoughts, and Jenna grinned some more.
‘I guess it is.’ There was an ancient dresser at the end of the bed, with a cracked mirror above. She stared at their reflection, a rumpled little girl and a woman in an oversized man’s shirt. Her reflection startled her. Her nose and arms were bright pink-waiting until late to make yesterday’s trek hadn’t been enough to protect her English complexion from the harsh Australian sun. Her burnt-red shoulder-length curls were sticking up every which way after going to sleep with them wet. And Karli matched.
She giggled.
‘Look at us,’ she told Karli.
‘I’m Rudolph,’ Karli decided, and giggled in return.
‘So you are, Rudolph Red Nose. Two matching red-nosed tourists, stranded in the middle of the Australian Outback. How much of an adventure is that?’
Karli put her finger on her nose and squashed it, considering. ‘Where do you think Mr Jackson’s gone?’
‘Maybe he’s started work. He said something about unblocking water pipes for his cattle. Let’s go see if he left
