“Mom, that’s totally cool.” Alex gave her a thumbs-up sign making her smile even broader.
“Well done, Billie.” Father raised his glass. “I give you the next big thing, our Billie Stanford, top reporter for the Sydney Morning Herald.”
“Ha, no pressure.” She raised her glass in salute and then took a sip. Why was she was suddenly bashful?
“Well done, Billie.” Hamish smiled and saluted her too, his hastily wrapped finger with the handkerchief waving like a flag.
“Are you sure that finger doesn’t need some attention, Hamish?” Lucy sat forward, poised to help him.
He took the cloth off his finger and inspected it, poking at the bloodied mess. “Guess I’ll live.” He folded the dirty covering and jammed it in his pocket. “So, I don’t suppose he gave you your next assignment yet, did he?”
Billie put her glass down and clasped her hands between her knees, excitement once again building in her chest. “Actually, he wants me to do more on that old house I told you about earlier. I’ve looked into it and there is more there than meets the eye. I need your help, Lucy.”
Lucy gazed at Father with a knowing look before draping an arm casually around Alex, a satisfied smile on her face. “Of course, my dear. Anything. You know you only need to ask.”
“I need to go away for a couple of days and I’m loathe to leave Alex, but there’s no choice really if I’m to do my job.” She swallowed her nerves about leaving her son when Lucy glanced at Alex and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.
“There’s an old house just outside of Singleton that I believe is about three or four hours away from here by car. It’s something of a local attraction from what I can gather. I did a quick stint in the library when Sam first told me about it and the more I research it, the more it intrigues me. It has a sordid past from what I could find out. Reading between the lines, it seemed that mental illness ran in the family and in some way may have contributed to the death of the lady of the house. At least that is what the newspaper reported at the time.” She paused and took a breath, excitement getting the better of her. “Anyway, Sam had a call from the Historical Society and he threw it my way. The owner died quite a few years ago, ten I think, and there’s been some kind of hang-up with probate because of missing relatives or something that couldn’t be found and it’s finally been released. They want me to do a story about it, garner interest before it’s open to the public.” She scrutinised the expectant faces, the excitement building in her voice. “At first Sam thought it was just another house and wasn’t that keen but after seeing the first draft of my story, he’s decided I should go to Singleton and do a much more in depth piece. Maybe even a serialized story if I can find enough details.”
A glass shattered on the floor. Lucy sat rigid on the couch opposite, hands gripped either side of her, a slice of lemon and a solitary ice cube floating in the pool of gin and tonic at her feet. “What’s the name of the house?” Lucy stared at her, a scowl turning the edges of her lips down.
“Lucy?” Father strode across the floor to her side, but she held up her hand, stopping him before he could wrap her in his arms as he always did and attempt to keep the peace between them. He was good at that, always had been too.
“Tell me the name of the house, Billie.”
“Uh, Foxborough Hall, I think, or Foxborough House. I’d have to double-check to be sure. Why? Whatever is wrong? You’re as white as a sheet.”
“Are you sure that’s the name of the property?”
Where this was going? “Well, yes, I’m pretty sure.”
“Did Sam give you the address?” Billie cast a quick glance at Father who stood quietly by the couch, his gaze riveted on the drink in his hand.
“It’s off the main road from Newcastle, a few miles out of Singleton. I can’t remember the name of the road but apparently you can’t miss it. Big house set up on the hill. Turrets and a flag. Jacarandas all down the driveway. Might be a bit overgrown, but I shouldn’t have any trouble finding it according to Sam, who got directions from the old lady who runs the place.”
“You can’t go there. I forbid it.” Lucy stood, brushing off Father’s advances with her shaking hand.
“Excuse me?”
“I forbid it.” Lucy held her hand over her chest.
“Gran, are you okay?” Alex stood up, placing one hand on her shoulder and cast worried glances at his grandfather.
“Of course I am, darling.” She gave Alex a wan smile before looking at Father, sending a quiet signal that Billie couldn’t interpret.
“I must insist you take notice, Billie. That property has horrible connections to our family history that I refuse to discuss. I don’t want you anywhere near it. I’ll call Sam myself and tell him you won’t be able to follow up on the story.” Her fingers toyed with the chain around her neck, the light hitting the gold locket sending a shot of colour to the ceiling.
“No. I’m not letting you dictate my jobs to me.” Since she’d been in Sydney, she hadn’t raised her voice let alone given an opinion on anything worthy, a far cry from the opinionated teenager that she used to be. Time for that to change if her mother was going to start laying down the law.
“I haven’t asked for much from you over the
