I Will Not Run (12 page)

Chapter 16

Winter

Tuesday, 10
th
September

Bruno is deteriorating. He’s getting more aggressive as each day goes by. He’s always angry now. It feels like I’m living with a half-cut snake. I keep this from Dom of course. I pretend to him that nothing much has changed.

Dom is taking my gun phobia very seriously now, too seriously for my liking. He insists we show progress. He reckons that if we don’t start to conquer my phobia, then Bruno will have no reason to keep him come around, and if he’s no longer coming here then how’s he going to keep an eye on me?

I suppose he has a point but every time I see him, all I want to do is take his clothes off. Stuff guns and target practice, let’s just be together. But no, Dom’s always pushing me away, insisting we spend less time snuggling and more time training.

I got a surprise visitor last Thursday. This shy little guy arrived at our gate asking for Bruno. The guy, his name’s Ant, turned up in a truck with blackened windows and a number plate that read, GUARDDOGS4U. Bruno was out, of course, out getting drunk or distributing, or killing someone.

Anyway, the little guy, Ant, turned out to be very sweet. He came to drop off a set of kennels and a large wire dog run the size of a small paddock. After he’d set the lot up way down at the bottom of our property, he was about to drive off again when I ambushed him, stepping out in front of his truck, making it impossible for him to drive anywhere. It is amazing how bold I am these days. I highjacked Ant, insisting he come up to the house for coffee. He was reluctant. Actually, he looked a little scared of me.

I handed him a mug. “You don’t need to stay long,” I promised, “I know you’ll have things to do.”

He agreed.

“It’s just that it gets lonely living this far out.”

Okay, so it was a lie. I wasn’t lonely anymore, not with Dom coming around but I could hardly come outright and ask,
What’s Bruno up to? I need to know, and I need to know now.

He nodded. “I live an hour from town myself. I’m even further out than you but I’m okay with the peace and quiet. I like it actually. And I’ve got customers and the staff milling around me all the time.”

He might have staff and customers but I doubted he had much in the way of a social life. “Well, it’s only Bruno and me here. My husband doesn’t like having people visit. He doesn’t like to be watched, you see.” I had to be careful. I couldn’t say too much, but then again, I needed to gain his confidence if I wanted him to loosen up and talk.

“What about friends. You don’t have any this far out?”

I shook my head. “No. Bruno doesn’t like my old friends from the city anyway.”

He looked down. I could tell that there was a lot he’d like to ask about Bruno, but he knew better. “Your husband hasn’t turned up for one single training session yet.”

I gave him an exasperated smile. “Believe me, I know how difficult my husband can be. Hey, why don’t you sit down?” I said, pointing to a chair. “Stay a moment. Bruno won’t be back till tonight.”

We chatted about his dog training business and that got him relaxed and talking more freely, clearly a favourite subject of his. He told me about the Dobermans he’d be bringing over tomorrow. Ant kept peering at me, like he was worried about something.

“Best keep right away from their cages,” he warned. “Don’t be tempted to let the dogs out when you’re on your own. Not for a good while yet.”

Was he kidding! “I promise I won’t poke my fingers through the wire.”

“Bruno plans to let the dogs out at night, let them roam around the property and guard the place. But don’t worry, he won’t do that till he’s got good control of the boys. And we haven’t even started on that side of things yet.”

I wasn’t too worried about them roaming free because my husband isn’t as brave as he likes to make out, especially not around dangerous animals. He’d be as reluctant as me to free the beasts.

“Tell you what,” Ant promised, “I’ll come back tomorrow and if Bruno’s not here, I’ll exercise the dogs without him and you can watch. You should get to know the dogs anyway.”

I gave him a gushing smile but then let it slide off my face. “You realise that if Bruno
is
here tomorrow, he’ll never let me tag along. He doesn’t let me get involved in anything he does.”

He raised his brows. “Tell you what, give me your number and I’ll ring first. I’ll make sure he’s out before I drive over. You can watch me exercise the boys and he’ll never know a thing.”

I smiled with every muscle I had. “Oh, would you? I’m looking forward to that already.”

I could tell he was too.

Just as he promised, Ant was back with the dogs the following morning. He brought two giant Dobermans: wild, scary things wearing muzzles. As long as he was there, the dogs didn’t worry me one bit because he had incredible control over them. With one word from him, they worked like remote control toys. It was like he flicked a switch and off they went. He exercised them and then settled the dogs into their new home. After he bolted their wire enclosure down for the day, he came over to me, a cloth dangling from his belt.

“Is this yours?” he asked, pulling the material free, dangling it in front of me. “One of the boys found it in that paddock,” he said, shaking the cloth. “Looks like a cardigan. A girl’s top.”

I stared at it.

“It’s pretty,” he said, stretching the woolly garment wide. “Must be yours, see, it’s got little beads on the front.”

I was trying to thank him, trying to lift my arm to take the top but I was having trouble moving, moving anything, even my tongue. I wanted to say that it was sweet of him to notice the detail on the cardigan, and to think of me. Bruno would biff the old cloth not caring who it belonged to, or what it was. But I couldn’t say any of that, because if I opened my mouth, my words would come out wobbly and wet.

Ant looked down at me, puzzled. “Not yours?”

Then his cheeks flushed and he looked away, lowering his arm. The cardigan drooped like a ragdoll from his fingertips.

I knew what he was thinking, could tell from the stricken look on his face.
Oh shit
,
the top belongs to one of Bruno’s town girls
.

“No.” I smiled back, although it took an intolerable amount of effort to do so. Unfortunately though, my smile wasn’t strong enough to stop the tears from falling. They ran down and no matter how hard I bit the insides of cheeks, they just wouldn’t stop coming.

Ant looked at me mortified, his face rosy with embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” I soothed.

The cardigan was still dangling from his fingers. He looked down at it accusingly as if he was suddenly holding fly-blown meat.

I held out my arm. “I’ll take the top. It’s not what you think. I recognise the cardigan, that’s all. It belonged to my little sister. She’s dead now.”

His face puckered and he looked even more distraught than before.

“She was nineteen, so I guess she wasn’t that little but she was very young for her age.”

He was still looking down, studying the grass way too hard.

“She died suddenly nine months ago.”

He thrust the cardigan at me. It was dirty but surprisingly good considering the length of time it had been out in the weather. I suppose it had been tucked somewhere out of the rain.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . .” He had no idea how to finish his sentence.

“Don’t be silly, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just get upset too easily, that’s all.”

“You said it was sudden. When people die suddenly, it’s always hard on those left behind.”

I smiled at him. He was trying so hard to say the right thing.

“Young people dying, that’s always wrong.” Then he went red all over again, like maybe he’d said too much.

“Please don’t feel embarrassed. I don’t mind talking about her, I like it actually. Most people will do anything rather than mention her name.”

He nodded. “A good mate of mine died a few years back. If you feel like talking anytime, that’s okay with me. I’m a really good listener.”

I cried then, embarrassingly loud, wet tears. I didn’t mean to but I just started to fall apart. I think it was his kindness, his sincerity that unhinged me. He was a stranger, a man at that, someone I barely knew and here I was, blubbering to him like a baby. I even made that horrible crying sound with all the sniffing and shaking. Ant sat down on a rock and picked away at the mud on his boots.

“It’s just that I should have looked out for her better. I feel guilty and sad all at the same time.”

I started telling him about Buttercup, about her Asperger syndrome and about that putrid yellow car.

“I chased after her of course, after she drove out of our gate. I knew she’d head down the hill, straight for the gorge. She was on her way home to Mum.”

He said nothing so I just carried on with my story. I was in dangerous territory now. I usually avoided all talk of what happened next, after Buttercup scuttled out of our gate but there was something about this shy, awkward man that made me feel safe and want to blabber on. Something about him told me that he’d keep my confidence. He wasn’t the type that gossiped and he wasn’t judgemental either.

“I found her, only a kilometre or two away, at the foot of the gorge, parked at the side of the road. She’d gotten out of her car and was standing by the front bumper, crying. She’d knocked over a bush turkey and killed it. The turkey must have staggered to the edge of the road then dropped dead. Honestly, most people would have kept on going, but not Buttercup.”

I was rambling now, telling him everything, not even looking to see if he was bored. It was a selfish ramble. If he’d stifled a yawn, I probably wouldn’t have noticed, or cared. Pretty soon, I forgot he was even there. I just talked recalling every detail like it was yesterday, because to me it really was . . .

“Buttercup, thank God you’re okay.” I reached into the driver’s side, pulling the yellow door wide, thinking I’d snatch the keys from her ignition.

“Don’t,” she snapped, slamming her car door closed before my arm got in. “Leave those keys. This is
my
car, not yours.”

“I know, honey. But you’re upset right now. Let me drive you home. I’ll come get your car later.”

She plonked herself in front of the driver’s door, barring the way, her eyes pinched and insistent. “Get away from my car. Bruno gave it to me. I
earned
it.”

“I know.” I was silent a moment, thinking about what she’d just said. After a pause, I turned back to face her, “What do you mean? You said you
earned it
. What do you mean by that, hon?”

She looked down, worried now, twirling her hair over her finger. “You’ll be mad.”

“No I won’t.” I was more worried than angry.

“I promised Bruno I wouldn’t tell you.” She still couldn’t look at me.

My stomach did a big downwards lunge. “We don’t keep secrets from each other, do we Buttercup?”

She shook her head remembering our pact. “If I tell you, you won’t tell Bruno, promise?”

“Don’t tell him what honey?”

“That you know. That I told you the secret.”

“Okay. So tell me.”

“Then I get to keep the car, right?”

This was tricky. I had to find a way around this one. “Maybe.”

She shook her head and pulled open the driver’s door and began to poke her leg in, about to climb in. “Wait. Just tell me the secret and then I’ll let you drive home.”

She pushed me off and plonked herself behind the wheel. I wanted to puke. Just watching her do up her safety belt and adjust the rearview mirror was throwing me into a panic. The secret, what the hell was that about? I had to know it, more than anything.

“Tell me. Hurry up.” I grabbed her arm and twisted. “Tell me, or I won’t let you go.”

I must have pinched her skin because she winced and tried to throw me off. But I wouldn’t let go. “Okay, alright,” she said. “I get the girls from my support group. The young ones, only the young ones. I bring them to Sandstone Manor (that’s the name of my house) and when they get there, they take off their clothes and so do I and Bruno takes photos. Okay, so now I’ve told you. I’m going home.”

I stared at her, suddenly not seeing my baby Buttercup in this strange new girl standing in front of me. “You talk the young girls in your support group into coming here to my home and you tell them to take their clothes off. For Bruno?” Surely I had misunderstood. This couldn’t be right.

She nodded, and fired up the car. I leaned in and grabbed her arm again. “But how do you talk them into doing something like that? Why would they do what you want? And where are their Mum’s?”

“I give the girls money. And I tell them lies. They lie to their Mums too.”

It took all my effort to talk because I was winded and shocked. This was too much. This is not how my sweet darling Buttercup carries on. This is Bruno, all Bruno. Then I snapped. “That’s wrong, Buttercup. So, so wrong.” My voice was rising, my horror and disgust weaving around every word. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” I was screaming now, really screaming and shaking her arm and twisting it too. I’d lost control.

But she was a strong girl and struggled back, shaking me off. “You’re hurting me.”

“Good.” Then something popped into my head. The photos. Those images I’d tried to use to blackmail Bruno. That third girl, the one with her back turned to the camera. How hadn’t I worked it out earlier?

“I saw you, in the photos. Your back was turned. You dirty little thing. Don’t you ever do anything like that . . .”

“Then Buttercup bit down on my arm, hard, and I yelped and pulled my arm away, back through the open window. She swung the car away from the gravel side, back onto the middle of the road and planted her foot flat. She was off, headed for the gorge proper.

“I stood there, and watched her speed away. I was mad, mad as hell, at her, at Bruno and at myself. Most of all, I was mad at myself for letting her anywhere near that evil son of a bitch I call a husband. I let her drive away and I didn’t care if she drove off the cliff and smashed herself to smithereens.