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17
Hazel had gone up to her bedroom on Arnold’s orders after the policewoman left. She’d run herself a warm bath, sank into the water, and tried to let her worries float away. If only it were that easy.
Now, curled up on the sofa in the lounge at the front of Heritage View House, she had a mug of tea clasped between her palms but when she took a sip, she pulled a face. It had gone cold. Arnold had made it for her the last time he popped his head in before going back out to the stables to take care of the necessary tasks – the horses’ care couldn’t wait.
Hazel knew that horrible man was in police custody now and so the sound of a vehicle pulling up wouldn’t be him. She assumed it was someone who had come for a lesson, even though she was sure Arnold had cancelled any that were scheduled for the rest of that day. But when she looked outside and saw her dad’s car, she ran from her place in the lounge and straight to the front door, which she flung open.
Barefoot, she ran out to him. She fell into his arms, felt his strong hold and presence and soothing voice.
And right now, there was no need to say anything. He was here. She was safe.
* * *
Thomas had always been a patient man. When Hazel was little and struggled to ride a bike, something her friends took to with ease, he hadn’t forced her to keep trying when she didn’t want to, when she’d rather get onto a horse and do all the things she knew she could do. He’d known that over time it would come, and the best thing he could do was stand back and bide his time, that his daughter would soon sort it out for herself. It wasn’t all that different today as her dad waited for Hazel to tell him everything, cry out her feelings, let her fears of failure and frustration be fully aired at long last. He let her ramble on about how seeing Levi fall that day had made her doubt her ability to keep anyone safe, let alone a minor. She went on and on about how she missed teaching, how she loved to see a beginner’s progress, but how big a leap it was to try again. He listened while she told him about Abigail, a girl she would love to teach but had refused to up until now out of fear she’d not keep her safe, out of worry that she couldn’t be supportive when she didn’t feel strong enough herself.
The sun began to set. The rain had stopped, puddles pooled outside in any part of the ground that wasn’t entirely even, but the horses in the paddocks looked happy enough as Hazel gazed out of the window. She’d cried all the tears she needed to now, blurted out everything she’d been holding back for so long. And with her eyes red and sore, she asked about her mum. Her dad had apparently come straight here, and with her mum out for the day on a hack with a friend, there was no time to wait behind and explain.
‘I called her on the way up here to tell her what was going on. She’ll be worried, but she knows I’ve got you.’
‘I’ll call her in a bit.’
‘She’ll want an update,’ Thomas smiled. ‘But only when you’re ready.’
She’d thought she was done talking about it, but the words tumbled out again. ‘It was horrible, Dad. That man.’
‘I know, love.’ He put an arm around her, let her lean her head on his dependable shoulder.
‘I didn’t expect it; he’s not shown his face in years. I never forgot him or Levi, but I never thought I’d have to see him ever again.’ She toyed with an almost-disintegrated tissue between her fingers.
He let her words sink in before he offered to make them a cup of tea each.
She followed him to the kitchen. ‘I happen to know that there’s a box of clotted cream shortbread at the back of the larder cupboard.’
He rubbed his stomach before picking up the kettle to fill. ‘That is music to my ears. From the Twist and Turn Bakery?’
‘Good guess.’ She took out two mugs while her dad filled the kettle and set it to boil. ‘They were a gift to me from one of the ladies I teach. She dropped them off yesterday and I thought I’d save them for something special. And you being hereisspecial, no matter the circumstances.’
‘I’m sorry we don’t visit more often.’
‘Dad, you’ve got your own lives.’ Hazel found the shortbread. ‘Arnold and I are the same here, we have our own business and lives, so we don’t get a chance to come down to you either. But it’s nice to know you’re only a phone call away.’ She proffered the box of shortbread and as Thomas took one, she left the cardboard box open on the table for them both to help themselves.
‘When Arnold called, he sounded distraught.’ Thomas filled the mugs with water on top of the tea bags and added milk to each, no sugar. ‘He talks to me a lot about you.’
‘He does?’
‘He worries about his little sister.’ They sat at the kitchen table on chairs next to each other at an angle. ‘What you went through was terrible back then and for it all to rear its ugly head now?’ He shook his head, unable to find quite the right word to describe it. ‘I’ll go and see him in a bit. I texted him already, so he knows I’m in here with you. He’ll be giving us space and seeing to the horses as a priority.’
‘As it should be,’ Hazel smiled. ‘And he really has been brilliant through all of this, it’s not often he lets his frustration show, even though he’s been carrying the load, with me picking and choosing who I think I’m able to teach.’ Tabitha gave Hazel a fright when she jumped up onto her lap. She stroked the cat from head to tail as the feline settled into position.
‘You’re a team, that’s why.’ He complimented the shortbread and reached for a second piece, but this time he didn’t start eating it straight away. ‘Hazel, I’ve a bit of a confession to make.’
Tabitha was dribbling on Hazel’s knee as she jutted out her chin and Hazel continued to rub her fingers beneath. ‘Go on,’ she urged when her dad stayed quiet.
‘It’s about that man. Ewan.’
Hearing his name sent a shudder cascading through Hazel. Calling him ‘that man’ made it easier to dissociate herself from him.
With a deep breath, Thomas wound back more than a couple of years, to the aftermath of what happened. ‘I wanted to help in any way I could after the accident.’
