‘You remembered.’ Heidi blinked rapidly, her smile hesitant. ‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted to.’

  ‘We had some good times.’ Rayne opened the door wide. ‘Come in.’

  As her friend entered, Rayne smelled the faintest waft of pine and it made her smile. Heidi was obsessive about cleaning and any time a dinner party had been held at her place, Rayne would smell of the pine disinfectant clinging to her skin for hours afterwards.

  ‘I like what you’ve done with the place,’ Heidi said, following her into the kitchen. ‘It looks completely different.’

  ‘I redecorated after Noel left.’

  She’d had to. She didn’t have enough savings to move and besides, what would be the point? Acacia Haven was small and there were memories of Noel in every part of town. Buying a new house wouldn’t eradicate his cruelty; nothing would. And if he came back, it would be easy enough to find her. So she’d stayed put and changed everything: throwing out every piece of furniture, every scrap of decorating he’d ever had a hand in. Then she’d had the whole place repainted, new cabinetry installed, and a total interior design makeover, doing whatever it took to wipe him from her life. If only it were so easy to wipe her mind of the haunting memories.

  Heidi cast her a hesitant glance as she laid the platter on the counter and handed over the wine. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  Rayne stiffened, knowing what was coming. She’d faced this question from countless curious locals after Noel absconded and had practised giving a convincing answer. Most had believed her because this close-knit community had always embraced her. And those who didn’t … well, they had a knowing glint in their eyes, like they suspected there was more behind Noel’s sudden departure but were too polite to delve.

  ‘Shall I open the wine first?’

  Heidi nodded, but hadn’t lost the speculative gleam in her eyes. ‘What happened with you and Noel? You seemed like the perfect couple.’ She hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip. ‘I used to be jealous of you. Bert never looked at me the way Noel looked at you.’

  Rayne willed her hands not to shake as she unscrewed the cap and poured healthy sloshes into two glasses. ‘How did he look at me?’

  ‘Like he adored you. Like he wanted to be wherever you were. Like he couldn’t take his eyes off you, and that was after years of marriage.’

  Rayne had two choices. Give Heidi the answer she expected: ‘Yes, I was so lucky, having a man want to be with me every second of every day when he wasn’t at work.’ Or she could tell her old friend the truth.

  Unsure, she downed half a glass of pinot, and as Heidi quirked an eyebrow, Rayne knew she was done pretending.

  Heidi had reached out to her after all these years. They’d been inseparable once and Rayne trusted her. Her irrational jealousy aside—jealousy Bert appeared to have fuelled—Heidi had once been her best friend. And if they were moving forward with this crazy online dating idea, Heidi needed to know the truth.

  ‘Noel did want to be with me twenty-four seven.’

  ‘You lucky thing.’ Heidi raised her glass. ‘Here’s to us both finding a man exactly like Noel—’

  ‘Hell no!’

  Heidi jumped and wine sloshed over the rim of her glass and onto the counter, reminding Rayne of a crimson spill in the very same spot two decades ago.

  The back door slammed and Rayne braced against the breakfast bar, every muscle in her body urging her to run. But she couldn’t. She had Summer to think of, Summer to protect, and with police resources at his fingertips, Noel would find them, no matter how far she ran, how hard she tried to hide.

  These days, she could tell what kind of mood Noel would be in after work by how hard that door shut and tonight the windows had rattled with the force of his slam. Thank goodness Summer was at a sleepover at Karlana’s, because Rayne feared the older Summer got, the higher the chance she might notice something amiss with her father. At ten, Summer was smarter than most kids her age and Rayne constantly scanned the interactions between father and daughter to see any signs of animosity. But Summer still adored her dad and the feeling appeared mutual. The problem was, Rayne couldn’t trust Noel and his trigger temper, not anymore.

  She continued to prep dinner as she heard him toe off his boots by the back door, the heavy thud as he kicked them away making her pulse skitter. It didn’t take much to set him off these days so she aimed to make his favourite meals every night. Tonight, beef stroganoff, even though the smell of sour cream set her teeth on edge.

  ‘Hey, what’s for dinner?’ he called out as he changed in the bedroom, leaving his uniform draped over a chair. He’d expect her to hang it up later.

  ‘Beef stroganoff.’

  She’d learned to keep her answers short, because saying the wrong thing was enough to precipitate an angry outburst. He didn’t always hit her and when he did, it was on parts of her body she could hide. The esteemed Noel Horne was too smart to leave bruises where outsiders would raise questions. Then again, he didn’t have to strike her to hurt. He inflicted more pain with his cruel putdowns than the occasional fist.

  ‘Where did you get the meat?’ He stomped into the kitchen and she struggled not to flinch as he came up behind her.

  ‘The butcher. I asked Ross for the best cut—’

  Her head exploded in a white hot burst of agony as he grabbed her hair and slammed his other hand on top of hers where it rested on a chopping board as she prepared a salad, driving the sharp knife into her palm.

  ‘You know he has a thing for you. Why the fuck would you shop there?’ His hand gripping her hair tugged hard, snapping her head back so he could lean down and murmur in her ear, ‘Stick to the supermarket like I told you.’

  He released her, grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed into the lounge room, leaving her staring at the deep gash in her palm and a spreading blood slick on the counter. Tears burned her eyes but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. He got off on it; liked seeing her cowering, under his control.

  Instead, she wrapped a tea towel around her palm and wiped away the blood with the other, hoping that one day she’d be the one to spill his.

  ‘Rayne! Are you okay? You’re as white as a ghost.’ Heidi wrapped her arm around Rayne’s waist and Rayne baulked, shrugging her off, unable to control the shaking that started at her feet and travelled up her body.

  ‘Rayne? What’s going on?’ Heidi took a step back, eyeing her warily. ‘I’m worried about you.’

  ‘I—I don’t feel so good.’ She wished Heidi would leave. Leave her alone to … what? Wallow in her bitterness? Pretend she still didn’t have nightmares? Try to distract from the awful memories with mindless sitcom reruns?

  ‘Come sit down.’

  This time when Heidi slid an arm around her waist, Rayne allowed her to guide her to the lounge room and onto the sofa.

  ‘Do you want a glass of water?’

  ‘Bring the wine, the whole bottle.’

  Her dry response eased the worry pinching Heidi’s mouth. ‘Okay, be back in a sec.’

  Rayne slumped into the sofa, resting her head against the back, and closed her eyes. Could she do this? Dredge up awful memories best left in the past? But if she was serious about resurrecting this friendship with Heidi she’d need to tell her friend. Besides, after her overreaction a moment ago about finding a man like Noel, Heidi must know something was up.

  Rayne had seen a counsellor in Inverloch a few times after Noel had left, but found the sessions left her feeling worse. Spewing her hatred for the man to a stranger hadn’t eased the pain eating away at her soul. Time had done that and with each passing day that melded into weeks with Noel not returning like she’d half-expected, she started to unwind. The day she signed the divorce papers she could finally breathe again. Noel was her past and she had to look forward to the future.

  But he’d left sixteen years ago and here she was, still having flashbacks when she least expected it, single and lonely and terrified to let a man near her again. Offloading to Heidi before they started this dating caper would be the rational thing to do.

  Heidi entered the lounge with the wine bottle and two clean glasses, wariness clouding her eyes. Rayne didn’t blame her.

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’ Heidi carefully placed the pinot and glasses on the coffee table, like she expected Rayne to sweep the lot onto the floor.

  ‘No, thanks.’ Rayne patted the cushion beside her. ‘Come sit.’

  Heidi perched on the edge of the cushion, as if ready for a speedy getaway and Rayne laughed.

  ‘I won’t bite, Heids.’

  ‘You worried me.’ She relaxed slightly, easing back onto the sofa. ‘I thought you’d had a stroke or something. Your eyes went blank and you were as white as the walls.’

  Rayne took a steadying breath. Here went nothing. ‘I had a flashback.’

  ‘About Noel?’

  Rayne nodded. ‘Hearing you sing his praises, how we should be so lucky to find men like him now … it took me back.’

  ‘But why would that make you …’ Heidi trailed off, a glint of awareness in her eyes. ‘What did he do?’

  ‘What didn’t he do?’ Rayne scrubbed a hand over her face before continuing. ‘Noel was a controlling, manipulative, abusive bastard, and our marriage finally ended when I recorded one of his explosions and threatened to out him to everyone, including his precious bloody police department, unless he left for good.’

  Heidi’s mouth dropped open in shock as she slumped against the cushions. ‘But he adored you … he was always so charming …’

  ‘Not always.’

  Her dry response snapped Heidi out of her shock and she gave a little shake of her head. ‘I never had any inkling—hell, I resented you for having such a perfect husband.’ A blush stained Heidi’s cheeks. ‘I wanted to be you.’

  ‘Count your lucky stars you weren’t,’ Rayne said. ‘I’ve never told anybody, including Summer, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t repeat what I’ve just said.’

  ‘I’m the only person you’ve confided in after all this time?’

  ‘I saw a psychologist a few times after he left but dredging it all up made me feel worse.’

  ‘Is that why you don’t date?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty much.’

  Heidi’s wide-eyed gaze focussed on her. ‘When you say abusive, was it verbal? Or … more …’

  ‘When I pretended to grow immune to his insults he resorted to shoving me around, grabbing me, that kind of thing. He hit me a few times, but only where people wouldn’t see the bruises.’

  ‘Oh, Rayne.’ Tears filled Heidi’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. ‘I’m so, so, sorry you went through that. And that I had no idea. What kind of a shitty friend does that make me?’

  ‘The shittiest,’ Rayne deadpanned, opening her arms as her friend started to cry in earnest.

  Rayne sniffled too, but she’d cried enough tears over that prick. Besides, revealing the truth to Heidi left her feeling lighter than she had in ages. Confessing had been cathartic and maybe having someone to confide in would make this whole healing process easier moving forward.

  When they eased apart, Heidi swiped at her eyes, leaving mascara streaks to the hairline at her temples. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there for you back then.’

  ‘How? He’d already threatened that if I told anyone he’d hurt Summer and she was the only reason I put up with him for so long. If I’d told you, you would’ve told Bert and the whole disaster would’ve blown up in my face.’

  Heidi grimaced. ‘It makes my blood boil to think of what he put you through behind closed doors, then would sit at my dining table, pretending like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, the bastard.’ Heidi reached out and clasped her hand. ‘I know there’s nothing I can say now that will change the past, but know this: moving forward, you’re stuck with me. I’m here for you, whatever you need. If you want to offload, talk, rant, scream, any time, day or night, I’m here for you, okay?’

  Rayne quashed the urge to blubber as she turned her hand over and squeezed her friend’s. ‘Thanks. I’m glad you’re here, Heids.’

  ‘Me too.’

  They smiled at each other, a tentative healing of a fractured friendship. Who knew, with Heidi’s help, Rayne might have a chance of moving forward with her life.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Summer had been right. Jy had expected a commune-style setup, but Serenity was far from that. The houses here were surprisingly modern, nothing like the rundown hippy vibe he thought he’d find. They reminded him of similar block housing springing up around the inner suburbs of Melbourne—Collingwood, North Melbourne, Brunswick—where young professionals thought it trendy to live in small enclaves with a community garden. But those places didn’t boast the solar panels and windmills Serenity did.

  ‘Stop gaping,’ Summer said, bumping him with her shoulder. ‘Go on, admit it, you thought we lived in tents.’

  ‘With a central fire pit for those virgin sacrifices,’ he said, and she laughed. He liked her laugh: bold, loud, indelicate, and nothing like some of the women he’d dated, who’d titter politely but the mirth never quite reached their eyes.

  ‘Again with the virgins. Obsessed, much?’

  Her quirked eyebrows drew his attention to the blueness of her eyes again. Eyes he could easily get lost in given half a chance. The thought alone was enough to have him refocussing on the task at hand.

  ‘Where do the kids hang out here? Is there a park? Some kind of community hall?’

  She let his change of subject slide, thankfully. In the short time he’d known her, he’d come to like sparring way too much. Summer may be easy on the eyes but give him a woman with intelligent wit and he was a goner. He’d been a sly prick throwing out that comment about a steamy fling earlier. Testing the waters. He’d wanted to see her reaction, to see if she’d admit to liking him too. He’d put himself on the line, something he would never normally do, but since he wouldn’t be in town beyond the four weeks, why not have some after-hours fun if she felt this attraction too?

  But she’d deflected and he’d let her. One of them had to be smart. Because mixing business with pleasure while he tried to gather information to write an impartial report was a dumbarse move. In a town this size, it wouldn’t earn him any favours, hooking up with the local darling. He’d seen the way some people had greeted her as they’d strolled around the community, with genuine warmth and pleasure to see her. She’d been born here, raised here, and he’d be better off remembering it.

  ‘There’s a park at the far end of the acreage but the kids who live around here tend to hang out at the beach, at the cove mostly.’

  He nodded. ‘I saw a lot of kids there this morning, when they should’ve been in school.’

  Sadness clouded her eyes and he wished he could eradicate it. He’d always had a knight-in-shining-armour complex. ‘There’s only so much Jill and Hugo can do. They try to make the curriculum as interesting as possible, and relevant to locals, but when the surf’s up that’s where a lot of the older kids will be.’

  ‘Hence the awful year twelve results.’

  ‘You can’t force kids to do something they don’t want to do, something that seems irrelevant to them, when all they want to do is follow in their parents’ footsteps.’ She shrugged, like it meant little, but he saw how much it cost her to admit a major problem around here. ‘Ninety-five percent of the kids in school live here in Serenity so most want to stick around here, doing odd jobs, getting by on a minimum wage, but not caring because they’re living their best life, carefree and unencumbered by mortgages and car loans like many young adults their age in the city.’

  Jy couldn’t imagine not having goals when he’d been younger. He’d striven to get good grades because it meant moving out and into university accommodation, far from the frosty atmosphere at home. He’d wanted a car and house and knew in order to get those things he’d have to work his arse off at uni to get a decent teaching job. Even then, it had taken him years to get into the private system and, once at Korrungal, he’d made sure he worked harder and longer than anyone in the years he’d taught there to make principal at such a young age. He’d been proud to hold the title of youngest principal in Melbourne and at thirty-five, he thought he’d had it made.

  Now, a year later, here he was, stuck in the back of beyond, about to tear down the one institution that kept some of these kids educated. If they had to travel to Inverloch and beyond, would they even bother? Doubtful, and highlighting some of these problems in his report would be a priority. He’d make sure the department got the broader picture before swinging their proverbial axe.

  ‘What about you? You never wanted to move away?’

  ‘No.’

  A curt rebuttal that implied he shouldn’t ask more, but he couldn’t quash his curiosity.

  ‘You mentioned going to boarding school in Melbourne? I take it that wasn’t your idea?’

  She snorted, an unladylike sound as honest as her laugh, and he bit back a smile. ‘My mum caught me kissing a local boy and freaked, but that was nothing on my dad’s reaction. He lost it, completely. He left us a week later, then Mum had me at High Street Grammar within the month after she pulled strings with an old friend who got me a scholarship.’

  ‘That’s a good school.’

  ‘It might be if you’re into designer denim, four-figure purses and artfully applied streaks that cost more than my entire wardrobe.’

  He heard the bitterness in her declaration and could imagine how hard it must’ve been for her. Despite him running a tightly disciplined school he knew the scholarship kids copped it from their wealthier counterparts, kids who didn’t work hard because they had their parents’ fortune to fall back on even if they failed everything. He strove to instil respect in his kids but there was only so much he could do in school hours. Who knew what went on when he turned his back?

  ‘You didn’t fit in.’