Ember Flowers (16 page)

“Oh Jean..you
bad, bad woman..hot mother?”

She gave him a
glare as she opened her car door and slid into the seat, a click of
her seat belt.

“No. You filthy
boy. I’m tagging along, lunch date with her and her little
girl.”

***

She didn’t
usually come to this part of the city, designer stores and cafes,
little restaurants tucked away. Milling pedestrians and the rich
smell of coffee. Jean found a car park nearby and made her way
through to the busy street. She walked along the uneven pave, a few
doors down to a fresh food grocer, bright apples and pears polished
to a shine. A flutter of pony tailed hair and she saw Jo, paying at
the register, inspecting an orange with a little blonde toddler.
They did look very similar, the little girl was scrutinising the
fruit with big blue eyes. It was common for the mother and daughter
to shop here on Jo’s days off. Always fresh and not far from
home.

A click of her
heels as she approached, Jo looked up, sensing her in her
peripheral vision. A bright smile from the blonde, but no other
endearments. Jean correctly surmised that the policewoman didn’t
like public displays of affection. Never the less, seeing her again
brought butterflies.

“Jean, hi.”
With a hum of her warm feminine voice.

“Hello.”

Jo’s eyes
glanced over her.
She probably did look different out of her
usual work attire.
Spruced up for the occasion, a touch of
makeup here and there to highlight her warm smoky eyes.

The little girl
clung to Jo’s summer dress covered thigh. The policewoman had the
legs for it. A pretty shade of cornflower blue, fitted around the
waist.

“Annabelle
sweetie? This is Jean, Mummy’s friend.” With that Jo gave the
cashier a courteous nod, hefting the bags and stepping out onto the
paving. “Sorry Jean, just wanted to grab this while I could, my day
is spread a little thin.” Blowing a little wisp of blonde hair out
of her eyes with two full hands.

“That’s fine. I
do insist on carrying those for you though, just show me where
you’re parked?”

The older woman
went to reach for them, but Jo looked like a dog with a bone,
reluctant to let go. Her voice firmly in cop mode. “I’m fine.
Really it’s OK.” She liked to do things her own way, usually not
wanting to accept help. She nodded in the direction of her car.

They walked
along the paving, to a large four way intersection. A squad car
rolled by, neither had noticed. Jo was preoccupied with listening
to her daughter telling Jean about play school. The road was thick
with traffic passing through, little legs would struggle to catch
up. The green man on the crossing would soon be blinking red. With
a quick glance at the Sergeant for permission, Jean picked up the
little girl and settled her on her hip. Walking across the
crosswalk was less dangerous this way, and Annabelle didn’t seem to
mind, grasping handfuls of her shirt.

As soon as they
reached the other side, Jean set her down on her feet. A brisk nod
of thanks from the toddler’s mother.

The
café
spilled out onto the
pavement, tables and chairs on the grey and brown cobbling. They
found a booth toward the back, dark green faux leather and turned
wood. Jo’s daughter played with a napkin, while her mother looked
through the menu. A lock of blonde hair was swept behind her ear. A
glance in Jean’s direction. The gardener smiled at her, the skin
crinkling slightly around her eyes.

“So, any
hobbies Jo?”

The blonde
smiled with rouged lips, a glance at the toddler, an affectionate
ruffle of her silvery hair to get her attention. “No, looking after
this one can be a full time job, when I’m not at my actual
job.”

“You look after
her most of the time?” She tried to figure out where Owen fitted in
all of this. If he was still a part of the girl’s life.

A sigh. “Most
of the time. Her father sees her sometimes, little outings here and
there. I have to - he’s her father. We have an agreement in place.
The rest of the time my mother keeps an eye on her when I
can’t.”

Jean nodded,
swishing her straw.
How does that agreement work if he hurts
you?

The blonde
thought to herself. “Actually. I like to cook. Does that count as a
hobby?”

It came out
before her brain processed it. “I think so. Well, you can cook for
me whenever you like. I’m hopeless at it.”

Joanne’s brow
quirked. “Maybe I will sometime?”

A hand settled
on Jean’s knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The
little girl’s voice broke the gaze between them. Their food had
arrived. The hand left her knee, taking with it the warmth that had
infused into her body.

At that moment
Jean’s phone rang. Not expecting a call, and seeing the number was
blocked from view, she ignored it, putting it back in her pocket. A
smile shared between them. The phone rang again. Jo looked up at
her, Jean frowned apologetically. “Sorry Jo, maybe I should take
this?” She stood to excuse herself, after a curt nod from the
blonde.

“Be back in a
moment.”

She stood
outside, away from the tables and the occasional shopper walking
past. Touching the little answer button on the display.

“Hello?
Patterson Landscaping.”

A voice she
didn’t recognise. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Jean shifted
her weight on her heels. “Excuse me?”

A gruff
clearing of a throat, the sound of traffic. “My wife. I still
remember when she bought that dress.”


Owen.

“How did you
get this number?”

An amused huff.
“It’s on the side of your car. It’s outside your office. Wasn’t
difficult.”

She felt a
chill up her spine, followed by an annoyance. “Keeping tabs on me
Owen?”

“Of course. I
needed to know if you were going to be a problem.”

“Well, I’m
having a lovely time, just in case you wanted to know.”

A sound of an
upholstered seat squeaking. The draw of a cigarette and soft breath
over the speaker. “I’m only going to warn you once. And you know
what I’m going to say.”

“..And what are
you going to say? Going to rough me up too?”

A pause. “No.
Turn around and look at them.”

“What?”

“Just do it,
look at them.”

She turned and
looked down the rows of tables and busy waitresses at Jo, the
blonde was chatting with her daughter, offering her a sip of her
iced tea.

A cool tone in
her ear. “They look good together, don’t they? If you want to keep
it that way, leave them alone.”

Jean’s lip
pulled into an angry sneer. “Jo’s going to hear about this as soon
as I go back inside..”

He chuckled
smugly. “I thought you might say that. Keep in mind if you do, that
your handsome friend Scott and his lovely wife will have more than
a little mishap in the ocean to worry about.”

It made all the
hair on her neck stand up. She spoke quietly into the phone. “You
leave them alone.”

“So angry? Are
all dykes like that?”

Her teeth
gritted. “You’re a pig Owen, and a bully.”

He grunted
softly into the speaker in distaste. “I prefer to think I’m a
loving husband. I take offence to you screwing my wife in some
sleazy hotel room.”

“It wasn’t like
that.”

“Whatever. Back
off. Don’t be stupid. I see you around her again, and I will be
watching..Jo will have to send her daughter postcards..and Scott
might have an unfortunate accident.” His voice grew measured and
deliberate. “Do we understand each other?”

She glanced
inside again. Jo was looking at her from across the tables inside.
Her face fell, she couldn’t put her in danger.

“Yes.”

“Good
girl.”

The click as he
hung up made the blood drain from her face. “Bastard.”

Jean watched
mother and daughter.
He was watching her, he’d know if she
stayed.
The call had filled her with dread.

She looked
around, Jean couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. She
trudged back in slowly and found Jo looking up at her
expectantly.

Her eyes misted
without her realising, her throat thick. “Jo, I’m so sorry, I’ve
been called back to the office. I can’t stay.”

Grey eyes
looked crestfallen, perhaps more than Jo realised. “Oh? Well,
that’s a shame, sure you can’t call Scott?”

Scott. He’d
hurt him too.
“Scott’s out too. Really. I have to go. I’m sorry
Jo.”

Jo frowned,
then she patted her daughter’s arm. The little face looked up at
her too. “Annabelle, Jean has to go, say goodbye OK?”

“Bye.” A soft
voice and a wave, still looking at her. Jo stood, pulling her into
a friendly hug. She gasped softly when Jean squeezed her tightly,
as though she’d never see her again. The older woman pulled away,
kissing her cheek with a sad look in her eyes.

“Joanne, I had
a lovely time. I’m sorry I can’t stay.” Jean turned and left
abruptly, leaving the blonde standing there confused.

Jean wanted to
yell, to hit something.
It was so unfair.
Clicks of her
heels and a sniffle as she turned the corner and walked to her car.
She reefed the door open and slumped down with a graceless
thud.

Chapter
24

Jo hung up the
phone with a soft sigh. The second time she’d tried this afternoon,
and still no answer. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t get a hold of
Jean. She was usually so prompt to answer emails, quick to answer
texts with something sweet or flirty. She was getting used to
seeing a message in the morning after a few days apart, wishing her
a good day with a little kiss.

The last couple
of weeks, her texts and emails had gone unanswered. Hearing back
only once, a brief message.

Jo

You’re
beautiful. I’m sorry.

Jean

At that she
knew something was wrong.

Finally, she
decided to call Jean’s office, maybe she’d answer there. The phone
rang, three rings and it was picked up.

“Patterson
Landscaping, Scott speaking.”

“Scott, hi,
it’s Joanne.”

“Oh, Jo, hi.
How are you?”

She fiddled
with a button on her skirt. “I’m OK Scott. Could I talk to
Jean?”

There was a
pause on the line. “Hi Jo, sorry she’s in a meeting. Do you want to
leave a message?”

She sighed.
“No, it’s OK Scott, I’ll email her. Listen, is she OK? I haven’t
heard from her in a while?”

The man was
quiet for a moment. “She has seemed kinda weird Jo, but she won’t
talk about it.”

“Is she OK?”
She repeated, her voice concerned.

He seemed in a
sudden hurry. “OK. Well, nice to hear from you again Jo.”


“Thanks,
bye.”

“Bye.”

The blonde
straightened up in front of her laptop. Sitting outside on the deck
at her mother’s house. Annabelle played nearby. She began to write,
both anger and sadness laced in her words. Short and succinct as
she usually was. It came from years of writing reports.

Jean,

Why aren’t you
answering your phone? Your texts? Have I done something wrong? I
can’t think of anything.

Joanne

She didn’t
expect an answer, at least not so soon, but her inbox pinged
softly.

Jo,

Sweetheart, no.
I just..can’t. I’m sorry.

Jean

Those same
words.
She was sorry.
Jo sniffled, she wiped her eyes
angrily.

Jean,

Help me
understand, what happened?

Is this some
sort of game to you? Seduce me, have me bare my soul to you and
then just ignore me? I feel like I’ve been thrown away.

Is it my
daughter? I don’t expect you to jump in head first, but I thought
at least you understood. I was attracted to your maturity, your
kindness. You made me feel so wanted. Maybe I was wrong?

Jo.

She closed her
laptop angrily. The force made Annabelle turn to look up at her. Jo
broke off her frosty expression immediately, smiling at her little
girl. Her daughter ran over, reaching up to be pulled into her lap,
wanting to play. Jo busied herself with being a mother. At least
that made sense.

***

Scott looked up
from his paperwork after hearing the gasped sob come from the other
office. He stood and walked down the small carpeted hall. He was
surprised to see Jean sketching on her notepad and taking notes,
seemingly business as usual.

His knuckles
rapped softly on the door, she looked up, he could see her teeth
gritting. It wasn’t a good sign.

“Jean, you
OK?”

She grabbed a
stack of paperwork, and began sorting. Her lips were pinched.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He crossed his
arms as he leant on the doorframe. “You seem weird lately Jean?
Hardly say two words to me anymore.”

Her dark eyes
looked up and then flitted back to her screen, she clicked her
mouse at something. “Weird huh? Maybe I just don’t feel like
talking?”

Scott walked in
and sat down in the chair across from her. “I know you don’t like
to bring personal stuff to the office, and that’s fine. But it’s
just us Jean, we can talk, right?”

She stopped
what she was doing and sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You’re
right, I’m sorry Scottie, it’s nothing to do with you.”

He reached over
and played with her pen, turning it over in his hands. “What then?
You won’t talk to your girlfriend either?”

Her eyes closed
for a moment, her brows knotting. “She’s not my girlfriend
Scott.”

Scott shrugged
his shoulders. “She seems to care about you? She called before,
I’ve been hearing your phone going off, then you go and sulk
somewhere. Something happen?”

Jean sighed.
“Yeah. Something like that.”