Clare Houston - An Unquiet Place

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Hannah Harrison escapes her stalled life in Cape Town for a small-town bookshop in the Free State. A concentration-camp journal from the South African War, found in a dusty box of old stock, reveals the life of Rachel Badenhorst, a young girl separated from her family and enduring the crushing hardship of war. Hannah becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to Rachel. Coveting the young girl’s courage and endurance, she is compelled to uncover Rachel’s story, never thinking it will lead her to pick open the wounds of a local farmer and dig up old tragedies, unearthing grief that even the land has held on to for over a century.

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She smiled wryly at him and slid her arms into the sleeves, zipping it up to her neck and lifting her hips to pull it under her buttocks. The hem came to mid-thigh, hiding the denim shorts she had on underneath. He found the sight of her in his top with bare legs below unsettling. Erotic. He amended his earlier thoughts. In moments like these, he did miss sex. A picture of pulling her across to him and pressing her down into the seat blossomed in his mind, and he smothered it before he lost control, his fingers clenched over the steering wheel. They were quiet for a while, Alistair pushing thoughts away and trying to focus on the road in front of him.

‘You tell a good story,’ she said quietly. ‘Have you ever thought of taking people on tours, I mean professionally?’

He glanced across at her. ‘We did think about it once, when we were first married. We were so full of ideas. We planned on opening a guest house and running battlefield tours on horseback.’

‘What happened?’ She sensed his unwillingness to go on, to cast a shadow on the afternoon. ‘You don’t have to tell me, Alistair. Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.’

He looked across at her again. ‘No, it’s okay.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It took a few years to register as a guide and set up the business. Plans had been passed to build on the farm. By the time it was all coming together, Marilie had a breakdown. She couldn’t come to terms with not being able to conceive. She blamed me. Hated herself. I decided to shelve the whole business and keep things simple. And then she was killed. And the nightmare began. I had nothing left. I mean, I had no reserves to take on anything new. Or anyone.’

‘And then I come and push you around,’ said Hannah.

‘No,’ he said, wanting the remorse in her eyes gone. ‘Then eight years passed and I should have got over my mistrust of strangers. And women.’ He lowered his voice to a mutter, ‘And especially strange women.’ He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road but feeling her surprised glance.

‘Hey!’ she objected, poking him in the arm. ‘I heard that. I’m well-versed in men, you know.’ His sardonic look had her laughing. ‘I mean, I’ve had years of managing my aggravating bloody brother.’

Alistair liked the tone of this banter better. ‘What’s your brother’s story?’

‘Joseph? He’s older than me. He has a brilliant mind and is the rising star in his archaeology department at Cambridge. He’s been the golden boy in our family since he was born. Of course he crawled, walked, talked, and began reading way before other children. My parents call him gifted.’

‘And he’s not?’

‘He is very bright, but I think his giftedness is more along the lines of making people love him. It’s much easier to be successful if everybody thinks you’re amazing. I am disappointingly average, and my mother hasn’t ever really known what to do with me.’ He glanced across at her to gauge her mood and met her eyes. She was smiling; she had taken on this picture of herself.

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Alistair. ‘You speak at least two languages fluently, maybe more?’ He glanced across at her and saw her nod. ‘More? What else?’

Hannah kept her eyes on the road and said lightly, ‘I picked up some French and a bit of German. A smattering of Dutch, but that doesn’t really count – it’s so close to Afrikaans. Nothing extraordinary.’

‘But you can converse in them?’ She nodded. ‘Read them?’ She nodded again, and he burst out laughing. ‘Hannah! You are completely nuts! Add to that, you’re doing your PhD at a prestigious university. You move on your own to a strange town, pick up a new business, and within days you have a legion of fans throughout the town, my parents among them. This is in no way average on any front.’

Hannah looked at him in surprise. ‘I am bunking out on my PhD; I’m flying by the seat of my pants in the shop; and “fan” is a strong word. But that aside, it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.’

He glanced from the road and took in her bemused smile, thinking it was a sorry indictment of the people in her life. ‘And Joseph’s position at the moment?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘I’m not entirely sure – he says he’s taking a break for a few weeks and can help us with our investigation into the Goshen camp. Are you free to meet and talk about a way forward?’

Alistair noted she had made the investigation sound like a team effort. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that. It made him more than the reluctant landowner he actually was. On the other hand, it would mean time with her.

‘My sister arrives this weekend from Cape Town. She’s on leave over Christmas, but I’m around.’

They pulled up outside the bookshop and Alistair walked Hannah to her gate.

‘Thank you for the lift home,’ she said with a smile. ‘And for the afternoon. It was wonderful. All of it.’

He caught her arm as she turned to open the gate, arresting her movement. ‘Hannah.’ His hand slipped down her arm. He held his breath at the feel of her skin beneath his hand.

She looked at their hands joined. ‘We managed to get through a whole afternoon without fighting,’ she said lightly.

He knew what he wanted to say, but it was an act of will to speak the words out loud. ‘Hannah… I’d like to see more of you.’

She looked up and raised an eyebrow, amused. He laughed out loud, grateful the tension had snapped.

‘I didn’t mean that exactly, though what man wouldn’t? I meant, I want to spend more time with you. I enjoyed this afternoon. So much.’

At that moment, Joseph opened the door, calling out, ‘Alistair, you coming in?’

‘Bloody Joseph,’ muttered Hannah as their hands separated.

Alistair raised his hand in a wave to Joseph and gave Hannah a rueful smile. ‘I’ll rather go.’

‘How about meeting Monday morning, here?’

‘Come to the farm, then we can walk the site. Ten o’clock?’

Hannah nodded and he stepped away from her, walking around the car to his door.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

An Unquiet Place - изображение 17

The farm phone was ringing when Alistair pulled up at his house. He didn’t hurry, thinking that, if it was important, the person would call back. But it kept ringing. He picked it up eventually. ‘Goshen Farm.’ There was silence on the line. ‘Hello?’

A whispered voice, close in his ear, ‘I know you did it.’

Alistair put the phone down immediately. It rang again and he picked it up, but only held the phone to his ear, not saying anything.

‘You did it. You did it. She’s dead and you did it.’

He jammed his finger onto the switch hook, cutting the call. The menace of that ‘You, You, You’ sent a racing shiver along his arms. He put the receiver down on the table next to the phone and jumped at the loud knock on the front door behind him.

His father poked his head around the door. ‘Your mum has dinner ready. She says there’s enough if you want to come over.’ Registering the shock Alistair knew was on his face, Neil said, ‘You okay?’

‘I just got a call. You know, threatening, like before.’

‘But it’s been years! Why now?’ Neil’s face clouded with anger.

‘Because I might be finding out what it’s like to be happy again. Of course something would start now.’

‘Alistair!’ Neil said sharply. ‘The universe is not out to get you. This is a person. A messed-up person, yes, but your life coming right at last has no bearing on it.’

He pushed his hand into his hair. ‘I know, Dad. It’s just so perfectly timed.’

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