me
what happened,’ she said to Jaimie.
‘Mark Young was
driving drunk,’ Jaimie told her. ‘He hit Brett’s car and his little girl …’ he
paused trying to think of the name.
‘Sam,’ Sophie said.
‘Sammy, he used to
call her. She was a cute kid. Only four years old. She went everywhere with him
on the weekends, always on his shoulders.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘She was killed
instantly. Story goes, Mark got out of the car, pissed as a newt and Brett
hammered him. He only hit him once, but it was enough to kill him. His nose
went straight through his brain. The alcohol didn’t help.’
Sophie gulped. ‘Whoa.’
‘There’s more to it
than that, but that’s the basics,’ said Jaimie. ‘Other stories say Brett was
drinking too, but I don’t know what the truth is. There were no other people
there. Brett sat on the side of the road all night with his kid in his arms.
Someone drove past the next morning and found the whole mess. By the time the
cops got there, it was too late to breathalyse him.’
They continued driving
in silence. Sophie stared out the window, not knowing what to think.
When they arrived back
at Stoneleigh, only the soft lamp at Brett’s place was on. A porch light was on
at the main house and the staff buildings were all dark and empty. Everyone was
still at the rodeo. Everyone except Brett.
‘Thanks, Jaimesey,’
she smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.
He smiled back. ‘Take
care, chick.’
‘You too, my friend.’
Liz made her way back
to the flat. ‘Come on, I’ll make you a hot chocolate,’ she offered.
‘I’m going to stay up
a while,’ said Sophie. She needed some time to think. By herself. She made her
way to the staffroom and switched on the lights. The tables were wiped clean
and all the chairs were upside down on top, ready for the floors to be swept. She
walked through the small door and went into the pool room, flicked on the
overhead lamp and took a pool cue.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sophie barely noticed the balls she
hit as her mind tumbled. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine
sitting on the side of a road with her dead child in her arms. It was too
awful; especially if it was compounded by guilt. Had Brett been drinking? Was
that why he waited there all night without calling the cops, like the Heads Up
boys all said? Or was it pure grief?
‘Hey, you,’ said a
soft voice.
Sophie looked up and
saw Mrs Carney in the doorway in her dressing gown. ‘I wondered who was hitting
balls around at this hour of the night.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know
you were home,’ said Sophie. ‘Didn’t you go to the rodeo?’
Mrs Carney smiled and
took a seat by the wall. ‘Tom went. I’ve got the flu.’
Sophie noticed her
nose was red and her eyes looked tired.
‘What keeps you up?’
her boss asked.
Sophie sighed and
tapped the end of the stick against her boot. ‘The new guy,’ she confessed.
‘How was the rodeo?’
‘Bad.’
‘Thought it might be. That’s
why I didn’t go. I begged Tom to stay home too but he wanted to make sure there
was no trouble.’ She gave Sophie a kindly smile. ‘Brett’s a decent man, Sophie.
He’s been done wrong.’
‘That’s what you say,’
she answered, wishing she could believe it. ‘Others say different.’
‘Jim was with him the
night it happened. Brett never drank when he had his kid with him. He was as
sober as a judge. Jim had been talking to him about coming here to work. He’s a
top hand with the horses. He offered him the job you ended up getting. Brett
left early to put Sam to bed. Said he’d think about it. He was a devoted
father.’
Mrs Carney’s version
of the story tore Sophie’s heart to pieces.
‘Why would they say he
was drinking?’
‘Probably to make
themselves feel better about what their brother did. Grief does strange things
to people, Sophie.’
‘Where is Sam’s mum?’
‘They were never
together while I knew him. She had Sammy during the week.
what happened,’ she said to Jaimie.
‘Mark Young was
driving drunk,’ Jaimie told her. ‘He hit Brett’s car and his little girl …’ he
paused trying to think of the name.
‘Sam,’ Sophie said.
‘Sammy, he used to
call her. She was a cute kid. Only four years old. She went everywhere with him
on the weekends, always on his shoulders.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘She was killed
instantly. Story goes, Mark got out of the car, pissed as a newt and Brett
hammered him. He only hit him once, but it was enough to kill him. His nose
went straight through his brain. The alcohol didn’t help.’
Sophie gulped. ‘Whoa.’
‘There’s more to it
than that, but that’s the basics,’ said Jaimie. ‘Other stories say Brett was
drinking too, but I don’t know what the truth is. There were no other people
there. Brett sat on the side of the road all night with his kid in his arms.
Someone drove past the next morning and found the whole mess. By the time the
cops got there, it was too late to breathalyse him.’
They continued driving
in silence. Sophie stared out the window, not knowing what to think.
When they arrived back
at Stoneleigh, only the soft lamp at Brett’s place was on. A porch light was on
at the main house and the staff buildings were all dark and empty. Everyone was
still at the rodeo. Everyone except Brett.
‘Thanks, Jaimesey,’
she smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.
He smiled back. ‘Take
care, chick.’
‘You too, my friend.’
Liz made her way back
to the flat. ‘Come on, I’ll make you a hot chocolate,’ she offered.
‘I’m going to stay up
a while,’ said Sophie. She needed some time to think. By herself. She made her
way to the staffroom and switched on the lights. The tables were wiped clean
and all the chairs were upside down on top, ready for the floors to be swept. She
walked through the small door and went into the pool room, flicked on the
overhead lamp and took a pool cue.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sophie barely noticed the balls she
hit as her mind tumbled. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine
sitting on the side of a road with her dead child in her arms. It was too
awful; especially if it was compounded by guilt. Had Brett been drinking? Was
that why he waited there all night without calling the cops, like the Heads Up
boys all said? Or was it pure grief?
‘Hey, you,’ said a
soft voice.
Sophie looked up and
saw Mrs Carney in the doorway in her dressing gown. ‘I wondered who was hitting
balls around at this hour of the night.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know
you were home,’ said Sophie. ‘Didn’t you go to the rodeo?’
Mrs Carney smiled and
took a seat by the wall. ‘Tom went. I’ve got the flu.’
Sophie noticed her
nose was red and her eyes looked tired.
‘What keeps you up?’
her boss asked.
Sophie sighed and
tapped the end of the stick against her boot. ‘The new guy,’ she confessed.
‘How was the rodeo?’
‘Bad.’
‘Thought it might be. That’s
why I didn’t go. I begged Tom to stay home too but he wanted to make sure there
was no trouble.’ She gave Sophie a kindly smile. ‘Brett’s a decent man, Sophie.
He’s been done wrong.’
‘That’s what you say,’
she answered, wishing she could believe it. ‘Others say different.’
‘Jim was with him the
night it happened. Brett never drank when he had his kid with him. He was as
sober as a judge. Jim had been talking to him about coming here to work. He’s a
top hand with the horses. He offered him the job you ended up getting. Brett
left early to put Sam to bed. Said he’d think about it. He was a devoted
father.’
Mrs Carney’s version
of the story tore Sophie’s heart to pieces.
‘Why would they say he
was drinking?’
‘Probably to make
themselves feel better about what their brother did. Grief does strange things
to people, Sophie.’
‘Where is Sam’s mum?’
‘They were never
together while I knew him. She had Sammy during the week.
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