Read Online The Quilt by Rochelle Carlton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rochelle Carlton
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pen with a clatter.
“Do you ever think of her?”
Sean looked up, dragging himself back to the present.
“Yes , of course I do. Every day I wonder, not what happened to her but how it happened and where she is.”
“So you are sure she is dead ?”
“Oh yes , I am positive she is dead and so are the police. I guess the rain destroyed any trace of evidence but I am sure Allan had a hand in her death. If she was alive she would have been in contact. She would never have left me to wonder, it just wasn’t her way to put herself before others.”
Jean hesitated before continuing cautiously. This was the first time Sean had shared his memories of the past and she knew it had been difficult.
“How did you stay in the cottage with the man you thought had murdered your mother? Didn’t you want to kill him?”
She saw an unfamiliar hardness travel over Sean’s face and instantly regretted her question.
“Yes, I wanted to kill him. But he was doing that job for himself. I never really communicated with him after Anne went missing. I wondered, I hoped that as he got close to the end he would respect my mother enough to tell me where she was. Of course, that never happened.” Sean shook his head.
“ He went to his grave holding the last piece of control he had.”
Jean looked up sadly. If she could have been granted one wish at that moment she would have asked that Anne’s remains would be found and the poor woman and her son could be let rest.
She reached for Sean’s hand. “Thank you.”
There is always a lesson left by those that went before. An example left to follow or a warning of where not to go. Be wise enough to know the difference and humble enough to listen.
Chapter 5
“ Sean Clarke”
Sean’s first priority was to clean up the foul odour of Allan Clarke that hung like a mouldy blanket in every corner of Shearers Cottage. He scrubbed and bleached the surfaces and walls that oozed the foul stale smell of sweat, urine and liquor, he repaired the surfaces broken in fits of rage, and he burnt not only the bedding but the bed itself, collected the bottles and opened the windows to blow the memory of Allan out of the tiny building.
Larger changes were in the air for Twin Pines.
“So you want to convert your cattle farm to lamb and wool?”
Sean sat opposite Cliff in the Kean e’s small kitchen that was dominated by a huge square oak table.
“That old Ba….” Cliff trailed off as his wife , Dorothy cast him a warning glance.
“Your father would be turning in his grave ,” he laughed.
Cliff had a reputation for being gruff and impatient, gained mainly after he had threatened local youngsters with a pellet gun when they made their annual visit to steal fruit from his orchard.
Sean had spent the afternoon visiting the substantial Keane sheep property looking at their implement sheds and studying the efficient shearing shed and yards.
“You would need to invest quite a bit of capital. It’s been awhile since I last visited Twin Pines but from memory you have nothing that will be of much use to you in your new venture.”
Cliff hesitated before continuing .
“I would imagine Allan left you very little by the time he passed away?”
Sean smiled.
“Some of the money he got from selling the lifestyle blocks went into developing Twin Pines. Unfortunately, much of it didn’t.”
There was no need for Sean to explain further.
“I am considering selling off the three thousand acres bordering you. It is on a separate title and would still leave me with just over five thousand acres. That would give me enough capital to get set up and enough land to operate with financial viability.”
Cliff nodded and rubbed the stubble on his chin .
“Well Sean , I would be very interested in putting an option on that land if you decide to go ahead and sell. If I can help in anyway or you need to know anything, give me a call.”
Cliff
“Do you ever think of her?”
Sean looked up, dragging himself back to the present.
“Yes , of course I do. Every day I wonder, not what happened to her but how it happened and where she is.”
“So you are sure she is dead ?”
“Oh yes , I am positive she is dead and so are the police. I guess the rain destroyed any trace of evidence but I am sure Allan had a hand in her death. If she was alive she would have been in contact. She would never have left me to wonder, it just wasn’t her way to put herself before others.”
Jean hesitated before continuing cautiously. This was the first time Sean had shared his memories of the past and she knew it had been difficult.
“How did you stay in the cottage with the man you thought had murdered your mother? Didn’t you want to kill him?”
She saw an unfamiliar hardness travel over Sean’s face and instantly regretted her question.
“Yes, I wanted to kill him. But he was doing that job for himself. I never really communicated with him after Anne went missing. I wondered, I hoped that as he got close to the end he would respect my mother enough to tell me where she was. Of course, that never happened.” Sean shook his head.
“ He went to his grave holding the last piece of control he had.”
Jean looked up sadly. If she could have been granted one wish at that moment she would have asked that Anne’s remains would be found and the poor woman and her son could be let rest.
She reached for Sean’s hand. “Thank you.”
There is always a lesson left by those that went before. An example left to follow or a warning of where not to go. Be wise enough to know the difference and humble enough to listen.
Chapter 5
“ Sean Clarke”
Sean’s first priority was to clean up the foul odour of Allan Clarke that hung like a mouldy blanket in every corner of Shearers Cottage. He scrubbed and bleached the surfaces and walls that oozed the foul stale smell of sweat, urine and liquor, he repaired the surfaces broken in fits of rage, and he burnt not only the bedding but the bed itself, collected the bottles and opened the windows to blow the memory of Allan out of the tiny building.
Larger changes were in the air for Twin Pines.
“So you want to convert your cattle farm to lamb and wool?”
Sean sat opposite Cliff in the Kean e’s small kitchen that was dominated by a huge square oak table.
“That old Ba….” Cliff trailed off as his wife , Dorothy cast him a warning glance.
“Your father would be turning in his grave ,” he laughed.
Cliff had a reputation for being gruff and impatient, gained mainly after he had threatened local youngsters with a pellet gun when they made their annual visit to steal fruit from his orchard.
Sean had spent the afternoon visiting the substantial Keane sheep property looking at their implement sheds and studying the efficient shearing shed and yards.
“You would need to invest quite a bit of capital. It’s been awhile since I last visited Twin Pines but from memory you have nothing that will be of much use to you in your new venture.”
Cliff hesitated before continuing .
“I would imagine Allan left you very little by the time he passed away?”
Sean smiled.
“Some of the money he got from selling the lifestyle blocks went into developing Twin Pines. Unfortunately, much of it didn’t.”
There was no need for Sean to explain further.
“I am considering selling off the three thousand acres bordering you. It is on a separate title and would still leave me with just over five thousand acres. That would give me enough capital to get set up and enough land to operate with financial viability.”
Cliff nodded and rubbed the stubble on his chin .
“Well Sean , I would be very interested in putting an option on that land if you decide to go ahead and sell. If I can help in anyway or you need to know anything, give me a call.”
Cliff
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