Extract from Fleur McDonald’s upcoming novel Indigo Storm, available 23rd March 2016. Preorder now!
Preview: Indigo Storm - Chapter 1
Ashleigh looked out of the window. Through the heavy clouds that were threatening snow at one thousand feet, a sliver of sunlight was peeking. It was the first time the sun had shone in a week and she could see the tell-tale smudge of a rainbow.
Putting her OUTBACK magazine down, she stood up and walked to the window. Lake Jindabyne was flat and a lone yacht was moored in the grey, unreflective waters.
She sighed, feeling a restlessness stirring inside her. Her eyes searched the tree-covered mountains, as if the answer might be found in the landscape. She knew it wouldn’t be, but the view usually calmed her.
Today it didn’t. Her heart beat a little faster, the knot in her stomach making her feel sick.
Ashleigh held her hands level with her eyes and could see them shaking. Letting out an angry cry, she threw back her head and stomped her foot, before spinning around and pacing over to the wall where her wedding photo hung.
Dominic, her husband, was strikingly good-looking—tall and dark, with small flecks of grey in his sideburns. He was much taller than Ashleigh, and she could remember how she had felt with him looking down at her that day, two years before. In the photo, they were a happy couple, madly in love. Dominic was looking down at her and she up at him, as if they were about to kiss.
‘You’re mine now,’ he’d said quietly, just before the photo was taken. Briefly, she’d smiled, thinking how romantic he was, but then she’d realised that the possessive look on his face and the pressure of his hand on her waist told a different story.
Ashleigh had told no one (after all, who did she have to tell?) that seconds after the click of the camera, he held her with a force that had startled her and said: ‘Don’t ever think about leaving me. You won’t get far.’ Then he’d smiled, the intensity on his face vanishing, and looked out at their guests, raising his hand as if in victory. The crowd had cheered and she’d been left wondering what had just happened.
She turned away from the photo and noticed the fire had burned low. Ashleigh threw another log on it and then made her way back to the couch. If she kept busy and could lose herself in someone else’s world, she would forget about the knot in her gut, Ashleigh thought. She flicked the pages until she came to a large photo. Staring at it for a few moments, she slowly drew the magazine closer.
A couple stood in front of a stone ruin. Behind them was a creek bed, covered in stones, and along the bank grew many large gum trees. There were a couple of other photos, of a lonely cemetery and a high, mountainous range. Both places were covered in blue and red flowers and low, prickly grey shrubs.
Goosebumps rose on Ashleigh’s arms and a shiver went through her. She narrowed her eyes and studied the picture. The scenery was breathtaking. Suddenly she felt as if she’d been there before. Why, she didn’t know; she’d certainly never been to the north of South Australia. It was a weird and unsettling feeling.
She quickly ran her eyes over the story. None of the names of the places or people rang any bells with her, but why would they? As Dominic loved reminding her, she was an orphan. She had no one but him.
The door banged shut and Ashleigh jumped as Dominic came into the room, shaking the rain from his hair.
‘Hi,’ he said as he peeled off his coat and bent down to take off his boots.
‘Hi back at you,’ Ashleigh said, getting up from the couch. ‘How’s your day been so far?’
‘Fine. Lunch ready?’
A sliver of apprehension slid through her as she realised the hour. ‘Um, no. But it won’t take me two minutes to heat up the meatballs. Sorry. I lost track of time.’ She rushed into the kitchen without looking at him.
Banging the pot onto the stove, Ashleigh opened the fridge and grabbed the plastic container that held the meatballs in tomato sauce she’d made yesterday. Dom loved Italian food. He said it reminded him of his heritage. Not that he needed reminding. The little gang he had was almost Mafia-like.
‘Damn,’ she swore quietly. Her hands were shaking and she’d spilled some of the food onto the naked gas flame. It hissed before sending up a terrible burned odour.
‘Careful,’ he said.
Ashleigh froze for a second. She hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered.
Dominic came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Can’t have you getting hurt,’ he said, kissing her neck.
Still wary, but hopeful, she turned to face him, lifting her mouth for a kiss.
When he was like this, he was more than nice. He was the man she fell in love with. She wondered how on earth she could ever think of leaving him. He was attentive, loving and kind. Dominic ran his hands down the sides of her body and gently tapped her hips. ‘What have you been doing this morning?’ he asked as he moved to the counter and got out the crockery and cutlery.
Ashleigh stirred the sauce and turned on the oven, so she could heat the bread rolls.
‘Just the normal type of things,’ she answered. ‘I’ve washed and cleaned. Had all of that done by nine-ish, so I walked down the street, did a bit of shopping and came home.’
‘You walked? It’s all of three degrees outside.’
‘I know but I like the cold. It clears my head.’
The rich tomato sauce began to boil and she took it off the heat to ladle into the bowls Dominic had put next to the stove.
‘Who did you see down the street?’ he asked casually, but Ashleigh could tell it was a loaded question. If her answer displeased him, well…Like the weather in the Snowy Mountains, he could change within minutes.
‘No one really. I didn’t talk to anyone,’ she answered. ‘I saw Mrs Harper from a distance. There’s lots of blow-ins, though. Heaps of people combing the clothes stores. Must be a bit colder than some of the tourists expected.’
‘Crazy, they are,’ Dominic answered as he sat down at table. ‘They don’t realise that buying the clothes up here is three times more expensive than if they’d bought them before they came.’
Ashleigh said nothing as she placed his meal in front of him and then sat down with her own bowl.
‘Still, it’s good for the town’s economy.’ Dominic plunged his fork in, winding the spaghetti around it, and smiled at her across the table. ‘So, what do you have in mind for this afternoon?’
The picture from the magazine flashed into her mind. ‘I’m not sure,’ she answered. She stopped talking, wondering if this were the right time. It was clear he was in a good mood. ‘Dominic …’ She paused, about to tell him about the photo and the magazine article—how she had felt instantly drawn to what she had seen but couldn’t understand why. Something inside made her stop.
He looked expectantly at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything more, he frowned, before raising his eyebrows in encouragement.
‘No, it doesn’t matter,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.’ Flicking her hand dismissively, she deliberately made her tone light, even though her stomach was in knots.
Dominic narrowed his eyes and continued to watch her while he swallowed another mouthful.
‘Something on your mind?’ he asked quietly.
‘No,’ she answered firmly.
They finished the rest of their meal in silence but when Ashleigh got up to clear the plates, Dominic grabbed hold of her wrist.
‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ he asked, now in a menacing low voice.
Ashleigh tried to twist herself away, but realised there was no point. He had a tight grip and, once again, like the weather, he’d changed.
‘Who did you speak to downtown this morning? You’re not usually secretive.’
‘I’m not being secretive,’ Ashleigh protested. ‘I just for...