Chapter Two: Part One
Waking the next morning, Kate once again told herself to go easier on the alcohol around Dee. Though sober most of the time, Danielle was capable of casually drinking most sailors under the table. Worse, she would inevitably wake up bright and smiling after just a few hours of rest, and without the common decency to be even slightly hung-over. Kate could not remember Dee ever having had a cold or being more than slightly under-the-weather for more than a day. Kate felt tight, grabbing feelings in her forehead and sinuses, uncomfortable reminders that letting Dee’s unstoppable constitution set the pace was a bad idea, especially when she was in celebration mode.
Dee pounced on her as she walked into their living-dining area. She pressed a rolled breakfast pancake into Kate’s hand, saying, ‘Good morning sunshine,’ before turning her and pushing her back down her hallway. ‘We need to get going in about forty-five minutes. I will have coffee ready when you’re out.’
Kate would have told her that she was a bossy bully but the savoury pancake tasted too good.
They had a simple gig booked for the following evening, but today was clear. The three amiga’s Friday morning passed in a blur of menus, venues, markets, staffing and planning. Their combined energy was unstoppable, and they quickly crossed one item after another from their to-do list until just their afternoon appointment remained.
After a relaxed late lunch by the water, they dropped Carrie home to play with some recipe ideas before singing along to classic rock tunes for their 45-minute drive to the Savagewood Estate.
When Kate first saw the house from its long driveway, she was intrigued. Given the neighbourhood and the man’s reputation, she’d expected something a bit more ostentatious or grand. The house was a large single-level homestead, comfortably spread out in the middle of an undulating fifteen-acre property on the outskirts of town. She saw what looked like a small motel block and a large barn, partially hidden by the rolling contours of the land, and connected to the house by covered breezeways. A greenhouse and vegetable patch were set out a short distance from the garage side of the house.
After they’d parked, a fit, solid and serious-looking older man with a twinkle in his eye met them and introduced himself as Edison. As he walked them through the kitchen entrance, Kate found that his face and name felt familiar, but she was uncharacteristically frustrated by her inability to recall how or why. He said to them, ‘Ladies, I am very sorry. An unexpected situation has occurred that will require the best part of an hour for us to deal with. May I ask if it is possible for you to wait until we are able to discuss the upcoming function? That you will be compensated for your time goes without saying.’
They looked at each other before Dee turned to Edison and said, ‘We have nothing else planned for the afternoon. Where would you like us to wait?’
Edison turned to a phone and pressed a series of numbers, answered instantly by some faint clicks behind the walls. Turning back, he said, ‘Please feel free to explore anywhere with an open or unlocked door. Mr Savagewood has an interesting home and he delights in people enjoying it. Please help yourselves to anything in the fridges or bars. I must beg my leave. We will find you as soon as our situation is resolved.’
Dee and Kate watched Edison leave before turning to each other, excitement on their faces. They looked around the kitchen, beautifully finished in stainless steel, tiles and timberwork. The bench areas were generous, the vents were massive and non-slip mats covered the working areas of the floor. Everything about the space rivalled the quality of any commercial kitchen they had seen.
‘Carrie will love it,’ they said to each other at the same time.
Dee’s eyes sparkled. ‘Let’s have a look around. When are we likely to get a chance like this again? Let’s go.’
Kate assumed her best ‘indifferent and bored’ look and shrugged, sighing noncommittally. Dee grabbed her arm and dragged her out. They were still giggling as they entered the main reception area.
The quality of the home was immediately apparent. There were no unfinished or patched joints visible and the parquetry floor was immaculate. Simple care and uncompromising quality was evident everywhere. This house was clearly a lived-in home. It displayed no rich trappings intended to impress, but was all the more impressive for it. The furnishings were all stylish, practical and solid. Definitely a man’s place, Kate thought.
Beyond the reception area, they found a deep room with a small bar, two long lounges, and a billiard table. Near the window at the far end, a chessboard held a game in progress. Pieces of art decorated the walls, hung as someone who loved each piece would hang them.
Kate’s eyes widened as she recognised the names and works of many of the artists. Her real surprise was finding all of the pieces signed with variations of, ‘To my great friend, Dom.’ Kate knew artists rarely did that, especially for works like these. Peering closer, Kate saw that some of the older pieces were dedicated to Dominique Sr.
In hues that almost hid each letter, the next piece said above its signature, ‘To Dom. Thanks for being there.’ She shook her head and took her time to look carefully at each painting.
‘KATE!’ hissed Dee in a loud faux whisper. ‘You have to see this!’
Kate followed Dee’s voice into an adjoining room. Thick cork tiles lined its walls, and some low chairs and stools, instruments on stands, and a baby grand piano, formed a loose circle around the room. She looked at Dee and asked, ‘What?’
Waving wordlessly and looking like a child about to have an accident, Dee pointed to a guitar on a stand near a small drum kit. The body of a very distinctive guitar had writing on it and Kate leaned forward to read it.
~
“Never without you brother, never without you.”
~
Understanding how special this moment was, her face turned pale as she looked back to Dee with wide eyes. Their musical hero, someone they regarded as a major part of the soundtrack of their lives, had once owned and played this very guitar. They picked it up with reverence, finding tour dates and venues inscribed on its back. They searched for and found a specific concert date. Their eyes shone brightly as they journeyed back to one of their fondest and most poignant shared memories.
~~~~~
It had been a hell of a show. At that concert, after being bumped by another reveller, a girl had spilt her drink all over Kate’s back. She could not stop apologising until Kate and Dee both hugged her, assuring her it was okay. As Dee helped to mop the last of Carrie’s spilt drink from Kate’s back, lightning struck and the pair fell hopelessly in love during an amazing solo played on that very guitar.
~~~~~
Dee wiped a wet sparkle from her eyes and Kate just sighed. They carefully replaced the guitar and continued to look around the room. Memorabilia decorated the cork walls. Like the paintings, Kate saw that most items bore dedications to Dominique Savagewood.
Kate blinked, recognising the thought that had been niggling at her. ‘Are there any photos with him in them?’
‘Strange, isn’t it? Brag-walls are normally full of self-important shots with famous people and spotlights. Not like this. Everything about him feels different. It’s like he knows who he is and doesn’t have to show off.’
Kate started with her hands on her hips and said teasingly, ‘Danielle Marie! You are smitten by this man. You know he will just leave you used and broken-hearted. Can you see any evidence of a woman here? There is not one, single, feminine thing! You’re infatuated with a man you’ve never even met. You don’t even know if he’s straight or…’
Following Dee’s open-eyed stare, Kate turned, prickles of dread already stinging her face. He was leaning lightly against a doorjamb, grinning at her. Frozen by his smiling eyes, waves of déjà vu washed around her.
He said, ‘I believe we have already met, my lady. A home reflects the life and interests of its occupant. In this case, I am he. Don’t tell anyone,’ he said as he touched his finger to his smiling lips, ‘but very straight too.’
Kate knew her mouth was open, yet she couldn’t seem to recall how to close it. Part of her wanted to run away but her body just stayed put, her limbs obstinately on strike. Her confusion burned on her face, totally contrary to her dignity’s explicit demands.
‘About four months ago, you were crossing near the courthouse. A lady had dropped her groceries?’ His grin challenged her to either recall him or admit defeat. Shaking her head back into operation, she remembered the scene and smiled, relieved to understand why he and Edison were familiar to her. Her smile evaporated as other memories from that day pushed into her mind.
Dominique said, ‘Your smile is still lovely, though it would appear that the day was not. My apologies if I struck a nerve.’ He looked to Dee and said, ‘We have about forty minutes before we’re free. I hope that is okay with you both?’
‘Totally fine, Mr Savagewood.’
‘Please, in here and between us, call me Dom. I know Edison would have already mentioned it, but please do help yourselves to anything in the kitchen or bars. The yellow button on any phone will reach Juanita, my PA. My home is meant to be lived in and enjoyed. Please feel free to look around.’ Looking directly at Kate with playful mischief in his eye, he said, ‘I look forward to hearing your voice soon, my lady.’ He winked and left them alone before Kate could answer. Her face burned crimson as her mind raced with the many great one-liners and retorts she should have said, all far too late now.
Dee giggled as soon as he was beyond their sight. ‘You? YOU!.. Katie-J, lost for words!’ Looking wistfully at the door, she added quietly, ‘If I were straight though…’
‘Carina would be very shocked,’ Kate said, glad that her face had finally chosen to respond to her will again.
‘Ha! He is her ‘Straight Pass’. Mine too.’
Kate stared at her friend. Dee had never expressed even the slightest interest in a male for anything other than friendship since they’d attended preschool together. On the first day they’d met, Kate had just finished french-braiding Dee’s hair when an older boy pushed Kate over. Dee had punched him on the nose and sat on him, pulling and twisting his ears until he apologised. Their friendship had not faltered once in the years since.
Still blushing and giggling, they linked arms and continued their exploration. Framing the entrance to the next room, they found an open pair of Gothic timber and iron doors that felt heavy with age. Stepping into an octagonal library, the space and décor made them feel as if they were in a medieval castle. The centre of the space was a waist-deep sunken area, ringed by a built-in circle of generously padded leather lounges. An ornate compass rose was inlaid into the timber floor. An eclectic and bewildering variety of books occupied the shelves around the room. A wide, polished timber walkway behind the ring of lounges offered easy access to the shelves.
The girls looked at each other and mouthed, ‘Wow!’
Almost like a barely audible hum, Kate's feelings of déjà vu persisted. In a way she was not quite able to grasp, the room felt familiar; even intimately familiar.
Nestled between and throughout the bookcases were an assortment of photographs, some in black and white, others in colour. All were of people and places, many seemed to be of buildings and projects during their formal opening ceremonies, judging by the mix of dignitaries and workers in attendance. Kate even recognised a few of her father’s projects in the assortment. Then she saw him in a black and white photo. She froze, remembering that project from her childhood.
‘Katie, is that you?’
Following Dee’s finger, she looked at herself as a six-year-old holding her father’s hand. They were standing behind a man who looked a lot like Dominique did now.
Unable to speak, not knowing what she could say, Kate could only nod as a flood of memories and thoughts of her father threatened to overwhelm her. The picture of him holding her hand in front of that project was a poignant reminder of how he’d steadily built the company, and his pride in never having once compromised his integrity or his commitment to quality. She remembered how their men had cheered the day he’d passed the company’s reins to Kate, readily accepting and celebrating her leadership. When just months later, her parents were lost to a wet corner on a country road, every man rallied around her and wept openly alongside her. She remembered her pride in the company’s steady prosperity… until Silvio’s treachery destroyed it all.
Reading her friend’s many expressions, Dee gave Kate’s shoulder a little squeeze of solidarity. Kate shook her head clear and smiled back in thanks.
The next image they found was of Dominique, the side of his face messily and comprehensively covered by a recently landed cream pie. A tall and strikingly handsome man was by his side in a similar state of coverage and both men were laughing. Clearly just ambushed, other happy, laughing faces surrounded them.
Each image held something of Dominique Savagewood’s life. Some were of grand ventures, others were of eclectic groups of people, and a few were of simple stick and thatch villages. Kate found little evident rhyme or reason to link the various subjects of the photographs. She could find no common thread.
Spying a text book from her early engineering studies on the next shelf, Kate smiled, remembering those days fondly. She had been the only female to finish that demanding under-graduate degree. Still a source of wry grimaces, her overall grades were consistently the second highest ever awarded by the institution.
Kate’s perfectionist nature was slightly but constantly offended by the notion of being second best, even if the ‘best’ was now a Nobel laureate and had graduated four years before she was born. Her father and his men, her extended family, had mentored her and crowed like roosters in their pride of her and her achievements. When they attended her award ceremonies, they looked like real engineers in their slightly rumpled suits, standing and cheering as she received her accolades.
Pulling Kate back from her thoughts of the past, Dee was asking her, ‘Are there really such things as cosmic rays, Kate?’ She was pointing to a paper lying on a side table entitled “Cosmic Ray Propagation and Permeability; A Study in…”
Kate nodded, saying, ‘You wouldn’t believe how easy they are to demonstrate. The original experiment was one of the real moments in particle physics.’
Wondering how her friend stored all of that information in her head, Dee pulled a face and crossed her eyes at Kate. She did it every time Kate answered an intended yes or no question with an erudite explanation. It always made them laugh. Kate poked her tongue out in ritualised response.
In the next room, white boards were on every wall and a round table dominated the floor space. The table was topped with books on Andean and Amazonian herbs, cosmology and psychology.
They had spent nearly an hour looking through the man’s home and Kate still felt no closer to understanding who he was. Music, charities, developments, science, arts, herbalism, spirituality and shamanism; the diversity left her greatly intrigued and slightly frustrated.
~~~~~