Retribution: Who would you kill to escape your past? by Diane Demetre

Author:Diane Demetre [Demetre, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648332404
Published: 2018-06-08T05:00:00+00:00

Friday dawned bright and clear. Illuminated by the blinding glow of the rising sun, cool shadows scurried away, chased by the scorching heat. While BJ and Whiskey explored the back paddock, Jessie sat alone on the veranda. As the gloomy anticipation of her father’s forthcoming funeral replaced the shock of his death, her emotions descended to melancholy. Tears pooled in her eyes as she half expected to see her dad walk across the far paddock.

She’d not quite reached a quarter of a century before losing her father. Twenty-four years had sped past like an express train and all she had to show for it were some bittersweet memories and the four photos in her lap. The first photo of Dad and her rolling on the wet grass after the rains when she was little, reminded her of how she used to love the rain. Now it annoyed her. Studying the image, she wondered whatever happened to the gold chain with its swan medallion hanging around her neck in the photo. She’d loved that little chain, but had somehow lost it. She heaved a disappointed sigh and flipped to the next photo. A snapshot of her father and Jessie squatting around a blazing fire toasting marshmallows when she was about ten years old, told of a time when she didn’t think about what she ate. Back then, the threat of sugar held no power over her. Ah, how times have changed. A flicker of irony tugged her lips.

The last two photos showed her father standing beside her in Melbourne outside the Australian Ballet School when she first arrived and then on the following Christmas at the dinner table. For Jessie, both images rekindled mixed emotions, but little overt joy. Rather, they acted as a timeclock punch to her life. Embittered tears burned behind her eyelids as she realised there were no recent pictures of her and her father—just distant images of a girl long ago with a man who never told her how much he loved her until the day before he died.

But she was as much to blame as he was. As soon as she could, she’d escaped into her ballet world, leaving anyone and anything to do with Coodravale behind in a blur. Inspired to carve out her own life, she never looked back for too long. Being here, being home, hurt. And although she could never work out why, it didn’t lessen the pain. Coming home stung time and again, like picking a scab off a wound until it felt better to just leave it alone. With her father’s funeral only a few days away, her old scab had been scraped off once more. But for the life of her, she didn’t know why. Selfish, that’s what I am, she thought, grinding her teeth. Instead of thinking about Dad, I’m thinking about myself. She was a wretched girl. But as the last thought skidded through her mind, she wondered where she’d heard that before.

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