Chapter 45
Forty-Five
‘Guv, you gotta help me out here,’ Bryant said as they headed towards their second destination of the day.
‘Tell me what exactly you don’t understand,’ she said patiently, having predicted this response.
‘Why we’re still embroiled in a neighbourhood dispute.’
‘Well, yesterday we met a young couple who have their whole future ahead of them, but through no fault of their own are caught up in their family drama.’
‘Yeah, guv. I was there.’
‘My mistake. I thought you’d forgot.’
‘My question is why is this our problem?’
‘Oh, Bryant, as police officers we’re obliged to assist the public whatever shape or form that might take. And besides, we have no one else to bother until we find out who Nadine Cowley met with yesterday.’
‘They’re seriously gonna sue you for harassment.’
‘Maybe, but it’s gotta be worth a try. Imagine the savings to police time if we’re no longer being called out to these two families? It’s a win-win for all of us.’
‘With Martha behind bars, I’d imagine that number is going to drop significantly anyway.’
Kim suspected he was right, but she still thought it was worth a try. And despite Woody warning her off Martha, she still couldn’t shift the rock in her gut that said something here wasn’t adding up.
Bryant turned into the drive leading to the Hubbard property, which was in considerably better condition than the road to Martha’s house. She wasn’t surprised to see that the place looked as though it had fared better with the passage of time than their neighbours’ home.
Although the farmhouse and outbuildings were not unlike those next door, it was clear that on this side of the line, all traces of farming were gone and there was no attempt to hold on to the past. The old machines had been cleared away, the feed stores had been emptied, and all the outbuildings washed, repaired and painted.
The family still owned the land but no longer put it to any use.
The woman who answered the door was petite and tidy. She wore three-quarter length jeans, flip-flops and a tee shirt beneath a thin cardigan. Her blonde hair was tied in a bun, and her face was clear of make-up.
The contrast between this woman and Martha was night and day. Although a similar age, it looked as though Martha had received the ten years Lena Hubbard had given away.
Bryant held up his ID and introduced them both.
‘May we come in?’ Kim asked as Lena made no effort to move aside.
‘Why?’ she asked, folding her arms.
‘Just an update.’
‘I’ve been updated,’ she said without moving an inch.
Her small frame packed quite the attitude, but Kim recalled Donna telling her that George had been the more reasonable of the two.
‘We’ll only keep you a minute,’ Kim said.
Lena hmphed and moved to the side.
Kim stepped into the house and realised quickly that it was absolutely nothing like the one next door. Here, walls had been removed to create an open space. Poky windows had been replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass that even on a dull day like today still captured every bit of daylight.
The large kitchen was an addition with bifolds that stretched the length of the wall. A large lantern roof sent light down to a pine dining table beneath. Kim watched as the clouds passed overhead.
‘What’s the update?’ Lena asked once they were standing round the table. ‘Did my husband come back to life, or did Martha retract her confession?’
‘Neither,’ Kim said, taking a seat.
Lena didn’t sit, indicating she had little to say to them. For all their differences, the families did share a disdain for the police force, even though they had all sought assistance equally over the years.
‘We spoke with your son yesterday.’
‘I have no son,’ she said with no change of expression. It took a special kind of coldness to so easily cut off your only child.
‘He’s grieving for his father,’ Kim added.
She shrugged. ‘I can’t help that. We all have to adjust to life without him.’
Lena spoke with the kind of attitude that came from time and distance from a traumatic event. Months, maybe years. George had been dead a few days.
‘Your son came to see you yesterday too.’
‘If he did, I didn’t hear him. I must have had the vacuum on.’
‘You won’t even allow him to comfort you?’ Kim asked.
‘Are you deaf? I didn’t hear him.’
Kim wasn’t sure whether she believed that or not. ‘I don’t understand your anger, Lena,’ she said honestly.
‘He knows how we feel about the scum that lives next door.’
‘It’s not just Eric,’ Kim said, although that was a puzzle on its own. ‘You married into this family. George was the Hubbard. He’s the descendant from the original warring families. Why do you hate them so much?’
‘You’ve met them. They are foul, despicable human beings.
You’re right I’m not a blood Hubbard, but I am in every other sense of the word.
My mother-in-law was one of the most decent human beings I’ve ever met.
I loved her like she was my own mother, and on her deathbed she made me swear to never let the Stouts have peace. ’
Kim felt an overwhelming sadness that a dying woman had used any portion of her last moments to reinforce hatred. It also proved there was little these two families weren’t prepared to do to keep the feud going.
‘Do you even believe in the curse?’ Kim asked.
Lena smiled but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. ‘Doesn’t seem to be doing too badly. No Stout man has seen the other side of fifty.’
‘For a variety of reasons,’ Kim countered.
‘Reasons don’t matter. Still hasn’t happened.’
‘So, a curse you’re not sure you believe in, and an old woman’s hatred, is more important to you than your own son?’ Kim asked.
‘He knows how much we hate that family. He could have stopped it before it got too serious. It could have been any other girl – or boy for that matter. Even that would have been less painful. He knew the hurt it would cause me and his dad, but he did it anyway.’
‘The heart wants what the heart wants,’ Kim said, appealing on behalf of the young couple.
‘The heart is an organ that recovers quickly. There are other girls, but he only had one mother. Now, is there anything else, or have you wasted enough of my time?’ Lena asked.
Kim wondered if Lena Hubbard was the most emotionless woman she’d ever met. She didn’t present as someone who had lost her husband within the last few days. For both families, it looked as though the feud trumped everything.
She stood, accepting defeat.
Her gaze was drawn across the field to the boundary line and the infamous oak tree.
She turned to Lena with one last question. ‘Why did your husband walk that line, knowing exactly what it would do to the Stouts?’
‘I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter now, does it?’
Like everything else, the words were delivered with a matter-of-fact tone devoid of emotion.
Kim thanked her for her time and headed for the front door.
‘Are we done with this now?’ Bryant asked once they were back in the car.
‘You don’t find it at all intriguing that not one Stout male has made it past fifty since 1910?’
‘You can’t seriously believe the curse worked?’ Bryant scoffed. ‘And the fact you’re even asking that question tells me you don’t know when you’re done.’
Kim said nothing as she looked out of the window.
He was right. There was something about these families that would not let her go.