The Velvet Slipper

By Elissa Plug

It’s 1934, and Edward Bradshaw is about to celebrate his fortieth birthday with all his family, friends and esteemed acquaintances in the south of Western Australia. Jocelyn Bradshaw has been working for months to provide her husband with a night that will distract him from her secret; a night that will make him pleased with her; that he will remember for years to come. Little does she know that before the night is out, she will be floating face-down and lifeless in the storm-tossed sea and her husband won’t be remembering anything at all.

In 2004, Penelope Waters is struggling to recover from a terrible loss. She finds herself flailing at work and takes a much-needed holiday to visit a friend in the south-west. A nearby imposing manor house soon captures her imagination with its air of mystique and the secrets that linger in the ancient walls and beautiful surrounding gardens. The kinship she feels with the occupants of the house, compounded by the arrival of an anonymous letter, compels her to the investigate the death of Jocelyn Bradshaw, who, many years earlier, fell from the sea cliffs onto the foaming rocks below. Together with Charles Bradshaw, an attractive young farmer and relative of the deceased woman, she searches for the missing answers to the many questions left behind: was Jocelyn’s death an accident, or was she pushed? And did her husband really die when he was thrown from his horse, or was it something more sinister?

Penny must dig through layers of memories to find the truth about that dark night, and as she does so she finds the courage within herself to face the memories that haunt her and to mend the relationships in her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elissa Plug
• Release date: Nov 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370491230

Elissa Plug

Elissa Plug lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her gun-slinging, bow-shooting, soccer-playing husband and destructive, teeth-growing, toddling, chattering little son. She writes while her son is sleeping (and sometimes while her husband is!), avoids the washing pile, devours books and loves the rain, tall trees and wide, open spaces.

Book preview

Wilyabrup, Western Australia, 1934

The weather was bleak; the air thick with impending moisture and the wind howling like a person in pain on the night she crept from the house. The moon was hidden behind the dark, racing clouds and she was glad, for there was something she had to do, and no one could know.

Shadows leapt and plunged around her as she made her solitary way through the garden, transformed as it was from its daytime delight into a murky bed of tangled briars and roots. Behind her, the house was lit up like a sky show and light and laughter spilled out onto the lawn; the sounds of merrymaking at odds with her own peculiar pilgrimage.

She stuck to the shadows, her shoes making soft, squelching sounds in the muddy soil and her skin tingling as the wind chilled and buffeted her. They weren’t the best choice of shoes, but the dainty velvet slippers had belonged to her mother, and in this particular instance she needed all the reassurance she could find. In her hands was a small, tightly wrapped bundle that she hugged tight against her chest.

Inside, her heart was frozen with fear.

Fear had been a constant companion for so long now, riding on her back like a flagellating demon. It was ironic that tonight, of all nights, during the party that was supposed to smooth things over, that events should finally come to a climax. She’d been so determined to control it all, and then the one thing that can’t be controlled, by anyone, had happened. And she had to deal with the consequences before anyone found out.

The wind was pushing strongly against her now, whipping her shawl and skirts about her, and she lowered her head to protect her face against it. The tall red gum at the bottom of the garden tossed its branches like flailing arms warning her to turn back. Bushes leaned and buckled beneath the force of the gale, as if fighting to escape the roots that tied them down to the soil. She pushed on, bent over like a woman much older than her years. Down to the bottom of the garden, where there was a little gate in the fence she knew well.

Pausing for a moment, she looked back at the house. A fleeting feeling that someone was watching had come over her. The tall house stared solemnly back at her, and in the dim light she fancied she caught a flicker of - something.

Movement? Candlelight?

Cold drops began to fall on her upturned face. Large and salty from the sea, they slid down her cheeks like tears and down her neck under her garments.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling as merely the chill of the rain, she turned once more to the gate. Reaching out with icy fingers that shook, she unhooked the latch and pushed the gate open. It creaked eerily, but the sound was lost amongst the tussling trees and crashing waves that could now be heard in the distance.

It was a short walk to the beach, one she knew by heart. Her feet followed the well-worn path through the scrubby undergrowth without interference from her, stepping nimbly over nosy gnarled roots and dodging claw-like branches that strained at her skirts. The sand was wet with the rain that fell hard and fast, and her clothes were soon saturated, adding weight to every step. The path rose and dipped through the dunes, and her calves began to ache as she tread the familiar path; she was weakened, she knew, from the events of the past few hours, but she was determined to see this through.

Twice she stopped, her heart refusing to beat as she peered vainly into the darkness, first at this boulder, then at this suspiciously shaped trunk. Knowing there could be nothing more than dry, scratching shrubbery but frightened, just the same, that someone was there.

Watching.

Sternly, she wrenched her eyes away and scolded herself mentally. No one had seen her leave, she was sure of it, and if anyone was to look for her, the woman who had proved herself a true and worthy friend time and again would look out for her, cause a diversion or fable to distract them.

The path meandered down, down, and on she plodded in the sodding rain, until it suddenly opened onto a wide expanse of coastal rock. The sandy track continued to her left down to the beach, but instead she stepped carefully onto the rock, hugging her bundle close. It was slick with rain, and she cried out as her shoe slipped, falling sideways and reaching out with her empty hand to catch herself. As she sat for a moment in the pouring rain, she questioned what she was doing and why, and she stared out at the huge, black ocean and craved the empty bliss that would accompany hurling herself into its depths.

Instead, she stood up and took tiny, measured steps to the edge. Wet strands of hair whipped across her face and the cold air caused tears to sting her eyes. She heard, rather than saw the angry waves smashing onto the rocks hundreds of meters below. Shivering, she stared at the sheer rock cliff face and imagined falling to what would certainly be her death. What she had longed for moments earlier suddenly seemed madness and she was glad for the passing of that fleeting insanity.

Reaching beneath her garments, she brought out the bundle that was wrapped in a blanket, the pale light reflecting dark stains in the fabric. Her eyes fell on them, and she shuddered. Taking a deep breath, she hurled the bundle over the edge, watching the edges unravel and flutter like the wings of a bird mid-flight. On the wind, she thought she heard a faint, plaintive cry.

A sigh slipped from her mouth. It was done.

She wanted to weep for what could have been, but she would not let herself. She was beyond that, now. All of this could be put behind her. The months of hiding and fear could be put to rest, and her life could begin again.

Now she had to get back to the house before she was missed. Guests were still traipsing through her house, drinking and laughing.

It would be morning, soon. The sun would rise and it would be another glorious Australian day and although she wouldn’t be happy, although she could never be happy again, she would at least be safe.

It was as she was turning to go, that she saw the black shape standing several meters behind her. She blinked, sure she was imagining it.

Was that a man? Had he seen -?

Hello? she croaked, her mind racing. Who is it?

No answer.

The shape moved towards her, slowly, seeming to enjoy each step as her fright increased.

What did he want? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

She judged him to be about the same weight, but taller, and most likely stronger. In her current state of weakness, she’d never be able to fight this person off.

Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape. Behind her was the treacherous ledge, in front of her the man was closing in.

Could she run? Was there still time?

Who are you? she tried again. In the same instant, the moon shuffled out from behind a cloud, bathing them in a ghostly glow and lighting up a face she knew well.

You! she breathed. Terror sliced through her as she saw the naked hatred that lurked there. She took a step back; her eyes widening in fear as her foot teetered on the edge of the cliff. She tried to regain her balance, her arms flailing in the air.

Panic seized her as the figure reached out a hand, and she lurched away. Her foot skidded further on the uneven ground – or was she pushed?

Then she was falling faster than she had ever fallen before, plunging down into the inky blackness.

She screamed.

Chapter One

Kelmscott, Western Australia, 1984

A hot day. So hot, sweat was a constant slippery companion, melting thighs together and plastering shirts to backs. The dreary brown brick house with the tiled roof in the same shade sat flat and unimaginatively at the end of a quiet, narrow lane in the heart of Kelmscott, Western Australia; another snaking limb from the giant squid of streets lined with suburban houses. The front lawn was little more than a patch of dead grass, a dry bottlebrush grew staunchly on the edge of the property, while the petunias in the little rectangular garden were shriveled and lifeless, having died from the intense heat reflected from the house the week before.

Inside, a fan ticked repetitively, pushing warm air around the pokey, low-ceilinged living room. A woman pushed dripping hair off her face with her forearm in the tiny kitchen and finished chopping up boiled eggs for a beetroot salad. She pushed them into the bowl with her knife, then glanced out of the back window to check on her children, who were playing on the back lawn with the boys from next door. Four thirty in the afternoon, and the heat showed no sign of relenting. She wondered if tonight would be another night where they’d pull their mattresses out onto the back lawn, braving the mosquitoes and other flying bugs to finally get some sleep in the cool night air.

The sprinklers on the back lawn were helicoptering, droplets of water flying about in a smooth silver arc, and three children stood on the brown grass in a neat row like soldiers, grave expressions on their small, damp faces; their general, an older, taller boy, before them. They were all skinny arms and legs, their skin tanned from an eternal summer of afternoons like this one. Clad in bathing suits, stretched and faded, their hair was stuck flat and wet to their skulls from when they’d chased each other, shouting and laughing, through the sprinklers earlier to cool off. Now the more serious, competitive game was to begin: a relay race.

Ok, shouted Alex, because he was the oldest, and the bossiest, and the one they all listened to. What you have to do is to run as fast as you can, jump over each sprinkler, touch the fence, then run back and touch your team mate’s hand. Each person runs twice and you have to touch each other’s hand. If you don’t, you’re disqualified. The children nodded seriously.

Now we choose teams, said Alex. I pick Josh. He pointed at the taller of the two boys.

That’s not fair! shouted Josh’s brother, Tom, knowing that meant he had to go with Penny, the quiet, reedy girl beside him. Penny shuffled her feet in embarrassment, looked down.

Fine, said Alex, rolling his eyes. I’ll go with Penny, then. We’ll still beat you anyway! On your marks - they lined up in a lunge, their toes digging into the grass in anticipation – get set, GO! Off shot the first runners, Penny and the other boy, Tom, while Alex and Josh cheered them on. Penny flew across the grass, leaping nimbly over the sprinklers, her thin legs quickly building up speed. Tom was slightly ahead of her, but she knew she could beat him. She dug a little deeper, then deeper still - they were at the fence already! She brushed the gritty asbestos with her fingers, then shot back to where Alex stood, jumping up and down in encouragement. She was neck and neck with Tom, but something was happening - he appeared to be slowing down, or maybe she was going faster? Her heart was nearly bursting out of her chest when she slapped her palm against her brother’s, a few seconds before Tom. She collapsed on the grass, gasping, then pulled herself to her feet to watch her brother’s progress.

Go, Alex, go Alex, Penny was chanting, when she saw her mum appear on the back veranda. She was wearing her apron and holding a tray in her hand.

Kids! shouted Mum, carrying the tray to the old wooden table that stood under the patio. Drinks! Icy poles! The children whooped, and ran up to the veranda, the shade of which provided slight, but still welcome relief from the heat. They chose their icy poles carefully; Alex wanted the sweet raspberry, but Penny was after the tangy orange that lingered on her tongue, while the kids from next door, inexperienced in choosing flavours, picked their favourite colours (Alex and Penny exchanged looks as Josh picked the blue: blue was bubble gum flavour, and everyone knew bubble gum was the worst). The children sucked as they stood there, little chests still heaving from the last race, while Mum poured them each a cup of cordial.

Guess what, Mum, Penny ran faster than Tom! said Alex excitedly, his face glowing.

But you’re the one who made us win, Penny pointed out quickly. Alex’s expression changed to one of conceit. I’m the fastest in my class, he boasted. Everyone wants me on their team for Sports Day. Penny looked at him in admiration, as only a little girl can look at her older brother.

Well done, Alex, said Mum, smiling. Well, I’m glad you’re all enjoying yourselves - she fanned herself with her hand, – but isn’t it a little hot for running?

The sprinklers make us cool, though! said Alex. Mum sank into one of the deck chairs, crossed her feet on the chair beside her and rested her forehead in her hands. She closed her eyes. Penny sat down beside, imitating her posture.

Are you tired, Mum? she asked, tipping her icy pole up to suck out all of the melted juice that pooled tantalisingly at the bottom of the tube.

Yes, your father was studying late last night, and you know I can’t sleep before he comes to bed. Mum blinked sleepily at them.

Where’s Dad now?

At university, you know that, Alex, said Mum. He’s got an exam today. Let’s pray he passes it. And after that, only two more to go. She sighed. Four whole years, she said, almost as if to herself. Such a long, hard time. But it will be worth it. Smiling now, she patted Penny on the head. I’m just thankful I have such wonderful children, which makes it all so much easier. They grinned back at her.

Oh! said Mum. I almost forgot. Report cards!

Yay! Alex cheered. I’ll go get mine. He dashed off to the house, a flurry of arms and legs. There was a yell from over the fence; the two boys looked up.

That’s our mum, said Josh. We gotta go.

See ya another time then, said Mum. The boys took off across the grass, pulled themselves over the grey asbestos fence and disappeared into the backyard next door. Penny nudged her chair closer to her mum.

Don’t you want to show me your report card, sweetie? asked Mum, closing her eyes again with a yawn.

I want to see Alex’s first.

Fair enough. Alex came out the house and they sat together, the three of them, looking at his marks and comments as he beamed with pride.

Well done, my darling, said Mum, tousling his hair. You’ve done very well this term! Penny smiled at her brother too, basking in the reflective glow of maternal pleasure that surrounded them. Then Alex broke the spell, ran onto the lawn, skipping and dancing and twirling, the dusk light catching his hair, glinting off the individual fibres, warming his skin so that he was bathed in a pure, golden hue.

Look at me, Mum, look at me! he shouted as he jumped and leapt, his energy expressing itself in the form of a vigorous little boy-dance.

I’m looking! said Mum, raising a hand to shade against the glare.

I’m looking! echoed Penny, leaning her head on her mum’s soft shoulder.

Don’t you want to play too, Penny? asked Mum, without taking her eyes off Alex.

Oh no, said Penny. I’ll just watch.

2004

Penny kicked languidly with her toes as she floated in the clear, cool water. Only her face showed above the water in a pale oval, and only the perfectly blue sky overhead filled her vision. The muffled underwater sounds of her small splashes and the musical lapping of the liquid against the edge of the pool blocked out all other noise completely. Not even the droning of a nearby lawnmower disturbed her relaxed state. She felt as though she could drift away and disappear altogether.

Somewhere, she heard a voice calling.

No, not now.

She kept her eyes shut, and ducked underwater, letting the water soothe and flow over her, letting her arms and legs hang limply. Every muscle, every tendon and ligament that had been tightly contracted during her eight kilometer run that morning she allowed to slacken. Her long hair billowed around her like seaweed and she gazed down at the bottom of the pool where light danced and played in golden, skipping circles. The air in her lungs slowly bubbled out as she floated eerily to the top of the water. Not moving, not breathing. Not thinking.

Simply letting herself be.

She resurfaced, finally, to find her state of calm rudely interrupted.

Penelope Madeleine Waters, snapped her mother, glaring at her from the side of the pool. Didn’t you hear me calling you just now?

Penny’s chest began to feel tight. Squeezing the water from her locks, she breathed deeply and took her time in answering.

Sorry, Mum, she said, not looking up at her. She emerged from the pool, dripping, and grabbed the towel that was hanging nearby on the fence.

I asked if you’d checked the paper this morning. Her mother handed it to her. Penny didn’t have to look carefully at it to see the bright red circles that defaced the black and white writing. Erin Waters had been hard at work already, and it was only 7:30 am.

Thanks, she scrunched the paper up and put it under arm without looking at it, slipped on her thongs that sat by the gate and exited the pool area.

Well, aren’t you going to see what I’ve highlighted? persisted her mother, following her.

Later.

Penny dried herself off and entered the house, the cool inside air hitting her with a blast and raising goose bumps on her still damp skin. Summer was scorching Perth, as it usually did, and right now they were suffering through a February heat wave. Temperatures had reached forty degrees for several days in a row, keeping tempers short and sparking several bushfires around the city. For once, Penny was glad she was back at her parents’ house, with its immaculate gardens, large pool and comfortable air-conditioning. If nothing else in her life was going right, at least she could be miserable in luxury.

Penny. Mum had followed her to her bedroom and was standing in the doorway, a look of consternation on her face. Penny, this has got to stop.

What do you mean, Mum? Penny began to peel off her bathers in the hope that her mother would get the point and leave, letting them pool into a wet puddle on the floor. Her mother looked away, but stayed where she was.

I’m talking about your life. You might not be concerned about it, but I am.

Mum was as persistently irritating as a mosquito. She’d been hounding Penny for weeks to find a job, and Penny was tired of it. She was tired of thinking about it and stressing about it. She was tired of attempting to make decisions when she didn’t know what she wanted.

Good, you think about it then, and let me know when you’ve figured it out for me.

Penny slipped into a light summer dress, looking into the mirror for approval as she did so. Her dark hair curled wet into the nape of her neck; her skin was bronzed from a summer in the harsh sun. The green patterned dress drew out a similar shade in her almond-shaped eyes, making them appear larger than usual. Not bothering with make-up, she twisted her hair into a low knot and dug in her wardrobe for a pair of sandals.

Erin sighed loudly from the doorway.

You can’t stay here forever, you know, she said sharply.

I know, that’s why I’m going out, Penny ducked under her mum’s outstretched arm and down the hallway. Grabbing her car keys and wallet, she blew her mum a breezy kiss and was gone.

**

Tension gripped Erin by the shoulders. She wanted to shake Penny. Her daughter was being infuriatingly vague lately. Had been ever since the accident.

Penny had taken a break from work - okay, maybe that was for the best. But she hadn’t moved on since then. Didn’t seem interested in searching for jobs. Spent her days sleeping in, swimming, mooching around the house. The time to act was now, before too much time had passed. Why wouldn’t she see reason?

Erin gritted her teeth. Penny could just be so stubborn, in that same quiet way her father was. Erin just didn’t know how to get through to her anymore. Their interactions lately had been brittle; as if any moment their connection would splinter, shattering any relationship that existed between them.

A sudden memory took hold, of the way Penny had clung to her legs as a little girl, while her brother, Alex, tore from his mother’s hand. She felt the ghostly imprint of those little hands on her skin and was stabbed with a sudden longing so fierce she gasped.

**

The day was glorious. At the beach, waves gently lapped at the shoreline in a hypnotic rhythm. Beyond the white wash, the sand dropped off suddenly into the calming indigo of deeper water. A few sailboats sailed peacefully in the distance, and there was the loud gurgle of a jet ski that was tearing and leaping through the waves out to sea. Gulls circled and cried overhead, searching for a fisherman’s leftover bait or a beachgoer’s unwanted sandwich.

A couple jogged past. Small children splashed happily under their mothers’ careful eyes or paddled on boards. A few dug with spades and buckets, filling them, then tipping them out again, or making huge, elaborate sandcastles with turrets and moats, only to find immense pleasure in destroying them with their rambunctious feet. A family nearby had set up a gazebo and were cooking sausages on their gas barbecue, spreading the quintessential smell of an Australian summer.

Penny tilted back her head and let the rays soak into her skin. She was lying on her back on her stripy towel, resting on her elbows, a drink in one hand and book in the other. She was watching a group of children, who were swimming out to the pontoon. She’d seen them earlier; two boys and a girl, who she assumed was one of the boy’s sister, making sandcastles. The girl had spent nearly an hour building an intricate moat and tower, and when the boys had seen it they’d jumped all over it, smashing it. The girl had gone crying to her mum, but when her brother and his friend had ran off to go swimming, she’d dried her tears and ran after them, forgiving them in an instant. Both boys had nearly reached the pontoon now, but she was struggling behind. As Penny watched, her brother pulled himself up onto the platform, then his friend clambered up. The girl called out to her brother, a little desperately, it sounded to Penny, and for a moment Penny thought he was going to ignore her. But then he turned and offered her his hand, pulling her onto the platform next to him, where she collapsed, panting.

The boy tossed his wet hair out of his eyes, laughing with his friend, and she thought of Mark and his luxurious, thick mop of hair that was forever in his face.

No. She pushed the thought away. There would be no thinking of Mark to spoil this moment. Or any moment.

Ever.

Again.

She angrily flicked away an ant that was crawling onto her towel and then started as her phone started to belt out a familiar melody.

Emma!

Penny! squealed Emma in her ear, and Penny held it away for a moment, wincing. So nice of you to call! her friend joked. Penny couldn’t help laughing, the dark cloud encircling her lifting.

Thought it was time for a good yack, she agreed. Emma Boyle was her long-time best friend, who had moved down south a few months ago for work. The two of them had always been close, and despite the distance, they kept in close touch.

How are you doing? Emma’s sweet tones came through the line.

Penny stiffened. I’m fine. She didn’t want to discuss herself right now. What about you? How’s work? How’s Jayden?

Ugh, Emma sighed.

What is it? Are you having problems at work?

No, no. Work is great. I work with the nicest bunch of people. There’s just something about people down here, you know? They are so, so genuine. They’re always offering advice and asking about my family. Like who in the city even does that?

Penny had always found it hard to make friends, even with the girls she worked with at the hospital. How she missed Emma! The tears that were so close to the surface these days threatened again to break.

Penny? Are you there?

I’m here, she said quickly, realising Emma had been talking on.

Is something the matter?

No, no, all good, I just got distracted for a moment. Penny took a sip of iced tea, finding the sweet coolness soothing.

So what’s up then? she asked Emma. Out in the water, the two boys were performing back flips off the pontoon. They’d definitely had their oats that morning.

Well, Jayden and I broke up, Emma sighed again.

What? Why, I thought everything was going great?

Yeah, it was going pretty well, but he started getting all over-protective, you know? Like I couldn’t even chat to the guy who was selling me hot dogs. How unbelievable is that? I started feeling like I needed a little air.

I suppose the hot dog guy was totally unattractive, too, suggested Penny slyly.

Emma gave one of her characteristically loud squeals. Penny! Okay, you got me. He was immensely good-looking. Penny grinned. The boys had always loved Emma. She was always fun and full of laughs. She could brighten up one of the dullest days just with her presence, but at the same time she had the hugest heart of anyone Penny had met.

Oh, Emma, she said. The trail of broken hearts is getting longer, you know that right?

As long as it leads me to the right heart.

Hmm, Penny took another swig of iced tea. Well, I’m sorry to hear that, anyway.

Thanks hon. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come down for a few days. Catch up, hang out? I have a few days off over the weekend.

I thought you had that thing for your dad’s birthday?

Nope, that’s been postponed. And I’m super excited because it means I can do whatever I want. Which is to see you! So please come, Emma begged.

Getting away right now sounds very tempting.

Emma interpreted her meaning correctly. Your mum still giving you a hard time?

Yeah, she doesn’t stop. Penny sifted through the sand with her fingers. Let me think about it, okay?

You do that. Get back to me soon! They said goodbye and Penny hung up, returning her gaze to the glistening sand and deep blue water.

The moon was bright and full when Penny pulled into the drive-way late that night. She’d lazed around at the beach for hours, then wandered past the shops that lined the foreshore. Spotting the cinema, she’d made a sudden decision to see a movie that was playing. She’d bought a box of popcorn and sat munching it alone in the dark theatre. It had been something she’d never done before, and, although it made her feel lonely and a little sad, it meant she could return home a little later. Home, with all of its memories.

Now, as she tiptoed into the kitchen, she was surprised to find the light on. She went to turn it off, and jumped