Navigating my way out of the city in my red rocket was easy. I loved the Yarra Valley wine region and wondered if I’d be happier living out of the city, surrounded by animals and wide open spaces. My parents were xenophobic city dwellers. Whenever I’d tried to bring up my mother’s childhood on the Mornington Peninsula, I was shut down with a ferocity I couldn’t understand.

Chapter Seven

Leo

The fights were barbaric—men beating each other half to death—and the guilt should’ve weighed heavily on my soul. But it was a consensual arrangement. I needed an outlet, and fight night was it. The prize money wasn’t great, but money wasn’t my sole motivator. The sense of relief I felt from pummelling men into the ground was disturbing. My rage just poured out of my fists, and for a few hours, I didn’t feel like a ticking time bomb with a fast-burning fuse. There was something addictive about putting myself in the firing line, to feel the pain and to see exactly what I could endure.

The stunning young blonde staring at me through the cage had snapped me out of doing something really stupid. She looked like a displaced angel caught in Hell. I couldn’t take my damned eyes off her and was momentarily mesmerised. She held my stare with a steely resolve. I was intrigued and more than a little turned on. She was completely out of place, but there was a strength emanating from her that told me she could handle herself.

My phone’s ring tone interrupted my thoughts.

“Leo. Hey. It’s James.”

“Hey, mate. What’s up?”

“I’m working a function tonight, and the bartender has pulled out last minute. I told the boss lady I might know someone who could step in.”

I paused. My body was screaming at me from the fights, but I could always do with the extra money.

“Where and what time?”

When he gave me the details, I didn’t respond immediately.

“She pays almost double the normal rate,” he continued.

Fuck it. I could handle it. Fight night had been good for me. “Okay. I’ll be there. Thanks for the job, mate.”

Dressed in black suit trousers and a white button-down shirt, I jumped in my old Jeep and headed out of the city. I wanted to make a detour to see one of my best friends, Beatrix, who also happened to make a mean cup of coffee.

Bea’s Beans had recently been profiled in an online travel magazine as having the best coffee in the wine region, which I thought was a massive understatement. It was easily the best coffee I’d had anywhere. Tourists were making a point to stop in to sample her special blend, and her little business was booming.

“Leo!” Bea screeched from behind the coffee machine.

I pushed my Ray Bans on top of my head and smiled. “Hiya, Bea. How are you?”

“Better for seeing you. What brings you out this way?”

“I hear your coffee isn’t too bad.” I winked.

“Can you have it here or do you need it to go?”

“I’ve got a bit of time.” I pointed to the blackboard menu above her head. “Better get me one of those toasted sandwiches too.”

“Coming right up, handsome.”

I took a seat by the window, grateful the lunch rush was over. I had half an hour for some caffeine and carb loading. The Saturday paper was open on the table, and I flicked casually through the pages. A small article on Melbourne’s illegal fight club scene caught my attention. I knew the scene might change sooner or later, but I wasn’t looking for accolades or recognition. I was looking to expel the anger no amount of therapy would quash.

Bea came out from behind the counter with my coffee and sandwich. “What happened to you?” she asked, leaning in to inspect the few plaster strips I’d placed over cuts on my face and hands.

“Oh, that’s nothing. I was out last night and got caught up in a fight. You should see the other guy.” I laughed, hoping she’d drop the subject.

“Can you sit down for a bit?” I took my seat and gestured towards the empty place opposite me.

“Have you hired someone to help you out yet?”

“Angus has been hassling me to let Kayla take over a few shifts, but I don’t want to give it up my full control. I feel like it’s a big part of who I am.” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side, indicating the framed pictures on the wall. “You’d understand that.”

I knew exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s different, Bea.”

“I know. I just wish…” She shook her head, knowing this was a pointless conversation we’d had too many times.

“Hey, is it okay if I crash at yours tonight?” I asked. “I was out late last night and don’t really want to drive back to the city after work tonight.”

“Of course. The side door to the spare room will be open. Let yourself in.”

“Thanks, Bea.”

A noisy family came bustling through the door, interrupting her train of thought. She leant down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said then went back behind the counter.

I had to get going anyway, so I took the last swig of coffee and gathered up my phone and keys.

“Bye, darlin’,” I called out as I walked towards the door. “Thanks again.”

Chapter Eight

Juliette

On my way to the coffee house I’d seen online, I’d taken a wrong turn and had become mesmerised by the Gruyere countryside, beautiful old houses and lavender fields. One particular home stood out. I pulled over on the side of the road and stood on the grassy verge to get a closer look. It was so quiet and peaceful. An occasional bird cry was the only noise to break the silence. I took a deep breath, and my lungs thanked me for the cool, fresh air despite the scent of lavender that, unlike most, I found offensive.

The house was a heartbreakingly beautiful double-storey stone farmhouse that appeared abandoned. Ivy grew with reckless abandon over large sections of it, and some of the stonework was crumbling. It didn’t look like the gardens had been tended in a really long time. Despite the state, I admired the drystone wall lining the property’s front boundary, adding to my budding love affair with this house. With no signs of life, I pushed the iron gate open and shuddered at the screeching sound it made. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was there, I walked through. I knew it was trespassing, but it really didn’t look like anyone lived there, and the idea of getting caught gave me a small rush.

I stepped gingerly from stone to stone in my peep-toe heels my mother had bought me. She insisted I dress “appropriately” for her functions and didn’t trust me to accomplish that goal myself. At twenty-five years old, my mother still treated me like an irresponsible child.

A brass plate was fixed to the wall next to the front door: “Gwendolyn.” I walked around the side of the house and stepped carefully through the overgrown garden beds to one of the large sash windows towards the back. Clearing a patch on the dirty glass with my hand, I peered in. The smudged pane made for poor visibility, but I could see sheets over the furniture. The whole place just felt sad and lonely.

Sitting back in my car, I glanced over to the house one more time, curious as to why I felt so incredibly drawn to it.

***

Bea’s Beans had an unassuming shopfront and was located only a few minutes’ drive from the beautiful farmhouse on the edge of a small township.

“Long black, please,” I ordered from the girl behind the counter.

“Take a seat. I’ll bring it over to you.”

“Sorry. I should’ve asked for it to go. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I got a bit sidetracked on my way to find you. You see, I read about this coffee online somewhere and had to check it out. Might have been a travel magazine. I’m not sure. Anyway, it’s just so beautiful around here and you also have the best coffee in the state, so you could say I’m in heaven.” I had no idea why I was rambling.