I am filled with a sense of guilt. Not because her grief is my fault in any way, but because I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit storm of a life that I failed to realise she was navigating her own sadness.
I think of the teenager she would have been, pregnant, and then suddenly without a baby, and I wonder at the boyfriend who got her pregnant. I wonder if he supported her and helped her with her grief. I wonder if her dad, in his alcoholism, was capable of providing words of support.
‘Will you miss your work?’
She props her chin on my chest, her eyes drugged by satiation. My ego swells. I like seeing her like that and knowing I’m the reason for it.
‘The cabin crew stuff?’
I make a small shift of my head that passes as a nod.
‘In some ways,’ she says quietly. ‘I wanted to see the world as a kid, and my job’s enabled me to do that.’ She walks her fingers over my chest, capturing my hand in hers, holding it as though it’s an object of value, stroking it gently.
‘Where in particular?’ It’s small talk, but I feel like she needs it. Or maybe I do. It’s casual and easy, which is what I probably should have kept this all along. Knowing things about her, important things, makes me uncomfortable, like she’s trusted me with something I can’t deliver.
‘The pyramids.’ Her smile is sweet, self-deprecating. ‘As a child, that was the “ultimate” experience. I ticked it off my list two years into the job.’
‘What else was on your list?’
‘Oh, everywhere. I’ve been to so many places.’
‘Such as?’
‘Morocco, Rome, Paris, Tokyo, New York, London, Singapore, Cairo, Belgium—just about everywhere.’
‘And where have you missed?’
‘The Northern Lights,’ she says with a sigh. ‘I went to Canada once, thinking I’d see them, but I didn’t time it right. The night wasn’t clear enough. That’s definitely something I want to experience at least once.’
‘They’re spectacular.’
‘You’ve been?’
‘Mmm.’ I shift my hand out of hers, lifting it so I can reach for the glass of water on my side of the bed. I take a drink then rearrange myself, propping up on one elbow so I can see her better.
‘And are they breathtaking?’
You are breathtaking. The words swirl through me but I don’t say them. Instead, somewhat gruffly, I admit, ‘Yes. As you would imagine.’
She sighs, flopping back on the bed. ‘I’m jealous.’
‘You’ll get there.’
‘I know. It’ll be harder now I’m not flying. As cabin crew, it wasn’t such a big deal to jump on a crew seat and travel wherever I wanted.’
‘Is that why you took a job doing this?’
‘I didn’t take a job doing this.’ She gestures to our naked bodies and smiles at me, a smile that sparks a clunky reaction inside of my chest.
‘No?’ I return it, and the feeling is so spontaneous and so overwhelmingly natural that I swallow it almost immediately.
‘Nope.’ Her own smile shifts, and a small sigh escapes her lips. ‘It seemed like the easiest way to see the world.’ She nods. ‘I had a friend who’d got a job for Australian Air, and she recommended I apply. I did well at school, and I had a lot of hospitality experience. I was fortunate to get a placement straight away, doing domestic routes during my training and then onto international.’
‘I doubt “fortune” had anything to do with it. You strike me as someone who’d be excellent at your job.’
She laughs. ‘I slept with you when I was working for you.’
‘It’s different.’
‘Is it?’
‘You were temping.’ I lift my shoulders. ‘So you’ve quit?’
‘Yes.’ Her expression is serious. Her face is so expressive I feel I have an unfair advantage, like I can read her as one might a book. ‘After my dad died I was entitled to take some time, and I didn’t. I came back for the funeral—’ her voice shifts a little ‘—but there wasn’t much point sticking around. I wasn’t ready to pack up his house or anything. I just feel like there’s all this stuff I need to get on with. Photography, my life, responsibilities. Grown-up stuff.’
‘So the house is unoccupied?’
She nods. ‘I had it locked up for Future Cora to deal with. Unfortunately, that’s now me, so I’ll have to get back at some point soon to sort it out. I can’t leave it there indefinitely.’
‘Why don’t you want to do it?’
‘It’s just hard.’ Her eyes meet mine, and I feel her struggle and her honesty. ‘It’s like stepping back in time and, honestly, to a time I’d rather forget. Everything’s like it was before. My room. The kitchen.’ She shakes her head. ‘But so much more rundown. He drank himself into an early grave. I couldn’t stop him. I wasn’t enough of a reason for him to stop.’ She bites that full lower lip and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers, breathing her in, not particularly wanting to think about the fact I’ve doused my organs in liquor daily since learning the truth about my own father.
‘I tried. I really did. Before...the baby. But afterwards, the fight just left me.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘Is it?’ A crease forms between her brows. ‘I don’t know. I feel like he deserved better.’
‘We all make our own beds, Cora.’
‘Maybe.’ She sounds unconvinced.
‘And your boyfriend?’
‘Dave?’
‘That was the father?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you still speak to him?’
She pulls a face. ‘He was kind of a waste of space.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Oh, yeah. The sort of guy who was a legend in his own lunchbox. You know the sort. Small community, great at football, much adored, parents owned half the town, so he had a bit of money behind him, and he was drop-dead gorgeous. I fell head over heels for him and I think he liked the attention. What he didn’t like was the idea of monogamy, only I didn’t realise that until I was six months pregnant with his baby.’
I bite back a curse. ‘I see.’
‘Mmm. Walking in to find him in bed with someone else wasn’t exactly what I’d been planning on. It sounds stupid but I honestly thought he loved me. We were young; I was naïve.’ She frowns. ‘I think I probably wanted to be loved, you know? I wanted someone the opposite to my dad, someone who’d... I don’t know. Would make me feel part of a family. And he had a great family, big and happy.’
Her words feel accusatory when I know they’re not, but it’s a reminder that I can’t offer her what she wants—and I don’t plan on offering her anything more than this, anyway.
‘Maybe he did love you. Maybe the cheating was a mistake.’ The excuse surprises me. I don’t know why I make it for him. Perhaps to make her happy, to relieve her of some pain.
‘It doesn’t matter. Dave was a lifetime ago. I feel like I dodged a bullet in some ways.’ She pales. ‘Not because of the baby.’ Tears fill her eyes and that ache, right below my ribs, is back. ‘But because I found out he wasn’t being faithful and the stars fell from my eyes. It made it easier to leave, after—’
Her voice trails off into nothing.
‘I get it.’
And I do, but I also hate it. I don’t understand why, but I want to reach into Cora’s past and erase all this pain, I want to make things better for her. But I’m hardly anyone’s saviour. My path in life right now is bent on self-destruction and little more.
‘Do you ever hear from him?’
‘I hear of him, from time to time. Last I heard he was working on an oyster farm out of Broome.’
‘Married?’
‘Not that I know of.’ She shrugs. ‘Anyway, that’s all ancient history. I’m just focusing on my future now, trying to write th
e life I want for myself, you know.’
I can’t imagine having that kind of attitude, but I nod because I want Cora to have whatever she wants, and the new life she’s planning sounds pretty perfect for her. ‘I’d like to see more of your photos.’
‘My portfolio?’
‘Sure. But I meant the ones you took this morning.’
‘Right.’ She smiles, but there’s a sense of reserve in her expression. ‘They’re rough. I was just practising.’
‘Show me.’
She moves her hand towards my belly, running her fingers up towards my chest, then lower, following a line of dark hair that arrows towards my cock. Her eyes lift to mine, and there’s a silent challenge in them.
‘Soon.’
And in that single word I feel a rebirth of my needs and wants, so I jerk my head in a small sign of approval.
‘Soon will be fine.’
Her smile is pure sexiness. ‘I’m glad to hear it, Mr Hart.’ And her head drops to my chest, then follows the same path as her finger, so I suck in a deep breath and prepare for what she’s about to do.
There’s no preparing for it though. The moment she wraps her mouth around my length I feel the strangest sense that I’ve come home. I refuse to analyse it—I don’t have the brainpower right now, anyway—but that doesn’t change the fact there’s perfection in this moment. Sheer, undeniable perfection...six more days of it.
CHAPTER TEN
Five nights left in Sydney
THEO’S LOOKING AT ME in that way I’m now very, very used to. Like he doesn’t know if he wants to shake me or hug me. Pity is in his eyes, the same pity I’ve come to know often, that I resent with every fibre of my being.
‘How’s Asha?’ The question is calculated. If anything can relax him, it’s talking about his fiancée. I offer him a beer from the fridge. He takes it, shifting his gaze to the view and, sure enough, a smile moves over his face when he thinks of the woman he’s going to marry. ‘Busy. Amazing.’
His happiness should make me happy but it doesn’t. Much like Jagger and Grace, I feel like my brothers both exist in bubbles now, completely self-contained and separate from me. They have these lives—rich, full lives—and even if it weren’t for the fact I’m not a real Hart I’d still feel on the outside.
‘The new product line’s going well?’
‘She’s killing it.’ His pride is tangible. ‘She knew it would be huge but it’s dominating sales in its demographic; they can barely keep up with demand.’
‘She must be thrilled.’ I think I sound normal. It’s a normal thing to say, right? So why does Theo whip his head around to look at me, a frown settling over his face.
‘Yeah. How’s the casino?’
I shift my shoulders. ‘Good. The development’s coming together well. The Roosevelts deal’s almost completed.’
‘And you?’
I drain half of the beer before I can answer, then cradle it in the palm of my hand. Here we are, at the crux of things. ‘Is that why you came out here?’
His eyes narrow. ‘Jagger says you’re not returning his calls.’
Something hollows me inside. It’s true. Twice a day, every day, Jagger’s been calling, and I’ve been ignoring them. Ignoring him. I close my eyes and see their beautiful daughter and feel...the opposite of Felicity. I’m happy for him, theoretically, but seeing that biological connection and knowing myself to be completely alienated from anything like that fills me with an inexplicable rage. Not at the baby, not at Jagger, not at anyone I can think of. It’s just a free-floating anger that’s eating me alive.
Except when I’m with Cora.
Or drunk.
I should have left Australia by now. Being here isn’t good for anyone. Europe beckons. Or South America. Somewhere far from this, them, my life.
But Cora... I told her a week and I don’t want to walk away from that. I’m not stupid enough to think we can sleep together longer than that without it getting messy. Not messy for me—I’m an expert at keeping my feelings removed from my day-to-day life, but Cora isn’t, and I don’t want to hurt her just because she makes me feel good.
‘I got his calls.’
Theo’s eyes narrow. ‘You should make an effort. Go see them, and the baby.’
I’m silent. He’s moving towards shaking me, I think. The hug prospect seems like a distant memory.
‘Grace has been asking about you.’
Guilt spears me. Grace is incredible. Even though I’ve spent the last year and a half in a drunken, self-pitying fog, I’m not blind. I see what she’s like, what she’s done for Jagger. Perhaps what she’s even done for Theo, because I don’t think a relationship was on his horizon at all until he saw how happy Jagger was.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, man. I think she’s hurt that you’re here in Sydney and you’ve only been over once.’
I finish the beer, placing the bottle down a little heavier than I’d intended so it makes a cracking noise in the silence of the room. ‘Fine. I’ll go see them. Happy?’
He doesn’t rise to the bait. ‘I’m here for the rest of the week; we can go together. How’s tomorrow?’
Something snags in my throat. I feel like I’m being pressed against a wall by a huge rock. I hate this feeling, I hate it. ‘Fine.’ I shrug with assumed nonchalance, contemplating calling Edward and having the jet fuelled. Maybe Cora could come with me—we could have the next six days somewhere different, somewhere better, without my brothers and this mess. Maybe we could go to the Northern Lights. The idea of making love to her beneath the stars makes Jagger, Theo, Grace, Felicity, Asha, all fade into nothing. But Theo is right here, staring across at me, waiting for an answer.
‘Tomorrow?’
I want to tell him to get lost but instead I nod.
His eyes sweep through the apartment. I don’t know what he expects to find. The place is immaculate, courtesy of the twice-daily maid service.
‘Amanda mentioned you’ve been seeing someone.’
I still, the idea of my casino’s head of security speaking to my brother about my personal life making me furious.
‘Has she? That’s not invasive at all,’ I snap sarcastically.
‘I asked.’ He holds a hand up to silence me. ‘In fact, I pretty much interrogated.’ He grimaces. ‘Come on, man. You’ve shut Jagger and me out. Do you think I want to go to the casino staff to find out what you’re up to? How you’re living?’
More guilt. I want him to go. I want to be alone. No, I want to be with Cora but hell, I don’t know if even Cora would be able to pull me out of this.
‘I’m living fine.’
‘Sure you are. You’re getting wasted every chance you get, travelling non-stop, and fucking anything that moves. You’re completely fine.’
I pace to the fridge, wrenching the door open, pulling out another beer, cracking the top off it before I answer him. I know I should calm down. I know this is coming from a good place. I know he’s worried—that he’s been worried about me since I told them both about Ryan.
‘Listen—’ he sighs, slows his voice down, and I know Theo well enough to know he’s trying to ‘manage’ me ‘—what Dad did—’
‘We’ll never know what Dad did. He let me live with you. But why? For what reason?’
‘Maybe we’ll never know,’ Theo says, and something inside of me snaps but I don’t give in to it. I’ve said it often enough—the not knowing is what’s killing me. I hate it. I hate that I have no anchor to the reality of my being.
‘He raised you as his son. He wanted you.’ After a slight pause, ‘He loved you as much as he loved anyone: as much as he was capable of loving.’
‘Do you remember what he was like with me?’ I pierce Theo with a dark stare and feel the truth of my deepest-held feelings slipping through me, falling inexorably towards the surfa
ce, towards a light I want to ignore.
Theo, at least, has the grace to nod. ‘He was a bastard to you a lot of the time.’
‘You say he loved me? Honestly, half the time it felt like he hated me.’
‘He expected a lot of you because he knew you were capable of it.’
‘I was taught not to cry, not to get angry, not to care about anything other than his damned business. I was taught not to feel anything.’
‘But now you feel everything and you have no idea what to do with that. You think you’re the only one he screwed up? Jesus, he had no time for any of us. You’re lucky you got any attention from him at all.’
‘Lucky?’ The word is wrenched from me.
‘Fine.’ Theo holds his hands up appeasingly. ‘Not lucky, but we can’t rewrite the past. We can’t wake Dad up from the dead and ask him what the hell he was thinking. You’ve hired an investigator and maybe one day he’ll have the answers you need but you can’t keep freezing us out until then, man.’
‘What do you want from me?’ The words emerge deadpan. Calm. But the kind of calm that’s like the eye of a storm. I can feel it raging inside of me, I can feel how close it is to bursting.
‘You have to get a grip on your emotions, Holden. Don’t let your feelings control you, block them out. Think only with your head, not your heart.’
My head though is the problem. I work in facts and logic and I can’t make sense of any of this. I lock my gaze to Theo’s, wondering if he has a sense for how overwhelmed I am by this.
‘I wish you’d just leave me the fuck alone. Just let it go. Let me go.’
He stares at me for several seconds then shakes his head. ‘You’re such an ass. I’ll pick you up in the morning. Be ready and be sober.’
* * *
My temper explodes. Not immediately. No, immediately I concentrate on getting drunk. I’m halfway through a bottle of Scotch before my anger rises, unstoppable, a force that is unending, unconquerable.
I’m a child again, being left on the doorstep of Ryan Hart, my life changed for ever with the realisation that my mother doesn’t want me. That I’m too much for her, that I interrupt her lifestyle with my needing food and conversation, my endless barrage of questions.
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