Ocean Child

by Tamara McKinley

  *

  Lulu woke, disorientated by the strong light and the white walls. The smell of disinfectant was all too familiar, and when she saw the white-coated doctor, she knew where she was. ‘The fire,’ she said, and coughed. ‘I couldn’t get out.’

  ‘Don’t try to speak,’ said Joe, edging the doctor aside. ‘You’ve taken in a lot of smoke, and you need to rest.’

  She stared at him in confusion. His hair was singed, his face smeared with soot, his clothes charred in places. ‘What are you doing here? What happened?’ The coughing fit lasted longer this time and her lungs and throat felt raw.

  ‘You’re safe, that’s all that matters,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll leave you to rest.’

  ‘No.’ Lulu struggled to sit up. ‘I want to go back to River View.’

  ‘You must stay and rest,’ the doctor said. ‘We don’t know what effect all this has had on your heart.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said between coughs as she clambered out of bed. ‘Joe, will you take me, or do I have to call a taxi?’

  ‘There’s nothing left to see.’ His dark eyes were full of regret. ‘Don’t go back, Lulu. You will only find it upsetting.’

  ‘I must.’ She took in her nightclothes and tied the belt on her dressing gown before she staggered down the hospital ward. ‘Where’s the way out?’

  ‘I really would advise you against leaving, Miss,’ stammered the doctor.

  ‘I’m a grown woman. I’m free to do whatever I want,’ she croaked, bending almost double with a coughing fit.

  ‘Please, Miss Pearson. You must rest – at least for tonight.’

  ‘Joe?’ She looked up at him, her lovely eyes ringed with weariness and sorrow. ‘Joe, please. Help me.’

  Joe exchanged a knowing look with the doctor and shrugged. ‘I reckon the lady knows her own mind, mate.’

  ‘You’ll have to sign a release form.’

  ‘I’ll sign anything you want,’ she rasped. ‘Just let me out of here.’

  With the form duly signed, she staggered towards the main door and would have fallen if Joe hadn’t grabbed her arm before leading her into the chill night air. Once she was installed in the passenger seat, he wrapped her in a horse blanket and handed her the flask of water. ‘Like it or not,’ he said grimly, ‘you’re going back tomorrow for a proper check-up.’

  ‘Just drive, Joe. I need to see what’s left of River View.’

  Lulu’s breathing was still ragged as she slowly climbed down and stood in the lane looking at the charred, smoking remains. The chimney was intact, standing like a lone sentinel among the rubble, but everything else was gone.

  ‘I heard about the fire on the two-way,’ said Molly, coming to stand beside her. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe, Lulu. I don’t know what I would have done if Joe hadn’t got to you in time.’

  Lulu stared at her, trying to digest the fact Molly was here. ‘Joe rescued me? But how did he know I was in danger?’

  ‘We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better,’ said Joe, giving his mother a stern look. ‘For now, I suggest you come back to Galway House with us.’

  Lulu glanced up at Joe and then turned her attention to a utility truck parked further up the lane. ‘I recognise that,’ she murmured. A cold tremor ran through her as realisation struck. ‘Did Gwen start the fire? Is she still here?’

  Molly took her hand. ‘I’ve spoken to the firemen,’ she said softly. ‘They found a body and a petrol can where the fire must have started. He reckons she must have got trapped as she lit it.’

  ‘The scream,’ Lulu murmured. ‘I heard a terrible scream. It was what woke me up.’ Tears of fatigue and sorrow coursed down her face. ‘What an awful way to die.’

  ‘Come on, Lulu, let’s get you home.’

  Lulu felt the strength of his arm around her shoulders, the grip of his fingers on her dressing gown and knew she could never face Galway House again. ‘Thank you for saving me, Joe,’ she said, easing away, ‘but I think I’ll book into a hotel for a few days before I go back to England.’

  ‘England? But I thought you were going to settle here?’

  She looked up into his puzzled eyes, her heart breaking. ‘I’ve lost the house I’ve loved since childhood, and the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with,’ she said sadly. ‘There’s nothing here for me any more.’

  Joe looked down at her in puzzlement as his large hands gently held her shoulders. ‘You’re talking in riddles, Lulu. You might have lost the house, but if I’m the man you think you’ve lost, then you’re very much mistaken.’

  Hope surged through her as she saw the sincerity in his expression. ‘But you and Eliza …’

  ‘There’s nothing between me and Eliza,’ he said softly. ‘What you saw the other day was Eliza grieving for Moonbeam. The mare broke her leg and had to be put down.’

  ‘The big truck parked outside,’ she breathed. ‘It was the vet’s?’

  He nodded and pulled her closer. ‘I have loved you Lulu Pearson from the moment I set eyes on you – but until this moment I never dared hope you could love me. Do you, Lulu? Do you really?’ His brown eyes were warm and intense as he looked down at her.

  ‘You’ve been in my thoughts ever since I left here,’ she murmured. She softly touched his cheek, saw hope light in his eyes and felt a rush of love. ‘Of course I love you, Joe, but we come from such opposite worlds, have such different ambitions – can it really work for us?’

  His smile warmed his eyes and softened the lines of his face as his arms wrapped about her waist. ‘I’m up for the challenge if you are,’ he said softly. ‘We have the rest of our lives to see what we can make of it – and as long as we continue to love one another the way we do at this moment, then yes, I’m up for the challenge.’ Lulu sank into his embrace, leaning against him, feeling his heart race between them as he kissed her.

  The touch of his lips was infinitely sweet, promising everything she could ever hope for. At last she was complete – and where she truly belonged. She was home.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book could not have been written without the help of many people in Tasmania. Thank you to Tracey Wyllie for giving me so much of your precious time and for answering all my questions about breeding horses. Thanks too for the advice and information generously given by the Wishaws at their beautiful stud farm, and a huge thanks to Beryl Stevenson for her enthusiasm in opening up her address book. Her contact list was invaluable. To Jim Osborne and Bert Wicks I also give thanks for their seemingly endless knowledge of the Tasmanian Racing history.

  Last, but never least, I wish to thank my lovely, loyal friends, Tony and Diana Zanus for their generous hospitality and enduring friendship