by Jaye Ford
He topped the crest of the hill and pulled up sharply. Jodie and the other woman were sitting on their luggage at the side of the road. What the hell were they doing there? Why not just stand in the middle of the road and ask to be run down? At least his instincts had left them in a safer place.
His tyres crunched on the gravel as he steered off the road. Jodie stood as he reversed back. So she wasn’t the one who’d hurt an ankle. Her feet were firmly planted and her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, and he guessed it’d take more than a walk in the dark to knock her off her pins.
‘Need a lift?’ he called as he stepped out of the car.
‘About an hour ago,’ she called back and the tone of her voice said they weren’t having a party out here. She waited until he’d walked over then said, ‘What happened to the damn cab?’
‘A tree.’ Matt waited a beat while she opened her mouth and closed it again, as the concept took some of the heat out of her reproach.
‘The cabbie hit a tree?’
‘Yeah, you’re lucky it happened before he picked you up or you’d have more than a tumble in the dirt to worry about.’
‘Is he all right?’
‘He’s on his way to hospital but a broken leg seems to be the worst of it.’
Up close, the two of them looked cold and damp and the cheery mood on his first trip out had definitely taken a hike. The other woman was sitting on a suitcase with one foot propped on a bag. Her shoe was still on and the leg of her jeans was pulled down over the ankle so he couldn’t tell how bad the injury was but from the way she was huddled in her coat, she looked like she’d probably die of cold before the pain got her. He knelt on one knee beside her, kept his bad knee angled away. ‘What happened?’
She shot Jodie a look – the kind that implied she’d already had a few words to say on that matter. ‘Jodie didn’t like it back down there. Thought we’d be safer if we took a walk.’ She rolled her eyes.
Matt frowned up at Jodie. ‘Probably better if you’d stayed where you were. You’re sitting ducks here. I was lucky to see you.’
‘Thanks for that. I’ll try to remember next time I’m stranded out here.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘Right now, Corrine needs to get to the car. Can you give me a hand?’
He looked back at Corrine. ‘How bad is it? Do you need a hospital?’
‘A hot spa would be my first choice but Bald Hill will do. I think it’s just a sprain.’ She held a hand out to him. ‘I’m Corrine, by the way, and I’m very happy to meet you again.’
‘Matt Wiseman,’ he said, taking her hand, lifting her to her feet. ‘Nothing like a bit of excitement on a Friday night, hey?’
She curled one arm around his neck, the other over Jodie’s and used the two of them as crutches. After half-a-dozen steps, he could see it would take them an age like that.
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he said, hooked an arm under her knees and picked her up.
‘Oh, I didn’t expect that. Are you sure? You’re limping yourself.’
‘It’s no big deal,’ he said, figuring a little more physio wouldn’t hurt.
She fastened her arms around his neck, purred into his ear, ‘Well, then, you can come to my rescue any day.’
Matt chuckled. The helpless-female thing had never really appealed but a good-looking woman in his arms was better than a kick in the head for his efforts tonight.
He helped her into the back of the car, left her arranging her leg along the seat and found Jodie strongarming a suitcase into the boot. He reached in to give her a hand, bumped her as he heaved the weight and on contact, she snapped her arm away. He looked up in surprise. She took a step back, stood with her feet apart, arms at her sides, fists bunched like she was ready to throw a punch. That was one hell of a defence reflex. As he stood upright, she took another couple of steps back, looked away like she wasn’t sure what to do, then turned and walked to the pile of luggage.
They collected the rest of the bags and she stood to the side while he loaded the car. No more nasty bumps that way, Matt guessed. He let her find her own way around to the passenger door, half expecting her to be sitting with her friend when he climbed into the driver’s seat. But she was next to him, already belted in. As he fumbled with the keys, she dragged both hands through her hair, ran them over her face, held them there a second as she pulled in a deep breath.
He started the engine and said, ‘Everything okay?’
She folded her arms across her chest before she turned her face to him. ‘Yep. Great.’ She smiled a little. It looked like it took some work, like she had to unclench her jaw before her lips would soften into a curl. The effort was worth it though and made up for her keep-your-distance act outside. ‘Thanks for coming to get us.’
‘No problem.’ He U-turned onto the bitumen and picked up speed on the familiar road. Beside him, Jodie rubbed her hands up and down her arms, crossed her legs. He turned the heating up a couple of notches.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘How’s my car?’
‘It’s seen better days.’
‘Is there any chance you could patch it up so I can drive home on Sunday?’
Matt shrugged. ‘Can’t answer that. You’ll have to wait till the old man takes a look at it in the morning. He’s the mechanic. I’m just the hired help. Depends what parts he’s got but I’d suggest you wait for him to call tomorrow morning before you make other arrangements.’
Corrine spoke up from the back seat. ‘I’m more concerned about how we get to our cottage tonight. What do we do if there’s no taxi?’
Matt ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. ‘I could run you over. Where are you staying?’
‘The Old Barn On The Hill,’ Jodie said. ‘Do you know it?’
The Old Barn. Bloody hell. In his head, he saw its small boxy shape, the unpainted timber frame, the crude steps up to the front door – and his gut tightened. It must have changed some if it was being rented to tourists. ‘Yeah, I know it. Hope it’s in better condition than the last time I saw it.’
‘When was that?’ Corrine called.
He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘A few years ago. Actually, I’m surprised it’s still standing.’
‘Great, Jodie,’ Corrine said. ‘It’s a barn and it’s falling down.’
‘No, no.’ Jodie looked over her shoulder then back at Matt. ‘The website said new owners did a major renovation on it last year. It’s a B & B. It looked really nice.’
Matt raised his eyebrows. The Old Barn a B & B. What a joke. ‘Did the website say anything about its history?’
‘Something about being shearing sheds at one time, and storing feed and machinery,’ she said.
That’d be right. Squatters and a police search weren’t stories that would draw the tourists. ‘Well, you don’t want to be stuck out there without transport. You better take the loan car for a couple of days. It’s a bomb but it’ll get you from A to B and back again.’
‘What do you mean “out there”? The website said it was only a few minutes from the town centre.’ Jodie’s tone seemed concerned as well as doubtful.
‘That would be a few country minutes,’ Matt explained. ‘I’d say it’s about thirty k’s. And that’s to the turn-off. It’d be another five minutes to the top of the hill in the dark.’
Jodie turned her face away but he could see her jaw working on that piece of information. She looked back at him. ‘The loan car would be great, thanks.’
Guess the weekend wasn’t starting too well at all.
They travelled in silence after that. Beside him, Jodie sat like a block of ice, arms still folded across her chest, shoulders hitched. It wasn’t cold in the car now. In fact, Matt was starting to sweat in the heat. Her face was turned away but her reflection in the passenger window showed dark eyes as big as dinner plates and she was worrying at a patch on her lower lip with her teeth. Matt took another look in the mirror at Corrine. She was staring out at the night, lips pursed. Annoyed, impatient, not happ
y.
He glanced at Jodie again. Annoyed and impatient, yes – but there was something else. He watched her reflection on the windscreen a moment. It was some kind of anxiety. Fear was the word that came to mind. He knew what that looked like. He’d seen it make people whimper, scream, ramble incoherently, laugh even. And he’d seen cold-to-the-core fear, too. He turned his eyes to the strip of road lit by his headlights and tried not to think about the scared faces in his head.
He didn’t know why Jodie was frightened – or even if that’s what she really was. Just told himself he wasn’t responsible.
Mist crept across the road in places, clung to the scrub in others. Matt knew every bend out here – it hadn’t changed since the thousand trips he’d taken with his dad in the truck as a kid – but he kept his eyes focused on the distance, wary of kangaroos and his own dark thoughts. When the light from the service station loomed in the distance, he broke the silence.
‘The loan car needs cleaning up so I’ll drop you off at the pub with your friends,’ he told them. ‘I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.’
Jodie swung around. ‘I don’t mind waiting.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Corrine said. ‘I’m not waiting another second. The pub sounds great.’
Jodie shook her head. ‘No, really. You’ve already done more than enough for us tonight. I’ll wait and pick up the others from the pub. Then you don’t have to go out again.’
It was a nice offer. She might make interesting company – and he hadn’t had that in a while. He eyed her across the car, saw the straight line of her mouth. Who are you kidding, Matt? She didn’t want to spend time with him. She wanted the loan car asap.
‘It’ll take half an hour or so and I’m going to the pub anyway. The old man’s playing in the darts final.’ As he spoke, he drove right on past the service station and headed for the pub another two blocks down the main street. He pulled up out front, got out and opened the back door to help Corrine. By the time he had her on her feet, Jodie had come around the car and was standing beside them, staring at the pub, making no move to go in.
‘Busy night in there,’ Jodie said.
Matt looked at the pub. It was the typical country hotel, wrapped around a corner, a couple of large windows facing each street, tiled facade, balcony above. From the car they could see right into the main bar. ‘The darts comp is a big deal.’ He looked at Corrine. ‘Do you need a hand?’
She draped an arm around Jodie’s neck. ‘We should be fine. Even better after a stiff drink.’ She pushed herself off the side of the car and looked back at Jodie with a frown. ‘What are you waiting for?’
5
Jodie pressed against Matt’s car, watched the crowded bar through the street window and thought, who the hell made it scare-the-shit-out-of-Jodie night?
Even without the crash and being stranded on a dark road, the bar would ramp up her stress levels. She didn’t like crowds. Didn’t do places where she could get hemmed in by strangers. Couldn’t make it through one without looking for that face. Long hair, stud earring, chipped front tooth.
‘Well, come on,’ Corrine said, impatiently pulling Jodie forward with the arm she’d draped over her shoulder.
Twenty minutes in Matt’s car had given Jodie time to tamp down the fear that had overwhelmed her by the side of the road. Now she felt it unfurling its wings again. But there was no getting out of it. Corrine couldn’t get there without her help. And there was nowhere else to go. Matt had said half an hour. So, Jodie, have a stiff drink or three and get over yourself. She pushed off Matt’s car, wrapped an arm firmly around Corrine’s waist and said, ‘Let’s do it.’
The smell of beer hit them as they stepped over the threshold. Good-humoured crowd sounds led them down a short corridor to a glass door. She saw Louise’s mass of crazy, shoulder-length corkscrew curls at the bar, bobbing about as she talked to the barman. Behind her, a group of drinkers raised their arms as one and cheered. Jodie pushed open the door and as Corrine hobbled through ahead of her Jodie saw Lou turn and the ‘Oh my God’ on her lips.
‘Oh my God,’ Louise said again, standing on her toes to reach up and wrap them in a hug. ‘Are you okay? You must be freezing. You’re wet, too. Thank God you’re here.’ She took Corrine’s other arm, talked as she walked them past milling drinkers to the opposite side of the room. ‘Your car’s fine. It’s locked up at the garage. Hannah sorted out the key for the B & B, got directions off the guy in the shop. Bought milk, too. Look, Hannah, they’re here.’
Hannah stood up from a tight group of four chairs around a low table and led Corrine to a seat. Jodie was glad to hand Corrine over, glad Hannah’s attention was focused on Corrine’s sprained ankle. She needed a moment to pull herself together before she could do the fun-girls-away thing. She peeled off her damp coat, hung it over the back of a chair and took a deep breath.
‘Lou, pass my jacket,’ Hannah said. She’d helped Corrine into another seat and was supporting her injured ankle above the low table. One-handed, she took the jacket from Louise, bunched it into a cushion and tucked it under Corrine’s leg. ‘Can you move your toes?’ she asked her.
Jodie watched as Hannah rolled up Corrine’s trouser leg, unzipped the boot, folded back the stiff leather. There was no fuss in the way she did it. She looked like she’d done it a hundred times. She probably had. She’d been a nurse since she left school, had only taken three breaks from the job, one for each child. ‘You’ve got some swelling starting. And a good bruise,’ Hannah said. Without looking up from the ankle, she raised her voice, waved a hand about in the general direction of the chairs. ‘Louise. Anti-inflammatories in my handbag. Side pocket.’
Lou lifted her eyes briefly to Jodie’s. A ‘don’t say anything or I’ll laugh inappropriately’ look. Hannah, bless her, meant well and they had all benefited from her ministrations at one time or another but the occasions tended to take on the tone of an intensive care unit. Jodie figured it was exactly what any of them would want if their life was in Hannah’s hands but when it was all for a cut finger or a bad headache, it just felt like overkill. And after listening to Corrine carry on about the stupidity of walking about in the dark, seeing Hannah treating the sprained ankle as a major trauma was like salt in the wound.
Thank God for Lou’s sense of humour. She’d dragged Hannah’s big, brown leather satchel onto her lap, unlatched a side pocket the size of a briefcase and was looking back at Jodie with a mischievous grin. She pulled out scissors, a roll of tape, rubber gloves, an eyebath, gauze bandages, a syringe, lining them up on the low table like evidence. ‘You’ve got half a hospital in here, Hannah.’
‘It’s just the basics.’
Lou pulled out a disposable scalpel. ‘For open-heart surgery maybe. Hey, you got any of those electric paddles for jump-starting the heart? I’ve always wanted to say, “Clear!” Maybe Corrine can go into cardiac arrest for us.’
‘Louise, I’m in pain here,’ Corrine said.
‘Can we focus on the anti-inflammatories, do you think?’ Hannah said.
Lou looked at Jodie, pulled her mouth down, an ‘oops, too far’, and Jodie felt the tension in her own mouth soften. Lou found a packet, slapped it onto Hannah’s upturned palm like a nurse on a TV hospital drama, said, ‘Anti-inflammatories, Doctor.’
Hannah cracked a smile then. So did Louise. So did Jodie, at last.
Corrine said, ‘I need some water.’
Hannah found a bottle of water in her satchel and as she passed it to Corrine looked at Jodie as though she was seeing her for the first time. ‘I think Jodie could do with something a little stronger. Lou, you want to get those drinks now?’
‘Excellent idea.’ Lou took her handbag and headed into the crowd.
Jodie saw the intent as Hannah moved towards her – she was the next patient in line. But she wasn’t looking for TLC, she just needed some time and space. And a stiff drink. She made herself smile, tried to look what she didn’t feel – calm, relaxed, up for a good ole ti
me. It mustn’t have worked because Hannah stepped around the low table, put the back of her hand against Jodie’s cheek.
‘You’re freezing.’ Hannah dropped the hand to Jodie’s shoulder, gave it a brisk rub. ‘You’re shaking, you’re so cold. Sit down.’
‘No, I’m okay.’ Jodie was still standing behind her seat, not ready yet to sink into a comfy chair. The darts competition was winding up for another round and the crowd and its sudden, rowdy cheers made her feel the need to be ready to move.
‘Come on, you should try and warm up.’ Hannah took her by the arm and pulled.
The unexpected force made Jodie resist. She snatched her arm away then felt petty for it, moved around the chair, did what she was told anyway and sat.
With the same efficiency she’d used on Corrine, Hannah began a vigorous massage of Jodie’s upper arms. The closeness was claustrophobic, the pressure like bindings. She pushed Hannah’s hands away. ‘No, I’m okay.’
Hannah moved to the low table and sat knee-to-knee with her, took both her hands and rubbed them between her own.
‘No, Hannah. I’m okay.’ Jodie tried to pull away. Hannah held on with her nurse’s grip.
‘Hannah!’ Christ, if Hannah had any idea what had turned her blood to ice, she wouldn’t be confining her hands like that. But she didn’t know any of it, Jodie reminded herself. Give her a break. Take a breath. ‘Hannah,’ she managed more evenly. ‘It’s okay. I’m fine.’
Hannah let go with a pointed sigh, used both hands to tuck her hair behind her ears before taking the woollen scarf from around her own neck. ‘Put this on then. You might not feel cold but believe me, you are.’ She held it out, insistence on her pursed lips.
Stubbornness burned in the back of Jodie’s throat. Hannah was a force of nature, the kind of friend every working mother needed as proof a woman could divide herself a hundred ways and survive. She had an unflagging conviction in whatever she did, totally there for family and friends and patients. But the conviction made Jodie want to beat her about the head sometimes. Hannah never backed down easily and Jodie hated to be pushed.