‘Good luck.’
Noni jumped at the voice as he came around the front of the house. Jacinta hadn’t seen Iain appear either. He did that. Crept up on you. So annoying.
‘Mr McCloud. I didn’t see you there.’
‘Iain, please. I feel like my father if you call me Mr McCloud.’ He flashed one of those women-slaying smiles Jacinta had seen him use on waitresses and she rolled her eyes. The guy was up himself.
Noni glared at him instead of fainting and that was funny. Jacinta smiled. Sucked in, Iain.
Noni said, ‘I wish I had time to swoon, Iain,’ and emphasised his name deliberately, ‘but I really can’t spare it.’ She gave him her own version of a brilliant smile. ‘Ciao.’
Jacinta saw him wince and then she felt mean. Which only made her crabbier, so she crossed her arms and watched the scene play out. At least she wasn’t under her father’s microscope like she’d been the first day in the flat. Every time she’d turned around he’d been watching her. Then all those tests – though the ultrasound had been cool. She’d carried a little snap of her alien baby in her wallet since then so that had been a bonus.
She heard her father’s drawn-in breath as the table-top truck reversed out past his car and missed the rear bumper of his Lexus by a couple of centimetres. Then Win came out and stood beside him.
Jacinta heard her say, ‘She usually doesn’t hit anything. But she comes awfully close.’
Iain turned his head and looked at her. Win dried her hands on her apron and smiled. ‘I think she enjoys the challenge of taking it to the edge.’
Iain laughed and to Jacinta it sounded like it came from a place that creaked and groaned with disuse. Come to think of it, this was the first time she’d heard him laugh. He stopped, as if surprised at himself. Then he looked across and saw Jacinta. ‘Morning, Jaz.’
She nodded her head at him. She wasn’t sure if she liked the nickname, but she didn’t hate it.
He stared at her for a moment and then turned back to Win. ‘I’ve arranged an out-of-hours visit for Jacinta with Dr Soams this morning. She’ll probably have to have more blood tests after that.’
Win gave him one of her pats on the shoulder. ‘I may not be here when you come back, then. I spend Saturdays away with friends. They pick me up so Noni can have the car, and she runs the house when I have guests.’
Jacinta listened with dismay as Win went on. ‘I usually come back home on Sunday afternoon, after lunch. We have Sunday night together then Noni goes to work Monday and I get Harley off to school now that he’s started. It suits us both.’
Win went back into the house after that and Jacinta heard her father climbing the steps. She turned her head away, but she could hear the creak of the boards as he came closer. So, tonight there’d be just Noni and her father. And the kid. She preferred when Win was here.
‘Does that all sound okay with you, Jaz?’
‘Fine.’ She turned her head back and spoke to the newspaper under his arm. The thought of Win not being there made her grip the side of the chair. Just because Win was the easiest person to talk to didn’t mean she could be relied on to be here, she brutally reminded herself.
Jacinta was just a strange pregnant girl paying to stay here with her even stranger father. Why would Win stay around?
Chapter Eight
Noni
Harley bounced up and down in the rear of the twin cab utility in his new white cricket gear. Noni glanced at him in the mirror and smiled. ‘Is your seatbelt tight enough?’
‘Yes. How much loooonger,’ he drew out the word agonisingly, ‘until we get there?’
‘Five minutes. You know that,’ Noni said indulgently. ‘You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?’ Which was why she hadn’t wanted the team to fold when the coach broke his leg. She just hoped nobody expected her to know much as the new coach.
Harley began to jiggle again. ‘Can’t wait. Can’t wait.’
Well, she hoped Harley had more of an athletic gene than she did. She’d never been much good at team sports, unlike Aunt Win, who’d been a mean tennis player in her younger days. Lucky she’d put Harley’s sunscreen on before she left, Noni thought, because she doubted she’d catch him once they pulled up. He was an adventurous little soul, so the idea of a new game, new mates, and a big green field delighted him.
‘There it is, Harley.’ She swung down the side street to the cricket fields on the edge of town and pulled up under the big fig tree that she hoped would keep the car cool for the ride home. She parked and undid her seat belt. In the back, Harley’s seat belt clicked open and he was out of the car in a heartbeat.
Noni gave herself three seconds to relax. Brown paddocks stretched away to the soft hills in the distance and white dots of sheep grazed on what looked like scant foliage and fodder, but they appeared healthy enough. A couple of brown horses nosed around an outcrop of rocks, one of the many such stone piles that studded the hills, and in the distance a meandering line of green trees indicated the serpentine route of the creek that would be the lifeblood of this particular farming enterprise. Aunt Win and Noni’s mother had grown up on a station like that out of town, but Noni’s dad had been a mechanic so they’d lived in town all her life. Still, she did love the open spaces. Maybe one day she and Harley could get some acres out of town. She knew Win dreamed of it but the guesthouse gave them another wage.
She opened her door and climbed out to turn her gaze to the other open space. A cricket field with a dozen white mini-maniacs swarming like bees across the grass and a small crowd of parents waiting. For her.
Determinedly, she lifted her chin, plastered a smile on her face and began to walk towards them. Most of the parents here were a lot older than she was – years ahead of her, with Harley’s team-mates being their second or third child – and because she’d only become a fully fledged midwife last year, she hadn’t been a midwife for them unless they’d had another baby recently. But she recognised their faces from the shops and businesses in town, or they were big brothers or sisters of her friends at school. There was the auctioneer from the sale yards … Now why couldn’t he have been the coach? His voice would carry further than Noni’s.
It was going to be a stinker of a day and with a sinking feeling she realised she’d left her hat on her bed at home.
Just after lunch Noni rubbed the pain between her eyes and hurriedly put her hand back on the steering wheel. She swung the ute into the carport, just missed Iain’s car, and jerked to a halt. Harley vibrated with energy and catapulted out of the car and into the house before she could ask him to carry anything in.
She sighed and rested her arms on the steering wheel to lay her head down for a few moments. The moments stretched into a minute.
‘Can I carry something for you?’
She opened her eyes and saw Iain’s face peering in at her. Her head throbbed. She stared at him and even that hurt.
When she didn’t answer he said, ‘How was Kanga cricket?’
Now she’d have to talk. ‘Not so good! I forgot my hat and had to umpire out in the sun for a couple of hours.’ Her voice cracked and seemed to be coming from a long way away. ‘I think I’ve got sunstroke.’
Iain frowned and reached across to feel her red forehead. ‘You twit. You’re burning up. Take yourself inside and lie down. I’ll fix the gear.’ He opened the door for her and helped her out of the car.
His hand felt cool against her arm and she leaned on him for a moment while her head swam. ‘You’re the guest. I’ll be fine.’ Her voice petered out and she swayed again.
He muttered something derogatory about the other parents and lifted her into his arms with ridiculous ease before she could protest.
That inside voice whispered to accept his help with grace. At least his arms were cool and safe, even though the ceiling swayed and dipped. She should complain, but instead she lay limp against his firm chest, battling a sudden upsurge of nausea.
In defence she squeezed her eyes closed.
The red light behind her eyelids glowed and the nausea increased in firm, solid steps up her throat like the riot police advancing. She prayed she could hold out until she made it to her room, desperately concentrating on small, shallow breaths, trying to keep the queasiness under crowd control.
If she dared to look she could see his occasional glance to her face, and ridiculously she found herself wishing for long, fluttering eyelashes rather than thick, stumpy ones. She felt like a log in his arms and wondered if he could carry her forever. By the time he’d made it to her bedroom at the top of the stairs his breathing had changed, and she guessed he couldn’t.
Despite everything, her mouth twitched. Not as fit as you thought you were, old boy. So much for being a knight in shining armour. That must have been why cavaliers saved damsels in distress on horseback.
But after checking he had the right room, this hero did lay her gently on the cover of her bed. Her head swam in a whoosh of vertigo and she moaned as the nausea rose. Horrible.
She heard a rattle of something being tipped out, and cracked open her eyes to see the big plastic dish she kept her hair clips and brushes in appear beside her on the bedside drawers. Through the slit of her eyes she could tell he watched her for a moment before heading for the door.
‘I’ll be back in a minute with some fluids.’
As soon as the door shut she bolted unsteadily for the en suite and let the riot police do their thing. Too unsteady to do more than rinse her mouth and splash water on her red face, she turned slowly and headed back to the bed. By the time her head hit the pillow she felt terrible, but at least the nausea had eased. She was far too sick to worry about being embarrassed.
A young female voice from the doorway said, ‘What happened to you?’
Noni forced her eyes open and squinted up at Jacinta. ‘Sunstroke,’ she gasped, before shutting her eyes quickly as the nausea rose again.
She could hear Jacinta moving around the room and the rattle of the blinds being drawn. The darkness soothed and the sound of the running tap in her bathroom penetrated, but now she couldn’t open her eyes. A cool, wet cloth landed none too gently on her brow and she jumped, but it still felt good.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it.’
‘S’okay,’ Noni whispered. ‘Feels great. I didn’t pick you for a nurse.’
‘Iain’s coming up with a drink. My mum used to get migraines. I’ll go and talk to Harley.’
‘Thanks, Jacinta.’ But the girl disappeared at the sound of her father’s footsteps.
Noni pulled the cloth from her face as he entered and gingerly opened her eyes as far as they would allow her to. Iain seemed to fill the doorway as he came into her room, and she felt like putting the facecloth back over her face. Even when she was horribly sick, he made her uncomfortably aware of him.
Noni grimaced and sighed consciously to relax. He’d only brought her a drink. She forced herself up into a sitting position and took the glass he offered.
‘Take your time. Little sips are often the answer. You should know that.’
Now he was talking to her like a three-year-old. ‘How? I’ve never had sunstroke.’
‘Well, what about Harley?’
As if. Too miserable to get angry, she said, ‘I wouldn’t let him get sunstroke. I make him wear a hat all the time.’
‘Typical.’
She swivelled slowly towards him and saw him raise those damn eyebrows again before he murmured, ‘Don’t do as I do, do as I say.’
She fell back onto the pillows as the effort of being upright took its toll. ‘Not true,’ she managed to mutter, before she closed her eyes. ‘If you’re going to harass me, go away.’
He gave a soft chuckle and she felt her stomach clench for a different reason. Go away, she repeated silently. She’d rather be sick.
‘You look better. One more sip and I’ll leave you in peace.’ He slid his arm under her shoulders and effortlessly flipped her pillow. She wished he hadn’t touched her. When he took his arm away she could smell his aftershave. It was a wonder it didn’t make her heave. Crazy.
Noni leaned back on the cool pillow he’d turned, trying to reestablish her personal space and avoid his eyes. ‘Thank you, Iain,’ she said, trying to raise her voice above a whisper.
‘You sound like a polite little schoolgirl. You must be ill.’ She saw him smile before giving her a wave as he strode out the door.
She peered at her watch, squinting to see the hands in the dim room. Twelve-thirty. She didn’t even want to think about lunch. They’d manage. She’d have a sleep and get up at five to make the …
Her eyelids closed before the thought could be completed.
Night had fallen when Noni woke. For a moment she couldn’t remember the day, and then did. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she sat up slowly to sip from the full glass beside her bed. Thankfully, the lemony taste loosened everything up. Even her brain. ‘Hell. The tea.’
She put down the glass and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Whoa. The room swung and she rocked back and forth perilously until it settled.
‘Bright,’ she muttered, and looked up at a sound at the door.
‘Very bright.’ Iain carried a tray and the smell of hot quiche floated across the room to her.
‘Have you got sonic ears or something?’
‘Something.’ He carried the tray across and set it down at the side of the bed. ‘How are you?’
‘Better than this afternoon.’ She looked at the tray. ‘Sorry. I’m supposed to make the tea.’
‘You can make the tea tomorrow night.’
‘Yes, Doctor,’ she joked, and to her surprise Iain jerked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I thought I heard Harley call.’
Noni sat up straight again. ‘Harley. I have to get him his tea and make sure he has a bath.’
‘Stay there!’ Iain looked at her as if she were a halfwit. ‘He knows you’re not feeling well. The boy is five years old. Jacinta can look after him. Do you do everything for him?’
‘Excuse me,’ she bristled. ‘I realise that with your vast experience of child-raising you know best.’
‘Low blow,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll see you later.’ He left her lying there, guilty and gutted. Being ill was no excuse.
‘I’m sorry, Iain,’ she called, but he’d gone. So now he was a victim. Well, he shouldn’t have implied she spoiled Harley. No one had ever said anything critical about the way she raised her son. They wouldn’t have wanted to because she may just be a tad touchy about that subject. That’s what happened when you grew up as a young mum. Old ladies tutted. Old men looked down their noses at you. Everyone thought they knew better than you on the subject of how to bring up a child. Except Aunt Win. She’d never interfered.
Noni glared at the ceiling. She didn’t want the meal he’d brought up, anyway. And she hated being in the wrong.
She lay there for a while and tried to sleep, the smell of the quiche drifting in tantalising tendrils that taunted her. Damn him. She sat up and caught a view of herself in the mirror of the dressing table. She looked like Jacinta. Frowning and glaring. It must be contagious. The silliness made her smile and realise how much of a goose she’d been. She’d get up and apologise as soon as she’d had a shower and eaten.
Thirty minutes later, she found Jacinta and Harley playing snakes and ladders in the library while Iain read his paper beside the screened open window. The warm night breeze stirred the curtains. They all looked up when Noni came into the room and, strangely, she felt like an outsider in her own home. Now, that was an unpleasant feeling.
‘You okay, Mum?’ Harley spoke from his seat on the carpet, and Noni quelled her disappointment that he didn’t get up and cuddle her. She really needed a hug.
‘Fine, thanks, darling.’ She looked at Jacinta and smiled. ‘Thanks for pulling the blinds and the cool facecloth, Jacinta. It made me feel better.’ She forced herself to meet Iain’s eyes. ‘Thank you for looking afte
r me, Iain.’
‘You’re welcome. Sit down before you fall down.’
She blinked at his tone, but he was looking at his daughter.
‘Jaz, would you get Noni another glass of the lemon barley water, please?’
‘I’ll get it.’ Harley jumped up as Jacinta stood.
‘You can come too,’ Jacinta said, and they both left the room.
Noni took a deep breath, but before she could say anything Iain forestalled her.
‘Don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have said what I did.’
Why didn’t she feel appeased? ‘Who said I planned to apologise?’ She raised her eyebrows at him but had to smile at the twinkle in his eyes. ‘You rat. That’s it. I’m going to apologise if it kills me. I’m very sorry for my comment, Iain. So there.’
He smiled. ‘Very graciously offered. Now, calm down. I won’t tease you. Did you enjoy your tea?’
She glared at him then burst out laughing. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied meekly, but the expression in her eyes warned him not to push her.
‘So, tell me why you’re the coach at junior cricket and nobody else could have relieved you from umpiring?’
Noni leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. ‘The usual coach broke his leg last week and is still in hospital. No other parent offered to take on his job so I said I would.’
‘Have you ever played cricket?’
‘No. I didn’t want to, but nobody else put their hand up for the job.’ She’d already said that. ‘The season’s just started and without a coach the team would have folded.’ She shrugged. ‘Harley’s excited about playing.’
‘So, Supermum takes on the world.’
She glared at him, ready to battle.
He held up his hands and laughed. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist it.’ He felt his forehead and rubbed it.
She leaned forward. Did he have a headache as well? Maybe there was a virus going around and it hadn’t been sunstroke. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. Just checking to see if you’d burned a hole through my head with that last look.’
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