Short and Sweet

by Anna Jacobs

  That evening Sara went to sit on her jetty, tired after unpacking her boxes. Below her dangling feet the clear water lapped against the piles. She stared down at it, mesmerized by the fractured patterns of light and the little fishes darting around in groups.

  A pelican flew past. A cormorant sat on the next jetty, long neck hunched into its body.

  She sighed blissfully. She was going to enjoy living here.

  It was the dolphins who brought her and her young neighbour together. The first morning Sara saw them, she rushed outside, entranced. They were swimming in the canal right next to her block, several adults and two babies. The babies were playing together in the middle of the canal, rolling around in the water like puppies.

  Joy filled her as the adults moved past, their bodies leaving smooth circles in the surface of the water when they dived. One came up with a fish in its mouth. Another splashed her as it twisted in the water, and she could swear it’d been looking up at her.

  ‘They often come past at this time. I like to watch them.’

  Sara turned and smiled as she saw the child sitting on the next jetty. ‘I do, too.’

  Not until the last grey dolphin had vanished from sight did she turn and limp into the house.

  ‘Have you hurt your leg?’ the child called.

  ‘Yes. I was in a car accident in England.’

  ‘Kerry! Come back inside this minute.’

  ‘Daddy doesn’t like me to pester the neighbours,’ the child whispered, hurrying off.

  The next morning Sara watched the dolphins on her own. When she turned to stare at the house next door, she saw a face at the upstairs window and a hand waved briefly, so she put up one hand to fiddle with her hair, afraid if she waved back openly the child would get into trouble.

  A few evenings later there was a frantic knocking on Sara’s front door.

  When she opened it, Kerry was there, tears streaming down her face. ‘Come quickly! My dad’s fallen downstairs and hurt his leg.’

  Sara found her neighbour lying at the foot of the stairs unconscious, blood trickling from a cut on his lip, a bruise already staining his forehead. One leg was twisted at an unnatural angle.

  ‘We need to call the ambulance. And don’t touch that leg. Where’s the phone?’

  ‘In the kitchen.’

  ‘Stay with him. If he wakes up, tell him I’m calling for help.’

  But when she went back into the hall, the man hadn’t stirred.

  ‘He’s not dead is he?’ the girl sobbed.

  Sara put an arm round her. ‘No, he’s not, just knocked out. I think his leg might be broken, though. The ambulance will be here soon to take him to hospital.’

  Kerry clung to her, sobbing.

  ‘Could I call anyone to help you, your mother perhaps?’

  ‘Mummy’s gone to live in America.’

  ‘Any other relatives or close friends?’

  ‘No, just me and Daddy.’

  There was a flashing blue light outside and Sara ran to open the door.

  After one of the paramedics had examined John, who was now half-conscious, he looked at Sara. ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to take your husband to hospital.’

  She limped across to join them.

  ‘Are you hurt, too?’ the ambulance officer asked.

  ‘No. It’s an old injury.’ Before she could correct them about her relationship to John, one had hurried out to get the gurney, and then they were both occupied in lifting him on to it and wheeling him out.

  As she closed the rear doors of the ambulance, the paramedic called to Sara, ‘See you at the hospital. Go to the Emergency Department.’

  Kerry tugged at Sara’s hand. ‘Will you take me?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Let’s make sure this house is locked up and you have some keys.’

  Once that was done, Kerry went to the door, her eyes beseeching Sara to hurry.

  ‘I’ll just fetch my bag and car keys, and lock my place up.’

  She stood for a moment next to her car, apprehension churning through her. She hadn’t driven at night since the accident. But Kerry was looking at her so trustingly, she swallowed hard, summoned up her courage and got in.

  All the way to the hospital, the little girl sat hunched in a tight ball. ‘He won’t die, will he?’ she asked once as they stopped at some traffic lights.

  ‘No, of course he won’t. It’s only a broken leg and concussion.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Pretty sure.’

  ‘Can’t you go any faster?’

  ‘No.’ Sara swallowed. ‘It’s not safe to drive fast at night.’

  Her husband had been speeding when the accident happened. Killed instantly, they’d told her afterwards, as if that would be a comfort. But she wished he’d lingered for a while, wished she’d had time to say goodbye to him.

  When they arrived at the hospital, reaction set in and after she’d parked, she buried her head in her shaking hands.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  She forced herself to smile at the child. ‘I’m fine. It’s just a long time since I’ve driven at night. I was . . . a bit nervous.’

  In casualty they told her that Mr Barraby needed an operation for his broken leg. ‘When did he last eat?’

  Sara turned to Kerry. ‘You were the only one with him.’

  ‘Dad didn’t have any tea,’ she said, wrinkling her brow. ‘But he had a sandwich at lunchtime and a cup of tea about two o’clock.’

  ‘Are you sure about that? Maybe he had a bar of chocolate or a biscuit?’

  Kerry shook her head. ‘No. He doesn’t like chocolate. And we forgot to buy some biscuits last week. He’s been working at his computer all day. It was a rush job.’

  That probably meant that Kerry hadn’t had any tea, either, so Sara bought them something to eat from the hospital café. After that they went back to the waiting area.

  It seemed a long time until a nurse came to tell them the operation had been successful. ‘But he won’t be properly awake for hours yet,’ she added. ‘You’d be better taking your daughter home, Mrs Barraby.’

  Sara tried to explain that she was only the neighbour but the nurse had hurried off again. She looked down at the anxious child. ‘I suppose I’d better take you home with me. Or perhaps you’d rather I found a social worker and—’

  Kerry looked terrified. ‘Please don’t do that! If you let me stay with you, I’ll be really good, I promise.’

  Not until they got into the car did she add, ‘Daddy and me don’t like social workers. When my mummy married again she went to America and she wanted to take me with her. Only I wouldn’t go. The social workers said I could try living with Daddy but they’re still watching us.’

  Sara nodded. That explained John Barraby’s wariness. ‘Well then, you can definitely come home with me. I’ll give the hospital my phone number.’

  As she was tucking Kerry up in bed, the little girl put her arms round Sara’s neck and gave her a hug. ‘Thank you for letting me stay. Can we watch the dolphins together in the morning? They always make me feel better.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I like watching them too.’

  It was a long time before Sara got to sleep. She wasn’t at all sure her neighbour would approve of her looking after his daughter, but there was no one else and there were still two or three weeks to go before school started again after the summer holidays.

  She smiled as it occurred to her that the hospital staff still thought she was his wife. She’d correct that the next day, or he would. In fact, he’d probably have sorted it all out. But if he was wary of getting tangled up with social workers, who knew what he’d have said. She’d better be careful till they compared stories.

  In the morning Sara and Kerry got up early and stood on the jetty together. The water was choppy, but not from boats passing. Several sleek grey shapes were curving in and out of the water and the two baby dolphins were back playing together. Water slapped gently against the two jetties and
seagulls circled, hoping to snatch something from the dolphins. Their cries were so much harsher than the ones in Europe.

  ‘Aren’t the dolphins lovely?’ the child asked, taking her hand and smiling.

  They watched the dolphins herd the fish to the canal wall. Silver shapes twisted and leaped out of the water, trying to avoid being caught, while a pelican hovered nearby, ready to snatch any stunned fish that came close enough.

  Sara rang the hospital at eight o’clock and the nurse said, ‘Ah, yes. Mr Barraby is awake and asking for you to bring in his daughter. Shall I transfer you?’

  She didn’t want to risk being overheard. ‘No. Just tell him Kerry’s fine and we’ll both be there in an hour or so.’

  He was in a private room and she hesitated by the door as Kerry ran across to hug him. He still looked pale and when he thanked Sara for looking after his daughter, it was obviously an effort.

  She remembered from her own accident how the anaesthetic lingered and how dopey she’d felt.

  A nurse came up to them. ‘Ah, your wife is here.’ He didn’t bother to explain that she wasn’t his wife and when Sara looked at him in puzzlement, he put one finger to his lips and looked at her pleadingly.

  Not till the nurse had left them did he say, ‘I wonder if I can ask you to look after Kerry for a day or two, Ms King, just until I can hire someone to housekeep for us while I’m incapacitated?’

  ‘Of course.’

  As he hesitated, his daughter said, ‘I’ve told Sara about Mum and the social workers.’

  ‘Ah.’ He looked at her anxiously.

  ‘I quite understand your position and it doesn’t make any difference to me. I’d love to have her. She’s been no trouble and I’m enjoying having company.’ Sara saw him relax visibly.

  ‘Thank you, Ms King. Um – you don’t go out to work?’

  ‘Do call me Sara. Like you, I work from home. I’m an editor.’

  She didn’t take offence at him asking a few more questions. It was only natural he’d be worried about his daughter living with a stranger.

  After a few minutes, however, she could see him getting drowsy, so she took Kerry away, promising to return that evening.

  Sara quickly realized that Kerry was older than her years; used to being with adults; quiet in her play. They visited the hospital for the next two days and when John was ready to come home, they made him up a bed in her living room for the first few days.

  ‘I can get up the stairs at my place if I take my time,’ he protested. ‘You’ve done enough, looking after Kerry.’

  ‘I’ve enjoyed her company. I’ve been on my own for a while now.’

  But as soon as he could, he moved back, hiring a housekeeper to come in every morning.

  She missed them when they moved back into their own home, but the housekeeper didn’t do shopping and, once again, he was wary of asking help from any government service.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ she said in the end. ‘I’ll do the shopping, with Kerry’s help. How hard is that? I have to go shopping for myself, you know.’

  ‘Oh. Well. Thank you very much.’ His stiffness vanished and he gave her a genuine smile. ‘I’m so grateful. I don’t know what I’d have done without your help.’

  ‘That’s all right. People helped me a lot after the accident. It’s good to pay something back to the universe.’

  She enjoyed the shopping expeditions, which were punctuated by Kerry’s instructions.

  No, Daddy hates that cereal!

  Oh, but we always have this sort.

  He never eats bananas. They’re too squishy.

  Because John was still on crutches, Sara had to drive them to the shops to buy the school uniform and other equipment for Kerry. And since the child had clearly grown a lot recently, they had to buy some casual clothes too.

  She found herself advising the little girl about clothes and hair, smiling at John about Kerry’s strong views on what was cool and what wasn’t.

  They felt almost like a family. She’d once hoped for a family. She liked children. But it hadn’t happened.

  He felt more like a friend now, had relaxed enough to share a drink on the patio, or bring her a fish he’d caught.

  She couldn’t help wishing . . . wishing for more. But she didn’t dare wish for too much because he was still holding back a little, still acting only as a friend and neighbour.

  Pity.

  Then one day there was a knock on the door and she found John there, leaning on his crutches. She made him a cup of coffee and carried it out for him as they went to sit by the water.

  ‘I wonder if you’d help me and Kerry again.’ He fiddled with his cup before adding, ‘I have no right to ask, but . . . I’ve been notified that they’re sending someone to check up on me. My wife’s lawyer is making another fuss about who looks after Kerry.’

  ‘Were Kerry and her mother close?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Jen wasn’t a very hands-on sort of parent at all. But she does like to win, and she regards not getting custody as losing.’

  When he didn’t continue, Sara prompted, ‘So . . . how can I help?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘Could you pretend to be engaged to me? That’d make it look so much better – and you do get on well with Kerry. It shows when you’re together.’

  She was so surprised for a moment that she could only stare at him, then she smiled. ‘I wasn’t even sure you liked me.’

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then stared at her. ‘I like you too much. I didn’t think I ought to get mixed up with anyone when I have so many hassles in my life. So I held back. But fate keeps bringing the three of us together.’

  ‘It’s nice to have good neighbours,’ she said carefully.

  ‘We’re more than that, I hope. I’d really like to get to know you better.’

  ‘I’m happy to pretend to be engaged, if that will help, John. I’m really fond of Kerry. And I’d like to get to know you better too.’

  His voice grew gentler. ‘Why don’t we give it a try, then?’

  She nodded. She knew what she hoped for and she rather thought he felt the same way, but there was no need to hurry. He was still wary and she wasn’t going to push him into something he wasn’t sure about. Let him find his own way.

  Anyway, living next door made it simple to take things easy as they got to know one another better.

  Just then a dolphin swam past, swishing its tail and looking as if it was smiling at them in approval. She smiled back.

  Suddenly, she felt sure it would all work out as she wished.

  The Pelican Affair

  Anna’s Notes

  This is based on another personal experience. In my little seaside town, pelicans really do mug tourists. They’re big birds.

  When we first moved here, they used to try to get inside the houses. They knew where the catches were for the doors, but those huge beaks are no use for opening them. Thank goodness.

  We have stood outside watching the sunset, though, and been joined by a pelican, who stood with the circle of people, quite at ease. He (or she) was as tall as my shoulder.

  The West Australian sun shone down brightly and seemed to be winking at her, telling her to stick to her decision. Sarah Lawson took a deep breath and tried to recapture the tone that used to make her daughters do as they were told.

  ‘You won’t change my mind, Jan. I’m going to hire a holiday flat for a week and give you and your family a bit of a break.’ She just had to get away from her kind but bossy daughter for a while, if they were to stay friends.

  ‘But Mum, there’s no need. We love having you here. I’ve been wanting you to visit us in Australia ever since Dad died.’

  ‘Two months is far too long for any guest. You and Tony could drive me down to Mandurah, though. Or no – perhaps I should hire a car.’

  ‘No need for that. It’s a small seaside town. You can walk everywhere you need to if you get a place near the Foreshore. We’ll drive you do
wn and see you safe.’

  What did they think was going to happen to her in a rented holiday flat, for heaven’s sake? She’d been living on her own in England ever since Bill died, and managing very well, if she said so herself.

  But Jan, dear fussy Jan, was treating her like a third child, one who needed watching and guiding every moment. The trouble was, Australia was a long way to come from England for only a short stay. But a week was long enough for any guest to stay, and she should have known better, should have planned a visit to Sydney for a week or two in the middle, perhaps.

  The drive to the small holiday town passed in a tense silence. But the flat was lovely, with a balcony overlooking the water.

  When Jan had stopped fussing and left, Sarah sat in the living area of the flat, relishing the silence. She loved her grandsons, but they were a noisy pair.

  Now to make herself more comfortable and get into a holiday mood. She’d seen a liquor store at the end of the road and decided to buy herself some wine.

  She chuckled as she left the flat, feeling like a rebellious teenager. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into someone and ricocheted back against the wall. ‘Oh, sorry. My fault. I was miles away.’

  The man smiled at her. ‘I was too. You look happy. I hope you enjoy your holiday.’

  ‘I intend to make the most of every blessed minute.’ She continued down the stairs, humming an old Abba song that had been running through her head for two days, ever since she’d heard it on the wireless. She didn’t care if she was old-fashioned, she’d always loved that song.

  After a short walk, she found the liquor store, bought two bottles of Chardonnay and a bar of chocolate, and carried them home in triumph.

  When she opened the fridge to chill the wine, she saw the casserole Jan had insisted on making for her. ‘It’ll last two days, Mum, save you money.’

  It wasn’t going to last even one day. Jan’s cooking hadn’t improved over the years and because the children were small, she made everything very bland. Not feeling even slightly guilty, Sarah scraped it into the rubbish bin.

  She went out again for a walk along the foreshore, looking for somewhere to eat. This was such a lovely little town, built along the sides of an estuary.