The Sister's Gift

by Barbara Hannay

  Now that she’d settled into her story, however, Sonia seemed quite keen to explain more. ‘When I realised Pearl didn’t have to start the treatment immediately, I suggested she might like to take a break. A chance to get away with Troy and relax for a bit. She seemed to like that idea, so then we started talking about where she might go. I was a bit shocked to realise she’d hardly been anywhere.’

  ‘I know,’ said Billie. ‘She always claimed that the island was lovely enough for her and and why should she need to leave? But both Freya and I have done quite a bit of travel and I think she’d started to realise what she’d missed. The poor thing has worked so hard all her life.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Sonia. ‘Pearl regretted not seeing more of the world. That was when we came up with the grey nomad idea.

  ‘You and Mum cooked that up?’

  Sonia gave a sheepish smile. ‘We did, yes.’

  Billie hoped there were no more surprises. Her head was spinning.

  ‘But is Pearl’s condition worse?’ Sonia asked now.

  Billie nodded, although she had no plans to share information about treatments and transplants. A prudent daughter would leave now. She drained her water glass. The ice cubes had melted and she savoured the refreshing touch of mint on her tongue. ‘Goodness,’ she said as she glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. ‘I really must get going.’

  To her relief, Sonia accepted this without further questions. She rose and accompanied Billie to the front door. ‘Thanks so much for coming,’ she said. ‘I really appreciate it, Belinda.’

  ‘And I’ll be in touch with Nicole.’

  ‘Thanks. She’ll be so relieved.’

  As Billie left, she was remembering the puzzling comments Sonia had made soon after she’d started back at the restaurant. Travel is so good for broadening the mind and you always had so much potential . . . Although I’m sure your parents are very happy to have you home again . . .

  Huh! The first comment was based on the assumption that she was the daughter of a famous artist, while the second was fuelled by Sonia’s knowledge of Pearl’s illness.

  Billie couldn’t help wondering if Sonia and half the island also knew she was pregnant. Then again, after everything else that had happened recently, this news was rather small beer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ‘No!’ Seb was adamant and, quite possibly, furious. ‘No way, Freya. You can’t be serious.’

  It was late at night. A new chef was now on duty at Island Thyme, a very capable young woman who’d returned to Queensland after five years of cheffing in ski lodges in Europe, and to celebrate their newfound freedom, Seb had invited Freya to his place for dinner.

  They’d dined on his deck and the meal had been delicious, accompanied by candlelight and wine, a wafting breeze and the soft whisper of the nearby sea. Such a magical night, relaxing and amusing, and made especially exciting by the teasing, pulsing promise of the lovemaking that Freya had known would follow.

  Now, some time later, they were basking in the happy afterglow. Freya was cradled against Seb’s shoulder and both of them were a little breathless and more than a little smug.

  ‘My God,’ Seb said. ‘If this is growing older, let’s have more of it.’

  And Freya, chuckling happily as she snuggled close, decided that satisfaction was an overused but totally underrated word.

  Almost straight away, though, she went and spoiled the happy moment by sharing her important news with Seb. No doubt this was unwise timing, but was there ever a good time to share difficult tidings? She’d already held off mentioning it for days, and she’d said nothing earlier in the evening so as not to upset their lovely mood.

  In the darkness, however, and feeling so wonderfully close to Seb, the details that had been pounding away inside her had been ready to explode.

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ he cried now.

  ‘I would hardly be joking, Seb.’

  ‘But it’s crazy. It’s unbelievable. History repeating itself.’

  ‘I know, but I’ve had the tests. I’m a good match for Pearl.’

  He gave a vehement shake of his head. ‘Pearl would never expect you to give up a kidney. Not after everything you’ve already done for her.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Freya said. ‘Pearl doesn’t expect it and she has said as much. Several times. But Troy’s not a match for her. He’s the wrong blood type. And Billie’s pregnant. And – and I owe her.’

  ‘For that drowning incident when you were kids?’

  ‘Of course.’

  With an angry grimace, Seb lifted his gaze to the ceiling. ‘So help me, you raced off and discovered that you’d be a perfect match.’

  ‘I did. Yes.’ And already, a tentative date for the transplant surgery had been set.

  ‘Freya.’ The despair in his voice cut straight through her.

  She knew the timing was impossibly cruel, just when they’d found each other again, a savage twist of fate, a horrible rehash of their youth. But this time Freya was quite determined that she wouldn’t be reckless. Or inconsiderate. While she was trying very hard to be practical and mature, she also hoped to be sensitive.

  Seb, however, had lurched upright and was sitting a metre from her, his strong, brown back stiff with tension.

  Freya tried to explain. ‘Being a kidney donor doesn’t shorten a person’s life expectancy, or mean they’re more likely to have kidney issues in the future. I’ve talked to the doctors at length. There’s no reason why I can’t live a perfectly normal life with one kidney.’

  But Seb didn’t reply, and her stomach tightened with fear. Was she about to lose him again? It was inconceivable, surely? The mere thought brought pain, as if her heart, rather than her kidney, had been scooped clear out of her chest.

  ‘Seb, it would only involve four to six days in hospital and then being careful with heavy lifting or contact sports for six weeks. And I don’t play contact sports, so it’s hardly a problem. It’s nothing like the commitment of a nine-month pregnancy and giving birth.’

  She saw his glare, the tightening of his jaw and the fear of losing him speared through her. ‘And this time it could save Pearl’s life,’ she added for good measure.

  He turned to her then, his expression bleak, unforgiving. ‘Why does it have to be you? Why are you so hellbent on sacrificing yourself yet again?’

  Freya winced as his barb found its mark. She’d never thought of herself as any kind of martyr, but surely it was obvious that she would want to help Pearl.

  Of course, Seb couldn’t be expected to comprehend how important her conversation with Pearl had been. He’d never had siblings. He probably wouldn’t understand the deep and complicated bond. How, despite their differences, she’d always longed to be closer to her sister, or how the healing warmth of Pearl’s surprising apology would stay with her forever.

  ‘I just can’t see any other viable option,’ she said.

  ‘But aren’t there plenty of other kidney donors out there?’

  ‘They’re not thick on the ground. And hanging about for someone else would mean Pearl would go on a waiting list. I could save her that time and stress. She could have the transplant quite soon and be well and truly recovered by the time Billie’s baby arrives.’

  ‘That soon?’

  ‘Yes, the recovery usually takes just a couple of months.’

  The muscles in Seb’s throat rippled as he swallowed. He gave a heavy sigh, ran agitated fingers through his shaggy hair. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m very sorry to hear about Pearl’s illness. Truly I am. But, Freya, you thought your womb was fine. You thought you’d be having children of your own, and look what happened.’

  Yes, Freya had been trying hard not to think about that.

  Shifting closer to her now, Seb reached out, gripping her shoulders so she was face to face with him, and the message in his eyes spoke of such unbearable tenderness that her heart rocked sharply in her chest.

  ‘I can’t lose
you again,’ he said.

  ‘You wouldn’t lose me. Honestly, Seb. There’s hardly any risk for me.’

  With gentle fingers, he traced a trail down her back, stopping at the spot where the vital organ in question lay.

  ‘Scars heal,’ she said, keeping her tone light. ‘And anyway, they make the incision at the front.’

  ‘Oh, Freya.’ He bound her close to him now and she let her eyes drift closed, loving the warmth of him, the scent of his skin, drinking in the knowledge that these arms that held her so close were Seb’s, miraculously returned to her.

  ‘I know it’s hard,’ she said softly. ‘I know it doesn’t seem fair, but what else can I do?’

  He sighed. ‘We’ll give this more thought. That’s what we’ll do. I won’t let you be rash.’

  We’ll give this more thought. Freya had investigated this problem from every angle, so she had no idea how any more thought was going to help, but it was a concept she could live with for this evening, at least. Lifting her head, she kissed his jaw, nibble-kissing the rough line of stubble.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ she murmured. ‘But let’s do that thinking in the morning.’

  ‘Minx.’ He was smiling now as he kissed her chin, her nose, her lips, as they fell back onto the bed in a happy tangle of limbs.

  This time their lovemaking was infused with an extra layer of emotion, fear as fierce as love.

  ‘Freya. Good heavens, I don’t know what to say.’

  When Freya rang Daisy with her news on the following afternoon, her friend sounded almost as distressed as Seb had. Freya, sitting on the beach at Alma Bay, watching seagulls take off, snowy white against the blue, tried to make light of her situation. ‘Oh, you know me, Daisy. Always bouncing from one drama to the next.’

  ‘But I thought life was calming down for you.’

  ‘It is. More or less. This is a minor hiccup. No real drama for me, to be honest. Poor Pearl’s the one with the worry.’

  ‘Well, yes, that’s true. How is she?’

  ‘She’s looking better, actually. The travel was tiring her out, so it’s for the best that she’s home again and getting her health seen to straight away. She’s excited about Billie’s baby, of course. She’s already dived into making a patchwork quilt for the cot, would you believe? And she’s poring over all sorts of baby shop catalogues, marking up the best buys.’

  ‘Oh, bless her. I guess it’s a good distraction. Helps to keep her calm.’

  ‘Mmmm. I guess.’ Freya didn’t add that Billie was thinking of moving out, that she was feeling suffocated by her mother’s intense interest in her pregnancy.

  ‘And how’s Seb?’ Daisy asked. There had been previous girly phone calls where Freya had quizzed Daisy about her American ‘friend’ who’d come to stay with her and had remained for over a month. And in turn Freya had coughed up one or two details about her fledgling love life.

  ‘Seb?’ she said now. ‘Oh, he’s —’ Dead sexy was the description that first sprang to mind, but as tense as a bowstring would be more accurate. When they’d parted that morning, Seb had been no happier about her plans. He hadn’t tried to talk her out of the donation exactly, but he’d made his worry and disappointment clear.

  Freya knew he wasn’t so much anxious that something would go wrong with the procedure – the chances of that were incredibly slim – but rather worried that she might develop her own kidney problems down the track, even though she was in the pink of condition at the moment.

  ‘He’s not thrilled,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s understandable.’

  ‘But I don’t think he’ll try to stop me.’ At least, I hope he won’t. Seb had headed over to the mainland for the day, ostensibly to buy more art gear, but Freya suspected that he needed time and distance to think. And she was scared, dead scared, that those thoughts might take him away from her. Again.

  Was it possible that he didn’t know how to be in a relationship unless everything was perfectly smooth sailing? After all, he’d made a lifetime habit of never staying with one woman for too long.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  When Billie’s phone rang on Saturday morning, she was absorbed in studying the ads in a real-estate agent’s window, sussing out the flats available for rent. Her nesting instinct was in full swing, it seemed. Even though she hadn’t yet reached the final weeks of her pregnancy, the desire to have a little place of her own, a home just for her and her Pickle, was growing stronger every day. She didn’t have much money, but a one-bedroom flat would do.

  Luckily, her parents had accepted this suggestion without too much fuss.

  ‘As long as you don’t race off overseas again, so we never get to see our grandchild,’ her mum had pleaded.

  Billie assured Pearl that she would stay put in North Queensland for the foreseeable future. And now, as she took down the details of a little A-frame cottage that appealed, her phone started to ring, and when she retrieved it, the caller was Detective Dan.

  A glance at her reflection in the shop window showed that she was smiling broadly as she answered. The smile also registered in her voice. This was such a cool surprise. ‘Hello, Dan. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Just ringing to see how you are.’

  ‘Oh, that’s kind of you.’ The last time they’d spoken, Billie had been in a fluster over the adoption business. Afterwards, when she’d looked back on that phone call, she decided she’d been unforgivably intrusive. Teatime, for pity’s sake. She’d hesitated to ring Dan back once everything was sorted.

  Actually, she’d thought it was more than likely he’d put her little problem out of his mind while he got on with his far more important work of catching criminals. And yet here he was, thoughtfully enquiring.

  ‘Actually, I’m fine, too,’ Billie told him.

  ‘Dare I ask if you’ve spoken to your parents?’

  ‘Yes, I have and it’s all good. Although it’s an incredibly complicated story.’ Too complicated to try to explain quickly over the phone. ‘Pretty amazing, though. I should tell you sometime.’

  She suspected she was babbling and sounding way too enthusiastic, but she couldn’t help it. Dan was, on reflection, one of the nicest guys she’d ever met. It was hard to remember that his working life was all about investigating crime. It seemed so at odds with his clean-cut image as a family man.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ll be back on the island any time soon?’ As the words left Billie’s lips, she cringed. She’d sounded way too hopeful.

  ‘Funny you should ask,’ Dan said. ‘I’m actually on the island right now. Molly talked me into another ferry trip and I have the day off, so I thought why not. We’re about to buy fish and chips and eat them on the beach. I don’t suppose you’re free?’

  For a moment Billie thought he was just being polite, and then she heard Molly’s voice, squeaky and excited. ‘Yes, Billie, please come and have fish and chips with us.’

  Billie found that she was grinning. She could picture Molly leaning in to her dad’s phone, could see her determined little face with curly wings of hair on either side, her bright and eager smile. And she honestly couldn’t think of anything she’d like more than to have fish and chips with that pair. ‘Where are you?’ she asked.

  ‘Arcadia.’

  Which was only a few minutes away by car. And Billie still had a couple of hours before she needed to head to work. ‘Sounds like fun,’ she said. ‘Thanks for the invite. I’ll see you soon then.’

  ‘Great,’ Dan responded, and in the background Billie could hear a little girl giving a cheer.

  The fish and chips were salty and crisp, just perfect with a generous squeeze of lemon, along with cold ginger beer to wash them down. The trio enjoyed this splendid meal, eating straight from the paper at a picnic table in Geoffrey Bay. The setting was magic, with a soft wind whistling and whispering through the thin she-oak needles above them, while broken coral tinkled and chimed as gentle waves washed it ashore.

 
Billie, used to the island’s beauty, sometimes took it for granted. Today, however, she looked about her with the eyes of a visitor, taking in the sparkling turquoise water, the darker patches of reef, and the way the bay was perfectly framed by huge granite headlands covered in scrub and dotted with bright splashes of yellow from flowering kapok trees.

  And also, well within her sights, was Dan.

  Dan, dressed simply, in the manner of all beachgoers, in a striped T-shirt and board shorts, seemed more tanned and broader in the shoulders than she remembered. Or perhaps she hadn’t been paying enough attention in the past? She wondered if detectives were required to work out. Even the shape of his hands, as he broke a piece of fish for Molly, seemed extra manly today.

  While they ate, Molly told her, in no end of detail, about her trip with her father to the Townsville aquarium. How they had been given paper bangles to wear around their wrists and had walked through a glass tunnel that went right under the water.

  ‘And there were sharks and turtles and all sorts of fishes. And I could see the sharks’ tummies when they swam over us.’

  ‘And you saw seahorses?’ Billie asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ exclaimed Molly, eyes shining.

  ‘The seahorses were in a special tank of their own,’ said Dan.

  ‘And two of them were dancing with their tails hooked together,’ added Molly.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘They were so sweet,’ the little girl squeaked.

  ‘They were courting,’ Dan said in an undertone, while his eyes flashed with secret amusement.

  ‘Cute,’ said Billie, and she found herself blushing, but she had no idea why.

  The whole time they were eating, Molly, who’d come equipped with a bucket and spade, was eyeing off the shells scattered on the sand and quite desperate to collect them. A few times she announced she was finished and Dan gently encouraged her to eat a little more. But eventually he relented.