When she stepped out of the lift he emerged from a doorway towards the end of a long, carpeted hallway with soft lighting, not too dissimilar from her own apartment building.
‘This is a nice surprise.’ He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek when she reached him.
The greeting and the kiss were a good sign, weren’t they? You didn’t say or do that when you wanted the person to get lost.
Inside, she slid the cake box on to the kitchen bench and, noting the fawn carpet, pulled off her knee-high boots.
‘This place is great, it’s so central.’ Nerves were making her babble. ‘You don’t find it too noisy?’
‘Nah, I’m too young for noise to bother me. Give it another five years, though, and I’ll probably be desperate to migrate to the suburbs.’ He took her coat.
‘I know what you mean. My place is pretty quiet, but the odd party or being woken up by the dinging of the trams sometimes makes me think about living further out.’
She looked around at the bachelor pad that felt strangely non-lad-like. There were two identical black leather couches set at right angles to each other – okay, so pretty bachelor-like – and a tall lamp cast a soft glow across the room. A chocolate-brown rug on top of which sat a glass coffee table was positioned in front of the couches and matched the colour of two side tables. Even the walls held a couple of paintings and she paused to look at them.
‘That one’s Huntley High Street,’ he said from behind her right shoulder.
His proximity sent goose pimples up her arms. ‘I know. I recognise it. And what’s that one? I recognise that too, but I can’t place it.’
‘That one’s Brighton beach – I gave Jem a similar one for her birthday with those bright, colourful bathing boxes. She loves it.’
Her insides melted at his demeanour when he mentioned his family. It made him all the more attractive when she could see beyond the tall, dark-haired man with melting-pot eyes to someone who was caring and considerate too.
She had done the right thing in coming; she was sure of it now.
With her coat still draped over one arm, he took it over to an old-fashioned coat stand behind the door.
‘That’s pretty stylish.’ She put a hand out to feel the wooden, carved piece.
‘It belonged to my dad. He was a stickler for us hanging up our coats and now it’s a habit that I’ve never been able to shake off.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
She moved along to another picture. ‘This is you,’ she said, focusing on the photograph of a younger Evan running across a finishing line with a black number on a white background pinned to his chest.
‘That was the London Marathon,’ he said.
‘I’m impressed. And this one of the London skyline is great.’
‘London at night. Impressive, isn’t it?’ She caught her breath when his arm reached from behind her, across her shoulder as she stood in front of the painting. ‘There’s Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Bridge and, of course, the Millennium Wheel.’
‘Who took the picture of you crossing the finish line?’
‘That was Jem.’ When he moved away she felt able to breathe again. ‘She made the trek across the seas with Mum. She was almost ninety.’
‘I’d love to go.’
‘You could sign up for the London Marathon.’
‘Steady on. I was thinking more like a visit someday to see my sister, perhaps shop on Oxford Street, lunch in Covent Garden.’
‘Females.’ He shook his head, and then as though suddenly remembering the cake box, he pointed to it. ‘What’s this?’
At once she felt embarrassed at what lay inside. She paused, her hands on the box, ready for the big reveal. ‘It’s something I thought may cheer you up. Now I don’t know you well enough to know whether you’re a breast, leg or arse man, so I went for the most likely.’ She didn’t admit that the time they’d laid naked together and he had lingered over her breasts had given her the biggest clue as to his preference. She wiggled the lid off the box and said, ‘Ta-da!’
A wide grin spread across his face. ‘Come here you.’ He pulled her into him and she drowned in his long, lingering kiss, the unkempt stubble on his face softer than usual now that it had grown.
‘She must’ve had a boob job.’ He looked admiringly at the cake.
The breasts Maddie had made didn’t have a person attached, but they were two generous sized cakes piled with buttercream over vanilla sponge.
‘Those are some crazy looking nipples.’ Evan’s arms lay relaxed, draped across Maddie’s shoulders.
She looked down at the two chocolate discs with multicoloured sprinkles. ‘I made it on a whim. I didn’t have much else to use, so I had to make do with chocolate speckles.’
‘So multicoloured nipples it is, then.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re really talented, you know.’
‘I can make tasteful cakes too, but these get a better reaction.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’ He pulled away and Maddie wondered again whether she had done the right thing in coming here tonight. She was scared of making everything so wrong by trying to make it so right.
He filled a glass of water for her and pulled out a couple of plates, and it was then that Maddie got a glimpse of the same Evan who had captured her attention in the first place. They laughed over which boob to slice up first, over who would get the chocolate nipples covered in multicoloured hundreds and thousands.
‘It’s the patient’s prerogative,’ Maddie concluded. ‘You can choose.’
He cut two slices off the right cake and stole the speckle from the other so they each had one.
‘Thank you.’ Maddie sat on the sofa. ‘How are you feeling?’ She stopped herself from adding, ‘What’s the diagnosis? What the hell is happening?’
‘Good.’ He bit into the cake, halting the conversation in its tracks. It was as though the Evan she had been smitten by was playing peek-a-boo; one minute he was there and the next he was hiding again.
‘So have all the follow-up checks gone well?’ Her words came out staccato as she grappled to balance compassion with phrases that wouldn’t make him feel as though she was prying.
‘So far, so good.’ He popped the chocolate speckle into his mouth. ‘This cake is fantastic.’ He paused before his next bite. ‘It was definitely cancer, by the way. Stage one seminoma, if that means anything.’
He made his announcement with as much emotion as he had when he told her she’d baked a good cake.
‘Apparently it’s not a bad diagnosis, considering,’ he continued. ‘And if the cancer was going to spread it would have most likely have been to the abdomen, lungs and the lymph nodes in the chest, even the brain or bones in some cases. But there’s no sign of any of that at this stage. I’ll still need to be monitored, but they say with chemo to kill off any cancer cells that may have spread prior to the operation, the relapse rate is down to about five per cent.’
He took another bite of cake, unaware that as he ate, Maddie sat beside him reminding herself to breathe in and out. The sweet cake mixture felt too sickly in her mouth as she finished the last piece.
‘When will the chemo start?’ she asked.
He pushed his empty plate on to the coffee table. ‘The fun starts in a couple of weeks.’
The game of peek-a-boo had suddenly come to an end. He finally let his guard down. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, Maddie.’ She let him reach out and pull her hand into his own. It rested, with his, on top of his thigh as they sat side by side on the sofa.
Evan had so much to deal with, a fight to go through. But then so did she. It was happening all over again; the man she loved could be taken away from her and it was beyond her control.
‘You’re tired. I should probably leave you to it.’ Maddie wanted to run from the apartment. She wanted the icy wind outside to take hold of her and push her far, far away from reality.
When she stood, his hand tugged her own. ‘Don’t
go, Maddie. Would you stay, just for a while?’
Helplessly, her eyes met his and she lowered herself back down and settled against the leather sofa. He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed it with a kiss, sending tingles snaking through her body as she remembered what it felt like to be with him, to make love to him.
‘Stay, watch a movie with me maybe.’
It seemed so easy now if she just let herself be in the moment; no future, no past, just the two of them alone in a room. And she had to do it for him; that was the reason she had come, wasn’t it?
‘I will, on one condition,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s not an action flick.’
‘Hey, patient’s prerogative, remember. What about a compromise?’ He held up the DVD case of Armegeddon.
She nodded. It could be Bambi or Die Hard for all she cared. She had to focus on fighting the urge to run, to protect herself from more hurt.
‘Is your neck okay?’ She noticed his hand on his shoulder as he sat next to her, his head tilted to one side as though trying to stretch away a knot.
‘Just a bit stiff, probably slept funny.’
‘Well, it looks as though I can use both of my professions tonight, then.’
His eyes flittered dangerously, flirtatiously, and she felt her cheeks colour. That giddy feeling of something new took over and she relaxed. She indicated for him to sit on the floor and she sat on the sofa, putting her legs on either side of him.
Massage of the neck was something she did frequently at work, but never before had her hands shaken like this, had she been so mesmerised by her patient’s skin beneath her own. She could feel the knots in the left side of his shoulder in particular, and as the film began she worked away to release the tension.
‘Wow, that’s good. If you end up leaving the physio business, don’t ever give up the massage talent, will you?’
After a while she let her fingers lightly graze the skin on the back of his neck and felt him shudder. He moved back to the sofa and held Maddie’s hand as they watched the movie, his body stretched out and his head tilted on to her shoulder.
It wasn’t until the movie reached its climax that she realised how heavy Evan’s head had become. He was sound asleep.
She looked down at his faded blue tracksuit pants and the grey T-shirt with a stain at the bottom. With the stubble that would need to be cut before it turned into a full-on beard, he had never looked so sexy. This big, strong man was just as vulnerable as she was.
As the final credits began to roll, they woke Evan. ‘Are you crying?’ He looked up at Maddie before rubbing his hands across his face to wake himself up.
‘Guilty.’ She pulled a tissue from her pocket. She didn’t tell him the ending of the film was only part of the reason she had turned into a blubbering wreck. Her yo-yo of emotions hadn’t given up and as she had watched him, so peaceful, lolling around with her as though they were the only two people in existence and nothing else mattered, she had realised that this was actually real. She was falling in love for the second time in her life.
‘I’d better go.’ She stood suddenly. ‘You need to rest.’
She kissed him gently, her lips hovering on his before she pulled away. ‘Goodbye, Evan.’
‘Maddie.’ He caught her arm before she managed to push it into her coat sleeve. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, I just need to go.’
‘I know I’m not the best company at the moment, and that’s why I hadn’t invited you over before.’
‘You don’t need to explain. I’m sorry I put you on the spot.’
‘I’m glad you did, really glad.’ He reached up and cupped her cheek. ‘I need to work through this at my own pace, but I still want you.’
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ And with that she let the door click shut behind her and fled down the fire escape just in case he opened the door to his apartment and tried to stop her from getting in the lift.
Chapter Twenty
Sydney often outshone Melbourne in the weather stakes, and it was the perfect weekend to showcase the Northern Beaches with their never ending golden sands, swirling oceans that went on for miles, and towering palm trees that lined the walkways and surrounding green space.
Maddie hadn’t been in Sydney since Christmas, and with everything that had happened with Evan and the fact she had left his place in such a panic the other night, she felt she needed this distance. She smiled as she drove the hire car from Kingsford Smith Airport all the way up to Palm Beach, the northernmost suburb of Sydney. The drive was breathtaking, with surrounding bushland and glimpses of the unspoiled blue waters of the Pacific Ocean along the way. The breeze drifted through the open windows, grazing her neck, and the hair of her ponytail lifted and danced freely. It felt good to be free from everyday life, and although her thoughts followed her, a change in location was a welcome escape.
‘Maddie, you’re here!’ When she arrived her mum was first out of the door to meet her. Dressed in a floaty violet cotton dress with her hair in a neat grey bob, sunglasses nestled above the fringe, she looked as though Palm Beach had been her home her entire life.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Maddie hugged her. It felt unexpectedly settling to be back in the warm embrace of her family, and she blinked away the tears that took her by surprise.
‘You found the place okay, then?’
‘It was easy thanks to your directions, and there’s a Sat Nav in the hire car anyway.’
‘Oh, you don’t need one of those things,’ her mum dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. ‘We still have our Sydways and have no intention of modernising any time soon.
‘So how have you been?’
‘I’m fine. It’s great to finally see the new place, and I’d forgotten how fabulous it is up here.’
Maddie’s father had worked his way up the ranks and ended up as the Chief Executive Officer of a successful software company that had resisted the recent economic downturn. Growing up, Maddie and her sister, Jennifer, had been lucky enough to enjoy a grand house in the suburbs complete with a pool, trampoline, a sand pit, swing set and climbing bars. It had been nothing short of a child’s paradise and they had always been a close family. It was exactly how Maddie had envisioned her future with Riley – not the wealth, but the importance of family being at their very core.
Maddie walked up the worn steps to the renovated townhouse washed in ivory. ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘He’s popped out for some lunch.’
Maddie inspected the place from the granite bench tops in the kitchen area to the view beyond the wide balcony that stretched the width of the house. She was instantly drawn outside to see the ocean: boats bobbed drunkenly on the surface; the cries of gulls sounded as they organised each other in the sky. Back inside she found newly renovated bathrooms with gleaming accessories and her mum’s homely touches, including a basket of travel-sized toiletries with everything from mini Clinique soaps to miniature shaving kits – her mum had travelled frequently with her husband on business, and they always came back with more freebies than they needed from hotels and flights.
Maddie passed into the guest bedroom. The shutters opened back and the ocean refused to be ignored again.
‘This place is perfect.’ She left her weekend bag in the room and followed her mum into the kitchen. She took a breadstick from a plate and ran it through the tzatziki dip. ‘You must’ve been so pleased to get this place.’
‘We were very lucky.’ Her mum fanned out julienned carrot sticks on to the plate. ‘Our house in Cammeray went for far more than we hoped.’ She pulled a continental cucumber from the fridge and chopped it the same way before adding the pieces to the collection. ‘And there’s that beautiful spare room, so no excuses not to come and visit.’
When Riley died, Maddie’s parents had lost him too. He was like a son to Diane and Peter Kershaw. At the time Maddie had only been able to think of her own pain, and as a consequence she had kept herself to hers
elf, and her visits home had become less and less frequent. She just hoped Evan wouldn’t make the same mistakes she had; she knew he hadn’t told his mum about the operation, and possibly the single biggest mistake Maddie had made after losing Riley was to hold those she loved at bay.
Her dad bounded through the door and Maddie moved to his open arms.
‘Dad, it’s lovely to see you.’
‘It’s great to have you here, Maddie.’ He grinned at his daughter as he pulled out plastic containers, small and large, and a French stick which brought the scent of the local bakery to the kitchen with its freshness.
‘Did one of you make this?’ Maddie picked up a small, round pottery bowl glazed in navy blue with white sea-shells that she hadn’t seen before.
Her dad raised his hand. ‘Guilty.’
‘Dad, I’m impressed.’
‘It’s awful, I need more practice.’
‘Nonsense. Just for that I’m going to put this in it.’ Maddie emptied out the Quinoa salad with red onion, spinach and sunny peppers.
The family chatted over bold tomatoes stuffed with tuna, and slices of golden quiche. Maddie made a show of spooning out the Quinoa salad from her dad’s creation, and her mum poured out glasses of homemade lemonade, a childhood favourite of Maddie’s and one that never ceased to appeal all through adulthood. They talked about her work; they talked about Palm Beach and the difference it made to their lives to be out of the busier suburbs.
‘I’ve even taken up golf.’ Her mum tucked her hair behind her ears. Her hair was cut short but slightly longer on top and the graduated lengths coming down in a fringe sat above wide-set hazel eyes. She had gone grey but added shades at regular hairdresser appointments made her look good for her sixty-nine years. Pale skin that had been looked after by vigilant use of sunscreen and the wearing of a hat over the years helped too.
‘I never thought I’d see you take up golf, Mum. Whenever Dad watched it on TV or went off to play you couldn’t have been less interested. What was it you used to call it?’
‘A sport for gossips and middle-aged men,’ her dad chuckled, spooning out more salad and adding an extra helping of butter to his bread.
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