by Diana Fraser
The woman watched Maddy open with a click the well-used leather purse where she kept her loose change. “On the house.” The woman stretched over and plucked a still-warm chocolate croissant. “Here and take one of these too.”
Maddy opened her eyes wide with surprise and then frowned. “It’s okay, I can pay.”
“I’m sure you can. That’s not why I’m offering.” The woman popped the croissant into a second bag. “Consider it a welcome to Akaroa. I hope you enjoy your stay.” She passed over the bag, and waved away Maddy’s collection of coins. “So, have you traveled far?”
“From Amsterdam, via the US.”
“That’s about as far as you can get!” Amber tilted her head to one side. “So you’re going to be sight-seeing for a few months?” She laughed. “I’m not sure we have that much to offer!”
Maddy was dying to take a bite out of the pie, but restrained herself. The woman was kind. She shrugged. “I thought I’d look around for a job. I have a temporary work visa,” she added quickly, accustomed to people wary of illegal employment.
“What is it you do?”
She swallowed hard, trying to stop her mouth from watering. “Anything. I can wait at tables, answer phones. I know a few languages, and I’ve done barista work. I can turn my hand to anything.” One more inhalation of the pie and she couldn’t wait any longer. She took a bite and closed her eyes as the flavors of the meat pie filled her mouth.
The woman cocked her head to one side. “Really? I’d have put you down for something brainy like, I don’t know, something hard and sciency.”
Maddy nearly choked at the woman’s accurate observation. She swallowed, and then coughed.
The woman grinned. “I’m right, aren’t I? I’m always right about people. My sisters reckon I have a sixth sense.” She stuck out a hand. “I’m Amber.”
Maddy gripped the hand. “Madeleine MacGillivray, but everyone calls me Maddy. It’s lovely to meet you, Amber.”
Amber moved around the counter and hesitated. Maddy braced herself for more questions. Amber didn’t strike her as the kind of woman who worried too much about privacy. The inquisition was about to begin. She mentally rehearsed her answers to how she knew about Akaroa and what had drawn her here for more than just a brief visit. Instead Amber gestured to the coffee machine. “Would you like a coffee to go with that pie?”
Maddy let a long breath escape. “That would be great. It’s been a long time since the plane.”
“So… you’ve just arrived in today.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty tired. They were longer flights than I imagined.”
“It’s the price you have to pay for living in paradise.” Amber smiled again and poured two coffees. “Mind if I join you for five minutes?”
“Sure,” said Maddy surprised, as she followed Amber to a nearby table.
“So tell me, what kind of job are you looking for?”
“Anything really. Recently I’ve worked in hotels—cleaning, admin, reception, whatever is required.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Amber what her real profession was. But that was too much, too soon. “So…” Maddy looked around the café, desperate for a change in subject. “Is this your café ?”
“No. I just work here. It gives me enough money to allow me to follow my passion.”
“Which is?”
“Art. I love creating things. Installations, paintings, sculpture, glasswork. You name it, I’ll have a go at creating it.”
“That’s amazing. I’m always in awe of artists. I can’t imagine how they can come up with things. The few times I’ve tried, it looks like a child has created it. Actually, I’m doing children a disservice. But it looks nothing like I imagine.”
“I guess there’s a place for all of us, isn’t there?” Amber grinned. “I don’t know of any waitressing jobs going. Is there anything else you could turn your hand to? I know someone who needs help with office work.”
“Accounts, that sort of thing? Sure. I know spreadsheets inside out.”
Amber slammed her hand on the table, making Maddy jump. “I have just the job for you! This person needs help; he’s hopelessly disorganized, paperwork everywhere. I reckon probably everyone in the town owes him money.” She jumped up. “Stay there. I have a phone call to make.”
Maddy didn’t need further persuading and began to make serious in-roads into the pie. The food and coffee soon improved her spirits and, when Amber slid into the seat opposite again, unable to suppress a grin, Maddy felt cautiously optimistic.
“I’ve got you a job!”
“You’ve got me a what?”
“A job! Or an interview for one. I have to warn you that he doesn’t think he needs help, but at least he’s agreed to see you.” She giggled. “I put a sign on his door last night. I try it from time to time. I wonder if it’s still there. It usually doesn’t last long.” She sat back with a self-satisfied smile. “And somehow, I reckon he’ll take one look at you and be more than happy to employ you. And not just because it’ll take the pressure off him from the family.”
Maddy couldn’t quite bring herself to match the brightness of the smile. Amber’s implication that this man would employ her based on her looks alone made her feel uncomfortable. “What can I say? Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Now, do you have anywhere to stay?”
Maddy shook her head and waited. Somehow she thought Amber might have a solution to this problem too. She didn’t have to wait long. Amber scribbled something on the back of the café’s business card and pushed it across the table with a triumphant look. “There’s a small backpackers’ hostel down the road. It’s run by Floriana—although only call her that if you want a black look—and if you care to help out there I’m sure she’ll give you a good deal.” She plucked one of the postcards that sat on the table and scribbled a note. “Take this to Flo.”
Maddy took the note from her, noting the beautifully formed words. “Not many people write notes, now.”
“I don’t use cell phones. They destroy the atmosphere.”
Maddy grinned. “You mean the radio waves?”
Amber shrugged. “No, just the atmosphere. It feels better without them. The vibe is different.”
Maddy looked around the small café and had to agree. The vibe of the café was peaceful. And Amber was most definitely unusual. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
“Good. Akaroa could always do with more permanent inhabitants.”
Maddy suddenly felt alarmed. “Oh, I’ll be gone by winter.” She bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything further.
Amber tilted her head to one side. “Like a migrating bird.” The doorbell jangled, and she finished her coffee. “Enjoy your breakfast, I’d best get on.”
Amber bounced across the café to serve another customer, her red ponytail swinging down the back of her black t-shirt. Maddy took another bite of her pie and looked out the window across the harbor, calm and unruffled under the morning sun, toward the far hills. And she suddenly realized that, for the first time since he’d died, she felt soothed. Whether it was the town itself, cradled in the hills next to such a beautiful harbor, or Amber’s warmth and generosity, or the fact that it was his hometown, she couldn’t have said. The pie was also a contender, she thought, as she took another bite. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She finished the pie and decided to save the croissant until later. She didn’t know when she’d be eating again. She drank the last of her coffee and returned the crockery to Amber.
“Thanks so much for everything. You’ve been very kind.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay, Maddy, however long you decide to make it. It’s peaceful here and, if you don’t mind me saying, you look as if you could do with a little peace.”
Maddy raised her eyebrows in surprise. She wasn’t in the habit of communicating with strangers, and she’d said more to Amber than usual. There was something about the petite redhead that seemed to make small talk pointless.
; “All the best with the job, and Flo.”
“Thanks.” She pulled the rucksack onto her shoulder. “So, when is my interview for the job?”
“He usually comes here for lunch. He does everything by clockwork. Be here at one, and you’ll see him. And after six, he’ll probably be eating his usual chips or whatever in the local pub, or at his house. You’ll be able to catch him there later if it’s easier.” She scribbled down the address.
Maddy didn’t look at the card, just slipped it into the back of her rucksack. “Thanks so much for everything. I didn’t expect to have found food, a job and a place to stay within the first hour of my arrival!”
Amber laughed and, disconcertingly, stepped forward and gave Maddy a hug. It was just a brief one, but it shocked her. She did her best not to get close to people. Looking like she did, most people felt she was aloof, standoffish, and she didn’t do anything to contradict that impression. But for some reason, Amber wasn’t to be put off.
Maddy stepped back. She could see in Amber’s eyes that she had registered Maddy’s shock, and Amber smiled reassuringly. “I’ll see you at lunchtime then.”
“Sure,” said Maddy, fiddling with the straps on her bag. “Sure,” she repeated, standing up straight and forcing a smile on her face. She hated being touched. It made her feel vulnerable.
Amber’s grin widened. “Give me one more ‘sure,’ and I’ll begin to doubt you.”
Maddy’s forced smile turned into a natural one. It seemed Amber wasn’t to be put off by anything. She was a force of nature. “I’ll see you later.” She hitched her rucksack onto her back
“Maddy!” Amber called. Maddy turned around. Amber had followed her and was leaning against the counter, her arms crossed, watching her.
“Yes?” She wondered for a terrible moment if she’d misunderstood and owed some money after all.
“Why are you here? Sorry, I’m curious.”
Maddy kept herself to herself, and always had done, until she’d met him on a rainy afternoon in Amsterdam and he’d teased her out of her shell. But she was firmly back in it again now. However, she owed this woman the truth, or at least a part of it. “I’m keeping a promise to someone.”
Amber frowned. “Sounds intriguing.”
Maddy shrugged. “Not really. It’s just a promise.” Maddy hoped that Amber would leave it at that.
“Promises are important. Anyhow, have a great day and say ‘hi’ to Gabe for me.”
Gabe? Amber hadn’t mentioned the person’s name before and, as Maddy walked out the door, the name echoed in her head. She felt for the card, but it was zipped up tight and out of reach. She must have put it in the back pocket of her rucksack. She’d check later. Gabe? She repeated it to herself. It wasn’t an unusual name, she supposed. Gabriel, Gabe. But still.
Maddy closed the door quietly, trying to minimize the brassy jangle of the bell which cut through the quiet of the early morning. She walked down the steps of the café and across the road so she could enjoy the beauty of the harbor on her walk to the backpackers’ which was situated at the farther end of a curve of the bay. A light mist lay on the water which was a soft grayish green, reflecting the color of the hills on the far side of the harbor and the diffused light in the sky above. There was not a breath of wind: it was as if the morning was holding its breath, waiting to see what would come of Maddy MacGillivray’s visit to the other end of the world. She was beginning to feel curious, too, now that she’d eaten and regained some courage. Which was just as well, she reflected, because she sure needed courage now.
She looked around for a bench or table, hidden from sight of the café. She needed to be somewhere private before checking. She found a lone bench under the shade of a pohutukawa tree. She swung her heavy rucksack onto the wooden seat, sat down beside it, and pulled out the card. She looked across the sweep of the bay toward the opposite side of the harbor. It had a pale, early morning gleam which reflected the light too brightly, making it hard to see beyond the surface. The colors of the hills, the pier jutting out into the water and the line of colonial houses behind her which edged the beach road, were affected by the bright gleam, taking the edge off the color, bleaching it with its brilliance. It felt strangely unreal, tapping the card in her hand as her mind returned to Amsterdam and her last moments with the man who’d cast a spell on her. He was gone now, but the spell remained.
He’d told her to come. He’d told her she had to stay for six months; he’d told her to seek out Gabe. Was this the same man? How could it be? What sort of world was it that everything lined up neatly for her? Not the sort she was used to, for sure. But ever since she’d landed in New Zealand things seemed to have fallen into place. She’d been met with nothing but friendliness and kindness—particularly in Akaroa, particularly with Amber.
So. She tapped the card, drew a deep breath and turned it over in her hand. “Gabe Connelly” it read.
She sucked in a jerky breath. Dr. Gabe Connelly. She bit her lip as she slid the card back in her pocket. She’d thought she’d come here, stick around for the six months she’d promised, and make a desultory attempt to make contact with Gabe Connelly, just as she’d promised to do. But not do anything more than that. Looked like fate had other ideas.
2
Dr. Gabriel Connelly finished his phone call after listening to yet another lecture from his little sister, Amber.
Gabe had always found that it didn’t pay to argue with Amber because (a) she never let logic stand in the way of her opinions, and (b) she was usually right. It was time he employed someone to do his accounts for him. Although how Amber deduced this was beyond him. He knew for a fact that Lizzi took care of all of Amber’s finances after discovering that if Amber had managed her money better—particularly if she hadn’t given half of it to away to everyone with a sob story—she’d have been able to put down a deposit on an apartment. No, it wasn’t only Amber; it was another Connelly Sister Conspiracy. He really should call it the CSC for short—it happened often enough.
His sisters—Lizzi, Rachel, and Amber—seemed to have some uncanny instinct when it came to knowing what their brothers needed. Gabe imagined them texting and phoning each other daily to check out whether any of their brothers—or Dad, he wasn’t exempt from their meddling—needed advice, guidance, help or downright interference in their lives. Since Max was married he was out of the picture—he didn’t think Laura would take kindly to sisterly intrusion—and his other two brothers, Rob and Cameron, were overseas, so the CSC had upped the ante on Gabe. Gabe just hoped it wouldn’t take something drastic like marriage to make his sisters believe that he was okay.
He tossed his phone onto the couch and looked out onto the main street of Akaroa. He loved this place, despite, or (he had to admit) because of his family. Every time he returned from an overseas stint for Médecins Sans Frontières his appreciation of his home went up a notch.
Amber teased him that one of these days he’d return to Akaroa and never leave. But she was wrong. Yes, it was his home, where he and his family lived, but that wasn’t enough for him. It was all too easy; he was easygoing, and there was nothing he could do about that. The quiet town had few dramas, and well, not to put too fine a point on it, he wanted something more to exercise his restless mind. He’d had a few relationships before becoming engaged to a woman some years before. He’d called it off when he realized that he didn’t feel as strongly for her as she did for him. Even now the word “love” didn’t enter his head when he remembered about his ex-fiancée. She’d been lovely, comfortable, an easy companion, but there had been something missing. And he had no idea what. But it had warned him off women for some time. He didn’t want to hurt anyone and until he felt sure he wouldn’t, and until he could understand them better, he reckoned he needed to stay clear.
He was about to turn away from the window to check his diary when a flash of white caught his eye. A young woman—tall, scruffily dressed and wearing a heavy-looking ruck-sack—looked first one way and then
the other and walked quickly across the road to avoid a car. He caught a glimpse of wide blue eyes, high cheekbones and a spare bone-structure revealed by the blonde ponytail which swung down her back as she twisted to check the traffic. She was stunning, and there was something about her manner which looked as if she either didn’t have the first idea how gorgeous she was, or, if she did, she couldn’t have cared less.
He let out a slow whistle under his breath. He might not understand women, he might not be dating, but he could still appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one. His eyes lingered on her as she hesitated on the corner of the street, and turned to look up at the hills that rose above Akaroa, bright in the early sunshine. He inhaled slowly, trying to quiet his quickened heartbeat, trying, in vain, to damp down his instant attraction to this stranger, because she wasn’t only beautiful, she had a different quality about her, something he couldn’t pin down, something out of place. There were plenty of beautiful people passing through Akaroa, from rich boaties popping in for coffee before taking off to their secluded holiday homes, to scruffy backpackers like this woman, but she looked different. And he couldn’t put his finger on why. She was a stranger with a story. He felt it in his bones. He groaned. God save him from mysterious women with stories. But he knew, if God was on his side, he wouldn’t save him from her, he’d help him get to know her.
His brief prayer to God was interrupted by the buzzer of his intercom, and his elderly receptionist’s voice loudly announced his next patient as if she were presenting the news on the BBC World Service. He smiled to himself. After a year Brenda still couldn’t get used to the intercom. He opened the door, smiled at Brenda who sat immaculate in pearls and suit, and ushered his next patient inside.
As he listened to his patient, all thoughts of the mystery blonde disappeared. He loved his patients and he loved helping them. They always received one hundred percent of his attention. For now, at least.