by Diana Fraser
Gabe grabbed the dogs and steered them away. But by the time he’d returned it didn’t look like order had returned in any sense whatsoever. What was with his family? Only Pete was trying to calm everyone by shouting, overly loudly, that there was more wine to be had, as if that would sort everything out.
Gabe turned to look at Maddy, wondering what her reaction to this chaos would be and he was surprised to see she’d stepped away as if preparing to bolt. Her dress was stained red and dirty from the paw prints, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Maddy. Hey, I’m sorry about your dress. Lizzi!” he called. “Do you think we can do something about the stains?”
Lizzi looked up from where she was tending to Amber’s cut and grimaced. “The sooner, the better. If you’d like change into something of mine, we can soak your dress.”
Maddy took another step back, her face pale as if she’d received a shock. “No, really, it’s fine. I’ll sort it out at home.”
“That might be too late,” Lizzi warned. “That silk looks old. It could stain.”
“I’ll go home now. I was only going to pop in to say ‘hello’ anyway. So I’d best get back.”
“You’re not going already, are you?” Gabe asked, while everyone else was focused on trying to tidy up the mess which had erupted so suddenly.
She nodded and stepped away. Gone was any kind of tentative smile, replaced by what looked like distress. “It’s for the best.”
“Best? Best for whom? Not for me, that’s for sure.”
“For me, then.”
“Look, I’m sorry about the mess. We’re not usually so klutzy, honestly. Come and have a drink. Have you got some of your wine there, Pete?”
“Sure.” Pete stepped forward and poured a glass for Maddy and held it out to her, saying the first thing that came into his head, to try to put her at her ease. “So, how long have you and Gabe been dating?”
Gabe cringed. “We’re not, Pete. Not dating.” Unfortunately no one appeared to hear above the dogs’ barking. He turned to Maddy. “Stay and have one drink, at least. I promise we’ll try to refrain from spilling blood or throwing wine around. Although I can’t guarantee that we won’t say the wrong thing. That is a Connelly specialty. But I can guarantee there will be good food.”
Maddy’s expression relaxed a little. “Good food is my weakness. Shame I’m a hopeless cook.”
“Then I don’t know what you’re doing dating Gabe,” said Rachel with a laugh, emerging from the kitchen. “He can’t cook either. You’re both going to have to eat out a lot.”
Everyone laughed while Gabe shot Maddy, who was looking even more uncomfortable, an apologetic smile. He waited until the laughter had subsided, deciding it would be easier to let the comment pass rather than make a big thing about it.
“You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone, mate!” said Zane.
Gabe shot his long-time best friend, and recent brother-in-law, a filthy look.
“Maddy!” shrieked Amber, returning to the veranda after disposing of the remains of the pot, and completely getting the wrong end of the stick. She ran up to Maddy and gave her a big hug. “I’m so happy that you’ve finally accepted the challenge of dating my big brother. Someone had to!”
Maddy shot Gabe a look, and Gabe knew that this wasn’t going to go away on its own.
“We’re not dating,” he said firmly.
Lizzi, who emerged holding up one of her dresses for Maddy had obviously only caught the word ‘dating.’ “What’s that Gabe?” She turned to Maddy. “So how long have you two been dating?”
His family was beginning to get on his nerves now. “We are not dating,” he said, emphasizing the word in a way which brooked no further questions. He glared at everyone, daring any of his outspoken siblings to question him further. And his glare, which he rarely gave, obviously did the trick. The mutterings and uncomfortable glances finally came to an end when Zane punched Gabe. “Sure thing, mate. Whatever you say.” He turned to Maddy. “Apologies, Maddy. And may I say what extremely good sense you have.”
The others laughed, but Gabe noticed Maddy didn’t. She looked away as if trying to work out an escape route. He caught her eye and gestured toward the beach. “Fancy a stroll before dinner?”
He’d meant it to be merely a means of escape, but Etta rolled her eyes and made a prolonged “oooo” sound, only silenced when she saw Zane’s warning expression. The others obviously thought the same thing but managed to cover it up.
Maddy jumped up. “No, I really should be going.” She looked around and not for the first time he was struck by the quiet dignity of the woman. She was beautiful, yes, enigmatic, definitely, but had a gravitas to which his own light-hearted nature was drawn, like choppy waves to a solid rock.
There was a general sense of dismay, overridden by Amber who hugged Maddy. “Of course, there’s no chance of a lie-in at the Backpackers. Flo will make sure of that! I’m so glad you came, Maddy.”
You could always count on Amber to say the genuine, heartfelt thing, even if it wasn’t always said at the right time. But now it was.
Maddy hugged Amber back with genuine warmth. It seemed, unbeknownst to him, that his little sister and Maddy had been forming a bond behind his back.
Everyone said their farewells, and he followed Maddy around the corner where the wisteria vine practically held up the corner of the house.
Away from the lighted candles and lanterns of the veranda, the lawn was dark, lit only at the end by two solar lamps pointing the way to the beach path. He waited for Maddy to speak but it appeared she wasn’t about to break the silence any time soon. He allowed the silence to stretch until they reached the solar lamps and reached out for her arm when she went to continue.
“Maddy, a minute please before you go.”
She folded her arms across her waist defensively. He regretted her need to do that.
“I’m sorry if you found my family too much,” he continued.
She shrugged. “You have a wonderful family. It’s me that’s the problem.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Gabriel, I should leave.” She backed away. “I should never have come. I thought…” She gulped and looked up into the darkening sky. “I thought I could handle it.”
“Handle what?” He opened his hands in disbelief. “My family? Of course you can. They’re not usually so crazy.” Then he thought again. “On second thoughts, they probably are. But still, they’re nothing you can’t handle.”
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“At least let me walk you home.”
She turned, and her face was pale in the changing light. “No, I’m fine. You go back to your family. I’ll see you when you return from overseas.”
Without a further word she turned and walked away.
Gabe watched until he couldn’t distinguish her outline from the gathering dusk. She’d be fine. The path was safe and rarely used. But it wasn’t that which made him reluctant to leave. Her sadness was tangible and all the worse for remaining firmly under wraps. But what could he do? Run after her and force her to tell him her problems? No. He’d helped too many people over the years—patients, friends, and family—not to know how to do it. You had to be consistent; you had to be there for them; you had to listen. But most of all you had to let them approach you. Timing was everything.
Gabe returned to the veranda and met Amber, who was standing by the wisteria looking out across the beach.
“We were too much for her, weren’t we?” said Amber, as Gabe climbed up the steps to her. “She wasn’t ready for us.”
Gabe frowned and looked at his little sister. “What do you mean? How wasn’t she ready for us?”
Amber shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is what I see, and that’s someone who, behind that calm Scandinavian façade, is quite distressed about something.” She shrugged again and turned away.
But Gabe didn’t turn away. He stood and watched the path where Maddy had been. She was invisible now. But he refused to bli
nk, refused to take his eyes from where he knew her to be, willing her to turn around, to return to him. But she didn’t. Despite how much he wanted her to, she didn’t. And there was no sound or shape to fill the emptiness.
He muttered an excuse for Maddy which he knew didn’t fool anyone. He took a beer from the table and yanked off the top and took a sip and wiped the foam from his mouth. For once his family had the tact to leave him out of their conversation. So he was left to his thoughts which inevitably led to him staring at the beach, where he’d last seen her. Its emptiness reflected his own. He’d misjudged Maddy. He’d thought she liked him, more than liked. But, even if she did, it wasn’t enough to rid herself of the terrors which haunted her, whatever they were. He wished it would put him off her. He wished Lizzi wasn’t right. He really, really wished that he hadn’t fallen in love with Maddy. He was just thankful that he hadn’t given in to his impulses and run right after her, taken her in his arms and kissed her until her heart was mended. Luckily, he was at least in control of his impulses—most of the time.
* * *
Maddy waited until she’d turned the corner before she allowed herself the release of tears. She’d thought she could do it. Go to Belendroit and meet the Connelly family. She’d imagined it for such a long time that it had become real in her head. But the place was the only thing that was like her imagination. Because in her dreams, in her mind, she’d always been there with Jonny, not Gabe.
All the talk of whether she was dating Gabe had torn at the heart of her. She shouldn’t be with him; it was all wrong. When she was well clear of the house, she stumbled from the path down to the sand and fell to her knees behind the shelter of a bush. She doubled over as the pain overwhelmed her at the clash between her visions of herself at the house with her fiancé, and the reality that that man was no longer alive, and, instead, everyone assumed she was Gabe’s girlfriend.
It was wrong, so wrong. She was in the right place, but with the wrong man. She wasn’t with her fiancé, Jonny, but his brother, Gabe, for whom she had no right to harbor such feelings. It was all wrong.
7
Maddy took a deep breath and glanced into Gabe’s surgery as she walked past, on the way to his house. There was one person seated in the small front parlor which acted as a waiting room, and Gabe’s door was closed. He was busy. She released her breath and opened the door to Gabe’s house with the key he’d given her. She walked down to his study.
He’d put the accounts and laptop out for her, which meant he’d still been expecting her. Good. After yesterday, she’d wondered whether he would. She’d certainly been in two minds because she knew that yesterday she’d baffled everyone—including herself. She wanted to be with him, and yet she couldn’t be with him. It was as simple and as complex as that. And, as for the rest of the family, they must think she was crazy. It wasn’t the impression she’d hoped to give Jonny’s family.
Still, she’d come to work. She’d said she would, and there was no point in avoiding him. But she’d work quickly to try to be gone before he emerged. But the minutes turned to hours as Maddy found that the business notes Gabe had left her required more work than she’d first thought. As she worked through the pile of old invoices and ran some statistical analyses on them, she couldn’t help wondering why he needed to do such in-depth work before he went away. It was almost as if he were detaining her there. She dismissed the thought as soon as it popped into her mind. Surely not?
She glanced at her watch and hurried through the remaining work. But she evidently didn’t work quickly enough, or Gabe worked more quickly, because he’d finished with his patients early and came and joined her in the sunny kitchen.
“Maddy,” he acknowledged with a wary smile as he turned his back to her and filled the kettle.
“Gabe,” she muttered, wishing she hadn’t come. The atmosphere between them was as chill as the southern ocean.
The water gushed into the kettle, and Gabe looked directly out the window at the small tree in the backyard, its uppermost leaves scorched by the hot sun, but still a tender green beneath. It sheltered a small seating area featuring a cluster of bright pink chairs. Amber’s work, Maddy assumed. Amber looked out for her big brother, and Maddy remembered all the things Amber and Gabe had done for her since she’d arrived and felt crushed by guilt.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, Gabe.” The words tumbled out. She wished her voice was stronger than the hoarse whisper which had emerged.
He half-twisted toward her but not enough to catch her eye. “Are you?” he asked, flicking off the tap and switching on the kettle. He turned to face her, and she almost wished he hadn’t. Gone was the affable Gabe, and in his place was a stern man whose thoughts were concealed by eyes which saw everything, but which revealed nothing. She bit her lip, trying to summon up the strength to meet that unwavering gaze.
“Yes, of course I am. It wasn’t my intention to turn up and then leave straight away. That’s plain weird.”
“Yes, that’s certainly what my family thought.”
She closed her eyes at the impact of his words and looked down at her work. She pushed some papers aside as she imagined the reaction of individual members of the Connelly family. “Yes, I guess they would.”
“Of course, if you had a rational explanation, I’m sure they’d reconsider their impression of you.”
He paused, waiting for her to explain, but she couldn’t. She was bound by a promise that prevented the kind of rational explanation which would make her actions understandable. She looked into his eyes. “It was difficult for a number of reasons which I can’t tell you about.”
“Secrets,” he said, his mouth one firm line. “Of course.” His tone was cool and disappointed. He turned his back to her and pulled a couple of mugs from the rack. “Tea? Coffee?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
He swung around. “And that’s where you’re wrong. You’re not fine at all. Something is eating you up.” Ignoring what she’d said, he flicked off the kettle before it had had a chance to boil, and poured luke-warm water into two mugs. “There’s a whole load of grief inside you which is barely contained by those big blue eyes of yours.” He put a couple of spoonfuls of coffee granules into the cups and gave them a desultory stir. They didn’t melt but lay bobbing on the gray surface. He looked out across the garden with unfocused eyes. “And until you do, you’ll be stuck in ‘weird.’”
“I’ve been stuck there for a while,” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It didn’t work.
He turned to her again, shook his head, and brought her a cup of the worst-looking coffee she’d ever seen. She looked up into eyes that had no awareness of anything but her. Gone was the coldness, replaced by a heated frustration. “I’m going away tomorrow.”
“Oh!” She wasn’t surprised that her response sounded as if she’d been punched in the stomach because that was how she felt. She’d become so used to him being around; she couldn’t imagine Akaroa without him. “I didn’t realize you were going away so soon. I thought you said you were leaving in a few weeks’ time.”
“Something’s come up, so I’m leaving for Papua New Guinea in the morning.”
“Wow! That is sudden. They were lucky to get you on such short notice.”
Gabe’s expression made her realize her mistake. The organization hadn’t got hold of him; it had been the other way around. He couldn’t wait to get away.
“A locum will cover for me while I’m gone.” She noticed he didn’t respond directly to her comment. She was right. He wanted to be gone from here, and from her, as soon as possible.
She swallowed, suddenly feeling bereft, suddenly aware of how her behavior was affecting him. “Do you want me to continue working here?” Her voice had gotten smaller.
He shrugged. “It’s up to you.” He held her gaze and drank from his mug, apparently oblivious to its dire taste. “Do you want to continue working here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
> She shrugged. “Because I like it.” She licked her lips as she tried to put into words exactly how she felt because she knew that the Gabe standing before her wouldn’t accept anything less. “Because I like the work, I like this place…the people. You.”
He paused. “Do you know what I’d like?”
She shook her head, not having a clue what he was about to say. She couldn’t predict anything about this new Gabe.
“I’d like you to feel passionate about something. Not just like. ‘Like’ isn’t enough for me, and it shouldn’t be enough for you.”
She suddenly saw the similarity with Jonny, the strength which was on the surface with Jonny, but which lay like a steel spine down the center of Gabe, hidden from the surface, but there, nonetheless.
“I… well, I.”
He paced away and thrust his fingers through his hair before twisting round to face her. “Stop it, Maddy, just stop it. You need to sort yourself out.”
“Sort myself out?” she replied faintly, unprepared for this lecture.
“Yes. And don’t repeat it as if you don’t understand what I’m talking about.”
She bridled under his stern tone. “I understand your meaning, but what I don’t understand is why you want me to.”
He ground his teeth, his expression grim. “Because I care, Maddy. Because I care.” Just in the use of that word, her irritation vanished. “And you should, too,” he added.
“Of course I care.”
“Not about yourself.”
She found it hard to argue with that. “It’s difficult.”
He sighed and sat down. “Okay, so tell me what’s so difficult about going to a friend’s house to meet his family. We didn’t bite; nor did the dogs—although that’s not surprising, they’re never aggressive.” A glimmer of the Gabe she knew had returned, and a smile briefly lit his face. “Unlike some members of the Connelly family.”