The Return of Her Past

by Lindsay Armstrong

  In fact Mia couldn’t speak for a few minutes afterwards as she lay cradled in his arms, her body slick with sweat, her hair a cloud of rough black silk on the pillow. And she made a tiny sound when he moved—a sound of protest.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he reassured her and pulled the sheet up. ‘I’m going nowhere.’

  She relaxed.

  * * *

  Mia sat cross-legged on the beach early the next morning, sifting sand through her fingers as she watched Carlos body-surfing into the beach.

  She’d given up on her hair and hadn’t even bothered to pin it back. She wore short white shorts and her turquoise T-shirt, she was barefoot and, because of a playful breeze, she’d pulled on Carlos’s sweatshirt.

  It was miles too big for her but it not only made her feel warm, it was like having his arms around her.

  She was smiling at absolutely nothing at all.

  ‘Hi.’ He stood in front of her, droplets of water still sliding down his sleek tanned body, and picked up his towel as he studied her dimples. ‘Something funny?’

  ‘No,’ she assured him. ‘Oh, you’ll want your top.’ She started to take his sweatshirt off.

  ‘Keep it on,’ he said. ‘I’ll use the towel—now you’re laughing!’ He looked around. ‘What is it?’ He sat down beside her.

  ‘It’s me,’ she told him.

  He grimaced. ‘What’s so funny about you?’

  ‘You know those stereotyped women you see on TV and in the movies who float around radiantly on cloud nine after someone has made love to them?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ He rubbed his hair with the towel and looked at her quizzically. ‘Not...?’ He didn’t finish.

  ‘Yep.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘That’s who I remind myself of this morning. Or those smiley faces on computers.’

  ‘The smiley trail?’ He started to laugh and pulled her into his arms and lay back on the sand with her. ‘You’re crazy,’ he teased.

  ‘And you’re wonderful,’ she replied, sobering. ‘There is something else your lovemaking has achieved, though.’

  ‘I hesitate to ask,’ he said ruefully.

  ‘I could eat a horse,’ she told him. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Ah—’ he sat up with her still in his arms ‘—now there we are of the same mind. Let’s go.’

  * * *

  They got back to their room and Mia showered while Carlos ordered breakfast.

  When she emerged, breakfast had not arrived but a bottle of champagne stood in an ice bucket on the coffee table next to two flutes and a flask of orange juice.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, recalling their conversation about morning-after champagne celebrations. ‘Dangerous and delightful.’

  Carlos had showered at the beach and he wore khaki shorts and a white shirt. His hair was still damp and hanging in his eyes. His feet were bare but he was enough to make her heart beat faster and then, when he came and ran his hands down her body, over her colourful cotton sarong, all the fire he’d aroused in her the night before came back to her and she trembled and put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.

  ‘You shouldn’t,’ she said huskily.

  He traced his fingers down the side of her neck and cupped the smooth curve of her shoulder. ‘Shouldn’t?’ He said it barely audibly.

  ‘Touch me. It sets off all sorts of chain reactions.’

  She felt his slight jolt of laughter and he kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re not alone.’

  There was a knock on the door.

  They drew apart, both laughing.

  * * *

  It was a glorious day.

  She spoke at length to her parents, then they drove up to the lighthouse after lunch and were rewarded as they gazed down at the wrinkled blue ocean to see a pod of humpback whales making their way back to the Southern Ocean after their sojourn in the tropical waters of Queensland.

  ‘There’s something about them that always makes me feel emotional,’ she said of the whales as they sat on a bench from where they could see not only the ocean to the east of Cape Byron but the protected beaches to the west as well as Mount Warning, and Julian Rocks out in the bay.

  ‘I think it’s because they’re so big and it’s such an amazing journey.’ He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t cry.’

  She sniffed. ‘I’m not crying, not really.’

  ‘How about—’ he stretched out his legs ‘—we go out for dinner tonight?’

  ‘Uh...we could. Any special reason?’

  He meditated for a moment. ‘There’s a band playing at the restaurant next door to the motel,’ he said, ‘so we could eat and dance.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘But I have an ulterior motive,’ he went on. ‘I think I would like to see a really glamorous version of you, all dressed and tizzied up, and be confident in the knowledge that when I got you back to our room I’d be able to undo it all.’

  Mia choked. ‘That’s...diabolical.’

  He took his arm from her shoulders and sat forward, taking her hand. ‘You’d enjoy it, I promise.’

  ‘I...possibly,’ she conceded. ‘Always assuming I could sit still and eat my dinner with that on my mind. However—’ she paused dramatically ‘—there’s one problem.’

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  ‘I didn’t bring any smart clothes with me.’

  ‘Ah. Well, look, while I make some calls, why don’t you undertake some retail therapy?’

  Mia pursed her lips. ‘You really think I should?’

  ‘I really do. I’ve discovered that next to sex—and sometimes even over and above sex—retail therapy does wonders for girls.’

  Mia almost went cross-eyed as she struggled not to make a thoroughly exasperated feminist retort to this.

  ‘You don’t agree?’ he asked.

  Mia looked at him. He was still in his khaki shorts and white shirt. The breeze was lifting his hair and the fine white cotton of his shirt.

  He looked big, utterly relaxed and sinfully attractive with one dark eyebrow raised quizzically at her. As if he knew exactly what was going through her mind....

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t mind a bit of retail therapy.’ She waited for a moment but he said nothing. ‘And of course Byron is not a bad spot for it,’ she added.

  ‘Bravo!’

  Mia blinked. ‘What for?’

  ‘Not responding to the bait,’ he drawled and put his arms around her.

  Mia frowned, squinted, then gave way to laughter. ‘How could I? Nothing on earth is going to stop me from going shopping now!’

  He kissed her and they got up and strolled back to the car, hand in hand.

  * * *

  Byron Bay, with its village atmosphere and plethora of boutiques and restaurants, was a charming place for a spot of retail therapy.

  It was in a glamorous little boutique that Mia found the dress. Chalk-blue in a crinkly fabric, the bodice was sleeveless and moulded to her figure, with tantalising cut-outs from under the arms to the waist. The skirt billowed down her legs with a long slit up one side. A pair of high blue suede sandals could have been made for the outfit so she bought them too.

  Then she found a hairdresser and not only had her hair done but her finger and toenails painted a dark blue. It was the hairdresser who directed her to a lingerie shop where she purchased a pair of divine high-cut panties in blue satin and lace. The dress, on account of its cut-outs, had a built-in bra, but, because she was really on a roll, she also bought a sleek ivory silk nightgown that came with a black silk kimono embroidered with ivory birds of paradise that she fell in love with.

  She took herself back to the motel, deeply satisfied with her session of ‘retail therapy’ but wondering how she was going to hide a certain glint in her eye from Carlos. Then she decided she didn’t care. She was quite happy to share her euphoria with him.

  He wasn’t there.

  There was a note on the table to the effect that he’d got a call from a business associa
te who’d found out they were both in Byron, and he’d gone to meet him for a drink. He was, the note said, ready for dinner and he’d meet her at the restaurant next door to the motel.

  ‘It’ll give you the time and privacy to do your own thing,’ the note finished.

  She stared at it and discovered she didn’t want the time and privacy to do her own thing. She wanted nothing more than to sit down with him, maybe share a glass of champagne with him, and talk.

  Yes, and show him her purchases, perhaps even model them for him, but anyway, she didn’t want to be alone.

  She dropped her carrier bags on the bed and sat down on it with a sudden sigh. So much to think about; when had this happened? How had she let it happen without any trace of a fight? Why did she hear something like warning bells ringing in her brain?

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHE WAS READY on the dot of seven.

  She was not a hundred per cent happy about walking the short distance to the restaurant on her own. Not that she was afraid of being mugged or anything like that; she suddenly felt more dressed up than most people would be, an out of place sort of feeling. She turned to the kitchenette to pour herself a glass of water but a sound from the sliding glass door that led out to the garden and the pool arrested her, and she swung back on her beautiful new heels.

  It was Carlos.

  He wore a dark suit, a pale shirt and a navy tie.

  He looked completely serious, even inscrutably so in a way that highlighted his dark looks.

  And they stayed poised like that for what seemed like an eternity, staring at each other across the wide expanse of the bed.

  It was an extraordinary moment for Mia. Not only the furnishings, the painting of orchids on the wall, the fall of the curtains seemed to be imprinted on her consciousness, but everything about Carlos too.

  How wide his shoulders looked beneath the suit—how different he looked in a suit, come to that, she thought. Far more impressive than his father ever had.

  But, at the same time, it registered with her that there was an air of mystery about him. As if he was a man she only knew a small part of, and she shivered suddenly.

  He stirred at last and put out a hand.

  She hesitated for a moment, then walked forward to take it.

  ‘You look sensational,’ he said barely audibly as the beautiful dress settled around her legs.

  She moistened her lips. ‘So do you.’

  ‘I came to get you.’

  ‘I’m glad you did.’

  ‘So am I.’ He pulled her a touch closer. ‘Someone on a white horse with wings could have whisked you up and away over oceans and continents.’

  A smile trembled on her lips.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Is that what you were worried about?’

  ‘Hardly,’ she murmured. She looked down at herself. ‘I felt a little out of place. And maybe a bit shy about walking into a restaurant on my own. So that’s why I’m glad you came.’

  ‘Good.’ He drew her even closer then, right into his arms. ‘Am I allowed to kiss you?’

  ‘That depends.’ She brought her hands up against his chest.

  ‘On what?’ he drawled.

  ‘If it’s a gentle salutation you have in mind, that’s permitted. I—’

  But he interrupted her and bent her backwards over his arm with his other arm around her hips. ‘How about this?’

  Mia maintained her decorum with an effort. ‘If you don’t wreck my hair and my make-up, it’s fine. If you do—’

  ‘You’ll never speak to me again? You’ll scream blue murder?’ he suggested with a wicked glint.

  ‘No, I’ll get changed and go for a jog along the beach. And I’ll buy a hamburger for dinner.’

  Surprise saw Carlos O’Connor straighten and Mia started to laugh.

  ‘Is that what you really want to do?’ he asked, looking startled.

  ‘After all this?’ She pushed herself a little away from him and gestured down her figure expressively. ‘I wasn’t really serious.’

  His lips twisted. ‘It would be fun, though. We could take a blanket. We could take some wine. It’s a full moon tonight. It’s mid-week, it’s not school holidays, so there aren’t many people on the beach and, anyway, I know of a secluded spot.’

  Mia put her hands on her hips. ‘You...are serious?’

  He leant back against the door and folded his arms. ‘You were the one who brought it up.’

  ‘I know, but—’ she looked down at herself again ‘—all this!’

  ‘You could wear it tomorrow night.’ He straightened. ‘We could just reverse things.’

  ‘Are we staying another night, though? I didn’t...I mean, I didn’t know.’ She broke off.

  ‘I believe Gail is coping brilliantly,’ he remarked, ‘so why not?’

  Mia shrugged. ‘You’re right. So much for believing I was indispensable.’

  ‘How about it, then?’

  She looked up at him. ‘Why not? So long as you promise not to seduce me to some other venue tomorrow.’

  ‘I promise we can dress up all over again tomorrow night.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  * * *

  ‘This is rather lovely,’ Mia pronounced as she snuggled up against Carlos in the depression they’d scooped in the sand against a bank and lined with a car rug he kept stored in the boot of his car.

  They’d finished hamburgers with the lot: lettuce—iceberg specially requested—pineapple, beetroot, tomato, onion and cheese. There had also been chips. They’d bought a bottle of wine and some plastic glasses to drink it from.

  The moon had cleared Cape Byron and was sending down a white light on the sea, and the stars looked within reach.

  They were both dressed warmly against the night air.

  ‘Be nice to put all this in a bottle,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘We wouldn’t need to if we got married. We could do it time and again.’

  Mia took an unexpected breath and tensed. ‘Carlos, I don’t know what to say.’

  He picked up her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Look, it’s a thought. What else did you have in mind? An affair?’

  ‘If...I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I don’t really know what to think. It happened—’ she pulled her hand free and gestured a little helplessly ‘—so out of the blue.’

  ‘Really?’ he said with an audible tinge of scepticism.

  Mia bit her lip. She sat up suddenly and rested her chin on her knees. ‘Maybe not,’ she conceded, and paused as she suddenly recalled the horribly embarrassing fact that he’d known about her crush on him.

  She grimaced. ‘Look, all right, there was always some attraction but—’ she hesitated, then said bleakly and honestly ‘—I’ve taken a bit of a battering lately.’

  ‘You’re not operating on full power, full mental capacity?’ he suggested. ‘Is that what you’re trying to say?’

  She shrugged. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And that’s why you fell into my arms without so much as a murmur of opposition?’

  Mia glanced over her shoulder but she couldn’t read his expression. A little shiver ran down her spine all the same. ‘Well...’

  ‘Not because you really wanted it, because you couldn’t help yourself or anything like that? Not because it was us and nothing else was going to work?’

  There was no doubting the mockery in his voice now.

  Mia trembled within. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,’ she said slowly and carefully.

  ‘Because—’ he sat up abruptly ‘—you needed some space to lick your wounds? Is that it, Mia?’ he shot at her.

  She stumbled to her feet. ‘Yes. Probably. I haven’t had time to analyse it but you don’t have to make it sound so awful.’

  He stood up behind her. ‘How would you put it?’ he asked harshly, putting his hands on her shoulders and spinning her round to face him.

  She tripped over her feet and had to cling to him for a moment. ‘As
...as needing some warmth, some consolation,’ she stammered. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘It’s a lie,’ he said and gripped her shoulders again. ‘That’s what’s wrong with it. You need me, we need each other now and nothing else is going to make sense.’

  Mia could feel her temper rising. ‘You can’t dictate to me like this, Carlos. I’ll make up my own mind.’ And she pulled away.

  He reached for her but she warded him off and ran down the beach towards the water’s edge. ‘Stay away from me, Carlos,’ she warned.

  He took absolutely no notice of her and she ran a bit further, quite unaware the tide was coming in until a rogue wavelet broke around her ankles and her feet sank into the sand. She put out her hands to steady herself but fell over, just in time to be doused by another wavelet.

  ‘Mia, be careful!’ Carlos lifted her up and set her on her feet. ‘You’re all wet and sandy. What did you think I was going to do to you?’

  ‘Kiss me,’ she said through her teeth. ‘Kiss me and hold me and touch me until I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels and then persuade me to elope! But that’s not fair, Carlos. I don’t want to marry you.’

  ‘Sure?’ He asked it quite casually as he lifted her and set her down further up the beach and out of the way of the incoming tide.

  ‘No, of course I’m not sure,’ she said irritably as she looked down at the sodden mess she was. ‘There’d be lots of quite nice things about being married to you. None of them are the real reason for marriage, though.’

  ‘Quite nice things such as Bellbird, such as playing ladies and imagining yourself on an Indian hill station? Such as kids when you want them and as many as you want?’

  She clicked her tongue. ‘Those were dreams. I never really expected them to come true.’

  ‘All right, how about this, then? Such satisfactory sex you can’t stop smiling?’

  Mia bit her lip and inwardly cursed Carlos.

  He went on. ‘As for those real reasons you quote—I imagine being madly in love for ever and ever is numero uno?’ He raised a dark eyebrow at her.

  She nodded reluctantly.

  ‘How are you supposed to know it’s going to happen?’ he enquired.