‘That would be great.’ He heard the smile in her voice. ‘One more thing.’
His heart sank. ‘What?’
‘Do you think you could phone Mum?’
Chapter Eleven
‘You what?’ Forgetting they were sitting in the middle of About Coffee Time, Lauren shrieked at Whitney.
A pained expression came across Whitney’s face. ‘She’s not that bad and she’s Rats’ best mate’s wife. He asked me to make an effort.’
Whitney was very lucky they were in a public place because right now Lauren could easily have throttled her. Instead she clenched her fists at her sides and turned to look at the entrance, her heart pounding at the thought of Ellie coming through it any minute. ‘He asked you to make an effort, not me.’
She’d already been dreading their weekly morning coffee because she guessed word would have gotten around town about her brush with Tom in the storeroom. In the two days since, they’d done a pretty good job of settling into platonic friendship, but after what Taryn had seen, not even a full page advertisement in the local rag would make people believe that she and Tom were just friends. Now it looked like not only would she have to put up with whispered voices and knowing looks, she’d have to do it all while being pleasant to her archenemy.
‘Well,’ Whitney continued defensively, ‘you’re leaving town soon, so I’m going to need someone to hang with.’
‘Actually, I’m not going until after Christmas, but anyway, I don’t see why I need to get all chummy with Ellie in order for you to.’
‘Ooh, did you decide to stay because of that spunky doctor?’ Whitney winked. ‘I heard about you two getting hot and heavy in the medicine cabinet. Why didn’t you call me straight away?’
‘What?’ Lauren was appalled. Country towns were like one giant game of Chinese Whispers but she thought her friend might have waited to hear the facts from her. She leaned towards Whitney. ‘It was a storeroom, and we did not get hot and heavy. I told you I’m not interested in Tom that way.’
Liar, screamed her hormones, ovaries and heart in chorus.
‘More’s the pity.’ Whitney looked wistfully towards the café door as if she were bored with this conversation. ‘Maybe I should go see him about my baby issue.’
‘Yes, you should.’ For once she was happy to discuss Whitney’s fertility problems. ‘We were talking about some of the people he knows and he mentioned he has a friend in Perth who specialises in fertility. He could refer you.’
‘Really?’ She was already digging her phone out of her bag. ‘I’ll give the medical centre a call now and make an appointment. Oh, and here’s Ellie.’
Lauren froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention as she heard the door open. Had someone upstairs christened December Torture Lauren Month? As Ellie’s sandals slapped across the floor, Lauren took a deep breath and managed a smile just as a shadow fell over the table.
‘Hi Lauren.’ Ellie tugged her handbag off her shoulder and dumped it on the floor, before pulling out a chair to sit. ‘How are you?’
Just peachy. How was your honeymoon with the love of my life?
‘Oh, you know, busy with work and…um, work. How was your…honeymoon?’ Saying the word was like swallowing slugs.
‘Great thanks.’ Ellie bit her lip and glanced towards Whitney. ‘It’s lovely of you and Whitney to ask me to join you this morning. Any excuse for a piece of Sherry’s carrot cake.’
Dammit, that was her favourite cake too, but now if she ordered it Ellie might think she was copying. The thought felt so high school, but there was something about Ellie that brought out the worst in her. ‘It’s fine,’ Lauren said. ‘I won’t be able to stay long, got to work soon.’
Ellie frowned. ‘I thought Whitney said it was your day off?’
‘Oh, yes, it is.’ Was nothing sacred? ‘I meant housework. Place is a dump.’
‘I feel your pain. And thanks for looking after Granny so well. Flynn and I were horrified when Karina told us where she was. I really wish someone had called us while we were away.’
Was Ellie blaming her for not doing so?
Lauren was about to open her mouth and defend herself when Whitney ended her call. She leaned over the table and hugged Ellie like they were bosom buddies.
‘How are you?’ Whitney asked. ‘I can’t wait to hear all about your honeymoon. Let’s order so you can dish the dirt.’
Ellie laughed nervously. Lauren might have been wrong, but she got the impression Ellie was worried about how talking about Flynn would make her feel. Which would make her more in tune with Lauren’s feelings than Whitney, who was supposedly her best friend. Dismissing this thought because she wasn’t ready to think too kindly about Ellie, she stood and went over to the register to place her order.
She asked for a skinny soy latte but skipped the cake. Although she’d miss her weekly sweet fix, she’d be able to escape sooner if she didn’t have to eat.
‘I’m so pleased you could make it,’ Whitney gushed, smiling at Ellie once they’d all ordered. ‘I’ve been watching Lake Street every night this week waiting for your big finale. Are you sure you can’t give us a hint as to how Stella departs the show?’
Prior to returning to Hope Junction and marrying Flynn, Ellie had been an actress on Australia’s most popular TV soap opera. She’d recently been back to Sydney to film her final episodes. It was top secret as to how her character Stella would exit, but speculation was rife amongst the locals and in all the glossy magazines. Lauren tried to avoid such talk if she could.
‘You know I can’t.’ Ellie looked apologetic. ‘I’m sworn to secrecy.’
‘Oh, we wouldn’t tell anyone, would we, Lauren?’
Although Lauren didn’t feel sorry for Ellie, Whitney was getting on her nerves. ‘Will you just leave her alone?’ she snapped, surprising herself. ‘If she can’t tell, she can’t tell.’
Both Whitney and Ellie looked shocked by her outburst.
‘I was only asking.’ Whitney folded her arms across her chest and glared at Lauren.
‘I’d tell if I could,’ Ellie said, obviously trying to keep the peace, ‘but all will be revealed very soon. In fact, Flynn’s throwing a little party when the last episode screens next Friday night and you’re both invited. It’s kind of a joint Lake Street farewell and Quartermaine Christmas party. I know it’s a busy time of the year, what with harvest and everything, so I’ll understand if it’s not convenient, but—’
Whitney interrupted before Ellie had a chance to finish. ‘Of course we’ll be there. Won’t we, Lauren?’
‘Um…I think I might have to work.’
Whitney frowned. ‘No you don’t. You told me you’re on early shifts all next week, remember? You can bring Tom along.’
‘Oh, that’s a great idea.’ Ellie nodded her head excitedly. ‘We’ve been meaning to have him over to say thanks for looking after Granny. Do you think he’ll come?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘She’s pretending there’s nothing going on between them,’ Whitney said, just as their cakes and coffees arrived.
‘Thanks, Sherry,’ they said in unison.
Lauren lifted her latte to her lips and took a sip, waiting for the caffeine to work its magic. Ellie and Whitney picked up their dessert forks and started in on their cakes.
‘Mmm, this is so good.’ Whitney licked her lips and shoved another forkful into her mouth.
Ellie nodded in agreement. Lauren glanced at her watch, wondering when she could politely take her leave. Unfortunately, before she could do so, Whitney once again asked Ellie for honeymoon gossip. ‘What did you and Flynn get up to?’
Ellie finished her mouthful, her cheeks going bright red at the question. ‘Well…we…um…went to a few wineries. Spent lots of time on the beach. I’ve got some pics on my phone if you want to see.’
Whitney put down her fork. Lauren knew this wasn’t the kind of gossip she meant, but Whitney seemed satisfied with an exclusive ins
ight into their resident celebrity’s honeymoon. It was okay for her. She hadn’t spent years lusting after the groom. Lauren’s heart leapt up into her throat as Ellie positioned her phone on the table so that both of them could see. An idyllic south-west beach popped onto the small screen and two seconds later the next photo appeared. Ellie’s gorgeous smile lit the screen, squished up against Flynn’s equally gorgeous face in what was obviously a selfie. Dammit, you weren’t supposed to look that good in selfies, but both Ellie and Flynn looked like models.
‘This was one evening after we had dinner at Leeuwin Estate,’ Ellie explained. ‘Geez, the food there is simply divine. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.’
Yet she still had the body of a damn supermodel.
If the honeymoon talk and photos weren’t painful enough, Lauren feared she might be physically sick when the interrogation turned to babies.
‘So, are you and Flynn planning on starting a family soon?’ Whitney asked.
She couldn’t take it any longer. Before Ellie could reply, Lauren pushed back her seat, catching her handbag on the chair leg in her haste. ‘Well, thanks for the chat, ladies, but I’ve just remembered something I must do.’ She fumbled to try to release her bag.
The excuse was lame even to Lauren’s ears, but her insides were squirming and she didn’t have the brainpower to come up with anything better.
‘See you later.’ Whitney didn’t seem all that upset by her sudden departure, but Ellie offered her a smile.
‘It was lovely catching up,’ she said. ‘And don’t forget about the party. I hope you and Tom can make it. I’ll get Flynn to give him a call.’
‘Okay, great.’ Lauren faked a smile, willing to say anything to get away from talk about Ellie and Flynn trying for a baby. One baby-obsessed friend was bad enough but if Whitney expected Lauren to become all chummy with Ellie and listen to her tales of trying to conceive as well, she needed her head read. She could just imagine it—both of them conceiving at the same time, sprouting yummy-mummy baby bumps and wanting Lauren to host a double baby shower.
Like that was going to happen!
*
It took him two days but finally, on a break in the surgery, Tom picked up the phone to call his mum. He knew if he left it any longer he’d have Monica pestering him again, and that prospect gave him even more of a headache than the thought of the task itself. Despite this, his heart pounded as he listened to the ringing on the other end of the line.
It was stupid to be nervous about calling the woman who’d given him life, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear the things she might say.
‘Hello? Lewis residence.’ His mum sounded the same as always, but Tom found his voice lodged in his throat. ‘Is anyone there?’ she asked, sounding a little anxious.
‘Mum, it’s me. Tom.’
‘Oh honey.’ She sniffed. ‘I’m so glad you’ve called. We’ve missed you so much. How are you? Is everything okay? We just want you to come home.’
He chuckled at her rush of words. Anna Lewis had always been a talker, but when she was nervous the words flowed like dam gates opening. ‘I’m fine, Mum. I’m working in a small town in Western Australia. A place called Hope Junction. You’d love it. There’s a CWA craft shop and everyone is really friendly.’
‘It sounds lovely, dear, but there are small towns in South Australia, you know. If you wanted to work in the country for a bit, it would have been nice to choose somewhere we could go for a day trip. It’s good for your father to get out…while he still can.’
And there it was. The reason he’d found it so difficult to pick up the phone.
Tom swallowed. ‘How is Dad?’ Monica hadn’t said much the other day, possibly because he hadn’t asked. Yet, however difficult the conversation, he needed to know.
His mum sighed. ‘He’s not too bad, darling. Some days are better than others. He gets a bit down when he remembers he can’t work anymore. The other morning he forgot about his illness and dressed in his suit ready to go into the hospital. He couldn’t find the car keys and got into such a tizz when I told him they were hidden because he’s not supposed to drive.’
‘Shit, Mum.’ Tom’s heart cramped at the thought of his intelligent, capable father losing it.
‘He got all confused and I had to explain his diagnosis all over again. That wasn’t our best day, but other days are relatively normal. I’m trying to get us out and about—do some fun things together.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Tom said and then an awkward silence descended for a few moments. It pained him to hear about his father’s decline and he knew things were only going to get worse. It wouldn’t be long before his condition would take him away from them most of the time. At some point he’d forget simple things such as how to pour a drink for himself, eat an ice-cream and then even walk. The man his mother had fallen in love with and the one Tom considered a friend and mentor as much as a parent would be gone for good, but his shell could remain for quite some time.
If he were a good son, he’d be spending as much time as he could with his dad now, but the thought of returning and watching him deteriorate made him physically ill. Even now his heart began to race, his chest tightened and his hand went numb around the phone. All of them classic symptoms of anxiety disorder, along with the biggie—the urge to escape—which he’d done when he’d left Adelaide with barely an explanation to his loved ones. Cowardly behaviour, which made him despise himself.
‘Tom? Are you still there?’
‘Yeah, Mum. Sorry.’
‘I’m worried about you darling. I know this has been hard on you and I’d do anything to change things, but I can’t. I just wish you’d talk to us and let us help you.’
‘There’s nothing you can do, Mum. I’m fine.’ It might have sounded harsh, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his issues, especially not in the surgery where someone might overhear him. The walls were thin and if there was one thing the people of Hope Junction did well, it was gossip. He didn’t need that.
As if the gods were on his side for once, the phone on his desk buzzed.
‘Look Mum, I’ve gotta go.’
‘Tom, I—’
‘Mum.’ His tone was firm. ‘I’ll call again, but I’m at work.’ He disconnected his mobile as he picked up the surgery phone.
‘Tom, I’ve just had a call from the hospital,’ came Eileen’s flustered voice. ‘We’ll have to cancel this afternoon’s surgery. The ambos are bringing in a couple whose car flipped over on the highway and you’re needed at the hospital pronto.’
Tom pushed back his seat and grabbed his keys, relieved to have something to take his mind off the conversation with his mother. He wasn’t glad there’d been an accident, but he welcomed something less personal to focus on.
He arrived at the hospital just as the ambulances were pulling into the emergency bay.
‘What do we have?’ he asked the first team as he rushed over to them.
‘Car rollover on the highway,’ said one of the female volunteer ambulance officers. ‘We’ve got the male patient, conscious but possible internal injuries. He was driving.’
‘Thanks. Unload and take him in to A&E while I check on the other van.’ He jogged around to the other ambulance and nodded a greeting to the officers.
‘Our patient is unconscious but still breathing,’ one of the volunteers announced as they began to unload the stretcher. ‘Her pulse is weak and there are possible fractures on both legs.’
Tom rushed inside, scrubbed up and gloved while the nurses on duty each helped the volunteers settle the patients. He hadn’t dealt with a car accident since his early years as a registrar in the A&E at Royal Adelaide, but the nurses in Hope Junction dealt with them on a regular basis due to their proximity to the Albany Highway. With their assistance, Tom triaged both patients and arranged for transfers to Royal Perth hospital.
By the time he’d finished up his paperwork and returned to the surgery to see to a co
uple of urgent appointments, the last thing he wanted was to call his mum back and pick up where they’d left off. Reasoning he was in no mood for the conversation she wanted to have, he promised himself he’d call again another day. Baby steps.
Chapter Twelve
After leaving About Coffee Time, Lauren had done everything she could think of to try to release the tension from her body. As a result, her house sparkled more than it had since her parents had left almost two years ago, and by the time Tom arrived home a tantalising aroma was wafting from the kitchen—dinner cooked to perfection. He headed straight for the bathroom, but she hoped the smell of her home cooking would draw him out because she’d made far too much for one and after her excruciating morning with Whitney and Ellie, she was craving the company of someone who wouldn’t want to talk weddings, babies or soap operas.
As she lifted the sweet potato and feta tart out of the oven, she heard him come in behind her. She turned, almost dropping the baking dish onto the floor as her eyes drank him in. His hair was damp and his jawline freshly shaven, indicating he’d just stepped out of the shower. He’d changed out of his reasonably casual work clothes into even more casual attire. Faded jeans hung low on his hips and an ‘I’m The Doctor’ tee clung to his impeccable chest. She swallowed and tightened her grip, thinking how much easier this being friends business would be if he didn’t look so damn delicious.
To his credit, since their encounter in the storeroom and her subsequent confession, he’d made a big effort to wear more around the house. She appreciated his consideration but it was too little, too late. Even if he now wore a shirt in her presence, his overall gorgeousness, not to mention the memory of his abs and biceps, was already imprinted on her mind. The chance of her forgetting all that was about as likely as her tastebuds deciding they no longer liked Diet Coke—i.e. not gonna happen.
‘Hey.’ He smiled as he crossed to the fridge, but it wasn’t his normal vibrant grin. ‘How was your day?’
The Road to Hope Page 11