by Mandy Magro
Finally, she was free from the confines of a dreary classroom day in and day out and would once again be able to enjoy the great outdoors of Far North Queensland. She just wished she still had her palomino horse, Waylon, so she could go for a gallop beside the swaying cane fields of her uncle Ted’s sugar cane farm like she used to. Maybe she would buy herself a new horse one day, but for now she was still healing, after losing Waylon to a coastal taipan bite five months ago. He had been her buddy since she was seven and his passing had left a gaping hole in her heart.
Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in time to the Dixie Chicks and giggling as she listened to Fi singing the lyrics to ‘Sin Wagon’ way out of tune, Summer let her mind wander over the past couple of years at uni. It hadn’t all been bad, but she just wasn’t one to sit around indoors all day. Her free-thinking mind couldn’t cope with the never-ending assignments and the constant note taking, and instead she’d find herself zoning out in class while doodling artwork on her textbooks. The New Age way of life was where her passions lie and as she’d been taking yoga lessons with the remarkable Leslie Ahern since the age of thirteen, she could securely say she was damn good at it, her Indian guru’s confidence in her abilities further proof of that. But, as with most things she’d put her hand to in life, she’d passed her Bachelor of Business with flying colours, much to Fiona’s and her parents’ astonishment, and she was now ready to move onto the next chapter – her yoga studio.
Nearing the outskirts of Edens Edge, Fiona reached out and turned the stereo down just enough to be able to talk without yelling. ‘So, have your mum and dad organised a get-together with Marcus and his family yet? He’ll be home from Sydney now, won’t he, seeing as he’s finished his law degree?’ Summer quickly gave Fiona a don’t-go-there look but Fiona continued on regardless, obviously enjoying baiting her. ‘I mean, considering he’s the man you are going to marry don’t you reckon you should really spend some more quality time with him before you tie the knot, Sums?’
Summer lifted her sunnies, squinting as she glanced warningly to her left. ‘Ha ha, very funny, Toots! I’d really rather forget about the quality time I spent with Marcus.’ She looked back at the road, gently steering the Mini around a tight bend. ‘No, they haven’t planned anything – well, not that I know of anyway, but that’s not to say they haven’t given up on the notion of Marcus and I living happily ever after. I mean, for God’s sake, we were only together two months, and that was when we were seventeen. My parents need to get over it.’
Fiona smirked. ‘Well you’re lucky you’re not living in India because your father would have arranged the marriage the minute you were legal to wed.’
‘Tell me about it! I like Marcus, I really do – as a mate. He and I are just not compatible when it comes to being in a romantic relationship … I found that out when I had sex with him. It just felt so – how to put it – awkward.’ Summer screwed her face up as she recalled the experience and Fiona laughed at her expression. ‘I mean, we grew up together so he kind of feels more like family to me than boyfriend material. And just because he’s on his way to becoming a hotshot lawyer at his father’s law firm at Edens Edge, and he’s Dad’s best mate’s son, doesn’t mean I’m going to fall madly in love with him. Anyway, I don’t go for clean-shaven men in suits; I like a man who looks a little rough around the edges, and who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.’ Summer grinned. ‘And that’s certainly not Marcus – he panics when a hair’s out of place!’
Fiona nodded, smirking. ‘So true! I remember him having a massive freak out because he couldn’t find his hair gel once … What a tool!’ She swivelled to face Summer, who was firmly focussed on the winding road. ‘I checked Marcus out on Facebook the other day and oh … my … God, have you seen him lately, Sums? Talk about hot stuff! He’s blossomed from a pimply teenager into a hunky spunk – with abs to die for I might add. And in all his photos he’s dressed to impress.’
‘I know what he looks like, Fi. I’m friends with him on Facebook, too, remember? And from what I can gather with the posts he puts up, he’s turned into a bit of a playboy. He’s always gloating about the women he’s involved with and I swear there’s a different one each week. He doesn’t seem to be able to commit to any of them.’ Summer wrinkled her nose. ‘I find men like that extremely unattractive.’
Fiona placed her feet on the dashboard, readjusted her boobs in her fluorescent pink tank top and then manoeuvred her seat back; the sunshine filling the open-top Mini was perfect for tanning. ‘Well, seeing he’s easy on the eye, you could always just have a bit of fun with him for the holidays, you know, enjoy a summer romance. Get it? A … Summer … romance … hehe!’
Summer rolled her eyes skywards. ‘Stop hassling me to have sex with him again, toots! Next time I want sex to be special, mind-blowing, and not some fling with a guy I’ll never be able to truly love, especially one who obviously loves himself as much as Marcus does. His pretty-boy ways are just too overboard for me; he’d drive me nuts! And if I was crazy enough to just have a bit of fun with him, knowing my luck, I’d fall pregnant and I’d be stuck with him for life. Fuck that, it’d be like a bloody jail sentence!’
Fiona’s glossy red lips dropped open, leaving her looking like one of those clowns you pop ping pong balls into at a sideshow alley. ‘Oh my God, Sums, there are two little inventions that can stop you falling pregnant. They’re called …’ Fiona made air quotes, ‘… “condoms” and “the Pill”.’
‘Geez, I didn’t come down with the last bloody shower! I just don’t reckon I need to be on the Pill when I’m not one for sleeping around. And sorry I’m a little old fashioned when it comes to sex.’ Summer smirked brazenly. ‘I may not act on them but I have plenty of wild fantasies, I’ll have you know.’
Fiona leant forwards, bouncing in her seat while clasping her hands excitedly. ‘Really? Like what, Sums? Do tell!’
Ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks, Summer decided to humour her mate. ‘Like making slow, passionate, all-consuming love on the beach while the waves crash over me, or having crazy, ravenous sex on the kitchen bench with my clothes still half on, or ravishing a sexy man in a steaming hot shower, it’s just that I have a little thing called …’ Summer copied Fiona’s gesture with her left hand. ‘… “self-control”.’
Fiona slapped Summer on the arm. ‘Oi, you cheeky bugger! Okay, okay, I won’t say another word about sex! Subject closed!’ Fiona pouted and then zipped her lips.
Summer grinned and turned the stereo up. ‘Good, ’bout time my friend!’
The two girls remained in a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, enjoying the country tunes floating from the stereo while taking in the splendid rural landscape with the gentle turquoise ocean and cloudless cobalt sky.
Heading through the centre of Edens Edge, the seaside now out of sight, Summer admired the quaintness of the little tourist town she and Fiona had called home all their lives, her eyes momentarily drifting to the beauty of the Hideaway Mountain ranges, where her parents’ home was. Charming cafés, classy restaurants and hotels, casual bars, quirky shops and ice-cream parlours lined the streets. There were no fast-food chains here – the locals refused to allow the giant companies in, and her father backed the locals’ wishes fervently. She was proud of his long career as mayor of such a beautiful place, though it kept him more out of her life than in it. On the footpaths, residents and tourists casually strolled, the atmosphere of the town one of leisureliness. No one was in a hurry here, the balmy weather and tranquil surrounds heightening the feeling of forever being on a tropical holiday. Summer felt extremely fortunate to be living in such a magnificent place.
Nearing the edge of town, she longingly glanced up a cobblestone side street, the one that housed the closed yoga studio right next door to Phillip’s trendy café, and allowed herself a few private moments to fantasise about re-opening it. Not only would it be a great place for the locals, but it would also be popular with the tourists. Excitement
bubbled in her belly; she was going to make her dream come true. She just had to, no ifs, buts or maybes about it.
Leaving town, Summer unhurriedly drove past a few tropical fruit and horse agistment farms, imagining what it would be like to be coming home to one of the sprawling properties that bordered the ocean, where families happily worked together and most likely had time to sit down at the end of the day to enjoy a meal and have a catch up. It would be absolute heaven. Her parents’ elaborate beach house was not something to be scoffed at and she appreciated how hard her dad had worked to own it along with their family home in the mountains, but Summer would have given it all up in an instant to have had more quality time with her dad as she was growing up, and even now. Money and lavishness had never meant that much to her; she preferred the simple things in life, like time with her family, friends and pets.
Eventually the horse-dotted paddocks gave way to extravagant beachside homes with equally impeccable gardens and the aptly named Ocean Song Beach Retreat finally came into view. Sitting at the top of Edens View Crescent, the sandstone mansion commanded undivided attention, the Miltons’ trilevel, eight-bedroom, four-bathroom holiday home a picture of complete opulence. It had unobstructed ocean views from sprawling balconies that had been tastefully decorated with designer outdoor living furniture. And the two acres of manicured gardens surrounding the house were striking, too, thanks to their full-time gardener, Boris. The tropical gardens were filled with Birds of Paradise, purple and red flowering ginger plants, multicoloured hibiscus, bromeliads and many different varieties of lush ferns. The interior of the mansion matched the grandeur of the exterior, with 1300 square metres of space, a gourmet kitchen overlooking the ocean, three living rooms and a big-screen theatre room, all with marble floors. Out the back, facing the jaw-dropping aqua ocean, was an infinity pool surrounded by comfortable sunloungers, net-draped day beds and a fully stocked bar. A short stroll brought you to a private jetty and the golden shores of Majestic Beach.
Pulling up at the security-monitored electric gates, the girls glanced at each other and grinned. Summer leant out of the Mini and punched in the security code. The motors whirred to life and the two massive wrought iron-and-timber gates opened inwards, revealing a long, lipstick palm–lined driveway.
Pulling up under the portico, the girls piled out of the Mini and climbed up the steps. Summer fumbled through her handbag for the keys, but startled as the front door flew open and Fonzie came scuttling out like a low-flying missile, his little mini dachshund legs going like the clappers. Her joy at seeing her dog was overcome, though, when her eyes came to rest on the tall silhouette standing in the doorway, the muscular figure wearing only board shorts, his arms wide as he pulled her into a tight hug.
‘Oh my God, Summer, it’s wonderful to see you again, babe! You’re looking great, as always.’
Summer found it hard to hide her shock, and her eyes widened as her handbag slipped from her trembling fingers, the contents spilling as she hesitantly hugged the immaculately groomed guy back. ‘Marcus, um, hi. Wh— what are you doing here?’ She glanced sideways at Fiona, who had an equally shocked look on her face.
After hugging her tightly while saying a quick g’day to Fiona, Marcus pulled back, holding Summer’s gaze with his big brown eyes. ‘Well, that’s no way to welcome me, babe! Your parents told me I was welcome to stay here for the summer holidays, said it would be a big surprise for you. Apparently our families are spending Christmas Day here, together. Just like the good old times! Great, huh?’ He paused, hands on hips, sucking in a breath as he waited for her response.
Summer was still too shocked to give him one, instead nodding and then shaking her head a little from side to side as she let all the information sink in. Marcus? Here? For the entire summer holidays? Her mum and dad had some explaining to do.
Shrugging, Marcus let his gaze dart up and down her, before meeting her eyes once again. It irked Summer but she bit her tongue, and tugged at her top discreetly while wishing she could pull it all the way up to her neckline.
‘Anyway, babe, I jumped at the offer.’ Marcus wrinkled up his nose, his perfectly shaped eyebrows almost meeting in the middle as he frowned. ‘I could be wrong but it sounds like you don’t want me to be here.’ He chuckled uncomfortably, his eyes searching Summer’s for an answer.
Summer quickly regained her composure, silently reprimanding herself for seeming rude, not wanting Marcus to feel unwelcome. This was her parents’ home, to do with as they wanted, and no way was she going to hurt Marcus’s feelings just because she’d been taken unawares. Although she wasn’t over the moon that he was going to be here for the entire holiday, she certainly wasn’t going to let him know that. It was a big house so they didn’t have to be living under each other’s feet the whole time.
‘Oh no, don’t be silly, I’m just surprised, that’s all.’ She kissed him on the cheek, his aftershave a little overwhelming. ‘It’s great to see you, Marcus.’ She pointed through the door, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way he was staring at her. ‘Now, let us girls go and unpack and then we can all hit the pool and chillax, hey?’
Marcus grinned from ear to ear, his pearly white teeth perfectly accentuating his tanned skin. ‘Sounds like a plan to me, babe! My mate who’s staying here with me is out in the pool already. And after that, we can hit the ocean for an afternoon cruise. Dad’s given me the keys to his yacht.’
‘Oh, you have a mate here too, that’s just great.’ Summer smiled around gritted teeth, at the same time unable to stop herself from admiring Marcus’s striking face. Fiona was right, Marcus had turned into one handsome bloke and having him standing in front of her, in the flesh, made it all the more obvious. Not that that was going to change the way she felt about him. He was just a friend, end of story. And she would make every effort to prove that, to Fiona and her parents.
CHAPTER
3
The deep whop whop of chopper blades slicing through the air pulled Dean’s anxious gaze from Tommy to the black smoke-filled sky. Covering Tommy as best he could with his sleeping bag, Dean turned his back as the US Army medivac Black Hawk touched down, the force of the sand and grit making him feel he was being sandblasted. He stole a sideways glance at Rebel, who lay unmoving on the ground, badly disfigured, and felt his heart break even more. He choked back a sob, needing to remain strong for Tommy right now, his emotions in absolute turmoil. What if that had been Indy lying there, dead? And how was Tommy going to cope with losing his cherished dog, if he survived himself?
Tommy murmured something through a morphine haze and Dean clasped the digger’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry, mate. You just hang in there, Tommy, you hear me? Hang in there. You’ll be at the hospital soon, okay, buddy?’
The downward force from the rotating chopper blades made it almost impossible to hear, let alone think. Dean pushed back tears and swallowed down the bile threatening to rise up his throat as two medics in tan-coloured flight suits and bulbous green helmets ran from the chopper to load Tommy onto a stretcher. Two other diggers helped the medics lift the stretcher and Dean ran alongside carrying the IV bag that was attached to Tommy’s arm. His mate looked deathly pale and Dean was terrified he wasn’t going to make it. Shrapnel had showered almost every inch of Tommy’s exposed skin and blood oozed from a deep wound to his head. Miraculously, he still had all his limbs, although his arms were badly burnt and a four-inch piece of metal jutted out of his right calf muscle; the patrol medic had deemed it too dangerous to try to remove the shrapnel in the field and had instead wrapped his leg in bulky wound dressings.
Dean fought to stay positive and gave Tommy the thumbs up, his lips quivering as he tried to smile. ‘Get a phone number off one of the nurses for me, mate,’ he yelled above the noise.
Less then a minute after the helicopter had landed, Tommy and Rebel’s lifeless form were lifted out of the hellhole and gone. Sweating like a pig and plastered with dirt and blood, Dean finally gave into his emotions and slum
ped to his knees, his strength seeping from him as he hung his head and prayed with everything he had for his best mate to survive.
Two days after Tommy had been flown out to the US military hospital in Landstuhl, Germany, Dean was on foot patrol, his team going from compound to compound, making sure the Taliban hadn’t filtered back into the village and that the girls’ school the other Australian Army engineers had refurbished hadn’t been forced to shut down by the insurgents. He’d had word that Tommy had a good chance of pulling through, although he was still balancing dangerously on the edge; the extensive wounds he’d sustained taking a toll on the normally robust bloke. The hospital has placed Tommy in an induced coma, wanting to give his body time to heal and he was going to be flown back to Australia once his condition was stabilised. Dean hoped his buddy would be back home on Aussie soil while he was there on leave, but he doubted it – Tommy’s condition was still considered critical and there was no way in hell he’d by flying anywhere.
Whistling softly as he strolled, Dean tried to push his nagging fears to the back of his mind. He couldn’t fathom losing his best mate and having to witness the agonising heartache it would cause Tommy’s wife and children. And like his fellow diggers, Tommy’s accident had affected him, hard, and filled him with unanswerable questions. Was this going to be his last day alive? Was this meal going to be his last? Would this be the last time he cleaned his teeth? What would it feel like, to be blown up by a bomb? How would his family cope if he died? Dean shook his head, knowing he had to pull it together and stand strong. Afghanistan was no place for cowards, although he believed the Taliban were cowards, the mongrels planting IEDs left, right and centre, and not caring if they killed or maimed a child. And where were the Taliban when a soldier was killed or mutilated? Nowhere to be seen! Why couldn’t the bastards just stand up and fight like real men!