by Blobel, Iris
She smiled as she took his hand. “That’s quite all right. Grandma told me that you’d lived in England for a while. And that you play soccer.”
“Mum, this is Mark Dee-On,” the little boy said with excitement.
She looked at him questioningly.
“Markus DeLeon. I used to play for Leeds for a while. As it seems—”
“Ahh. James loves soccer. His dad took him to a few games. I know nothing about soccer.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”
He smiled and couldn’t take his eyes off her. And just as he was about to ask about Mrs. Gibson, she said, “Anyway, we’d better get the last little bits out of the truck before I have to return it. It was nice meeting you, Markus.”
“Nice meeting you—”
“Dakota.”
“And nice meeting you, James.”
“Will you show me some tricks one day?”
Markus winked. “Of course I will. Just knock at the door.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t like him to intrude.”
“Nah, not at all. I’d be happy to. I’ve got a little nephew his age.”
She gave him another one of her devastating and contagious smiles. “Thanks.”
Then she took her son by the hand and walked towards the house next door.
Markus watched them and even caught himself staring at her nice behind, all the while wondering about James’ dad.
An hour later, he’d eaten his fish and chips, which had been cold by then, showered, and started a load of washing.
The doorbell rang and with a look at his watch he assumed it to be Sarah. A little surprised by his excitement, he walked to the front door. During the last twenty-four hours he hadn’t been able to think of anybody else but Sarah. He recalled their phone call, what she’d said about Rachel moving in, and how she’d refused his help. But most of the time the words, I’m scared that when you help we’ll inevitably go back to being friends without noticing went back and forth in his head.
Except during the last hour.
The last hour, his head was occupied by one blonde, tall English woman.
He let out a long breath and opened the door.
As soon as he saw Sarah, though, he lifted one eyebrow. “Did you have a rough day or did you think coming here looking like a beaten up poodle would make you less attractive?”
It was obvious, something wasn’t right. She was here and although he wouldn’t class her as overly vain, he knew she liked to look attractive or at least respectable.
Today she looked neither. She wore her old track pants with holes and the Swiss soccer club T-shirt she’d bought years ago to piss him off. Not to mention the state of her uncombed hair or lack of make-up.
Sarah stared at her own feet. “I suppose a bit of both. But hey, poodles look cute in any state, right?”
“I thought you said you’d come straight after work?”
She wasn’t herself when she said, “Something came up.”
Laughing, he stepped back to let her in. “Wanna tell me about the first part that got you so—” He shrugged. “Out of sorts?”
When she finally met his gaze, he noticed her dark, almost black eyes, reflecting all her troubles. He wondered how long she’d be able to hold back her tears. Closing the distance between them, he reached out for her, but Sarah held up her hand.
“No hugs, please.”
He stood still, less because of her request, but because of the nature of it. “Baby?”
Letting out a big sigh, she turned and headed towards his lounge room. “May I have a nice cup of tea, Marky?”
He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on.
The cup of tea had to wait.
He followed her and grabbed her arm to turn her around.
“Okay, I get it that the situation is awkward. I’m a bit tense as well, but you’re behaving like…like—” He shrugged.
When she turned towards him, he saw her wet, grief-stricken face with the first tears on her cheeks. Despite her initial protest, he pulled her into a hug.
He held her close and placed a kiss on her forehead, moving his hand up and down her back.
“The police came over last night and took Rachel to the station,” she mumbled against his chest. “It was awful. All these accusations and lies.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
She shook her head, but didn’t reply.
***
It was good to be held by familiar arms. To feel safe and secure. As much as Sarah wanted to let herself go and have Markus hold her hand through this, she knew better than to fall back into the old routine of him helping her. For once, she wanted to stand on her own two feet. For once, she wanted to get things sorted, fixed, and under control without his input.
But for the moment…for the moment, she simply enjoyed being held.
Old habits were hard to break.
“Babe?”
She looked up and still had no ready answer for him. How could she tell him that after twenty years of treating her like a sister, caring for her, looking after her, she wanted him to let go and let her clean up her own mess.
Or in this case, Rachel’s.
She shrugged instead.
After a long while, he took her hand and led her into the lounge room where they sat on the couch. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close again.
Touching her forehead with his lips, he said quietly, “Baby, I heard you when you said, you’re scared that me helping you might influence any decision about us, but I can do both. I can be there for you on both accounts.”
“What if you can’t?” she whispered.
“We still have twenty years of friendship to fall back on.”
She pondered that for a while. That was exactly what scared her. The idea of failing in a relationship and falling back on their friendship. Was it as easy as that?
“There’d always be cracks in that friendship.”
He said nothing.
“I cannot believe I risked my most valuable possession when I slept with you. It…I…” She stared up at the ceiling and covered her face with her hands. “I know I seduced you…well, more or less, and I still don’t know why.”
“Most valuable possession?”
Turning to meet his gaze, she drew her brows into a frown as if to say d’oh, but replied, “My heart, Marky. I’m talking about my heart.”
At that moment she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, but wasn’t sure how to interpret it. But it worried her. It worried her so much that she’d mentioned her heart, she wondered whether he’d been honest when he told her the whole no regrets thing had been wrong. She tried to ignore it.
“The thing is, when I talked to Oliver, his first response was, about time.”
He chuckled. “Annie said the same, just in different words.”
Silence filled the room.
“You’re not really helping here. You sleep with me, then run, then you have no regrets, yesterday it was all crap, and now?”
“Hello, pot. Meet kettle,” he said with a shrug.
His shrug annoyed her. What had she expected? A reciprocal outburst? A kiss that brought her to her knees?
Then he pulled her closer to him again, his lips hovering over her skin, his breath tickling her ear. “I was honest when I told you about what happened and what I would like to happen, Saz. The honest truth.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “But tell me about Rachel. I promise I won’t interfere, but talking about it might help you for the moment.”
Sarah turned and met his gaze. Suddenly, her whole angst about their friendship seemed irrelevant and if at all possible, she leaned into him even more, enjoying an intimacy she’d missed for the last week. Her problems seemed distant as she listened to his rhythmic breathing.
“I thought seeing Rachel in hospital was scary, but seeing her taken away by the police was about the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
She let out a long sigh. “I thought about
ringing you. I honestly did, but you were still at the beach with Annie and the kids. Calling you would’ve caused chaos and I didn’t want to do that to Annie.” She paused. “Or the kids for that matter. I’m sure they loved the time with their uncle.”
His chuckle sounded so familiar and did something to her which made her feel at ease.
“Once I was at the police station, Oliver came.”
“Oliver?” he asked, his voice full of surprise. “Why hasn’t he told me anything?”
“I begged him not to.”
“He usually ignores everyone’s begging when it comes to those things.”
“I literally begged him, Marky.” When Markus remained silent, she continued. “I have no idea why they had to take her to the station. It was like in a bad movie. But the more we protested, the more the police officers had their back-up.” She shrugged. “Rachel, who was basically a wreck by then, told them she had nothing to hide and went with them.”
She was aware his breathing had become shallow and intermittent.
“The guy who’d beaten her up had been arrested on drug charges a day earlier. The bastard blamed Rachel for everything.” She huffed a breath. “Fortunately, the medical records showed his violence, and I think someone else was found as a witness against him.”
“How is she now?” Markus asked after a long, silent moment.
“It’s been a tough day. She had her ups and downs, but I’d say she’s okay. Oliver’s charm helped a lot. He was a great help.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help,” he whispered against her ear. She was sure, she heard sadness in his voice. Sadness darkened by anger when he added, “Hope this guy rots in hell.”
“Let’s hope the legal system doesn’t let us down.” She took his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “They were very apologetic afterwards, but for Rachel it was too late. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the two hours after we went home. Her emotions went from anxieties to calm. She was all over the place.”
“Where’s she now?”
“I’ve asked Mum to come around for an hour so I can come here.”
“You should’ve—”
She placed a finger on his mouth. “No. I wanted to come. This was important to me as well and they both understood.”
When he took her hand, he kissed the palm, sending shivers through her body. Suddenly she wanted very much to be held and comforted.
A knock at the door startled them both.
Markus let out a frustrated breath.
“That’s okay. I’d better head home anyway.”
“As much as I’d like you to stay, I agree.”
Sarah nodded. They stood, and she followed him to the door and saw his neighbour standing in front of him.
“My granddaughter told me you were home. Here’s a little parcel the postie left with me yesterday. And I’ve got some homemade pumpkin soup for you. Cody can bring it over in a minute.”
Sarah nodded hello to Mrs. Gibson. She loved the old lady. And she loved her homemade cooking. But who was Cody?
“Glad to see you’re all right,” Markus said.
“Oh my, Markus. Why shouldn’t I be?”
Sarah smiled as she noticed his embarrassment when he scratched the back of his neck.
“Your granddaughter moving in.”
She waved her hand as if to say, that’s all. “Dakota’s moved in temporarily. She’s from England, just left her husband and decided to come back to Australia. Her mother was born here, but Tracy left for the U.K. when she was in her mid-twenties.”
The old lady left after a bit more chit chatting, when Markus turned to Sarah.
“Who’s Cody?” he asked.
***
From beneath perfectly arched brows, chocolate brown eyes stared at him.
“Her granddaughter’s son?”
He shook his head. “Nah, his name is James.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Little soccer enthusiast.”
“Who?”
“The son.”
Silence hung in the air, and he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to remind her that she was about to leave. Instead he reminded himself that he was about to kiss her before Mrs. Gibson had knocked at the door.
“What’s in the parcel?”
He’d forgotten about the box in his hand. Instinctively, he checked the address. “The present for Ellie. A small doll for her birthday.”
She placed a hand on his chest. “Ever the doting uncle.”
Stepping closer to her, he asked, “Want to stay just a little bit longer?”
“With pumpkin soup on the menu, how can I refuse?”
He laughed. “All yours. I’ve already had something to eat.”
She leaned against the wall with her shoulder. “So back to Cody.”
It took him a second to follow her train of thought. “Oh. I’m not quite sure about how it all links together, but I met Mrs. Gibson’s granddaughter and her son this afternoon.” His mouth twitched with amusement. “I was a bit worried something had happened to her.” With a shrug, he scratched his neck. “No idea who Cody is.”
Sarah moved away from the wall and stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his chest. “Marky. I’m truly sorry this is all a mess. If you don’t mind, this kettle would like to be pot’s girl. Just give me a week or two to get into a routine with Rachel.”
Everything inside him screamed, Yes Yes Yes. She nibbled on her lower lip, and he knew she was waiting for a reply. Instead, he cupped her face and leaned his forehead against hers. His lips touched hers gently. The erratic pounding of his heart echoed in his ears as a sudden rush of wanting took over. Lost in the softness of her mouth, he almost didn’t hear the doorbell.
“Damn,” he whispered.
She flashed a vague smile in his direction. “Two weeks max,” she whispered.
He nodded and headed towards the door.
His breath hitched when he saw Dakota standing in front of him, holding one of Mrs. Gibson’s cooking pots. And the simple sight of her did something strange to him inside. Sarah’s arm brushed his, when she stepped next to him holding out her hands towards Dakota.
“Oh, is that the pumpkin soup?”
Dakota nodded and then looked back to Markus.
“Marky here was expecting Cody. You must be Mrs. Gibson’s granddaughter.”
Dakota laughed, and Markus forced himself to get hold of the situation again.
“I’m Cody. My family and friends call me that.”
Sarah took the soup.
Markus laughed. “My apologies. I expected a male, not you. Would you like to come in?”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Sarah’s questioning look, but told himself that inviting his new neighbour inside was simply showing good manners.
Dakota shook his head, her eyes avoiding his. And after a quick glance at Sarah, she said, “And thanks, but no thanks. I still want to unpack a few things.”
“Well, we’d better devour this delicious soup,” Sarah said.
Dakota smiled. “Grandma is a wonderful cook. Nice meeting you, Sarah. I’d better get back.”
“Thanks for the soup,” Markus said. “Let me know if you need any help. I’ll be away the next two days, but happy to help next week.”
They said goodbye and as soon as the door was closed, Sarah said, “I’ll take this home, returning the pot tomorrow.” Her eyes focused on him. “Are we good for the next two weeks?”
“Good as gold.”
“Sure?”
Confused, he searched for a hint of where she was going with this. Taking the pot out of her hands and taking it to the kitchen table, he returned, took her hands in his and kissed her deep and hard. Hearing Sarah’s moan, he opened his eyes and looked into her face.
“We’re good as gold,” he repeated.
“Will you be back on Saturday night for Oliver’s celebration?”
“Trying to catch the six o’clock flight out of Sydney.”
The
y stood there for a while until she broke the silence first. “Thanks, Marky.”
He stepped back, let her out of his arms, and watched her take the soup. When they got to the front of the house, he opened the door for her and walked her to her car.
“No luck tomorrow,” she said.
He frowned.
“I suppose things aren’t good as gold, yet.” She placed the soup in the car and turned to him. “I asked you for two weeks. You told me we’re good as gold, yet, you’ve never bothered telling me more about your interview.”
“Baby.” He paused, carefully picking his words. “Mike and I are having a meeting with the TV guys to get all the information I need to make a decision.” Meeting her gaze, he said, “I’d still want to talk to you about it first before I make a decision. You’ve asked for two weeks, perhaps you’ll grant me two days?”
She placed her hand on his chest. “Permission granted.” And with that, she slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and left.
Markus turned and walked towards the door. He noticed light next door and looked over, only to see Dakota standing at the window watching him.
***
Sarah came awake to a low cry in the middle of the night. She rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands and listened. It came from the other bedroom. Searching for the light, she moved to her side before getting up. It was a dark night, with only a faint light by the moon.
The cry became louder, followed by a soft thud. Sarah threw her duvet back, blinked a couple of times to adjust her eyes to the light before rushing to her sister.
Rachel was on the floor, waving her arms wildly in the dark, while trapped in her blanket. With the help of the light from her room shining down the hall, Sarah found the light easily and stepped to her sister.
“Rachel.”
It took her a moment to free her.
“Rachel, honey. Wake up. It’s me, Sarah.”
The sudden stillness indicated that Rachel had woken. She looked dazed, trying to focus and figure out the situation she was in.
“Honey, you had a bad dream.”