by Hill, Joanne
“How come?”
“I won’t need it for a few days and I really appreciate you doing this for me. Not a lot of—” She hesitated, about to say ‘boyfriend’. Of course he was her boyfriend. She said instead, “People would do that.”
He watched her strangely and said, “Yeah, that’d be great. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No. Me and Harry can get a lift home with Ethan.”
Barry shuddered. “He gives me the creeps.”
“He’s—” She exhaled. “He’s okay.”
Silence sat between them but it was nowhere near the silence that had sat between her and Ethan.
Confusion wrenched at her. And guilt. Barry didn’t deserve this.
“Anyway,” she said after a while, “It’s just all a bit crazy with Robyn and Jack being away, and Harry being sick as well, and Ruby’s missing Robyn a lot and is having tantrums.”
“Yeah. Kids, eh?” Barry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t keen on kids. He’d told her, before their first date, which hadn’t been a date so much as sharing a soy milk shake, that he never wanted to be a father, and he’d been relieved when she’d confided her daughter was sixteen. Some guys would have considered that a reason not to date. Barry saw it as a reason to date, because she’d got the kids thing out of the way.
Was that what Barry saw in her? That she had no need to settle down and have a family because she’d done all that, and Barry considered himself safe from hormones and broodiness and life-long commitment?
“I guess I better go.” Barry started the car, and she checked the fuel gauge but there was half a tank still there.
“Why don’t I meet you in town on Sunday, at the club?” she suggested. “You hang on to the car until then and I can drop you home after.” Her foot trod on a burger wrapper, and there was the smell of damp upholstery around them. It wasn’t a great car, but it was mechanically sound. For now.
She reached over and kissed him on the cheek.
What did he see in her, she wondered, as she pulled back. What was it about her that Barry liked?
“I’ll text,” he said. As she pushed open the door, he added, “Hey, do you want me to drop you off in Jack Fletcher’s driveway?”
“No. It’s only a few minutes. I’ll walk. It’ll give the pills time to kick in.”
“Okay. Later, babe.”
She stood on the footpath as he did a U-turn in the cul-de-sac, and watched until he was back out on the main road, heading towards the motorway in her car. Then she shrugged her hands into the jacket pocket and walked thoughtfully back down the road.
She and Barry…it was never going to be anything more than what it was, and she was happy with that. They saw the odd movie together, ate out at vegan restaurants, championed the same causes. She was truly happy with that, with a life made up of Harry, friends and freedom.
But was that fair on him? She knew there was a new barista at Wise Weta who had a crush on him. Sage had caught the girl glaring at her one minute, and gazing adoringly at Barry the next.
Barry was oblivious, but maybe he should be with someone nearer his own age.
She reached the side gate to Jack’s house, punched in the security code and walked through. When the gate had shut, she walked stealthily back around to the laundry. Outside, she listened carefully. There was no sound. It was perfect.
Sleep. Oh, glorious, luscious sleep.
She let herself in, re-activated the alarm, and tiptoed through the laundry and along the corridor.
At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped dead still. The TV was still on, and by the sound of it, the cricket was still going. She crept upstairs, debated whether to check on the children, and decided against it. If she was asleep – like she was supposed to be – she wouldn’t be checking on them. The children were fine.
She went up the flight to Jack and Robyn’s room and as she walked along, she noticed the bedroom door was open.
Suspicion clawed away at her, and she stopped abruptly. She’d closed the door. Hadn’t she? Yes. She had. She’d intentionally closed the door so if Ethan happened to come up the stairs, he wouldn’t look in and see an empty bed.
She quickly stepped inside, and stopped in a heartbeat.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at her, and…she did a double take. Ruby? Poor Ruby lay stretched out on the floor.
Was she dead? Dread ripped violently through her, shocking her so much she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
“Well, look who’s here, Ruby,” Ethan announced menacingly. He got to his feet. “It’s your favourite person. Your favourite person in the whole wide world. It’s your Auntie Sage.”
Ruby got to her knees and turned around to look. She gave a sob. Her face was red, her eyes wet, and her cheeks tear-stained. She began to cry.
“What have you done to her?” Sage demanded as Ruby ran over and threw herself at her, almost knocking her over.
Ruby sobbed harder and Sage got to her knees and pulled her close, all her maternal instincts flooding through her.
The floor creaked and Ethan stood in front of them. Sage looked at his jean-clad legs, up those legs to his thighs, up those thighs to where his hands were placed on either side of those lean hips, and further up until her gaze stopped at his face.
“Where,” he said with threatening calm, “the hell have you been?”
CHAPTER TEN
Ethan was angry. He had not felt this angry in a long time, and yet Sage appeared calm. That was nice of her. She still knelt on the floor, consoling Ruby, who had resumed her sobbing all over again.
Ruby Fletcher-Taylor was going to be the death of him.
He quickly retracted the thought, because it hadn’t been her fault. She’d appeared to have woken in the middle of a nightmare, and he knew about nightmares. He’d lived through enough of them, and lived through nightmares that hadn’t been his own.
Ruby, though, had had a nightmare about monsters. So waking in the dark to find him in her room, checking on her? No wonder she’d been terrified of him, just like Sage had said. But considering Sage had vanished off the face of the earth, he’d had little choice.
He’d carried the sobbing girl to Sage’s room where, he assumed, as he’d knocked on the door, she had her headphones on and was writing angry letters to Members of Parliament, because she clearly hadn’t heard Ruby’s crying, and she hadn’t heard him knock at the door either.
“I’m opening the door,” he’d called out, in case she was in the middle of naked yoga.
She hadn’t even been there.
Ruby had thrown herself on the floor, sobbing hysterically. After about five minutes she’d stopped the bawling and just lain there, stretched out like a starfish, giving an occasional sob.
Now Sage said smoothly, over Ruby’s head, “I just stepped outside.”
Guilt, the briefest look of guilt, flashed across her face.
Had she gone out for a cigarette? He sniffed the air but could detect no hint of smoke.
She added, “I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I wasn’t gone long.”
“You went outside at this hour of the morning?”
Sage got to her feet, and Ruby followed. She led Ruby by the hand over to the bed.
“Mummy’s bed,” Ruby cried as she threw herself on it, and climbed under the covers. She glared at Ethan.
“Ruby can stay here with me,” Sage said. “Do you want to stay here in your mum’s bed with me, Rubes?”
She nodded and glared some more at Ethan. “Is he going away?”
“Yes, he is. That man is going downstairs to watch the cricket.”
Sage looked drowsy, Ethan realized. Sage and Ruby both did, but Sage looked decidedly sleepy.
“I thought you were going to be awake all night?” he commented.
She yawned. “I’m tired. I’ll go to sleep now.”
“You changed your tune.”
She shrugged. “I’m just really tired now. I’ll be out of it for a while. I sleep h
eavily. Like Harry.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said.
She frowned. “What?”
He pushed the image of her sleeping away, although it was not easy, given the feelings it evoked.
He cleared his throat and attempted to act normal. “The cricket finishes around six. Mrs P’s coming over. I’ll be asleep so I’ll leave the children with you.”
Her eyes suddenly flashed and opened wider. “What?”
He frowned. What had not been clear about that statement? “What?” he repeated, confused.
She looked disorientated. Even panicked. “What you just said. You want me to look after the children?”
For a so-called doctor, she could be incredibly odd at times. “Sage, that’s the plan. I stayed up to watch the cricket.”
“But—” Her eyes were wide in a drowsy way. “But I’m—”
“You’re what?”
“But I just—”
He shook his head. “You’re not making any sense. Are you alright?”
She cleared her throat. “Of course.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her, but then she looked like any moment she’d be asleep. He walked over to the door. Ruby had already closed her eyes, and if she wasn’t asleep, she was only seconds away. He glanced back at a strange-looking Sage. That panicked look was still there, and he hesitated. “Is there something wrong?”
“No.” She said it with a total lack of conviction. She smiled, but it looked like she’d plastered it on her face. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”
He paused. “I have never met a more confusing woman in my life.”
“I’m just going to sleep now then.”
“You better set your alarm. This shift thing we’ve got going is only going to work if you wake up. I can wake you up of course. But you’d prefer to set your alarm, I’m sure.”
“What shift?”
Had she listened to anything he’d just said? “You look after the kids in the morning. I’ll be awake around two.”
“Of course.” She smiled, and again it looked forced as she turned to the now sleeping Ruby and smoothed down the covers.
He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, was about to ask if she really was okay for the third time, but decided against it. She was fine.
And he had a pie to nuke in the microwave.
He left.
The second he’d gone, Sage rushed to the bathroom, stared down into the toilet bowl, and debated whether to throw up.
That stupid sleeping pill. What had she been thinking? She was compromised. She was compromising the safety of the children. She was the worst friend ever and a completely incompetent childminder.
She buried her head in her hands on a groan. She was a childcare educator who had taken drugs while looking after children.
Not so judgmental about people now, are you, Lockwood?
Slowly, she got down onto her knees, pulled up the seat, and bent over the toilet bowl.
She gave a sob.
She had never done this in her life. When she vomited, she vomited, and the occasions were rare – because she’d eaten bad food, or too much food, and a few times when she’d drunk too much. She never had to make herself do it.
She gave another sob, and closed her eyes. Please don’t let this be too gross.
Slowly, she put two fingers halfway in her mouth, then stopped.
She did not want to do this. Teenagers did this, not supposedly mature women, but what choice did she have? She screwed up her face and pushed her fingers down further until she gagged, then hastily withdrew.
She got to her feet. It was too late anyway. The sleeping pill was well and truly working, and she was tired, and it was probably too late.
She went to the basin, brushed her teeth in slow motion, and switched off the lights. Then she took off her jacket, and climbed into bed.
Oh, the luxury.
Yes, the sleep.
She reached out to pat Ruby, who was now sleeping soundly.
Ethan McGraw annoyed her so much.
She needed this sleep. Needed to stop thinking about him and analyzing him and, even worse, analyzing herself.
She turned, hugged the pillow and closed her eyes.
Ethan had fallen asleep on the couch around four, when the Kiwis had all been bowled out. He woke up about five, and then again an hour later as he heard Mrs Parker come in the front door.
He was sluggish and tired. Mentally drained.
He struggled up, and staggered out to the kitchen. Mrs Parker was setting up her tablet on the breakfast bar, and the kettle was on.
“I heard the English are batting.” She looked him and up down, then began tapping on her keyboard.
“It’s tragic. I’m going to hit the hay.”
“Any of those kids awake?” She didn’t look up.
“I don’t think so. Sage will be soon, though.” He frowned. Sage. That’s right. That carry-on in the morning. That woman was certifiable.
Mrs P nodded. “I’ll make the pancakes when they’re up. What have you got planned for the day?”
Nothing. He had nothing planned beyond going to bed and waking up around two in the afternoon.
“Just your general babysitting duties,” he said vaguely. “Robyn and Jack are back this evening. I’ll hang around ’til they get back, then head home.”
Mrs Parker jerked her thumb in the direction of the upstairs, where Sage was sleeping. “What about her?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Ask her when she comes down. It should be soon. She’s on for six.”
Mrs Parker nodded. “I’ll see you at two, then.”
She left the tablet and began to spoon tealeaves into the teapot. Ethan hesitated.
She looked up at him and arched her eyebrows. “You got a question?”
“No. More of a comment.” He cleared his throat. It still felt like sand was sitting there. “I just wanted to tell you, thank you. For being here. We—Sage and I—we appreciate it.”
She poured boiling water over the tealeaves. “It’s what I do. Jack Fletcher is a damned fine boss and I wouldn’t want to work for anyone else. I’ll save you some pancakes.”
He put his hand on his stomach. “That would be nice.” For a moment he had a memory of Sage placing her hand on his chest. For a moment he’d thought she was going to lean into him but she hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and this was all so confusing and he did not like confusing. He liked clarity. He liked black and white. None of this grey. The grey was killing him.
“Thanks Mrs P,” he said. “If Jack ever fires you, you can come and work for me. No references required.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’d give it some consideration. Although not sure what she” – she jerked her hand in Sage’s direction again, a grin on her face – “would have to say about that.”
“She’d have nothing to say,” he said, as Mrs Parker took full cream milk from the fridge.
He was about to add that Sage had no say in his life period, but stopped short. There was no point. No point.
He went through to the guest suite, and when he finished in the bathroom, lay on the bed, and looked at his phone. Sage would be getting up soon. A good job they were ships in the night.
Bloody good job.
And he closed his eyes.
Ethan woke up to the feeling of something—someone—gripping his shoulder. He half-opened one eye, and saw a shady figure standing to the side of the bed. He waited a moment for it to clear and realized it was Harry.
“Mum’s not waking up,” she said.
He closed his eye again, and tried to get his bearings. He was at Jack’s house. The Kiwis had been bowled out. Harriet was standing by his bed.
He muttered, “What did you say?” Something about Sage, he thought.
“It’s Mum. She hasn’t woken up.”
Ethan opened his eyes fully and focused on Harry. His head was thick. Groggy. Much as he liked Harry, he wished she’d go away. He ignored the guilt and sa
id, reluctantly, “What do you mean, not waking up?”
“She’s not waking up. I went in there and tried to wake her up, but she seems really asleep.”
Out the corner of his eye he saw Ruby standing behind Harry. A distance away, he noticed.
That’s right. The monster.
So he wasn’t that groggy, despite his body aching with tiredness. He glanced down and realized he was lying on top of the covers, still fully dressed. “Is Sage breathing?”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“That’s always a good sign. What time is it?”
“It’s after eight.”
Two hours? He’d been asleep only two hours? He tried to clear his thoughts. “You said that Sage isn’t up?”
Harry nodded.
“Are you worried?”
She shrugged. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
If Sage wasn’t looking after Ruby and co, then who was? Surely not Harry. She’d been out of it yesterday.
“Is Mrs P still here?” he asked hopefully.
“She’s making pancakes.”
The thought of food made him feel ill, but at least there was an adult in the house.
“Look, Harry, I’m meant to sleep until two. Sage is meant to be looking after the children.”
Ruby shuffled closer to Harriet.
He sighed. The sooner Sage was up, the better. He swung his legs around until his feet were flat on the rug, and stood up.
Ruby pressed herself into Harriet’s thighs.
He blinked to get his vision and stretched his arms. It did nothing to alleviate the exhaustion. Caused by beer and junk food, but that had been the plan. Eat, drink, watch the cricket and sleep it off. He wasn’t meant to be awake this early. There was a reason he had never lived with anyone, beyond his ex-wife, and he had no desire to.
“I’ll go and wake your mother,” he said. “But you’re coming with me in case she accuses me of—” He glanced at Ruby who was looking suspiciously at him. He smiled at her. The suspicion increased. How did a five-year-old manage to look suspicious?
“It’s just safer with you there,” he said. “Give me a sec.”
He went through to the bathroom, stared at his reflection and swore. He looked pathetic. Not that it mattered. Because in five minutes’ time, so help him, he was going to be back in that bed and he was going to be asleep. He splashed cold water on his face, dried his face on a towel, and walked back out to the room.