A Miracle for His Secret Son

by Barbara Hannay

  ‘Well, this looks almost as good as new,’ she said, holding up the mended antlers. ‘But I suppose I’d better ring Maria and tell her you can’t sing tonight. If we don’t go to the carols, what would you like to do instead? We could go and see if the turtles have started making their nests.’

  To her surprise, Nick didn’t leap to accept her offer. Frowning glumly, he fiddled with the sticky tape dispenser. ‘I s’pose I’d be letting the choir down if I stayed away.’

  ‘Well…yes…I guess,’ Freya echoed, surprised.

  She waited, one curious eyebrow raised, but, as the seconds ticked on, her son didn’t seem ready to explain his change of heart. ‘We’d better get going then,’ she said eventually. ‘If you want to sing, you can’t be late.’

  Had she imagined it or had Nick’s eyes betrayed a flash of excitement, even though he let out a theatrical sigh as he picked up the antlers and headed for the door?

  Outside, a beautiful summer’s twilight lingered and the beach was bathed in a soft mauve half-light. The sting had gone out of the day and a sweet breeze blew in from the ocean. Sugar Bay’s families were making themselves comfortable on the grassy parkland at the edge of the sand, spreading picnic rugs and cushions.

  Poppy was there, helping to hand out candles in cardboard holders. A stage was set at one end of the long lawn and children, wearing antlers and Santa caps, were lining up beside it.

  ‘Off you go,’ Freya told Nick and he dashed to join them, one hand holding the antlers in place as he ran.

  Freya tossed a cushion onto the grass and flopped down onto it. She knew lots of people here, of course, and normally she’d be kept busy chatting and catching up on news, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood to be social. She sat hugging her legs, with her chin propped on her knees, watching Nick in the distance as he joined the choir and exchanged shy greetings with a slim, very pretty girl with long dark hair.

  Well, well, she thought. Is Milla Matheson the reason Nick decided to come here after all?

  Her little boy was growing up.

  She’d never felt more alone.

  Damn you, Gus.

  The light was fading swiftly. Glowing dots of candlelight appeared, dancing in the warm purple night like fireflies. Children ran on the grass waving coloured fluoro glow-sticks and their parents called to them to come and sit quietly, while the junior lifesavers’ choir filed up makeshift steps and onto the stage.

  Close by, the sea kept up its regular constant rhythm. Thump, dump, swish…

  Everyone looked so happy, but behind Freya’s eyelids hot tears gathered and her throat felt raw and painful. She was shaking, in danger of falling apart, and she knew she’d be a mess the minute the children started to sing. She always felt emotional when she saw them trying so hard to please their watching families. Tonight she was a dam about to burst.

  She hugged her knees tighter and kept her eyes fixed on Nick in the back row of the choir, noticed that the mended antler prong was beginning to droop.

  He looks so much like Gus, she thought with a pang, and then she swiftly cancelled that thought. I’m so lucky he’s well. I have no reason to be unhappy.

  But she had every reason to be angry.

  Maria Carter, the choir’s conductor, came onto the stage wearing a red and white polka dot sundress that showed off her tan. She tapped the microphone and smiled out at the crowd. Any minute now the singing would start. Freya hugged her knees more tightly than ever and kept her eyes on Nick.

  Traditionally, he sent Freya a smile just before the singing started, but tonight his eyes were straying to the dark-haired girl in the row in front of him, and then out over the crowd.

  Don’t, Nick. Don’t keep looking for Gus. You’ll only break your heart. And mine.

  Maria, the conductor, lifted her baton and Nick’s face broke into a huge grin.

  Concentrate, Nick.

  The choir burst into an Aussie version of Jingle Bells, but Nick wasn’t singing about dashing through the bush. He wasn’t singing at all. He was grinning and waving to someone at the back of the crowd.

  Freya stopped feeling weepy and began to feel embarrassed instead. Since when had her son developed behaviour problems? She turned around to see what had distracted him but it was so dark now, it was hard to see what had caught his attention.

  And then her breathing snagged…

  Poppy, clearly visible beneath a lamp post, was at the back of the crowd. There was no mistaking her silver hair and green kaftan. Beside her stood a tall, dark, manly figure… Gus.

  Freya’s heart slammed against the wall of her chest.

  Poppy was pointing in Freya’s direction and Gus was listening carefully. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes from the lamp post’s glare as he peered at the crowd, then he nodded. Next minute, he was moving, weaving his way through the crowd.

  Freya tried to stand but her legs were like water. Her heart thudded madly as she watched the gleam of Gus’s white shirt as he moved through the darkness and dancing candlelight.

  No wonder Nick was smiling and forgetting to sing. Freya looked down at her old jeans and T-shirt and thought wistfully of her hot new outfits languishing at home.

  This time when she tried to stand she was successful. She waved and Gus waved back, and she caught the white flash of his teeth as he smiled.

  Stumbling over legs and apologising, she hurried to the edge of the crowd. At last.

  Gus hauled her into his arms and hugged her close and she felt the warmth and strength of him. She smelled his spicy cologne and his clean shirt, felt the thudding of his heartbeats, and she knew this was as good as it got.

  Complete, perfect happiness.

  Jingle Bells finished and the choir was given a round of hearty applause, and it was only then in the lull between carols, that Freya remembered she was supposed to be angry with Gus.

  ‘Where have you been? You said you’d be here four days ago.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  It was hard to be angry when Gus was fingering her hair and kissing her forehead.

  ‘The wet season arrived early,’ he said. ‘The first of the big monsoons caught us all by surprise. The airstrip was too boggy for the plane to land so I had to drive to an all-weather strip, but the rivers and creeks were already flooding so there were more delays.’ He looked down at her with a crooked smile. ‘I fought flood waters and crocodiles to get here.’

  Freya had to admit that, as excuses went, this was convincing. ‘Couldn’t you have let us know?’

  Gus shook his head. ‘All the lines were down and we had to rely on mobile phones, but a huge section of that Top End is out of the network. It was damn frustrating. I knew Nick would be disappointed.’

  ‘Well, yes, he was. Very.’

  ‘By the time I got to Darwin, my battery was dead and I had to rush to make the plane, so I simply jumped on and hoped I’d surprise him.’

  ‘He’ll be thrilled,’ Freya said, and she couldn’t help smiling. Here they were, talking about Nick, who couldn’t possibly be as thrilled as she was.

  Gus held her closer. ‘Nick looks well.’

  ‘He is. He’s never been better. All thanks to you.’

  The choir began a new carol—Deck the sheds with bits of wattle…

  Gus’s arms encircled Freya, drawing her back against the solid wall of his chest. They stood like that, bodies aflame, at the edge of the crowd, watching and listening. Above them, stars appeared in the inky heavens and the warm December night seemed to close in around them—a benevolent and comforting darkness.

  Freya might have felt completely at peace if she hadn’t had so many questions and hopes and fears clashing in her head. Could she dare to assume that she was as important to Gus as Nick was?

  As the second carol finished, Gus dipped his lips close to her ear. ‘How long does this singing go on for?’

  ‘Oh, about half an hour. Then Mel Crane dresses up in a Father Christmas suit and drives in on a tractor, handing o
ut ice creams to all the kids.’ She turned in Gus’s arms and searched his face. ‘Why? Are you bored already?’

  ‘Not bored.’ His eyes sparkled and his lips brushed her ear. ‘But I’m desperate to be alone with you.’

  Freya’s body zapped and flashed like a Christmas tree out of control. Perhaps it was just as well that another carol started—a song about six white kangaroos that pulled Santa’s sleigh through the Outback.

  She told herself not to get too excited. After all, it wasn’t surprising that a bachelor, newly arrived from a remote outpost, might want to be alone with a woman. Just the same, her body continued to zap and flash, but somehow she remembered to keep breathing as one carol flowed into the next.

  Then the children finished their last song and took their bows amidst a blaze of applause. Gus kept a tight hold on Freya’s hand as they made their way to the front to greet Nick.

  ‘Dad!’ the boy yelled, practically leaping into Gus’s arms.

  A warm glow burned inside Freya as joyous grins spread over both Nick’s and Gus’s faces.

  Gus told Nick how great the singing was and then he started to explain why he’d been delayed, but Nick didn’t seem to care now that his dad was here. Gus’s presence was all that mattered.

  Pretty, dark-haired Milla Matheson walked past again and sent Nick an extra-bright smile. He waved to her, then stood on tiptoe and whispered something in Gus’s ear.

  Gus turned and took a surreptitious glance at the girl as she walked away, then he gave Nick a nod and a winking smile of approval.

  ‘What are you two whispering about?’ Freya had to ask.

  Nick looked abashed and Gus laughed. ‘Secret men’s business.’ Then he looped one arm around the boy’s shoulders while he drew Freya to him. ‘Nick was just pointing out a nice sensible girl from his class at school.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was the only response Freya could manage. When she was this close to Gus, her brain went into meltdown and she could think of nothing but him, of how she felt about him, how she wished…

  Oh, dear God, was she wishing for too much?

  She was feeling shaky again as Poppy made her way towards them.

  ‘You sang like angels!’ she exclaimed, giving her grandson a bear hug that knocked his antlers sideways. Poppy beamed at Freya and Gus. ‘Weren’t the children wonderful?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ they agreed.

  ‘And now the ice creams are on their way.’ Poppy sent Gus a pointed glance.

  ‘Yes.’ Gus took Freya’s hand. ‘And it seems to me that if Nick’s going to be guzzling ice cream, this is the perfect time for me to take his mother for a walk.’

  ‘Can’t I come, too?’ asked Nick.

  ‘I thought you were lining up for ice cream?’

  The boy shrugged.

  ‘Thing is, I have something very important to say to your mum,’ Gus said, making Freya’s heart leap. ‘But I promise we won’t be too long.’

  ‘Take as long as you like,’ Poppy told them. ‘Nick and I won’t mind waiting. Will we, Nick?’

  The boy looked as if he might disagree, but something in Poppy’s expression must have changed his mind.

  ‘Sure.’ Nick’s face was split by a sudden grin. ‘We don’t mind how long you take.’

  ‘You know, those two are jumping to all sorts of conclusions,’ Freya told Gus as he led her away from the crowds and onto the dark, deserted beach.

  His response was a long look deep into her eyes and a smile that made her face flame.

  Hastily, she tried to think of something else to say. ‘Um…if we’re going to walk on the sand, we should probably take off our shoes.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  They left their shoes beside a pile of rocks, then walked towards the water. The sea was relatively flat with only small waves lapping the shore, and the tide was out, leaving an expanse of firm sand that was cool and damp beneath their bare feet. On the horizon, a beautiful almost full moon was rising.

  Freya took deep breaths of clean sea air, hoping it might help her to calm down.

  Gus’s arm was around her shoulders again. ‘It’s so good to be back,’ he said. ‘It’s so beautiful here, so quiet. I always feel at peace.’

  ‘That’s why the Bay’s such a popular holiday destination.’

  Gus stopped in his tracks.

  Freya’s heart took a dive. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I was talking rubbish. It’s not this place that gives me peace. I’ve been to oodles of quiet and beautiful places but I’ve never felt how I feel when I’m with you, Freya.’ He took both her hands in his. ‘In Brisbane, with all the medical drama on the go, whenever I was with you, I felt—’

  ‘Peaceful?’

  In the moonlight she saw Gus’s smile.

  ‘Not peaceful exactly. Most of the time I was filled with blinding lust—but I was happy. Bone-deep happy. Like I’d been sailing for a long time, lost at sea, and I’d found a perfect mooring.’

  He trapped her hands against his chest and held them there, enclosed in his hands.

  She could feel his heartbeats.

  His throat rippled. ‘I was hoping…that maybe…you might feel—’

  ‘I do,’ Freya whispered. ‘I’m exceptionally happy whenever I’m with you.’

  ‘Floss.’ Her old nickname floated on the night air as he pulled her in and kissed her.

  It was a long time before they walked on, arms about each other, skirting the edge of the water, and Freya was no longer worried. She was drenched in happiness.

  ‘We were always meant for each other,’ Gus said. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘But I made the worst mistake when I didn’t tell you about the baby.’

  ‘I was as much to blame. I was a conceited uni brat and I never gave you a proper chance to explain. But that’s behind us. Now we have the future.’

  ‘Are you saying—?’

  ‘Yes.’ Gus’s finger traced the shape of Freya’s ear. ‘I’m saying that I love you, Floss. I’ve been thinking about little else for the past six weeks. I was so anxious to get here to ask you to marry me.’

  Marry.

  Freya stumbled. She couldn’t help it. Her knees gave way completely and she sank towards the sand.

  Taken by surprise, Gus tried to catch her, but when she grabbed at his shirt she tipped him off balance.

  Next moment they landed in a tangled heap.

  Splash.

  A wave washed over them.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Gus sounded worried.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Freya was laughing, helpless with surprise.

  Sandy and damp, they clung together, breaking into giggles like teenagers.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Freya gasped between giggles.

  Another wave washed in, soaking them again and they didn’t care. They rolled closer and lay in their wet clothes, grinning goofily and gazing at the glistening stars in each other’s eyes.

  ‘I didn’t mean to shock you.’ Gus lifted a damp strand of hair from her face.

  ‘It’s OK. Being proposed to is the best kind of shock.’

  ‘But you didn’t give me an answer.’

  ‘Didn’t I?’ Freya kissed him, adoring the cool saltiness on his lips. ‘I meant to say yes. I’d love to marry you, Gus Wilder.’

  Another long and lovely kiss and another soaking wave later, Freya said, ‘But how’s it going to work? Do you have any plans for us?’

  Gus’s happy gaze searched her face. ‘Does it matter? At the moment, all I want is for you and me and Nick to be together. I don’t really mind where we are or what happens, as long as we’re a family.’

  ‘Sounds good to me. I’d be happy to go anywhere if you were there, and as long as Nick had access to decent health care.’

  ‘We’d make sure of that.’ He drew her into him. ‘Mmm,’ he whispered, trailing kisses over her throat. ‘I’ve always thought of you as my sexy mermaid.’

  Suddenly, the kisses stopped as Gus sat up. ‘
Hell.’ Swearing softly, he patted at his damp pockets.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Freya sat up too. ‘Have you lost something?’

  ‘I hope not.’

  Gus’s face was grim and distinctly worried as he dealt with a button on his shirt pocket. Of course, the task would have been so much easier if his clothes weren’t wringing wet.

  At last, he had the pocket open and he reached inside. ‘Thank God. I thought it might have washed out.’

  ‘What is it? Your wallet? Your phone?’

  ‘This,’ Gus said, reaching for her hand, and he slipped a ring onto her finger.

  ‘Ohhhh.’ Freya saw the flash of silver and diamonds and the gleam of a dark faceted stone and she gasped at the enormity of what might have happened if the ring had been lost. ‘An engagement ring,’ she whispered.

  ‘You can’t see it properly in this light, but the main stone’s a sapphire. A mixture of blue and green to match your eyes.’

  ‘Gus, I love it. I’d love it if it was made of barbed wire, but this is gorgeous.’

  ‘What happened to you two?’ Poppy tut-tutted as Gus and Freya finally arrived back from the beach with sodden clothes and dripping hair. ‘You look like a pair of good-for-nothing teenagers.’

  ‘I almost drowned trying to ask Freya to marry me,’ Gus said, grinning happily.

  This was met by squeals from Poppy and Nick.

  ‘And then we got engaged but we were more or less underwater,’ Freya added, laughing as she held out her hand to show them her beautiful ring.

  This news was greeted by even more satisfying reactions. Nick gave another squealing whoop and broke into a war dance. Poppy smiled enormously and hugged them both, wet clothes and all.

  It was a week later, with the happiest Christmas ever behind them, that Gus told Freya about his parents’ surprise.

  They were walking along the beach as they did most afternoons, floating on happiness, still marvelling that being together could be so good, that life could feel so wonderful. Nick was there too, running ahead of them with Urchin, throwing a ball for the dog to catch.

  ‘See this land,’ Gus said, pointing to a vacant double allotment that fronted both the beach and the mouth of a small creek.