A Child In Need

by Marion Lennox

  Harry was only three years old and, if Shanni was right…if he could help…

  Nick was in a position to guess that attachment was possible if they found a home where there was a decent male parent. Harry just needed his dad, Nick thought.

  As he had.

  That had nothing to do with it, he thought savagely. His own background was irrelevant. Think of practicalities. He shook off the feeling of wanting to stay right out of this and let himself remember how Harry had felt holding him close. He’d hugged him all that long night of the hostage drama, and it hadn’t just been Harry who’d received comfort.

  This was ridiculous!

  Yes, but just talking to Wendy couldn’t hurt-telling Wendy if she wanted a statement then he was prepared to make it. It couldn’t hurt to do that much-and then steer clear. And…Shanni was at the movies.

  It was only nine. Not too late. Decision made, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

  With his hair still tousled.

  ‘If it’ll help then I’ll put that all in writing.’

  ‘It will.’ Wendy stared across the table at her visitor, her eyes troubled. ‘The only problem is…’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘You’re saying he shouldn’t be institutionalised because he’s capable of attachment. But you’re not willing to allow that attachment.’

  ‘I…no.’

  ‘Do you know about our big brother scheme?’

  ‘Shanni…Miss McDonald told me about it, yes.’

  ‘And you’re not willing to be a part of it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She paused and regarded him across the table with knowing eyes. In silence.

  Which Nick found vaguely unsettling. The woman was still relatively young, close to thirty, maybe, but Nick knew instinctively that she’d make a great house mother for troubled kids. She was sort of…comfortable. She had kindly eyes that crinkled from too much smiling-eyes that said she accepted all comers as she found them.

  And she knew what she was seeing now. ‘You’ve had a tough time yourself,’ she said softly, and Nick stared.

  ‘How…?’

  ‘How do I know?’ She spread her hands. ‘You get to know the look. And Shanni told me.

  ‘What on earth does Shanni know?’

  ‘She sees as much as I do.’ Wendy smiled and pushed her fingers through her mass of dark curls. She’d tied them back into a knot but they were breaking free everywhere. ‘She’s quite a girl. If that’s all, then…’

  ‘Is Harry asleep?’ Now, why had he asked that?

  ‘I doubt it.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s hard to get him to sleep. He lies there for hours, just staring into the dark. But if you’re not willing to take this further then maybe it’s not such a good idea to prolong the agony.’

  ‘The agony?’

  ‘Harry wants you,’ she said simply. ‘He cries to go to you. That’s why Shanni took him to lunch with you today.’ And then she paused as she heard a car pull up outside. There was a click of the gate, and then a low laugh as someone greeted one of the older children. ‘Speaking of which…here she is.’

  The first thing she saw was his hair.

  Shanni burst in the door and stopped dead. She’d never expected that Nick would come. She’d been expecting Wendy, and Wendy was there, but so was Nick and this was a very different Nick. So far she’d seen him groomed and immaculate and slick and smooth. Now…he was in casual trousers, a short-sleeved, open-necked shirt and his hair was tousled and thick and unruly.

  She could see why he combed it down. Smoothed, it looked like the hairstyle of a barrister of the highest standing. Now it was a tousled mop, and he looked years younger. He didn’t look like a magistrate, she thought. He looked…nice.

  Nick wasn’t nice, she told herself, strangely off-balance. He was a toad. All men were toads. John was toad number one but Nick was running a close second.

  ‘How was the movie?’ he asked mildly, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  ‘Lousy.’

  ‘How come?’ Wendy smiled and rose to fetch more coffee. ‘Weren’t you seeing the one about the runaway bride?’

  ‘Yes-but it had a stupid ending. She didn’t keep running.’

  Wendy choked on laughter, then crossed to give her friend a hug. They were obviously very close. ‘Hey, it’s okay. Maybe you and John can sort it out.’

  ‘No, we can’t,’ Shanni said darkly, hugging back. ‘He wants a den.’

  ‘What’s wrong with a man wanting a den?’ Nick asked, startled, and got a glower for his pains.

  ‘We did house plans last night,’ she explained-as if he was a simpleton. ‘John has it all worked out. Three bedrooms, living room, kitchen for me and a den for him. Isn’t that cosy?’

  ‘A man needs a den,’ Nick said, and found he now had two women glaring at him. Oh, help…

  ‘I have a den,’ said Wendy.

  ‘Why can’t I have a den?’ demanded Shanni. ‘Chauvinist twit. But when I said that, John just laughed-like I was being cute because what would the little woman want a den for? And then he told me to go and choose bathroom tiles. And then today…’

  ‘I know what happened today,’ Wendy said, and both of them stared at her.

  ‘Well, if you will have your domestics in full view of the pier… Half the retired folk of the town listened in.’

  ‘Oh, great.’ Nick groaned.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re complaining,’ Shanni said crossly. ‘You get to play magistrate for two years and then leave this place. I’m stuck here for ever.’ She helped herself from the coffee pot Wendy produced, sat down and stuck a thumb in the direction of Nick. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘Refusing to play big brother.’

  ‘Hey, I’m signing an affidavit like Shanni wanted me to,’ Nick said, stung. ‘What else do you want?’

  ‘You to go in and hug Harry goodnight-and promise you’ll do the same tomorrow,’ Wendy said promptly.

  Silence.

  ‘See,’ Shanni said morosely into her coffee. ‘They’re all useless.’

  ‘There’s reasons he’s like this,’ Wendy said kindly. ‘He’s got a past.’

  ‘Yeah, but if he had real courage…’

  ‘Are we talking about me, here,’ Nick said carefully. ‘If we are, then would you mind including me?’

  ‘You don’t include anyone else,’ Shanni retorted. ‘You go on being solitary and we’ll go on not communicating. That’s the way you like it.’

  ‘Shanni…’

  ‘If I communicate with him he accuses me of setting my cap at him,’ she told Wendy, ignoring him nicely. ‘As if I would. The heroine in my movie had the right idea-but to give in at the end and marry one of the species… No!’

  ‘I reckon you ought to try, though,’ Wendy said thoughtfully. ‘Communicating, I mean. Now he’s abandoned his smooth look he seems sort of cute.’

  This was way out of hand. He was getting out of here-fast.

  ‘He is cute,’ Shanni admitted. ‘But ego…lawyer and judge and good looks combined. Phew!’

  ‘And aloof,’ Wendy said sadly. ‘Puts himself above everyone in this place. Bet he thinks he’s the greatest intellectual in town.’

  ‘Hey…’

  ‘Bet he never ever stays for weekends,’ Wendy said. ‘What’s the bet he’s getting in his cute little car tomorrow and heading back to Melbourne for the weekend just as fast as he can drive? Because this place threatens him.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Shanni nodded. ‘I can’t say I blame him.’

  ‘Shanni!’ Wendy stared. ‘Hey, keep your end of the conversation going here, girl. I can’t keep lawyer-bashing on my own.’

  ‘But it does get a bit claustrophobic.’ Shanni was no longer looking at Nick. She was staring into the dregs of her coffee, her mind on her own problems. ‘We’re having a family beach picnic on Sunday,’ she explained morosely. ‘Grandpa’s seventieth birthday. They’ll be so sympathetic-or secretly pleased, which is wo
rse.’

  ‘Because of you and John.’

  ‘The whole town thought we were getting married. Including John.’

  ‘Including you?’ Wendy prodded, and Shanni shrugged.

  ‘Yeah, I guess…’

  ‘So take your new fella.’

  ‘I don’t have a new fella.’ Shanni thumped her mug on the table. ‘Wendy, will you stop it? Everyone thinks Nick and I ran straight into each other’s arms, and the last thing I need is yet another man.’

  ‘What about you?’ Wendy said, wheeling to Nick and honing in like an arrow. ‘Interested?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘There you go, then,’ she said, and sat back smugly, arms folded. ‘So neither of you are interested in any sort of relationship, but both of you are interested in saving Harry. So therefore…’

  ‘Therefore…’ Nick was being swept away here. This woman was too much for him. He was glad she didn’t have a legal degree, he thought. She’d wipe the floor with him at the bar.

  ‘So therefore I can tell the assessor tomorrow that Harry’s developing relationships all over the place, and I can tell Harry that the two of you are taking him out on Sunday to Shanni’s family picnic.’

  ‘No!’ they said in unison, and Wendy grinned at the twin sound of revulsion in their voices.

  ‘Why not? It means I have a promise I can use to put Harry to sleep at night. It’ll give me breathing space. If I can use the two of you ’til he relaxes with me…’

  ‘Wendy…’

  ‘Look!’ She was all earnestness now, fighting for one of her kids, and Nick knew his first assessment of her had been right. She’d give her all to make sure the kids she cared for had a chance. ‘I can’t cope with Harry, now,’ she admitted. ‘He screams and he won’t let me near. I beg, cajole, hug, threaten, but nothing I say makes any difference. But if I say, “You go to bed on time and you eat your dinner and you don’t scream the place down, then Shanni and Nick will take you out on a picnic on Sunday…”’

  ‘I’m going back to Melbourne,’ Nick said faintly.

  ‘So what’s more important?’ Wendy was fighting every way she knew how. ‘Your weekend in Melbourne? Or a little boy’s future? If I can settle him here, make the psychologist see that there’s a chance he might settle…’

  ‘Wendy, we’re not promising anything long-term,’ Shanni said uneasily. ‘I mean, if he grows too attached…’

  ‘You tried to talk Nick into being big brother to him,’ Wendy said sternly. ‘Anyone can see Nick won’t buy that sort of responsibility on his own-he’s running scared-so maybe you can convince him to share. Instead of a big brother-why not brother and sister? What could be simpler than that?’

  ‘Maybe…’ Shanni was dubious.

  ‘And it’s even neutral,’ Wendy said triumphantly. ‘No sex at all.’

  ‘Or not in front of the children.’ Shanni’s irrepressible twinkle peeped out, and Nick groaned. Heck, this was his weekend they were talking about. This was stupid. There was no chance he was staying.

  And then the door opened and a small face appeared, peering around as if he expected to be knocked back again. Harry was wearing pyjamas a couple of sizes too big for him, his fibreglass cast made them look ungainly and awkward, and his eyes were way too big for his face.

  ‘My Nick’s here,’ he whispered, unbelieving, and Nick’s heart jerked with pain.

  ‘You should be in bed, young man,’ Wendy said, crossing to scoop him up in her arms. He held himself rigid, arching back in a pose of rejection that Nick was starting to know.

  ‘Why is Nick here?’ he whispered.

  ‘He came to invite you to lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go?’

  Harry’s eyes swung to Nick’s. His face said he didn’t believe a word.

  ‘It’s true,’ Nick said weakly, because there was nothing else to say. ‘Sunday picnic. With Miss McDonald for her grandpa’s birthday.’

  ‘Shanni,’ said Shanni. ‘You can call me Shanni when we’re not at kindergarten. Would you like to come to the beach with us again, Harry?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was one simple word-but it was almost like a sigh of relief.

  ‘Then you have to promise to go straight to sleep, Harry, lad,’ Wendy said sternly. ‘Three more sleeps until Sunday and no protests.’

  ‘Three more sleeps-and then you’ll come?’ He was looking straight at Nick, his eyes searching for the truth.

  ‘I…yes.’

  ‘Would you like to tuck him back into bed?’ Wendy asked gently, and proffered the small body toward Nick

  Nick froze.

  But they were all looking at him. Wendy. Harry. And Shanni. He was on some sort of fence, he thought. One way was safety-the way he knew. The other-the other was the unknown, and the unknown scared the life out of him.

  But still they looked at him, and Harry’s eyes said he expected nothing. Life had slapped him once too often to believe in happy endings. And he couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Okay, kid,’ Nick said resignedly, and rose and accepted Harry from Wendy’s arms. Harry’s arms swept around his neck and clung. ‘Where’s your bed? Show me.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘You said that about John.’ Shanni poured herself more coffee and sank down opposite her friend.

  ‘I lied. John’s a meat-head. Pleasant, kind, but a bit…you know-the lights are on but no one’s home.’

  ‘And this guy?’

  ‘The lights are off and the door’s locked but he’s home all right,’ Wendy said. ‘He’s all in there but he’s not letting it show. He’s running scared.’

  ‘I’m not exactly chasing him.’ Shanni sighed. ‘Heck, the last thing I want is emotional entanglement. Especially not with some smart-alec city lawyer.’

  ‘Just one step at a time,’ Wendy said gently. ‘Just concentrate on Harry. But if you can kill two birds with one stone…’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I mean that man in there has been badly hurt in the past,’ Wendy said sternly. ‘It stands out a mile. In my profession you know the look, and you can see it as well as me. I reckon our magistrate needs Harry as much as Harry needs him.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ Shanni looked dubiously at her friend. ‘And I hope he sees it.’

  ‘I know I’m right,’ Wendy said to herself later as she closed her door on the pair of them. ‘I also think there are more needs here than Harry’s-and I hope you’re both wise enough to see it.’

  Shanni intended walking.

  Nick expected Shanni’s car to be with his, but there was only his sports car parked outside.

  ‘Mum dropped me off here,’ Shanni told him. ‘My car’s got a cracked head, or something ghastly, and may be on its way to the car graveyard as we speak. The mechanics just shake their heads and groan every time I ask. So Mum drove me to the pictures, but I wanted to check on Harry afterwards. I’m walking home.’

  ‘Where’s home?’

  ‘A mile or so thataway.’

  ‘A mile!’ Nick looked out into the dark in the direction she was pointing. They were on the outskirts of town, and the road she was pointing to led northwards, into the dark ‘You can’t do that!’

  ‘Hey, this is Bay Beach,’ she said, laughing. ‘You don’t get mugged in Bay Beach.’

  ‘There are weirdos everywhere. Does your mother know you intend walking?’

  ‘I told her I’d call a cab,’ Shanni admitted. ‘But I want to walk. I need to think.’

  ‘You don’t walk.’

  ‘I’m a big girl now.’

  ‘And I’m a criminal lawyer. A magistrate. I know what’s out there.’

  ‘Oh, scare me stupid, why don’t you?’ She shook her head, half-laughing, half-nervous. ‘Cut it out.’

  ‘Get in the car, Shanni,’ he said heavily. He’d seen too much in this job to let anyone take stupid risks. Especially Shanni! ‘Do your thinking when you’re safe in your own bed. I’m taking you home.’

  ‘I d
on’t…’

  ‘Shanni, please…’

  She stared at him for a long moment, hearing the trace of fear in his voice-and then she silently climbed into his car.

  She didn’t know this man at all, she thought.

  And she was almost fearful of the sensation.

  Shanni’s family farm was set back from the road, between the main road and the coast. The country was moonlit, and Nick could see that it was magnificent-rolling hills, vast gum trees, and cattle standing peacefully in the moonlight.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ he said, and she cast him a wry look.

  ‘Hardly your cup of tea.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why did you come here?’ she asked. They’d been silent all the way from town, but now, as the car pulled to a halt before the farmhouse verandah, she seemed to find her tongue.

  ‘It’s the first step to becoming a judge. I don’t want to stay a lawyer for ever,’ he said, and unexpectedly she grinned.

  ‘Then you’ve taken the first step. You’ve stopped wearing your suit and tie. Congratulations.’

  It was hard not to grin back. Her smile was infectious. ‘It’s back to suits tomorrow.’

  ‘Magistrates don’t need suits. They need…I don’t know. Knowledge. Wisdom. Compassion.’

  ‘Failing all that, suits will have to do.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She shook her head at him. He cut the engine-she should get out-but the night was still and warm and there was this thing between them that needed examining…

  ‘It’s a shame,’ she said softly, ‘to wear such severe suits, to flatten that gorgeous hair…’ Then, before he could do anything to stop her, her hand came out and touched his head. She was running her fingers through his tousled curls as if she couldn’t help herself. ‘It’s great hair. Lovely hair. Do you take after your mother or father?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ The feeling of her fingers in his hair was weird. It set every nerve in his body alight. He found himself clenching his hands on the steering wheel, staring out at the night beyond and trying to halt the flood of sensations coursing through his body.

  ‘I see.’ Silence. Then… ‘So Wendy’s right.’

  ‘Wendy sticks her nose where it has no business being.’ His voice sounded as strained as he felt.