by Margaret Way
‘It must be very hard,’ Nell agreed.
‘Especially at our age. Sam wakes several times during the night and now, with poor Bill’s stroke, we have so many trips during the day for his medical appointments. You wouldn’t believe how many people we have to see—doctors, physiotherapists, occupational therapists, speech pathologists.’
Jacob leaned forward, elbows on knees, his gaze intent. ‘You really need help, don’t you?’
‘I’m afraid I do. I love little Sam, but Bill has to be my first priority now.’ Jean patted her husband’s arm and smiled fondly. ‘The thing is, it’s not just caring for Sam while he’s a baby that I have to think about. There’s the long-term, too. Raising him through childhood, through school and beyond.’
It was a daunting prospect. And Nell couldn’t help thinking how stifling it would be for a lively little boy to grow up with an ageing grandmother and an invalid grandfather.
Jean lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I feel torn in all directions, but I really don’t see how we can be adequate parents for a growing boy. We were almost too old to adopt Tegan. And now—’ She ran worried fingers through her thin hair.
‘What are your options?’ Jacob asked while Nell’s heart began to thump as she guessed where this might be heading. Was Jean going to ask her to care for Sam on a permanent basis?
The thought awoke the hollow pain that had haunted her for many years after her parents had taken Tegan away. She’d eventually trained herself to put pregnancy and babies out of her mind, but now she felt stirrings of excitement, felt a leap of hope, like a rocket launching into a dark sky.
‘I have two options,’ Jean said. ‘One is to hand over Sam to the state, but that certainly wouldn’t be our preference. The other—’
Jean paused and Nell held her breath.
‘I’ve had my solicitor check on the legalities of an alternative,’ Jean said. ‘And I can hand over my guardianship to a suitable person. It needs to be approved by a magistrate in a lower court, with the support of the child care authorities.’
By now Nell’s heart was drumming so loudly she was sure everyone in the room must be able to hear it.
‘Do you have someone in mind?’ Jacob asked.
Every part of Nell tensed with anticipation.
Elbows on knees, Jacob leaned further forward. ‘Have you considered Sam’s father?’
Nell gasped. Sam’s father … Good heavens, she hadn’t given him a thought. Not a thought.
Who was Sam’s father? Some scruffy teenager?
Good grief, already she was sounding as bad as her parents.
‘We did quiz Tegan about Sam’s father,’ Jean said slowly, almost unwillingly. ‘But she was a very determined, single-minded girl. So independent. She’d totally come to terms with being a single mother. When we pressed her, she said she would eventually let the father into their lives, but it would be very much on her terms.’
‘But didn’t she tell you his name?’ Jacob persisted.
Jean shook her head. ‘I got the impression that she might have regretted their encounter, that she didn’t see him as long-term partner material.’
Jacob frowned. ‘Hasn’t anyone tried to trace him?’
‘I’m afraid Tegan insisted on leaving his name off the birth certificate, so we have nothing to go on.’ Jean glanced at her husband as if she wanted him to back her up, but he’d nodded off again.
Nell could understand that Jacob’s sympathy would be with Sam’s father, but she was selfishly glad that he wasn’t in the picture.
The more she thought about taking care of little Sam, the more she loved the idea. She could easily imagine a baby in her life. She could picture herself giving him a bath, putting talcum powder and baby cream on him and dressing him in dear little clothes like the ones she’d bought as gifts for so many of her friends’ babies.
It seemed very fitting for her to take care of Tegan’s baby, almost as if the universe were making recompense for the baby she had lost. At night she could sit in her rocking-chair and cuddle Sam close. She’d give him his bottle and he would fall asleep in her arms while she rocked him.
‘Our other problem is that Bill and I don’t have any close relatives,’ Jean was saying. ‘Only older friends of our own age.’ She gave a self-conscious little shrug of her thin shoulders. ‘Poor little Sam doesn’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of old crocks.’
The honesty of this silenced both Nell and Jacob.
Jean straightened her shoulders, looked resolute. ‘It might come as a shock, but I assure you we’ve talked this through at length. Bill and I want to raise the possibility of you, Nell, taking over as guardian.’
Here it was. Out in the open. Nell pressed a hand over her thumping heart. She turned to Jacob, but her joyous smile was frozen by the cheerlessness in his face.
Oh, help. How selfish she was. Sam was his grandson too. And he’d already missed out on knowing Tegan. But how could they share Sam? Jacob lived in Queensland.
Jean was watching them nervously, waiting for an answer.
‘I feel very honoured that you would trust me with Sam,’ Nell said. ‘It’s a big responsibility. A little life in my hands.’
‘We’d trust you, Nell.’
‘But—but you know so little about me.’
Jean’s eyes widened. ‘I feel as if I’ve known about you for a very long time.’
‘Really?’
‘I’ve been reading about your charity work in the papers for years now. And you’ve been sending Tegan birthday cards since she was five years old. I’ve sensed it’s been an effort for you to keep your distance, but you let us get on with our lives and we really appreciated that.’
Nell was gratified that Jean had understood.
‘And then there’s been this past week, since the accident,’ Jean said, as if she were throwing down a trump card. ‘I’ve really got to know you well and you’ve been so very kind.’
Nell wondered what Jacob was thinking about this, but his face was more composed now and it was hard to tell. She turned back to Jean. ‘I don’t suppose there’d be any difficulty getting the magistrate’s approval?’
‘Oh, I don’t think there’d be any problem there. My solicitor tells me you’re so well-known in legal circles, there’s any number of people willing to give you a glowing reference.’
‘Looks like you have it in the bag, Nell,’ Jacob said dryly.
‘There would have to be a kind of trial period,’ Jean warned. ‘To test the waters, so to speak. It will take about a month, I’m told, before the legal aspects are sorted out and you could have full custody. But we could place Sam in your temporary care any time.’
Nell nodded thoughtfully. ‘And when were you hoping that might happen?’
‘Well, I assume you’d like a little time to think about it.’
‘I don’t really need time. I—I’m perfectly free to take care of Sam. And I’d love to.’
‘Oh, Nell.’ Jean’s eyes shone with tears, but she looked exceptionally pleased. ‘Oh, bless you. That’s wonderful’
‘So you just have to name a day.’
Jean blushed and clapped her hands to the sides of her reddened face. ‘This must sound terrible, but would tomorrow be too soon?’
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Nell said later, as Jacob drove the Mercedes back to Williamstown.
‘What am I thinking?’
‘That Jean totally overlooked the possibility that you might like to care for Sam.’
He gave a shrug that was anything but casual. ‘It’s not at all surprising. Jean doesn’t know me from Adam.’
‘But you still feel that the rights of fathers are too often overlooked.’
‘It’s a universal truth, isn’t it?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Nell watched the suburban houses flash past, their pointed rooftops looking like rows of red-tiled teeth. ‘It’s very difficult, isn’t it? We certainly wouldn’t want to start a custody batt
le and, as the mother, I—’
‘You’re the grandmother, Nell,’ Jacob corrected, with a wry quarter smile.
She rolled her eyes at him.
‘The truth is,’ he said, ‘we both have a claim, but the Brownes don’t know me. And we can’t split the poor little fellow in two.’
‘Of course we can’t. And, if you were honest, you’d have to admit it would be very hard for you to take on a baby.’
‘Not necessarily.’
‘Think about it, Jacob. Imagine trying to care for a little baby on your Outback cattle property.’
‘It happens all the time.’
‘Oh, yes? And how many single dads do you know in the Outback?’
He shrugged. ‘I admit I don’t know any personally.’
‘Because it would be next to impossible to run an enormous cattle property and look after a baby at the same time. You’re probably picturing Sam as a little boy, riding horses, but think about what caring for a tiny baby entails. All the bottles and formula, the nappy-changing, the sleepless nights.’
‘Whoa there.’ Jacob lifted a hand from the steering wheel.
‘But I’m making valid points.’ This was so like a man, to skim over the nitty-gritty domestic details.
He smiled gently, almost sadly. ‘Keep your hair on, Nell. I’m not going to try to take Sam away from you. I’m actually delighted that you’re going to care for him. You’ll be wonderful.’
She released her breath with a sigh, realised she had been getting unnecessarily worked up. The thing was, Jacob might not be demanding his rights to Sam, but she knew he wasn’t happy about being excluded again. What a sad, complicated state of affairs this was.
It was time to turn off the freeway and they let the subject drop until they reached her house. When they pulled up at her front gate, Jacob turned off the ignition but he remained in his seat, with one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel as he looked ahead through the windscreen at her neat suburban street.
Nell couldn’t help admiring his profile—the high brow furrowed in thought, the strong nose, the attractive cleft in his chin. ‘What are you thinking now?’ she asked.
‘About that photo album at the Brownes’. All those snapshots of Tegan’s life. All those milestones.’ His long tanned fingers tightened around the steering wheel. ‘I was her father and I was never there. Not for one event, big or small, and neither were you, Nell. We were never a part of our daughter’s life.’
Her throat was suddenly so choked she couldn’t speak.
‘I don’t want a repeat of that with Sam.’
Eventually, she asked, ‘What can we do?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted grimly, but then he turned to her and the tiniest hint of warmth crept into his eyes. ‘Let me sleep on it.’
‘Sleep on it?’
‘Bad idea?’
‘Oh, in theory it’s fine, I suppose. It’s just that I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.’ She hadn’t been able to sleep properly for days, not since she’d heard about Tegan’s accident. Last night had been particularly bad. Seeing Jacob again had been enough to wreck her sleep, but now there was the excitement of Sam. It was like being pumped with mind-frying drugs.
Jacob got out and came around to her side of the car. As he opened her door, she wondered if he was going to kiss her again and her insides fluttered in anticipation. Heaven help her, she could still remember intimate details of how beautifully this man had made love to her.
‘Here’s a better idea,’ he said when she was standing on the footpath. ‘Why don’t we talk about this over dinner tonight?’
‘Dinner?’ Nell repeated the word as if she’d never heard it before. The thought of dressing up and going out to a restaurant with Jacob Tucker messed with her head, stole her breath.
From the waterfront, a short block away, she heard the blast of a ferry’s horn and the high-pitched screams of seagulls.
Jacob’s eyes twinkled. ‘You understand the concept of dinner, don’t you? Two people go to a restaurant, sit at a table and enjoy a meal, usually an evening meal.’
She gave him a withering look. To go to dinner with him would feel like a date. A date with Jacob after twenty years …
‘If you’re going to take charge of the baby tomorrow, you should enjoy a night out,’ he urged. ‘Who knows what your life will be like after that? This might be your last night of freedom.’
‘That’s true.’
Smiling, Jacob ducked his head to catch the expression in her eyes. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then?’
When he smiled at her like that there was no way she could refuse.
‘I guess it’s a yes.’ Nell returned his smile shyly. ‘Thank you,’ she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘But just for dinner.’ It was important to keep this simple. No complications. ‘I don’t want a late night.’
‘How about an Italian place on Lygon Street?’
Lygon Street, made famous after the welcome influx of Italian immigrants, was one of Melbourne’s best known restaurant precincts. She’d spent many a warm summer’s evening there, enjoying the relaxing, friendly atmosphere and the wonderful food.
‘Why not?’ she said. ‘Lygon Street would be perfect.’
CHAPTER FOUR
HANDS in pockets, head down, Jacob paced Melbourne’s central business district, hurrying along Spencer Street, Collins, King and Bourke Streets with little sense of direction or purpose. He passed some of Australia’s finest department stores, many wonderful bookshops and cafés, but paid them scant attention.
He’d never liked the big smoke, with its endless streams of traffic, its towering concrete buildings blocking the sky, its dank and smelly back streets. He always felt sorry for the blank-faced pedestrians, dressed in dark suits all year round, always hurrying, constantly bombarded by advertisements urging them to spend, spend, spend.
After a few days in Sydney or Melbourne, he was itching to be back in the bush, with wide open spaces, the big sky, the smell of gum leaves and clean sunshine. Even the dust stirred up by cattle was preferable to the exhaust fumes of city traffic.
He would give anything to be able to spirit Sam away from the city and he thought it was rather one-eyed of Nell to wave aside any suggestion that Sam could grow up in the Outback. She’d had a country childhood. She knew how good it could be.
Bush kids were fit and supremely capable. They learned to be self-reliant and to make their own fun outdoors, instead of sitting about, glued to television sets and video games. There was no better place for Sam to grow up.
But it wasn’t going to happen. Jacob knew he couldn’t stake a claim on the kid. Not now that he’d heard Nell’s full story. Not now he’d spent a morning in her company, listening to her, watching her, discovering in the self-assured woman pleasing glimpses of the high-spirited girl he’d loved.
He had no doubt that Nell had earned this chance to be Sam’s mother. But the looming distance between himself and Sam bothered him—really bothered him. Thousands of kilometres of separation. And once Nell had their grandson in her care, Jacob would only be able to visit him on her terms.
It wasn’t, in any way, satisfactory.
Teeth gritted, brow fixed in a frown, he joined a group of pedestrians crossing Swanson Street at the lights and walked on.
At least Nell’s husband wasn’t in the picture. Jacob wasn’t entirely sure how this made a difference, except that he’d kissed her on the strength of it …
And what wouldn’t he have given to have let that kiss go on and on?
But that was fantasy. On the other hand, the issue of Sam’s unnamed father was real. It was all very well for Jean Browne to act as if the father didn’t exist, but there was a man out there, perhaps a young man of nineteen or twenty, who had a right to be consulted.
Fathers, and grandfathers for that matter, were important to boys. Jacob’s own dad had died when he was very young and he’d missed the chance to get to know him. It had been damned hard f
or his mother to raise a boy on her own and Jacob had grown up with a deep-seated urge to be a husband and father, a tower of strength for his family.
But at just nineteen that dream had gone pear-shaped.
He continued, pacing all afternoon until serious-faced commuters began to bustle out of offices and on to trams and trains and it was time to head back to his hotel, to shower and change for dinner.
As he crossed the footbridge over the Yarra River to the South Bank, his disconnected thoughts suddenly fused and he made a decision. His plan of action would begin tonight.
Shortly before seven, Jacob walked up the path to Nell’s front door. It was a beautiful evening and he took a deep lungful of air, laden with the scents of the sea and of lavender and roses. When Nell opened the door, however, he almost forgot to take another breath.
She was wearing a dark green dress with a ruffled top and a slim-fitting skirt and she’d threaded gold hoops in her ears. Her hair was swept up into one of those intriguing loose knots that looked as if they were on the verge of falling apart, so that a fellow had to keep watching, just in case.
There was something incredibly alluring and ultrafeminine about the soft fabric of her dress. The darkness of the forest-green made her hair more golden than ever, her skin smoother, her eyes brighter.
He wanted to gather her in to him, to hold her, to feel the softness of her skin against his, to taste her lush mouth again.
Too soon, he warned himself, but it was difficult to forget the eager way Nell had used to melt against him when they had been nineteen, the way she’d made him feel like a god.
The more time he spent with her, the more the memories flooded back, until it was hard to think about anything but lying with her in the sweet grass beside the river … undoing the buttons on her blouse.