She moved to the door. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked, pushing it open. Her heart cramped at the sight: Matilda huddled up in bed, a box of tissues in her lap, most of its contents used and scattered around her.
Mat looked up, a tiny sparkle in her eyes as she registered Ellie. ‘Of course.’ She patted the bed beside her.
Then at the same time they both gushed, ‘I’m sorry.’
Ellie rushed to Mat, forgetting to be gentle as she landed on the bed. The other woman bounced a little but wrapped her arms around Ellie – the girl she thought of as her own – and pulled her close. Ellie hugged back, squeezing like she’d never let go. They stayed like that for some time, neither of them saying anything. Words were unnecessary. Tears were shed and the tissue box was empty before Ellie finally asked the question burning inside her.
‘How long do we have?’
Taking a deep breath, Matilda answered. ‘Three to six months. As long as I don’t come down with anything else.’
‘Three months.’ Ellie tested the words, thinking that was nowhere near long enough. Then a thought struck her. Terrified, she asked, ‘But what about your cold?’
‘It’s nothing.’ Mat shook her head and began to stroke Ellie’s hair. ‘Only a sniffle, and I’ve been taking my vitamins and minerals.’
Her touch had always soothed Ellie but today it didn’t work. A zillion thoughts blurred together in her head. ‘You shouldn’t have gone out the other night. It was freezing.’
‘I was rugged up.’
Ellie shivered. She had to ask. ‘Is it too late for treatment?’
‘Yes.’ Mat’s voice was firm. ‘Even if you tried to change my mind, it would do no good now. The only thing is to keep on living. Which means,’ she paused, ‘you should go back to work for a bit. I’ll let you know when I’m close.’
‘No.’ Ellie felt sick. It were as if they were talking about someone else, something else. Something trivial. ‘I love you, Mat. I owe you everything.’
‘Darling, you don’t owe me anything.’
‘I do. But I’m not staying out of duty, I’m staying because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’
‘What about Flynn?’ asked Matilda.
‘What about him?’
‘Well, if that’s the way you want to play it.’ Her sense of humour was returning.
‘It’s the only way we’re going to play it,’ Ellie retorted. ‘Now, can I get you some supper? I’ve got a pizza in the fridge and we can crack open a bottle of white to go with it. Then you can tell me some snow globe stories.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Mat pushed herself out of bed and shuffled down the hallway after Ellie. She sat at the kitchen table while Ellie put the pizza in the oven and poured the wine. ‘Do you know how blessed I am to have you in my life?’ she asked after a while.
Ellie shook her head. ‘I think it’s the other way around.’ And she did. Ellie’s few years under Matilda’s guardianship had made her the woman she was today. Mat had taught her independence, self-sufficiency and, most importantly, confidence and faith. Now it was her turn to give back. And give back she would.
If they only had three months, Ellie would make them the best three months of Matilda’s life. She would look after her better than if she were the queen.
Chapter Twenty-three
The bush telegraph wasn’t a myth – news, both good and bad, travelled fast in country towns. Flynn usually didn’t listen to gossip, but when he was at the bank on Friday morning, he heard Natasha behind the counter mention how sad something was. Then, when the woman she was talking to – the minister’s wife – nodded and said, ‘Bless Matilda’s soul,’ he had to know.
‘Excuse me, but what’s wrong with Ms Thompson?’
The minister’s wife pressed a hand to her breast and sighed sadly. ‘Haven’t you heard? She has cancer, love. She requested the prayer chain pray for Ellie.’
The prayer chain was a group of women from the local church, including his mother, who rang each other whenever there was an emergency or someone was sick. If something bad happened in the district, everyone knew to ring the first link of the chain, the minister’s wife. She’d say a prayer, then ring the next link, and so on. Pretty soon half the district would know about the issue and a dozen or so prayers were sent skyward. Whether it worked or not was anyone’s guess, but Flynn couldn’t see the harm.
‘This town won’t be the same without her,’ Natasha said. There were murmurs of agreement amongst the staff and patrons, who all seemed to have heard the news already.
Flynn’s first thought was for Ellie. According to Lucy she was going back to Sydney today. Would she still leave? She’d not mentioned Mat’s illness, but then, why should he have expected her to? What right did he have to know? His eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated her devastation. The bond between Ellie and Mat was one of the strongest he’d ever seen, and he knew what it was like to lose a parent. His instinct told him to go to her.
He shoved his card back inside his wallet without conducting his business, and started for the door. Once outside, however, he called himself on his actions. Aside from the day she’d turned up when Lauren was visiting, he hadn’t so much as spoken to Ellie in two weeks. Since that day on the farm when they were painting the sets, when they almost …
He couldn’t just drop in. Besides, he’d already arranged to meet Lauren for lunch.
He leaned against the wall of the building and cursed. It seemed higher powers were committed to disrupting all his dates with thoughts of Ellie. She didn’t even have to be near him to be a distraction. Would this ever change?
‘Flynn.’
He stood to attention at the sound of Lauren’s voice. Guilt weighed heavy on his heart. Lauren was in a tiny, white uniform – the kind that sassy nurses on television shows wore – but all he could think about was how Ellie would be feeling.
‘Hi.’ He cleared his throat, wishing it were as easy to clear his head. ‘You look lovely.’
Her cheeks gave away her joy at his compliment. ‘In this? You are such a sweetie.’ Before he could anticipate it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was just a quick peck but it took him by surprise all the same. He smiled and resisted the urge to wipe his mouth.
‘Eat in, or takeaway in the park?’ he asked.
‘Takeaway in the park sounds very romantic.’
Not feeling the slightest bit romantic, Flynn let Lauren take his hand and listened to her chatter as they walked down to the café. Unable to think through the options, he ordered a simple toasted sandwich, but they had to wait an age for Lauren’s tofu-and-paella salad – whatever the hell that was.
In the park they sat against an old eucalypt. The tree had been the topic of much debate amongst shire councillors over the years. Many thought its height and reach would be a threat if a storm came through, while others believed the ancient tree was part of Hope Junction’s iconic history. Flynn agreed with the latter, and thought about this while Lauren chatted away. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation – a grumpy and doleful disposition seemed to be his norm lately. And although he didn’t like it, he couldn’t quite find a way to shake it. For a while, Lauren didn’t appear to notice, content to natter on about her emails from Whitney – she and Rats were now on their honeymoon – from her brother, and general local gossip. She didn’t mention Matilda. Flynn knew this much as he made sure he paid enough attention to make the right noises at regular intervals.
But eventually Lauren noticed his lack of interaction. ‘Flynn, what’s up with you today? You’ve barely said a word.’
‘It’s …’ He meant to say nothing. He probably should have too, but he wanted information and Lauren, working at the hospital, might have some. ‘Have you heard about Matilda Thompson?’
She nodded. ‘Who hasn’t?’
‘I only just found out in the bank. How long has it been?’
‘Quite a while.’ She took a sip of Diet Coke. ‘But she didn’t want anyone to
know. Not even Elenora.’
‘Ellie,’ he corrected.
‘Ellie, whatever. Sorry.’
There was silence for a moment. ‘I don’t want you to break your vow of silence or whatever it’s called, but how bad is she?’
Lauren sighed. ‘Bad. She’s not doing chemo, so she’s got maybe a couple of months.’
Flynn gasped, he couldn’t help it. ‘That’s awful.’
‘It is,’ Lauren said simply. ‘But Matilda has a full life with friends who care. There are many who have no one.’
Flynn heard professional sympathy in her voice. He understood the need to develop a thick skin as a nurse, but Lauren seemed overly detached. This wasn’t just anyone who was dying – this was a special member of their community. This was Matilda. Ellie’s Mat. He tried to think of a way to help without getting involved. They didn’t need money, and he couldn’t offer physical comfort, but he hated feeling so damn helpless.
‘Perhaps we should organise a local event, a dinner to show how much we all care or something.’
‘There’ll be someone already thought of it,’ said Lauren absentmindedly. She dug her phone out of her bag and began scrolling. ‘Matilda’s got plenty of friends.’
She was right. The eccentric, lovable Ms T was as much a local identity as the statue that stood in Apex Park. Mat would have visitors aplenty and everything she needed. But what would Ellie have? Who would be there to offer her the support she needed?
Chapter Twenty-four
Ellie turned on the kitchen light and made a beeline for the kettle. Through the window the first glow of dawn made a violet strip along the horizon. Every day she made sure she rose before Mat and prepared a cup of tea and her painkillers for the moment she awoke. She’d put Lake Street on hold – the script team found a way to explain her absence – and the producers had expressed their sympathy, happy to hold her job for as long as she needed.
Mat’s strength astounded Ellie. She never got the grumps about her situation and rarely complained about the pain, even though the doctor said it would be increasing. Eventually it would become almost unbearable, she’d told Ellie, and it was likely then, if some other ailment didn’t take her first, that Mat would give up her fight.
Hating the thought, Ellie filled the kettle and flicked the switch with more force than necessary. Even now, Mat slept a lot in the daytime and got tired from just doing a crossword.
Life simply sucked sometimes. Today, cleaning, cooking and movies were on the agenda. She had to keep busy or she’d go insane. And although she’d made enough soup and scones to last them till judgement day, it helped her feel like she were doing something useful.
While the water heated, she swallowed her own vitamins – a concoction she’d requested from the pharmacist to help her stave off any errant illness. She didn’t want any germs in the house, anything that would make Mat’s last months harder than they already were.
She took the oats out of the cupboard and set about making porridge. Another sacrifice for good health – she’d much prefer a good old bowl of Froot Loops.
Froot Loops. Flynn’s favourite too. A spasm of jealousy hit as she imagined him sharing breakfast with Lauren. Mat’s visitors gave precious little away, but one had let slip they’d seen him lunching in the park with Lauren. She guessed he was too busy with his new girlfriend to offer his sympathies to an old one. She didn’t know what she expected from him, but almost every other person in town had made some sort of gesture – a card, an email, a phone call – and his silence angered her.
Argh, the smell of burning oats broke her thoughts. She’d forgotten to stir and the porridge was stuck in big clumps to the bottom of the pan. Swearing, she took the pan off the heat and dumped it in the sink. Toast would have to do.
She took care over the toast and laid it nicely on a tray next to Matilda’s tea. When she knocked at the door, she only just made out the sound of Mat telling her to come in.
‘Morning,’ she said, flouncing into the room with feigned enthusiasm. ‘How are you today?’
‘Fine,’ she said, but Ellie could barely hear the words. It sounded more like the noise a frog would make.
‘What’s wrong?’ Shoving the tray onto the bedside table, Ellie sat on the bed and took Mat’s cold, papery hand in hers.
Mat hesitated a moment, contemplating her answer. Ellie gave her a firm look and she relented. ‘I have a sore throat,’ she admitted, her voice thick and rusty. ‘Need more tissues.’
Ellie glanced at the empty box and the mountain of scrunched-up white on the floor. She tried to keep the horror from her face. ‘Right. I’ll call Dr Bates and see what she recommends. In the meantime, do you think you can manage some toast and tea?’
Mat peered at the tray. ‘What happened to porridge?’
‘Don’t ask.’ Ellie propped some pillows behind her godmother’s back as she struggled to sit upright. She rested the tray on Matilda’s legs and smiled. ‘Dig in, I’ll be right back.’
Outside the bedroom, Ellie let her face and shoulders fall as she slumped against the wall. She rocked forward, her head coming to rest in her hands. This was not good. The prospect of another sickness – and its implications – terrified Ellie. It was all too soon. There were still so many things she wanted to say to Mat – she wanted to thank her more, hear more stories, ask more questions, cherish her opinions and ideas. She needed as many months as possible with Matilda.
The sound of another nose blow reminded Ellie she needed to get on to the doctor ASAP. Anything to help Mat fight off illness would be a godsend. Picking herself up, she sought the telephone and dialled the hospital. The surgery wasn’t open yet, but the nurses said they’d get the message to Dr Bates.
Less than half an hour later, Hannah was listening to Mat’s breathing, checking her blood pressure and doing a variety of other tests. With a beautiful bedside manner the doctor sat and held Matilda’s hand in the same way Ellie had done thirty minutes earlier.
‘You’ve got this ghastly cold that’s going round. I’ll give you some antibiotics, just in case there’s anything underlying it. But basically, the doctor orders bed rest and TLC.’ She smiled at Mat and glanced at Ellie. ‘Is that chicken soup I smell?’
Ellie nodded. ‘I have tonnes of the stuff.’
‘Good. Keep fluids up – water, herbal tea, lemonade, hot chocolate, whatever takes your fancy – and keep warm. Sounds like a contradiction but a little fresh air would do wonders too. If it gets warmer this arvo, rug up and get outside for a while. If not, open the window a fraction.’ The doctor patted Mat’s hand and stood, stooping to collect her bag. ‘I’ll pop by again this afternoon to check on you, but if you have any questions or start to feel worse, get Ellie to call me.’
Ellie saw Dr Bates to the door, thanked her immensely and went back to Mat. ‘Would you like to go into the living room and we can watch a movie?’
‘Thanks.’ Mat’s reply was soft.
They deviated to the bathroom so Matilda could relieve herself, wash her face and brush her teeth. Ellie was happy that she’d managed the tea and half the toast while waiting for the doctor.
‘I’ll just get you settled and then pop down to the pharmacist. Is there anything you need before I go? Anything I can get for you while I’m out?’ She’d be quick. She hated the thought of leaving Mat on her own, even for short periods. Would it be overreacting if she called Joyce to come and watch?
‘I’ll be fine,’ Matilda said, as if she had a hotline to Ellie’s inner thoughts. ‘I like my own company.’
‘Have I been smothering you?’ Ellie asked.
‘Not exactly, my sweet, but you are very … attentive. Why not have yourself a cup of coffee and a nice piece of cake while you’re out. I promise not to move.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Great idea. I’ll get you one of each as well.’
Focused on her medicine mission, Ellie parked the Premier outside the chemist and rushed inside. She went straight to the counter – it was unu
sually quiet – and handed over the prescription. Dr Bates wasn’t too concerned about Mat’s cold, but Ellie agreed it was best not to take any risks.
‘How is Matilda?’ asked the pharmacist, a woman who’d come to Hope Junction as a graduate, met the love of her life and never left.
‘Good and bad,’ replied Ellie. ‘Her spirits are surprisingly high, but she’s caught a nasty cold. It’s so not fair.’
‘Life never is, is it?’ She offered a sympathetic smile and held up the prescription. ‘Let me fill this for you. Won’t be a moment.’
Ellie nodded and stepped back to wait. She picked up a packet of jellybeans as the signal bell at the door jingled. She glanced up, almost dropping the lollies as she registered the figure of Flynn. Their eyes met for the shortest of seconds before they both quickly looked away. Her cheeks flushed and she moved from the counter to let him step up.
Mere metres away, she stared at the creams, nail polish, glossy mags and hair ribbons in front of her, but later she wouldn’t be able to recall any of it. Every cell in her body wanted to turn back, to soak up the essence of Flynn, to take a snapshot in her mind to go alongside all the others. She racked her brain for something to say, any excuse to start a conversation.
‘Hey.’
She jumped at the sound of his voice. Her heart beating wildly, she took a moment before turning around. ‘Hello,’ she answered eventually. It seemed forever since she’d been this close to Flynn.
He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to do with them. He was still illegally gorgeous, and she still had dangerous thoughts whenever he was near. She squeezed her nails into her palms. It was almost impossible to suppress the instinct to reach out and touch him.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, making him the first person (aside from Joyce) who’d asked how she was. Everyone else thought first and foremost of Matilda – and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But the fact he’d thought of her caused a lump to form in her throat.
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