‘So you did report him, then?’
‘You know he had an accident a few months ago?’
‘No.’ She frowned. ‘Nobody told me about that.’
‘It was only minor. No other driver was involved, and your father’s injury was superficial, but what concerned me was his description of the accident. He was very confused about how it had happened.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘So you’ve noticed cognitive changes?’
She nodded. ‘Is it dementia?’
‘I can’t answer that question without a proper examination. I asked him to make an appointment, but to date, he hasn’t.’
‘No, and he’s not likely to either.’
‘Perhaps you could help? If you could suggest a physical reason for him to visit, such as having his blood pressure checked, he might be more willing, and while he’s here I can give him a full examination. There are other reasons for cognitive changes besides dementia – some vitamin deficiencies and hormone disorders, depression, medication clashes, infections, brain tumours – and I would want to rule those out first.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll do my best to get him here.’
He smiled. ‘Normal ageing generally results in some level of decline in sensory, perceptual, cognitive, psychomotor and physical functioning and, therefore, also in driving skills, so in any event, I think it would be sensible for him to undergo an on-road driving test.’
‘Yes, I agree. I haven’t noticed the same changes in Mum. Well, she’s a bit more forgetful nowadays, but she’s only as crazy as she’s always been.’
He wrote a name and phone number on a small pad, and tore off the page. ‘I think they’re both characters, your parents. There aren’t enough people like them around, in my opinion.’ He smiled again as he handed her the scrap of paper.
‘Oh. Thank you.’ She reached for it, then winced at the sudden movement.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Cracked rib.’ She took a slow breath in.
‘Do you want me to look at it?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve been to hospital. I’ve got painkillers. I just need to be more careful to avoid jarring it.’
‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘So, are you going to register as a patient here?’
‘No. I’m only in town temporarily. I’ll be gone in a few weeks, and I don’t intend to need a doctor again.’
He rose and escorted her to the door. ‘Well, it was good to meet you. I do hope you can persuade your father to come and see me.’
She was on her way out of the clinic when she heard Blair’s voice, and looked to her right. ‘What are you doing here?’
He held up a prescription before folding it and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. ‘Picking up a repeat for Mrs Thompson, your neighbour.’
‘Why?’
He lifted his eyebrows. ‘She’s running out of her medicine. She needs some more.’
‘Yes, I get that, but why you?’
‘Why not? Not everybody in town hates me, you know.’
No, she got that as well.
He held the external door open and gestured for her to go ahead of him. Outside, he said, ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Are your ribs giving you trouble?’
‘No. Well, no more than usual as long as I don’t make any sudden movements. I came to ask Dr Whitworth about my parents. Remember the letter about the driving test?’
He nodded. ‘Did talking to the doctor help?’
‘Yes, he gave me the info I needed to arrange the test, but I have to convince Dad to come and see him.’
‘Does he think there might be a problem?’
‘Possibly, but it could be any of a number of things.’ She bit her lip. ‘Or just normal ageing.’
After a moment’s silence he asked, ‘How are you getting home?’
She grimaced. She hadn’t thought of that when she’d got Travis to drop her off at the surgery. ‘I’ll phone for a taxi.’
‘You’ll be waiting for a while. Or you could come with me. I have to go to the chemist for Mrs Thompson, but that won’t take long. Then we could have a gentle stroll by the river, if you like. It’s a great day for it.’
He was right, it was a great day, and she’d love a walk by the river. A slow one wouldn’t be too painful. She went around to the passenger side of his car where she waited for him to open the door.
Blair parked the car outside the chemist, and Nicola waited while he went inside. When he returned to the car a few minutes later, he opened her door and helped her out. They crossed the road and followed the path to the River Way, leaving the street behind.
‘I hate these things,’ he said after a few minutes.
She looked up to see him gesturing at the exercise equipment at the side of the path. ‘What’s to hate?’
‘They look so incongruous. They’re completely out of place in this natural setting.’
He did have a point.
‘You wouldn’t catch me using them,’ he said.
‘But then you don’t need to.’
He gave her a quizzical look, and she turned away. She’d made it sound like she’d ogled his body. Which she had, of course. ‘I mean, you get plenty of exercise from digging in the garden, don’t you?’
‘Yes, that’s true. Dragonflies,’ he said, gesturing at the river.
‘I love dragonflies.’
‘Shall we stop here? Sit for a while?’
She nodded, and made for a bench between the path and the river. ‘Dad used to call them helicopters,’ she said when they were settled. ‘Una never liked them, though. She thought they were trying to eat her when they flew at her.’ She fell silent, smiling as she remembered those days.
He gave her a curious look. ‘You’re smiling for a change.’
‘I smile. I smile a lot.’
He made no comment, but one eyebrow rose.
‘I do.’ She shrugged and gazed at the river. She really did like this place and she’d be sad to leave it behind. Not that there weren’t plenty of water views in Sydney, but they weren’t the same. This place held good memories. ‘Dad used to bring us both here to fish. I always caught more than she did.’
‘Ah, good old sibling rivalry.’
‘Dad was a great teacher. He taught us everything he knew about fishing. He probably wished he’d had sons, but instead he got lumbered with two daughters.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t see it that way, and I’m glad to hear you say something positive about one of your parents, at least. It makes a change. I think you take them too seriously. You should try to see the funny side of what they say instead of hating them for embarrassing you.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t hate them. Well, there have been times …’ After a pause she said, ‘Why do you care, anyway?’
Sighing, he said, ‘I feel sort of responsible.’
‘You?’
‘I never meant you to take the teasing to heart the way you did.’
‘Well, of course I did. The last thing a teenage girl needs is to be the butt of someone’s jokes.’
‘I’m starting to see that.’
About bloody time, she thought. Aloud she said, ‘Do you even remember that poem I wrote? The one you and your mates laughed at?’
Blair nodded.
‘You weren’t meant to see it. It was utterly private, between me and the page. How would you have liked it if someone had caught you drawing, or painting, and passed your work around for everyone to make fun of?’
His head dropped, his chin touching his chest. ‘Lousy.’
‘See? Only it was worse for me, because you could draw, where as my poem was garbage—’
‘It wasn’t so bad.’
‘It was, but let me finish,’ she said. ‘I know I looked a mess, I had parents who did crazy things, and I was stupid enough to fall in love with one of the cool guys.’
His head jerked up. ‘In love?’
Her cheeks hot, she said, ‘It was a ridiculous crus
h. I didn’t know any better. But you read the poem; you know that.’
‘I didn’t read it, to be honest. Someone shoved it under my nose, and gave me a rough-guide version. Rough being the operative word. I reacted the way I did because …’
‘Because you despised me.’
‘No! Not that. Not at all.’
She waited.
‘Because I didn’t want you getting any ideas about me. You were too nice, too good to get involved with me. ‘
She gave a grunt of disbelief.
‘It’s true.’ He sighed. ‘There were reasons, okay? Things I don’t want to go into.’
She turned to look at him. ‘Reasons? What sort of reasons?’
‘Didn’t I just say that I didn’t want to go into them?’
‘What reasons?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m going to regret opening my mouth. You’re not going to let it drop, are you?’
‘What do you think?’
He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands joined. He swore in a low voice, but just loud enough for her to hear. ‘Some of this stuff … I’ve never told anyone.’
Intrigued, she kept quiet, letting him continue in his own time.
He took a deep breath. ‘My father skipped town when I was ten.’
She vaguely remembered that his father hadn’t been around much, but she’d never known the Morrissey family very well– he could have been working away on a remote mine site, or driving trucks, or anything. She definitely hadn’t realised that he’d left his wife and kids.
‘My mother … was already drinking heavily when he left, in fact, I think that was what drove him away. Afterwards, she deteriorated. Over the years she became barely able to care for herself, let alone her kids.’
‘Oh.’ Frowning, she said, ‘So who looked after you?’
He hesitated, then looked up at her. ‘I didn’t want the three of us to be split up, and I knew that if anybody outside the family found out what our home life was like, we’d be taken into care, and I might never see my brother and sister again.’
She stared.
‘That’s what happens, isn’t it? Foster parents don’t want three kids from the one family, do they?’
‘Well, I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.’
‘No. That would be because you had two great parents. You had a secure childhood. You didn’t live in fear of someone coming to the door and finding your mother passed out on the kitchen floor. I thought about it, though. I thought about it a lot.’ He stood, strode towards the river and shoved his hands in his pockets.
After several seconds, he turned and climbed the slope back to the bench. As he sat he said, ‘Sorry. Just needed a moment there. You were embarrassed by your parents, but seriously, you had nothing to worry about. I would have given anything to have parents like yours. A father to take us kids fishing. A mother to bake us shortbread.’
A massive lump lodged in her throat.
‘They might be eccentric, your parents, but at least they always loved you, and took care of you.’
Her voice didn’t sound like her own when she said, ‘You’re telling me that nobody looked after the three of you?’
‘I learned how to cook – the basics, anyway, and how to do the laundry so that my brother and sister would look decent when they went to school, and the teachers wouldn’t suspect there was anything wrong.’
‘Oh, my God, but you were only ten.’
‘It didn’t happen suddenly. At first she was still functioning some of the time. I only had to pick up the slack. It wasn’t till I was about fourteen that I more or less took over running the house.’
‘You did it all by yourself?’
He pulled a face. ‘Not very well.’
‘But well enough that you got away with it? No one ever suspected?’
He nodded.
‘Blair … I don’t know what to say.’
He looked at her. ‘I think that’s the first time you’ve used my name.’
Nicola didn’t respond, she was too busy trying to reconcile the memories she had of Blair as one of the most popular boys in school with this new knowledge – that when he wasn’t at school he was cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry– and finding it difficult to accept. But no wonder he knew how to make a mean breakfast. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘Never mind. I didn’t tell you all this to make you pity me; I told you to make you understand why I couldn’t allow you to get any ideas about me back then. I couldn’t risk having a girlfriend. Not a nice girl like you who would expect to come to my house, to meet my parents, be invited for tea and all the rest of the stuff that goes with being boyfriend and girlfriend. It wasn’t a risk I could take. But if things had been different, Nicki, I would have dated you like a shot.’
For once, she didn’t correct him for shortening her name. ‘Would you?’
He nodded. ‘Like a shot. You were beautiful.’
A shudder trickled down her spine. She had to take a breath before she said, ‘I looked like a nerd.’
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. ‘I paint portraits for a living. I know about beauty.’
She managed a shaky smile. ‘Well, if that’s the case, I wish I’d known.’
‘But that was the best thing about you. You weren’t like those girls who were beautiful and knew it. You were … different.’
‘You’ve got that right.’
‘Nicki,’ he said, his expression serious. ‘Now that you know why I behaved the way I did as a kid, do you think we could start again? Maybe do that dating thing we missed out on in school?’
She stared. Not even he would attempt to lure her into saying yes in order to laugh at her, she was sure, not after sharing his childhood secret. Which meant that his question was serious. She’d have sworn that Sydney Harbour would freeze over before this would happen.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t do that.’
His face became blank.
‘I’ll be leaving soon.’
‘So you’re still planning to go?’
‘Yes. Nothing’s changed.’
‘Nothing. I thought—’ He broke off, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. ‘No, I see.’
‘I am sorry for what happened to you—’
‘No,’ he said with an impatient headshake. ‘I don’t want your sympathy. If you’re ready, I should be getting back with Mrs Thompson’s medicine.’
‘Oh. Sure.’ Her chest ached as they walked back to the car in silence, and it wasn’t because of her ribs.
Dating Blair would not be sensible. What she’d heard today hadn’t changed the simple fact that Blair represented risk. For once, she wanted to be sensible and safe. She’d had quite enough of being hurt, and scammed, and ripped off.
She watched the familiar streetscape go by as Blair drove her home.
No, she couldn’t date him, couldn’t get involved with him, that would be asking for trouble, but she didn’t hate him any longer either. How could she hate him now that she knew he’d suffered through high school every bit as much as she had, but for very different reasons.
If his homelife had been happy, well, everything might have been different for her too, because if she’d been his girlfriend, nobody would have dared to tease her. And if she hadn’t been teased about her parents, would she have had such a problem with them herself?
Maybe. Maybe not. Blair was right, as was Dr Whitmore, and Lainey too. They were colourful characters, but there was no real harm in them, and she’d been a lot better off than Blair. She hadn’t appreciated the loving home she had.
It was finally time to grow up and put the hurt of her teenage years behind her. It helped, she had to admit, to know that he hadn’t found her repulsive, that his rejection had not been about her.
Yes, it was time to move on.
Chapter 17
‘Blair Morrissey asked about you. I saw him over there.’ Lainey jerked her head back towards the
bar as she placed their drinks on the table.
‘What did he say? Where is he?’ Nicola scanned The Pelican’s Friday night crowd.
‘He was leaning against the wall and giving someone a right old nasty glare.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know. I couldn’t see.’
‘What did he say about me?’
‘He wanted to know who you were with.’
‘You told him it was just us two, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but he didn’t want to join us.’
Nicola wasn’t surprised. ‘So, what’s happening? You said you had something to tell me tonight.’
‘Daniel said he wants to come home.’
Nicola gasped. ‘You’re not going to take him back, are you?’
She shook her head miserably. ‘I’m not sure. It’s only been a couple of months since he left, but I seem to have changed already. I was so sure that I loved him when he left. Since then, though, that feeling has just sort of faded. And now he’s offering me what I thought I wanted more than anything, and I’m in two minds about it.’
‘That’s not so surprising,’ Nicola said. ‘When he did what he did, he killed your love for him.’
‘You might be right.’
‘I never wanted you to take him back. I hate what he did to you, and I don’t think he deserves another chance.’
‘But there’s more to think about than just what he did and what he deserves. There’s Rosie. I feel I should give him a chance for her sake. I shouldn’t deprive her of a father just because I might have fallen out of love with him.’ She dropped her head into her hands.
‘I know I’m no expert, but I reckon you have to ask yourself whether Rosie deserves a happy mother who’s a positive role model.’
‘She does. Of course she does.’
‘Then you have to do whatever it is that would make you happy. Can you see yourself being happy with Daniel in the long term?’
Lainey groaned. ‘It’s such a responsibility. I was happy with Daniel until I found out that he’d been thinking about another woman the whole time we’d been married. I don’t know whether I’d ever be able to get over that, but I could probably fake it for Rosie’s sake.’
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