New Beginnings

by Iris Blobel

  Jared’s laughter echoed through the squash court and could have been heard three courts down as well. Mark clutched his towel as well and left the court, with his friend hot on his heels.

  Although his friend’s laughter was contagious, and he felt a wee smile on his face, it wasn’t that funny. Yes, he did feel bad about hanging up on Linda, but why on earth wouldn’t she just get it into her head that he wanted out. Simply out. Move on with someone else. And if it really had been such a big deal for her, why not didn’t she want it earlier?

  Jared’s words pulled him back from his thoughts. “No idea what ya saw in her, anyway,” he said. “Not to mention, I haven’t got a clue what she saw in ya.”

  Mark ignored him.

  “What about the new girl in town?”

  “Jared?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.”

  But he didn’t. He placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Mate, face it. Ya attracted to that girl like a moth to flame. Whether ya like it or not.”

  The men threw their towels over the spare chair when they came to the café, got their bottles of water, and sat down.

  Mark chugged the water in a couple of gulps before he replied, avoiding his friend’s intense stare. “That didn’t work out either. I blew it.”

  Jared shook his head. “Moron,” he said caringly. “And I always thought ya the smart one. Tell me what happened.”

  “She saw me with Linda.”

  Jared spilled his water from laughing. “Loser!”

  Mark told him what had happened at the barbeque and how she’d told him few days earlier about someone else she was seeing.

  “She’s lyin’.”

  “Think?”

  “Yup.” Jared finished his water and stood. “Another follow-up call is what’s needed.”

  Mark grinned as he followed him to the changing rooms. “You’re such idealist.”

  But the follow-up call didn’t sound all that bad.

  How, though? Mark really wanted to see her again. Wanted to explain. He’d go back to his office, try and dig out some more details on Ms. Bellinger. There had to be a connection. Or a bit of information as an excuse for him to see Sophie again. Perhaps another meeting and he’d get over the attraction that kept her at the edge of his mind.

  He was obviously in denial. She’d given him the perfect opportunity to dislike her. Her judgment of him should annoy him and not leave him wanting to call her every minute of the day to explain the situation. Explain about Linda. But most of all, explain how much he’d come to like her. And little Mia.

  “You’re such a pain in the arse sometimes, mate, but your ideas… your ideas aren’t so bad,” he finally said to his friend.

  Jared grinned. “Need me to give you a lift?”

  Mark slapped him onto the shoulder and replied, “Nope. This needs to be approached with a certain sensitivity.”

  “Ever the lawyer.”

  ****

  “I’m pooped,” Mia exclaimed.

  Sophie looked across the table at her younger sister. Her eyelids did indeed seem heavy that night.

  “Early bed?”

  The little girl hugged her sister. “No shower though, please,” Mia begged.

  It had been a rather tiring day. After their few weeks in Hobart, Sophie had enough money left in the piggy bank to do something to explore their new hometown. They had decided to board the touristy Double Decker Tour Bus, which led them to a few interesting places like the museums, the local brewery, and the beautiful Botanical Gardens. With ice cream as a treat and lunch at the Gardens, it had been a full, packed day. No wonder Mia was tired. Sophie was as well.

  After dinner, they went through their routine, alas without the shower, and the little girl was in bed earlier than usual. Sophie didn’t even make it past two pages of the bedtime story when she heard the familiar soft snoring next to her. Carefully she stood, switched off the light, and left her sister to her dreams. She went back into the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea, and left the mess for the next day.

  Passing her study, she took one of the diaries and sat in the old rocking chair next to the lounge room fireplace. It had turned cold in Hobart, and deep inside she missed the warm weather in Sydney. Only for a small second, though. Life was just too good at the very southern end of the vast Australian land. Still unsure about her feelings, or lack of them, for Zach, she quietly thanked him for showing her how to light the fire efficiently. It was nice. She loved the sound of the wood crackling and the play of the lights the fire created in the room.

  Sophie imagined dear old — or had she been young? — Ms. Bellinger. She knew nothing about her, except that she was Mr. Schuster’s ex-wife. She leaned back with a deep sigh and imagined Ms. Bellinger, sitting here in front of the fire reading a magazine, or even knitting for… probably some child in the neighbourhood or the local market. She must have been a knitter, because Sophie had found oodles of wool in the spare room. A choked sigh escaped from Sophie’s lips, thinking about the fate of their lives. Her father leaving them when she was very young, Mia’s father unknown, and their mother dead in a terrible accident only a few years ago.

  Left with nothing and no one, except a wonderful and generous woman called Ms. Bellinger, who had added them in her will to leave them her house. Sophie just had to make an effort to find out why she would leave the house to them.

  Or should she?

  Sophie stood and walked back to her desk. Half-heartedly, she looked through the paperwork and then sat down on the desk chair. No more delays. She needed to study to catch up with her homework. There was a lot of money invested in that course, and she needed to do it right.

  Rubbing her hands over her face, trying to rub away the tiredness, she remembered Mark’s words: So why don’t you study something you like?

  Mark.

  He’d rung earlier that day and left a message to come in and see him in his office. Her feelings for him were such a mess, she was afraid they wouldn’t subside in just a few days. Resting her elbow on the desk, she leaned her head into the palm of her hand and smiled. She had met two men within ten days of her arrival here in Hobart and had become acutely fond of both of them.

  Zach was her neighbour, looking after her, thanks again to the lovely Ms. Bellinger. Or was he more? Could it ever be more, considering the way he earned his money?

  And Mark. She still had to work on that one, because she had genuinely liked him, and after all his help, he deserved an apology, as well as a chance to tell his side of the story.

  Exhaling a long breath as she pushed that thought aside. Her gaze moved back to the desk — Certificate in Children’s Services. That was what she had to focus on right now.

  Not men. Neither of them. She had survived all these years without the touch of a man she sure as hell would be fine for another little while.

  And photography had to wait as well.

  A solid foundation for a steady income was her goal. Her heart needed to be muted.

  But she was too tired to focus, so instead she flicked through some of Ms. Bellinger’s diaries. Her hands trembled at the touch of the old paper. An odd sensation caressed the tip of her fingers, making her feel as if she betrayed the woman by reading her private details. Or were they secrets? Yet, the more Sophie read about her daily life, the more she felt drawn to her. It was like an intimate way of getting to know her. She bit her lip to stifle a grin when she read Clara’s first impressions on meeting Zach. She arched an eyebrow at the few lines expressing certain physical desires regarding her neighbour, but then decided to skip that page. Her jaw tensed, reading the words about Clara’s husband’s betrayal.

  The emotions, the pain, and the sense of failure, as Clara had never been able to have children. Such a dud of a man. And then, she read about the reason for the divorce.

  Her mouth became dry. Tears welled up, and she re-read the pages again and again. Chills ran through her, willi
ng her brain to compute the words in front of her. Willing them to mean what she thought they would.

  “Oh my God!” she whispered.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Saying that Sophie was extremely tired the following day was an understatement. She hadn’t been able to shut one eye that night, unsure whether to be excited to know the truth about Mia’s father at last or to be relieved to have finally found that part of her puzzle. But she was also frustrated and disappointed that the person connecting herself and Mia to Ms. Bellinger had never told her of the connection.

  Her own mother.

  There was an urge to tell someone. Of course, there was. After all, it’d been something she’d always wondered about subconsciously. She thought of talking to Zach, but he was still in Sydney.

  No way, she would tell Mia until she was one hundred percent sure about her discovery. Well, she knew. But did the girl have to know as well?

  In the end, she’d had rung Kristen, explained the situation without actually to go into details, and asked if she could bring Mia over to her house so that Sophie could go talk to Mark. Fortunately, Kristen was more than happy to help. Apparently, her boys were killing each other.

  Once she’d disconnected the call, she’d rung Mark straight away and asked him to come over, instead of her coming into the office on Monday. It took a little bit of sweet talking, but in the end, he agreed. She had no idea why he was so difficult that morning.

  After dropping off her sister, she quickly made herself a cup of tea and forced herself to calm down. There was no time to worry about why Mark had been so abrupt on the phone. There was no time to worry whether it might be a mistake. She was sick of worrying she’d wake up one day with everything gone. Grabbing her tea, she headed into the lounge room, sat down, and waited for Mark. She had to hold on to her cup with both hands, her hands moist from anxiety, as she waited for him. So ridiculously tense, she startled when she heard the sound of the car door shut outside.

  For God sake, she had to relax.

  She stood and made her way to the front door, opening it before he’d even had a chance to knock. Mark gave her a hesitant peck on the cheek, and instant heat rushed through her. Sophie had missed him so much. And he looked so damn sexy in his jeans, which hung loose on his long legs and low on his hips, and a long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a plain white T-shirt. How was she supposed to stay focussed?

  “Cuppa?” she offered cautiously.

  He nodded. “Where’s Mia?” he asked, as he followed her into the kitchen.

  With shaking hands, she turned on the kettle and got the cups.

  “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He came closer, and when she turned, Mark stood right in front of her.

  Raking her hand through her hair, she lifted her head and studied him thoughtfully. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Mark swiped a hand down his face before he let out a deep sigh. Gently pushing her aside, he finished pouring the cups of tea for them. “Let’s move into the lounge.”

  They sat at their now usual spots, Sophie on the couch and Mark opposite her on the coffee table. With his elbows on his knees, he looked her straight into her eyes.

  His lips curved with tenderness. “Honey, where’s Mia?”

  “With Kristen.”

  He gave a slow nod. “So how about you have a sip of your tea, or even the whole cup if necessary, and try to relax?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Mark!”

  Missing the point, he grinned mischievously.

  “I said I’m sorry!”

  His voice was still calm. “Sweetheart, I heard, but let’s deal with the other problem first.”

  Nervously, she moistened her dry lips. “This is important to me as well,” she replied, her voice shaky even to herself.

  He took her hands into his and gently caressed her palms with his thumbs. Raising his eyes only to find her watching him, he said, “There’s no need for apologies. I just hope there’s no one else, because there’s no one else for me.”

  She removed her hands out of his and placed them on his cheeks. Shaking her head, she met his gaze. “Nobody. I was just hurt and… jealous… and a bit immature.”

  And wasn’t that was the understatement of the day. She closed her eyes, thinking about how she’d kissed Zach. However, he was right, and she’d focus on that little glitch later. Much later, because currently she was so confused and her feelings were a complete jumble mumble.

  “And you’re refreshingly honest. And beautiful.”

  If only he knew. She was close to tears.

  She leaned forward and kissed him. Nothing overly romantic, but a kiss. She broke too quickly, but had to tell him her news.

  “I know how we’re connected to Clara Catherine Bellinger,” she spoke eagerly.

  “I know. That’s why you asked me to come here.” His voice was chuckling and hearty.

  Still with her hands on his cheeks and her face close to him, she told him about the diaries. His facial expression changed to wariness at the mention of Zach, but she ignored it. Words tumbled out of her mouth, details of how Zach remembered about the attic his idea and helped to check it out, finding the diaries, and finally what she had actually discovered by reading them.

  “I feel pretty lousy, though, snooping through someone else’s diaries.”

  There they were again, the dimples on his face as he chuckled.

  “It’s not really funny, Mark.”

  With a deep sigh, he took her hands and kissed the inside of her palms. “I can’t confirm your story, but I am sure Darren Schuster was your mother’s boss at the chocolate factory.”

  “We knew that already, Mark.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Mum always called him Brown Bear. He was nice and cuddly from a distance, but vicious up close.” Sophie lounged back into the couch. “I’m not sure whether I really want to know, or if I can live here now that I do.”

  “Sweetheart.” He placed his finger under her chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Sophie, listen to me. I’ve got his phone number, and if you would like to, he’s expecting your call.”

  Her eyes shot open. “No way? Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I took the liberty to call him this afternoon.”

  Sophie stared at him. “You did what?” she asked just above a whisper.

  “You will need to talk to him. He’s the one connecting your mother to Clara Bellinger.”

  Eyes still wide open, she continued to stare at him. He must have sensed her concern so he added, “Please, Sophie, you need to make this phone call.”

  A heavy feeling settled in her chest. Fear and dread blanketed it. Her stomach tensed at the thought of calling him. Dizziness spreading through her that after all those years wondering, she’d finally found out about her sister’s father.

  How much was she like him? What would his voice be like? Would he have any interest in Mia?

  Her heart raced a marathon at the thought. All of a sudden she wondered whether knowing was better or worse.

  Appreciating his patience, she finally looked up at him after what must have seemed like an eternity and gave a nod. “Let’s do it.”

  Mark held out his hand, and although hesitating placing her hand into his, she came up with a small smile to assure him it wasn’t because of him.

  With her heart pounding so hard in her chest, she followed him into the kitchen where the phone station was located. He picked up the phone, but when he didn’t start to tap the number, she looked up at him.

  “Let’s sit down for this. You look like you’re about to say hello to your breakfast.”

  A nervous chuckle escaped her. “I’m kind of petrified here.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll be fine.”

  Sophie bit her lip as she nodded towards the phone. “I hope so.”

  She returned to the lounge room with Mark and sat on the couch with the phone on her lap. As she wa
ited for the connection to go through, she wiped her wet palms on her pants.

  Darren Schuster’s voice over the phone’s speakers was low as he identified himself and then answered all of Mark’s questions.

  When she finally spoke, Sophie’s voice sounded croaky and fragile despite her best efforts to come across confident. “This is Sophie, Mr. Schuster.”

  There was a moment of silence before he responded. “How do you do, Sophie?”

  Mark placed his arm around her waist and steadied her.

  “I’m not sure. It’s been quite some weeks for us. Actually, make that years.”

  “I’m truly sorry about your mother.” His voice was still calm and courteous.

  “Are you Mia’s father, Mr. Schuster?” One of her hand grabbed Mark’s shirt. She needed to hold onto something. She hadn’t intended to be so abrupt and regretted her words instantly. But it was what was on her mind. Yet, now that she’d asked the question, she was too afraid whether she wanted to know. One of the final pieces of her puzzle, yet in her mind the puzzle looked complete even without that last bit.

  Blinking a few tears back, she turned towards Mark and seeing a comforting wink made her smile. A small smile, but it was there. He was there for her as well. As she gazed into Mark’s eyes, she almost missed the answer. It was a quiet and hastily muttered “yes.”

  Yes.

  Such a small word. Her last piece of the puzzle. She closed her eyes.

  Yes.

  She imagined the puzzle in front of her — did it look any different now?

  Her breathing became more rapid before a male voice cut through her thoughts.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?” Mark asked.

  She shook her head slightly.

  “Mr. Schuster? Why did your ex-wife leave us the house?”

  He cleared his throat and when he spoke, it was clear and almost without any emotions. “She found out about your mother and me. But it was just another one on the list for her, and she turned a blind eye to my affairs. When Clara found out about the pregnancy, she threw a fit. Anyway, late last year she contacted me and told me about the cancer she was fighting, but also that she had found out your mother had died. I think it was through some priest that she got hold of your details and situation.”