I nodded, head bent.
“Well I don’t have the guts,” he bit out. “I couldn’t look at a stethoscope now without going to water. I’m not the man to hitch your wagon to, Virginia. Though god knows I wish I were.”
I knew there was no point in trying to change his mind tonight. I understood his fears and sympathised with him. “Let’s not talk about the future now,” I said soothingly, snuggling against him again. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company while we can.”
“You’re right,” he said, his lips warm against my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
I felt his hand grip mine, felt it being placed urgently against his cock, throbbing against the zip of his jeans.
“I want you so much,” he groaned. “But tell me if you’re tired.”
“I could never get tired of you,” I murmured, sinking back and pulling him down over me, feeling my body open to him, petal by petal.
“Magnus,” I said when we woke, entwined on the sand in the morning, the sky rose-pink all around us, the puppy in the crook of my knees.
“Mmm?” he questioned, his lips curling into a smile.
“I must talk to you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s just occurred to me that I, we, haven’t been using any protection.”
“Do you think you could be pregnant?” he asked eagerly.
“I don’t know. I’m thirty-five. I…”
He grinned like a boy who’d been given a new football as a surprise. “The perfect age!” he laughed. Then, in a slightly professional tone he asked, “Do you feel different?”
“Before I tell you, would you be angry if I were?”
“Angry,” he asked, still grinning. “Angry’d be the last thing I’d be.”
“You’d be pleased?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a father. Always. I never thought I’d be lucky enough. Now tell me: do you feel different?”
I wriggled into a sitting position. “My breasts are tingling,” I told him, almost passing out with bliss as he took one in each hand and bent to suck them, one at a time, tugging at the swollen nipples.
“Are they still tingling?” he asked mischievously, his lips rounding over the rosy flesh.
“I’m in heaven,” I whispered.
We made love again, lazily, slowly, and he said, “If you’re not pregnant after all this, I’ll be amazed. You make me feel like a stud.”
“You feel like one to me too,” I giggled. “But seriously, a baby doesn’t fit into your plans, does it?”
“Just a little while ago I told you I have nothing to offer you, no bright future, which is what you deserve. But if you’re about to be a mother, everything changes. You can’t bring up a child on your own. And I think I’d make a good Dad, if you’d let me. A baby is such a life-affirming miracle that nothing else matters,” he assured me, stroking my belly. Then, putting his lips over its slightly more roundedness, he called softly, “Are you in there, baby?”
“I think, if I am pregnant, that it happened in York,” I told him. “I’ve missed a period already and the next is due soon.”
“We could get a pregnancy test in one of the pharmacies in Albany today,” he said excitedly. “Or do you want to wait a little longer?”
“I’m not sure,” I mused. “I’ll be disappointed if I’m not having a baby. Devastated actually. So I don’t think I want to know, just yet. I’d like to keep believing there is somebody inside me until evidence to the contrary. Is that okay with you?”
“Whatever’s best for you is best for me,” he said, hugging me again.
I’d never known such joy as the next week brought and Magnus told me he felt the same. We had the perfect little beach all to ourselves and swam naked. The whole world seemed fresh and new, from the shells and corals, starfish and anemones in the rock pools to the flat, rippling grace of a stingray cruising in the shallows. We were so happy that we never once discussed going anywhere else and we never mentioned plans for the short time left of our holiday together.
The puppy’s natural ability in the gentle waves astonished us. We called her Maggie and she swam eagerly between us, her permanently wagging tail acting as a rudder. All day we read, fished, ate and lazed under the peppermint trees. At night, Magnus built a fire and we sat around it under doonas, talking and drinking wine until we could wait no longer and would make love as if the whole day had been merely the prelude to this most important event. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.
One afternoon the weather broke. The blue sky became streaked with fluffy white clouds that turned grey, then black by evening. The breeze became a gale, forcing us inside Matilda where we huddled, listening to the snapping of branches and the roar of the waves. Then the rain came. It was tentative and we welcomed it at first. But soon it gushed from the sky, rivulets streaming into the van between miniscule cracks in window and door frames. Leaves, twigs and sand flung through the air, blasting Matilda and coating the windows so we could hardly see outside. The Kombi rocked and swayed and, when Magnus looked out with his torch having wiped a clean patch on the glass outside, he was concerned to see that the clearing in which he’d parked was becoming a boggy pool.
“I think I’ll try to move us onto higher ground,” he shouted above the wind. “We may be in for a rough ride. Hang on!”
He turned the key in the ignition and the old van shuddered to life. When he put his foot on the accelerator, Matilda lurched into the mud, sending mugs, glasses and books smashing onto the floor.
“I’ll try again!” he called.
Magnus, from years of driving utes and tractors on his father’s farm, was more than capable behind a steering wheel. But his experience wasn’t helping now and he felt that the van’s wheels were slipping further into the mud.
“I’ll get out and put something solid under the tyres,” he yelled.
“I’ll help you,” I answered, shutting Maggie inside while I climbed out into the storm with Magnus.
Only one wheel was bogged. I ran to fetch a plank of wood I’d noticed under a tree in the clearing, icy needles of skin pricking my skin and seeping into my jumper. With Magnus’ strength, we were able to slide the plank under the wheel and we both climbed inside again.
The ocean was galloping up the beach, swamping the clean white sand on which we’d lived. I was scared it would reach the van if we couldn’t move her.
Chapter Eleven
Magnus coaxed the van forward, easing his foot gently down on the pedal to urge the smallest movement from the vehicle. Matilda obliged and he headed her for the high, open farmland surrounding the peaceful bay. The van twisted, skidded and slipped on the steep, winding bush track. At last, he brought her to a halt on the very edge of the bush, a green paddock separated from it by a vicious-looking barbed-wire fence.
We peered into the darkness, arcing the torch.
“I hope your little car will be okay down there,” he remarked, his hand on Maggie’s silky muzzle.
“I’d parked slightly higher up than you,” I said, hoping to reassure us both.
We watched the storm in awe, Maggie jumping when a particularly big spear of lightning streaked the blackness, followed by a deafening crash of thunder that rocked the van and sent the whimpering puppy into Magnus’ arms.
“Do you think we’re safe?” I asked, wondering what would happen if we got hit.
“We’ll be fine,” he promised. “We’re not close to any trees.” He pulled me nearer so that the three of us huddled together as the tumult raged.
“I’m glad you came,” he added. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed this on my own.”
“Are you really happy I’m pregnant?” I asked, taking advantage of the darkness that meant he couldn’t see the anxiety in my face. “You weren’t just saying that you were because there’d be nothing I could do about it if I were?”
He tightened his hold of me as he answered, “I’m going to be the happiest man in the world if I discover that you’re carryi
ng our child, Virginia.” Gently he rubbed my belly. “I’ve wanted my own daughter or son for so long, but it was a dream I thought would never come true. I believed that babies were blessings other men received, never me. And I promise you I’ll be devastated if the pregnancy test is negative. You’ll have a crying, helpless baby on your hands then – me.”
I kissed him deeply, loving the way his tongue made itself welcome in my mouth and gave me a quick, delicious taste of him. I reveled in the closeness of our new bond. “I don’t want to tempt fate, but I really do think I’m going to have our child,” I promised. “I’ve been feeling very different. Not sick exactly, just…” I searched for a way to describe it and continued, “Just magic. As if something exciting is happening inside me.”
“And it is. Right now cells are dividing and thousands of other microscopic changes are taking place in your body. All because I love you.”
I didn’t say “I love you too.” Instead, I slid my hand between his legs and caressed the gorgeous bulge that brought us both so much pleasure.
“I want to make love to you right now,” he said huskily, “But I have a feeling I’m going to need to have my wits about me for this storm.”
I agreed. Gum nuts were pelting down on Matty’s roof and the whole van shook in some of the gusts of wind. We could topple at any time, I thought.
“Did I tell you that Peta and Josh are back together?” I asked him a few minutes later, hoping to pass the time and distract ourselves with conversation.
“No you didn’t. It’s great news, specially for Bree.”
“Yeah. She needs both of them, more than ever.” I chuckled. “I wonder how we’ll cope with a teenager? We’ll be ancient then and probably a lot less tolerant than we are now.”
“We’ll be able to keep order by battering him or her with our walking frames,” he joked.
Two hours later we were almost disappointed to realise the tempest was blowing itself out.
“We’re lucky Matty wasn’t damaged,” Magnus said.
“Don’t speak too soon!” I warned as we heard the dangerously close crack, hiss and sizzle of a massive fork of lightning. It was so bright it lit the dark interior like a neon light, throwing our taut, anxious faces into sharp focus. Silence followed, then terrible sounds, outside, of an animal in anguish.
“What could that be?” I asked, horrified.
“Sounds like a horse,” Magnus answered, his voice low, his head on one side to listen.
“We have to go and help,” I said, springing to my feet.
Magnus stood too, wrapping the puppy in a blanket and leaving her on his mattress. He took a torch and we stepped down from the van into the drizzle.
The wind had disappeared, leaving an unnatural calm. Even the lightning was diffident and the thunder was a mere growl in the distance. It was if Mother Nature was ashamed of herself.
The horse screamed in agony as we ran towards its cries. I wondered what on Earth we would be able to do if we were able to find it in the dark.
“Here,” Magnus called. He’d powered ahead with his long strides. He swung the torch so I could find him.
I reached him, panting, and gasped at the horror of what we’d found. A big horse, terrified of the storm, had dashed itself against the wire fence and was trapped. Its fine legs were streaming blood and there was a long gash across its chest, from which scarlet liquid pumped.
“What will we do?” I breathed, almost faint.
“I wish I had a gun,” Magnus said.
“Could we free it, at least?” I stroked the terrified animal’s nose and knew I was calming it, or it was so weak from blood-loss that it had almost given up fighting against the wire.
Every so often though, it made a frantic effort to break free, only causing itself to become more entwined. Its terrified, pained eyes pleaded silently with us to do something.
I stayed close to the sweating, blood-soaked head of the mare, rubbing her neck in the soft place under the mane, whispering her to be still, assuring her we’d help.
“I ‘ll do my best,” Magnus said. “But I can’t promise anything. I’ll get my gear.”
He ran to Matty and I heard him reassuring the puppy that we weren’t far away and telling her to go back to sleep. Then he was back with the van’s tool kit and a brown leather doctor’s bag. My heart leapt. I hadn’t realised he’d had his bag with him all along.
“Keep stroking her, Virginia, you’re doing a fine job,” he said soothingly. “It’s important she stays still. I’ve brought some wire cutters and I’m going to try to release her. Meanwhile, push hard with this towel against that cut on her neck. She’s losing a lot of blood and we have to try to staunch the flow or she’ll weaken and die. Once she’s free, I’m going to stitch her wounds.”
He angled the torch from the fork of a tree so he could see what he was doing. Patiently, he cut all the wires that held the horse until at last I was able to coax her out of the tangle that lay harmless under her hooves. By now, the horse’s blood, pumping under the towel, was oozing between my fingers.
“Now I’m going to administer some local anaesthetic so I can stitch that bad rip,” Magnus said. “Keep pressing the towel hard against her.”
Expertly, he injected her and began to suture the jagged wound while I stroked the mare reassuringly.
I was amazed at how quickly and neatly he mended the tear, moving onto several other smaller cuts on the mare’s legs.
“You’re wonderful,” I whispered when he’d finished and I’d run to the van for a bucket of water for the dehydrated mare. “I’d no idea you had your doctor’s bag here, in Matilda.”
“I didn’t want to leave it at Daisy’s in case Fergus found it,” he explained. “It was too dangerous not to bring it.”
“You’re a brilliant doctor,” I said, still stroking the mare. “And you seemed completely relaxed and competent, doing what you just did.”
“I must admit, a part of me enjoyed it,” he smiled, putting away the last of his equipment in the bag. “I needed to ease her pain. That’s what motivated me.” As he tossed the wire cutters into the tool kit he added in a surprised voice, “Perhaps I’m ready to go back to medicine, after all. But I couldn’t have done it without you being here, Virginia. Have you beside me, calming the horse, calmed me as well.”
“I’ll always be around, if you want me to be,” I said.
He grinned, the torch-like making him appear boyish. “I think we’re a good team,” he said.
“Definitely. But I’m still worried about the mare. It’s too early to congratulate ourselves.”
“She can’t stay here in the bush. She might poison herself by eating zamia palms or something,” Magnus said. “And we can’t turn her loose in the paddock because the fence is broken. We’ll have to find her owner.”
I tilted my arm so I could read my watch. “It’s after nine,” I said, surprised. “I thought it was much later. I s’pose the owner will still be awake.”
“You stay with the mare and I’ll run up to the crest of the next hill as there’s no road through the bush. I might see the lights of a farmhouse where I could ask. I’ll leave
the torch with you.”
He dashed into the forest, where he was soon enveloped in the night. The horse’s warm, hay-scented breath on my hand was reassuring.
After about twenty minutes I heard Magnus’s voice. “There’s a house quite close,” he called. “I’ll go and ask and be back as soon as I can.”
I was stiff with cold and damp when he returned fifteen minutes later on the back of a quad bike driven by a farmer.
“Virginia, this is Ron. Ron, meet Virginia, my nurse,” Magnus said, jumping off the machine. “Virginia, Ron owns the mare. Or rather his daughter, who’s at boarding school, does.”
“The horse is a family pet,” Ron explained, walking tentatively towards her and gasping in shock from the sight of the blood and the many stitches. “Oh you poor girl,” he whispered to her, burying
his face in her neck. “Poor darling.”
“She’s lost a lot of blood but she seems amazingly strong,” Magnus said.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving her life,” Ron said, turning to us both. “My daughter’s very homesick and she would have been gutted if anything had happened to this animal. Why don’t you two come back to the house with me, we’ll settle the mare in a warm stable and we’ll all have a drink together? My missus would love to meet you, Virginia.”
“Ron’s place is just over the hill, Virginia,” Magnus said. “Why don’t you go on the bike with Ron and I’ll lead the mare. Okay?”
Ron drove slowly and told me Magnus had said that although the horse had been weakened by the ordeal the fact that she was well-nourished and healthy before the storm came ensured that she came out of it fairly well.
Magnus and the horse trudged after the slow bike, heads down to avoid the rain. He looked a sorry sight, leading the limping, quivering animal.
Finally, Ron showed us into a stable where his wife, Judy, was waiting with a bucket of warm mash for the mare. We all took towels and rubbed the horse dry before Judy slipped a blanket over her and we all walked to the house where a fire blazed.
Magnus and I were urged into armchairs and a whiskey placed in our hands.
“You’d better not drink that, despite the fact that I can hear your teeth chattering from here,” Magnus said to me with a wink.
“Oh, you’re right!” I said, thrilled he’d remembered that I might be pregnant and that alcohol wouldn’t be good for our baby.
Judy, overhearing the exchange, discreetly took the whisky away and promised a hot chocolate in its place. “Have you eaten, by the way?” she asked.
“I don’t remember,” I laughed. “The storm was so engrossing I don’t believe we have.”
“I made coq au vin this afternoon,” Judy said. “And there’s plenty left. It takes me a while to re-adjust my cooking once the kids go back to boarding school after the long summer holidays. I’m still cooking for five, although there’s only the two of us. So please have some or Ron and I will be eating it for days.”
Love: Classified Page 16