by Leah Martyn
‘To check where your haemoglobin levels are presently. And we’ll go on testing you over the next three to six months until you’re right back to where you should be. Are you managing to tolerate the iron preparation?’
Sasha made a small face. ‘It’s a bit yucky but I drown it with banana smoothie.’
Joanna chuckled, placing the labelled blood to one side for collection. ‘You’re going OK with your eating plan, then?’
‘Mrs Groves gave Mum heaps of recipes,’ Sasha confirmed, whirling off her chair and to her feet. She looked down at the floor for a moment. ‘I…guess it will be OK about the Pill. Will you give me a script?’
‘Yes, Sasha, I can do that. And before you begin taking it, we’ll get your mum to sit in and go over everything again.’
With Sasha’s departure, Joanna wandered across to the window, her thoughts locked in and a bit melancholy. As she stood gazing out, Sasha appeared from the shadow of the building and crossed the road to the park.
Joanna blinked, watching as Gerri Wardell unravelled her long legs and stood up from the park bench. She held out her arms to her daughter, hugged her when she got there and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
Joanna bit her lips together. It felt almost like intruding on their privacy but she didn’t draw back. Couldn’t for some reason. Instead, her eyes stayed glued on the tableau of mother and child.
Sasha’s bright little face turned upwards to her mother’s. She said something. Something that made her mother nod and toss her head back in a laugh. They hugged again and then, arms linked, they set off through the park.
The moment was over. Joanna’s heart was touched beyond belief. One little family that looked like surviving. She gave a jerky sigh and turned away from the window, thinking, This is what it’s all about. This unbreakable bond between mother and child. It’s not odd or threatening.
But why couldn’t Matt see that’s how it was with her and her son? Why couldn’t he? She made a sound of pain and frustration in her throat. Perhaps he didn’t want to.
Perhaps he’d just plain given up on them.
When her phone rang, she picked it up dispiritedly. ‘Joanna Winters.’
‘Joanna, it’s Debra Carlisle.’
The last person she’d expected to hear from. Joanna felt a nudge of unease. ‘Deb—this is a surprise.’
‘I’m in town,’ Deb continued without further preamble. ‘Could we meet for lunch?’
‘Ah…’ Joanna flicked up her watch. ‘Brunch, you mean.’ She laughed. It was eleven-thirty.
‘I had an early start this morning,’ Deb explained wryly. ‘Can you make it?’
‘Ah…yes.’ And it might be very nice to talk to Matt’s sister again. ‘Where?’
‘The Brown Jug. It’s not far from you there, just on the other side of the park.’
‘Lovely.’ Joanna was immediately looking forward to a brisk walk through the park in the crisp winter sunshine. ‘See you there soon.’
‘I’m nearby,’ Deb said, ‘so I’ll go in and get a table near the back so we can have a good old natter in peace. Oh, and, Joanna?’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t say anything to Matt about meeting me, OK?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
JOANNA felt as though she were back at boarding school, sneaking out for a midnight feast.
In order to keep her date with Deb, she’d done a quick make-up repair, swiped a brush through her hair and added a spray of her favourite cologne.
Why was she feeling almost guilty? she wondered, pushing her way out of the building and crossing the road to the park. She was more or less setting her own work agenda these days. She could take her lunch-break whenever she liked.
No, it had been Deb’s last little rider not to tell Matt that had her intrigued. Perhaps she wanted to talk about a surprise for him or something? From what Joanna had observed, they seemed pretty close.
Well, no doubt she’d find out soon.
The Brown Jug was one of Glenville’s original cafés. With its dark wooden tables and high-back booths, it offered a degree of privacy to its diners.
Deb’s face lit in welcome. ‘You look fabulous, Joanna.’
‘You don’t look half-bad yourself,’ Joanna reciprocated with a smile. Deb did indeed look attractive in a well-cut navy trouser suit and soft white shirt.
Deb chuckled, waving Joanna into the bench seat opposite her. ‘After all this time, holding the fort on my own at Featherdale, I could probably be forgiven for looking like a dishrag.’
‘Not a chance. How is Scott, by the way?’
‘Home next week.’ Deb’s happiness was quietly evident. ‘He won’t be able to do much, of course.’
‘At least he’ll be able to supervise.’
Deb snorted. ‘Give the orders more like. Now, what are we having?’ She picked up the buff-coloured menu.
‘A toasted sandwich and a pot of tea will suit me fine.’ Joanna folded the menu and placed it aside as if it was of little consequence what they ate. She was more interested in why Matt’s sister had wanted to see her, and secretly.
‘Me, too.’ Deb signalled a hovering waitress and gave their order. ‘At least we’ll be served quickly here and we won’t be interrupted.’ Resting her chin on her steepled hands, she looked across at Joanna. ‘What’s eating Matt?’
Joanna smothered a groan. Deb really shot from the hip. ‘What makes you think I’d know?’
‘Come off it, Joanna.’ Deb was blunt. ‘You and he were as thick as thieves that night at Featherdale. And afterwards, if I’m any judge,’ she added archly.
Joanna coloured faintly. ‘We were for a little while,’ she said slowly. ‘But then things got complicated.’
There was a long pause, which Deb broke with gentle warmth. ‘I’m not trying to be nosy, Joanna. But I worry about Matt. I love my twin dearly—’
‘You’re twins?’
Deb laughed. ‘I thought you knew.’
Joanna shook her head. ‘But I heard you address Matt as your big brother. I, um, assumed he was older.’
‘He is.’ Deb gave a snip of laughter. ‘By thirty minutes. We’ve always been close. Told each other stuff. But lately…’ She shrugged away the rest of the sentence.
Glad of the diversion, Joanna looked up gratefully when their food came. Although suddenly she’d lost her appetite. But she’d have to make an effort for the look of the thing.
‘So, how have things become complicated?’ Deb’s pretty bracelets jangled as she lifted the silver teapot and poured their tea.
Joanna took a deep breath. ‘There’s some enmity between Matt and my son, Jason. From regarding Matt as something of a hero, Jase sees him now as—as a rival.’
‘For your affections,’ Deb added, and clicked her tongue in exasperation. ‘But Matt should be able to handle that. He’s good with young people. I must say, all this sounds a bit odd, Joanna. Have a sandwich,’ she sidetracked. ‘They look delicious.’
‘Matt doesn’t seem to even want to try.’ Joanna’s mouth twisted slightly. ‘It’s like he’s just switched off, washed his hands of us…’
Deb shook her head mutely. ‘Yet for a while there you both seemed so happy. So good together. And I was so thrilled that Matt had found someone again.’
‘Again?’ Joanna blinked uncertainly.
‘Oh, lord, I’m sorry!’ Deb’s hand shot forward and took Joanna’s wrist. ‘I’m about as subtle as a sledgehammer.’ She made a dismissive noise. ‘He hasn’t told you anything, has he?’
Joanna shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Matt was married once, Joanna. It ended tragically. But that’s all I’ll say. The rest, if he wants to tell you, will have to come from him.’
‘Then I’ll just have to find a way to ask him,’ Joanna resolved quietly.
And a time and a place, Joanna added silently a bit later. She’d left Deb shortly after her revelation. And stuck her with the bill, she remembered ruefully. But Deb wouldn’t min
d.
‘Good luck, Joanna,’ she’d said, her voice reflecting her genuine kindness and concern when Joanna had got abruptly to her feet and gathered up her bag.
Why on earth was she hurrying back? Consciously, she slowed her steps. Since she’d cut short her lunch, she had oceans of time to kill.
And time to decide what was the best course of action to take with Matt.
Her dark head came up, her eyes thoughtfully assessing the flowering gums that lined the meandering path. The park was lovely. Open, flat spaces harmonised gently with hillocks and unexpected little corners of shadowy trees. And benches were situated both in sunshine and shade so that folk had a choice of where to sit.
The sun on her back was warm. Stopping for a moment, Joanna closed her eyes, breathing in the earthy, woody moistness of the little cultivated rainforest of tree ferns and mosses.
Her reverie was rudely interrupted by the trill of her mobile phone. Now what? She sighed inwardly, rescuing it from her blazer pocket and putting it to her ear. She was surprised to hear an excited Jason on the other end.
‘Coach wants to take us to the coast tomorrow, Mum. It’s a kind of bonding camp for the athletics team. We’ll be staying overnight. Is it OK?’
Joanna pulled her thoughts together. ‘Yes, I suppose so. Where will you be staying?’
‘At the Tallebudgera fitness camp. The vacancy just came up this morning—that’s why we’ve only got short notice. We’re travelling in the school bus and two of the teachers are going as support staff.’
‘What do you need to take?’
‘Not much. Just my sleeping bag, jeans and stuff. And my kit.’
Which was in a rancid heap in the laundry. ‘Ah…’
‘I’ll chuck what I need in the washing machine when I get home,’ Jason said helpfully, as though homing in on her hesitation. ‘I can go, can’t I?’
‘Well, seeing you’re Blaxland’s up-and-coming sports champ, I guess you’d better.’ Joanna was suddenly light-hearted, walking on air. She now had a time, a place and an opportunity to talk to Matt.
Thank you, God.
Knowledge gave her strength when she knocked on his office door later that afternoon.
He looked up from his paperwork. ‘You just off?’
Oh, lord. He seemed as remote as ever. ‘Mmm.’ Joanna drummed up a quick smile. ‘I’m all squared away.’ Her throat dried for a second, before she made her prepared little speech. ‘Jason’s off on an overnight camp tomorrow. I’d like you to come to dinner.’
He sat for a second, staring at her, and then said tersely, ‘Are you giving a dinner party?’
‘For two.’ She grasped her courage in both hands. ‘We have to talk, Matt.’
He began to shake his head but she glared at him and he stopped. ‘What time?’
She twitched a shoulder. ‘Sixish?’
‘Can I bring anything?’
‘No, thanks. It won’t be fancy,’ she warned him. ‘I’ll throw a casserole together.’ She moved away and then turned at the door. ‘And don’t bother with wine. My parents have a vineyard in the Canberra district. They keep me well supplied.’
What the hell was he doing here? The knot tightened in Matt’s stomach as he rang Joanna’s doorbell and waited.
Joanna took a deep breath on her way to open the door. She fully expected things to be awkward between them but she had no set plan. She could only hope that some time during the evening the warm and real Matt McKellar would emerge from the coat of armour he’d been wearing lately.
She opened the door with a flourish. Start as you mean to go on, she decided. ‘Hi, come on in.’
Matt’s gaze narrowed marginally on her before he stepped over the threshold.
‘Can I take your jacket?’ There was a sleety rain falling.
‘Thanks,’ he said, his voice sounding rusty and unused. ‘Something’s smells good,’ he added a bit half-heartedly, and followed her through to the kitchen.
‘I reneged on the casserole and made soup. It’s a nice thick one and I’ve some zucchini bread to go with it.’ She stopped, aware her heart was hammering and she felt faintly sick. But she couldn’t seem to stop her tongue chattering on.
‘Could you open the wine? I…have real trouble with the corks.’
Matt watched helplessly as she turned to open the fridge. The skinny-rib black jumper she wore pulled away from her waistband of her jeans, revealing a strip of pale skin. He took a breath so deep it hurt. ‘Joanna…’
She turned in a little jerky movement. He was holding out his arms to her.
Almost in slow motion, she closed the door of the fridge and stood against it. Then she ran to him.
‘These have been the longest weeks of my life,’ he sighed, wrapping her to him, his words muffled against her hair.
‘Oh—for me, too,’ she whispered against his chest.
‘I’ve wanted you, Joanna…so much, so badly…’ He spoke as if the air were being pushed out of his body.
‘Matt…’ She leant away from him, staring up into his eyes, an odd little spiral of trepidation making her words husky. ‘You and me. It’s not that simple…Is it?’
He tensed. ‘Jason?’
‘No.’ She faced him with uncertainty and wariness clouding her eyes. ‘Deb…talked to me yesterday.’
‘And?’ He turned her shoulders a fraction.
‘Before we can move forward, I think you have things to tell me…’
Matt closed down, pulling his arms away as if she’d struck him. He swung to the window, peering sightlessly at the rain, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets.
Joanna grasped her courage in both hands. She went to him, moved close to him so that their arms were touching. ‘Talk to me, Matt. Please…’
His jaw worked and it seemed he would ignore her plea. After an eternity he said, ‘There’s nothing you can do, Joanna.’
‘Probably not. But I can listen. I’ve been there, too, remember?’
‘Not like this you haven’t.’
‘Oh, spare me!’ Joanna felt the sudden core of anger in her chest. ‘I lost someone I loved, too! My husband was just a boy! He didn’t deserve to die either!’
He was silent for a long moment then he let his breath out in a ragged sigh. ‘How much did Deb tell you?’
‘Not much.’ She swallowed. ‘Just that you’ve been married—and that it ended tragically. I gather your wife died.’
‘Yes.’ He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them stiffly at his sides. ‘All right, I’ll tell you about Nicola. But it’s not pretty.’
‘When a young person dies, for whatever reason, it’s never pretty.’ She took his hand, tightening her fingers in his. And then, as if guided by remote control, they walked back through to the lounge.
Joanna tugged him gently down onto the big old chesterfield in front of the fire. ‘Let it go now,’ she coaxed gently. ‘All of it.’
Matt took a great shuddering breath and then he did.
‘It’s nearly seven years ago now. Nicola was twenty-six. I was thirty, studying towards my speciality. We were expecting our first child and about to buy our first home. We’d seen one we were pretty keen on and Nic suggested we have another look.’
He stopped and breathed again. ‘She rang me at the hospital to tell me she’d teed it up with the estate agent and she’d pick me up at the end of my shift. I wasn’t keen for her to be out driving. We’d had rain and the roads…
‘It was winter, about four-thirty in the afternoon. The smash happened outside the hospital. Nic was turning to come into the car park, a van delivering linen sideswiped her and rammed her car into a wall.’
‘Oh, no…’ Joanna felt shock drain the blood from her face. She wrapped her arms around Matt’s waist and held him. After the longest time, she felt him begin to relax slightly. ‘Do you want to go on?’ she asked quietly.
He took a ragged breath. ‘Maybe I should. I need to tell you, I think.’
She gave h
im a squeeze of encouragement and after a bit he began again.
‘It was surreal—like a nightmare. The rain and the rescue guys in their orange slickers—doctors…’ He paused, his intake of breath visibly painful. ‘She was in Theatre for six hours but in the end they couldn’t save her. They managed to get the baby out. A little boy. He…was too immature to survive. He lasted only a few hours. But he was beautiful, quite perfect. I had him baptised. I, um, named him Nicholas Matthew.’ He turned to Joanna, his face streaked with tears. ‘I think she would have liked that.’
On a little moan, he turned in her arms, dropping his head against hers and holding her for dear life against his chest.
In the end, Joanna didn’t know who was holding who the tightest. But she knew right at that moment she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Finally, Matt seemed to pull himself together. ‘Sorry.’ He looked away, awkward now. ‘That all got a bit messy.’
‘You’ve never grieved properly, have you, Matt?’ she asked carefully and with some perception.
‘Maybe not…’
‘You didn’t seek counselling?’
He gave a stiff laugh. ‘You know what doctors are like—useless about their own health and welfare.’
‘What about having a chat with Sally Ekersley?’ Joanna crossed her fingers.
‘Yes…OK…’ The words punched the air like a heavy sigh. ‘That might be a good idea.’
She rubbed her head against his shoulder. ‘Like that drink now?’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Thanks. But I didn’t get to open the wine for you.’ Straightening up, he levered himself out of the sofa. ‘I’ll do it now.’
‘Would you prefer a Scotch?’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘How did you guess?’
They moved quietly and gently through the rest of the evening. Joanna lit some candles and put on some Spanish guitar music that melted into the background.
With a little flourish she dished up the soup, adding a sprinkle of fresh herbs across the top. Matt broke the bread and they ate off trays in front of the fire.
The rain continued to fall and the night drew in around them. ‘Why don’t I make some coffee?’ Joanna swung her feet to the floor. Somehow she’d become wedged against Matt and one of her legs had pins and needles. ‘Ouch!’