‘Candles?’ He was feeling way out of frame.
‘I told you. There were candles in the bottom drawer,’ Karli said proudly. ‘That’s what made us remember it’s my five and three-quarter’th birthday. I found them and said they looked like great big birthday candles and Jenna said, “Let’s do it.” Do you want to see?’ She hauled open the door of the refrigerator to show him.
The ‘cake’ stood in all its glory. It was as Jenna had said, a sort of chocolate crunch-a layer of brownish biscuity substance that covered the plate. The candles were huge emergency household candles and they’d squeezed on five full candles, with one that had been a quarter burnt in the centre.
‘The three quarters for three quarter years is the one in the middle,’ Karli told him and he smiled.
‘Hey, I figured that. Well done you.’
‘Well done us,’ Jenna said, and grinned. ‘Eat, Mr Jackson.’
‘Can I have a beer?’ he said faintly, and Karli sighed in five-and-three-quarter-year-old exasperation.
‘Beer’s horrid.’
‘Beer’s essential.’
‘I took it all out of the fridge,’ she told him. ‘It was really hard to get the cake in. I packed it into the cupboard but Jenna found it and made me put some back.’
‘Thank you, Jenna,’ he told her, and he smiled at her across the table.
She smiled back.
Whoa. What was happening here?
She was just smiling-but what a smile!
He rose to get a beer. Fast. Because it wasn’t the beer he wanted. He wanted to break whatever was happening between the two of them.
This was really dumb. This woman was from a way of life that had nothing to do with him. She was here for another two nights and she’d be gone.
She had no business smiling at him like this.
He took a long time to get his beer, to open it and to sit back down at the table, and when he did he had himself under control again.
Almost.
Almost wasn’t enough.
He worried her.
Jenna had far too much to be worried about to add Riley Jackson to her list, but still he worried her. He sat across the table and ate his casserole with evident enjoyment, but every move he made spoke of almost indescribable weariness.
He filled the room with his presence. His smile was magnetic and his gentleness with Karli was wonderful. He was a man who should be in a comfy home with a wife and children who loved him to bits. Instead of which he was here. Looking like this.
His face shocked her. The moment she’d seen him as she’d come out of the shower, it had been all she could do not to exclaim in dismay. His face was almost grey with fatigue and his eyes were bloodshot and exhausted. Had he worked solidly for the last two days? By the look of him he’d worked every waking minute, and there’d been far too few sleeping minutes.
He should be in bed right now, she thought. But at least she could feed him. The cake was probably dreadful, but the casserole had turned out okay and he looked as if he was relishing every mouthful.
‘There’s more on the stove,’ she told him and he looked up and grinned and her heart did this silly little sideways skip.
‘There won’t be more for long,’ he told her.
‘Don’t you eat while you’re out working?’
‘I have my beans.’
‘Yeah? You’ve eaten beans for two days straight?’
‘I can do it for a fortnight before I risk scurvy.’
‘But why would you want to?’
‘There’s work to be done and only me to do it,’ he said briefly before he re-addressed himself to the casserole.
It didn’t make sense. The man had to have money. Where had the plane come from?
‘The plane’s yours?’ she said tentatively and he looked up again, surprised.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Then…why don’t you sell the plane and live somewhere a bit closer to civilisation?’
‘This is civilisation.’ Another grin, though the weariness was so embedded that his grin was a bit lopsided. ‘Actually…’ he motioned round the room ‘…this is amazingly civilised. How did you do it? How did you stop the dust getting in?’
‘Newspapers,’ Karli volunteered between mouthfuls. ‘Lots and lots of newspapers.’
‘Newspapers?’
‘It was all we could find,’ Jenna told him. ‘If you want to stop the dust permanently you’ll have to do some carpentry. But meanwhile we’ve used newspaper to stuff chinks in the weatherboards and fill the cracks. We attacked one of the falling-down sheds for spare boards. We nailed boards over broken windows. We stuffed the gaps with more newspapers. I hope you’ve finished with last week’s news,’ she told him. ‘If you haven’t, it’s a bit of a traipse around the house from page to page.’
He managed to smile again, but he looked dumbfounded. ‘There wasn’t much in the newspapers,’ he managed. ‘We lost the cricket.’
There was a long pause while he concentrated on eating for a bit, and then he stared across at her again. He looked down to Karli, who was tracing the cracks on her ancient china plate with her fork, and then he looked back to Jenna.
‘I can’t believe you’ve worked so hard.’
‘I believe you’ve worked hard yourself,’ she told him. She shouldn’t worry, she thought. But she worried. He looked so exhausted.
‘But I’m not Nicole Razor’s child,’ Riley said and she stilled. Sympathy did a fast exit, stage left.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Your parents are Nicole Razor and Charles Svenson. There’s money to burn in those circles. I can’t imagine that you’ve ever needed to do a day’s work in your life.’
Here it was again. The prejudice that followed her everywhere.
‘I work,’ she snapped.
‘You don’t need to.’
‘Of course I need to. How else can I live?’
‘But you’re wealthy. You offered to pay for a plane ride to Adelaide.’
‘That’s because I was desperate,’ she told him. ‘I’d have paid with plastic and then spent years paying it off.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You spend a whole bunch of time not believing me,’ she snapped, rising and carrying the plates to the sink. Carefully turning her back on him. ‘It’s getting to be a habit.’
Let it go, she told him under her breath. Leave it.
But he wasn’t leaving it.
‘If your father doesn’t support you, what do you do for a living?’
‘Is that any of your business?’
‘No, but-’
‘How do you support this place?’ she demanded, trying desperately to turn the conversation. ‘Have you got a marijuana crop on the side?’
He grinned at that. ‘Sure. A whole green paddock of marijuana nodding gently in the breeze. Just step out through the manicured gardens, walk on down the avenue of oaks, smile at the farmhands tending the sheep and you’ll see the first of my cultivated crops on the right.’
‘See, you won’t tell me,’ she said, still with her back to him. ‘So why should I tell you what I do for a living?’
‘Jenna’s a nurse,’ Karli volunteered.
Silence. Then: ‘Thank you, Karli,’ Riley said gravely. ‘What sort of a nurse?’
‘She helps the doctors when they operate,’ Karli told him. ‘She works a lot and a lot. She keeps wanting to come and see me, but she can’t ’cos it’s too far and she doesn’t get any days off in a row.’
‘And where does Jenna live?’ Riley asked and Jenna wheeled to face him.
‘Butt out, Jackson. This is none of your business.’
But the conversation had her excluded.
‘Jenna lives in a really cute little room,’ Karli told him. ‘It’s up really high. We climb all these stairs and her window looks over roofs and chimneypots and there’s a cat who comes in the window and purrs, only he’s not Jenna’s. He belongs to the landlady,
but we like him. His name’s Pudding. And Jenna has a bed with purple cushions all over it that we sewed together. Her sofa’s next to the bed and that’s where I sleep. It’s really comfy and I like being next to Jenna. We make toast and we drink cocoa and we let Pudding the cat in and I like it.’ Her voice was suddenly defiant, and the look that she gave Riley suggested that he might almost be threatening it.
‘You like going there?’
‘The lady at the school keeps asking that, ’cos Nicole says I should stay all the time at school, but the school lady asked me a lot of questions and then she said she can’t see any need to ask Nicole’s permission when Jenna’s my sister.’
Riley’s eyes flashed to Jenna. ‘So you’re not supposed to have Karli.’
‘Of course I am,’ Jenna snapped, thoroughly disconcerted. He was finding out too much about her for comfort. Somehow she had to put a stopper on Karli’s tongue-but the fact that Karli was talking was a joy in itself.
‘We have a birthday cake to eat,’ she reminded them, moving right on. ‘Mr Jackson, will you light the candles?’
He cast her a doubtful glance, as if there were more questions he wanted to ask. But the cake was waiting. He lit the candles. He snuffed out the lantern and the only light was the ridiculously big candles on the cake.
‘Sing “Happy Birthday”,’ Jenna ordered, and to her astonishment Riley stood and sang. He had a lovely voice, deep and rumbly and warm. He smiled across the cake at Karli as he sang and Jenna found it really hard to keep singing herself.
What was it with this man?
With ‘Happy Birthday’ finished, they solemnly clapped-five and three-quarter times (a sort of muffled thump for the three quarters) with an extra clap to make her grow-and then Karli blew her candles out in four big breaths.
‘Every extra blow more than one means you have a boyfriend,’ Jenna told her sister. ‘That means you have three boyfriends.’
‘Silly.’ Karli chuckled in the dark, watching the last glow from the blown-out wicks disappear into darkness. ‘The only boy here is Mr Jackson and he’s too big for me. He can be your boyfriend,’ she said generously and Jenna found herself blushing.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
She moved towards the lantern, guessing where it was in the dark, but Riley was before her. They reached the lantern at the same time and their hands touched.
And stayed touching.
‘I’ll light it,’ Riley said, and was his voice just a trifle unsteady? ‘I have the matches.’
‘Good. Great.’ Somehow she made herself draw back until the light flickered on and the room became normal again. Almost normal.
But Karli was staring at her sad excuse for a chocolate cake, made under the most primitive of conditions, and she was beaming as if she’d been given the world. ‘This is the bestest birthday,’ she whispered.
‘I have a present for you,’ Riley told her and he smiled and left the room.
‘Jenna told me you couldn’t get me a present because there aren’t any shops,’ Karli called as Jenna leaned back against the sink and tried to get her bearings.
‘I don’t need to go to the shops to get my present,’ he called back, his voice muffled through the wall. There was the sound of much foraging and Karli started to look excited.
‘What do you think it will be?’
‘Maybe he’s got you a cow,’ Jenna suggested, intrigued herself. ‘That’ll put Pudding’s nose out of joint.’
‘Pudding wouldn’t like a cow.’
‘And a cow wouldn’t fit in our suitcase on the way home.’ She smiled and called out: ‘Karli says she doesn’t want a cow, Mr Jackson.’
‘It’s not a cow. I’m wrapping it up now.’
‘I guess if he’s wrapping it up it can’t be a cow,’ Jenna told Karli, and she watched as the little girl practically lit within with excitement.
She knew exactly how Karli would be feeling right now. In the past, birthdays for Karli would have been exactly the same as they’d been for Jenna. They’d either be forgotten completely or they’d be occasions to show off. They’d be huge, glittering affairs with jugglers and clowns and caterers and the children of every celebrity worth their salt, none of whom she knew, and parents drinking too much on the sidelines and gushing kisses and paparazzi…
Ugh.
There was still time, she thought. She could give Karli a happy childhood-if she was allowed to.
There was much thumping happening next door.
‘I’m having trouble with my gift-wrapping,’ Riley called. ‘There seems to be a dearth of newspaper. Can I pull some out of the chinks?’
‘You do and you’re dead.’
‘Not even for a birthday?’
‘Not even for a birthday.’
Silence.
‘Okay. Necessity is the mother of invention,’ he announced. ‘Close your eyes, Karli.’
Karli squeezed her eyes so shut her little nose was wrinkled to a quarter of its normal length. She was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Jenna was starting to do some anticipating herself. Her soap had been a sorry sort of offering, but it was the best she’d been able to do. The fact that it had been received with such delight had choked her up.
What would Riley produce?
Riley walked back into the room with his hands behind his back. He looked at the eyes-squeezed-shut Karli and he grinned. He looked across at Jenna and started to smile-and then thought better of it.
The tension zoomed back with a fierceness that took her breath away.
Concentrate on Karli, she told herself, and Riley had obviously decided that was the best thing to do, too.
‘Are your eyes closed really, really tight?’ he asked, and grinned as Karli nodded her head so hard one of her braids fell free.
He waited, drawing out the delicious anticipation for as long as he could. Then: ‘Open now,’ he told Karli and held out his hand.
Karli opened her eyes-and stared. Riley was holding out something long and black and a bit frayed around the edges.
‘It’s a sock.’
‘Well guessed, Miss Karli.’ Riley grinned still more. ‘It is indeed a sock. It’s my very best sock, however, specially laundered by the famous Maggie in honour of this auspicious occasion. I figured if Santa Claus can put Christmas presents in stockings, then I can put birthday presents in socks. Take it. It’s yours. There’s something inside.’
Karli stared across at Jenna, as if awaiting instructions, and Jenna smiled. ‘Hold your breath while you check it out, Karli,’ she advised. ‘Men’s socks smell.’
‘Hey.’ Riley sounded offended. ‘You’re casting aspersions on my Maggie.’
‘Heaven forbid.’
He smiled at her, a gently laughing smile, and Jenna felt her heart twist again. He walked forward and laid the sock in Karli’s lap-and then stepped back.
‘Happy five and three-quarther’th birthday,’ he told her.
Karli lifted the sock with caution, holding it out at full stretch by its top corner. Even from across the room Jenna could see it was heavy, weighed down by something large stuffed into the foot.
‘What is it?’ Karli breathed and held it to the light.
‘Guess,’ Riley told her.
She felt it with care, extending the moment for all it was worth.
‘It feels like a rock.’
‘You are too clever,’ Riley told her, as if she’d just done something extraordinary. ‘But what sort of a rock?’
A rock, Jenna thought blankly. She’d thought her soap was a sad effort. How could he pull off a rock?
A pet rock maybe? Was Karli young enough to be talked into enthusiasm for a pet rock?
Better than pet dust, she thought with wry humour. But not much.
‘Pull it out,’ Riley was advising, and Karli did, cautiously, as if it might bite.
It was a slab of rock, maybe four inches wide, eight inches long and two or three inches deep. It was soft gray and dusty, an
d jagged as if it had just been pulled out of the dirt. Karli slid it down onto the table and gazed at it in confusion.
‘What is it?’
‘What do you see?’ Riley asked her gently and she looked perplexed. But then she frowned, concentrating, and Jenna leaned forward to see for herself.
There was an imprint on the rock’s surface. It was a six-pointed star, with tiny round circles embedded along each of the star points.
‘What does it look like?’ Riley asked Karli, and the little girl traced the imprint with care.
‘Like…a starfish?’
‘Hey.’ His smile was delighted. ‘Exactly right. Now turn it over.’
She slid it over, moving slowly and with wonder, as if it just might turn out to be infinitely precious and she wasn’t taking any chances. There on the other side was a shell, a mollusc, a beautifully coiled thing embedded deep into the rock.
‘It’s a shell,’ she said, wondering.
‘Not just a shell,’ he told her. ‘It’s an amazingly special shell. And an amazingly special starfish.’ He watched her finger tracing the shell with wonder. ‘Karli, you know the dust you walked over on Thursday when you walked from the train platform?’
‘Yes.’
‘A million years ago that dust was sand at the bottom of a very big ocean. Once upon a time this place was all under water, and this starfish and this little sea-snail were crawling around the ocean floor, right where you’re sitting.’
Her eyes flew up to Riley’s. ‘Really?’
‘Really. You’re sitting in the middle of an ocean, Karli. An ancient ocean that ceased to be an ocean a million years ago.’
She could hardly take it in, Jenna thought, watching the little girl’s changing face. But she was trying.
‘My starfish and my snail were alive a million years ago?’
‘Yep,’ he told her. ‘And when they died they were buried on the ocean floor. Sand came up over them. The waves washed over them, over and over. Gradually the ocean disappeared, but still they stayed where they were buried. They stayed and they stayed, and the sand that buried them pressed down so hard that it became rock. Then this afternoon while I was digging out a pipe taking water to my cattle, this rock slipped up from under the ground. It was almost as if it had been waiting for a million years for this very special occasion. For Karli’s five and three-quarter’th birthday.’
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