‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t reveal my sources, darling. You know that, but I can tell you, if this sort of story were to break, the Careys would lose everything. It—how can I put this delicately?’
‘Back up a minute. You said Paul is my—’ she choked on the word, on the near disaster of their attraction. ‘Are you saying Jacob Carey is my father? What proof do you have?’
He waved aside her questions. ‘It might be better for you to stop asking questions about your father and distance yourself from the family. I’m flying back to Sydney to follow up a couple of leads.’
‘Wait, are you talking about the pine trees or—’
‘That scandal might become current again if you persist in your search for your father. Do you want to risk Jacob Carey having another heart attack?’
‘How do you mean?’ The image of Jacob at the fundraiser, pale and shaken, wasn’t one she wanted to see again. Anything she could do to prevent a repetition, she would.
‘A man does one thing wrong; say, for example, he cheats his friends, and people start looking for a pattern of wrongdoing. Long memories and grudges are a bad combination. If a long-lost daughter should emerge, imagine how that could trigger unrest. This community is already on edge with the mill closing and they’re looking for scapegoats.’
Shar from the bakery had mentioned cowardly attacks on certain individuals in town since the mill closed. Blame landed where people chose to sling mud. Was Max right about the Carey family? Would her quest to find her father shine an unwelcome light on Paul and his family? Would the old scandal raise its head again?
‘Let me help you, Serena. When I get back to Sydney, I can call in a favour and—’
Wanting to stop the world and get off, Serena held up a hand. ‘It’s fine, Max. I’ll … leave things be for now. Thanks for the warning.’ She stood. If Max took the hint and left, maybe she’d make it to her bedroom before the tears welling in her eyes fell.
‘Don’t forget, darling, all I want is to help you. I could see you liked Carey, but maybe that was just a connection you sensed without understanding it. Now you know why you liked him.’ Distantly, she noticed Max’s smirk and shuddered. If he thought this revelation changed things between them, he had another think coming.
She did like—had been attracted to—Paul, just not as a brother. The fledgling relationship she’d enjoyed was gone, but she couldn’t tell Paul why. She wouldn’t destroy his family’s peace of mind, not while they were struggling for their survival and trying to save the farm.
Maybe not ever.
‘I’ll call you from Sydney.’ Holding her shoulders, Max kissed her cheeks. ‘I’ll fly back out this way in a few days. See you then, unless you plan on returning to Sydney soon?’
‘I’m not sure what I’ll do.’
He squeezed her hands before heading for the door. ‘Remember how good we were together. We can have that again. I really want that again, Serena. Think about it, and call me.’
Forcing a passable attempt at a smile, she nodded. ‘See you, Max.’
She listened for the sound of the front door clicking shut and sank back into the armchair. She should be ecstatic at the discovery of her father, and a whole family waiting to claim her. So why wasn’t a successful conclusion to her search making her jump for joy?
***
Paul turned into the driveway of Carey Cotton and pulled up in his usual parking spot beside an ancient lemon tree planted by one of his great-great forebears. His father appeared on the verandah, mug in hand, and waved. Paul climbed the front steps and stood beside him. His colour was good and he seemed much improved since his health scare at the picnic. ‘Is Mum in?’
‘She’s gone to town. Beer?’
‘Whatever you’re having is fine, thanks.’ He followed his father through the screen door and into the kitchen and sat at the scrubbed pine table while his father clattered around making coffee. In the fluorescent kitchen light, his father looked older.
‘What brings you out so early in the week?’ His father set a steaming mug on the table in front of Paul and sat heavily on the chair opposite. ‘I didn’t expect to see you until Friday roast night.’
His father picked up a half-smoked cigarette and dragged in a lungful. Catching his son’s eye, he exhaled slowly. ‘Don’t tell your mother. She thinks I’ve given up. Besides, I only have one when she goes to town.’
Paul nodded at the cigarette. ‘Mum won’t be happy you’re smoking at all, let alone in the house.’
‘Too cold down the back paddock.’
Paul sipped his coffee. Combined with smoke forming a cloud around his father’s head, it sat heavy in his stomach and he put the mug on the table. ‘You know Serena’s been a bit—standoffish since dinner here?’
‘You mean you haven’t taken her to the lookout yet? What’s the matter with you?’ His father took another long pull of his cigarette and picked a stray piece of tobacco off his lower lip before picking up his coffee. His attempt at humour fell flat.
Too much was riding on his father’s answer to the question for Paul to laugh at the quip. ‘Is there any chance you or Josh might have known her mother a little too well?’
Jacob froze in the act of raising the mug to his mouth. ‘What sort of question is that to ask me?’
‘A desperate one, Dad. I’m falling for Serena but she’s holding back and I suspect it’s because of what you and Josh said the other night about knowing her mother. She reacted oddly. I need to know for sure one way or the other.’
His father set his coffee mug on the table, and frowned into it. With his free hand, he rubbed his forehead as though in pain.
Paul’s anxiety grew as the silence lengthened. ‘Look, for what it’s worth, I don’t believe you cheated on Mum, but the way I feel about Serena, I need to be one hundred per cent, watertight certain we’re not cousins.’
‘The way you feel—aren’t you jumping the gun, son? You’ve known her for what, a week?’
‘Almost a fortnight, but I take your point. It’s just—she makes me feel like anything’s possible, even with the mill closing. She’s special and I don’t want to lose my chance with her for the sake of a groundless fear. So—what about Dawn?’
‘I don’t … think anything happened.’
Desperately sucking in air, Paul tried to dislodge the hard ball of fear in his lungs. Outright denial by his father had been his hope, not this vague uncertainty.
Think contained a possibility of the unthinkable and he wanted reassurance. Absolute, iron-clad, not-a-doubt-in-the-world confidence that he and Serena were meant to be. That they could be.
‘Uncle Josh was with you, wasn’t he? Do you remember when you met Dawn?’
His father leaned heavily on the table. ‘I remember a bombshell of a redhead knocking our socks off. It was the first night of the festival, and we were young enough to be looking for a good time. We had a stash of weed I picked up in Brisbane, in the Valley, and Dawn got us singing old Beatles songs. You couldn’t miss her, whatever name it was she chose to go by—gorgeous red hair and a voice that soared over three octaves. They’re the two things I most remember, and Josh trying to win onto her. I may have stolen a kiss but I’ve no clear recollection of events after we settled around the fire. But, son, I doubt even in a pot-fuelled daze I could have been unfaithful to your mother.’
‘You doubt? As in—you probably didn’t but can’t say for certain?’
‘I love your mother. Always have. And I would not have gone with another woman, no matter how beautiful she was.’
‘Is there any chance Serena could be my half-sister?’
A pained expression crossed his father’s face. ‘I’m ninety-nine point nine per cent sure she isn’t. If it’s any consolation, I woke curled up beside the campfire the next morning. Alone.’
Desolation swirled in his gut as the desperate hope he could strike his father off Serena’s list disappeared. ‘I can’t take a chance on that poi
nt one per cent. Until I know for sure—’
‘Leave her alone.’
***
Serena thumped the arm of the sofa. Why was she mourning the loss of a relationship she hadn’t looked for with Paul? They’d shared nothing more than dealing with the fallout from the closure.
And several mind-blowing kisses.
She groaned and put her hands over her face. If Max was right …
‘Serena? I thought I heard voices in here.’ Dawn dropped a kiss on her head and stroked her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
‘Mum.’ Swiftly wiping her eyes, Serena sniffed and swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. ‘Sorry if we disturbed you.’
‘You didn’t. I was hoping to catch Paul before he left.’
‘It wasn’t Paul. It was Max. He’s heading back to Sydney for a few days and dropped in to—say goodbye.’
‘I see. And are these tears because you’ll miss him?’
‘No.’ She pulled an embroidered cushion from behind her back and hugged it to her chest. Fat chance her mother would miss seeing her tears. She sniffed again.
‘Okay, so is this going to be like pulling a tooth, me asking you questions and you supplying monosyllabic answers, or can we cut to the chase and you tell me what’s really behind your reaction?’ Dawn curled up on the sofa where Max had delivered the blow to her hopes and dreams.
‘It’s not like when I was in primary school, when I fell over and a bandaid and a kiss fixed everything.’
‘Maybe not. But I’ve still got two functioning ears and you’ll never be too big for me to hug. So tell me what Max said that’s upset you.’
Tipping her head back, she stared at the ceiling rose high above. In her wildest dreams she hadn’t really expected to find her father. The odds of success were astronomical, but, in the darkest days of her mother’s illness, planning her search had focused her and made her feel a little better. The planning—something else to think about other than a world in which her mother didn’t live—had given Serena the strength to go on. She knew that now, that the planning had been the key.
Now, when it was too late to un-know her parentage.
How different would her meeting with Paul have been if she’d met him as her half-brother instead of the cheeky, gorgeous, caring stranger in the shower?
Falling for her own brother—a shudder passed through her at how close to disaster they’d come.
Max had sounded certain of his facts, but he hadn’t given her proof, or named names. Protecting his sources was second nature to him, but it grated that he had succeeded so quickly when it wasn’t even his quest.
Earth-shattering news demanded details so she could trawl through them in the cold, Paul-less winter nights. Hugging the cushion, she met her mother’s gaze.
‘Do you really not know who my father is?’
Dawn’s face paled and her green gaze penetrated Serena’s fog of unhappiness. Her mother drew a deep breath. ‘Perhaps I should have told you years ago. It just didn’t seem relevant before, but now you’re set on finding your father and I—I won’t pretend I was someone other than who I am.’
‘Mum?’
All at once, Serena wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what her mother had to say on top of Max’s shocking confirmation. Once the words were spoken, all uncertainty would be wiped away, and she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good news.
‘Maybe I should make us a pot of tea first?’ Dawn rose quickly and twined her hands together.
‘If it’s that bad, just give it to me straight.’
Her mother sank back into the sofa, rubbed a hand over her knee and tugged at a pill in the tracksuit material. Words trickled slowly at first, then raced as though a floodgate opened. ‘I was nineteen, and enjoying the freedom from parental restrictions in every way I could. Most teens would do the same. I embraced the opportunity to play other genres of music, and I decided to use my freedom to explore love.’
Serena’s stomach fell like a plane in an air pocket and landed like a high wire acrobat without a net. The thud reverberated through her body, smashing the last, lingering hope of discovering her father.
She knew what freedom meant.
‘You had more than one lover? Why didn’t you tell me this years ago?’ Realising the futility of her search, she would have given up long ago. But then she wouldn’t have made the trek west, or met Paul.
And she wouldn’t have found the Carey connection to her mother. Was that all for nothing?
Or was it more than coincidence?
‘Parents often keep little secrets from their children in their efforts to be good role models. As soon as I realised I was pregnant, I stopped drinking and smoking. And if it’s any consolation, there were just two young men who drew me.’
‘Two young men?’
The twins? She hadn’t thought her stomach could sink lower, but it plummeted into darkness like the deepest chasm of the Mariana Trench.
‘So even if it’s true—that you really don’t know which man is my father—there are only two possibilities.’
Jacob or Joshua?
Serena’s mind whirled. After each conversation when she’d asked, and her mother denied knowledge of who her father was, she had assumed her mother had been protecting the man. Her adolescent self even wondered if he’d been married, but she’d never thought her mother simply didn’t know whose genetic material she carried. It was like some strange farce, too improbable for words.
‘Can you remember the names of the possibilities?’
‘I remember, but—’
‘Is Jacob Carey one of the names you remember?’
Dawn’s fingers stopped fidgeting and she met Serena’s gaze. ‘I’m reasonably sure your father was Starman.’
‘Reasonably sure as in I-really-don’t-know-but-this-is-wishful-thinking-right?’
‘Fairly certain.’ A hard line of pink coloured her mother’s cheeks and she sat, straight-backed and determined to convince Serena.
‘What sort of name is that? And why settle on … Starman when you said yourself there were two men?’
‘The first night around our campfire, we each chose a name for the duration of the festival. And contrary to what I said the other day, I fell in love with him over the course of the festival. Maybe it was love at first sight, who knows? But once he was in my orbit, I wasn’t aware of anyone else.’
Serena tried to imagine Jacob Carey as Starman. He was a nice man, focused on his family and clearly deeply in love with his wife. But what about twenty-seven years ago? Had he been the sort to cheat on his young, pregnant wife? Had Jacob inspired such a depth of love in her mother that even now, she smiled at the memory of him?
With a start, Serena realised how hypocritical that was. After all, she had begun falling for Paul Carey in little more than a week, a day, an hour …
‘Do you know anything about him? Was he married when you met him? What did he look like?’
‘Darling, he was tall, dark-haired, gorgeous, caring, and sang like an angel. And he made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I didn’t need anything else. Besides, it was almost thirty years ago. People’s looks change.’ She fiddled with the paisley scarf at her throat, and brushed a hand across the lengthening spikes of grey hair.
When was the last time Serena had seen her mother without a concealing scarf or beanie firmly in place? Before chemo, Dawn’s hair had been thick and richly auburn, but her cancer and the aggressive treatment had stripped away her distinctive feature and thinned her round cheeks.
Chiding herself for reminding her mother of the physical changes she had endured, Serena bowed her head. In looks, her mother was different, but how could anyone not recognise her distinctive voice, and her wonderful musicianship? Surely there should be some zing in Jacob’s memory of the woman he’d taken to bed?
‘You saw Paul’s father at the picnic. He’s tall, and I know he’s mostly grey-haired now, but did he strike a chord with you? Apparently
he plays guitar and sings—’
‘A pleasant man, but no hallelujah chorus singing in the background. Oh no!’ Her mother covered her mouth and stared at Serena. ‘Is that what Max told you? That Paul’s father is your father?’
‘Yes. He wouldn’t tell me that if he had no proof.’
‘That man would tell you whatever served his purpose best. My guess is that he saw you again and realised he’d made a huge mistake letting you go.’
Was Max that manipulative? Did he really love her in some twisted way that allowed him to lie to her? About something he knew was dear to her heart?
The possibility was too big, too awful to wrap her head around. Besides, there was the twins’ presence at the festival.
‘But Jacob and Joshua were at that festival, Mum. The year I was conceived, they stopped off on their way home from a conference in Brisbane. And they both remembered your name without my mentioning it. You must have made quite an impression on them.’
Her mother’s cheeks paled and she clasped her pendant. ‘I remember the twins—lovely men, both of them—but set your mind at rest; Paul’s father is not your father. Nor his uncle, despite Josh being a ladies man. He and his brother left before Starman arrived.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘Mum, do you want me to come in with you?’ Serena looked through the shop window at baskets filled with wool, quilting packs, and assorted craft items, and decided her mother would be well occupied while she popped into the courthouse.
‘I’ll be fine. I might go for a walk up the street after I’ve had a browse so text me when you’re done.’
Dawn had loved long walks before her treatment, and this was the first time since chemo began that she had been interested and energetic enough to even contemplate the activity. In the midst of her personal dilemma about Paul, this progress in her mother’s recovery made Serena want to skip and jump in circles around Dawn. She settled for a hug and a bright smile. ‘Okay. Don’t buy up the whole shop.’
Leaving her mother to lose herself in the neat displays of the craft store, she strolled past the bakery. Shar was sticky-taping a discount flyer for the newly opened craft shop to the inside of the bakery window. Serena smiled and gave Shar a quick wave before she turned and crossed the street.
Starting Over Page 14