‘Today’s Wednesday, Susan.’
‘That’s what I meant. Wednesday. Yes, silly mistake. Hockey practice is always on a Wednesday.’
‘I’m happy to wait for her.’
‘I suppose you are,’ she said unhappily, and she sent a frantic glance towards her neighbour’s windows as if she was suddenly afraid someone might see her with this unsavoury character on her doorstep.
‘It’s been a long time,’ Daniel reminded her. ‘Too long. I have to see Jess.’ He offered Susan his most charming smile. ‘But I don’t mind if she’s a little late; it gives us time to talk.’
‘Talk?’ she squeaked.
‘I’m sure there are things we need to discuss before I take Jess back to Queensland with me.’
‘Daniel, you can’t. For God’s sake. Be reasonable.’
There was a flick of the curtain at the neighbour’s window. Daniel turned and waved to the woman peeking there, and she promptly vanished.
Susan gasped.
‘Don’t you think it would be better if we discussed this inside?’ he said.
When she didn’t reply, Daniel took two steps forward, and she stepped back into the hallway.
‘You can’t turn me away, Susan.’
Looking pained, she lifted a hand in a half-hearted flourish, indicating that he should enter.
‘Wait here.’
Daniel waited, as she’d ordered, in the middle of her hallway. Glancing past her, he could see through to the lounge, and he thought he caught a movement reflected in the mirror on the far wall.
‘Do you have a visitor?’
‘No!’ Backing towards the lounge with her arms splayed on either side, Susan looked like a basketballer in defence, trying to block his way.
‘Who is it, Grandma?’ called a girl’s voice.
Jess!
An adrenaline rush, violent as a lightning strike, coursed through Daniel.
‘Jess?’
His little girl was in there? His heart thrashed against the wall of his chest. He took a step towards Susan, and she raised a shaking hand to halt him.
‘Jess is here,’ he hissed, through gritted teeth.
Susan began to shake her head, but she stopped. Her eyes were almost pleading. She opened her mouth, and then shut it and pressed her fingers to her lips.
He stared at her carefully painted fingernails pressed against carefully painted lips. ‘I want to see my daughter.’
‘Dad?’
And suddenly Jess was there, in the doorway behind Susan, looking impossibly tall in a navy blue school uniform with a starched white collar and dark stockings, and shiny black shoes. Her dark hair had been cut short into a neat bob that curved elegantly in to her jawline. She looked so grown up—so different from when he’d last seen her, eighteen long months ago.
But it was Jess, his Jess.
Her mouth dropped open when she saw him. She stood ramrod-still, her blue eyes huge, immobilised by shock. And then her face contorted into a wobbly smile. Her eyes sparkled with sudden dampness. ‘Daddy!’
‘Hello, Jess.’
Jess was shaking, and then she began to cry. Daniel’s vision blurred, but somehow he stumbled past Susan. And then his daughter was in his arms, clinging to him, hugging him hard.
All his pain, all his longing, crashed over him. Holding her tightly, he felt sobs heave in his chest. Oh, God, he’d missed Jess so much. And here she was at last—his little girl.
His emotions were in tumult. He felt so buoyed up by the joy of reunion, and yet shattered by the instant realisation that he’d paid a dreadful price. His little girl was so grown up now, almost a stranger.
His tears blinded him. He was shaking. All he could do was hold Jess against his chest and hug her close.
‘I didn’t think I was ever going to see you,’ she whimpered. ‘I missed you so much, Daddy.’
‘I know, chicken, I know. I missed you, too.’ He stroked her sleek, neat hair. ‘I missed you so much, baby. Every day.’
They shared watery smiles. Daniel traced her soft cheek with nervous fingertips. ‘You’re so pretty.’
‘Grandma said you weren’t coming. But deep down I’ve been hoping.’
‘I’ve come to take you home.’
‘Home?’ She looked up at him, her eyes shining through tears. ‘Home to Ironbark?’
‘Yes.’
‘You mean that? You’re not kidding?’
‘No, I’m home for good now, and I want you there with me, Jess.’
‘Oh, wow!’ Jess let out her breath on a huff of excitement. ‘Oh, wow!’ She jigged up and down with delight. ‘I can’t believe it. That’s so excellent. I’ve missed everything about home. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed Grasshopper. My friends.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Susan cried behind them. ‘Oh, dear.’
Jess pulled a small distance out of Daniel’s arms, her face anxious as she looked at her grandmother. ‘What’s the matter, Grandma?’
‘I’m going to lose you,’ Susan cried, dabbing a white linen handkerchief to her eyes.
Daniel saw Susan’s tears, and the confusion in Jess’s face, and felt his throat constrict. Throughout his marriage Susan had been a manipulative pain in the backside, but she loved Jess. He had no doubt of that. The poor kid was torn by conflicted loyalties.
But Daniel was quite certain he knew what should happen here. Lily had helped him to see that. He was Jess’s father. In a just world, he and his daughter would never have been separated. And now he’d come to claim her back.
‘Jess,’ he said. ‘Your grandmother and I haven’t had a chance to talk about this. Do you think you could give us a few minutes alone?’
Jess tightened her hold on Daniel. She glanced in Susan’s direction, but then her eyes locked with Daniel’s, and she seemed to sense his determination to take charge.
‘Would you like me to make some tea?’ she asked.
Daniel swallowed his surprise. His little girl made tea? ‘Yes, thank you,’ he said. ‘That would be lovely.’
‘Is that all right with you, Grandma?’
Still dabbing at her eyes, Susan nodded. ‘Of course, dear.’
Jess smiled at them both, stood on tiptoes and kissed Daniel’s chin, and then hurried to her grandmother and kissed her cheek before dancing in the direction of the kitchen.
In the doorway, she paused and turned back. ‘Dad?’
‘Yes, Jess?’
‘What’s it like at home?’
He caught the wistful note in her voice, and his heart ached for her. He knew just how she felt. They’d both been in exile for far too long.
‘Ironbark’s much the same,’ he told her. ‘The river’s still got plenty of water in it. But the land’s overgrown and weedy. I’ve got a lot of clearing to do. A—a friend helped to clean up the house, though, so it’s pretty good.’ And then, as an afterthought, he added, ‘I have a new dog.’
She beamed at him. ‘What sort?’
‘Just a mongrel—a kelpie-collie cross. We called her Smiley.’
‘We?’ Jess’s expression grew tense, her eyes sharp and wary. ‘Is someone else living there with you?’
‘Not any more, Jess. But there was a woman who—there was a friend—the one who was helping. She’s gone home now.’
Jess accepted this without further comment and, sending them another quick smile, she disappeared.
Daniel and Susan sat.
‘You’ve taken wonderful care of Jess, Susan,’ Daniel said. ‘I really am very grateful. For everything.’
‘She means a great deal to me.’
‘And to me.’
Over the coffee table, their eyes met, and the light of battle glinted in Susan’s.
‘I know you love her,’ Daniel said carefully. ‘And I understand, too, that Jess is an important link to Cara for you. I have no intention of cutting you out of Jess’s life. But—’ he paused significantly ‘—but you must accept that I’m her father. You went out of your way to convince
me that Jess was better off staying on with you, that you’re the best person to bring her up. Not me. I’ve decided I can’t possibly agree with you. My daughter should live with me now.’
Susan sat very straight in her chair, with her hands carefully folded in her lap. Now that her silly attempt to hide Jess had been exposed, she was a figure of dignity.
‘There are things you need to accept, Daniel,’ she said. ‘The most important is that Jess is very happily settled into school here now. Given the difficult circumstances, it took some time for her to make new friends, but at last she’s happy.’
‘I’ll admit that shifting her from school to school is not ideal,’ Daniel said, just as firmly. ‘But Jess is still young. She has another year after this before high school. I think she’ll adjust.’
Susan cocked her head to one side and eyed him shrewdly. ‘You’ve changed.’
He thought of Lily, and felt a rush of gratitude and happiness. ‘Yes, I think I have.’
‘Is a woman involved?’
Shocked that she’d arrived at that conclusion so quickly, Daniel was momentarily lost for words.
‘I’m right,’ said Susan. ‘There is a woman in the picture, isn’t there?’
He mimed a seesawing action with his hand. ‘Early days.’
Susan studied him a little longer, and then set her shoulders back, straighter than ever.
Daniel leaned forward, hardly daring to breathe. He could see her mind working fast, and he prayed he could get through this without a messy confrontation.
At last Susan said, ‘I do believe you deserve some happiness, Daniel.’
Another shock—even greater than the last.
‘You’re a decent man, and you’ve had some terrible unfairness in your life.’
‘That—that’s kind of you to say so, Susan.’
‘I’m sure you know I wasn’t happy when Cara married you. I didn’t like to think of her stuck in the Outback with no life to speak of. But I have to admit you were good to her.’
She looked down at her manicured hands, now clenched tightly in her lap. ‘I’ve had to live with the painful knowledge that if I had not interfered in your marriage Cara might never have left you.’ Her mouth wobbled, and she had to take a moment to gather control. ‘If I’d minded my own business, my daughter might still be alive. And Jess might still have a mother.’
Abruptly, she stood and turned from Daniel, and, like a grand dame of the stage about to deliver a meaningful line in a play, she fixed her gaze on a spot above a vase of pink and white lilies and pressed one hand against the pearls at her throat. ‘Daniel, you’re right. You should take your daughter home.’
He jumped to his feet. ‘Thank you,’ he said, hardly daring to believe they’d reached this point.
‘I’ll miss her terribly, of course.’
‘I know. I promise Jess will keep in touch.’
Susan looked at him then, and she managed a small, wavering smile. ‘Perhaps she can come to visit me sometimes in her school holidays.’
‘Of course.’
‘And you should encourage her to write letters.’
‘I will.’
An uneasy silence descended, and Daniel toyed with the idea of making a hasty escape before Susan changed her mind, or issued further demands.
It was almost a relief when a chirpy voice called, ‘You guys finished, yet?’
Once more Daniel’s and Susan’s gazes met, this time without hostility. They nodded silently, acknowledging that the thing was settled.
Daniel said, ‘Yes, we’re finished.’
Jess popped her head around the corner. ‘Is everything OK, then? Am I going home?’
‘Of course you are, darling,’ said Susan, with a careful smile.
‘Excellent.’ Jess beamed at them. ‘Who’s ready for a perfectly made cup of Earl Grey tea?’
Lily sat on the smooth, sun-warmed rocks below Fern’s cottage and looked out at Sugar Bay. She’d always loved this view, with the white gulls circling over the sparkling water and the boats dancing whenever gentle waves rocked them at their moorings. But today she took little notice of the bay. Her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
She was thinking about Ironbark, with its sleepy river, cool and inviting beneath over-hanging paperbarks. She was picturing paddocks dotted with cattle, and Daniel’s homestead and its majestic backdrop of green-clad mountains, the cassia tree with its carpet of fallen pink blooms. She thought of Jess’s room and the care she’d taken when she’d cleaned it.
Daniel might be back from Sydney by now. Was Jess with him? She would try to telephone him again this evening. She was desperate to know how things had gone.
They’d only spoken once since she’d got back, when she’d phoned to tell him the good news that Audrey Halliday had been surprisingly co-operative.
Unlike Fern.
Lily sighed as she remembered her mother’s disappointing reaction when she’d arrived home with a generous cheque to be paid into Fern’s account. Fern had looked so genuinely shocked that Lily had feared she might faint.
‘Sit down, Mum,’ she’d said. They’d been in the garden, overlooking the beach, and she’d pointed to a wooden bench nearby. ‘Don’t get yourself upset.’
‘I’m all right, dear,’ Fern had protested. ‘But you’ve got to explain this. What would I need with all that money?’
‘Mum?’ Lily had gaped at her. ‘You know perfectly well why you need it.’
Fern fingered a wisp of grey hair that had blown across her eyes. ‘Oh…the operation.’
‘Well, of course it’s for the operation. Now we’ll be able to get you an appointment with that nice Dr Peel in Brisbane straight away. He said he’d find a place for you on his list.’
Fern looked out to sea, and a gust of wind sent her long, silvery hair flying over her face. Lily couldn’t see her expression, but she felt suddenly ill.
‘Fern Mooney, you are not going to be silly and refuse to have this operation. I won’t hear of it.’
Bracing herself with her stick, Fern bent stiffly forward to pick a stem of lavender from a bush growing through the fence, and lifted it to her nostrils. ‘I’d be beholden to that woman,’ she said quietly.
‘Not to her. To Dad. And he’s gone now, so you don’t have to feel beholden to anyone. Dad should have given you that money years ago. You know that. Audrey knows it. That’s why she’s giving it to you now. Anyway, it’s only a tiny fraction of all she inherited.’
‘So you went to see her? When you were out west, you went begging?’
‘Only because you won’t ever ask for anything,’ Lily cried, growing alarmed. ‘All your life you’ve gone without. It was OK to be a martyr while you were young and healthy, but now you really need the money.’
If only Fern could be a little selfish. Just once.
In recent years, Lily had come to her own conclusions about why her parents’ marriage hadn’t worked. Marcus was ambitious and driven, and Fern, hating the idea of a life in the limelight, had simply stood back and let him take off for the stratosphere without her.
Fern sighed. ‘You’ve always been impossibly spontaneous, Lily.’
‘Please, Mum, don’t do this to me. Dr Peel is so confident. He says you’ll be a new woman. You’ll be free to really enjoy your golden years.’
Fern raised her bony hand and stroked Lily’s cheek. ‘This operation has always been more important to you than it has to me.’
‘But you will have it, won’t you? Think of the alternative—getting more and more crippled. Being bedridden. All the pain.’
Fern dismissed this with a shake of her head.
‘If you won’t think of yourself, have the operation for me, then,’ Lily pleaded. ‘And for—for your grandchildren.’
‘Grandchildren?’
‘Theoretical grandchildren.’
A wistful smile played across Fern’s face, and her eyes danced. ‘What a delightful incentive. Do you have a theoretical father i
n mind for these theoretical children?’
‘Only in—in theory.’ Lily blushed. ‘But don’t get sidetracked. You will have this operation now, won’t you?’
Fern’s eyes remained sweetly wistful. And hopeful.
Lily held her breath.
Looking out at the curve of white sand and the azure waters lapping it, Fern said, ‘I must admit, I hate the threat of that wheelchair.’
‘Just think. You’ll be able to stay in this house. You’ll be able to garden again, and go for long walks along the beach. You can go swimming and snorkelling.’
‘It really was very kind and brave of you to go to all that effort for me, Lily. I’m being an ungrateful wimp, aren’t I?’
‘Yes,’ Lily agreed gently. ‘But you’re going to be sensible now, aren’t you?’
Fern smiled. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’
Lily had been so relieved, she’d almost cried as she hugged her mother. Now, as she sat lost in thought, she heard her mother calling her name, and she turned to see Fern standing at the dilapidated paling fence that separated her cottage’s garden from the beach.
Fern was leaning heavily on her walking stick, while her loose cotton dress flapped about her in the breeze, and Lily winced at the thought of the effort it had taken for her to leave the house. Each step must have been agony.
Thank heavens Dr Peel had been true to his word. Fern’s operation was scheduled for next week.
Leaving the rocks, Lily hurried up the beach.
‘There was a phone call for you,’ Fern called.
Lily thought of Daniel, and her heart skipped a beat. ‘Who was it?’
‘A man called Daniel Renton.’
Lily kicked at the rickety gate to free it from a tangle of goat’s-foot creeper and straggling grevillea bush. ‘What did he say?’
Fern shook her head and laughed. ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t get anything out of him except that he wanted to speak to you. I told him I’d have to find you, and that I’m a bit slow and shaky on my pins, so he’s ringing back in ten minutes.’
‘Right.’ Lily’s heart was pounding. She was desperate to speak to Daniel. Ten minutes felt like a lifetime.
She helped her mother back into the house. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea,’ she said, and began quickly to fill the kettle at the sink.
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