by Allie Little
Riley stands with hands defensively on his hips, clearly at a loss. We both stare at each other momentarily before watching Catherine disappear through the entrance to the hospital.
Riley moves to cup my face in his hands. “Don’t listen to her, baby. I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care. I never wanted the money anyway.”
I shift away. “I need some time,” I say, backing away. “You and your father are working with her. Daniel’s mother. Your father stands to lose millions if I stay. I don’t want to be responsible for that.”
“I don’t care about the fucking money. I don’t care if he loses everything. His money means nothing to me. You know that. I tried to get away. I made it on my own. You don’t need time. We’ve lost so much of it already. Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure.” Tears fall in steady streams over my cheeks as I push past. “I just need time.” He grabs for my arm but I shake him away.
Brady stands beside the car, his large frame leaning against the hood, arms crossed over his body. He gives a strangely solemn nod as I pass.
37
Riley
Grace heads for the Quarantine Station at North Head, endless onyx seas meeting the wide expanse of clear night sky. The rain has evaporated but a hazy fog sits dully in my head.
“Wait, Grace! You can’t go up there – it’s too bloody dangerous!”
She makes for the isolated road, winding through bush toward the headland. On foot, it’s a fair distance to the edge of the cliffs. At night, with only the stars above, she threads her way through the trees.
“Let her go, man. Just give her space.”
“But she’s going up there.” I point toward the dark, shadowy bushland on either side of the road. “It’s not safe.”
I make to follow but Brady stops me. “After what I just witnessed, I’d give her five minutes, mate. She’ll be back.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Brady’s phone buzzes and he pulls it from his jeans. He swipes at the screen. “What’s up, Gem? Yep, we found her. She’s … okay.” Brady listens to Gemma intently for a moment, his face clouded with a frown. “That’s dreadful news. Don’t worry, we’ll get her there quickly.” Brady cuts the call.
“What’s happened?”
“It’s Bess. It’s looking like she might not make it.”
We watch Grace disappear into the night, a whisper quiet figure under wind-stooped trees.
“I’ve got to go after her, man. She needs to see her Gran.”
Brady nods an agreement. “From what Gem said, it doesn’t sound too good. You bring Grace back and I’ll wait for you here.”
I follow Grace into the bush, the road lit only by stars in the sky above. In the distance, Grace paces determinedly toward the sea. She strides away, her movements discernible in her resolve to put as much distance between herself and me.
I break into a run. When she’s out of view, the panic annihilates me, mixed with the blinding terror of losing her again. Memories of picnics and sunshine, dolphins in the bay, the way her laughter lights up her soul. The way her smile has the capacity to raze me to the ground. Without her I’m nothing. Incinerated. Devoured by emptiness. I’d give up all the wealth in the world, in the entirety of the universe, if it meant she was by my side.
She’s resting on wet grass overlooking the ocean when I find her, her face wet with tears, her frail body shaking. Shrouded in the soft weave of the blanket which does nothing to warm her bones. She’s talking to herself, words babbling from her mouth as if in deep conversation, although no-one’s around. She gestures with her hands with an air of defeat, crushed with the weight of Daniel and Catherine, her spirit finally conquered. Overwhelmed by trauma. Grief. Beaten. Done.
“You can’t let them do this to us, baby.”
She jumps, unaware of my presence. “Leave me be, Riley. I need to think.”
“There’s nothing to think about.”
I don’t close the distance between us or move to hold her. She continues to gaze vacantly across the sea. Empty. Indifferent to me.
“You should go. We can’t be together.”
I give her a minute we probably don’t have before speaking gently. “Babe, you need to come with me. You need to see your Gran. Now. She mightn’t have much time.”
She looks up, shocked, her face streaked with tears. “What? Where is she? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Brady just took the call from Gem. We need to go, babe. Come on.”
Helping her from the ground, she takes my hand but her legs give way. I cradle her in my arms as she collapses against me.
She buries her head into my jumper. “Oh no, not Gran. I can’t lose her too. I don’t think I can take much more.”
***
Brady drives from Manly to the large teaching hospital in the north of the city, where Bess lies hooked up to oxygen whispering softly through her nose. She’s pale, almost lifeless, the beeping machines a harsh reality. Grace hesitates, holds back, as if scared to go near her.
“It’s okay. Go hold her hand.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t do this again. I said goodbye to my parents once, when I was only fourteen. I’m not sure I can do this again.” She inhales a wretched, miserable breath, steeling herself.
“You can do this. I’m here. Go hold her hand, tell her you love her.” I squeeze Grace’s hand and gently move her forward.
Once Grace is closer, she exhales suddenly, covering her grandmother’s body with her own. She hugs her tightly, weeping into Gran’s hospital gown. “You can’t leave me, Gran. Not you too, you’re all I have now.”
My heart breaks. “That’s not true, Grace. You have me.”
She turns her head, gazing from the bed to meet my eyes. “But do I? After tonight? I don’t know what to do.”
I take her hand, and with the other reach for Bess’s. I look Grace straight in the eyes. “You will never lose me. I will never leave you. I promise, that wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. Without you Grace, there’s no purpose. No light. No fire in my soul. But with you I’m whole. Better. I’m worthy.” I look at Bess and squeeze her soft hand. “Bess, do you hear me? She will always have me, if she wants me. She won’t be alone.”
The heart monitor skips several beats, then resumes its steady bleeping. Grace releases my hand and reaches for Bess. “I love you, Gran,” she sobs. “You’ve been like a mother to me. Thank you for always being there.” She wipes at her tears. “And I’m sorry. So sorry. If it wasn’t for me…”
Gran’s eyelids flutter open, the cornflower blue barely visible beneath her dark lashes. She takes a few short, sharp breaths. “I love you too, beautiful girl,” she whispers, her breath irregular. She closes her eyes softly, then opens them again. “Go and be happy. Don’t be sad, my girl. Be happy. And love will find a way.”
“I will, Gran. I promise.” Grace sits quietly by her grandmother’s bed, holding her hand, brushing her soft hair away from her pale face. Bess gasps quietly as the heart monitor flat-lines, drawing nurses swiftly into the room. Grace releases Gran’s hand and moves back, watching as a look of pure peace washes gently over Bess’s face.
38
Grace
Gran’s funeral passes in a blur of grief and pain. Without her I feel lost, unanchored; adrift in a sea of emotion and sorrow, barely staying afloat.
As a distraction, I plan Riley’s twenty-sixth birthday. He was true to his word. After Gran passed, the business deal with Daniel’s mother fell through. Catherine stayed true to her word also and severed the partnership. Richard took fiery aim at Riley for his financial loss, but Riley stood strong against the incendiary burn of being cut from his father’s Will. But Riley wouldn’t leave me, nor allow me to leave him.
“Gem, we need decorations. Fairy lights, balloons, we need to make this pretty.”
“Pretty? For Riley’s surprise party? Riley doesn’t go for … pretty. Present company excluded, obviously.”
> I swipe at her arm. “No, Gem. I’m serious. Blue Swimmer has to look gorgeous. Beachier than beach. Fairy-er than Fairy Bower. More festive than Christmas time. Maybe Stanley can help.”
Gemma rolls her eyes. “I’m sure Stan would love to help. Decorating is right up his alley.”
I giggle and find Stan downstairs with Mia and Lucy who I’ve called in to help with the extra-special evening. I find him arranging those flourishes of waxy greenery and strange red berries he loves so much.
“Stan?”
He looks over with a grin. “Yes, chicken? It’s so good to have you back. We’ve all been so worried. And now to be planning a surprise for Riley’s birthday? Very cool.”
It was great to have normality back. Despite missing Gran like there was a gaping hole in my heart, being here and spending time with Riley helped me feel whole. It was a good feeling.
“Can you do the decorations? I’m hopeless with all that, and you’re so …” I look around at the floral arrangements adorning Swimmer, “…talented.”
Stan laughs, appreciating the compliment. “I’m on it, chicken. Tell me the look you’re going for and I’ll hit the shops.”
“I want it to look pretty.”
He cocks his head to the side. “That’s a fairly broad request, but I like it! I can do lots with that. Pretty is my thing.” He flounces out of the restaurant and down the street with a spring in his step and I can’t help but smile. Riley was going to love this.
Heading back upstairs to find Gem, she guiltily cuts a phone call short when I make an appearance. She shoves the phone in her pocket and gives a sheepish smile.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she retorts, too quickly. “Nothing at all, honey.”
“I know you too well, Gemma Washington. You’re up to something.”
“I’m not,” she protests, laughing. “I’m just trying to help you plan Riley’s surprise party. But I’ve been thinking about the decorations. Why don’t you make it pretty in the sense of … romantic? Rose petals on the tables. Candles absolutely everywhere. You could even hang love-heart lanterns from the ceiling.”
“That all sounds gorgeous, Gem, but it’s not really the look I was going for.”
“Oh, go on. Let him know how much you care. He’s a great big softy, that Riley. He loves a bit of romance.”
“It’s not supposed to be romantic, Gem. It’s supposed to be a celebration.”
“Couldn’t it be a celebration of your romance?”
“Gemma, it’s a birthday party. You made sure all the guests were fully aware it’s a surprise, didn’t you? And reinforced that they need to arrive exactly on time? We can’t have Riley arriving before the guests.”
Mia and Lucy arrive excitedly with lists of canapes to accompany the cocktails. Things were falling perfectly into place. There was an excess of champagne and wine, beers were chilling in the fridge, and the girls were ready to wait on the guests.
Stan materialises soon after with armfuls of fairy lights and lanterns. He grabs the ladder from the storeroom downstairs and proceeds to curtain them from the ceiling, draping them out onto the balcony overlooking the sea.
“I chose lanterns rather than balloons. Balloons are just tacky, darling.” Stanley carefully hangs lanterns from the string of cascading fairy lights, completing the room. “Nicely understated, wouldn’t you agree?” With a deft flick of the wrist he turns them on at the switch, illuminating the room.
Gemma gasps. “Oh Stan! They’re beautiful.”
I hug him appreciatively. “You’ve outdone yourself, Stan. Thank you!”
“Now all we need is for the guests to arrive on time, and the guest of honour to be suitably surprised,” says Gem, perusing the room.
“Oh, I just remembered! I have to pick up Riley’s present. I’ll be back really soon.”
Stan and Gemma share a surreptitious glance that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Take your time, sweetie,” suggests Stan, fluffing out a few cushions on the balcony sofa. “We’ll be here, holding the fort, just waiting for the guests to arrive.”
“Yes, off you go. No need to rush, we’ll be here in case any guests arrive early.” Subtlety had never been Gemma’s strong suit. Something was going on, I was sure of it. I just couldn’t for the life of me work out what it might be.
When I reach the jewellery store, the jeweller is deep in conversation on the phone. I wait several minutes before he attends to me, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
“You’re here to collect the necklace?” he queries, peering above the rim of his glasses. The pallor of his skin suggests he doesn’t see much sun.
“Yes, I ordered the custom Celtic bird. White gold on leather.”
He rifles through his papers, no computer database of orders in sight. “Ah, yes. Here we go. Just need to polish it up for you, situate it on the leather strapping, then you’re right to go.” He pulls the Celtic bird from a drawer behind the glass counter, removes it from a zip lock plastic bag and holds it out. “Is it to your satisfaction?”
The bird shone softly in the late afternoon light. It was perfectly sized and the artistic lines were beautiful, humble and discreet. This bird represented freedom and choice; the liberty of independence. The power of autonomy and free will. I hoped Riley loved it as much as I did.
“It’s perfect.”
He glances over the bird then pulls out a soft cloth. He shines it for an inordinately long time, then threads it onto a strip of durable black leather.
After paying for the gift, he again takes an excessive time to present it in a gift box of gold, cushioned with soft black velvet inside. The jeweller is in slow mode, unhurried, as if working in a dawdling country town, but considering we’re in the hubbub of Manly, it’d be nice if he’d make it snappier.
“I’m in a bit of a rush, actually. Have to get back for a surprise party.”
He glances at me again over the rim of his glasses, a slow, gradual look. “You can’t hurry the artist, honey,” he says in a measured tone. “You want it to look special, yes?”
“Yes, yes, of course I do,” I say, immediately sorry I’d tried to hasten the man. “It’s just I’ve got guests arriving and I really need to get back.”
The jeweller gives me a relaxed, drawling smile. “There is no surprise more magical than the gift of being loved, wouldn’t you agree? I do believe love will triumph this evening.” He gives me a knowing wink, seemingly out of character with his staid personality.
The man was unusual, but I agreed with his sentiment. Perhaps love had already triumphed. We’d survived the extraordinary ordeal of Daniel. I was trying to come to terms with the loss of Gran, which inched closer to bearable as each week passed. And now Riley had demonstrated his love by choosing us over his father and his fraudulent business practices. The way I felt about Riley – it was completely impossible to love the man more.
The jeweller ties a silver bow around the box, offering it to me proudly. “There you go. All done.”
Taking the box from his hands, the jeweller looks me deeply in the eyes. He lowers his voice and begins to ramble earnestly. “Remember tonight. The bird of freedom signifies new beginnings, and with it comes responsibility. You must adhere to the bird’s calling. The power of liberty will set you free, for this is what it stands for. But within your freedom must lie respect. Both respect for yourself and respect for others; in what you hold dear. Trust in the bird.”
The man was sounding like a prophet or seer. Unsure how to respond other than a simple, “I will,” I back from the store while he nods knowingly.
Back at Swimmer, the restaurant is eerily quiet. Not a soul can be found downstairs, which is unusual. Glancing around, touches of romance begin to leap out at me. Deep-red rose petals are scattered around the room, dusting both the floor and tables. Tiny candles flicker light upon the rough stone walls, dancing in unison with the ocean breeze. Fairy lights twinkle like stars in the fading light of sunset, and
Gemma’s love heart lanterns float prettily above the stairs.
So, Gemma had got her wish. She wanted tonight to be a celebration of romance. Sneaky bugger. Well, I had to admit that Swimmer looked exquisite this evening. I gaze over the sea, the sunset shining hues of red and gold across the water. A perfect fitting for tonight. Riley would be so surprised. I couldn’t wait to see his face at the revelation of the party.
When my feet hit the stairs, a tune begins to play. Softly at first, then gradually increasing in volume. Initially unsuccessful in placing the tune, I soon realise Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud is floating softly through the air. Taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere and tender music, I wonder where all the guests are. Riley would be here any moment, and I needed to make sure everything was in place. The decorations were perfect, the music was slightly sappy for a birthday surprise, but it was a beautiful love song and would just have to do.
Creeping up the stairs layered in scented rose petals, soft shuffles and hurried movements begin to take place upstairs. Gemma must be getting everyone into position for Riley’s arrival. Good on her. She was really taking this party preparation seriously.
Moments later, emerging at the top of the stairs …
“Surprise! Surprise!” Throngs of guests begin to chant and clap. “Woohoo, Gracie! Surprise!”
“No, no!” I hush them. “The surprise isn’t for me, it’s for …”
And then I see him. Standing there in the sharpest of suits on the balcony overlooking the sea. Tall, dark and incredibly handsome, just like the day I’d met him here at Swimmer. The glint in his eye says it all. A white rose is pinned to the lapel of his jacket, and he stands there nervously, formally, as if worried how I might receive him.