The Secretary's Secret
Page 12
‘Believe me, I’d wobble. I’d stay upright, but I’d wobble.’
She made it so easy to laugh.
‘Top up?’
She held up the jug and, before he knew what he was about, he found himself ensconced in the other chair, sipping more juice. ‘I have had some recent practice,’ he found himself confessing. ‘In Africa.’
She leaned forward. Her lips twitched. ‘Did your cabin fal down or something?’
He tried to warn himself that this was how her enchantments started—teasing, fun, laughter. He promised to bring a halt to it soon and get back to work. ‘How much would you laugh if I said yes?’
Her eyes danced. ‘I’d bray like a hyena, but…’
She suddenly sobered. ‘I understand you did some aid work?’
It was hardly a question, more a statement, but he nodded anyway. ‘How d’you know?’
‘The rumour mil at Hal am’s was ful of it before I left.’
‘I was part of a team that helped to build an orphanage.’ When he’d read the brochure he’d hoped that building an orphanage would help him forget Kit. And that it would help al ay some of the guilt raging through his soul.
She waved a finger at him. ‘You might like to act al hard and self-contained, Alex Hal am, but I have your number, buddy.’
He went to correct her, to tel her he was hard and heartless and that she’d be wise not to forget it, but before he could get the words out she said, ‘You’re nothing but a great big mushroom.’
That threw him. ‘Mushroom?’
She stared back at him in incomprehension for three beats, and then she chuckled. ‘Oops, marshmal ow. I meant to say marshmal ow. Baby brain, I tel you.’
He grinned. ‘Is this where I point out that hyenas don’t bray?’
‘Of course they do.’
She promptly gave her impression of a braying hyena and Alex almost fel out of his chair laughing.
‘That’s not a hyena, it’s a donkey!’
‘No, this is a donkey.’
When she gave her impression of a donkey, he lurched out of his chair to roar at ful -stretch on the ground. When he opened his eyes again he found himself staring up at an elderly lady.
Her lips twitched as she stepped over him on stil spry feet. ‘So kind of you to vacate your chair for me, young man.’
‘Hi, Grandma.’
Kit’s grandmother! Alex shot to his feet and did his best to dust himself off.
‘Alex, this is my grandmother, Patricia Rawlinson.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Rawlinson.’
‘It’s Patti, dear.’
‘Grandma, this is Alex Hal am.’
‘Ahh…’ Those piercing amber eyes—so like Kit’s
—turned to him again. ‘So you’re Alex. I’ve heard al about you.’
She said it exactly the same way Caro had on his first morning here. The col ar of his polo shirt tightened around his throat. Was she going to threaten him with a meat cleaver too?
‘I hope you mean to do the right thing by my granddaughter and great-grandchild.’
‘I…um…’ Al the fun and laughter Kit had created in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a feeling ‘doing right’ meant more than fixing Kit’s house up.
Those amber eyes gleamed and he didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust them any more than Caro’s spitfire green. ‘I’d eventual y like to see you make an honest woman of my granddaughter.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Kit snorted. ‘The way you let Granddad final y make an honest woman of you on Mum’s twenty-first birthday.’
‘I did say eventual y, dear.’
Kit’s
grandmother
hadn’t
married
Kit’s
grandfather til …
Both Kit and her grandmother laughed at whatever they saw in his face. ‘Relax, Alex,’ Kit ordered, her smile wide enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. The woman was a witch!
‘Grandma’s
just
teasing.’
She
tossed
her
grandmother an affectionate grin. ‘Behave, Gran.’
‘You young ones always want to spoil my fun.
Now, Kit, dear, can you explain those extraordinary noises you were making as I came around the side of the house?’
‘I was trying to show Alex the difference between a hyena’s bray and a donkey’s bray.’
‘Hyenas don’t bray, Kit, dear, they laugh. So, how did you get on?’
‘Only Alex can answer that.’
Two sets of identical eyes turned to him for confirmation. His lips final y twitched too. He found himself inclined to warm to Kit’s grandmother for knowing the difference between a laugh and a bray.
And for having eyes identical to Kit’s. ‘She got on perfectly.’
‘Excel ent.’
It struck him that when she’d been a younger woman, Patricia Rawlinson must’ve been very beautiful. She was stil striking now and she had to be at least seventy. Stil , his col ar remained tight around his neck. Hypothetical wal s threatened to close about him. He wanted out of this garden fast.
‘I’l …um…go put the jug on.’ No doubt they had loads to talk about. He edged towards the back door.
‘Hold on a moment, young Alex.’
He almost tripped up a back step. He couldn’t remember anyone ever cal ing him young Alex in his life.
‘I’d like to invite you both to a luncheon next weekend.’
Kit groaned. Alex’s eyebrow lifted. It wasn’t the reaction he’d have expected from her. Images of meat cleavers rose in his mind. Patti might know the difference between brays and laughs, but he’d bet she had a whole lot in common with Caro too.
‘What on earth is this one for?’ Kit asked. ‘And how much wil it cost me?’
‘This one is for breast cancer, dear. A gold coin donation is al that’s required. And I’d appreciate it if you could bring a plate.’
Kit’s eyes danced when they glanced at him. ‘Alex has been threatening to give me cooking lessons.’
‘Oh, darling, if he can cook, why bother learning?’
He’d have laughed if his col ar hadn’t pul ed so tight.
‘I’l definitely come to your luncheon. Alex wil have to be a maybe. It’l depend on whether any deliveries are scheduled for that day. We’ve had a couple of delays.’
His col ar promptly loosened. Kit had given him an out.
A new sick kind of nausea fil ed him then instead.
Maybe she didn’t want him to go to this luncheon.
Why on earth would she? He was going to let her down, wasn’t he? Maybe subconsciously she sensed that?
‘Can I ask Frank and Doreen along? And Caro?’
Of course she’d like to have her friends there. He rol ed his shoulders. Maybe she’d let him tag along too if he helped her bake a cake?
For Pete’s sake! It was only a stupid luncheon.
What did he want with one of those?
‘I saw Frank and Doreen out the front so I’ve invited them already. Caro and co are always welcome.’
Alex thrust himself through the back door, but not before he heard Patti ask, ‘Alex does mean to put your house back together, doesn’t he, dear?’
‘I believe that’s the plan.’
He closed the door and made safe his escape.
That night Alex dreamed he was searching through the endless rooms of that brooding mansion, searching for Chad again, the childish laughter always just out of reach.
And, just like the other times, he jerked awake, drenched in sweat and with Chad’s name on his lips.
CHAPTER TEN
ALEX dunked his paintbrush into the can of paint and set about slapping it on the neatly sanded, newly primed weatherboards of Kit’s cottage. White paint.
One corner of his mouth kicked up. She had chosen white for the mai
n body of the house and blue for the window and door trims. She’d snorted when he’d presented her with an array of colour cards with exotic names like fresh linen, grey gum, desert sand and sage. ‘I don’t want any of that modern nonsense, Alex. I’ve always wanted a white house with a blue trim. Ever since I was a little girl.
I’m not going to change my mind now.’
And she hadn’t.
So he was painting her house white with a blue trim, and found he was enjoying himself.
Next week he’d paint the interior—white ceilings, cream wal s. She wanted her house light and bright and airy. It was her house. He’d paint it any colour she wanted.
The new shower unit was due to arrive at the end of the week and then he could get to work on the bathroom. Once that was done, al that would be left was the nursery.
His gut clenched and his hand slowed. That would mean looking at baby stuff with Kit, wouldn’t it? He could imagine her face going al soft and misty as she looked at cribs and little blankets and changing tables with colourful mobiles. He dunked his paintbrush in the can of paint again and concentrated on transferring it to the weatherboards.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Kit had a way of making just about anything fun.
Besides, al that baby stuff could be ridiculously expensive. He slapped paint on with renewed vigour.
He had no intention of letting Kit pick up the tab for that.
Kit. The thought of her had images rising through him. His hand slowed, the paintbrush almost coming to a halt. Last night while he’d cooked dinner—a chore they’d taken in turns since the night of their fish barbecue—she’d laid stretched out ful -length on one of the sofas watching TV. She’d reached for the remote on the table behind and the action had stretched her T-shirt tight, giving him an eyeful of her baby bulge—smal , but unmistakable. And perfect.
He hadn’t been able to look away, even when she’d returned to her former position.
Beneath her shirt she carried his baby.
He’d stumbled back into the kitchen, trying to decipher the emotions tumbling through him.
His first instinct had been denial. He couldn’t get emotional y involved with this baby. He’d lost it al once before. He couldn’t go through that again. His second thought had been…
Hope?
Alex swiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and gave up al pretence of painting for the moment. The longer he stayed here with Kit the more it seemed possible that he could do what she wanted of him, be what she wanted—an involved father. The thought made his heart thud against his ribs again, just like it had last night.
He’d started tel ing himself that this time it would be different. As the child’s biological father, he’d have rights. Besides, Kit had more generosity in her little finger than Jacqueline had in her entire being.
Plans started racing through his mind. He could work in Sydney through the week and then shoot up here to Tuncurry for the weekends.
Better yet, he could relocate here. He set the paintbrush down and rested his hands on his knees, his mind racing even faster. Kit had said the tourism industry was booming. There’d be property development opportunities galore. He could set up an office in Forster that specialised in developing eco-tourist resorts.
And he could be a part of his child’s life.
What about Kit?
Al his plans slammed to a halt. He swal owed. He couldn’t give Kit what she wanted, what she needed.
What happens when she meets someone who can?
Sweat beaded his top lip, gathered at his nape and trickled a path of ice down his back. Eventual y Kit would meet someone and fal in love with them.
She’d marry. And his child would have a stepfather.
He tried to push back the darkness that threatened to swal ow him whole. He rubbed a fist across his brow. Kit deserved to find someone, to be happy, but…
but…
What then? What if she relocated to Perth or…or to America?
Why would this time be any different? Why should it al work out for him now?
Because he wanted it to?
A harsh laugh broke from a throat that ached.
Grabbing the paintbrush, he forced himself back to work. He’d be a fool to get his hopes up.
The back door slammed, jerking him out from beneath the darkness stealing over him.
‘Good to see Kit has you working so hard.’
He glanced down from his position on the scaffolding. Caro. Not holding a meat cleaver. ‘Nice to see you too,’ he drawled.
Kit emerged from the house with a tea tray. At her side trotted a dark-haired child of about four. A boy.
Alex froze.
He didn’t know why the sight of the child rocked him, but it did. To his core. He’d seen other children, of course, since he’d lost Chad, but…
He hadn’t talked to one, touched one.
His hand tightened around the paintbrush. Maybe it was the combination of a pregnant Kit and child.
Kit and child.
Kit and—
Chad would be about this child’s age now.
The thought slammed into him from nowhere and the strength drained from his legs. He braced a hand against a weatherboard. In the back of his mind he was dimly aware that the board was wet. Ignore the paint. Keep breathing.
Paint from his brush dripped onto his trainer. He clenched the paintbrush as if it were his last grip on reality as he tried to push the memories of Chad away, deep down into the unexplored parts of himself where they couldn’t torment him.
It didn’t work. Questions pounded at him.
Would Chad be the same size and shape as the child at Kit’s side? How tal would he be now? Had his hair darkened or grown lighter? The need to see Chad, to hold him, burst the straitjacket he normal y kept it bound to, and for a moment darkness swirled al around him.
‘Look, Mum, I’m helping Auntie Kit and I got the most important job—carrying the biscuits!’
‘Not just any biscuits, but chocolate biscuits,’ Caro said with what he guessed must be the appropriate amount of admiration. Thankful y she turned the child towards the outdoor chairs and table. ‘And you’re al owed to have one just as soon as you set them down.’
‘Alex, that looks great.’
Kit’s voice, her appreciation, pushed some of the darkness away and helped him breathe again. He did his best to ignore the childish patter behind him.
‘Would you like some tea?’
He nodded and final y found his voice. ‘I’l be down in a minute.’
She turned to carry the tea tray to the table, and Alex clenched his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing, tried to block the images that rose up to torment him, taunt him, remind him of al he’d lost.
Tonight he’d have that nightmare—the endless rooms in that mansion, the childish laughter always out of reach. Despair threatened his control. Some days he thought it would take his sanity. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he pushed it back, tamped it down. He couldn’t lose his mind. He had Kit’s house to finish.
He gritted his teeth. The mundane would al ay the nightmare. He opened his eyes, unclasped the paintbrush from fingers that had started to cramp and did his best to wipe the wet paint from his hand with a rag.
‘What are you doing?’
That childish voice came from almost directly beneath him. He stared at the weatherboards. He could do this. He’d wrapped his heart in ice once before. He could halt the thaw that Kit had somehow started and put it in deep freeze once again. He would not think about Chad.
He dragged in a breath. He didn’t turn around. ‘I’m painting your Auntie Kit’s house.’
‘My name is Davey.’
Another deep breath. ‘Mine’s Alex.’
‘Are you Auntie Kit’s boyfriend?’
The voice was even closer now, and the question made Alex blink. In another time, another place, he suspected it would’ve made him laugh. ‘I’m her friend.’
He had to hand it to the kid. He had great taste.
‘Can I help?’
And then Davey’s head appeared and Alex’s heart lurched. Davey had climbed up the side of the heart lurched. Davey had climbed up the side of the scaffolding. What if he fel ? ‘Hold on a minute, Tiger.’
His heart cramped. He’d always cal ed Chad Tiger. Don’t think about Chad!
Alex forced himself to move. He vaulted to the ground and then seized Davey beneath the armpits to swing him down too. ‘Your mum wil come after me with a meat cleaver if you—’
He couldn’t go on. He froze. Davey’s solid weight, his warmth, the trusting way he stared at Alex with dark-fringed eyes that were the same brown as Chad’s. Al of it was imprinted on his memory. A low moan threatened to burst from his chest. Chad would weigh this much now too. He’d stil be chubby-cheeked and chubby-legged like the last time Alex had seen him, held him, but he’d be tal er. He’d probably be asking awkward question and—
Who was letting Chad help paint a house or sand a chair or let him hand them tools while they tuned a car?
Pictures of Chad flashed through his mind. Chad running towards him to welcome him home from work, arms outstretched. Chad with his head thrown back, gurgling with laughter as Alex swung him around and around. Chad nestled against Alex’s chest, his breathing deep and even as he slept.
Alex started to shake.
‘Alex?’
Kit came into view. He barely heard her over the rush in his ears. The cramp in his chest grew until he thought he might crack in two. He wanted to haul this child into his arms and hold him close. He wanted…
He thrust Davey into Kit’s arms. ‘I…I have to go.’
He lurched around the side of the house. He didn’t stop at his car. He kept walking. Chad’s name echoed in his heart with every step. At some point Kit’s started up in there too.
Kit’s heart burned when Alex disappeared around the side of the house. His white-lipped stare, his wild dark eyes, the way his hands had clenched, it had almost made her cry out.
Davey had reminded him of Chad! Oh, why hadn’t she thought? She should have realized.