No Place Like You

by Marnie St Clair

  ‘Josh?’ A quiet, uncertain query. Soft footfalls as she stood and approached.

  ‘It wasn’t cancer. He was already dead.’ It came out in a broken, almost inaudible whisper, totally unrecognisable as his voice.

  He knew from her intake of breath that she’d heard him. She stepped in close. Her hands came to rest on the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry, Josh. I’m so sorry.’ Her hands were so soft, and so was her voice. He felt like he was being touched by an angel.

  He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face against her breastbone, drawing in deep tortured breaths. She held him, fierce and gentle, waiting while his breathing slowed and calmed.

  He rubbed his forehead against her. ‘Why didn’t he try harder? He didn’t try at all. Not even for me and Mum. When he had to leave Mirabook, it was like the light just went out. I hate him for that. I hate him for leaving us.’

  ‘You don’t hate him.’ Her hands were threading through the hair on the back of his head. ‘You love him.’

  ‘I’m so angry with him.’

  ‘I know.’

  He drew back and looked up at her. There were tears running freely down her cheeks. He wasn’t shedding tears, couldn’t for some reason despite the agony inside, but it didn’t matter. She was shedding them for him. And he realised she probably did know. If anyone understood how he felt, if anyone understood all these conflicted feelings he had for his beloved hated dead father, it was her.

  ‘It’s been so long and I’m still so angry with him.’ He drew her in closer, because she could never be close enough, and lay his forehead on her chest again. ‘I don’t know how to get over this.’

  ‘You don’t have to get over it. It’s okay to be mad at him.’

  ‘It’s not okay. He’s my dad.’

  She made a tutting sound with her tongue and teeth. ‘You’re so tough on yourself, Josh. So tough on everyone. We’re just human.’

  Something about her words got to him. Was he being too tough on his father? Did he expect too much? John Farrell was his hero, the best man he’d ever know. Had he not let him also be human? ‘Even my dad.’

  ‘Even your dad.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’m ever going to forgive him.’

  She didn’t answer straight away, just worked her fingers through the hair at his nape. Over and over, smoothing and soothing. ‘You know what I think when I think of my parents? I tell myself that they were doing the best they could. It mightn’t have been much, but it was the best they could do. It helps. Me, anyway.’

  He thought the words through. They were so simple, it was hard to believe they could work. He’d always thought his dad should have tried harder, that if he’d loved them more, he would have tried harder, but maybe Lily was right. Maybe he’d been doing the best he could.

  Releasing him for a moment, she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  God, what had he done? Taken all his issues out on this woman again? His woman. Hands lows on her hips, he reached his head up just enough to touch his lips to hers, caressing so gently she sighed and melted against him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I ruined your ball.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’ Hands on his jaw, she dropped a kiss on his cheekbone. ‘Whatever you’re feeling, I want to share it. It’s mine too. End of story.’

  She loved him. It was there in her words, in her eyes. In each and every single one of her actions since she’d returned. A revelation that didn’t feel like one. Christ, he didn’t deserve it, but she loved him.

  ‘Let me take care of you, Josh.’

  ‘You are,’ he said quietly. Taking care of him like no one had ever taken care of him, and all he could do was count his blessings.

  ‘Let me make love to you.’

  Like he could begin to say no to her.

  She dropped another kiss high on his cheek, then dropped in front of him and removed his shoes and socks with quiet, gentle efficiency. It was strange to him, to sit and let someone else do all the work, but he didn’t help her. To be honest, he felt as weak and unsteady as a newborn foal. She rose, took his hands and pulled him to his feet. He stood silent and still before her, unable to take his eyes off her, as she removed his shirt and his pants, as she put her fingers on the inside of the elastic of his underwear, and ran then down his legs. Then she pushed him back gently against the chaise lounge, and he sprawled, one arm above his head, the other resting on his stomach. Watching.

  She reached behind her and undid her zip, eyes solemn and intense. Easiest thing in the world to do, to lay back and watch Lily undress for him. Naked, she came over him and hands cupping his face, kissed him. She didn’t stop kissing him, even when her mouth left his. She moved over him, slow, expansive, touching all of him, drowning him in liquid sensuality. To the point where he could barely tell where he ended and she began.

  He shivered when she pressed her thumbs into his arm pits, shuddered when she laved down his ribcage. He’d been sleeping with her for weeks, but this slow, serious experience was different. Tonight, she was doing it all, taking care of him, as she said, and it felt something like healing.

  Slow, dreamy love; like syrupy, golden honey. Maybe it’d be too sweet, too languid, if she didn’t balance it up with some harder elements—nips and squeezes and little bites that he felt just enough to sharpen the pleasure in her other caresses.

  She rose above him, his beautiful goddess, eased herself on top of him, and rolled her hips. He watched her, her dark eyes the only thing he could see in the world. She built, like a wave, and on a surge of energy, he gripped her hips and thrust. She called his name, head thrown back, and collapsed on top of him.

  God, this woman was his heart. He caressed the small of her back, tracing out I love you over and over again.

  ***

  Lily lay prostrate against his wide, brown chest. Boneless. Relishing the feeling of Josh’s fingers tracing patterns over her back.

  Her poor tortured Josh. He would be okay, even if he didn’t know it yet.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said eventually, when talk was possible again. ‘You buying me was a really good idea. And we still have nine hours left.’

  She raised herself on her forearms, and looked at the incredibly dear face below her. He looked different already. Relaxed and open in a way he hadn’t been before. Lines she hadn’t even noticed had disappeared.

  She half-smiled down at him. ‘No way, buddy. This isn’t part of my ten hours.’

  ‘Mine, then. I get ten hours too?’

  She felt her smile broaden. ‘You get as long as you want.’ Forever, she hoped. That’s what she wanted.

  He leaned up a little, and kissed her fingers. ‘So what was it you want to do with yours anyway?’

  ‘Fishing maybe.’

  ‘Fishing? You spent ten thousand dollars so we could go fishing?’

  ‘Yep.’ Sure, it sounded ridiculous, but it wasn’t just fishing, was it? She’d bought a day, hoping that time doing things they used to do would finally break down the barriers between them. Remind Josh of the way they used to be.

  He squeezed her buttocks. ‘Jesus, woman, you could have just asked, you know.’

  ‘Oh really? You would have said yes?’

  He didn’t answer for a moment. ‘I would now,’ he said.

  Yes, he would now. She reached down and planted a kiss on his temple. And turned philosophical. ‘What do you think would have happened between us if that afternoon had never happened?’

  A question she’d asked herself many times, but hadn’t been able to ask him before.

  He shrugged. ‘Your parents still would have fought. Your mum still would have hauled your arse back to Sydney. They would have split, and no one would have come here. Maybe it would have all turned out exactly the same.’

  ‘But if it hadn’t happened, we would have stayed in contact. We might have met up again sooner. As soon as we finished school, maybe.’

  ‘It’s a hypothetical, Lil. We’ll never
know.’

  ‘Do you think we’d be together now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Are we together now?’ she pressed. ‘Are we dating?’

  He shook his head in mock disapproval. ‘If you even need to ask, I haven’t done my job right. Lucky I’ve still got nine hours left.’

  Chapter 18

  Lily woke wrapped in a blanket made of Josh. He was warm and solid and he totally enclosed her, one arm under her neck, hand cupping her breast, the other draped around her hips, while his thigh wedged between hers.

  Heaven. Or it would be if that siren from hell stopped blaring.

  And then it hit her—that siren was her phone. Who on earth would call this early the night after the ball? Emergency? Must be.

  The first time she attempted to leave the bed, he tightened his arms around her. Her second attempt was met with a growl. Eventually she managed to extract herself, grab her phone and hustle out of the bedroom where Josh had resumed sleeping like the dead.

  Which, after last night, he totally deserved to do.

  She answered the phone on her way down the stairs.

  ‘Good news, Lily.’

  She knew those plummy tones—she’d heard them every day not that long ago. ‘Hamish?’

  ‘Waiting period is over.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked as she walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the kettle. She needed tea, and pretty soon, Josh was going to want coffee.

  ‘I need you to sign some documents. Can you come in today?’

  ‘Not exactly. I’m at Mirabook.’

  She opened the pantry doors, retrieved the canisters of coffee beans and tea leaves. The kitchen was immaculate, she noted. The girls had done a wonderful job. She’d have to let Maureen know, and maybe put them on her roster once her business was up and running, if they wanted the work. The ball had gone so well, she was doubly-enthused to get started on her own business.

  ‘That old place of your mum’s? God, Lily, that’s appalling. I didn’t realise things were that desperate.’

  She frowned. She attempted to simultaneously hold the phone to her ear with her shoulder, open the tea canister, and quash the righteous indignation which had flared. None of which was really working.

  ‘Don’t worry, after today, you’ll be a rich woman again. You can return to civilisation,’ Hamish chuckled.

  She was thinking how much she disliked that chuckle when his words hit home. Her hands abandoned the canister to the bench, and clutched her phone, as if that might help her understand what he was saying better. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Like I said, waiting period is over.’

  What waiting period? Something was going on here that she wasn’t getting. ‘Hamish, you’re going to have to start at the beginning. What do you mean I’ll be rich again? I thought the courts seized everything.’

  ‘Sure, everything they could find. Keith understood risk management, and so do I. You can’t honestly believe we would’ve left his assets wide open like that.’

  Yes, she had honestly believed every single dollar had been taken. Neither her father nor Hamish had told her any different, so why would she think otherwise? She leant back against the bench, unsure of whether her legs would continue to support her, and noted idly that the kettle had boiled.

  ‘Of course we wouldn’t leave ourselves vulnerable to full-scale robbery by the courts. We had strategies for this exact situation in place right from the start.’

  On auto-pilot, she added boiling water to the tea pot and the coffee plunger.

  ‘We’ve been removing and protecting funds for the last few years,’ Hamish continued. ‘The money’s been working its way through various overseas holdings and entities, and it’s now one hundred per cent unrecognisable. Ready to return to you. Less my fee, of course.’ He laughed as if he’d said something really funny.

  She still couldn’t think of anything to say beyond the obvious. She really had money again?

  ‘We lost the Point Piper house. It was unavoidable. But there’s plenty in the kitty to buy yourself a new one.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is, I have money?’ she gave in and asked.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ He sounded exasperated with her, and it was understandable. The point he was making wasn’t difficult to grasp, it was just such a shock. Talk about a reversal of fortune.

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Well, you could always thank me!’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied automatically, but something was niggling at her. Something didn’t feel right. ‘What about the money that’s owed to all the Orion clients?’

  ‘Lily … Orion was always a high-risk venture. The investors knew that. They lost out, but that was the risk they took, and they should wear it. They can’t blame your father for their losses. It’s like shooting the messenger.’

  That’s what he’d told her the whole time during the court case. That her dad hadn’t done anything wrong. That the investors weren’t being reasonable. That they’d known the risks going in, and that they were now complaining because things hadn’t gone their way. She’d believed Hamish through all those long months, and even now he sounded so sure. But if it was the truth, how come the courts had ruled against them?

  ‘But dad was found guilty of unconscionable conduct. If he was negligent …’

  ‘What’s negligent?’ Hamish interrupted, voice ripe with emotion. ‘It’s not like your father wanted the venture to fail. And there was a little thing called a global financial crisis going on. He worked hard, really hard, trying to make a success of it.’

  Yes, well, her father had worked hard. No arguing with that one.

  ‘So, this money … It’s okay for me to take it?’ She didn’t know quite how to express what she meant, but it didn’t seem right somehow for others to have lost out, and for her to somehow come out the other side flush.

  ‘Yes, I believe it is. Look, Lily, I don’t blame the investors. In their shoes, I would do exactly the same thing. I would seek to recover as much as possible by any means available. It’s human nature to try to get the most out of any given situation. It doesn’t mean Keith did anything wrong.’

  There was no doubting Hamish’s sincerity. He believed what he was saying, one hundred per cent. She just didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘Back to the purpose for this call, Lily. I want to process these documents first thing tomorrow morning. Is it possible for you to drive back to Sydney today? How far from civilisation are you exactly?’

  ‘Only a couple of hours.’ She was going to have to go, she realised. She didn’t care about the money one way or the other, didn’t want anything to do with Hamish or the courts or disappearing and reappearing funds, didn’t want to drive to Sydney, today of all days, but she was going to have to go and get it sorted. ‘Your house or the office?’

  ‘The office.’

  At the office, early on a Sunday morning. Just like her father.

  She ended the call and tapped the phone against her chin as she stared out the windows for a few moments. No more flush of creamy blossom on bare winter branches, now it was all lime-green new growth. It’d changed so much since she’d first arrived. Everything had.

  Hamish might have thought she’d been in purgatory, but she’d been blessed to have come here and find this place and these people. Money or no money, there was no way she was returning to her old life.

  But she would have to go up for the day. The quicker she got up there, signed whatever it was she had to sign, and got back, the better.

  She returned upstairs, coffee in hand. Josh was still crashed out. She put the cup on the bedside table, dressed quickly, and sat down on the bed next to him. She would have sworn he was still asleep, but then he tried to pull her back underneath the covers with him.

  Smiling, struggling to keep herself above the bedding, she leaned in close and nipped him on the ear. ‘Hey, sleepy.’

  He groane
d, and once again attempted to manoeuvre her back underneath him. She resisted, dropped a kiss on his neck, right below his ear. He didn’t open his eyes, but brought his hand up and tapped the spot. A request for more of the same. Which she was only too happy to comply with.

  And then found herself fighting him off once more. ‘I have to drive up to Sydney today,’ she said laughing.

  He half-opened one eye, then closed it again. ‘Today? Why?’

  ‘Hamish called. There’s paperwork. Something I have to sign.’

  ‘Does it have to be today? I kind of had plans for today,’ he said sleepily.

  Yeah, she just bet he did. And he really was half-asleep if the paperwork comment had gone over his head.

  She wished she could stay here. Spend the whole day making love in every way and place he or she could dream up. For someone so calm and methodical, Josh could be pretty darn inventive.

  She stood, moved away from the temptation to crawl right back in beside him. ‘I better go sort it out. Keep those thoughts front and centre. I’ll be back tonight.’ She dropped one final kiss on his lips. ‘Rest up, lover. Dream of me.’

  She got herself to her car and started the engine before she could change her mind.

  Through the gates, past the pine tree, past the turn-off to Josh’s house. Past Harry’s Corner and into Yarrow. Going back to Sydney, reversing the journey she’d made a little over a month ago. A reversal in more ways than one.

  What it would be like to have money again? Weird. It would be weird. She had no desire—like, zero desire—for her life to go back to the way it had been before.

  But money alone wouldn’t do that, would it?

  Some capital to get her business started would be welcome—she could buy all the paint her heart desired. And she could make a big donation to the building fund, if she could get the others to accept it. Maybe being rich again wouldn’t be all bad.

  All she had to do was sign those documents.

  Again with the niggling feeling that something wasn’t right. But Hamish was the expert and he didn’t think her father was at fault. Couldn’t she just take his word for it?

  No, she decided reluctantly, she couldn’t. She had before, but she couldn’t anymore. Her father had created the mess, but it was up to her clean it up. She mightn’t want this money, but at the end of the day, it was hers now, and it fell to her to decide what to do with it.