Unexpected Delivery

by Leanne Lovegrove

  “Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, let’s do it.”

  The rugged country farmer with his tussled black mop and the elegant city journalist stood huddled together for minutes planning. Not that Daniel had to do anything. He just had to open his farm and talk about his work. But, he had a sense Barbara Walsh had a lot to do overnight to get her crew in Rosebrooke. He didn’t understand the rush for her but for him, it meant life or death.

  As he left Daniel watched Barbara huddled over her mobile phone and taking notes. Might be a long night for her.

  ***

  Vivienne pulled up the blanket to hide her trembling.

  “Want another cup of tea?”

  Shaking her head, Vivienne pulled her legs up under her. She should be looking after her sister. What Bec and the children had seen tonight had been awful.

  “I’m so sorry, Bec. What a scene for the children to witness.”

  “I must say, it became an exciting trivia night, didn’t it? I guess there are no winners now. Lucky most of the money had already been collected. But, honestly, the kids will be fine. They see worse on T.V. these days. Might be a few sore heads about town tomorrow. I worry for you, though. Are you okay staying here? I’ve seen firsthand now the ramifications of, you know.” Bec looked around and patted Vivienne on the knee as their eyes connected and spoke a conversation of unsaid words. With all the emotions swirling in Vivienne, it bought a tear to the surface. She’d never be alone whilst she had her sister.

  “I’ll be off to bed then. We can talk more tomorrow?”

  Bec spoke to her but considered Daniel, sitting with a steaming mug in his hand in the opposite sofa chair.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Off to bed with you. Are you heading back first thing tomorrow?”

  “Yep, after breakfast. I’m keen to see Todd.”

  Love. Yes, if she had a husband like Todd, she’d want to be with him always, too.

  Bec placed a hand to Daniel’s shoulder. She’d always been touchy feely.

  “Good night, Daniel, I wish we could have met in different circumstances.”

  “Yes, lovely to meet you, Bec. Thank you for looking after Vivienne.”

  “No, it’s me that should be thanking you. But, I know our Viv can look after herself. But I appreciate your help, it was great to have you there. Best of luck with your dairy. I hope it works out, I’d love to bring the kids to visit.”

  Nods were exchanged; Vivienne offered a small wave of good night as Bec wandered down the narrow hallway to the spare room.

  Daniel shifted in his seat now that they were alone.

  After a pause, he said, “I am so sorry, Vivienne. I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you the other day. I was angry and shocked and disappointed but none of that makes it okay to do what I did, and I’m sorry.”

  “Is that why you came?” Vivienne asked. “To say sorry?”

  “Yes. After I left the town hall, I knew I had to come. I’m just sorry it took me so long to do it.”

  “Thank you. It means a lot that you have apologised. I know you were, are, angry and I would be too. And maybe, after tonight, everything will be all right.”

  “Maybe,” Daniel said.

  They sipped their tea, not looking at each other. It was still too hard to talk about.

  Ned had made a brief appearance at the old cottage, too. He’d enjoyed a few beers and had last been seen in the arms of a teacher from the local school. The attractive brunette had soaked up Ned’s every word as they’d waved them goodbye with a cheery farewell. Both Daniel and Vivienne had giggled when they’d heard him singing at full volume, halfway down the street and a good five minutes after he’d left. Ruby Wallace was in for a fun experience.

  “Have you ever seen the show This Country on the ABC?” Daniel asked, breaking the silence.

  “Um, yes. Monday nights, right?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I’ve never seen it. Is it a good show?”

  “Yeah, I think so. They cover some important and interesting topics and the journalism appears unbiased, not like those sensationalist ones on a Sunday night.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “A journalist approached me tonight at the trivia. She suggested doing an episode on the farm and robotic milking.”

  “Wow, that’d be great.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Well, my neighbour is looking after the kids, so I’d best be off.”

  Vivienne nodded, sad at the prospect of losing his company. Daniel had filled her dreams night after night and her mind most days, and here he sat. It had been too quick.

  “Is your car at the hall?”

  “Yeah, I’ll walk down and get it.”

  Vivienne pulled across the curtain covering the window. “It’s dark. Do you want a lift?”

  He smiled causing his whole face to open up. Her heart soared. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it, particularly when it was just for her.

  “I can walk, my legs aren’t injured.”

  “Um, no, I wasn’t suggesting, it’s just that it’s dark and oh, you know, it’s dark . . .”

  He released a low, deep chuckle that made her tingle all over.

  “Yep and I’m from around here and have walked these streets my entire life. I think it’s okay, and I’m a big boy.”

  “Yes, you are a big boy.” Heat immediately hit her neck. She’d only meant to agree, not talk in a suggestive way. Sometimes she longed to gulp her words right back in.

  Daniel’s grin disappeared and the horror of her words caused the heat in her neck to rise, flushing her cheeks. She pushed the blanket aside and rose. It was a cover to ensure he didn’t see her discomfort, but he rose, too, taking it as his farewell.

  “Yep, right, I’ll be off then.”

  The crisp air of the spring night rushed in as the door opened. It cooled Vivienne’s cheeks.

  With them both standing at the door, Vivienne felt like a teenager again on a first date, expectant, nervous and uncomfortable, wanting more, but sabotaging herself against the possibility.

  “Thanks so much again, for tonight, I sure was a blast at those quiz questions but now we’ll never know...”

  Her words stopped in her mouth as he moved toward her and large, moist lips covered hers.

  Gasping with shock at first, she took less than a minute to fall under his spell.

  His hand landed at her waist. It was a gentle, warm touch that reassured her and made her safe. The first small snatched kiss turned deeper quickly as their lips connected and got to know one another. His firm mouth pressed against her lips. She answered his pressure and lifted her hand to the back of his neck forced them closer still. It was all the permission he needed as he stepped forward and touched her, his leg cushioned between hers; his groin told her he was enjoying himself.

  Stopping to gulp down air, neither spoke. Vivienne clung to him, her other arm around his back. She cuddled his taut stomach and didn’t move with her head nuzzled into his broad shoulder. She didn’t meet his gaze.

  Daniel didn’t move either and held her, meeting her need.

  Vivienne’s insides were on fire, wanting to be torched, allowed to blaze. She couldn’t let it end yet. She’d waited so long for his touch, this kiss and she didn’t want to stop. She moved in again and he met her halfway with kisses as light as feathers. Daniel caressed her cheek with his thumb, the rough skin ridiculously tantalising. His touch on her neck made her throat scorch the flame until she couldn’t hold back.

  Squeezing him so tightly he mustn’t have been able to breathe, she clung to him as if he provided her with life, with the oxygen she needed to breathe. She demanded his kisses. Their tongues skipped in and out, desiring the taste of each other. She tasted beer mixed with tea, the flavour raw and real and macho. His hold on her so firmly, so strong, she never wanted to be free again.

  Dizzy with the intensity, Daniel stopped again, panting. He took a step back seemingly to regain composure. Shocked by th
e intensity of the kiss, Vivienne breathed in deeply as her fingers rose to touch her raw, swollen lips, alive and tingling. She could hardly believe what they’d just done.

  Daniel’s face formed a picture of emotion. He released her and his large hands hung to his sides. His brow creased, his eyes squinted. They kissed one last time, a snatched peck compared to those they had just exchanged. Perhaps he was overcome, too?

  Then without looking at her, he slipped away into the black of the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  Juicy wet kisses landed high on Vivienne’s cheek and trailed down to her collarbone.

  She placed her hand to the moist cheek, her lips upturned in a smile, waiting for Daniel to kiss her again. Her fingers ran down her neck in anticipation of his touch, her senses alive and ready. She felt his rough and dry lips, the bristle of his short beard and the short rush of his feathery breaths. Wanting it, she wriggled, impatient.

  Instead, chilly tendrils sticky with a goo-like substance tickled her jaw-line. Vivienne roused quickly from her deep, vivid dream. Opening one eye, her vision blurred with the image of a pink frilly collar and floating white elephants. A short arm held a piece of half-eaten toast, the offending honey about to drip on her duvet. Disappointment sat heavy in her chest, but Vivienne shot out her hand to upright the toast whilst Gigi fiddled with a toy car in her other hand.

  “Morning, Aunty V!”

  Kids, you had to love them.

  Craving the luxury of dreaming about and reliving the kiss from last night, Vivienne instead had her attention diverted to the three-year-old. Nearby, she heard the rumbling of Saturday morning cartoons and smelled the distant waft of coffee.

  “Mmm, that smells good, Gi. Is Mummy making coffee?”

  “I don’t know, Aunty V, she made me toast. I wanted honey, but Tom wanted vegemite but we couldn’t find any. You don’t have much in your kitchen, do you?”

  “Mmmm, no, I guess not. But you’ve got your toast, so that’s good, yes?”

  Giselle giggled and placed the large bite of the soggy bread in her mouth and chewed.

  The smell of coffee mixed in with eggs and drew closer, teasing her nostrils and making her mouth water. Opening both eyes now and as if she did dream, a tray appeared before her with eggs, avocado, grain toast and steaming hot coffee. Even a pretty flower from the garden bloomed from a vase.

  Avocado.

  That green fruit evoked other memories of last night and Vivienne shivered.

  “I picked the flower, Aunty V. It’s my favourite colour, pink, see,” Gigi said as she pulled the bud to her nose and inhaled before thrusting it in Vivienne’s face.

  “It smells beautiful. I can’t believe you’ve done this, Bec. Don’t you have enough to do?” Vivienne scolded her sister, but revelled in the act of kindness.

  “Yes, I do, but yesterday was a bit ick, so I thought it would be nice for you to be spoiled, especially when there isn’t anyone else around to do it. And, we are going to love you and leave you so you can enjoy this feast and lie in bed and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

  Bec kissed her forehead like a loving mother. Often in their relationship, Bec acted as the older sibling.

  Before she could eat the delicious spread before her, Vivienne gave and received numerous kisses from her niece and nephews though the boys were less willing to be pulled into tight embraces. Luckily, Gigi gave her all she wanted.

  After their departure, the little cottage rang too quiet. Vivienne pulled the corner of the newspaper closer, satisfied with the notion of lying in bed reading it from front to back cover, thin as the local rag was. Frost cornered the panes of window glass, reminding her of the chill to be had outdoors. Best to remain inside.

  Bored with the spreadsheet by the third page, Vivienne reached for the paperback on the nightstand. Its cover had folded in on itself, sitting neglected; she wasn’t being kind to Richard Branson. Having started his autobiography, Losing my Virginity, several weeks ago, she hadn’t given it justice, catching snippets here and there. Perhaps now would be the perfect time to give him credit and be inspired. Vivienne flicked it open at the dog-eared page and picked up where she left off.

  A chapter in, she dropped the book onto the bed, thinking of Ginger. If she’d been at home in her apartment, Ginger would be curled up with her, snuggling and purring. She missed that crazy cat.

  Reading about Richard Branson reminded her of work, or was it the case that she couldn’t concentrate on anything?

  What did Daniel do now? Early morning, he’d be doing farm work, she guessed. Weren’t all farmers early risers? Was he milking? Delivering another cow? Part of her didn’t wish to dwell on him, what good would that do her? But, she wanted to wallow in the afterglow and relive every second of that kiss. It had been ages since she’d been kissed like that.

  Bam! It had been so good. Reminiscing made her all gooey inside, like a teenager the day after the night before. She felt his arms around her, large, capable and safe. His desire had been obvious. He’d wanted to kiss her, wanted more per chance? Just the thought of it made her tingle all over. Usually so pragmatic, her imagination ran away with her today. One place she wouldn’t let her mind wander was the future. Who knew what it held? But she could recall all the delicious events of last night without thinking of tomorrow. Live in the present the experts to happiness say.

  Maybe she could pick up a sweeping love story or family saga from the local bookstore down town. The idea made her think of her mother. Henrietta had loved those ridiculous Barbara Cartland novels with their pink covers and dashing heroes and guileless heroines.

  Vivienne had hated those books as a kid. As an adult, she understood why her mother devoured them. Those stories gave her glimpses of different lives, of perfect love. Yes, images to transport her to another time and place. And, that was what Vivienne wanted right now. Those books were perfect for weekend reading in the country. Maybe not a Barbara Cartland, but a similar novel would be ideal. She mentally added it to her to-do list.

  Sighing, she gave up and dragged herself from the warmth of the covers and traipsed to the study to collect her laptop. On return she flicked the switch on the coffee machine for brew number two, determined that if she checked her work emails on Saturday, she’d do so with coffee and from the added comfort of bed.

  Firing up the computer had never filled her with dread before. She controlled her workflow tightly and always knew what to expect. Since her arrival in Rosebrooke, unexpected events continued to arise, filling her with a sense of constant trepidation. What would come next? Making herself comfortable and having another sip of coffee to fortify her, she read her emails. There was the usual office banter: drinks after work on Friday, lotto money due and lunch for someone’s birthday. Vivienne went through and methodically deleted them.

  Numerous emails from the Women’s Legal Advisory Service popped up—questions for assistance with upcoming charity events or referrals for pro-bono work. Reading through those with care, she responded to requests for donations of unwanted work attire—a good excuse to clean out her wardrobe and give those skirts she never wore to someone who would—and purchased a ticket to attend their next drinks night. All money raised would go to the local domestic violence shelter.

  While it pained her to face women who’d been abused or were running from violent situations, Vivienne kept going back, helping and giving assistance where she could. Just once a month she volunteered on a legal advice night and then supported the group in any other way possible. Government funding was always being sliced and new and innovative ways of raising funds to fight domestic violence was necessary.

  She helped where she could and all the while, her mother’s memory held strong in her thoughts. If only her mother had sought help from an organization like this. She might have been able to escape the clutches of her father and live a happy life, the two of them together.

  What did she just lecture herself about? Living in the present! Squashing those distressing me
mories away, she’d concentrate on helping these women now and affording them a better life. Fiddling with her phone, she entered the date of the drinks event so she wouldn’t forget. She wondered where she would be on that night–Rosebrooke or Brisbane?

  As she flicked through the remainder of work emails, one name jumped out.

  McBride.

  Her tummy knotted with guilt. Did the bank know that she hadn’t yet visited the last defaulter?

  She’d placed this job on the bottom of her list of priorities given the previous receptions she’d received. But, it wasn’t just that, she’d needed to prepare for the further wrath. Anger had become inevitable in these confrontations and she needed all her might and tough alligator skin to face it head on. Would she now be rebuked for her delay?

  Nervous tingles swam through her as she read the lines.

  We advise that Mr and Mrs McBride of 10 Warburton Place, Rosebrooke have paid the arrears on their house mortgage number 4567233 and including all necessary payments to place them back into an ordinary payment regime from this date going forward.

  Vivienne fist pumped the air, relief flooding her as she skimmed the remainder of the content. No need for her to issue the default notice!

  Woohoo, she wanted to shout.

  She’d now dealt with all four defaulters required in Rosebrooke and crossed fingers for no further non-payments within the next couple of weeks and she could avoid alienating herself in this tight-knit community.

  God! How selfish she’d become with these callous acts she’d had to carry out. She celebrated but gave little thought to the McBrides and the enormous reprieve they must be experiencing. Their livelihoods and business were now saved and their future secure. Despite not meeting them, or even picking up their file to learn their story, she imagined their happiness.