In Bed with Her Ex

by Lucy Gordon

  Laughter. Murmurs of agreement, of affection, of wistfulness from the congregation.

  Old hymns. Favourites he remembered from when Mardie’s mum had bossed them into church.

  They felt like something he missed. Like part of him, cut off.

  And then a blaze of bagpipes, the ancient tune, “Dawning of that Day,” signalling the end of the service.

  The crowd parted so the pall-bearers could carry their burden out.

  But they didn’t just part.

  They formed a guard of honour, all the way from the church door to the graveyard at the foot of the hill where he stood.

  A man or woman or child was suddenly standing every step of the way, on either side of the path where the coffin was carried. And beside each man, woman and child …

  A dog. Not just a dog, but a trained dog. Mostly working dogs—collies, kelpies, blue heelers, but the occasional poodle, spaniel, mutt.

  Every dog was sitting hard on his owner’s heels, rigidly to attention, eyes straight in front as the coffin passed, a last and loving respect to the man who’d spent his life training them. Who’d passed on his skills from dog to dog, from generation to generation.

  Mardie was walking behind the coffin. Bessie was beside her, not on a lead, heeling beautifully, steady, sure.

  Behind Mardie, others—friends, relatives, more dogs. Liz was pushing Etta’s chair. Bounce was heeling by the wheelchair as if he realised the significance of this day.

  A community, mourning its own.

  He thought suddenly of Mardie’s plates. Her skill in creating things of wonder, the pilot’s wife’s awe and gratitude.

  He thought of Etta, Mardie’s mother, her crazy cooking, the way she’d welcomed a stray little boy into her home.

  He looked at Liz, who ran one of the best nursing homes he’d ever been in.

  Of Raff, the local cop, who cared for this community with firmness and with love.

  Love …

  He thought of the children he’d treated in Africa. All those lives, altered because of what he’d done.

  He thought of what he could do …

  He could go back to California. Make Eyes For Africa bigger.

  Others could do that. Others would do that. He could keep an overseeing role.

  He could stay here and make Mardie happy.

  She was already happy. She didn’t need him.

  He should …

  No. Enough of should.

  The procession had reached the graveyard now. Mardie was standing by the open grave, Bessie by her side. She looked … alone.

  Enough.

  He walked down the hillside to join her.

  Not because he should. Not because it’d save the world.

  He walked down to join Mardie because it was what he most wanted to do in the world.

  If he could make Mardie love him … If he could be part of this community … the world would be his.

  She’d been aware of him for a while, high on the hill, just watching.

  He was too far away for her to be sure, but she knew. A sixth sense …

  Or the fact that he was part of her and she knew her own heart.

  The vicar was about to speak as he arrived, but the crowd parted to let him through and the vicar hesitated, giving Blake time to be where he needed to be.

  By Mardie’s side.

  Holding Mardie’s hand.

  The vicar smiled a question—okay to go on?—and he nodded.

  It was as if he had the right to be here. As if he had the right to be part of the ceremony for this old dog-trainer, a man who was loved by so many.

  Charlie belonged.

  As Blake finally belonged.

  Mardie’s hand tightened on his and he knew it for truth.

  It took the rest of the day before he found some time alone with her. The wake was enormous, the pub crowded, and the day turned into an impromptu dog trial.

  The football oval was taken over, hurdles, pegs, pens set up. Charlie’s dogs versus Charlie’s dogs.

  Someone thought of a barbecue; parts of the crowd dispersed, came back with supplies. Day turned to dusk turned to dark. The stories of Charlie were legion.

  Mardie moved through the crowd with Bessie. It was as if Bessie was part of who Charlie was; it was important that she stayed.

  But finally only the diehards were left—old men who’d sit and remember their friend over a beer or six, Charlie’s mates.

  Mardie was free to leave.

  Blake drove her home in her truck. His car was still up on the hill and it was likely to stay there.

  There was a thumping sound in the engine. Ominous. He might need to do something about that.

  He would. He’d put it on his list. His list for after he’d asked what he needed to ask.

  Once again, there was silence in the truck, but it was different. Peace. Acceptance.

  The beginning of joy?

  He pulled up in the yard. They climbed out, the dogs jumping wearily down after them and heading straight inside, to their basket by the fire. Side by side again.

  Joined at the heart.

  Like him and this woman by his side.

  Mardie let them in and then turned. Blake was right behind her. Close.

  Watching her in the moonlight.

  ‘I’m glad you came back,’ she said simply.

  ‘I should never have left.’

  ‘You had to leave,’ she said softly. ‘You know, if you’d told me about Robbie, I would have understood. I understand now how important it was to you. How important it is.’

  ‘It was a process,’ he said simply. ‘Something I had to work through. Something that started when I was seven, went full circle, then came back to you.’

  She stilled, except her heart hadn’t stilled. Her heart was hammering as if it might explode.

  ‘You’ve come back?’

  ‘I love you, Mardie,’ he said simple and true. ‘Like you … I’ve loved you all the time without stopping. Things got in the way. I couldn’t get perspective. But now …’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘The funeral today,’ he said. ‘Hundreds of dogs, a funeral procession for one old man. A pilot’s wife weeping over a plate. Raff, looking after his community. Harry and Riley at North Coast Rescue. You’re all doing what you do, what you love to do, what makes you happy. But you don’t destroy yourself in the process.’

  ‘Is that what you’ve been doing?’

  ‘No,’ he said sharply. ‘I left here when I was seventeen, and yes, I felt like a martyr then. Heading off to make up for my brother’s life. But it changed. It became a passion, a love all on its own. It was only when I couldn’t do it any more that shock and illness and a lack of perspective made me go back to the martyr bit.’ He reached out and took her hands. ‘It took one dog. One dog and one beautiful woman. It took my best friend, Mardie Rainey, to set me right.’

  ‘So …’ She was scarcely able to breathe. ‘So you’re set right now?’

  ‘I have a plan.’

  ‘A plan …’

  ‘It’s in its infancy,’ he said. ‘A bud of a plan. It needs work. It needs an artist to tweak the edges. But you want to hear?’

  How could he doubt it? Her face must have answered for her.

  ‘I teach online,’ he said simply. ‘I’d like to expand that. Medics in remote areas … I’m learning to use Skype so I can talk doctors through procedures. Video links. There’s so much. If I stay in the one place, I can be connected all over the world.’

  ‘You’d … be happy with that?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not completely. So I will accept Riley and Harry’s job offer. Three days a week they do their Outback clinics and they’ll fly via here. I can work with them. I can still make a difference. I might,’ he added diffidently, ‘need to go overseas a couple of times a year, to conferences, to teaching clinics and to keep in touch with the foundation. I can still do fund-raising. And … if you wanted to … you could come with me.’
r />   ‘Come with you?’

  ‘Not to be taken up with my life,’ he said. ‘Not to follow my passion. But to follow your own. There’d be things you could do, techniques you could learn. We could learn together. We could …’

  He paused. Thought about it.

  Dropped to one knee.

  ‘We could marry,’ he said.

  ‘Blake …’ The whole world held its breath.

  ‘I offered you diamonds,’ he said simply. ‘In Sydney. It was a stupid, crass thought, nothing more. And you know what? Tonight I don’t even have a diamond. I’ve come unprepared. All I have to offer …’ He shrugged. ‘No. I don’t have anything to offer, Mardie, but I do love you. All I have to offer is my love. I want to share your life. I want to be a part of your life. I love you, I want you, and I want to come home.’

  And Mardie stared down at him and felt so much love that she must surely be dreaming.

  He was waiting for her to answer. A girl had to think of something.

  ‘So no diamond, huh?’ she said cautiously.

  ‘I … No. I can get one, but …’

  ‘And an ancient rust bucket of a car that’s still stuck on the hill overlooking Banksia Bay cemetery.’

  ‘I guess …’ He sounded confused.

  ‘And the mere possibility—not even confirmed—of a part-time job. Part-time? Haven’t you heard the saying? For better or worse but not for lunch.’

  ‘I could … I don’t know … take a packed lunch down the paddock every lunchtime. Bounce and I have some learning to do. That could be Bessie’s teaching time.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t be underfoot?’

  ‘Not very much.’

  ‘But you want to stay here?’

  ‘Wherever you are,’ he said simply. ‘That’s where I want to be, for the rest of my life.’ Deep breath. ‘Mardie, love, I don’t want to hurry you, but this veranda’s hard.’

  ‘Is it?’ She dropped on her knees before him. ‘Oh, yes, so it is. You think we should put some padding on it?’

  She sounded hysterical, she thought. She felt hysterical.

  He took her hands in his. Hysteria faded.

  ‘No padding,’ he said. ‘Just a fast answer. Yes or no. Mardie Rainey, I love you with all my heart. I want to be part of your life and I want you to be part of my life, for ever and ever. So there’s no ring. I’ll buy you one in the future but for now it’s just me. Just me, Mardie, nothing else. No shadows. No regrets. Just us. Mardie Rainey, my love, my heart, will you be my wife?’

  And she looked into his dear face, the face she’d grown with, the face she’d loved once and loved for ever.

  Her Blake.

  Her past and her future.

  Her best friend.

  Hysteria was gone. Doubts were gone—there was nothing but Blake.

  ‘Why, yes, Blake Maddock,’ she whispered, ‘I believe I will.’

  ‘He’s home, too,’ Blake said with deep satisfaction.

  A simple ceremony on a driveway into a Banksia Bay farm. A driveway lined with ancient gum trees. A man and a woman, husband and wife, with their two dogs pressed together beside them.

  The Banksia Bay vicar presiding.

  Robbie’s ashes had lain in a memorial wall for twenty-five years. Blake had hated them there, so now they’d brought him home, to a place where an ancient gum had once stood, a tree with linked initials, split in the storm.

  Robbie’s ashes were now scattered in the sunlight, on the earth around a sapling already reaching for the sky.

  ‘No carving,’ Blake said sternly to Mardie.

  ‘Not me,’ she said virtuously. ‘But our children might not be into rules.’

  The vicar frowned them down. This was a serious business. He read the blessing and then he smiled.

  ‘This is a good thing to do,’ he decreed as he gazed out over the farmland to the sea beyond. He’d heard the simple story and he approved. Now he motioned to the bump Mardie was proudly carrying under her smock. ‘The bairn … if it’s a boy, will you name him Robbie?’

  ‘She’s a girl,’ Blake said, hugging his wife close. ‘Already confirmed and her name’s Oriane. It means dawn.’

  ‘Lovely,’ the vicar said, beaming. ‘For I don’t believe in looking back more than we need. Love continues. As for the rest … The past can get in the way of the future.’

  Then he glanced at his watch. ‘Speaking of the future, I must go.’

  ‘So must we,’ Blake said, smiling and clicking his fingers for the two dogs to join them. ‘We have dog trials this afternoon. Today, my wife thinks her dog, Bounce, will beat my dog, Bessie, at the Whale Cove Sheepdog Trials. She’s dreaming.’

  ‘He’ll do it,’ Mardie said. ‘If not this month, then next.’

  ‘Only because Bessie needs to retire next month. We’re having pups,’ he told the vicar. ‘Babies all over the place. But, pregnant or not, she’ll still beat any dog, hands down. Our Bessie’s brilliant.’

  ‘We’re all brilliant,’ Mardie said. Smiling and smiling. ‘Together we can do anything.’ She hugged her husband and he hugged her back.

  ‘We can do anything we want,’ she said simply. ‘Together we’re home.’

  The Boy is Back in Town

  Nina Harrington

  NINA HARRINGTON grew up in rural Northumberland and decided at the age of eleven that she was going to be a librarian—because then she could read all of the books in the public library whenever she wanted! Since then she has been a shop assistant, community pharmacist, technical writer, university lecturer, volcano walker and industrial scientist, before taking a career break to realise her dream of being a fiction writer. When she is not creating stories which make her readers smile, her hobbies are cooking, eating, enjoying good wine—and talking, for which she has had specialist training.

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARIGOLD CHANCE scrolled through the images on her digital camera with her thumb, and cringed. Of all the crimes against photography she had ever committed for her sister Rosa, of which there had been many, the past few hours had been a low point.

  Mari might be forgiven for the portrait of the dry cleaner’s miniature dachshund in a cute beaded princess sweater, or even the popcorn-puff hooded jacket Rosa had made for the hairdresser’s Pekinese. But persuading the newsagent’s fox terrier to pose with a knitted plaid waterproof raincoat with the name ‘Lola’ in gold chain stitch on the back was the last straw.

  Her sister Rosa had a lot to answer for.

  ‘Oh, you are such a genius.’ Rosa grabbed the sleeve of Mari’s coat and squealed so loudly that two elderly ladies in the street looked across in alarm. Mari gave them a smile and a small wave with the hand that was not firmly in the fierce grip of her sister, the budding internet entrepreneur, who was wrestling to see the back of the camera.

  ‘Lola looks amazing. You see? I knew it would be useful to have an IT expert in the family one day. You told me how important it was to have great visuals on the website you made for me and now I have. It was hard work but so worth it.’

  Mari snorted in reply and lifted the camera out of her sister’s reach. ‘You spent most of the time lying on the floor playing with the puppy and feeding her treats. I was the one doing the hard work.’

  Rosa waggled her fingers at her dismissively. ‘What can I say? Some of us are blessed with the creative touch. Animal models are hard to find in the world of Swanhaven pet fashion and Lola wasn’t too keen on posing for more than a few seconds. I think bribery is acceptable in the circumstances. After all, it’s not often my big sister has a chance to be a fashion photographer for the day. The least I could do was sacrifice my dignity in the name of your future career. You might need that extra line on your résumé one day soon.’

  Mari sighed and gave her head a quick shake. ‘I should never have told you that my department is laying off technical staff. I’m fine. Seriously. There are lots of hardware engineers who want to take the package and do other things with their lives, but not me.
I love what I’m doing and don’t plan to change any time soon.’

  ‘Um … fine. Right. Is that why you were looking for IT jobs around Swanhaven on the internet this morning?’

  ‘Hey!’ Mari play poked Rosa in the arm. ‘Were you spying on me, young lady? I can see behind that sweet innocent face, you know.’ Mari paused for a moment and decided to give Rosa a half version of the truth. ‘I wanted to compare the freelance rates in Dorset compared to California, that’s all,’ she replied with a smile and shrug. ‘Things have certainly changed a lot in the years since I last lived here. Apparently there’s Wi-Fi in the yacht club. Could this really be possible?’

  And the moment the words had left her mouth, Mari instantly felt guilty about not telling her only sister the full truth. But she couldn’t reveal her secret just yet, no matter how much she was looking forward to seeing the look on Rosa’s face when she broke the news that she was buying back their childhood home. Rosa had been inconsolable when their little family of women had been evicted from the home where they’d once been so happy, and Mari knew how much she’d wanted to live there again.

  But she couldn’t even hint that the house could be theirs until she was certain that everything was in place.

  Rosa was sensitive enough to pick up that Mari was worried about her job security and with good reason. Mari Chance had been the provider in this family since the age of sixteen, when their father had left and their mother floundered in grief and despair.

  It had been Mari’s decision to sacrifice her dreams of university so that she could leave school as soon as she could to work for a local business and become the breadwinner for Rosa and their mother. And she felt even more responsible now that Rosa was on her own and she had a high-flying job with a salary to make sure that Rosa was taken care of. Even if it did mean that they were apart—her sister had to come first before anything that Mari wanted in her own life.

  Rosa was the only person in Mari’s life who she truly trusted but this was one time when she wasn’t ready to open up and share her fears and dreams for the future. She had worked too hard to give Rosa hope, only to see it replaced with bitter disappointment.