by Maggie Brown
“Lindsey,” she said quietly, “I think there’s someone here who knows you…or thinks she does. She’s been staring at us.”
“Unless it’s someone from work, which is highly unlikely, it wouldn’t be me. It’ll be you.”
“I haven’t a clue who she is. Besides, if she knew me she would have acknowledged me.”
“Where is she?” asked Lindsey, now showing interest.
“At a table against the back wall with five other women. You’ll have to turn to the left to see her.”
“Tell me what she looks like so I’ll know who I’m looking for.”
“She’s wearing a sleeveless light blue dress and, at a guess, I’d say she’s in her early- to mid-thirties though it’s a bit hard to tell from here. She’s very attractive…wavy golden-blond hair and a heart-shaped face.”
“Tall or short?”
“She’s sitting down, but I’d say not too tall.”
After she turned slowly to look, Lindsey expelled a hiss.
“Do you know her?” asked Daisy, but she knew it was a rhetorical question. Lindsey’s face had drained of colour, her knuckles white clutching the cup. She was intently focused on the woman who had risen from her chair to walk over. Trembling visibly, Lindsey placed the cup on the table before she slowly rose to greet her.
Daisy waited silently for the scene to play out. The stranger was much the same height as herself, dressed in a stylish frock that hugged her slim body in all the right places. Daisy felt a spurt of envy—she was downright gorgeous.
“Hi, Lin,” she said in a low quavering voice.
The muscles in Lindsey’s face tensed. “Hello, Kirsty,” she whispered back.
“Oh, come here and give me a hug,” the woman exclaimed. And they were in each other’s arms, rocking gently as they clasped each other tightly.
Lindsey was the first to break the connection. Taking a step back, she reached up to touch her hair. “You look wonderful. I’ve missed you so much.”
Kirsty let out a small sob. “I missed you too. You look so good.”
“You do too. You’re even prettier now. Come…sit down.”
“I’m with friends for a birthday celebration, so I only can stay for a minute. Will you come to lunch tomorrow?”
“I’d love to. Jot down your details.” Lindsey tugged Daisy to her feet. “This is a friend of mine, Daisy Parker. Meet a dear childhood friend, Kirsty…” she glanced down at the left hand where a huge diamond ring glittered on her finger. “What is your married name?”
“Hickman. I married Martin, Lin.”
Daisy watched the emotions play over Lindsey’s face as she absorbed the information. She looked first surprised then intrigued. “Did you really? I didn’t even know you liked him.”
“I always thought he was nice when he was taking you out. Truth be known, I envied you. Then after your accident, we comforted each other when your mother was being such a bitch. Four years later, we met again in London and started dating.” She dropped her eyes to the table. “You must think I’m the shittiest friend.”
“You envied me?” said Lindsey incredulously.
“Well, just a bit,” said Kirsty with a little toss of her head. “You were always so complete: articulate, rich, and clever. You never had to worry about failing subjects like me. And you had Martin. But then my family weren’t exactly in your parents’ class.”
She turned to Daisy who was watching the exchange, fascinated. “It’s nice to meet you, Daisy. Have you a pen?” Kirsty wrote down her address and number, and placed the slip of paper on the table. “Now I must get back. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lin.”
Lindsey watched her make her way across the room before she sank down onto her chair. She raised the coffee cup to her lips, her fingers tense on the handle. Gradually they relaxed, one by one. She met Daisy’s gaze, her voice breathless as she said, “That was a surprise.”
“She’s quite lovely,” said Daisy.
“Yes, she is. She was my best friend.”
“What happened, Lindsey?”
“My mother wouldn’t let her see me after the accident.” Her voice hitched. “I guess she gave up trying.”
“I wonder why she didn’t try to contact you at some stage later. Do you think it was because she married your boyfriend?”
“No. She knew I wasn’t keen on him.”
Daisy swallowed then asked the question that had been puzzling her since viewing their reunion, “Why haven’t you tried to contact her? You were obviously very close.”
Lindsey went still. “Probably the same reason she didn’t want to see me. Amy.”
“Oh?”
“That’s all I’m going to say. I didn’t realize just how much I’ve missed her until I saw her walking toward me. We’ll sort things out tomorrow. I want her back in my life.”
“I’m happy for you, Lindsey. Now if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the start of the movie.”
“Let’s go. And since this is our last date, we’ll make a night of it. I’ve lined up a surprise for you.”
* * *
“I’ll walk home, Joe. It’s a pleasant night for a stroll,” Lindsey called over the seat as the car eased to a stop outside the cottage.
“Very well, Lindsey,” he replied. After opening their doors, he slid back into the driver’s seat.
“Thanks, Joe,” Daisy called out and watched the car disappear into the darkness before she walked to the front door. After she fitted the key in the lock, she said with a warm smile, “I had a really fun date. And thank you once again for the joyride in the company helicopter, Lindsey. It was awesome.”
“I’m glad I could give you something you’d never done before.”
“Coming in for coffee?”
“No thanks. It’s after ten and I’m a little tired.”
“Oh,” murmured Daisy, taken aback. She had hoped they wouldn’t end the date yet. Tomorrow she was going back to her own apartment in town. She looked around wistfully. She was going to miss all this.
As she leaned forward to open the door, she was suddenly conscious how close they were standing. Near enough to inhale the spicy perfume.
Then Lindsey did the unexpected. She bent until their eyes and mouths were level and leaned in slowly, an inch, then another, until their mouths touched. Her lips tasted of the chocolates and the brandy nightcap they’d had in the car on the way home. The kiss was soft and fleeting like sisters saying goodbye, but to Daisy the effect wasn’t sisterly. Her every nerve ending sparked. She sidled closer, itching to roam her fingers through Lindsey’s silky hair and tug the head closer to devour the mouth. With a concerted effort, she managed to keep her hands to her side.
She was so glad she did, for Lindsey stepped back and said lightly, “How was that? Before you went, I wanted to practise initiating a kiss. I hope I didn’t take too much of a liberty.”
Daisy’s whole body sagged in relief. Fuck, she’d nearly made a complete fool of herself. “You’re a natural. No more practice required in that department,” she replied with a burst of enthusiasm she didn’t feel. Then reluctant to end the connection, she hovered on the doorstep. “I guess this is goodbye. I’ll be gone by the time you get back from Kirsty’s tomorrow. I’ll ring you during the week.”
Lindsey suddenly looked sombre. “Thank you for being here for me, Daisy. Perhaps we can get together again next week. I’m going to miss our outings.”
“Me too.”
“What happens next with the dating business?”
“Mac said the article will be published in about two weeks. You might like to have that drink with Nicolle then, or lunch, whatever. I’ll organize a night out at the Beauvoir Club on Saturday night in three weeks. It’s an exclusive women’s club with some lesbian and bi members.”
“Are you a member?” asked Lindsey.
“God no. Out of my league!”
Lindsey’s eyes ran over her like a radar scanner. “Then how can you get me in. They wouldn’t just let an
yone through the door.”
There was a tiny beat of silence. “I know a member,” replied Daisy innocently.
“I’m not surprised. I’ve never come across anyone who knows so many people.” Lindsey scuffed the toe of her shoe on the wooden boards. “So…I guess I’d better be off.”
Daisy stepped forward before she had a chance to step off the porch and clasped her around the waist. “Goodnight,” she murmured. “Have a lovely day tomorrow.”
This time Lindsey didn’t pull away immediately. They both lingered a little before they broke apart. Lindsey turned quickly, saying in a quick breath, “Goodbye,” and hurried down the garden path.
After a dry swallow, Daisy managed to say goodnight but Lindsey had already vanished down the road.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lindsey looked around admiringly as she made her way up the paved path to the front door. The impressive two-storey house occupied a quarter-acre block on a hill in an expensive inner suburb, with a splendid city view. Martin’s law career must be thriving to afford something so grand, she mused. Not that she found it surprising. He had always been obsessed with money, one of the reasons she hadn’t cared much for him.
Kirsty and a small girl greeted her at the door. The child’s face was framed by blond curls, her eyes were wide and wondering. It wasn’t hard to tell she was Kirsty’s daughter; she was a miniature version of her mother. Lindsey ducked until she was at eye level and said softly, “My, aren’t you a cutie.”
Giggling, the girl slipped in between her mother’s legs and looked at her shyly. Kirsty put her hands on her shoulders. “This is my daughter, Isabelle.”
“Hi, Isabelle,” she said, captivated.
Isabelle cast an anxious gaze at her mother who nodded. “Hello. Mum said Lin was comin’. Are you Lin?”
“Yes I am.”
“Oh. You must be nice ’cause Mum says I can only to talk to nice people.”
Lindsey straightened up and smiled at Kirsty. “Then I must be.”
With a chuckle, Kirsty waved her into the house. “Come on in. We’ll sit out on the terrace for a chat before lunch.” She turned to her daughter. “Go back to Play School, honey, while we have a talk.”
“Okay.” Isabella wandered off to the TV without a backward glance.
“Three-year-olds,” murmured Kirsty, “have the attention span of a gnat.”
“She’s gorgeous,” said Lindsey, feeling a touch of emotion. Isabella wasn’t much younger than Kirsty had been when they first met. And now her childhood friend had a child of her own. It was hard to believe.
“She has her father wrapped around her little finger. Now come on through. We’ve just finished renovating and knocked out a few walls to let in more light. The old place was rather dark with too many pokey rooms.”
Lindsey could see the refurbishment had style and flair, the whites and soft greys contrasting nicely with the polished timber floors. The lounge-dining-living area had been converted into one room in an open-air plan, with modern furniture and impressive artworks. The kitchen had stone bench tops, with a timber cabinetry bench separating the room from the living area. They walked out onto the deck where a lush garden surrounded a pool and barbeque arbour.
She sank into one of the chairs. “You have a lovely home, Kirsty.”
“Thank you. We’re proud of it. Now tell me how your life has been after the accident. From all accounts, you’ve achieved extraordinary things.” She looked pensive. “I knew you would, you know. With your talent and brains, you were destined to rise above the ordinary.”
“I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“Why is that? You’re only in your mid-thirties and already one of Australia’s leading scientists.”
Lindsey gazed at her curiously. “Did my mother ever tell you about my injuries?”
“Are you kidding me? Nobody was told a thing. I came every day to that damn ward for two weeks, only to be turned away at the door. Then one day I found you’d been discharged. Since your mother informed me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t welcome at your home, I had to give up.”
“I was taken to a private hospital. It took two years before I was pronounced completely fit.”
Kirsty stared at her blankly. “Everyone thought you’d had a swift recovery. How bad was it?”
“I was lucky to survive. Compound fractures of both legs, multiple contusions, a damaged kidney and,” Lindsey cleared her throat, “I lost my left arm.” She held it up. “This is an artificial limb.”
“Oh my God!” Kirsty clapped her hand over her mouth and stared at her in horror. “What an awful friend you must have thought me.” She began to cry.
“I prayed you’d look me up after I went out on my own, but you never did,” said Lindsey, blinking away her own tears. “Why didn’t you?”
Kirsty tugged a tissue from her pocket and wiped her face. “I couldn’t. Your mother said if any of my family came near you, she’d sue Amy for taking you on her bike. And I always thought that if you were interested, you’d find me.”
“What do you mean sue Amy?” whispered Lindsey.
“Just what I said. Because she was driving, according to your mother she was liable for your injuries. Martin said later that Amy would have had grounds to fight that allegation, but her parents aren’t wealthy so we kept away.”
Lindsey stared at her, struggling for composure. “Kirsty…listen to me. I thought Amy died in the crash?”
“No, she didn’t,” Kirsty replied with a frown. “She was pretty knocked around, but just broke her collarbone. Her family took her home the next day. Wherever did you hear that she was dead?” Then her eyes widened as the truth struck home. “Your mother. What did she say?”
Lindsey sprang to her feet, needing the distance, desperate to stop the helpless rage building inside her. “When I asked her what happened to Amy, she said she was gone.”
“Did she say anything more?”
“She never mentioned her again—ever. She knew perfectly well I thought she meant she’d died in the crash.”
“What a bitch.”
Lindsey wanted to break something, to smash it into little pieces. With her hands clutching the railing, she said bitterly, “That’s why I never looked you up all these years. I thought you wouldn’t forgive me going off with Amy and getting her killed. Where is she now?”
“At the moment in Afghanistan trying to catch a shot of the Hindu Kush snow leopard for a wildlife magazine. She’s a photographer. She always was adventurous and has travelled all over the world.”
“Good for her. I really liked her.”
“Geez, Lin, what your mother did was so nasty. Do you ever see her?”
“No. I walked out when I was twenty-three and I’ve never been back. Bernice came with me, which must have really infuriated her. Dad often comes in to see me at my town lab but we have an agreement never to mention her.” Lindsey closed her eyes, caught up in the past. “I’m her daughter. It always terrified me that I could become like her.”
“Are you crazy? You couldn’t have been less like your mother. You were poles apart. She cared about nobody but herself. You cared about everyone but yourself.” Kirsty searched her face. “How have you really been? I tried to follow your career, but apart from an occasional snippet about some invention, there was nothing about your private life. And I couldn’t find you on social media.”
“I don’t have much of a private life,” Lindsey replied, calmer now. With a sigh, she eased back into the chair. “I had problems with post-traumatic stress and found it too hard to socialize. It was easier to stay at home.”
Moisture swam back into Kirsty’s eyes. “You’ve been living like that all this time?”
“Yes.” When Kirsty’s tears began to spill over, Lindsey managed a reassuring smile. “Stop blubbering. It isn’t all that bad. My work is fulfilling. It’s amazing how much can be achieved if there are no distractions.”
“I’m not blubbering. So…what happened? It’s plain to see you’re not hiding away now. You’re looking good. Very avant-garde.”
“Thanks. Daisy’s the reason for that.”
“The woman you introduced yesterday?”
“Yes. She’s been doing some computer work for me.”
“Good for her.” Kirsty gazed at her with amused regard. “Just a friend?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, Amy is my cousin you know.”
Heat flushed across Lindsey’s cheeks. “She told you?”
Kirsty’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “I was your best friend for years and never once suspected. Just think all the times we compared notes about boys. Was it always me who initiated the heart-to-hearts?”
“Yes. I usually sat back and listened.”
“That sounds like I was a self-absorbed princess. How come you never told me you liked girls?”
Even now at the thought of her mother’s reaction to that revelation, a frisson of fear crept up Lindsey’s spine. She shivered. “It was a survival thing. It would have been suicide to bring that news home. I barely acknowledged it to myself. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I dreaded it getting out. As well, I couldn’t afford to lose you.” She felt fingers twine with hers and sighed. “We were happy, best friends. Why would I have jeopardized that for feelings I didn’t know how to handle? Telling you wasn’t an option.”
Kirsty’s grip tightened and she shook her head. “We were so naïve and full of hope. Remember our dreams. You were going to invent something fantastic and I was going to go on the stage and be a young Judi Dench.”
“Yes, I remember only too well. That bike ride changed everything. We’re different people than we were fourteen years ago. So…tell me about you. Did you ever get any stage work?”
“After I graduated, I went to London to study for two years at the Mountview Academy of Theatre Arts. It was a wonderful experience but led to nothing. Only a few bit parts, so I had to support myself by working in pubs. Martin was there to pick up the pieces when I finally realized I didn’t have the talent to make it.”