by Diana Fraser
Laura jumped up and came and stood in front of Max, sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck in one sinuous movement. His expression changed immediately.
“Are you saying, Max Connelly,” said his beautiful wife, her sexy brief top and tight jeans vying with her bright, mischievous expression to entrance her husband, “that clinging to old things is bad?”
It looked as if Max hadn’t a clue what he’d been saying only a few minutes earlier. “I might have been.”
“And who is it, dearest husband, who has insisted on keeping the old lanterns at the Lodge because they remind you of your mother?”
Max had the grace to look a bit sheepish. He cleared his throat as if to rid himself of the weakness. It didn’t work. “It could have been me.”
“It was you. Just as it was you who refused to allow anyone to revamp your man cave into something vaguely resembling clean and modern lines.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Nothing that a bomb wouldn’t rectify.”
“Laura,” said Max in a low voice.
“Max,” said Laura, echoing his threat and trumping it. She squeaked in surprise as he caught her in his arms and stopped any further talk with a devastating kiss.
His sisters groaned, and Gabe and his two brothers-in-law—Zane and Pete—laughed and shook their heads.
When eventually they parted, Max couldn’t take his eyes off Laura.
“I reckon it’s time to go.”
“No way!” Laura grinned. “I’ve been promised a swim, and a swim is what I’m going to get before we head back to Queenstown.” She turned to the others. “Are you guys going to join me?”
“Not us,” said Rachel. “We’ve got to be back at the marae by seven. Summoned by Zane’s mum. Besides, Laura, it’s winter, it’ll be cold.”
“It’s practically spring, and it’s never very cold.”
“So says the girl who won’t refuse a dare,” said Lizzi with a grin.
Laura grabbed hold of Max’s hand so he couldn’t escape—not that he looked like he wanted to, thought Amber—and they disappeared around the corner of the house, ducking under the old lantern which was half submerged by the overgrown wisteria, toward the beach.
Lizzi and Rachel took some empty dishes into the kitchen, leaving Pete and Zane with Amber, and Gabe and Maddy talking to David, with Gabe admirably smoothing things between Jim and David.
Zane stretched out in his chair. “Jeez, old Max sure is under his wife’s thumb! What do you reckon, Pete?”
Amber shook her head. “You two! You only talk like that when your wives aren’t around.” Zane grinned, and Amber knew he was joking. She always seemed to take the bait.
Pete laughed and topped up Zane’s outstretched wine glass. “Yeah! Who’d have thought it? Doesn’t seem two minutes since Max and I were having mates’ weekends in the bush. Dropped in the middle of nowhere, just a few of us—accountable to no one—and then a weekend of hunting and drinking.”
“Drinking?” exclaimed Lizzi, as she and Rachel came through from the kitchen. She snagged Pete’s glass from him and finished it off and handed him back the empty glass. “Aimee asked if you could read her a story.”
Pete looked from his empty wine glass to Lizzi and then back to Zane and shrugged.
Zane laughed until Rachel did the exact same thing. She drained the glass and put it on the table with a broad grin. She extended her hand. “Time to go, Zane. We’ve got a walk ahead of us yet.”
Zane didn’t look Pete in the eye, and Amber noticed Pete also mumbled something about Aimee wanting him. So much for her macho brothers-in-law. The Connelly women won out every time. She looked at David. The thought gave her hope for what she was about to do.
She’d bide her time, though. David had said he couldn’t stay long, but she was determined to make every second count. She walked over to the remaining group and David welcomed her with a warm smile and a side step to make room for her. She felt very feminine and nurtured as a brief silence fell, as everyone noted the warmth of David’s gaze on Amber, a warmth which he didn’t demonstrate with anyone else. It was nice, thought Amber, smiling up at him. Very nice. She could get used to this.
“Let me show you the beach, David. We’re lucky enough to have our own private beach at Belendroit.”
“Ah, Lantern Bay. It always looks so picturesque from town, especially at night, lit by the lanterns around your house.”
“It’s even better close to.”
David glanced at Jim. “If you’ll excuse me, sir.”
“Please, call me Jim. And, yes, you go and see the beach. It’s beautiful. My wife and I used to spend most of our time there. And the kids when they were younger…” He sighed as he became lost in memories, and Amber gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek.
“Pop, don’t go feeling sorry for yourself. A day doesn’t go by without someone coming to visit.”
Jim’s eyes brightened. “It’s certainly been lovely having Etta and all her friends visit. And when you marry and have children…” He broke off, as if suddenly aware of the situation.
Amber cleared her throat and shot her father a meaningful look. “See you later, Pop!”
“Come on,” she said to David with a smile. With Gabe and Maddy following, they went around the corner and walked across the increasingly springy grass until they reached the shoreline. A jetty went into the water and they were in time to see Etta jump off, doing a star jump against the darkening sky, then falling with a splash. Like Laura, Etta wasn’t afraid of cold water.
Amber sat on an upturned boat and David sat beside her. When Maddy and Gabe sat on the end of the dock watching the swimmers, they were alone.
For a moment David watched Amber’s family splashing and laughing in the sea, then he moved his serious gaze to the beauty of the dark hills which surrounded the harbor and the indigo sky still bright enough to reveal the shredded remnants of the sunset. Then his gaze settled on the lanterns which were strewn around the property, encompassing it with a light and security which never failed to move Amber. But, rather than look happy, David’s face grew more grim. He blinked. She’d thought he’d like it. Lantern Bay was one of her most favorite spots in the world.
“Is everything all right? I’m afraid my family can be a bit full-on.”
He turned to her and shrugged. “No, they’re fine. I mean, they’re very nice. I didn’t find them full-on at all.”
Amber grunted and toed the sand. It was no doubt true, because David was pretty full on himself. But she liked that. She was so easygoing that people often overlooked her. She always admired people who couldn’t be overlooked, people who stood midstream in a strong current of life while everything had to move around them. She was more likely to float off on the current. She sighed.
“Why the sigh?” David asked. And she turned to see he was closer to her, his face shadowy against the lantern which dangled from the pohutukawa tree behind him. “It sounded very wistful.”
“I was just thinking about how you are with them.” She shrugged. “With everybody really.”
“And how is that?”
“Uncompromising, I guess.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not good, or bad. Just a thing. It’s certainly a thing which would give you what you want more easily.”
He nodded. “You should try it.”
She shrugged again and looked out at her sister-in-law and niece splashing in the bay. “I like a quiet life. I don’t think going after what I want would bring me that.”
“Why? What is it you want?”
“Nothing much.”
“Come on. Close your eyes and tell me what would make you happy.”
She laughed, but closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift and form images of things which would bring her joy. “An exhibition of my paintings. A proper one. Not like the craft exhibition where you bought my paintings. But like a proper exhibition with only my paintings shown. A successfu
l exhibition where all my paintings are sold.” She opened her eyes. “But that’s just vanity.”
“Nothing wrong with vanity. Why don’t you organize one?”
“No one is interested.”
“What about your café? I’d have thought that would be the perfect venue. People go there because of you, because the café is all about your personality.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Amber grunted. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. Anyway, I have asked them, but they prefer to show the touristy things.”
“Leave it with me. I have some contacts.” It was nice of him, but she was under no illusions he’d be successful. “What else?”
She closed her eyes. And for some reason, the Eiffel Tower popped into her head. She opened her eyes again. “Nothing else. Just be happy with what I’m doing here, in Akaroa.”
“You’ve really no thoughts outside this place? You’ve never been interested in any other country?”
“Oh, I love all things French. But then, in Akaroa, we have French history, so…”
“But what about travel? Presumably you’ve been to Europe?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“So… where have you been?”
“Nowhere. Just here. Sometimes I go to Shelter Springs to see Lizzi, but otherwise I stay in Akaroa and Christchurch.”
“Why don’t you travel?”
Why indeed? How had he managed to drive the conversation to this? The memories of what happened five years ago were still vivid. She could feel the visceral clenching in her gut. She swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“I don’t like to.”
“But you’d love France. I can just picture you there. You’d love everything about it. And not just France. What about Italy? Morocco? Berlin?”
She gave a tight smile and shook her head. She jumped up. “We should be getting back. Pop will be feeling left out.”
But before she could turn around, David laid his hand on her arm. It was only a light touch, but it stilled her. She turned to face him and found him nearer than she’d imagined.
He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “What is it? What makes you suddenly so afraid? It’s only the world.”
“Maybe the world isn’t to be trusted?” She shrugged again and walked away, ignoring his light touch on her arm. She quickened her pace and was soon away from the beach, back under the verandah lights with her father sitting in his usual chair reading the paper. This was what she wanted. Security. Safety.
He looked over his glasses at her. “No swim for you this evening, Amber?”
She was so choked up she couldn’t bring herself to reply. Just shook her head.
He frowned. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Is David—”
But whatever her father had been about to say was lost as David came round the corner.
“It’s all fine, Pop, honestly. David’s about to leave.”
But, as Amber stepped away to allow David and her father to politely take leave of each other—both still obviously wary of each other—Amber couldn’t help thinking that things weren’t just fine. Being with David, talking with David, was stirring up things she’d prefer to forget, challenging things she’d decided were the only way forward. Life was easier staying within known boundaries, known limits, where she couldn’t be hurt. Suddenly she realized that both David and her father were looking at her.
“Sorry?” she asked.
“I was just saying, Amber,” said Jim, as David walked down the steps towards her, “that David must come again.”
“Of course. That would be lovely.”
David and Amber walked across the shadowy lane to where he’d parked his car. She leaned against the rear door as he opened his door.
“Thank you for inviting me, Amber. I’ve enjoyed meeting your family.” He cast a quick glance at Jim, who immediately turned away. They were being observed, and both David and Amber knew it. They looked back at each other with a smile.
“Sorry about Max. I think he still believes I’m twelve years old and need protecting.”
“That’s fair enough. You are his little sister and you always will be. A brother should protect his sister.”
“Maybe, but he’s not here to protect me now.” She took a step closer, because it didn’t look as if he would. And without another word—because what else was left to say?—she slid her hands over his shoulders, rolled onto tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. For a fraction of a moment, when he began to answer her kiss and it deepened, she thought she’d fallen into a place where she belonged. Then he gripped her around her upper arm and stepped away. She didn’t know who was more embarrassed.
They both began to speak at once and stopped at once.
“I’m sorry, I thought…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” She turned and ran away a few steps before turning back to see that he hadn’t moved. “My mistake.” She paused to give him a chance to speak. It was dark where he’d parked amongst the trees, and the lights from the lanterns didn’t extend far enough to reveal his expression—only his outline: hands on hips, white shirt glowing in the dark. His dark hair and dark eyes revealed no reaction. “Right, I…” She trailed off, nodding toward the house. “Goodnight, then,” she mumbled, before turning and walking quickly back to the house.
Even at the house, as she slowed her walk and climbed the steps onto the now empty verandah, she thought he might follow her any moment and explain why he hadn’t kissed her back. But all she heard was the roar of his engine, and all she saw were its tail lights as it bounced over the rutted drive and out onto the winding coast road, back to Akaroa.
Why didn’t David want her? Was there something wrong with her?
“Amber!” Jim’s voice brought back to the present with an abrupt bump.
She followed his voice into the library where Jim—who’d obviously had a hefty slug of his replenished tumbler of whiskey in the time Amber had gone to the car—was looking at old photos. He had one of them in his hand, and the whiskey in the other. “Lizzi looks so like your mother.”
Amber took the photo from him. “Ah, look at us all.” Her eyes lingered on her mother—who had died when she was only ten—and then Lizzi. “Even then they looked like sisters.”
He put the photo back. “It was before she became ill. She was a beautiful woman. I didn’t deserve her.”
“Oh, Pop. That’s the alcohol talking.” She took his half-finished whiskey and placed it on the sideboard. “We’re still here for you. Look at us all tonight.”
She managed to put a smile on his face. “That’s true.” Then he laughed. “It certainly wasn’t boring with your David there.”
“What do you mean?” Amber asked.
“Seems to me,” said Jim, “that your David—”
“Not my David,” said Amber sulkily, remembering the rebuffed kiss.
“Well, he’s not mine!” he said, shooting her an outraged look. “As I was saying, I think your David created more confusion than anyone you’ve ever brought here.” He retrieved his whiskey and took a generous slug, grimacing slightly. “Or anyone has ever brought here.” He placed his glass a little too firmly onto the table. “Rachel looked insulted at his response to her dinner.”
“He has some kind of prior engagement.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“And he didn’t eat any of Rachel’s fancy baking.”
“I guess he doesn’t eat that kind of food.”
“It’s wonderful food.”
“I guess he doesn’t eat wonderful food then.”
“He doesn’t drink wine, so Pete didn’t have anything to talk to him about.”
“He talked to Lizzi,” she said.
“Correction. Lizzi talked to him, while his eyes followed you around the room.”
She flushed pink at the thought. “Did they?” Suddenly all the d
oubts and concerns about the evening vanished.
“Yep,” said Jim. “They sure did. Your David managed to confuse, bewilder, upset and aggravate everyone to some degree or other.”
Amber sighed. Her dad was right because it sure felt he’d done all of those things to her. Trouble was he’d also charmed the hell out of her. And she didn’t know what on earth she was going to do about that.
5
Amber lay in her small bedroom at Belendroit watching the sunlight filter through the leaves, creating dancing shadows on the ceiling rose, and catching the crystal droplets of the chandelier with sudden sparkles of color. Her father said the elaborate chandelier looked incongruous in such a small room. It had been hers since birth, and despite having her own cottage in town, she still often used it. More to keep her father company, she’d always persuaded herself. But now she was beginning to wonder.
David’s direct questions about traveling forced her to confront the real reason why she never went anywhere. She was plain scared. After what had happened to her, she’d been more than happy to do as her father had suggested—stay close to home. Stay away from anyone who might take her away and use her, taking advantage of her nature which was to sail away, like a leaf on the water, like a cloud scudding across the sky. She wanted to be anchored here, where it was safe.
But she trusted David. And, for the first time in years, she imagined spreading her wings with David by her side. It was a happy thought.
“Someone looks happy,” said Flo, glancing up from her paperwork.
“Yes,” said Amber, tossing down her tasseled, beflowered handbag she’d bought for a song at a flea market in Christchurch. “Someone is.”
Flo grinned, sat back and studied Amber. “I wonder if that’s something to do with a certain David I’ve been hearing so much about.”