The captain announcing that they'd begun their descent into Sydney had Isabel turning towards him for the first time in ages.
'I'll drop you off on the way home,' she said.
'Fine. What about tomorrow?'
'What about tomorrow?'
'Will you be needing me?'
She stared at him. 'I thought you said you didn't like my treating you like some gigolo,' she said agitatedly. "That was a rather gigolo-sounding question.'
'I meant as a friend, Isabel,' he reproved, thinking to himself he had a long way to go to get her trust. That bastard Hal had a lot to answer for.
'Oh. Sony. I'm not used to men just wanting to be my friend.'
'I thought you said you were friends with Luke first.'
'Yes, well, Luke was the exception to the rule.'
'St Luke,' he muttered.
'Not quite, as it turned out.'
'No. So what about tomorrow?'
She sighed. 'I think I should spend tomorrow with Rachel.'
Rafe had no option but to accept her decision. Which meant if she hadn't conceived this month he'd have to wait till her next cycle before trying again.
Still, he admired Isabel for the way she'd dropped everything and raced to this Rachel's side. There weren't too many people these days who would have done that. He liked to think he was a good friend, but he suspected he'd become somewhat selfish and self-centred during his post-Liz years, another result of his bruised male ego which he wasn't proud of.
'What about the next day?' he asked.
'The funeral's then.'
'I'll take you.'
'No.'
'Yes. I'm not going to let you hide me away like some nasty secret, Isabel. Your mother already knows you went off to Dream Island with a man. I heard you tell her on the phone. I also gather you took quite a bit of flak about it. I didn't like that. In fact, I wanted to snatch that phone right out of your hand and tell your mother the truth.'
"The...the truth?'
'Yes. You are not cheap or easy, which I gather was the gist of her insults. You are one classy lady and I'm one lucky guy to be having a relationship with you. You're also a terrific friend and, I'll warrant, a terrific daughter. Someone should tell your mum that some day, and that someone just might be me.'
"That's sweet of you, Rafe, but you'd be wasting your time. Mum suffers from a double generation gap. She's still living back in the fifties and simply can't come to terms with the fact I'd go away with you like that so soon after meeting you. She was not only shocked, but ashamed.'
'Sounds like she suffers from double standards as well,' Rafe pointed out irritably. 'I'll bet she wasn't shocked when she found out your precious ex-fiancé leapt into bed with his new dolly-bird less than an hour after meeting her. And I'll bet she thought that was perfectly all right!'
'No. No, I don't think she thought that at all. It's hard for her to accept modern ways, Rafe. She's seventy years old.'
'That's no excuse.'
'No, but it's a reason. She'll calm down eventually. Meanwhile, I think it's best not to throw you in her face.'
'Isabel,' he said firmly, ''you are thirty years old. Way past the age of adulthood. You say you're going to live your life as you see fit. Well that should include in front of your mother.'
'That's all very well for you to say. You don't practise what you preach. You told me you lie to your mother all the time. You even pretend you're going to get married some day when you know very well that you're not.'
'That's all in the past. I'm going to be honest with her in future.' No trouble, Rafe thought. Because he was going to get married now. To Isabel.
'Yeah, right. Pity I won't be there to see the new-leaf Rafe.'
You will be. Don't you worry about that.
Tm coming with you to that funeral, Isabel. And that's that!"
Isabel glared at him. The man simply couldn't be told!
'Be it on your head then,' she snapped. 'And don't say I didn't warn you.'
By five o-clock on the day of the funeral, Rafe almost wished he'd heeded her warning. The service was over and they were back at Isabel's parents' place for the wake, and he was looking for a place to hide.
Unfortunately, there weren't too many people for Rafe to hide behind. It had been a very small funeral. Isabel and Rachel, whom Rafe had warmed to on first meeting today, had been cornered by some large woman, leaving Rafe to fend for himself.
The chill coming his way from Mrs Hunt was becoming hard to take, so were the disapproving looks at his earring. Goodness knew what would have been the woman's reaction if he hadn't shaved that morning. Or put on his one and only dark and thankfully conservatively styled suit.
Rafe valiantly ignored the dagger-like glances he was getting from his hostess as he filled his plate from the buffet set out in the lounge room. After checking that Isabel and Rachel were still occupied in the corner, he headed out to the front porch, where he'd seen a seat on the way in, and where he hoped to eat his food in peace, without having to tolerate Mrs Hunt's deadly glares.