She rushed to the staffroom for her bag, said goodbye to the women in the office, and called to Cole. ‘This way. Thanks for this, Joe.’ Despite the tension in her stomach knotting tighter and tighter with each passing minute, she was grateful to him. To be stuck in town wouldn’t be comfortable.
They dashed to her car, leapt in and slammed the doors, clothes soaked through in those few seconds. ‘At least it’s not cold,’ she muttered. Inside and outside her pulsing body.
‘How did you cope with the northern winter? I’ve seen pictures of England and Europe in blizzards and snowstorms. It’s not exactly enticing to a Queenslander.’ Cole adjusted the seat to give his long legs as much space as possible and clipped his seat belt in place.
If she hadn’t been watching she’d have missed the tightening of his mouth as he shifted his left leg. What had happened? she asked herself again. Something terrible, by the way he looked and moved. Something more than a simple accident.
He hadn’t mentioned anything during any of their infrequent phone conversations either. Anger started to boil at being left out of the loop—and his refusal to talk when she’d asked. She swallowed hard, forced it down. She’d demand answers when they were at home and she could watch his face. Right now she had to focus on getting home, and keeping the disturbing subjects on hold. ‘You know me and any temperature below twenty degrees. Julie took me shopping for thick jackets and thermal tops the day I arrived in London.’
‘How’s Julie? Still enjoying living over there?’ Cole and her sister had always got along, though now Julie was backing her determination to work out what she truly wanted with her future.
And her mother was setting a great example of being true to herself, even if it was thirty-five years late, by painting as though there were years of pictures stored in her mind waiting to be put on canvas. She was so happy and healthy. Dad was a different man too now that he understood there was more to gain than lose by supporting his wife in her endeavours. What were the chances of Cole doing the same if she explained again, more thoroughly? This time with more emphasis on how she’d still always be there for and with him.
‘Julie loves London. If the company can arrange her a permanent work visa she intends staying on and buying an apartment. She’s met a guy who might be the one.’ She was head over heels and had still taken a month off work to go away with Vicki to Europe, leaving her boyfriend behind. Setting an example of how a relationship should not be about one person keeping the other happy all the time. That was her sister.
Their brothers had always kept an eye on them both, too, even more so on Vicki lately. They meant well, but nowadays she preferred making her own decisions, right or wrong. It gave her a sense of self-worth. In a way their loving stifled her, and could explain why she’d fallen in line with Cole right from the beginning. They all meant well. It didn’t mean they were right.
‘What did you think of the countries you visited in Europe? Would you go back again? In the summer?’
‘Maybe one day.’ She far preferred melting in Queensland’s humidity and heat any day. ‘I’d like to return to France and Italy. Four weeks was nowhere near long enough. We barely got started. During my month in London I took short trips all over the north of England and Wales when Julie was at work, and at the weekends she showed me around London and the South.’
‘You never once mentioned wanting to go over there.’ Was that annoyance in his voice?
Too bad. When she’d needed to get away from Sydney it had been an instinctive reaction to head home but for the first time it hadn’t felt right. Everyone had wanted to tell her what to do. Julie said she had to make her own choices, and supported her without overwhelming her. ‘I really went to spend time with Julie. I’d have gone wherever she was.’
‘Within reason, I hope.’
‘No war zones, for sure.’ Leaning over the steering wheel, she peered through the river running down her windscreen where the wipers were on full speed and not achieving a lot. ‘This is crazy.’ So was the way longing for Cole kept catching at her. It was diverting her from what this weekend was about.
‘At least there’s not much traffic about any more.’
He was right. ‘Most of the shops are closed.’
‘Is there anything we need to get?’
‘No. I did the groceries last night.’ Got in extra beer and wine in case the going got too awkward. ‘You’re on cooking the steak.’ He was a dab hand at getting the sirloin perfectly medium rare.
‘I figured.’ Though still guarded, his voice had lightened.
Getting closer to old times. She didn’t want that. It was a slippery path. Her head thudded. Tears threatened.
Don’t cry.
Then she’d need wipers on her eyeballs. She needed to get angry, not sad. No. Neither option was wise. Anger led to lack of control and that was one thing she couldn’t afford to lose over the coming days. If only she could give in and pull over to the kerbside and wrap her arms around Cole and kiss him, long and deep, and filled with the love she had to deny. If only. A kiss might fix everything. Or nothing. But giving it a go would ease the tightness brought on by not throwing herself at him the moment he’d arrived at the medical centre as she’d always done in the past.
The desire became an ache in her heart, throughout her body. For the first time ever they wouldn’t be making love the moment they charged into the house. Or kissing like their lives depended on feeling, tasting, pressing their mouths together. What had she done? Why hadn’t she found the patience to wait until he returned from East Timor before she changed everything? Then she could’ve kissed him and wound her arms and legs around him, and shown how much she loved him all over again.
And nothing would’ve changed.
True. She’d started something there was no going back on. Fear hit her. What if this really was the end of everything between them? It was all very well telling herself she was doing the right thing and that they might be finished as a result, but Cole was her other half. She loved him, needed and wanted him.
And I can’t go back to being at his beck and call.
Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator and the car shot forward. She braked sharply, and the wheels skidded on the wet tarmac.
‘Take it easy,’ Cole snapped. On his thighs, his hands were clenched, while his whole body was rigid.
What was that about? Her driving hadn’t been dangerous, just a little abrupt.
‘Slow down.’
She didn’t reply for fear of shouting that it was impossible to take any damned thing easy with him sitting beside her, sharing the air, diverting her from what she should be concentrating on. Instead she focused on driving carefully through the numerous massive puddles covering the road at regular intervals, and hoped fervently that they got through to Palm Beach, while swallowing the longing and disappointment filling her. With every kilometre she drove her stomach grew harder, tighter, filling with stress over resolving everything in a way that worked for both of them, and fear that they never would.
‘Dad sends his love.’ Cole broke the tightening silence. Unable to cope any more?
Did Conrad know she’d left Cole? She should’ve kept in touch since the miscarriage but it was difficult. He was Cole’s father first and foremost. ‘I phoned Conrad about the miscarriage. He was very upset, and supportive.’
* * *
Beside Vicki, Cole stared out the window, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his thighs as he recalled the day his dad had called to say Vicki had phoned about the miscarriage.
‘You should tell her, son.’
His father’s words had drummed inside Cole’s head as he’d lain on his hospital bed in Darwin. ‘Easy to say, Dad.’
‘She has a right to know.’ Dad hadn’t given up. At least he’d promised not to talk to Vicki about Cole’s accident until Cole had broached the subject first.
&nbs
p; And that hadn’t happened in a hurry. He hadn’t been able to tell her until he’d known for certain he would walk again.
‘Yes, she does. When I’m ready.’
He hadn’t wanted to give her the chance to fly up to Darwin and see him attached to more medical equipment than he’d ever seen on any patient. It hadn’t been the tubes that had worried him. It had been the reason for them. Not the splenectomy, or the three fractures to his left leg. It had been the pain in his back. The spinal damage was a concern, his orthopaedic surgeon had said. A downright nightmare, Cole had thought.
What if he never walked again? Until he could know for sure he would be able to get up and look after himself, he would not lay his problems at Vicki’s feet. He had not wanted her taking him back because he was seriously injured. He couldn’t have cope with that humiliation.
‘She’s got enough problems already.’
Neither could he have expected Vick to rush to his side when he hadn’t been able to go to her, even before that vehicle had driven into the army truck. Not when she’d told him she couldn’t take any more.
‘You take care, son. I’ll call again tomorrow.’ His dad’s voice had broken and he’d hung up before Cole could say any more.
‘Damn it.’ Cole had stared some more at the ceiling he’d been getting to know too well. ‘I seem to have made a habit of upsetting those nearest and dearest without even trying.’ Should he call Vicki and talk about that dreadful day? She wasn’t going to happy whenever she learnt about it, which was a given, so he might as well wait until he was up on his feet. Because he would walk again. He would.
But what he wouldn’t have given to have had the love of his life there with him; to hold her hand, feel her lips on his. Just to talk about them, the miscarriage, their future. A future they wouldn’t have any more if she had meant what she’d said.
Giving in to the relentless agony in his heart, he had picked up the phone and hit the speed dial for Vicki. ‘Hi, sweetheart. How are you today?’
‘Much the same.’ Her voice had had the familiar flatness he’d heard during the few conversations they’d had over the previous week. ‘What about you?’ It hadn’t sounded like she even cared.
Resentment had risen. There he had been, incapacitated, in pain, afraid he might not walk again despite his determination he would, and she had been in a fog all of her own.
‘Just great, thanks,’ he had snapped.
‘That’s good. Did you want to talk about anything in particular?’
He hadn’t even been able to wind her up, she had been so down. The Vicki of old would’ve bitten his head off for the way he’d just spoken. ‘Yes, us.’
Her sigh had resonated through the ether. ‘Oh.’