Taking a bag of peanuts from the selection he’d picked up from a vending machine, Lucas looked at his watch, worried that he couldn’t see Harriet. It was only five minutes to go and he was starting to think she’d stood them up when Jimmie nudged him and pointed to the door where a group of basketball players had gathered. “She’s number five.”
Wheel chair basketball. Lucas was fast thinking he shouldn’t have been surprised. This last week had been one long series of surprises. He identified her easily with her blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Like her teammates, she was wearing a sleeveless vest and shorts and seated in a squat wheelchair with two large splayed wheels and a small stabiliser wheel in the centre of the back. He could see she had braces on her knees and as he watched she strapped broad Velcro bands around her ankles, knees and thighs holding them firmly together onto the chair.
When the whistle blew, the action started thick and fast immediately, with Harriet in the midst of it. It was she who scored the first goal before being tumbled by the collision with a player from the opposing team. Lucas half rose but Jimmie tugged him down as Harriet pushed with her arms to right herself and dived back into the fray. Jimmie seemed to be enjoying himself with a packet of chips, his eyes following the action.
When Harriet went for another spill landing on her back, Lucas was on the edge of his seat to see how she twisted and thrust out with her arms to spin the light-weight chair back into play.
Jimmie was laughing. “These girls play rough, but you should see the guys. They’re even faster. They come on next after this match.”
In the hope of seeing Harriet, he hung around through the next match and was rewarded when she appeared from the dissipating crowd in her usual chair, wearing a light tracksuit. Jimmie jogged off and returned pushing the empty sporting wheelchair with a backpack sitting on the seat. He wondered briefly who had helped her when she arrived but her casual thanks and goodbyes to a group with several able-bodied people answered the question.
Outside, Lucas took stock, trying to re-familiarise himself with the school. Harriet directed Jimmie away from the main car park and the lad moved ahead, playing some kind of game with the wheelchair, waggling from side to side on the footpath. New buildings took up formerly open areas and for a moment he was disoriented.
The car park he felt should have been familiar, but it had been a bare patch of dirt, not this large rectangle surrounded by concrete footpaths. Her car was the only one there, in the specially paved area off to one side, designated for disability. Harriet handed her keys to Jimmie and Lucas helped him load the sporting wheelchair into the hatchback.
“It that the same tree?”
Harriet swivelled in her chair to see where he pointed. “I imagine so.”
She sounded indifferent and he hesitated. “It’s much bigger of course.” Curiosity triumphed and he marched across the open area to the spreading tree at the far corner. How many afternoons had he waited for Harriet to come out from her classes under that tree? He expected it to be too dark to see what he was looking for, but a security light close by shone on the blotchy trunk. Scarred by the careless engravings of a multitude of students, he nevertheless looked for one particular carving.
There it was. He ran his fingers over the grooves in the timber. The bark bulged slightly around the lettering, but it was still legible.
“Did you do that?” Jimmie’s voice startled him out of his preoccupation.
He looked down at the boy, seeing the brightness in the brown eyes. “Yes. I used to hang out here a long time ago and I got bored.”
Jimmie traced the lettering with his finger. “L…H…4…H…E…4… e…ev…”
“Forever.”
“It’s in a heart. Was Harriet your girlfriend?”
“For a little while. A long time ago.”
“Before the accident?”
Lucas looked across the open space to where Harriet waited. Separated from them by two gutters and a sea of loose gravel her wheelchair couldn’t traverse. “Yes, before the accident.” Separated from him by a whole lot more. When he’d carved those initials, he believed in forever, and he was starting to believe Harriet might have too. If only he could find out the meaning in words spoken to an outsider, overheard at a time she couldn’t have known of his presence.
The lad licked his lips nervously. “Was it your motorbike?”
Lucas nodded absently, his mind distracted. Harriet had been the same age as this boy. Vulnerable. Barely more than a child. He hadn’t taken that into account back then, more concerned with his own ego, his own feelings. Once again, he looked at the distance between them.
She sat quite still, her eyes lowered to her lap where her hands tangled in that nervous way she had. Not indifferent after all. But her incapacity to span the divide was more than just physical. He would have to make the first move. The question remained, did he want to?
With a last brush of his fingers over the battered relic of an innocent youth, he smiled down at the boy. “We’d better get you home.”
4
“How did you get this number?” After the cool parting the other night, Harriet was in no mood to be receptive to Lucas. His interest in that old tree had raised hopes that had been cruelly dashed on his return. He’d told her he’d see her off safely and stood quietly chatting to Jimmie while she levered herself into the car. She might as well have left while he was on the other side of the car park with his new best friend. “I asked a question, Lucas. How did you get this number?”
“Geek magic of course.” There was an undertone in his voice that suggested he was laughing. Like he’d done the first time he’d pulled her phone number out of thin air back when they first met.
“I suppose you Googled it somehow.”
“You can’t Google silent numbers. But I’ll keep my secret for now. I called to invite you to dinner. We need to talk.”
“I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.”
“Harriet, after everything that went on, the lies you told, I think you owe me this.”
There was no humour in the severe statement and she told herself she was glad. He was too disturbing to have in her life again. She’d barely survived the last time he walked away, even though it was at her instigation. “I owe you an apology, Lucas. That’s all I owe you. I’m sorry I lied. There’s nothing more.”
“That’s not good enough. I want explanations. I want to know why.”
“You know why. You heard it all the other day.”
“I heard part of a conversation. Don’t you think I deserve better than that?”
He deserved so much more. He deserved more than she could ever give him. “I really have nothing more to say.” Her throat was so tight, that last came out more as a squeak.
“Harry, come on. How hard can it be?”
“Too hard…” She slammed the receiver down just in time. Before the gasping breath gave away how close she was to tears. Tears she mustn’t shed. There’d already been far too many.
The sight of Jacarandas blooming along the river as Harriet went to work the following week served as a reminder that time ruled all things. The purple flowers were dreaded by those students preparing for final exams as their blooms invariably coincided with the schedule for final assignments and exams at the end of the year and for Harriet and Lucas they had marked the final intense months of their relationship. Even seven years later the sight of the Jacarandas lovely flowers caused Harriet’s throat to close and her chest to tighten. They were linked to too many memories.
Even Jimmie’s cheerfulness niggled and when she was short with him over a mistake, she had to pull herself back into line. Her rudeness to Lucas on the phone haunted her. He’d been right, she did owe him at least a few minutes of her time. Being afraid didn’t cut it as an excuse for poor behaviour. She’d been brought up better than that. She was better than that. But somehow Lucas triggered all her defensive mechanisms. Because he was important. It was easy to be calm
and polite when you didn’t care.
Lucas didn’t understand what he was doing outside Harriet’s office building. He spent the morning signing off on a major government contract and should have headed straight back to his office instead of making this detour. Since Harriet hung up on him he’d avoided thinking of her, filling his mind with encryption codes and long strings of numbers.
Somehow today he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Looking up at the Jacaranda tree bursting into bloom he considered that maybe it was the time of year that was interfering with his concentration.
Jimmie greeted him with a simple pleasure that soothed something raw inside his chest. When several other people arrived, the young receptionist pointed him down the hallway and excused himself to deal with the newcomers. Lucas walked slowly towards Harriet’s office, curious about how she would greet him after the phone episode. Reaching her door, he paused, waiting for her to notice him but she seemed oblivious to his presence.
He could see a spreadsheet up on the screen, but she just seemed to be staring at it, making no movement at all. “Harriet?”
She turned abruptly, releasing a small gasp. “Lucas, I didn’t expect you. Is something wrong?” Looking at her pale face Lucas felt he should be asking the same question. Her white face only made the pink tinge around her eyes more obvious and he wondered what would make a determinedly cheerful person like Harriet cry in the workplace. “Are the computers all running okay?”
Nodding, Harriet fixed the smile back on her face, “Yes, brilliantly thank you. Everyone is thrilled. You’re very popular around here at the moment.”
Sitting down at the spare workstation Lucas shrugged, “Only until something goes wrong. But if it does make sure you give me a call.” With a nervous laugh, Harriet shook her head. “We Googled you, so we know you are far too important to do house calls. We’ll call the technician who left us his number if there are problems.” There was an awkward pause and Lucas waited patiently for some reaction.
“Lucas, I’m pleased you did drop in. I wanted to apologise for hanging up on you the other day. I had no excuse for being rude.” The words came out in a rush as she fixed a determined smile on her face.
“If you want to make it up to me, how about dinner. You could come over and have Spaghetti Bolognese. I still do the recipe you like.” Her eyes widened and he saw the smile waver.
“What’s your house like?”
He looked at the wheelchair and smiled ruefully “Not very accessible, to tell the truth. An old Queenslander on the side of a hill.”
She bit her lip, forgetting to smile and Lucas watched her face, fascinated by the struggle. “You could bring the stuff to my place if you like. I have a decent kitchen.” It was his turn to be surprised. He expected her to take the excuse and run with it. Now she was inviting him into her home.
Lucas stood preparing to leave, “That sounds good. Where and when? Tonight would be good for me.”
Harriet gulped. So soon, but then less time to get nervous over it. Small consolation. “Sure, come any time after seven. I usually swim when I get home.” It was a mistake mentioning the swimming, she realised when his eyes brightened. He’d always been a keen swimmer, using the university pool several mornings a week. “You have a pool? Would it be imposing on you if I joined you this evening?”
Harriet shook her head reluctantly. “No, of course not. It’s the complex pool on the roof level. Technically it isn’t supposed to be used in the evening because the indoor pool is available twenty-four seven. I have special permission and a key.” She wrote down the address and told him to use the intercom so she could buzz him up when he arrived.
After Lucas left, Harriet found herself staring at the spread sheet again until she forced herself to get on with the work. At least it wasn’t really a date so there was no way she would be getting the wrong idea. Just two old…friends…former lovers… former…she had to remember that, having a meal together and catching up. That was all Lucas wanted.
Even though she expected him, the buzzer still made her jump. She’d been on edge ever since Lucas made the arrangement. Pressing the downstairs entry release she moved back into the lounge area and then changed her mind, waiting in the hallway. She heard the chime of the lift and opened the door, pushing it back until it locked in place.
He was so damned tall. It had been nice when they danced all those years ago, his jaw resting on her head, her cheek against his beating heart. Now she was navel gazing, the silver buckle on his leather belt in her direct line of sight. She lifted her chin quickly, meeting his amused look. She had not been looking at the bulge in his pants. Well, only indirectly.
“Where should I put this stuff?’
“Kitchen. Straight through and on the left.” He strode past her, shopping bags in one hand and a canvas backpack in the other. Closing the door, she followed him to the kitchen. He’d shed his jacket somewhere but otherwise he was still dressed as he’d been at her office. The scruff shadowing his jaw-line somehow only made him seem sexier. Like morning after stubble. She’d never stayed the whole night so she hadn’t really seen him like that.
The relationship hadn’t really progressed that far back then. Going home each night to comply with her parent’s curfew made sure of that, but now she could imagine how he must have looked, all ruffled and prickly. There must be a special clipper to keep it at that short length. Not something she’d ever thought about before.
She joined him in the kitchen as he put a pack of minced beef in the fridge and dropped the rest of the shopping onto the long granite bench. “You must be planning on feeding an army.”
“There’s something for dessert as well.”
“You’ve developed a sweet tooth?”
“I always had one, but the budget didn’t run to fancy stuff while I was studying.”
He pulled out a frozen cheesecake and pot of French vanilla ice-cream and put them in fridge and freezer respectively. “I think I remember you liked raspberry cheesecake.”
Startled at him remembering something so inconsequential she almost dropped the carton of juice she was putting away. He scooped it from her failing grip and tucked it on the shelf beside her bottle of milk. “Hold on. I’ve got this.”
Embarrassed, she lashed out. “I’m perfectly capable of putting shopping away. It’s my legs not my hands.”
“Hey, cool it. I wasn’t implying anything. It’s all done now anyway.” He loomed over her, hands on hips and a crease between his dark brows. “Still Miss Independence, I see.”
A reluctant smile twitched her lips. “You remember all my bad points.”
“Raspberry cheesecake couldn’t be called a bad point.”
“It’s a weakness all the same.”
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles in a playful gesture that tightened something in her chest. “So? Nobody’s perfect.”
Picking up his backpack he moved out of the kitchen. “Now, where can I get changed? I don’t imagine you want me stripping off in your living room.”
She contemplated his crooked grin and let her gaze run down his body. Well… “Of course not. You can use the spare bedroom. I’ll show you.”
With a quick twirl of her wheels, she led the way to the bedrooms. “This one. If you need anything, I’ll be just across the hall.”
With a questioning glance towards the door of the master bedroom, he nodded. “I’ll yell if I need help.” Not that help was what he needed from her.
“You…” He was so infuriatingly attractive like this. Shaking her head, she entered her own room, pushing the door to with unnecessary vigour so the slam echoed down the corridor. What was happening to her? He was waking up things, things better left buried, dormant.
By the time she changed, he was well and truly ready, back in the kitchen slicing onions. The overhead lights gave his light, honey-brown skin a glow as it stretched over strong shoulders and accentuated the well-developed pectorals and washboard abs. Two, four, six…all accounted
for. A fine trickle of dark hair bisected his stomach below his navel, drawing attention to his masculinity.
Was fate cruel or kind sending Lucas into her life, wearing nothing but a low-cut pair of designer swimming shorts? Not really budgie smugglers, more like…what was bigger than a budgie? A galah, maybe a cockatoo? She wiped the silly grin off her face as he looked up inquiringly.
“I just thought I’d get a head start while I was waiting.”
His eyes flicked over her, taking in the hair up in a topknot and the plum coloured loose jacket covering her matching bikini. The way his eyes darkened as they lingered on the flesh revealed by the opening of the coat did something funny to her pulse. She saw him stiffen as he took a good look at the smooth, flesh coloured fibre-glass knee braces. The warmth seeped away at the sudden crease between his brows. He was like all the rest, forgetting she was a woman because of her legs. Wrapping her arms around her body she tilted her chin, daring him to say something.
She was doing it again. He’d seen the interest in her eyes as they lingered on his chest and lower. But as soon as she’d seen him checking her out she closed up, her eyes chilly and mouth compressed. He’d learned about body language in an extracurricular course at UCLA and the folded arms were classic.
Something was going on but how did he get her to tell him what he’d done to upset her? It was too easy to say the wrong thing. Especially with their history. All the same, it was surprisingly easy to fall back into the old patterns. From before everything went wrong. Grabbing a clean tea-towel from the drawer, he spread it over the chopped onions. “All ready to cook when we get back.”
“How did you know where everything was?”
“By being a nosey parker. I was looking for a board to cut the onions on and I think I must have opened every cupboard in the place before I found it.”
Tell Me No Lies Page 5
