It had been a gorgeous day and the bay below the town was dotted with kids and mums and dads playing in the shallows, eating fish and chips, or simply savouring the beauty of the place. Five minutes’ walk from the car park, the beach was much less populated. The odd dog walker was tossing sticks into the waves. Fishermen were setting up their lines for a night of hope.
Fifteen minutes’ walk from the town there was no one.
Noah had run here during the last couple of months, using the space and peace of the place to try and come to terms with his interminable wait. He wasn’t sure if it helped but it surely didn’t harm, and he knew the path so well now that he was sure where Addie was going.
Sure enough, as the track veered right along the bluff she branched left, onto a rough, semi-overgrown path that ran along a trickling creek.
Two hundred yards from the beach the creek bed rose sharply, water rippling over rocks worn smooth by thousands of years. Then the bluff loomed above them and the creek became a waterfall, not so high, maybe fifteen feet or so. There was not much water at this time of the year but enough to form a constant, falling shower into a freshwater pool. Ferns hung lazily over the water and soft moss covered the rocks.
This was Addie’s place? Noah had found this place, too.
‘You know it,’ Addie said on a note of discovery as they reached the water’s edge, and he thought she must have read it in his face.
‘It’s part of my favourite run.’
‘Which explains why the track isn’t completely overgrown. I had to bush-bash my way in when I first found it.’
‘It’s worth bush-bashing,’ he said, and she smiled. Like a co-conspirator. Someone who’d discovered that a little-known love was shared.
‘I swim here,’ she said. ‘Whenever I can.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Skinny dipping?’ Her smile grew wider.
‘Why not? There’s no one to see.’
‘But now you know my secret. No skinny dipping for me for the next four months.’
‘Four months?’
‘Isn’t that when you leave?’
‘So it is.’ Leaving was the least of it, but right now he didn’t want to think about the end point. ‘But no skinny dipping?’ he asked, moving on fast. ‘That’d be a shame. How about we agree to wear leper bells to warn each other we’re coming.’
‘I’m not sure you can buy leper bells any more,’ she said cautiously.
‘Sure you can. I’ll put in a pharmacy request this very evening.’
‘Can you imagine the reaction of the bureaucrats in Canberra when that rolls onto their database?’ She grinned. ‘You’ll have the entire bay in quarantine before you can blink.’
‘That might be interesting.’
‘That might be chaos,’ she said severely. ‘We had enough trouble when Jason Kimber came home from overseas with measles.’
‘Town shut down?’
‘Almost,’ she said. ‘The mayor had a four-week-old son who hadn’t been immunised, and the thought of measles was almost too much for him. It’s a serious disease and we had containment organised fast, but our mayor was all for evacuation, which could have spread measles across all Australia. Can you imagine if we hinted at leprosy?’
‘Maybe not, then,’ he said gravely. ‘Maybe just a cooee as we reach the last bend will have to be enough.’ He glanced at the box in her hands and then at her face. ‘Addie, do you want to do this alone? Would you like me to hold your hand while you say something? Stand beside you? Disappear for a bit?’
‘I... No.’
‘You want me to just shut up and...be?’
She gave him a shamefaced smile. ‘You understand. Yes, please. Noah, I shouldn’t have asked, but...’
‘It’s a privilege to be here,’ he said simply.
He backed away, and settled on a rock a few feet back from her. Giving her space.
Letting her be.
* * *
It was time.
Except...it wasn’t. Would it ever be time?
Addie stared down at the water. She felt the weight of the box in her hands and it was nothing compared to the grief in her heart.
It felt...overwhelming.
Noah had left her, not going far but far enough to give her privacy. She’d thought she wanted it but now...
The box in her hands... What it represented... Noah or not, she’d never felt so alone.
‘I don’t know that I can,’ she whispered.
And she wasn’t alone. Noah responded, his voice gentle, his words almost an echo of what was in her heart. ‘Then you don’t need to,’ he said. ‘Addie, there’s no pressure to do anything at all. If you feel like you need to keep your daughter’s ashes with you, then that’s what you should do.’
‘I need to let her go.’
‘Then take your time. There’s all the time in the world.’
‘I want... Noah, I don’t know what I want.’
She closed her eyes. She let her thoughts wander.
She talked.
‘You know my father died when I was two?’ she asked, maybe talking to Noah, maybe talking to herself.
‘Gavin told me.’
‘Did he tell you how dependent my mum was from them on? Over and over she told me, “If it wasn’t for you, Addie, I’d kill myself.” Fancy saying that to a child, but she did. “I want to be with your father,” she’d say. Every time I disappointed her she’d say, “I’m only here because of you.” I loved her and I’m sure she loved me but...no child should be raised with that sort of pressure.’
‘They shouldn’t,’ Noah said, but still it was like an echo. He was asking no questions. Her thoughts could go where they willed.
She was gazing down at the waterlilies now, but she wasn’t seeing them. She was seeing the barrenness of her past. She needed to talk about it.
What was it about this time, this place? This man? Why did she need to explain? She had no idea. She only knew the words were coming.
‘So after the Gavin fiasco, after the pain of Mum’s grief at our failed wedding, her illness, her death, I made a vow. I’d never depend on anyone like that. More, I’d never let anyone depend on me. Mum needed me to stay alive and that need almost crushed me. Then, when need was gone, it was like I was just...adrift.’
‘And then?’
It was a question but a quiet one. If she wanted to stop, right now, she sensed there’d be no pressure at all.
Strangely it made her want to keep going.
‘I quit my job after...after the mess of the wedding,’ she said. ‘I guess you already know that. I think Mum was more gutted than I was. It was almost like she’d been holding the cancer at bay until the wedding, and she got sick fast. Then, after her death...’
She paused. Stared at the water again. Stared at the box.
‘Don’t tell me unless you want to,’ Noah said gently.
‘I do want to. Isn’t that strange? You’ve been with me at two of the worst times of my life and now...it’s like I don’t have any secrets.’
‘Addie...’
‘I want to explain.’ Was she talking to Noah? Somehow it didn’t feel like it. She was standing by the water’s edge, holding her box, talking or not talking to a man sitting on a rock behind her. A man she hardly knew.
It didn’t make sense but the need to talk was almost overpowering.
‘After Mum died I was struggling to come to terms with who I was. I’d been so busy, so caught up in work, in care, in grief. And then, after Mum’s death, there was nothing. And one morning I woke up and thought how wonderful would it be to love without...dependency?’
‘Kids are pretty dependent,’ Noah said wryly, and she managed a smile. But not at him. He was simply her sounding board, in the background.
‘Yes, but not for ever,’ sh
e said. ‘As a doctor I’ve seen so many mums with babies, toddlers, young children. I see total love—but there’s more. Good parents, normal parents, they love their kids but even when they’re tiny they’re already launching them into their own lives. In so many ways they’re teaching them to be free. And I can do that. Or... I thought I could.’ She stared down at the little box and her grip tightened.
‘So you decided to have a baby.’
‘I did.’ It was practically a whisper. ‘But how? Dating left me cold. After Gavin... I thought I knew him so well. Would you go down that road again?’
‘I guess not.’ His tone was suddenly dry and she had a flash of compunction. Rebecca... His wife...
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t...’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said, roughly this time. ‘Addie, this is about you. Tell me what happened.’
She turned and shot him a grateful look, but then went back to staring down into the water. ‘I’m an obstetrician,’ she said. ‘I have friends who...well, the long and short of it was that I queue-jumped for sperm donation—but it didn’t work.’
‘Because?’
‘Because of the endometriosis. At least, that’s what they said.’ She shrugged. ‘So then I thought I’d get a job in the country, away from everything. I settled here and then decided to keep trying. Again and again. Finally I moved onto IVF. So many attempts. In the end I think I was just pig stubborn.’
‘Because you wanted this baby so much.’
‘I did.’ She shrugged. ‘And what’s left? A tiny pile of ash, and it’s time to let her go.’
Silence. He let her be while her thoughts drifted on.
‘I can do this,’ she said at last. ‘I have a life. I have Currawong, a job I love, a community that needs me. I have an adorable dog called Daisy. I have a life where I’m not dependent on anyone and, apart from professionally, no one’s dependent on me. I can be happy.’
‘I’m sure you can be.’
‘I just have to do this.’
‘If you really want to.’
‘This is what I want.’
‘Then do it,’ he said softly. ‘Do it with love.’
* * *
He went back to being a silent, watchful sentry. Addie sat on the moss by the waterfall and gave herself a few moments of quiet. Of peace.
Of love?
A wood pigeon was cooing in the trees above her head, almost a lullaby. The water was trickling into the pool at her feet and a carpet of waterlilies wobbled in the faint current. She could see a fat, mottled frog on a lily pad, waiting for unsuspecting insects.
This was the right place.
The place to scatter her dreams?
Behind her Noah was now completely silent. She shouldn’t have asked him to come but she was now desperately glad that she had. As well as being with her, he was her link to the future, to her work, to Daisy, to the world she had to get back to.
And by letting her talk...he’d stopped the grey from descending. Who knew what could have happened if he hadn’t been here? It’d be so easy to slip into the water with...
Um, not. That was her mother talking, not her. Besides, suiciding in three feet of water with frogs wasn’t exactly an option.
She almost smiled. She almost turned and shared the thought with Noah.
Maybe not. It was enough that he was waiting to walk her home.
It was time to move on.
She shifted down the rock and unfastened the brass clasp on her box. The tiny container was beautiful, something she could keep and treasure. Had Noah guessed that? This wasn’t a time to be thinking of Noah but she was still aware of his presence. It was something solid. Something to be trusted.
He seemed someone who somehow, weirdly, understood.
Her box was open now, revealing the tiny bag containing the ashes. She lifted the bag out and held it for a long moment. She thought...for ten weeks I was blessed. My daughter was real.
She waited until the heat from her hand warmed the ashes. It was all she could do. She let them go. They drifted slowly, settled, disappeared among the water lilies. The frog gave a gentle croak and leaped into the water. Ripples spread outward and then faded.
The evening’s peace settled once again over the pool.
She was left with nothing.
She sat surrounded by bleakness, but suddenly Noah was there, slipping silently to sit beside her. He sat, his body just touching, shoulder to shoulder.
It was okay. She didn’t want hugging or emotion, but the brushing of his body against hers was...necessary.
It grounded her. Gave her strength? Who knew? It was a strange concept but the emptiness inside receded.
She turned to Noah and she smiled. ‘Thank you, Noah. Time to go home?’
‘Is this your home, Addie?’
She thought of this pool, of the beach, of the place she worked in, of the community who cared, of all the oldies caring for Daisy, of Mrs Rowbotham who bossed and worried her, of the nurses and other doctors who cared for her. Even the scary Morvena...
She turned back to the pool. The ashes had disappeared, absorbed into the life of this tranquil place.
‘It is my home,’ she whispered. ‘I know it.’ She caught herself. ‘And how about you, Noah? Where’s your home?’
A shadow crossed his face that she didn’t understand, but he was pushing himself to his feet, giving her his hand so he could help her up, so she didn’t slip on the moss. Gathering himself into himself?
‘Who knows,’ he said lightly. ‘For four more months it’s here. Home is just...where I am.’
That’s not home at all, she thought, but she couldn’t say it. He was moving on. Getting ready to go.
Where?
* * *
The walk home was made in silence. Addie seemed lost in her own thoughts, and Noah...
There were so many thoughts in his head he had no hope of coming to terms with any of them.
He’d come here to support Addie. He’d left feeling shattered himself.
Too many memories...
Rebecca. His wife. A woman who’d been gutted because she couldn’t get rid of a baby. A woman who treated a child as disposable—a child he was fighting for.
His lawyers had told him the chances of winning a court case were small. That he had to move on.
He couldn’t without fighting, but if he lost, where was home then?
He couldn’t think of it. If he didn’t know where Sophie was...
Home was nowhere.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT SEEMED CHURLISH to get back to the hospital, say ‘See you later’ and leave it at that. But medicine had a way of filling spaces even when he didn’t want them to be filled.
So Noah spent an hour suturing an eight-year-old’s leg after a vicious dog bite. He spent another half an hour reassuring almost hysterical parents that he was sure their son wouldn’t carry long-term scars—that was why the suturing had taken an hour. He then spent more time with council officers and police, making statements that would be used to deal with a dog that had been left to roam at will on the beach where the kid had been playing.
He fielded an aggressive call from the dog’s owner, demanding that he change his statements, accusing him of blowing up ‘mere scratches’ into serious injuries.
He’d dealt with this kind of situation before and he’d had Heidi take photographs every step of the way. He called the police again to keep them up to speed on the owner’s aggression.
He checked in on Edith Oddie and found her slipping fast. ‘But the puppy did her so much good,’ her husband told him. ‘Imagine...this afternoon she woke and she laughed. With all her girls here. I think...’ He glanced at Edie’s peaceful but unresponsive face. ‘I think it’s almost over but this afternoon she laughed...’
Tears were slipping down
his face, but they were tears of acceptance, tears of peace.
Noah walked away and for some reason the conversation with Addie came back to him.
Fifty years married.
Some couples made it.
He walked back to the doctors’ house and there was something heavy inside him. He thought of Edith’s hand, held warmly, gently by her husband of so many years.
So much love...
He gave himself a mental shake. He didn’t get emotionally involved. Or not more involved than he already was. There was no room. Four more months and he was out of here, no matter what happened. He pushed open the door of the doctors’ house with decision—and decision was knocked out of him.
Addie had lit the fire and was sitting beside it, cuddling a sleepy Daisy.
‘I know it’s not cold,’ she said, almost defensively, as he walked in. ‘But the fire’s good.’
‘The fire’s excellent.’ He sounded cautious and he wasn’t sure why.
‘There’s lasagne in the oven. Mrs Rowbotham left it. I heated it all so it might have dried out a bit. Sorry.’ She waved a glass at him. ‘But there’s wine and you’re welcome to share my fire.’
He hesitated. The night...the fire...the woman... The scene he’d just come from. This was intimacy he wasn’t sure how to handle.
Addie...
Why had he been asked to share what had been such a personal moment this afternoon? He’d thought it was because he was separate—because she knew he wouldn’t let emotion hold sway. It was an entirely reasonable explanation but now, looking down at her, he wasn’t so sure that emotion could be contained.
Oh, for... This was ridiculous. She was a colleague. She’d asked him for a favour and now she was asking him to share her fire while he ate lasagne. And drank wine.
Maybe wine wasn’t such a good idea.
But that was crazy, too. He was off duty as of now. One of the family doctors was on call tonight. He’d been inundated while Addie had been away and he’d had to make rules to give him time off. From Friday night, only the most dire emergencies saw him being called.
The Baby They Longed For Page 6
