‘I’m not pregnant. I’m not sick. I don’t have cancer.’
‘What is it then?’ her mother asked.
Anna tried to speak but the words stopped. This it is, she thought. This moment could be the end of everything. But she had to do it, had to tell them now.
‘What I have is a husband who wants a divorce.’
The only sound in the room was a muttered prayer from her mother. Anna found the strength from deep down inside to look at each of them in turn. Luca’s mouth, full of stir-fry, gaped open in shock and his eyes darted to his father. Tears welled in Grace’s eyes and she was wiping them away with the sleeve of her shirt. Their mother had turned white and was crossing herself. Nonna kept chewing but regarded her granddaughter with narrowed eyes. Anna felt the weight of her revelation like a cardiac arrest; the pounding of her heart in her temples and behind her eyes, in her fingertips and behind her breasts.
Then there were gasps from around the table, so loud that Anna was surprised there was any oxygen left in the room. At least that’s how it felt to her because she could barely breathe.
They all spoke at once.
‘He what?’ said Luca.
‘When did this happen?’ said Paolo.
‘I wondered why he wasn’t here tonight,’ said Sonia.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ said Grace.
Anna endured the onslaught with a tightness in her jaw and nausea swirling in her stomach. Five faces stared at her, the faces of the people she loved most in the world. She knew that telling them would break their hearts as it had done her own.
‘Anna,’ Nonna’s raspy voice held everyone’s attention. ‘A divorce?’ A supporting hand was on each of her shoulders. Her parents.
Anna lifted her wine glass and announced, with a quivering voice. ‘Yes. He says I’m not the kind of wife he wants and …’ She decided to tell them almost everything. ‘And he’s already been out there with plenty of other women trying to find a new one.’
There. She’d said it. It was done. The heartbreaking truth was out there and Anna felt the burden lift, as if a tumour had been excised from her skin.
‘No!’ Grace shouted.
‘The bastard!’ Luca growled.
‘I never liked him,’ Sonia murmured.
‘How could he do that to my daughter?’ Paolo said.
There wasn’t a dry eye around the table. It was real. There was to be no more keeping secrets from her family. Except one that involved a one-night stand and quite possible the best sex of her life.
She could finally breathe.
Looking around her, seeing the concern and love in their eyes, Anna wondered why she’d been so scared. Her fear had more to do with her than it did them. Up until now, she’d been the perfect first child, the daughter who sailed through school, blitzed university, married the perfect man and had the perfect job. Now she carried the scar of her first failure.
‘He’s a prick.’ Luca puffed up his chest and trained narrowed eyes on Anna. She knew he was upset if he was using language like that in front of Nonna. He looked like he might kill Alex if ever he ran into him again.
‘Well,’ Paolo announced with a fist firmly planted on the table. ‘He will never … ever … be welcome in this house again.’ Then there were some colourfully descriptive Italian swear words she recognised but barely ever heard from her father.
‘Thanks Dad. He’s not welcome in my house, either,’ Anna said.
Sonia hugged her daughter and Grace leapt up from the other side of the table and threw her arms around her big sister.
‘I wish you’d told me,’ Grace whispered. ‘I’ve been so worried about you.’
‘I’ll be all right. I will.’
‘Anna …’ was all her mother could manage, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Anna squeezed her hand. ‘I’m going to see about getting a divorce and making it final.’ Her family had stood by her. Of course they had. Why had she ever doubted their love? She didn’t know how she’d be able to cope if they hadn’t.
‘Get an Italian lawyer, Anna,’ her dad instructed. ‘Tony and Nita’s son, Vince. He’s a lawyer.’
‘Dad, he does insolvencies. I need a family lawyer.’
‘He’ll know someone. He’ll know someone Italian.’
‘Okay,’ Anna conceded. She didn’t have the energy to discuss it anymore. ‘So, let’s eat this Chinese, shall we? It smells delicious, Ma.’
Sonia stood abruptly, reached over and grabbed the handles of the wok. ‘No wonder you wanted pasta. What was I thinking? Give me ten minutes.’
CHAPTER
14
‘You could at least pretend you’re interested, grumpy guts.’ Lizzie whispered the admonition through narrowed lips as she elbowed her brother. He’d been trying really hard to summon up some enthusiasm for Ry and Julia’s honeymoon pictures.
With the mood Joe was in, he wanted to delete every bloody photo, so the best thing to do was simply to say nothing. Other people were entitled to their fun and their memories. He just didn’t want to think about honeymoons and weddings. Especially weddings.
‘Here, check out this shot of St Mark’s Square.’ Julia leaned over the coffee table and handed her iPad to Joe. He allowed a cursory glance before passing it right on to Lizzie, who was sitting next to him on the white leather sofa.
He had a grump on. So what if all the photos looked amazing. Julia and Ry had had an incredible month-long honeymoon. The problem was, Joe couldn’t let himself do any more thinking about anything Italian. Not its monuments. Its fashion. Its history. Its obsession with the world game. Its food. Because all of those things reminded him of one woman, one particularly sexy Italian-Australian woman.
One married Italian-Australian woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.
Joe been doing his best to play the part of polite house-sitter since Ry and Julia had arrived home two hours before. He’d grown quite fond of his spot on Ry and Julia’s sofa. It was a place he’d become rather familiar with in the three weeks they’d been away and he was grateful for the favour they’d done him. He’d asked the obligatory questions one asked travellers, polite enquiries regarding the flight, the weather, the service, weren’t they glad to be home, blah blah blah. So, when Lizzie and Dan had walked through the door thirty minutes ago, he found it almost too much to bear to have to listen to the whole conversation over again. It was already old news. Yesterday’s chip wrappers.
‘Doesn’t Rome look incredible?’ Lizzie swiped her finger over the iPad screen to reveal the next stunning scenic shot.
Joe noticed Dan hovering behind her, a beer in his hand. He leaned over, placing a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder.
‘We could go to Italy if you want to,’ he said quietly.
Lizzie looked up at Dan. Joe could see the light in her eyes. He wondered if it was the sights of Italy or the sight of her man that was causing it. Yep, it was definitely Dan.
‘Maybe. I’ll add it to the list.’
Joe knew they were planning an overseas trip of their own in a few months’ time during the southern hemisphere winter, when things slowed down in Middle Point and hotted up north of the equator. He was glad for Lizzie. With Dan’s love, she’d been able to overcome the terrible trauma of what had happened to her in London when she was a teenager, and make the brave decision to go back and have the adventure she’d been denied. Something had changed in her since she’d been with Dan, in a good way. It wasn’t just that she seemed happier. By revealing her secret she seemed, somehow, to have blossomed. After so many years in which Middle Point was the centre of her world, she was about to expand her horizons in a way he’d never thought she would. In all the years he was in Sydney, he’d never managed to convince her to come to see him, so he was so happy for her that she’d overcome her demons.
He tried to tell himself that it was all this happy couples stuff that had him thinking so cynically. All around him, everyone else in it was ridiculou
sly loved up and blissful. And he felt like a spare prick at a wedding. Irritable. Grumpy. Inexplicably thinking way too much about the woman who’d danced into his life one night and then disappeared. He needed to get laid, that’s what he needed. Another night of no-strings-attached sex. And he sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to get that in Middle Point.
He stood, left the lovebirds to their holiday stories, and paced over to the kitchen. Maybe a drink would help.
‘You should definitely go to Italy. You’d love it, Lizzie,’ Julia said. ‘Everywhere we turned there was another photo opportunity.’
‘And you clearly didn’t waste a single one,’ Dan said dryly.
Warm laughter echoed through the house but Joe felt detached from it, from the happiness that flowed around him. So he dawdled, pretending the contents of the fridge were a whole lot more interesting than they really were, before finally grabbing a beer and reluctantly rejoining the party.
‘Oh,’ Lizzie gasped, ‘Look at this food! Joe! Check this out!’ She flipped the device around. He tried not to look. The image filled the screen: three white plates, covered in crusty Italian bread, drizzled with glistening olive oil; strips of pink prosciutto and small green olives sat near pale yellow slices of cheese; a salad of shredded basil, snow-white mozzarella torn into shreds and lipstick-red tomatoes, juicy and shining. He’d always loved Italian food and suddenly he was hungry for it. Instead he averted his eyes and took a swig of his drink.
‘Don’t even say the word “food”,’ Julia groaned, flopping back onto the sofa and clutching her stomach. ‘I don’t think I need to eat for about three years. Every single morsel was spectacular, from breakfast to dinner and everything in between. Ry insisted on dragging me from one gourmet delight to the next. He was unstoppable.’
‘It was all in the name of research. I do own a pub, you know.’
Lizzie pointed to the photo. ‘Ry, please tell me we’re going to add this exact meal to the menu. I’m begging you.’
Ry laughed. ‘My first job Monday, as a matter of fact, is to show these photos to our chef. You should be in on that meeting, too.’
‘Try keeping me away,’ Lizzie grinned.
Julia nestled into the crook of Ry’s arm and yawned. ‘It’s not fair. My holiday is officially over. While you two will be discussing food, I have to drive up to Adelaide on Monday to meet a couple of potential clients. Apparently someone has a crisis that needs sorting. Lucky for me, huh? And sometime between now and then, I’ve got to unpack and get some sleep. Loads of sleep.’
Julia struggled to her feet and reached out for Ry’s hand. He stood and wrapped his new wife in his arms. His kiss to the top of her head was tender and loving. When he pulled back, he peered down into her eyes and a furrow creased his brow.
‘You actually do look exhausted, Jools.’
Julia yawned. ‘I wonder why that is. We’ve just flown from Rome to Adelaide and then spent an hour and a half in the car driving back to Middle Point. You’re lucky I can string two words together.’
Ry lifted his head to Joe and Lizzie. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for looking after the house, Joe. We appreciate it.’
‘It was nothing. You’ll be pleased to know your coffee machine survived.’
Ry shook his head and laughed. ‘If it didn’t, you wouldn’t have.’
‘And now I have to move back home with my little sister.’ Joe realised as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he sounded like a bit of a sad bastard. Which was exactly how he was feeling.
That earned another elbow from Lizzie. ‘Tell me about it, Stinkface.’
‘As much as I like the whole family reunion thing, I’ve gotta find somewhere else to live, Mosquito.’
Lizzie slapped his leg. ‘No need to go on about it. It’s not as if I’m there much anyway, so stop your whining.’
This time Joe elbowed his little sister in the side, which elicited a playful howl from her.
‘Hey, Julia?’ Joe stood.
‘Yeah?’ Another yawn crumpled her face.
‘Need someone to share the driving on Monday?’
‘Sure.’
The idea had just hit him that second. ‘I’ve been thinking of going up to Adelaide myself.’
‘I’m leaving at seven. On the dot. I’ll swing by and pick you up.’
‘It’s a deal.’
Joe had to get back in the saddle. And this was his chance.
CHAPTER
15
Anna had about sixty seconds between patients to process the fact that she’d just had to tell Mrs Matto that she should really see a gynaecologist about the abdominal pain she’d been experiencing, and to go to the loo. She’d been bursting since three patients ago, but it was a Monday morning and Monday mornings in the surgery were hell. Forty-eight hours of sniffles and colds and agonies suddenly became life-threatening emergencies come 9 a.m. and Anna and Grace were deluged.
She checked her watch and decided to make a run for it, only to be met by Grace who clamped her hands on Anna’s shoulders and pushed her sister back to her desk. Grace’s expression was all crinkled forehead and pursed lips.
‘What is it?’ Anna whispered through clenched teeth, in case anyone in the waiting room might hear her. ‘I’m busting. Sometimes a woman’s just gotta pee. I’m all for strengthening my pelvic floor, but if I have to hold on any longer you’ll need to get the mop.’
Grace glanced down at the floor and shuddered. ‘Hold that thought and hold on for just a second. There’s someone’s here to see you.’
‘What, like half of Adelaide isn’t out there already?’
‘No, someone else. She’s not on our books. And she doesn’t have an appointment. She just turned up.’
Anna crossed her legs. ‘God, Gracie, tell her we’re booked out. I haven’t been taking new patients in forever. We can barely keep up with the ones we’ve got.’ Anna blinked hard. And if I work any harder I’ll collapse from exhaustion.
‘I tried that already. She says she knows you.’
Anna hopped from one foot to the other. ‘What’s her name then?’
‘She told me to tell you she’s Julia from Middle Point.’
‘Julia. She’s the one from the wedding.’ Anna didn’t need a mirror to know that she was blushing. She felt the heat bloom up her neck and it pinked her cheeks, tingling the tops of her ears.
‘Tell her to grab a magazine and wait and I’ll squeeze her in, of course I will. But I’ll have to see all my other patients first. We can’t be having a riot in the waiting room.’
Grace played with an earring. ‘She’s not in the waiting room. She’s out back in the toilet, vomiting. She looks awful. Her husband almost had to carry her in and—’
That was all Anna had to hear. She bolted out of her room, past the reception area and into the back of the surgery to the toilet and bathroom.
Anna rapped her knuckles lightly on the door. ‘Julia? You okay? Can I come in?’
There was a groan, which Anna interpreted as a yes, and at the sound of the toilet flushing, she peeked her head around the door. Julia was on her knees, clutching the toilet bowl. Anna’s stilettos clickety-clicked on the pink 1960s speckled terrazzo floor as she walked over to her. She rested a consoling palm between Julia’s shoulder blades and rubbed in gentle circles.
‘Fancy meeting you here.’
Julia sucked in a heaving breath, held it, squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I’m so sorry to barge in like this. We don’t know any other doctors in Adelaide.’
Anna crouched next to her, pressed a hand to Julia’s forehead. It was clammy and her face was pale. Her deep breaths in and out were interspersed with more groans.
Anna figured Julia needed some distraction. ‘So, how was the honeymoon? What did you think of Italy?’
‘Adored it.’ She flopped her head back on to her forearm and her whole body seemed to melt against the toilet bowl. ‘How can you not love Italy, right?’
‘You’re telling m
e. So, what’s up with you?’ Anna nodded to the toilet.
Julia managed to half open her eyes. ‘This is not a hangover, I swear. It’s like a hangover but I haven’t had a drop to drink since Singapore. We stopped there on our way back. We only got back on the weekend.’
Anna found Julia’s wrist and her pulse. ‘And when did all this start, bella?’
‘About two hours ago. I was feeling fine and then I wasn’t. Wham.’
Anna reached up to the bathroom vanity and plucked a handful of tissues from a box. She handed them to Julia, who wiped her mouth gingerly.
‘Do you think you can get up?’
Julia gripped the bowl and leveraged herself to her feet. ‘Ta da,’ she smiled weakly.
Anna reached for her elbow and looked up into Julia’s eyes. ‘Let’s see if we can make it to my consulting room.’
Julia nodded weakly and a minute later the door was safely closed behind them. Anna helped Julia onto the examining table and Julia lay on her back, one arm crooked over her eyes, continuing to breathe in and out deeply.
‘Julia, I have an important question to ask you.’ Anna tried to hide her grin.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Have you, by any chance, been having unprotected sex with your husband?’
Julia’s eyes fluttered open and she pulled in a deep breath. ‘Yes. And a lot of it.’ A sly smile grew on her lips. ‘Who wouldn’t, right?’
Anna laughed. ‘So you know what having unprotected sex can lead to.’
Julia’s eyes widened.
‘Is there a chance you’re pregnant?’
‘I thought I might be. I hoped I might be. But I haven’t peed on the stick yet. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and we haven’t even told anyone we’re trying.’
Anna patted her shoulder. ‘Let’s be sure. Do you know how long it’s been since your last period?’
‘At least before the wedding. A couple of months ago?’
The wedding. This time, Anna felt another flush of heat flame her cheeks. Was every single thing in her life going to remind her of that night? She cleared her throat. ‘Come with me. I hope you’ve got a full bladder.’
Our Kind of Love Page 9
