Jack’s eyes were wide. ‘It’s messy,’ he announced.
Abby actually smiled. ‘It’s okay, hon. Mess is something we can fix.’
‘Will my tree house be messy, too?’
‘I wouldn’t think so.’
‘Can I go and see?’
‘Sure.’ Abby lifted Jack over the broken crockery, her own boots crunching through the shards as she carried him to the French doors beyond the dining table.
Tom noticed the garden now. A small area bordered by a thick green hedge. The clothesline was a rope tied to a tree at one end and a branch of the hedge at the other, propped up in the middle by a tall, forked branch of driftwood. There were Jack-sized clothes pegged on the line, along with towels and some very feminine underwear.
Deliberately averting his gaze as soon as he realised it had been snagged, Tom looked at the vegetable patch on the other side of the garden, which was clearly carefully tended. Jack was heading towards the hedge behind the vegetable patch, to one side of the gap cut into the tall hedge to leave an archway effect. The gap was filled by a wooden gate and a view of the beach and sea on the other side.
The sun was climbing higher into the sky now and the sea looked astonishingly blue. The garden had a shady area under the tree the clothesline was attached to and Tom noticed the old tractor tyre that had been filled with sand from the beach. A rather rusty toy digger and some plastic dinosaurs were arranged around the edge. Had Jack played in that when he’d been younger? Maybe while Abby had been tending the vegetable garden?
His voice felt curiously raw when he spoke. ‘This is an amazing spot,’ he said. ‘What a great place for a kid to grow up in.’
Abby turned slowly to meet his gaze but she didn’t respond immediately. There was a question in her eyes, as if she was waiting for him to say something more. Something about the disadvantages of growing up without a father, perhaps?
But Tom didn’t say anything like that. He held Abby’s gaze and then he smiled. ‘He’s a great kid, Abby. You must be very proud of him.’
She nodded slowly. She smiled but her lips wobbled. She opened her mouth as if she was about to speak but no words came out.
And Tom got that, too. Where could they start? With how he’d recognised himself in Jack so instantly when he’d said, ‘I was scared but now I liked it’? With whether they told Jack that he was his father before or after they talked about where they went from here?
‘There’s an awful lot we need to talk about,’ he said into the silence. ‘But right now we’re both beyond exhausted and we need time, and I think you’ve got enough on your plate.’ He let his gaze sweep the domestic devastation around their feet.
Abby’s breath came out in a big whoosh as though she’d been holding it.
‘Thanks,’ she whispered.
‘What can I do to help?’
Abby shook her head. ‘I think I need to get some sleep. I’m sure Jack does, too. Then I’ll do a bit of tidying up and find out what’s happening at work. Whether I’m needed there.’
‘Have you got food in the house? Is your water working?’
‘I’ll check.’ Abby’s feet crunched again as she moved to the kitchen bench. She turned on the tap and nodded. ‘It looks fine.’
‘Power?’
‘I’ve got a generator in the shed.’
‘Let’s check that.’
The generator appeared to be undamaged. Abby started to walk back to the house in front of Tom but then stopped and turned to face him.
‘Tom...I haven’t said thank you. Not properly. I...I don’t know how...’
Her eyes looked huge. And were such a dark blue that Tom knew these words were coming straight from her heart. He had to swallow around the lump in his throat.
‘There’s no need,’ he said gruffly.
‘There is.’ He could see the muscles move in Abby’s throat as she swallowed hard. ‘I know how dangerous it was to rescue Jack and I know that if it hadn’t been you there, it probably wouldn’t have happened, and...and I just want you to know how much that means to me. Jack’s...he’s my whole life...’
‘It was you that rescued him, Abby.’
‘I couldn’t have done it by myself.’ Abby gave a huge sniff and offered him a wry smile. ‘And you know something else?’
‘What?’
‘I think I kind of get why you do what you do, now. It’s pretty amazing, doing something that dangerous and saving a life.’
‘Mmm...’ Tom couldn’t identify the emotion welling up inside him. Pride that Abby respected what he did for a living? Or was it relief that they were connecting on this level?
Hope for something he couldn’t define yet? Some kind of future?
‘It’s kind of like a drug, isn’t it? That feeling when you know you’ve succeeded?’
‘Yeah...it is.’
‘I wonder if that’s how my parents felt when they’d conquered a mountain. If they got addicted to that adrenaline rush and the euphoria that would have come after it when they knew they’d survived.’
Tom opened his mouth. He wanted to tell Abby that she might have learned what drove him, but this experience had taught him something much bigger. That what was important in life wasn’t the adrenaline rush or the euphoria but the connection between people. The kind of connection he’d felt when he’d seen Abby holding Jack outside the mine.
He’d just experienced an echo of that extraordinarily powerful feeling when Abby had been telling him she understood why his job was so important to him.
But he couldn’t tell her any of that. Because she might push him away? Yes. The risk was too big to take because he’d not only lose her this time, he’d lose Jack as well.
But he had to say something.
‘They got it wrong,’ he said softly. ‘You didn’t just lose your parents. They lost you. And they’ll never meet their grandchild.’
Abby blinked, her eyes going misty as she absorbed his words. For just a moment they were caught and Tom knew she understood that he was trying to tell her how much he cared.
And it felt...like the pieces of something broken were fitting themselves back together. As if a magic spell had been cast and Abby would open her mouth and say something that would provide the glue to hold those pieces in place.
She did open her mouth.
‘Tom...I...’
‘Tom...’ Jack’s face appeared through the branches of the hedge. ‘Come and see. It’s not messy in here.’
‘I’m coming, buddy.’ But Tom couldn’t move just yet. He searched Abby’s face and held his breath, waiting for her to finish whatever it was she’d been about to say.
But the spell had been broken. A second ticked past, feeling like much, much longer. And then another one.
And then Jack was right beside them, impatient to show Tom his tree house. Tugging on his hand.
‘Come and see,’ he implored. ‘You promised.’
Tom was too big to crawl right inside the small space but he could fit in far enough to admire the dim cavern created by the twisted trunks and branches overhead and the carpet of long-dead needle leaves on the ground. There were more plastic dinosaurs in here. A tiny, wooden child’s chair. And a shoebox.
‘That’s Action Man’s bed,’ Jack told him. ‘For when he’s tired.’
‘I’ll bet he’s tired now after the big adventure you guys have just had.’
‘Mmm.’ Jack’s face twisted into a gigantic yawn at the mere mention of being tired.
‘Might be time that you and Action Man and Mum all had a bit of a nap in the house. Shall we go and see what Mum’s doing?’
‘Okay.’ Jack wriggled back out of his cubby hole. He still had Action Man clutched in his hand. ‘He wasn’t scared, you know. When he got buried in the mine.’
>
‘Not even a little bit?’
Jack thought about this. ‘Maybe a little bit,’ he admitted. His big brown eyes were worried, though. Was he admitting some kind of failure?
Tom bent down so he could talk very quietly. Man to man.
‘It’s okay to be scared, Jack. Everybody gets scared sometimes.’
‘Even if you’re brave?’
‘Especially when you’re brave. You can only be brave if you get scared.’
Jack was frowning hard. Trying to understand.
‘If you’re not scared then there’s nothing you need to be brave about, is there?’
‘No-o-o...’ Jack bit his lip but then his face lit up. He understood. He took a deep breath. ‘I was really, really scared,’ he whispered. ‘When I was all by myself in the big hole.’
Tom nodded solemnly. ‘That’s how I know that you’re really, really brave.’
Jack’s little chest puffed out with pride but his face was very serious. ‘Were you scared, too?’
‘Oh, yeah...’
Jack nodded, satisfied. And then he nodded again as if coming to a decision. ‘We won’t tell Mummy we were scared, eh?’
‘Nah...I reckon it can be our secret.’
This time they shared a smile. And then they started walking back to the house.
‘I could tell you another secret,’ Jack offered.
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, Nathan at school’s got a tree house, too, only his is really in a tree. You have to climb a ladder to get into it. He says he built it all by himself but it’s not true. His dad built it.’
‘Dads like doing that kind of stuff. And Nathan might have helped a lot.’
‘I guess.’ Jack was silent for a moment. They had reached the French doors of the cottage by the time he spoke again. ‘I haven’t got a dad,’ he said.
Abby was picking up pieces of broken glass and putting them into a cardboard box. The piece she was holding dropped with a clatter as she heard Jack’s words and then she froze, crouched on the floor in front of them.
‘I’d really like to have one,’ Jack continued. His tone was light. Conversational almost. He was looking up at Tom. ‘D’ya think you could maybe be my dad?’
Oh, man... Here it was, being offered to him as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to step into his son’s life. Except, of course, it wouldn’t be.
Abby shot to her feet. There was a look of utter panic in her face as she turned.
‘Tom lives in Auckland, Jack. It’s a long way away from here.’
Something huge welled up inside Tom at the prospect of being dismissed like this, but he kept his tone as light as Jack’s had been.
‘It’s not that far.’
‘Far enough.’ Abby’s words sounded choked. She was staring at him. Warning him not to go any further down this track. Not yet.
Maybe not ever?
They were too far apart for this but it had nothing to do with the physical distance between their homes. That factor paled into insignificance compared to what Abby was really talking about—the emotional distance between them.
For now, Tom knew he had no choice. He had to respect that. Even if it was killing him.
Abby was still staring at him in horror.
Jack was staring at him, too, looking hopeful.
Tom was spared having to find an answer for either of them by his radio crackling into life.
‘Tank? You there, mate? Do you read?’
He unclipped the radio and pressed the button. ‘Loud and clear, Moz. What’s up?’
‘We’re good to go. Someone’s on the way to collect you and bring you up to the helipad. Should be a vehicle just about there.’
Sure enough, a car’s horn could be heard tooting outside.
‘Roger that,’ Tom said. ‘On my way.’
He reattached his radio. Jack was looking impressed. He’d totally forgotten the question he’d asked and Tom wasn’t about to remind him.
‘I’ve got to go, buddy.’ He ruffled Jack’s hair. ‘But I’ll see you soon, okay?’
Abby followed him out of the front door and down the path. ‘Why did you say that? He’ll be asking me every day now, waiting for you to come back.’
Tom stopped walking just before he reached the waiting vehicle and turned to face Abby. It was important that she heard every word.
‘I said it because it’s true. I will be back. As soon as I can arrange something.’
Abby sucked in a breath but he didn’t give her time to say anything.
‘I intend to be part of Jack’s life from now on,’ he told her. ‘I’m not sure how it’s going to work but there’s no way I’m walking away from my son.’
Or you, he wanted to add. Not this time.
He managed to hold those words back. Abby had enough to process in coming to terms with the fact that her son now had a father in his life.
‘Bye, Abby.’ The urge to reach out and pull Abby close was overwhelming. Almost as great as it had been when he’d pulled her through the gap in the sinkhole. But it wasn’t the same. She and Jack were both safe, now. In their own home. There was no reason to pull her close and hold her tight. To wish for even an accidental kiss.
He couldn’t even hug her like a good friend saying goodbye. The depth of emotion she was clearly coping with herself, judging by the darkness of her eyes and the tight way her lips were pressed together, was screaming a warning that it would not be a good idea.
He had to touch her, though. It was just his hand that he reached out. Just his thumb that he used to brush her cheek with a feather-like stroke.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ he promised.
And then he had to get into the vehicle and be driven away from the beach-side cottage. In a very short space of time he would be in a helicopter, being flown away from Kaimotu Island.
He’d never been here before. He’d been here for less than a full day.
How on earth could it feel like this?
Like he was ripping out his heart and leaving it behind?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE FUNERAL FOR Squid Davies was held three days after the big quake, and the small chapel was stuffed to the gills and overflowing outside with almost every adult islander. Everybody had loved Squid—the indomitable old fisherman who had been an island icon for as long as anybody could remember.
Abby was sitting in a back pew beside Ben’s father, Doug McMahon. Ailsa sat on his other side and she had Ginny beside her. Ginny had her eyes fixed on Ben as he moved to the front of the chapel to give the eulogy. Ben was still using a cane to help him walk, thanks to the injuries he’d suffered only a week ago after rescuing Henry from under a piano. He was only just out of hospital and he looked very pale.
The look on Ginny’s face advertised something more than concern for his physical wellbeing, however. There was something on the young doctor’s face that struck a very poignant chord with Abby.
She loves him, she thought. So much that she can’t imagine her life without Ben in it.
Abby knew what that kind of love was like. How it could make your life unbelievably wonderful. How it could come so close to destroying it when things went wrong.
Like they’d gone wrong for her and Tom.
‘Squid asked me to speak today, and everyone here knows Squid,’ Ben began. ‘He liked to predict what happens so he made sure he wrote this before the earthquake, just in case, telling me what to say.’
A ripple of laughter echoed in the space but Abby didn’t join in.
She wished someone was around to predict what was going to happen for her.
Tom was coming back.
And the prospect was deeply disturbing.
For the last few days
Abby had been doing what everybody on the island was doing right now: trying to get her life back to some semblance of normality. Thinking about Tom coming back made it seem impossible. Nothing was ever going to be ‘normal’ again.
Ben’s quiet words from Squid about his health issues and how nobody had listened to his predictions flowed over her head. He absolved everyone from blame in the end, saying that nobody really knew anything, you could only guess about what the future held.
* * *
Despite Abby’s penchant for guessing the worst possible scenarios, somewhere between Squid’s funeral and school reopening a few days later, she realised that thinking about Tom coming back was giving her a small thrill every time it happened. A curl of sensation that flickered somewhere deep in her belly.
She recognised that sensation. From way back, when she’d first noticed Tom in his rescue overalls, delivering a critically ill patient to the emergency department in which she’d been working. It had begun to happen whenever she’d heard the swishing sound of the automatic doors to the ambulance bay opening. Or caught a flash of red clothing amongst the emergency services personnel. It had been the thrill of anticipation laced with attraction.
Desire, laced with hope.
In some form, Tom intended to come back into her life. Did it matter that he was only coming back because of Jack?
Well...yes and no.
No, because otherwise he might not have chosen to come back at all.
But yes, because Abby would never know if he might have wanted to see her again if Jack didn’t exist.
Abby knew perfectly well she could be setting herself up for renewed heartbreak if she allowed hope to bloom. And what if they did rekindle something? Just because she had new insight into the extraordinary satisfaction that could come from putting your own life on the line to save another, it didn’t mean that she was prepared to let her son risk the devastation that could come from loving a father who had that kind of addiction.
But any choice in the matter had been taken out of her hands the moment she’d confirmed Jack’s paternity, hadn’t it? She couldn’t protect Jack now. He had the right to know who his father was and to have a relationship with him. Tom had had those rights for even longer and Abby knew she’d been wrong in keeping her secret. Tom had every right to be furious with her.
MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND/ALWAYS THE HERO Page 27
