by Billie Rae
Scott bent and kissed her once more and they moved closer. Lorraine felt she couldn’t get close enough to him. His strong arms held her body next to his, pulling her even closer still. His lips travelled down her neck, tasting the creamy skin of her throat. She let her hands wind into his tousled hair.
“Scotty, telephone,” someone yelled through the open window.
“Damn,” Scott murmured as he put his head up and looked into Lorraine’s eyes.
She gave a warm smile. “I won’t run away.”
He laughed as he turned away.
He returned a few moments later, a worried expression masking his handsome face.
“Feel like taking a ride?” he asked, his jacket slung lazily over one shoulder.
“Sure.” Lorraine knew, given the expression on his face, that it was best not to ask any questions. She just knew she wanted to be with him.
Lorraine followed Scott around the side of the house to the car.
He drove swiftly without speaking a word, for nearly ten minutes, until he pulled into a small driveway, outside a yellow brick house.
He jumped out of the car and came around to open the door for her before she had a chance to do so herself. She followed him obediently.
He pulled a small key out of his jacket pocket and let himself into the house. “It’s only me, Tracey,” he yelled down the hallway.
“I’m in the kitchen,” a sweet voice called.
Lorraine could hear a baby crying from one of the rooms, and a dog barked his discontent from the back yard.
Scott took her hand firmly in his and walked down the hall to the kitchen.
Tracey? Lorraine was confused. Why would Scott take her to the house of one of his girlfriends? Her mind told her instantly that he wouldn’t. So, had she been off the mark about who Tracey was?
The young woman sitting at the table looked dreadful. She would have been pretty if not for the welted cut across one cheek and a large purple bruise which had forced one eye half closed. Her long ash-blonde hair fell about her face and into a tangle on her shoulders, and she looked at Scott with the same brown eyes now inspecting her damaged face.
Tracey was his sister. There was no mistaking it.
Tracey smiled at Scott, even as she held a cold, wet flannel up to her face.
“It was the worst it’s ever been,” she said. “He got really violent and threatened to hit Toby if I wouldn’t make him shut up. Then I went to get the baby and he just lashed out at me.”
“Why did he go?” Scott asked, his forehead furrowed in obvious anger. He let go of Lorraine and walked to his sister’s side.
“I made it to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. That’s how I got this.” She touched the lash down the side of her face.
“And then he left?” Scott asked.
Tracey nodded slowly, her gaze moving to Lorraine where she stood by the door.
“This is Lorraine,” Scott said. “She’s down with Donna.”
“Hi, Lorraine.” Tracey flashed a smile.
“Hi,” Lorraine said.
The baby began to cry again down the hall, and Tracey motioned to get up.
“Stay there,” Scott said, laying his hand on Tracey’s shoulder. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll go,” Lorraine offered. Before either of them could answer, she turned and followed the noise down the hallway to a dark room.
A cot stood in one corner, covered with colourful blankets and small soft toys.
Lorraine lifted the infant into her arms and cradled the soft blue bundle. He had bright blue eyes and clear pale skin. He smelt like baby shampoo and tears. Lorraine guessed he was only about six months old. Tears stained his reddened cheeks.
When he stopped crying, she found a nappy and laid him on the table, changing him quickly and dressing him again. He gurgled at her in the semi darkness, moving his mouth over his fingers and making sucking noises.
“You’re beautiful, aren’t you?” she said in her best mother tongue.
He rewarded her with a lopsided smile.
She lifted him once again into her arms and carried him back to the kitchen. He squeezed his eyes closed under the bright light and buried his head in her shoulder.
“I think he’s hungry,” she said to Tracey.
Scott moved to the microwave and pulled out a small bottle filled with milk. As he passed it to Lorraine, their hands met around the warm plastic and Lorraine looked up into his soft brown eyes.
Toby began to protest again, so Lorraine pulled away quickly, taking a seat next to Tracey to give him his bottle.
She watched the baby as he drank, little bubbles of air making soft noises as Toby suckled. She tried not to look at Scott, who spoke to his sister in soft tones. She felt like an intruder. But on the inside, she felt relief. The other night she had thought Tracey was a love interest. To find out that she was Scott’s sister put him in a different light.
And not only that, but he had wanted her to come with him; to share this moment that he knew would be drama in his life.
Poor Tracey.
Lorraine stole a glance at the pair. No matter what this was they had, or whether it was just a holiday fling, it wasn’t important anymore. Scott would never use or abuse her. She knew it by the way he touched Tracey’s face and by the concern so obviously etched on his features.
If she just had this one moment with Scott, or these next few days, she would make the most of it. If this was destined to be a summer fling, she would just relax and enjoy it.
Chapter Four
The next few days were very enjoyable for the two girls.
Scott and Tony took them ice skating, to the movies, to the beach, into town, ten pin bowling, and when it came time for them to go home, Lorraine accepted the fact that she had seen the last of Scott Travers.
The words that Tony had spoken rang clearly through her mind.
Scotty hasn’t got a girlfriend. He doesn’t believe in them. But if you treat him nicely he’ll give you a bloody good time while you’re in Christchurch.
So there was nothing else she could do but face up to the fact that Scott wasn’t interested in her. At least not the way she was interested in him. He knew she was only there for a little while, and she guessed that had been the attraction. It was nice while it lasted, but they both came from different worlds and soon enough it was time to go back to where she belonged.
* * * *
School held no interest for Lorraine anymore and she was determined to leave, despite the fact her father didn’t approve.
“Dad, I’m eighteen. There’s a job going in town for secretarial work. I think I’d like to apply for it.”
“What about your plans to do social work?” he asked over the newspaper he had been so intent on reading.
She shrugged. “I can always take that up later if I still want to. There’s no age limit for training you know.”
“I don’t want you to rush into anything,” her father warned. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you shouldn’t get in the way when a woman’s determined to do something.” He grinned. “If it’s something you want, then go ahead and arrange an interview and we’ll see what happens.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Lorraine kissed her father before running upstairs to telephone for an interview.
She dressed carefully on Monday morning, taking care to look her best.
A caramel dress with a black stretch belt and black high heels completed her ensemble. She didn’t put on too much makeup, rather just enough to make her look respectable.
Her father drove her into town.
“Good luck,” he said, kissing her softly on the cheek.
The interview went well and that night, she rang Donna.
“I got the job!” she said.
“Well done,” Donna said, her voice ringing with obvious pleasure. “When do you start?”
“Next week. God, I can’t wait.”
“I guess you’ll be sticking around in Blenheim for
a while then.”
Lorraine frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving,” Donna blurted.
“School?” Lorraine asked. She had no idea that Donna had been considering leaving school as well.
“And Blenheim.”
Lorraine sat up on her bed. “Why?”
“Tony wants me to go and live with him.”
Lorraine tried to hide the disappointment from her voice. “That’s great, Donna. What will you do for a job?”
“I don’t know,” Donna said. “I think I’ll just go on the dole.”
Lorraine felt angry that Donna would say such a thing. How could she be so blazé about not having a job to go to? Donna had brains, but she was also lazy. Tony was the same. He had a good job in a factory but could easily get a job with higher qualifications if he put his mind to it.
“Donna, I have to go,” she said. “Will you keep in touch?”
“Of course.”
Lorraine put down the phone and stared bitterly at the wall. Her thoughts turned to Scott. Whenever someone mentioned Christchurch his name immediately sprung to her lips and she would see his smiling face that day they had been at the beach. All he had worn was a pair of black shorts as he lazed around in the sun, getting more and more tanned. She remembered his warm, strong arms as he carried her, screaming and thrashing, into the waves, then his smiling face as he watched her break the surface of the water. But when two girls walked up the beach wearing skimpy bikinis he raved on about them for the rest of the day. It was clear that she hadn’t even burned that much of an impression on the tall, handsome man if he couldn’t even keep his focus on her for more than a few hours.
Despite that, Lorraine knew she would not forget Scott for a long time, and even then she would still recall what it felt like to be in his arms.
* * * *
“Here’s some more files for you to type up, Lorraine,” Mr McKay said as he approached her desk in the front office where she worked.
“Thanks.” She looked up from her work and smiled at her boss. “When do you want them done by?”
“There’s no rush. Just leave them on my desk when you’ve finished. I’m going to be out for a while.”
“Okay.” Lorraine bent her head to her work once more, continuing to fill in application forms.
It had been three months since she’d started her new job and she was enjoying it more every day.
Soon Molly buzzed up from the downstairs foyer.
“Yes, Molly?” Lorraine asked.
“There’s a man here who wants to come up to Mister McKay’s office,” Molly said.
“Can you please tell him that Mister McKay is out. Does he have an appointment?”
“No, but he insists on being allowed up.”
“Tell him to come back in a few hours. Can you please make an appointment for him for two o’clock?”
“Okay.”
Lorraine let the intercom button go and returned to her work.
Half an hour later the phone interrupted her train of thought once more.
“Hello?” she said as she continued writing.
“Is Miss Lorraine Shasky there please?”
“Yes, speaking,” she answered.
“Is your father Mark Shasky?”
“Yes.”
“This is the Wairau hospital, Miss Shasky, we have your father here—”
Lorraine dropped her pen on the desk. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“There was an explosion at his work a few hours ago. He’s been badly burned.”
“How bad?” Lorraine felt the tears prick her eyes. Her father was all she had left. She couldn’t lose him. They’d become a little distant since she’d come back from Christchurch and she instantly regretted it. What if she lost him?
The nurse’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Could you come down and we’ll talk about it then?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Lorraine put down the phone and buzzed down to Molly. “Can you please call me a taxi, Molly? And please let Mister McKay know I’ve gone to the hospital.”
“Is everything okay,” concern rang in the woman’s voice.
“I’m not sure yet.”
Lorraine grabbed her coat and her handbag and walked hurriedly downstairs. She quickly filled Molly in on everything she knew before the taxi arrived.
Once at the hospital she found out where her father was, then went to find him.
The tears she had been fighting burst their dam when she saw him, lying back on several pillows, bandages wrapped around his body from the waist down. His eyes were closed but she could tell he was awake by the tense look of pain creasing his face. A monitor beeped softly behind his bed and a drip ran from his arm.
“Dad,” she said softly.
His eyes opened and he attempted to smile, holding his hand out to her.
She took it carefully as she sat down beside him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Not so bad now,” he croaked. “They’ve given me a whole cocktail of medication. The first hour was the worst.” He tried to sound cheerful, but Lorraine thought with a grimace that he was making a terrible job of it.
“Not so good, huh?”
Mark smiled. “You read me like a book.”
“It’s burns, Dad. You’re bandaged from the waist down. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re going to be in here for a while.”
“You’d need to ask the doctors. At the moment they’re not telling me much.”
So Lorraine went to find a doctor.
“The truth of the matter is,” started the attending doctor, “we’re not sure ourselves yet. We don’t even know if he’ll walk again. It’s very touch and go at the moment, but they got to him quickly and did all the right things, so you never know. We’ll know more in a few days.”
Lorraine felt the tears behind her eyes. “You mean he could be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life?”
“We just don’t know. He’s damaged a lot of tissue in his legs which may not be repairable.”
“If it’s that bad, why isn’t he in a lot of pain?”
“Nerve damage and the wonder of modern medicine,” the doctor said rather too briskly for Lorraine’s liking.
Chapter Five
That night Lorraine spent her time sitting in the lounge thinking about her father.
What would happen if he couldn’t walk again? They would have to sell the house, for he would no longer be able to manage the stairs. He would most definitely have to leave his job. She guessed ACC would cover his living while he was unable to work, but it would be minimal, and Lorraine didn’t earn enough to support both of them.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen.
She got up and went to answer it.
The cat wrapped itself around her legs and she scooped him up into her arms, pleased to have the comfort of another living being.
“Hello?” She assumed it would be the hospital. Not many people phoned the house now that she had left school and Donna had moved back to Christchurch.
“Is Lorraine there please?”
Lorraine’s fingers shook as Scott’s rich voice echoed through her mind.
“Scott?”
“Hi.” He sounded just as pleased to hear her voice as she was to hear his.
“Where are you calling from?” Lorraine asked.
“America,” Scott said playfully. “I’m in Blenheim, silly.”
“When did you arrive?”
“Late last night. I came to see you at the office today, but—”
“Oh, God, that was you?” Lorraine laughed. “Why didn’t you say who you were?”
“I wanted to surprise you. I came back at two o’clock but they told me you had gone to the hospital. Is everything okay?”
She had momentarily forgotten about her father in her shock over hearing Scott’s voice. She bit her lip and fought back the tears.
“
Lorraine?”
“Y-yes, my father’s in hospital,” with the words came the tears and Lorraine sobbed. “There was…an accident at his work this morning…he was burned…badly.” She sniffed, put down the cat and wiped at her face helplessly. “The doctors say he might not walk again.”
“Shit, Lorraine, I’m sorry. Is there anybody with you?”
“No.”
“You shouldn’t be alone if you’re upset,” Scott said.
She thought about his big, welcoming arms and the way he felt next to her and she realised how much she had missed him.
“Scott?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
When he arrived, Lorraine went quickly to the door. They stood awkwardly in front of each other for a few moments before Lorraine crumpled thankfully into his arms, the tears falling freely from her eyes. He felt very warm and comforting and Lorraine was glad he was there with her, even if she did look a mess.
“I bet you haven’t cried all day,” Scott said as he pulled her hair from her face and placed it over her shoulder.
She shook her head against his warm body. “It didn’t really sink in until you asked me about it. My God, he may never walk again.” She glanced up into his coffee coloured eyes.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll make you a hot drink.”
She led him through to the kitchen then sat down at the table to watch him. He was even more attractive than she remembered him. It seemed strange to see him standing in their kitchen. His hair fell over his forehead as if it had been placed there strand by strand, and his eyes were deeper and warmer than ever.
“How’s Tracey?” she asked, not taking her eyes off him.
“She’s fine now. She pressed charges against Joseph and he’s in a rehab centre.” He smiled. “She asks about you.”
“Me?”
“You were a great help that night. She’s very thankful.”
Lorraine bent her head and stared into the palms of her hands.
