by Miranda Lee
'I don't know. Shopping, perhaps. Or back to the hospital.'
'I don't want to ever go near that hospital ever again.' And she started to weep again.
'Oh, Rachel, please don't cry. You'll make me cry.' Isabel's chin was already beginning to quiver.
'S...sorry,' Rachel blubbered. 'Sorry.'
Isabel swallowed. 'Don't be sorry. Don't you ever be sorry. I'll try to get a flight back today. At worst, it will be tomorrow. Meanwhile, you do just what Mum tells you to do. She'll bombard you with cups of sweet tea and plate-loads of home-made lamingtons but don't say no. You could do with fattening up a bit. Do you realise you've lost most of those fantastic boobs of yours? You know, I used to be jealous of those at school. You've no idea. But they'll bounce back. And so will you, love. Trust me on that.'
'I knew I was right to ring you,' Rachel said with a not so distressed-sounding sigh.
'If you hadn't, I'd have been very annoyed. Now, I must go. Loads to do. See you soon, sweetie. Take care.'
Isabel hung up with a weary sigh. Rachel was right about one thing. Her mother was not going to be pleased with her little deception over this holiday.
But that was just too bad. Squaring her shoulders, Isabel swept the receiver up again, and asked Reception for an outside line.
'I gather the honeymoon's over.'
Isabel spun round to find Rafe standing in the doorway.
'How much did you hear?'
'All of it.'
'Then you know I have to go home. You can stay for the rest of the fortnight if you want to.'
He stared at her as though she were mad. 'Now, why would I want to do that? Without you here with me, Isabel, it would just be a waste of time. No, I'll be coming back to Sydney with you. If you find there aren't any available seats going back this afternoon, you could have Reception offer the rest of this pre-paid jaunt to all the couples on the island whose holiday ends today. Someone is sure to take you up on it.'
"That's an excellent idea, Rafe. Thank you.'
'I am good for some things besides sex, you know.'
Isabel frowned at the slightly bitter edge in his voice. What had got into him? Did he think she was happy about having to leave?
'Look, I'm sorry, Rafe. I hardly planned this. I'd rather be staying here with you than going back home to a heartbroken friend. But fate has decided otherwise. Rachel needs me and she needs me now. I'm not going to let her down.'
'I appreciate that. Honest I do. I admire people who are there for their friends when they're needed. I guess that's the crux of my discontent. The fact you didn't consider I'd be there for you during the next few undeniably difficult days. You just dismissed me like some hired gigolo whose services were no longer required. I thought we'd moved beyond that. I thought you genuinely liked me.'
'I...I do like you. But what we've had together here... We both knew it was just a fantasy trip, Rafe. It's been fantastic but it's not real life. Come on the plane with me by all means, but once we get back to Sydney I think we should go our separate ways.'
'Do you, now?' he bit out. 'Well, I don't.'
'You don't?'
'No. As far as what we've had here... Yes, it has been fantastic, but I think we can have something better once we get back to Sydney. And we can be good friends as well.'
'But...'
'But nothing. You like me. I like you. A lot. On top of that, we are very sexually compatible. Face it, Isabel, you're not the sort of woman who's ever going to live the life of a nun. You like sex far too much. So don't look a gift-horse in the mouth. Where else are you going to find a man who's prepared to be your friend as well as your lover? A man, moreover, who knows how to turn you on just like that.' And he snapped his fingers. 'You'll go a long way before you come across that combination again.'
He was right, of course. He was ideal.
Too ideal. She was sure to fall hopelessly in love with him. Sure to. But she hadn't as yet. She could still walk away.
But then she thought of what Rachel had said about being so lonely that she'd sleep with anyone, and she knew she wouldn't be able to walk away for ever. One night, when she was alone in that town house at Turramurra, she'd pick up the phone and call Rafe and ask him to come over.
Take what he's offering you now, came the voice of temptation. And if you fall in love with him?
She would cross that bridge when she came to it.
'So you want to be my day-time friend and night-time lover, is that it?'
'No. I want to be your friend and lover all the time. I see no reason to relegate our sex life just to night.'
An erotic quiver rippled down her spine. She didn't stand a chance of resisting this man. Why damage her pride by trying? But that same pride insisted she keep some control over the relationship. She could do that, surely.
'You're so right, Rafe,' she said, adopting what she hoped was a suitably firm woman-in-control expression. "Things have worked out between us far better than I ever imagined they would. You're exactly what I need in my life. But please don't presume that my agreeing to continue with our relationship gives you any rights to tell me how to ran my life. I know you don't agree with my decision to have a baby on my own, but I aim to do just that, and nothing and no one is going to stop me!'
CHAPTER TWELVE
RAFE sat silently beside Isabel on the flight to Sydney late that afternoon, planning and plotting his next move.
He'd been furious with fate at first for interrupting them. But, in the end, things hadn't worked out too badly. Isabel had at least agreed to go on seeing him. As for her declaration that nothing and no one was going to stop her from having a baby...little did she know but he was her best ally in that quest. He hoped to have her pregnant well before she got round to doing that artificial insemination rubbish.
The captain announcing that they'd begun their descent into Sydney had Isabel turning towards him for the first time in ages.
'I'll drop you off on the way home,' she said.
'Fine. What about tomorrow?'
'What about tomorrow?'
'Will you be needing me?'
She stared at him. 'I thought you said you didn't like my treating you like some gigolo,' she said agitatedly. "That was a rather gigolo-sounding question.'
'I meant as a friend, Isabel,' he reproved, thinking to himself he had a long way to go to get her trust. That bastard Hal had a lot to answer for.
'Oh. Sony. I'm not used to men just wanting to be my friend.'
'I thought you said you were friends with Luke first.'
'Yes, well, Luke was the exception to the rule.'
'St Luke,' he muttered.
'Not quite, as it turned out.'
'No. So what about tomorrow?'
She sighed. 'I think I should spend tomorrow with Rachel.'
Rafe had no option but to accept her decision. Which meant if she hadn't conceived this month he'd have to wait till her next cycle before trying again.
Still, he admired Isabel for the way she'd dropped everything and raced to this Rachel's side. There weren't too many people these days who would have done that. He liked to think he was a good friend, but he suspected he'd become somewhat selfish and self-centred during his post-Liz years, another result of his bruised male ego which he wasn't proud of.
'What about the next day?' he asked.
'The funeral's then.'
'I'll take you.'
'No.'
'Yes. I'm not going to let you hide me away like some nasty secret, Isabel. Your mother already knows you went off to Dream Island with a man. I heard you tell her on the phone. I also gather you took quite a bit of flak about it. I didn't like that. In fact, I wanted to snatch that phone right out of your hand and tell your mother the truth.'
"The...the truth?'
'Yes. You are not cheap or easy, which I gather was the gist of her insults. You are one classy lady and I'm one lucky guy to be having a relationship with you. You're also a terrific friend and, I'll warrant, a
terrific daughter. Someone should tell your mum that some day, and that someone just might be me.'
"That's sweet of you, Rafe, but you'd be wasting your time. Mum suffers from a double generation gap. She's still living back in the fifties and simply can't come to terms with the fact I'd go away with you like that so soon after meeting you. She was not only shocked, but ashamed.'
'Sounds like she suffers from double standards as well,' Rafe pointed out irritably. 'I'll bet she wasn't shocked when she found out your precious ex-fiancé leapt into bed with his new dolly-bird less than an hour after meeting her. And I'll bet she thought that was perfectly all right!'
'No. No, I don't think she thought that at all. It's hard for her to accept modern ways, Rafe. She's seventy years old.'
'That's no excuse.'
'No, but it's a reason. She'll calm down eventually. Meanwhile, I think it's best not to throw you in her face.'
'Isabel,' he said firmly, ''you are thirty years old. Way past the age of adulthood. You say you're going to live your life as you see fit. Well that should include in front of your mother.'
'That's all very well for you to say. You don't practise what you preach. You told me you lie to your mother all the time. You even pretend you're going to get married some day when you know very well that you're not.'
'That's all in the past. I'm going to be honest with her in future.' No trouble, Rafe thought. Because he was going to get married now. To Isabel.
'Yeah, right. Pity I won't be there to see the new-leaf Rafe.'
You will be. Don't you worry about that.
Tm coming with you to that funeral, Isabel. And that's that!"
Isabel glared at him. The man simply couldn't be told!
'Be it on your head then,' she snapped. 'And don't say I didn't warn you.'
By five o-clock on the day of the funeral, Rafe almost wished he'd heeded her warning. The service was over and they were back at Isabel's parents' place for the wake, and he was looking for a place to hide.
Unfortunately, there weren't too many people for Rafe to hide behind. It had been a very small funeral. Isabel and Rachel, whom Rafe had warmed to on first meeting today, had been cornered by some large woman, leaving Rafe to fend for himself.
The chill coming his way from Mrs Hunt was becoming hard to take, so were the disapproving looks at his earring. Goodness knew what would have been the woman's reaction if he hadn't shaved that morning. Or put on his one and only dark and thankfully conservatively styled suit.
Rafe valiantly ignored the dagger-like glances he was getting from his hostess as he filled his plate from the buffet set out in the lounge room. After checking that Isabel and Rachel were still occupied in the corner, he headed out to the front porch, where he'd seen a seat on the way in, and where he hoped to eat his food in peace, without having to tolerate Mrs Hunt's deadly glares.
But fate was not going to be kind. He'd barely sat down when she followed him through the front door and marched over to stand in front of him. Rafe looked up from the plate he'd just balanced on his lap, keeping his face impassive despite his instantly thudding heart.
Formidable was the word which came to mind to describe Isabel's mother. Handsome, though. She would have been a fine-looking woman when she was younger. Though she did look trapped in a time warp, her grey hair permed into very tight waves and curls, and her belted floral dress with its pleated skirt reflecting a bygone era.
'Mr Saint Vincent...' she began, then hesitated, not because she didn't know what she was going to say, Rafe reckoned, but because she wanted to make him feel uncomfortable.
Her strategy worked. But be damned if he was going to let it show.
'Yes, Mrs Hunt?' he returned coolly, picking up a sandwich from the plate and taking a bite.
'Might I have a little word with you in private?'
He shrugged. 'We're perfectly alone here, so feel free to go for it.'
Her top lip curled. "That's rather the catch cry of your generation, isn't it?' she sneered. 'Feeling free to go for whatever you want.'
'Good, isn't it? Better than being all uptight and hypocritical, like your generation.'
'How dare you?' she exclaimed, her cheeks looking as if they'd been dabbed with rouge.
'How dare you', Mrs Hunt? I am a guest in your home. Are you always this rude to your guests?'
'I have every right to be rude to a man who's taking wicked advantage of my daughter.'
'You think that's what I'm doing?'
'I know that's what you're doing. Isabel would never normally go off like that with some man she'd only just met: You knew she was on the rebound. But that didn't stop you, did it?'
Rafe decided to nip this in the bud once and for all. He figured he had nothing to lose, anyway. 'No,' he agreed, putting his plate down on the seat beside him and standing up, brushing his hands of crumbs as he did so. 'No, it didn't stop me, Mrs Hunt. And I'll tell you why. Because I'm in love with your daughter. I have been ever since the first moment we met. I love her and I want to marry her.'
The woman's eyes almost popped out of her head.
'Of course, I haven't told her this yet,' he went on. 'She's not ready for it. She won't be ready for it for a while, because at this moment her trust in the male sex is so low that she simply won't believe me. She, like you, thinks I'm only with her for the sex. Which is not true.'
'You mean you're...you're not sleeping with her?'
Rafe had to smile. 'Now, ma'am, let's not get our wires crossed here. I didn't say that. I am a man, not a eunuch. And your daughter is very beautiful. But Isabel has much more to offer a man than just sex. She's one very special lady with a special brand of pride and courage. It's a shame her own mother doesn't recognise that fact.'
'But I do. Why, I think she's just wonderful.'
'Funny. I get the impression you haven't told her that too often. Or at all. I gather she thinks you think she's some kind of slut.'
'I do not think anything of the kind! The very idea!'
'Well, she must have got that idea from somewhere. Get with it, Mrs Hunt, or you just might lose your daughter altogether. She's a woman of independent means now and doesn't need you to put a roof over her head. She doesn't need your constant criticisms and disapproval either.'
'But... But... Oh, dear, me and my big mouth again...'
She looked so stricken that Rafe was moved to some sympathy for her. Perhaps he'd been a bit harsh. But someone had to stand up for Isabel. None of the men in her past had, least of all St bloody Luke!
'She needs you to love her unconditionally,' he went on more gently. 'Not just when she's doing what you think is right. Because what you think is right, Mrs Hunt, just might be wrong. And please...don't tell her what I said about being in love with her. If you do, you'll ruin everything.'
'You really love her?'
'More than I would ever have thought possible. I'm going to marry your daughter, Mrs Hunt. It's only a question of time.'
Her joy blinded him. 'Oh. Oh, that's wonderful news. I've been so worried for her. All her life, all she's ever wanted was to get married and...and... Oh, dear..' She broke off and gnawed at her bottom lip for a few seconds, worrying the life out of Rafe. What now?
'You do know Isabel wants a baby very badly, don't you?' she finally went on. "That won't be a problem, will it? I know a lot of men these days aren't so keen on having children.'
Rafe smiled his relief. 'Not a problem at all, Mrs Hunt. Hopefully, it's the solution.'
"The solution?' She looked mystified for a moment. But then the clouds cleared from her astute grey eyes. 'Oh,' she said, nodding and smiling. 'Oh, I see.'
'I trust Isabel will have your full approval and support if I'm successful in my plan? You won't start judging and throwing verbal stones again.'
'You can depend on me, Rafe.'
"That's great, Mrs Hunt.'
'Dot. Call me Dot.'
'Dot.' He grinned at her. 'Wish me luck, Dot.'
'You won
't need too much luck, you sexy devil.'
'Dot! I'm shocked.'
Tm not too old that I can't see what Isabel sees in. you. But I'm not so sure that not telling her you love her is the right tactic.'
'Trust me, Dot. It is.'
'If you say so. Heavens, I have to confess you've surprised me. Look, I'd better go inside or Isabel might come out and catch us together, and she might start asking awkward questions. She thinks I don't like you.'
'Gee. I wonder what gave her that idea?'
Dot's fine grey eyes sparkled with a mixture of guilt and good humour. 'You are a cheeky young man too, aren't you?'
'Go lightly on the young, Dot. I'm over thirty.'
She laughed. "That's young to me. But I take your point and I'll try to get with it, as you said.'
Dot was not long gone and Rafe had just sat down again to finish his food when Isabel burst out onto the porch. 'I've been looking for you. Mum said you were out here. What on earth did you say to her just now?'
'Nothing much.' Rafe hoped his face was a lot calmer than his insides. The more time he spent with Isabel the more hopelessly in love with her he was. And the more desperate for all his plans to succeed. .'Why?'
'Well, she actually smiled at me and told me how much she liked you. You could have knocked me over with a feather. She's been giving you killer looks all day, then suddenly she likes you? You must have said something.'
'I told her she had a wonderful daughter and I was going to marry you.'
Isabel blinked, stared, then burst out laughing. 'You didn't?'
'I did, indeed.'
'Oh, Rafe, you're wicked. First you lie to your mother about getting married, and now to mine. Still, it worked.'
Rafe almost told her then. Told her it wasn't a lie, that he was crazy about her and did want to marry her. But it simply was too premature for such declarations.
'How's Rachel coping?' he asked, deftly changing the subject.
'Not too bad, actually. Did you see that woman we were talking to?'
"The one built like a battleship?'
"That's the one. Her name's Alice McCarthy and Rachel does alterations for her. Did I tell you that's how Rachel's been making some money at home?'
