Billie gaped at her. She was in trouble for that? Seriously? ‘Surely you don’t mind?’
Her mother gave a defensive toss of her head and began to rearrange the fruit in the bowl on the counter with unnecessary precision. ‘Don’t you think you should speak to me before you start offering to employ people?’
Billie could feel her jaw dropping even further, as if a hinge had broken. ‘But Freya’s not people, Mum. She’s not just anyone.’ For fuck’s sake, Billie wanted to snarl, but she resisted the temptation to swear out loud. ‘She’s your sister. And she’s just lost her home. She’s lost everything.’
‘I’m well aware of that. I don’t need a lecture, thank you.’
A lecture? Billie might have lost her temper if the milk hadn’t chosen that moment to boil over on the stove behind her, giving a hiss as it hit the glass surface. Spinning round, she did swear this time, as she reached for a dishcloth and swiped at the hot spilt milk.
Through gritted teeth, she said, ‘Freya’s had masses of experience at running a business.’
‘Not at running a bistro.’
‘Mum!’ Billie cried in despairing disbelief. ‘Are you for real? I can’t believe you’re being so negative about your own sister.’
But even as she shouted this protest, a niggling inner voice reminded her . . .
Wasn’t this how it had always been?
Billie had never understood the distanced relationship between her mother and her aunt. She’d always thought they were dead lucky to have each other. Billie would have loved a sister. She’d hated being an only child, the sole focus of her parents’ worry and concern, and her mother’s in particular.
From what she’d observed of her friends’ lives, everything was way easier when the focus was diffused among brothers and sisters. Siblings gave you a built-in support system. Even when those siblings were pesky older brothers, they still gave you options at least. On your own, you had no one.
Gosh, when Billie was young, her imaginary friends had more often than not been imaginary sisters.
Word was, her mum hadn’t been able to have any more children, but Billie hadn’t quizzed her too hard about that. She’d learned when she was quite young that it wasn’t a comfortable topic, and all she’d been able to glean was that her own birth had been trouble free.
‘Oh, you arrived like a dream,’ her mother would say on those rare occasions when Billie had enquired. ‘It was when we got you home that the trouble started.’ This was usually added with a wry, crooked little smile, almost as if it was a joke, or as close to a joke as her mother ever got.
But it was also because she had no siblings that Billie considered her aunt Freya so special. Along with the cards and presents that came from her grandparents at Christmas and birthdays, there’d always been chatty, warm phone calls from Freya, and the cards she’d sent had contained lovely notes – personal messages full of encouragement and love. Freya’s gifts had been special, too.
Billie could still remember most of them – wonderful adventure books, an instant camera, glamorous bath melts, divine scented candles, a silver pendant with the cutest tiny sea turtle that she still wore all the time.
Her mother had often looked worried when Billie had excitedly unwrapped these presents, almost as if she’d feared her daughter might love Freya’s gifts more than her own offerings. Secretly, this had been the case on one or two occasions, but Billie had been wise enough to never let on.
Now, however, the sisters’ scales of fortune were so out of balance – with one totally homeless while the other lived in this gorgeous new stunner – her mother couldn’t possibly feel threatened, surely?
‘I had to tell Freya,’ Billie protested as she poured what was left of the milk into a mug, added powdered chocolate, and began to stir. ‘I was so excited. Inviting her to help is such a great idea and I was sure you’d think so, too. The perfect solution all round. For everyone. And anyway,’ she hurried on before her mother could interrupt. ‘If you’re prepared to leave me more or less in charge of the bistro, I’m entitled to have some say in who helps me.’
‘I suppose that’s true,’ her mother admitted, before her eyes acquired a puzzling, almost triumphant gleam. ‘But Freya’s actually turned us down.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘You’d think I’d know better after all these years,’ Freya moaned to Daisy. ‘I’m used to Pearl. I know her ways. I can read her like a book. I was more or less expecting her to put up barriers, but instead of steering around them, I just lost the plot.’
‘You didn’t hang up on her?’ Daisy asked.
‘More or less.’ Freya grimaced apologetically. ‘I told her to forget the whole plan. I wasn’t interested.’
Daisy’s smile was rueful, but her eyes were soft with sympathy. ‘It’s perfectly understandable that you were tense. You’ve had so much stress.’
Freya sighed and stared into her glass, giving the ruby contents a swirl. Tonight, she should have been able to relax. After a delicious meal of seafood pasta, she was stretched on the sofa in Daisy’s lounge room where a pot-bellied stove in a tiled recess emitted comforting warmth.
Won Ton was snoozing on a mat in front of the stove, and the women were polishing off a fine bottle of red. All the elements for a perfect night were in place, but then Freya’s phone had rung.
And now she was still stewing over a call from her sister that she’d totally wrecked. Mind you, Freya wasn’t sure if she was suffering from regret so much as self-righteous indignation.
Just as she’d feared, it was all very well for Billie to offer her a job that made her feel wanted and useful, while providing the bonus of a roof over her head for six whole months. But how could she possibly accept when Pearl had been so damn lukewarm about the idea?
Pearl hadn’t opposed it outright, of course. How could she when her sister was in such dire straits? But she certainly hadn’t been effusive and welcoming. There’d even been a warning note in her voice.
‘It’s kind of you to make yourself available, Freya, but I imagine you’d get many better offers from businesses on the Sunshine Coast.’
Freya, listening to this, had all too easily remembered her sister’s stern frown and earnest expression.
‘And you poor thing,’ Pearl had added. ‘You’d probably prefer to stay put, so you can be on hand to supervise the builders when they start on your new home.’
This had required the awkward explanation that there would be no new home in the foreseeable future, but Pearl had somehow managed to counter this with a dismissive comment, claiming that Billie really could manage on her own with the help of a bookkeeper, thus hinting that Freya really wasn’t necessary.
‘But of course, if you need to come —’ she’d finished rather lamely.
At which point, Freya had declared she didn’t need the work – which was a blatant lie – and of course she didn’t want to drive all that long way north if it wasn’t necessary.
Now, however, she was kicking herself for throwing away such a wonderful opportunity. Until she’d lost her home, she’d been managing on her savings, but now she was going to have to either pay rent for the rest of her life, or find a job and save for a new, very modest dwelling. The six months’ breathing space that Billie had offered had been like a life raft.
Freya let out another sigh. ‘It would have been different if I thought Pearl was happy to have me there.’ She tried to sound offhand, but she couldn’t keep the tightness from her voice.
Daisy looked concerned. ‘You only have the one sister, don’t you?’
‘Yep. My mum’s over in Western Australia these days, so Pearl’s all the family I have in Queensland. Pearl and Billie – and Troy, of course.’
‘What about your father?’
Freya shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t have a clue about him. I can’t remember him. I was a baby when he left and I’ve never seen him since. Mum would never talk about him.’
‘Gosh, that’s sad.’
; ‘I suppose.’ Freya shrugged. ‘I honestly can’t imagine a father in our lives. When we were kids, it just seemed right to be a family of three – Mum, Pearl and me.’
‘And here am I, overrun by family,’ said Daisy with a wry smile. ‘Sisters, brothers-in-law coming out my ears. Nephews, nieces, countless cousins, all within a fifty-kilometre radius.’ She took a thoughtful sip of her wine. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen much of Pearl either, when she lives so far away. I don’t remember her visiting.’
‘No.’ The single syllable sounded perfunctory, but there it was, the unvarnished, not-so-pretty truth. Since Freya had left Magnetic Island she’d rarely been back and whenever she had made the trip north, Brian had accompanied her. Rather than crowding into Pearl and Troy’s small cottage, they’d stayed at the Picnic Bay pub, and Pearl had always seemed relieved about that. And in all those years, her sister had made only two fleeting visits to see Freya at the Sunshine Coast, protesting that she was always too busy to get away for a proper holiday.
Yet now, after so recently moving into in her beautiful dream home, Pearl was planning to travel around Australia for six whole months. It didn’t make sense.
And I didn’t even ask her about that.
Taking a deep sip of wine, Freya stared at the fire as she considered this puzzle. Her sister’s spontaneous urge to take off was so out of character. In the past, Freya had always been the reckless one, and during their childhood Pearl had dragged her out of trouble more than once.
With that thought, Freya’s chest tightened and, once again, she was reliving that dreadful afternoon when she was just eight years old and they lived in a caravan park in Charleville in western Queensland. Without even closing her eyes, she could see every detail of the dark, weedy creek where she’d almost drowned.
She would never forget the breathless panic of the green water closing over her, the slimy weeds tangling around her ankles, dragging her down. Oh, God, she still had total recall of that all-consuming terror.
It was Pearl who’d rescued her. Despite their six-year age gap, Freya had been almost as tall as Pearl, and she’d thrashed her long arms and legs and almost pulled poor Pearl under the water with her. Somehow, against the odds, Pearl had managed to yank her to safety.
Landing on the muddy bank, gasping but alive, Freya had experienced a moment of huge gratitude. And fifteen years later, she had tried to repay her debt to Pearl.
But that hadn’t gone quite the way she’d hoped.
Okay. Enough.
Freya shifted on the sofa, sitting up straighter and making a deliberate effort to clear her thoughts of the past. The present and the future were what mattered now.
After a bit, she said, ‘I suppose I could try to apologise. Perhaps I should use the stress of the fire as my excuse for hanging up.’
‘Of course,’ Daisy said with a vigorous nod. ‘No one could doubt you’ve been seriously stressed.’
‘Hmmm . . .’ Freya winced. ‘I should probably ring back first thing in the morning and eat humble pie.’
‘But only if you really want to go and help your niece,’ Daisy added quickly. ‘You’re welcome to stay here. You know that, honey. While I do think that a spell on Magnetic Island could be just what you need, I’m certainly not trying to push you away.’
‘I know you’re not, Daize. You’ve been an absolute darling. But I won’t stay here. Not when you have your dishy Charles on his way from New York.’
‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘But Charles might.’ Freya shot her friend a knowing smile and had the pleasure of seeing her blush prettily. It was wonderful to know that Daisy, who was nudging sixty, was excitedly looking forward to a romantic liaison with a man she’d met while on holiday. For a giddy moment, Freya wondered about the possibility of someone like that for herself in the future. But heavens no, not with her track record with men.
‘Honestly,’ she told Daisy. ‘I’m truly grateful for your generosity, but I really should ignore Pearl’s mutterings and take up Billie’s offer.’ It wasn’t just the appeal of a roof over her head and a job. This was also a chance, a dubiously slim chance admittedly, to reconnect with her sister in some small way. ‘I’ll just have to be super sweet and conciliatory to Pearl and she’ll have to suck it up.’
‘I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t want you there, but I know families can be tricky.’
‘Ain’t that the truth?’ Freya suspected that her smile was a little too bitter, but her relationship with her family was a damn sad state of affairs. And in that moment, in Daisy’s fire-warmed room, mellowed by wine and with her friend’s willing, sympathetic ear, she was seriously tempted to spill about the whole sorry situation, to explain exactly why Pearl had always been nervous about letting her too close to Billie.
Unfortunately, Freya had promised she would never tell that story. And despite her many faults, she was a woman of her word.
CHAPTER TEN
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Billie stared at the two lines in disbelief. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real. This mustn’t be happening. It was a bad dream and at any moment now she would wake up and laugh with relief. She couldn’t be pregnant.
In desperation, she closed her eyes and gave the testing stick a vigorous shake, but when she looked at it again, those two stubborn lines were still there.
Panic ripped through Billie. Not in any way was she remotely ready to have a baby. God, she’d already made a big enough mess of her life, but this would stuff it up completely.
I’ll do another test, she told herself. She had no real understanding of how these tests worked, but perhaps there was a chance that her pee had been too concentrated, or something, and had given her a false reading. A girl could hope.
She stood and went to the bathroom sink, filled a tumbler with water and drank it down, then filled it and drank again. Okay.
After yet another tumbler of water, she waited ten minutes, pacing the bathroom floor anxiously, telling herself over and over that everything would be fine. She just had to stay zen.
The killer was, this was actually the second month now that Billie had missed her period. The first month she’d taken little notice. Her cycles had never been very reliable and she’d reasoned that the emotional fallout of breaking up with Petros could explain why she’d skipped a month, especially when the breakup had been followed by a regrettably stressful sailing experience as she’d travelled back up the Queensland coast.
But now, after another month, she was again overdue and those two blue lines were scaring the hell out of her.
Inhaling a deep and hopefully calming breath, she broke another testing stick out of the packet.
‘Okay, here goes . . .’
This time her urine was as clear as rainwater and, with the stick well and truly dosed, Billie closed her eyes. The instructions on the packet said to wait three minutes, so she counted out one hundred and eighty impatient but careful seconds.
Don’t let it be two lines. Don’t let it be two.
She was almost too scared to look, but slowly, fearfully, she opened her eyelids just a crack.
And there they bloody well were. Two damn lines, and if anything, looking stronger and more self-importantly certain than ever. And now that she thought about it, her boobs had been a bit tender lately.
Crap.
How on earth had this happened? Surely not from those few days in Santorini when her prescription had run out and she’d missed taking the pill? Just a few days – three at the most – and anyway, women in her family were supposed to be hopeless at getting pregnant. Her mum could only have one kid and Freya hadn’t been able to have any.
And yet.
Billie let out a heartfelt groan. And yet here she was, pregnant without even trying. How unfair was that?
Filled with gloom, she sank back onto the edge of the bath and her thoughts, inevitably, veered to Petros. Instantly, she could picture him, all Greek-god gorgeous with his coffee-dark eyes and glossy black h
air, his smooth golden-brown skin and ridonkulously sculpted muscles. His slow, sexy smile.
But how would Petros react to the news of impending fatherhood? Would it soften the indifference he’d shown towards her at the end?
No question, he would look absolutely awesome with a baby in his arms, but would he want her and their child back in his life?
Sadly, Billie couldn’t be confident about that. If she was totally honest, she had serious doubts.
She sighed heavily as she remembered the night she’d first met Petros at a beach party on Santorini. He’d been crazy about her and she’d never experienced such beautiful flirting. Admittedly, moonlight and ouzo had been involved, but dancing with Petros on the edge of the Aegean Sea, with gentle wavelets lapping at their ankles, had been the most incredibly romantic experience.
Within a week, Petros had begged Billie to move in with him, and every single thing about their life together had been beyond fabulous. Certainly, no girl could have asked for a more ardent or passionate lover.
It had been several blissful months before he’d begun to change, turning from god to grouch, complaining that Billie was untidy, even though he was perfectly happy to leave his jocks lying about on the floor, and suggesting that her cooking wasn’t quite up to scratch, certainly not as good as his mother’s.
Billie had known these were clues that he was getting tired of her, and perhaps she had mentioned Australia a little too often in those later conversations when homesickness crept in. No doubt she had banged on too much about Magnetic Island’s beauty when she’d told him about her home. And perhaps it hadn’t been wise to inform him about the huge numbers of Greeks who’d happily migrated to Australia.
Just the same, it had still been a huge shock when Petros had quite forcefully suggested it was time for her to leave.
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