Freya’s bright hair was twisted up into a loose knot and she managed to look wonderfully elegant, even though she was slicing shallots.
Brian had been an idiot to let her go, Billie thought. Then again, most men were huge disappointments, she decided now.
‘Hey, Billie.’ Freya was smiling as she picked up her glass and raised it in a welcoming salute. ‘How was your day?’
This wasn’t an easy question to answer honestly. Billie tried to sound offhand. ‘Not bad.’
She hadn’t been hungry at lunchtime, but now, seeing Freya’s preparations, she realised she was quite famished. ‘That looks delicious,’ she said. ‘Are you planning another of your fab stir-fries?’
‘Yes, they’re so easy,’ said Freya. ‘I have beef strips marinating in the fridge and I’ll just throw it all together.’
‘Yum.’
Freya gave another wave of her wine glass. ‘You’ll join me, won’t you? I decided I’ve earned a drink tonight.’
Billie sighed. ‘I’d love to. I’m sure I need one, too.’ She was exhausted and she would have adored to curl up on the sofa with a hefty glass of wine, listening to music, or to Freya’s conversation, while together they watched the last of the light sink into night.
‘Wonderful.’ Freya was already turning and reaching into an overhead cupboard for another glass.
‘But I shouldn’t,’ Billie said quickly.
‘Are you sure?’
Billie hesitated. She still hadn’t shared her baby news with Freya and she wasn’t in any rush to do so, but she’d just had the crappiest of crappy days. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said quickly before she could change her mind.
‘You’re —’ Freya paused and frowned, as if she feared she might have misheard.
‘I’m pregnant,’ Billie said again. She hadn’t meant to make such a bald statement that would almost certainly spoil Freya’s relaxed evening, but before she could add anything to soften her news, her throat seemed to close over. She swallowed and knew she had to get the worst of this off her chest now. ‘Actually, the truth is, I went to Townsville today to have an abortion.’
Billie saw rather than heard Freya’s gasp. She’d shocked the poor woman.
And now, instead of enjoying the peaceful evening, Billie was reliving the turmoil and pain of her day. Recalling that awful moment when she’d sat in the waiting room at the clinic, watching a young and frightened girl being wheeled on a trolley down a corridor and through swing doors. The girl could only have been seventeen or eighteen. She had long, shiny dark hair and she was Asian and beautiful, and Billie didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look quite so scared. Or sad.
She’d told herself that tomorrow the girl would wake to a brand-new day and she’d get on with the rest of her life unburdened. Free. But as she’d sat in the waiting room with its pretty cane lounges upholstered in tropical hues, Billie had begun to sweat as she pictured the sterile operating theatre, the waiting doctor kitted in mask and gloves, the surgical instruments.
Quickly now, she continued with her story before she lost her nerve. ‘There’s a clinic in South Townsville and they’re very good. Very professional. I’d been there for a previous appointment and the procedure was all arranged. If I was going to have – it – done, it was best to have it now, before I got to twelve weeks. But I turned up there today, and everything was all set, and then —’
Billie’s lips trembled now, but she was determined not to cry again. ‘I couldn’t go ahead. I pulled out at the last minute.’
Pausing for breath, she was at least relieved that she’d got her story out without blubbering all over Freya for a second time. ‘So, now you know,’ she said.
Freya hadn’t moved. She was still standing on the other side of the kitchen bench. ‘Billie,’ she said softly. It was quite possibly all the poor woman was capable of saying.
‘I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?’
‘Not shocked, exactly.’ Freya’s smile was gentle. ‘I’m not easily shocked these days, but I must admit you’ve surprised me.’
‘I haven’t told Mum and Dad – that I’m pregnant. I was worried they wouldn’t leave on their holiday if they knew. They’d feel compelled to stay around. To worry and hover over me and protect me, or whatever.’
‘I’m quite sure you’re right about that.’
‘And I didn’t want to burden you with having to help me make such an enormous decision.’
Freya’s smile was tinged with sadness. ‘You really are all grown up now, aren’t you?’ She managed to make this sound like a compliment rather than a mere statement of fact. ‘And you’re going to have a baby.’ Her eyes were shining a little too brightly. ‘When Pearl and Troy do find out, they’ll be over the moon.’
‘I hope so.’
‘They will, Billie. They’ll be thrilled.’
Billie sighed. She felt exhausted but relieved to have this out in the open. ‘I’m sure they’d be happier if I was settled in a steady relationship.’
‘Oh, they’ll get over that.’
‘I guess they’ll have to, won’t they?’
Freya’s smile grew warmer now. ‘Babies have a way of making everything right.’
‘You think so?’ Billie wondered what grounds her aunt had for sharing such wisdom. One of the main thoughts that had stopped her from going ahead today had been the fact that she’d fallen pregnant so incredibly easily, while her mum had tried for years, apparently, and Freya hadn’t been able to have children at all.
‘Listen,’ Freya said now, quite forcefully. ‘There’s no rush to eat. I can turn off that saucepan. Why don’t we sit for a bit before I start cooking? What would you like to drink? Soda water? A cup of tea?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Billie. ‘Soda water’s fine, but I can get it, thanks. You don’t have to wait on me.’
Bless Freya. She was so understanding. Billie felt a little guilty about her next thought – that she was more comfortable talking about such a difficult personal issue with her aunt rather than her mum, who was always such a worrier.
She filled a tall tumbler with soda water, added ice and a slice of lemon, and they settled on the sofas next to the huge picture windows. Tropical dusks were notoriously swift and, already, the daylight had almost disappeared outside. The first stars would show soon. Out on the horizon, she could just catch the silhouette of a sailing boat heading north, a sloop, its mainsail curved like a snowy wing.
Won Ton crossed the floor and leapt into Freya’s lap, then curled, tucked her tail in, and settled, looking very pleased with herself.
‘I know Pearl wouldn’t approve, but I won’t let her on the actual sofa,’ Freya said as she stroked the little dog’s back. ‘But I don’t think she can do much harm on my lap.’
‘Of course she can’t.’ Billie realised, with some annoyance, that her mother must have issued dire warnings to Freya about her dog’s presence in the house. ‘Won Ton’s a darling. I love having her here.’
‘Thanks.’ Freya took a sip of wine and then set her glass down on a small bleached-wood table. ‘So, how are you actually feeling, Billie? Feeling physically, I mean. Have you had morning sickness?’
‘I’m pretty good, actually. Tender boobs, a little nausea in the mornings, a bit tired, but nothing too drastic.’
‘That’s great.’ After a beat, ‘And now that you’ve made the big decision to keep the baby, how do you feel about that?’
‘I’m still getting used to the idea.’ Billie realised she was avoiding a direct answer. ‘Actually, I think, if I’m honest, I’m shit scared. I certainly don’t feel in any way ready to be a mother.’
‘I don’t suppose it’s any consolation to suggest that there’ve been millions of women throughout history who’ve landed in the same situation.’ Even as Freya said this, she looked instantly apologetic. ‘Sorry, Billie. Why would I even bother to spout history when you’re dealing with the here and now?’ Quickly, as if to make amends, she added, ‘Tell me to butt out
and mind my own business.’
‘No, it’s good to have someone to talk with.’
‘I suppose most of your girlfriends have moved off the island?’
‘Yeah, you know what it’s like. Straight after school, they all move away to get university degrees and sensible jobs.’
Freya accepted this with a gentle nod.
‘And of course you’re right about women throughout history,’ Billie added. ‘I’m really grateful that I live in Queensland in the twenty-first century, that I wasn’t forced into some kind of back alley job and I at least had a choice.’
‘Still, it can’t have been an easy one.’
‘Hardest decision I’ve ever made.’ Billie gave her glass a gentle shake, making the ice cubes clink as the slice of lemon swirled. ‘But I found myself thinking about you and Mum.’
At this, Freya looked quite startled, almost worried. ‘Really?’
‘You both had so much trouble falling pregnant. I was aware, even as a child, that pregnancy can be a really big deal.’
‘Well, yes.’
‘It’s bizarre that here I am now, up the duff without even trying.’
Freya almost looked relieved now. She smiled. ‘Life’s full of little ironies.’
‘True. And I’ve decided there’s something crazily whacked about human fertility.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, for starters, the whole connection to sex. That makes everything way too complicated and emotional. And too often, babies are either desperately wanted and hard to produce, or incredibly life-altering and inconvenient.’
‘Yes, but those extremes are especially applicable to our family. Happily, most people enjoy some kind of middle ground.’
Billie sent her aunt a rueful smile. ‘As you can see, I’ve been overthinking this subject.’
‘That’s perfectly understandable.’
‘But I still think it would make much more sense if you could just buy a baby when you needed one.’
Freya laughed. ‘Order one online perhaps?’
‘Absolutely, or go find one under a gooseberry bush like in the old wives’ tales.’ In the next breath, Billie found herself apologising. ‘Sorry. I know I’m talking gibberish. I think it’s the relief of having finally decided. I promise I’m ready to face up to reality.’
Indeed, this evening on the way home on the ferry, Billie had found herself starting to fall in love with the idea of a baby. Despite her fears of inadequacy in the motherhood department, she’d been excited by the thought of her baby, her very own tiny being, curled like a bean or a fern frond, safely inside her.
‘Speaking of reality,’ Freya sounded cautious now, as if she was tiptoeing onto dangerous ground, ‘am I right in assuming that the man on Santorini is your baby’s father?’
‘Yep.’ This admission was accompanied by an instant slug of heartache and a deluge of memories of Petros at his most loving and gorgeous. Before he’d begun to tire of her. Billie grimaced. ‘Yep, he’s the father, but I haven’t told him.’
‘Okay.’ Freya took another thoughtful sip of her wine. ‘So are you planning to tell him? Now that you know you’re keeping the baby?’
‘I —’ Billie wished, more than anything, that she could answer in the affirmative, that she could confidently share her happy news with Petros. ‘I don’t know,’ she was forced to admit. ‘I’m not sure it’s something he’d want to hear.’
‘That certainly makes it harder.’
‘Yeah.’ Billie shifted uncomfortably. ‘Look, I might tell him. I guess he has a right to know, but I’m not going to rush.’
‘That’s fine, Billie. Please don’t think I’m trying to push you.’
‘No, I know you’re not. But I guess I need to give myself time to get used to the idea first.’
‘Of course you do. Will you keep working in the restaurant?’
‘Sure. For as long as I can. I guess at some point a baby bump might get in the way.’ Billie pulled a face as she said this. All the changes ahead were so daunting.
‘See how you go,’ said Freya. ‘You don’t want to overtire yourself.’ With another of her lovely warm smiles, she added, ‘But for what it’s worth, I have every confidence you’ll be a fabulous mum.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘I’m afraid Gavin has bad news.’
It was a month later, a month of relatively smooth sailing, when Billie greeted Freya with these tidings as soon as she arrived at the restaurant.
‘What kind of bad news?’ Freya hoped their chef wasn’t ill.
‘He wants to leave us.’
Freya groaned.
Billie looked bleak. ‘I know.’
‘Why?’
Billie was in the process of setting tables, but now she abandoned the cutlery and lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I’ll let Gavin explain. He’s expecting you.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Freya mentally added even less polite swear words for good measure. This news was especially disappointing when the past month had gone so well. The weather had been perfect and Billie had been so much happier, especially since her recent scan at sixteen weeks when she’d been told that her baby was growing perfectly.
An extra bonus was that Freya had miraculously avoided running into Seb Hudson again. Meanwhile, tourists had flocked to the island and Island Thyme had been running brilliantly and was almost full every night. She really thought they were on top of things, that her life had finally taken a turn for the better.
Given that her life had been a complete shambles for the past twelve months, perhaps she should have been wiser, should have been ready, at least, for a few extra hurdles.
But to lose their chef? Surely that was one hurdle too many? Pearl, who was currently having a brilliant time in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, would be devastated. She’d warned Freya that it was difficult to keep good staff on the island. At the time, she’d also said how lucky they were that Gavin loved living on Maggie and had no plans to leave.
Perhaps her sister should have known that a chef like that was too good to be true.
Freya felt quite sick as she went through to the kitchen. It didn’t help that Gavin looked really uncomfortable, offering a smile that was more like a wince when he saw her, while scratching nervously at his chest.
She didn’t beat about the bush. ‘Billie’s told me your news,’ she said. ‘You’ll be leaving us soon?’
Gavin looked apologetic as he nodded. ‘The thing is, I’ve had an offer too good to refuse. A fantastic job in Tasmania. In Hobart. At a top restaurant.’
Freya had been to memorable restaurants in Hobart, back in the days when she and Brian had liked to travel. She could still recall the delicious meals – aged beef and seafood seared on woodfired barbecues, wonderful cheeses, sticky puddings made with locally sourced berries.
‘It’s the kind of opportunity I’ve been hanging out for,’ added Gavin.
‘I’m sure it is and that’s – wonderful.’ What else could she say? Despite the dilemma his offer caused her, she couldn’t help but be genuinely pleased for the guy.
She glanced at the counter behind him where he’d set his popular sourdough bread rolls to rise. Soft, plump and dusted in flour, even as raw dough, they made her mouth water.
The man was hardworking and talented and he was right to be ambitious. He deserved to progress.
But we need him here.
‘The problem is, they want me to start as soon as I can,’ he said.
Freya took a deep breath. ‘How soon?’
‘Next week.’
Good grief. ‘But that’s —’ Ridiculous was the word that sprang to Freya’s lips. Just in time, she tempered her response. ‘That’s a bit unreasonable, don’t you think?’ It was hard to take a firm stance, though, when she wasn’t sure of the exact terms of Gavin’s employment. ‘You know it’ll be almost impossible to find anyone decent to replace you so quickly.’
To her surprise, Gavin ac
tually grinned. ‘Well, that’s the thing, you see. I do actually know someone who’d be a very good stand-in.’
‘Really?’
‘He’s a mate of mine, from the Arcadia Lifesavers.’
This didn’t sound at all promising. ‘But is he a qualified chef?’
‘He has a food handler’s licence – for our sausage sizzles and fundraisers.’
‘Gavin,’ Freya could hardly believe she was hearing this, ‘are you serious? You think a sausage-flipping lifesaver can take over in this kitchen? Do you really think he has the slightest chance of producing anything close to the wonderful meals that you’ve been serving?’
‘I do, yeah. He’s actually a really good cook. He spends a lot of time in Spain up in the San Sebastián region. You should sample the way he grills a whole fish.’
A nasty shiver skittered down Freya’s spine.
‘We’re talking seriously good food,’ Gavin said next. ‘That area of Spain has some of the world’s greatest restaurants and this guy’s mates with a couple of their chefs. But he’s also spent time in Italy and France, Morocco. He’s picked up some great ideas.’
She forced herself to ask. ‘What’s this fellow’s name?’ But she already knew the answer. Almost fearfully, she said, ‘It’s not Seb Hudson, is it?’
‘That’s him.’ Gavin was busily grinning again. ‘You two know each other, don’t you?’
Freya ignored this question. She was too busy remembering the embarrassment of Seb’s snub at the supermarket. She’d never received such an obvious and publicly humiliating cold shoulder. Sonia Brassal’s eyes had been out on stalks as she’d watched them. The woman was almost purring.
Suppressing another shiver now, Freya forced herself to ask, ‘Have you actually spoken to Se— to Mr Hudson about cooking here – for us?’
‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t have mentioned him otherwise.’
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