The Maxwell Sisters

by Loretta Hill

  She was always the girl who waited, the one who couldn’t speak her mind because that would be giving away too much. She was terrible with men, not because of the way she acted, but because of not acting at all. Her invisible dance with Spider had certainly proved that.

  She watched Adam bend down and extract bottles of water from the esky and hand them out to everyone. She watched her sisters thank him with a smile, her father clap a hand on his shoulder, a joke passing between them she couldn’t hear. And then Adonis turned back to her, his eyes softening perceptibly as they rested on her face.

  Her hand went to her throat as a realisation paralysed her. It wasn’t that she loved him, because that had been more than obvious for a while now. She was insanely in love with him.

  No, it was the certain knowledge that she was going to fight for him as well. She, Eve Maxwell, was going to pursue the man of her dreams.

  And she was going to get him.

  Life without risk was only half a life. When she had decided to cook in the restaurant again, the fears of the past had left her. Last night, she had picked up the phone and made the call to Margareta’s.

  ‘I’m resigning,’ she told May. ‘I’m staying at Tawny Brooks.’

  Absentmindedly, she had listened to her old boss’s protests, whose outrage quickly turned to pleading. But Eve didn’t care. She didn’t give in. It was time to let go completely and pursue what she wanted, because she wasn’t the girl who waited any more.

  Of course, even as she made the decision, panic bubbled up.

  Manhunting was uncharted territory for her and she wondered whether she needed some sort of plan. And if so, how was she supposed to come up with it.

  ‘Hey,’ Adonis said, crossing the room, causing her stomach to somersault, ‘are you okay?’

  She raised her eyes, wondering how to cover her obvious nervousness when luckily Tash took the words right out of her mouth.

  ‘You know what, I think I’m going to be sick.’

  Chapter 30

  When Tash flew from the barrel room, her hand over her mouth, Heath almost sighed in relief. At last! An excuse to get some time alone with her. He wasn’t happy that she was sick, of course. However, her sisters had been working hard to keep them apart and he had a feeling that now, more than ever, they needed to talk. He looked at her family, who were staring wide-eyed at her sudden departure.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he raised his hand to reassure them, ‘I’ve got this.’

  He walked out of the barrel room, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. He did not see Tash but could hear someone gagging in the scrub beyond a large green open shed in which an old tractor was parked. He hurried past the tractor and stepped into the bushes.

  ‘Don’t come any closer,’ he heard Tash’s weak voice warn him. ‘It’s not pretty.’

  He frowned. ‘I’ll live.’

  It’s not like he hadn’t seen her throw up before. This scenario, in fact, was pretty familiar to him – her pale face, early bedtimes and odd eating habits; the way she couldn’t look at food one minute and then was ravenous the next. He’d seen all this before.

  Did she honestly hope to keep this food-poisoning ruse up indefinitely? Particularly when her last pregnancy had been exactly the same with morning sickness starting earlier than the norm. Why couldn’t she trust him with what was really going on?

  His boots crunched on gravel and his hands pushed aside tall reeds as he found her in a small clearing, leaning against a stringy bark tree, a shaky hand passing over her moist mouth.

  ‘I told you not to come.’ Her eyes flicked towards him dispassionately.

  He shrugged. ‘I had to see if you were okay.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she nodded, abruptly straightening and coming towards him.

  She would have passed him too and continued to walk back but he caught her around the upper arm.

  ‘Tash, please. Talk to me. I don’t know what to do any more.’

  She stopped walking but refused to look at him. Feeling like a bear, he let her go and was relieved when she didn’t continue her backtrack but turned to face him.

  ‘Neither do I,’ she said at last.

  ‘I take it your sisters know about our marriage difficulties now,’ he murmured. ‘They’re treating me differently.’

  ‘Well,’ Tash said slowly, ‘we can’t pretend forever.’

  His heart sank like a rock in a pond at the finality in her voice. The sound of someone who had given up. He took a breath. ‘You could have told me you were ready to start telling people.’

  ‘Why?’ She looked up. ‘Do you agree that we should?’

  ‘No,’ he took a breath, ‘I don’t. Not yet.’

  He studied her face with a sense of futility. He thought he’d been reaching out to her all this time, showing her how much he wanted her back. She had seemed to respond too, to those little gestures he’d started to reintroduce into their life. Yet last week she had told him that she didn’t trust him emotionally – a blow that had been very difficult to face. Or even believe. Yet now he saw the evidence of it right here in front of him.

  She was pregnant and she had not told him. He had never felt more separate from her in his life.

  ‘What’s the matter, Heath?’ She broke the silence that had lengthened between them. ‘Upset because you can’t see inside my head?’ She grimaced. ‘Join the club.’

  Realisation hit him. This is how she must have felt, this was how she had suffered, when he hadn’t opened up to her after their daughter had died. When you didn’t know what your partner was thinking or feeling it was like being cast adrift on a raft to nowhere.

  ‘Tash, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t try to open up to you more when …’ he swallowed, ‘Sophia died.’ He said his daughter’s name for the first time. ‘I can see how much I hurt you.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she agreed. ‘You did.’

  He looked down into her steady glistening eyes. ‘It was a stupid thing to do. Proud. Dumb,’ he admitted. ‘I just wanted to fix what had happened without looking too closely at it. My dad went through a lot of grief and anxiety when he came back from the war and that’s how I was taught to deal with it. My family didn’t talk about what he’d been through because it upset him. We avoided touchy subjects because we just wanted him to be our father again and not feel any more pain. We did everything to distract him from his past. And I guess I was trying to do the same thing with you.’

  ‘Thank you for telling me.’ She grabbed his hand and held it against her heart. ‘I wish you’d told me earlier but I understand why you didn’t. Really, I do.’

  ‘If you understand,’ he said quickly, ‘then why are you so keen to start telling everyone our marriage is over?’

  ‘That’s not what I’m doing, Heath,’ she said quickly. ‘Not by any stretch. I just need some time to think, to process.’

  ‘To talk?’ he queried gently.

  Tell me you’re pregnant, Tash, he begged her in his head. Tell me.

  If he heard it from her own lips then he would know that she trusted him again and was willing to put her life back in his hands. Not because he was pressuring her to but because she wanted to. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, searching his face. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her trembling lips. When he raised his head, however, her eyes were cool.

  ‘We should get back.’ She nodded and began to walk out of the scrub.

  He pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and watched her go.

  Too little too late, Heath.

  Too little too late.

  Chapter 31

  There was not long now. Only three days away from the happiest moment in Phoebe’s life. She knew there were still unresolved issues all around her. Tash’s separation from Heath had been a huge shock, but she was optimistic that they could get back together. She had seen the looks of longing pass between them in the barrel room and hoped her ‘fix up’ hadn’t been too obvious. Sh
e wanted a happily ever after for Tash and Heath, like she had with Spider.

  After the strange confrontation with Eve about the lingerie, she had absolutely no reservations about their impending marriage. She and Spider had had a long debrief in the Tawny Brooks gardens afterwards.

  ‘So … Adam and Eve.’ Spider had slipped his hand through hers. ‘It has a very fated ring to it, doesn’t it?’

  ‘And you don’t mind?’ She’d thrown him a sideways glance as the gravel path took them beneath the shade of a tall gum tree.

  ‘Mind?’ Spider laughed. ‘I’m happy for her. And glad that she’s not still holding on to feelings for me. Honestly, I had no idea, Phee. None. What can I say? Except that I’m as blind as a bat.’

  She had teasingly poked him in the ribs. ‘I kind of like that about you.’

  ‘Well, will you find something your father might like about me too?’ he’d pleaded with her, ‘because that would really help me out.’

  She’d told him everything then. Everything she had been through in the last few months, including her father’s most terrible secret. She just couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. The secrecy had caused too much damage.

  Spider had been all that she hoped he would be. Supportive and understanding, a solid wall for her to lean on.

  ‘I didn’t want our wedding to be anything but a happy event,’ she confided in him. ‘That’s why I put off telling you about Dad.’

  ‘Phoebe,’ he’d captured her face in his palm, ‘I would never want you to shoulder burdens alone. If you’re going through something then I want to go through it with you.’

  How lovely that had been to hear. She had decided in that moment that she would leave it like that. She would not tell her father that Spider knew. He still distrusted him and would not understand. After all, there was still the issue of the fire that had been deliberately lit. Phoebe believed one hundred per cent that Spider had not done it. It was an accident that had been caused by Eve’s candles, or it had been lit by someone else. Whatever the case, the last thing she needed right then was to get into a debate about it.

  Her wedding was in three days and she wanted that to be her focus. Not a fire that had happened over a year ago. If there was an arsonist out there, he was long gone.

  The final weeks before the wedding had passed in a blur of preparations. The restaurant looked fantastic and everything else was more or less finalised. From the flowers, to the music, to the cake.

  That wasn’t to say that there hadn’t been a few hiccups along the way. Patricia and her mother were still fighting World War Three from covert positions and her father did nothing to improve the issue by insisting on keeping score.

  Patricia won the Battle of the Table Centres, getting her pick, which was the cupid statues instead of Anita’s rustic flower arrangements from blooms picked in the Tawny Brooks gardens. To try to keep things fair, Phoebe had taken her mother’s side over the question of the bouquets. Her argument had been for fresh flowers whereas Patricia had lobbied for fake (so that they could be a keepsake to pass on to her grandchildren).

  But it wasn’t just these disagreements that put Anita in a flurry. She knew her daughters were keeping things from her. Not that Phoebe could fault Eve and Tash for not wanting their mother to know about Tash’s broken marriage, Eve’s almost affair with Spider and new romance with Adam. All their mother would do was worry or, worse, try to wade in with advice.

  How many times had she told Phoebe that Tash was thin and pale? How many times had she begged her to ask her sister what was going on? Phoebe saw the hurt expression in her eyes when Eve and Tash clammed up the second she walked into the room or began to talk rather loudly on some random subject that had been hashed out the day before.

  Then, of course, there was Dad.

  Phoebe’s heart broke whenever her parents were together. She had never seen her mother bring a man more food than she did with her father. Whenever he was around, she was always fussing about him, trying to get past the wall he had erected around himself. Pushing tea and fruit and biscuits and the lord knew what else into his hands. ‘Don’t be silly, Annie,’ she heard him tell her one morning, when they thought they were the only ones in the room. ‘I just ate breakfast half an hour ago.’

  ‘But you look pale.’

  ‘I look pale because I’m tired. I wish you would leave me alone to rest.’

  ‘Why do you shut me out?’

  His voice was weary. ‘I’m not shutting you out, Annie. Let’s go and do something together this week. You and me. How about dancing?’

  ‘So you can avoid my questions with loud music? I don’t think so.’

  His voice was edgy. ‘If you don’t want to spend time with me, that’s fine, but enough with the incessant nagging.’

  As he walked out, Phoebe walked in. Her mother was standing there in the centre, tears running silently down her face. Her face crumpled when she saw her daughter. ‘He’s mad at me again.’

  Phoebe bit her lip as she folded her mother in her arms. ‘Just leave him alone for a while, Mum. He’ll come around.’

  She half wished now that she hadn’t agreed with her sisters’ plan to make the hen’s night for friends only. Her mother needed a night out, away from the house, away from her problems with Dad.

  Hang on, I’m the bride. I can have whatever I want. ‘Do you want to come with us to Saracen’s tonight?’

  Anita pulled back a little. ‘I thought that was for the young people.’

  ‘Tonight I think I need my mum there.’

  Anita looked pleased and then her mouth pulled a little. ‘Of course, this means we’ll have to invite that woman.’

  Phoebe supposed it would be impolite if they didn’t, given Spider’s mother was living in the same house. ‘True.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Anita patted her arm conspiratorially, ‘I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.’

  Her sisters were strangely nervous that evening. And if she didn’t know any better she would have sworn they were put out by the fact that she’d invited their mother. She knew Anita could be a pain sometimes but she thought they’d find it in their heart to remain patient with her. She tried not to get short with them and focused instead on getting ready. She didn’t want anything to spoil her mother’s night. Anita fussed over them as they prepared for the evening, running into their bedrooms with her perfume and her nail polish collection like she used to do when they were teenagers.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she called again for the tenth time as she completed the finishing touches to her make-up.

  The car ride to Saracen’s was not completely unpleasant. Patricia and Anita sparred a little about the bridal corsages but otherwise they all arrived in one piece.

  Eve had arranged for an alfresco table overlooking the Saracen’s dam. Not much was visible at this time of night, but they could still hear the gentle lap of the water as they sat on the wooden deck, perusing their menus.

  They ordered wine but made sure not to discuss it as there were so many winemakers’ daughters at the table it wasn’t funny. Everyone had the same opinion. Their own father’s wine was the best. Phoebe knew the Maxwell sisters were no exception to this rule.

  Her friend Bronwyn turned up late and she could see immediately that the pretty blonde was a little uncertain about being around so many people she didn’t know. Phoebe got up to greet her right away. ‘Hi,’ she said, giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. ‘Great to see you again.’

  ‘Thanks for inviting me,’ Bronwyn smiled. ‘I’ve heard so much about the Maxwell sisters from the Franklins. It’s great to finally put names to faces. When I used to visit town regularly you guys were always off pursuing your various careers.’

  ‘Have you heard word from Claudia?’

  Bronwyn blushed as she led her to their table. ‘Oh, she’s having a great time in Perth. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing her in town for a while yet.’

  Phoebe shrugged. ‘That’s more ti
me to get to know you.’

  She thought she’d introduce Bronwyn to her sisters first and led her over to their table. ‘Hey, guys, this is Bronwyn.’ She gestured at her sisters who were seated next to two other local girls. For some reason they didn’t stand up. ‘This is Eve and Tash.’

  Her sisters looked up briefly.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Tash rather coldly and then promptly turned back to her conversation with the girl beside her.

  What the?!

  Eve was also singularly unmoved, passing Bronwyn a rather stern nod before sticking her fork back into her food. Bronwyn seemed to take it rather well, happy simply to smile and move on.

  ‘Here, come and sit next to me,’ Phoebe said quickly in an effort to cover their snub. She was pretty unimpressed with her sisters’ behaviour and, frankly, had been all evening.

  After dessert, everyone moved inside to have drinks at the bar and she took the opportunity to pull Eve and Tash aside. Frogs croaked in the warm night air and the lights from the restaurant twinkled on the water.

  ‘What’s the matter with you two tonight?’ she demanded harshly.

  Eve’s eyes widened and Tash blinked rapidly. ‘Nothing,’ they both said at the same time.

  ‘Don’t give me that.’ Phoebe put her hands on her hips. ‘You two have been acting strange all evening. Rude too. First with Mum, now with Bronwyn. I want to know what’s going on.’

  Eve looked stricken. ‘We weren’t rude to Mum, were we?’ she asked Tash. ‘I didn’t think so. I’ve been trying extra hard with her lately.’

  ‘Not rude precisely,’ Phoebe amended, ‘but impatient.’

  Tash also looked upset. ‘Do you think she noticed?’

  ‘Well, I noticed and I’m not impressed. She’s going through enough without you guys picking on her as well.’

  ‘We’re not picking on her,’ Tash protested. ‘We just didn’t want her to come tonight.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Tash’s lips clamped shut and Eve’s eyes darted away.