He knew what she was getting at, and he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t ready to share a flat with her, let alone a bed.
‘Never mind,’ Sarah went on, ‘I’m sure we can fit a crib in the room with me, a change table. Maybe you could come shopping with me?’
He looked up. ‘What’s the rush? There’s still a couple of months.’
‘Because this is what you do, Joe,’ she said, slightly exasperated. ‘You prepare yourself, you start . . . nesting, that’s what all the books say. It might help you to come to terms with the fact that there’s going to be a baby actually living here.’
He nodded thoughtfully.
‘So can we go shopping?’ she persisted.
‘Sure . . .’
‘Today?’
‘I have to work today, Sarah.’
‘Tomorrow then?’
‘I have to work tomorrow too.’
‘But it’s a Saturday.’
‘And it’s a Sunday paper.’
‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘I thought you were only writing features and op-eds, it’s not like you have to be there all the time.’
‘I just had a whole week up with Dad, I told you that. I have to make up some time.’ And he had to make up any excuse to get out of here as much as possible. At least until he got used to this.
She was watching him. ‘I’m nagging, aren’t I?’
‘Little bit.’
‘Okay,’ she said, as though something was resolved. ‘I’ll leave you to get ready. Do you want a cup of tea?’ she asked on her way to the door.
He looked at her. ‘You don’t make coffee, do you?’
‘You buy coffee at a café,’ she said archly. ‘You make tea at home.’
‘Whatever you say.’
The Tribune
It was easy to wander around a newspaper office without looking obvious or bothering anyone. Everyone wandered around in various levels of chaos, vacillating from mild to frenetic, depending on the day or even the time of day. So although Joe had probably done ten laps of the news floor throughout the morning, no one would have noticed or thought anything of it if they had.
He hadn’t seen Jo yet; he kept walking by her desk, but her computer hadn’t been turned on; there was still no sign she had been here for days, nothing in the wastepaper basket, nothing had been disturbed on the desk, her chair hadn’t even shifted. Joe leaned against the half-wall staring into the cubicle. He was really beginning to worry about her. Surely she’d understand if he rang her.
He spotted Leo walking around the other side of the news floor, his head bent over a wad of papers. Joe quickly manouevred through the maze of desks to head him off at the pass.
‘Leo?’
He glanced up briefly. ‘Joe,’ he acknowledged, returning his attention to the papers as he continued on his way.
Joe fell in beside him. ‘Listen, you haven’t heard from Jo Liddell, have you? She hasn’t been in for a few days as far as I can tell.’
‘She’s taking some personal leave,’ he muttered without looking up.
‘Do you know why?’
‘There’s a reason it’s called “personal” leave, Joe.’ They arrived at the elevator bay and Leo pressed the button to go up. ‘Do you know anything about this Libyan-based militia group that has suspected ties to al-Qaeda?’ he asked.
‘A little,’ Joe shrugged.
‘What do you know?’
‘That there’s a Libyan-based militia group that has suspected ties to al-Qaeda.’
‘You want to look into it?’ Leo said, holding up a manila folder.
‘Sure,’ Joe said, taking the file from him as the elevator doors opened.
‘Illness in the family,’ said Leo, walking into the lift.
‘What was that?’
‘Jo’s taking leave because of an illness in the family.’
‘Oh, not her sister, I hope?’
Leo pressed the button for his floor. ‘You’ll have to ask her.’
‘I intend to.’
Leo nodded as the doors began to glide to a close. ‘Apparently it’s her mother.’
‘Thanks.’
He walked quickly back to his office and closed the door, tossing the folder onto his desk. He picked up the phone and dialled for an outside line, then he took his mobile out of his pocket and scrolled down to find Jo’s mobile number. The Trib’s number was blocked so she wouldn’t know it was him calling. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he wasn’t sure whether she’d pick up if she did. He didn’t know what their relationship was now. As he waited for the call to connect, he wondered if her mother really was sick. They weren’t very close, it was possibly just an excuse.
‘Hello?’
Joe was taken aback for a moment at the sound of her voice. ‘Hi, Jo, it’s me.’
‘Oh . . . hello.’
She sounded guarded.
‘I’m calling, well, I just wanted to see if you were all right.’
‘I’m all right, Joe.’
‘Leo said you’re taking some personal leave?’
He heard her sigh. ‘Yeah, it’s my mother.’
He moved around to sit down at his desk. ‘Is she okay?’
‘Well, no, not exactly. She has breast cancer.’
‘God, Jo, how bad is it?’
‘Bad enough. Not that she seems to get that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s refusing to take the doctor’s advice, she’s worked out her own treatment plan instead.’
‘Based on what?’
‘Her vast medical knowledge and experience, I suppose.’
‘Jo, what’s going on?’
She sighed again. ‘I wish I knew, Joe,’ she said, her defences dropping finally, he could hear it in her voice.
‘Talk to me.’
‘She agreed to have the lump removed, which they did Wednesday, and she’ll start ray treatment next Tuesday, despite the fact that the doctor preferred a partial mastectomy to be safe, and possibly a course of chemo depending on the pathology results after surgery.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Joe. ‘Why wouldn’t she listen to the doctor?’
‘I have no idea, she won’t discuss it at the moment. I might have a better chance of getting it out of her once she moves in here.’
‘She’s moving in with you?’ He was surprised to hear that, given their relationship.
‘Well she can’t stay out at Belle’s, she has to go to the hospital five days a week for the next seven weeks. It’s a short ride by taxi from my place, so this was the best solution.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘It doesn’t matter how I feel,’ she said. ‘I’m doing it for Belle mostly. And because it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes you have to do the right thing even if you don’t feel like it.’
He wished he could see her, touch her. Be there for her.
‘I miss you,’ he said.
‘Joe, you can’t say that. Do you think it helps me to hear you say that?’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just the way I feel.’
‘Like I said, how we feel doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes it does.’
‘Joe –’
‘I’m just saying, it matters.’
‘But it doesn’t change anything.’
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘It just makes it hard.’
‘I can’t listen to this, Joe,’ she said. ‘I’m going to have to hang up if you keep talking like that.’
‘Don’t, please,’ he said. ‘I’m only trying to work out where we go from here. Can’t we be friends at least, Jo?’
‘Not if I have to listen to you talking about how hard it is.’
‘Fair enough,’ he sighed. ‘When am I going to see you?’
‘I’ll be back at work next week,’ she told him. ‘I’m sure we’ll bump into each other from time to time, Joe. But I have to be honest, I’m probably going to try to avoid that.’
‘I unde
rstand.’ But it hurt to hear her say it anyway.
‘I hope you do,’ said Jo. ‘And I hope you will respect that.’
‘I will,’ he said. ‘But Jo, I want you to know that I’m here if you need me. Always remember that.’
Tuesday
Jo heard her phone ring twice and then stop. That would be Belle; she was dropping off Charlene and Jo had warned her there was no way she would get a park in the middle of the afternoon on a week day. She said to prank her phone, and she’d come down and meet them on the street. Jo grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She didn’t know if she was prepared for this, but now she had no more time to think about it. The arrangement eventually agreed upon was that Belle would take Charlene for her first session of ray treatment, and then bring her back to Jo’s place, to stay. Charlene had obviously wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as she possibly could. But Belle had stood firm with Jo, so she’d had no choice in the end. It had taken some convincing on Jo’s part, Belle was weak where her mother was concerned, but it was Darren who’d put his foot down finally. Belle could not be expected to run Charlene back and forth to the hospital every day, he insisted, there were the children to consider, and it was too much to expect of her anyway. Jo was impressed by his show of force, and for maybe the first time she got a glimpse of what Belle saw in him.
When Jo stepped out of her building she spotted Belle unloading Charlene’s bags from the back of her car, just a little way up the street, and walked up to meet her.
‘Hi Belle.’
She turned around, looking harried. ‘How are you going to manage all of these?’
‘Mum can help.’
Belle winced. ‘I’m not sure, she seems a bit down after the treatment.’
Maybe it was the treatment, but Jo knew it was more likely she was just having a sulk because she had been usurped from the little principality where she lorded it over Belle. For the first time in her life she had to do what suited her daughters, and she didn’t like it. Despite the fact that this was all for her sake anyway.
Jo walked to the passenger door and opened it. ‘Hi Mum,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘You have to hop out, Belle can’t stay parked here for long or she’ll get booked.’
Charlene just gave her a withering look.
‘Do you need a hand getting out of the car?’ Jo added, unfazed.
‘I’ll manage,’ she grunted.
‘Good then,’ said Jo, turning around to consider the bags lined up on the footpath. ‘I might just take a couple of these into the foyer,’ she said to Belle.
When she returned, Charlene was hanging onto Belle’s arm, talking emphatically. She stopped abruptly when she saw Jo approaching.
‘Okay, Mum, say goodbye to Belle,’ said Jo. ‘She has to get going.’
Belle gave her mother a hug. ‘I’ll call you later, see how you’re doing.’
‘Don’t pretend you care,’ Charlene retorted. ‘I’m sure you’ll be too busy living it up tonight, glad you’ve got rid of me.’
‘Mum –’
‘Come on, Belle,’ said Jo firmly, taking her by the arm. ‘You have to get back for the kids.’
She led her around to the driver’s side and turned to look at her. ‘She’s going to be okay, she’s just trying to make you feel guilty.’
‘Yeah, well, she’s succeeding.’
‘Belle,’ Jo shook her head, ‘you’ve done enough for her. More than enough.’
‘But are you sure this isn’t going to be too much for you?’ she asked. ‘Where are you going to sleep?’
‘We’ve been through all this,’ said Jo. ‘I’ll sleep on the pull-out lounge, it’s perfectly comfortable. I’ll be fine.’
Belle looked unconvinced.
‘Go home to your family,’ said Jo. ‘I’ve got it from here.’ She almost had to push Belle into the car. ‘Say hi to the kids. And Darren,’ she added.
Jo went back to the kerb and stood with Charlene, waving as Belle pulled away with a toot of her horn.
She passed a small overnight bag to her mother. ‘Here, you take this. I’ll get the rest.’
‘This doesn’t look like everything,’ said Charlene, frowning at the remaining bags.
‘Yeah, I took two of your suitcases into the foyer already.’
‘What?’ she looked alarmed. ‘And you left them there?’
‘It’s a security block, Mother, no one can get in from the street.’
‘But what about the people who live there?’
Jo ignored the inference. ‘Let’s go in, shall we?’
The bags were still sitting undisturbed in the foyer, so Jo got Charlene to hold the door while she transferred the extra bags into the lift, repeating the process when they arrived at her floor. She walked down the corridor to her apartment and opened the door, standing back for Charlene to go through first.
‘Well,’ she said, looking around, ‘not exactly homely, is it?’
Jo wouldn’t even credit that with a response.
‘Come on through to the bedroom, Mum, and you can get settled.’ She walked ahead, carrying what she could of the luggage. ‘I’ve cleared some space in the wardrobe for you,’ she said, dropping the bags and sliding the door open as Charlene appeared in the doorway.
‘Hmm, I don’t know how I’ll fit all my things.’
Jo didn’t know why she had so much stuff, but she wasn’t going to bite. ‘You can always rotate, leave what you don’t need in suitcases.’
‘I need everything.’
‘I’ll help you put your things away later, when you’re up to it,’ Jo said briskly. ‘Bathroom’s just through there.’ She had spent the weekend scrubbing the place from top to bottom; she was not going to let her mother find any grounds for complaint. Not that Charlene would ever have earned prizes for house-cleaning, but she would have won a championship trophy for fault-finding.
‘Where can I smoke?’ Charlene asked bluntly.
‘Down on the street,’ Jo returned, just as bluntly.
She looked at her daughter in horror.
‘And not just outside the door,’ Jo went on, ‘you have to be three metres away from the entrance. Body corporate rules.’
‘So I’m going to have to schlep down the elevator every time I want a cigarette, and stand out on the street with all that pollution?’
‘You do have cancer, Mum, maybe this would be a good time to think about cutting down.’
She grunted. ‘I’m tired,’ she said curtly. ‘I’m going to have a lie-down for a while.’
‘Okay,’ said Jo. ‘Call me if you need anything.’ She backed out again, closing the door as she did.
It was going to be a long seven weeks.
The Tribune
‘Leo, you have got to give me something to do.’
Jo had made an appointment to see Leo in his office the day she got back to work. He finally fitted her in two days later.
‘You’ve got plenty to do,’ he said, scrolling down his computer screen, not looking at her.
She shook her head. ‘No, I mean you’ve got to give me something substantial.’
Jo knew that if she had an assignment she could really sink her teeth into she could kill a whole flock of birds with one stone. It would keep her occupied, keep her mind off her own troubles; and she wouldn’t have to be at the office so much, therefore avoiding both Lachlan and Joe. She could ignore Lachlan’s sneering contempt, but it was harder to ignore Joe. She could sense when he was watching her across the news floor, and she had to steel herself not to look up. She really wished she didn’t have to see him at all, it would be so much easier.
If she had an independent assignment she could work from home a lot of the time. That way she’d be close at hand for Charlene, and when that got too much, she could be out and about, meeting with contacts, gathering information.
Leo regarded her over the top of his glasses. ‘I don’t “got” to give you anything, Joanne. You want to write a big story, go write a big sto
ry.’
‘Yeah, and any time I’ve tried to do that, Leo, you take my research and give it to Lachlan or Don, and I get screwed.’
He narrowed his eyes, considering her. Oops, that might have been a bit strong. She didn’t know if he was annoyed or intrigued.
‘I gave you the climate summit,’ he reminded her.
‘Yeah, and I did well, didn’t I?’ she said, holding onto what was left of her bravado.
‘I said you did . . . didn’t I?’
She folded her arms. ‘You vaguely acknowledged it during an editorial meeting.’
‘Jo, it’s your job,’ he sighed, sitting back in his chair. ‘If I’m supposed to go around kissing the feet of my journalists because they do their job . . .’
‘I’m not asking you to kiss my feet, Leo,’ she said firmly, ‘I’d just like you to give me the opportunity to do my job to the best of my abilities. You did give me the climate summit, you obviously thought I could handle it. So now what? Do I have to wait another three years before I get to do anything that big again?’
He seemed to be giving it some thought. ‘What about the tollway story?’ he said finally.
‘I thought there was no story,’ said Jo. ‘Lachlan couldn’t find anything.’
He shrugged. ‘You want to prove yourself.’
‘Leo, it isn’t exactly fair to give me something from the too-hard basket that your senior journalists haven’t been able to crack.’
‘Hear me out,’ he said, leaning forward on his desk. ‘I met this guy at a function just last night. He was wondering why none of the papers had persisted with investigating the rumours. I told him we kept running into dead ends. He said he’d be happy to talk to someone, even go on the record.’
Jo was intrigued. ‘Who is he?’
‘He used to work for one of the major contractors.’
She sighed. ‘Leo, disgruntled past employees don’t generally make reliable informants.’
‘He wasn’t digging ditches, Jo. He’s a senior project manager, and he walked out after he became, let us say, disillusioned with the tender process. And he still has some of the paperwork to support his suspicions.’
Now she was really intrigued. ‘Who else knows about this?’
Crossing Paths Page 40
