Could he blame her? No. Her shock on hearing how he’d used Nina in the war with his father—had that recalled memories of the way she’d been treated back at West Windward?
Had those fears ever left her—that it could happen to her again in some way? Would they ever leave her? Yes, she’d slept with him, but had she ever really opened her heart to him?
She certainly hadn’t shown any great excitement at the thought of racing to the altar with him.
But here he was, racing back to Sydney to stop Nina French from getting entangled with Talbot Spencer—why?
Because he had a guilt complex? No doubt about it.
Because he needed to exorcise himself of the demons that his father as well as Nina had left him with so he could go back to Mia without any baggage.
But how to do that? If she really meant it was over?
CHAPTER EIGHT
FOUR MONTHS LATER Mia sat at her desk on her last day at Bellbird.
She’d held her last function the day before and a van now stood outside the house, ready to remove all the equipment she’d hired on a year to year basis, tables, chairs, trolleys and linen. Another truck had removed the commercial kitchen equipment and all the crockery and cutlery.
Her office was unusually tidy. All her paperwork was filed and boxed, all her notes on the wall had gone.
All that was left, in fact, was her phone, a pen and a pad.
It had been a successful four months in that she’d managed to fulfil all her obligations. She had quite an extensive file of references for her next venture but, as it turned out, the glowing terms for her entertaining skills in those references were not going to be much help to her at all as things stood at the moment.
She’d neither seen nor heard from Carlos. All her dealings had been with his secretary, Carol Manning, and no more functions had been booked for O’Connor Construction.
She’d held her breath and felt like fainting for a moment when she’d been idly scanning a newspaper and seen an article entitled: O’Connor Wedding Goes Without Hitch Despite Weather.
Carlos and Nina, a voice of doom had said in her head. But when she’d opened her eyes and forced herself to read, it wasn’t Carlos O’Connor who’d got married—it was his mother!
She’d read on, astounded. ‘Arancha O’Connor, widow of construction billionaire Frank O’Connor, had remarried in an elegant ceremony despite highly inclement weather, with her son Carlos and her daughter Juanita by her side. Her new husband,’ the article continued, ‘was a chef, and he had made the wedding cake.’
Mia had choked on nothing to the extent that Gail heard her coughing and came and banged her on the back, then brought her a glass of water.
‘What?’
‘I don’t believe it!’
‘Don’t believe what?’ Gail asked.
‘His mother has married a chef!’
‘Always handy to have a chef in the house,’ Gail had commented. ‘Whose mother?’
Mia took a mouthful of water. ‘Carlos.’
‘Oh, him.’ Gail had shrugged. Carlos had never regained his stellar status in her estimation. ‘I remember her. Small, dark, big hat. Almost regal.’ She’d looked at Mia curiously. ‘Is there anything wrong with marrying a chef, though?’
‘Yes. No, of course not, not in the normal course of events, but—’ Mia had stopped, breathing heavily.
‘That explains that. Yes and no. Clear as mud.’
Mia had to laugh. ‘She...she could be quite snooty.’
* * *
Now, a few weeks after Arancha’s wedding and the day before Mia left, not even Gail was with her.
She’d moved down to Sydney and taken up a position in a top hotel restaurant.
Bill and Lucy were staying on as caretakers and keepers of the garden; Bill was looking forward to having his autonomy handed back to him.
Not even Long John was with her; she’d given him to Harry Castle, the only person apart from her and Gail the horse didn’t bite.
Now don’t get maudlin, she warned herself as the last of the trucks drove off and she had the place more or less to herself. What I’ll do is—play ladies.
She stood up and looked down at herself. She was wearing a long, full floral skirt with a white broderie anglaise blouse. Her hair was tied back in one thick, heavy bunch at the back. She even had a wide-brimmed lacy straw hat which a guest she hadn’t been able to trace had left behind.
She also had a Royal Albert tea service, patterned with roses, one of Bellbird’s heirlooms; she did have tea and a lemon on the tree beside the back door and she did have a kettle.
Ten minutes later, she’d pulled a wicker chair onto the front veranda, she had a small round wicker table beside her and a cup of lemon tea on it as she watched the late afternoon sun cast its lengthening shadows over the summer gardens of Bellbird and Mount Wilson. Her hat lay on a second chair.
She sipped her tea then put her cup down. Breathe this in, she told herself. May some dim deep memory of the lovely peace of Bellbird always be with me. She closed her eyes. May the association it will always hold with Carlos bear no bitter memories for me.
A car drove up.
She had to be dreaming, but didn’t she know the sound of that engine off by heart? Didn’t he always manage to kick up the gravel when he stopped?
She opened her eyes and it was Carlos.
Her hands flew to her mouth. ‘It is you!’ she whispered. ‘I thought I must be dreaming.’
He propped a foot against the bottom step and leant against the rail. He wore cargo pants and a navy shirt. His dark hair was wind-blown; he must have had the car roof down at some stage. And, just at the sight of him, her heart started to beat heavily and her pulse raced. And for a moment she could smell the sea air, hear the surf and see in her mind’s eye the wrinkled ocean below the lighthouse on Cape Byron....
He said, ‘I couldn’t let you go without making sure you were OK.’
He stopped and took in the lovely china on the wicker table beside her, the hat, and he half-smiled. ‘Playing ladies?’
She grimaced. ‘Being silly really, but yes.’
‘Where are you going, Mia?’
‘I...’ She took a breath. ‘To my parents for a while.’
‘I thought they were driving around Australia.’
‘They are. So their house is empty. I can stay as long as I like. But it’ll only be until...’ she plaited her fingers ‘...I get organised again.’
He watched her twining fingers as a faint frown grew in his eyes.
‘So nothing definite in the pipeline at the moment?’
‘Uh...one or two. These things take time to set up, though, Carlos.’ She tried to look casual and unfazed as she said it but the truth of the matter was she had absolutely nothing in the pipeline.
Hard as she’d tried to get motivated and to move her life and her career forward, she hadn’t succeeded—not something she was prepared to admit, however.
‘By the way, I read about your mother!’ she said in a bid to change the subject completely.
‘She surprised the life out of us but they seem to be blissfully happy, even if he is only a chef, although—’ he looked amused ‘—she insists he’s a “celebrity” chef.’ He rubbed his jaw ruefully. ‘And she’s like a different person. Much more contented.’
‘I was going to say good,’ Mia murmured with a tiny smile, ‘but on second thoughts I won’t say a word. Uh—how’s Juanita?’
‘She’s fine. She’s pregnant. Another cause for contentment in our mutual parent.’
Mia smiled. ‘That’s great news.’
‘How are you getting to your parents’ place?’
‘I bought myself a four-wheel-drive station-wagon. I can fit all my stuff into it. I haven’t got that much.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Not Long John, though. Will you send him by horse transport?’ He grinned suddenly. ‘That should be jolly. Does he bite other horses as well as people?’
S
he dimpled and told him about Harry Castle.
‘That’s better,’ he said.
Mia looked enquiringly at him. ‘What?’
‘I haven’t seen those dimples for a while.’
‘They...must come and go. Oh, by the way, I’ve left an inventory of all the china and stuff. You probably should go through it with me now.’
‘No. It doesn’t matter.’
‘But there’s some beautiful stuff.’
‘Help yourself if you want any of it. And so can Bill and Lucy, for that matter, Gail’s mother too.’
‘That’s nice but don’t you...you don’t care about it, do you?’ she hazarded with a look of something like pain in her eyes at the thought of Bellbird being summarily stripped of its treasures, even if they were going to people she knew. Not that they were worth a fortune or anything like that, but they were old and they were lovely.
Carlos straightened and folded his arms. ‘Mia, you didn’t want Bellbird. You couldn’t have made that plainer. So it’s going on the market again. As soon as you leave.’
It was like an arrow going through her heart. She gasped and went white.
He swore under his breath. ‘What did you think I’d do with it? What do you think I ought to do with it?’ he asked harshly.
‘You told me it was nice enough for that to be sufficient reason to buy it.’
‘Not if you’re not going to live on it.’
‘Carlos, I thought it would be safe with you,’ she said passionately. ‘Safe from people who’d tear the house down and put up something modern. Safe from developers and sub-division. You never know when that can happen.’
‘It’s not going to happen up here in the foreseeable future, Mia.’
She subsided but started plaiting her fingers again.
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’
She swallowed and turned her head away.
‘Mia, look at me,’ he commanded softly. ‘Are you?’
‘No.’ She said it barely audibly but quite definitely.
‘Then what are you so upset about? Just leaving here?’
‘I...I was doing fine until you turned up. Indulging in a little gentle melancholy, perhaps—’ she grimaced ‘—but mostly under control. Tell me about you.’
He came up the steps, lifted her hat off the chair and sat down, putting the hat on the floor beside him. ‘Nina married Talbot.’
Mia moved convulsively. ‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why did you let her? Why was there no publicity?’
‘You’d have to ask her why,’ he said dryly. ‘As for letting her, how could I stop her? And, lastly, they tied the knot overseas; in fact, they’ve moved overseas.’
Mia stared at him. ‘But she looked so devastated. That night at Byron.’
‘Nina’s good at that.’
‘But she looked so...I can’t put my finger on why, but she looked so nice, I mean, as if she’s a thoroughly nice person!’
‘She is, most of the time. But buried under that is a too-beautiful-for-her-own-good girl who’s been spoilt rotten.’ He shrugged. ‘You never know, Talbot may just be the one to cope with her. She may even be the one to bring out the best in him. Strangely, I saw them at the airport recently. They looked—’ he gestured ‘—happy.’
‘Are you sick at heart?’ Mia asked. ‘Surely you can tell me.’
He picked up her hat and twirled it around. ‘To be honest, I’m relieved. I know I wasn’t at first, but Talbot always brought out the worst in me.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know if she was on the rebound, I probably will never know, but one thing I do know, I couldn’t have made it work for us. If I hadn’t known that intrinsically I wouldn’t have held out against marrying her for so long.’
Not quite the same as saying he didn’t love her, nor did it mean he didn’t still love her, Mia thought, and wondered what would be worse—to know Nina was unhappy with Talbot, or happy?’
She got up and walked to the edge of the veranda. The hydrangeas that rimmed the veranda and had looked so good in the Wedgwood soup tureen were dying off now. In general, the gardens were on their last summer legs, as Bill put it.
She looked out and shaded her eyes against the sun and she could suddenly visualise the gardens being allowed to run wild, the property being sub-divided, the house being altered or simply neglected and she thought she couldn’t bear it...
‘Would you...w-would you...’ her voice shook ‘...would you consider going into a business partnership with me, Carlos?’
She heard the startled hiss of his breath and steeled herself for rejection, scorn, anger or all three.
‘What do you mean?’ he said harshly.
She turned round slowly and swallowed twice as she tried to marshal her thoughts. ‘I made a small success of the business I ran here, I guess you could say, but it was always a bit of a battle. I only managed to start it with a bank loan and I was always having to plough most of the profits into loan repayments and lease payments. But with a partner, especially one who owned the place, I could really—’ she twisted her hands ‘—go onto bigger and better things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like upgrading the furniture and fittings. They’re starting to get shabby. Like live music, such as a classical quartet for functions, or live jazz or live modern, but really good stuff. Like children’s birthday parties.’ She paused.
He frowned.
‘I mean special parties with a marquee, a carousel, castles, fairies or, for boys, cowboy themes and pony rides. We could set it up in the west paddock. I have a theory that real class attracts real money and I think I could make the Bellbird Estate more than pay its way for you by going really upmarket, but with imagination and...well...’ she looked a bit embarrassed ‘...flair.’
All she could hear in the silence that followed were the bellbirds calling.
‘Another thought I had was a honeymoon suite. There’s a marvellous view from the east paddock. You could build a luxury cottage for the bride and groom to spend their first night in, with open fireplaces and gourmet meals. Is—’ her eyes were wary ‘—there any point in me going on?’
‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘If that’s how you want it, so be it. I’ll get the paperwork drawn up.’ He stood up and handed her the hat. ‘You can unpack, Miss Gardiner.’
Mia stared up at him with her heart in her mouth because something was radically different about him. It was as if a shutter had come down and she couldn’t read him anymore except to see how cold his eyes were now.
‘Carlos,’ she said involuntarily, then stopped and bit her lip.
‘Mia?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were saying?’
‘I...no, nothing,’ she stammered.
‘Nothing,’ he repeated. He lifted a hand and touched his knuckles to the point of her chin. ‘Nothing’s changed, I guess. I’ll be in touch. Or Carol will.’ And he moved past her, jogged down the steps and, minutes later, his car roared away.
‘What have I done?’ Mia asked aloud. ‘Oh, what have I done?’
CHAPTER NINE
SIX MONTHS LATER Mia and Gail were engaged in a conference about an upcoming function—a christening.
Mia had not so much pinched Gail from her upmarket job, she’d welcomed her back with open arms. Gail had been miserable down in Sydney.
The first thing Mia had done, after gathering herself together following her encounter with Carlos on the day before she’d been supposed to leave, had been to advertise and send out flyers to previous customers to the effect that the Bellbird Estate was reopening shortly after some renovations and with some new attractions.
For the next couple of months her life had been spent on the redecorating trail and consulting with architects, designers and builders.
The house had been finished first and it was gratifying to find she was almost booked up for the first month.
Then the honeymoon suite had been completed and their first couple to spend the first night of their mar
riage in it were so impressed they’d wanted to stay on.
The children’s party arena and marquee wasn’t quite finished but was on its way. They’d called it Noah’s Ark and, as well as a wooden ark you could fit thirty kids into, there were all sorts of wooden and plush animals, teddies, rocking horses, wombats and koala bears and Mia’s favourites, white unicorns, all two by two.
But through it all she hadn’t laid eyes on Carlos.
He’d been as good as his word; he’d been, despite keeping an eye on all her ideas, good to work with, except she hadn’t worked with him at all. It had been done entirely at second hand through his secretary, Carol, and a variety of construction staff.
Mia had wondered if she’d be expected to cater for any O’Connor Construction functions but she had not.
Now, though, she was about to be thrown in at the deep end, as she thought of it. She’d been asked to put on the christening party for Juanita’s baby.
‘Make that babies,’ she said faintly to Gail when she put the phone down on Carlos’s half-sister. ‘She’s had twins!’
Gail started to laugh. ‘It’s all right; I don’t suppose they’ll have to have twin parties. But tell me what she wants.’
‘Well, the actual baptism is to take place in the local church. Then she wants a light luncheon here in the house or garden, depending on the weather. And then, because there’ll be quite a few kids, she wants them to go down to Noah’s Ark.’
‘You’ve been wanting to give Noah a test run. Now’s your chance. How long have we got to prepare for this bash?’
‘A month. We don’t have to worry about a christening cake—the twins’ step-grandfather will make it.’
Gail grinned mischievously. ‘I told you it was handy to have a chef in the family.’
‘So you did.’ Mia rotated her pencil between her fingers and fell silent.
‘How about their uncle?’ Gail asked after a time.
Mia looked up with her eyebrows raised.
‘Carlos?’ Gail elucidated somewhat sardonically. ‘The guy you got yourself all tied up in knots about, remember?’
‘I didn’t,’ Mia said mechanically.
The Return of Her Past Page 12
