The Road to Hope

by Rachael Johns

  She laughed. ‘It’s weird that you know Frank.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Well, not weird exactly, but here I am eating breakfast with a total stranger and yet he knows my brother very well.’

  ‘I’m hoping we won’t be strangers for long, Lauren.’

  ‘Actually, I’m leaving soon, so you’ll have the house to yourself.’

  His fork paused on the way to his mouth. ‘Leaving? As in leaving town?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m handing in my notice tomorrow. Two weeks and I’ll be out of here.’

  ‘Okay then. Sorry, that’s just a surprise. The way Frank talks you sounded pretty settled here.’

  She sighed. ‘Which is why it’s time to move on. I’m in a rut. I need to get out of my comfort zone, meet new people, try new things.’ Mostly, she wanted to get away from her reputation, but right now her hormones were working hard against that wish. She shoved another mouthful of pancake in, trying to concentrate on the battery sugary goodness instead of the hunky man in front of her. Two weeks might sound like a short time but if she had to spend it in such close proximity to a near-naked Tom Lewis and not even bat an eyelid in his direction, it was going to feel like a lifetime.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Tom smiled and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘We’ll just have to make the most of these next fourteen days, hey?’

  As Tom looked at Lauren, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson and he decided she might just be the most gorgeous woman he’d ever met. Even in flannel pyjamas, she looked like a Victoria’s Secret model. The traces of last night’s make-up smeared across her face should have been a turn-off, but instead they made her look thoroughly ravaged. He only wished he’d been the one to make her look that way. If the thought of getting between her sheets had appealed last night, it seemed like the best idea he’d ever had now.

  She flicked her long hair over her shoulder. ‘I’ll be pretty busy packing and looking for a new job, and I do a fair few evening shifts, so we’ll probably hardly ever see each other.’

  ‘I hope that’s not the case.’ Since their misunderstanding last night, she’d been nice enough but he still got the feeling she had something against him. Could she have had a bad experience with a locum doctor in the past? Was she already attached to someone else? Or was it that he was Frank’s mate and she didn’t want to get cosy with one of her brother’s friends? He wasn’t used to having to work hard to woo a woman, but he liked the idea of chasing Lauren. ‘In fact, maybe you should let me know your roster and I’ll cook those nights you’re late.’

  She took a moment to finish her mouthful, then shook her head. ‘Thanks, but that’s not necessary. If I work late, I usually just take a salad or a sandwich to the hospital and—’

  Ignoring her objection, he interrupted. ‘We also need to come to some arrangement about board.’

  She blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘I plan to pay my way.’

  ‘Oh, there’s really no need. Any friend of Frank’s is a friend of mine.’

  He hoped they could be a little more than friends. ‘Thanks, but I’m not taking no for an answer. Either you agree to let me cook for you or I pay board. Unless there’s some other way you’d prefer me to compensate you?’ He grinned, unable to resist teasing her.

  Her eyes widened and she almost choked on her juice. Trying to tame his smile, Tom leapt up and rushed around the table to assist her. He put his hand upon her back. ‘Are you okay? Was it something I said?’

  She shook her head furiously as she looked up at him. Although she’d recovered, he left his hand firmly against the small of her back. Her skin was warm under the flannel. It would be so easy to slide his hand under and touch it.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she all but spat, moving her chair and herself out of his reach.

  ‘You sure?’ He gazed at her, searching her eyes for answers to her reaction. She was like a scatty neurotic cat, on edge and waiting for him to pull her tail.

  ‘Yes, sorry.’ She took another sip of her drink and placed her other hand against her chest. ‘I’m just tired. Yesterday was a long day and I’m…I’m just not myself. Thank you for the delicious breakfast, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself and go get dressed.’ She was already pushing back her chair. ‘See you later.’

  He spoke as she headed for the door. ‘Got any exciting plans for the day?’ He didn’t officially start work until tomorrow, the sun was shining brightly outside and he wouldn’t mind a local tour guide.

  ‘Um…’ She hesitated in the doorway and slowly turned her head to look back at him. ‘I’ll probably take a nap and get started packing. Lots of stuff to sort through. You know how it is.’

  He nodded. He’d gone through all his stuff before he started travelling and ditched everything bar the bare minimum—it was actually a very liberating feeling, realising you didn’t need so many possessions. The last few months had changed his outlook on life in more than one way and if he looked at it logically, it wasn’t all bad.

  ‘If you need any help, I’m an expert in the art of packing.’ He offered her another one of his practised smiles, a smile his mother joked was a gift from God—and one he knew exactly how to work to his advantage.

  Unfortunately Lauren appeared to be totally unaffected. She returned his fully-fledged smile with an almost cold one. ‘Thanks, but I’ll be right. See you later.’

  As she rushed from the room as if she couldn’t bear to spend another moment in his company, another thought struck him. Maybe she wasn’t attracted to men? Her brother had never given him that impression but that didn’t mean anything. On the rare occasions he and Frank saw each other these days, most of their conversations revolved around work or Frank’s latest conquests. Apparently overseas on the aid project there was many a young female nurse or doctor happy to scratch his itch. And sex with no strings attached was exactly the kind Frank Simpson wanted.

  Until recently, Tom had never understood Frank’s reluctance to make a commitment. He had met Lisa, his ex-fiancée, in the second year of med school and had been happily faithful all the time they were together. The sex was great, her company stimulating and they both shared the same values and life goals. They were going to get married and have children, and Tom couldn’t wait to form the kind of family he’d had growing up—a family who enjoyed hanging out with each other. The thought of having kids with Lisa, of becoming a dad, had appealed far more than the idea of hopping from one woman’s bed to the next.

  Frank said he enjoyed his freedom, but Tom had enjoyed being wanted, needed and loved.

  Still staring after Lauren, Tom shook his head to clear those depressing thoughts and started to collect the used plates from the table. He dumped them on the bench and then scooped up a piece of cold but still crunchy bacon. As he took a bite, he realised Lauren hadn’t told him why she was a vegetarian, and the worrying thing was, he really wanted to know.

  It shouldn’t matter why Lauren was a vegetarian, why she wore god-awful flannel pyjamas, or anything else for that matter. His days of making emotional connections were over. He needed to harden up and find like-minded women who only wanted him for one thing—sex. He might not be in the market for commitment anymore, but that didn’t mean becoming a monk. What was that saying Frank always spouted?

  He was in it for a fun time, not a long time.

  Chapter Five

  Lauren closed her bedroom door and slumped down onto the floor. ‘Well, that was the most awkward breakfast ever,’ she said to nobody. Since living alone she’d taken to talking to herself, and since Whitney had gotten married and become obsessed with having babies, it appeared there was no one else to listen to her anyway. Although she’d miss her best friend when she left Hope Junction, it would be good to get away and make new friends, maybe some who were single like herself.

  Staring up at the ceiling, she groaned at the recollection of Tom’s hand on her back. She’d been doing quite well until he’d made that crack about offering her another for
m of payment instead of board. Oh, how her imagination had rejoiced at that suggestion, taking its usual nosedive to the gutter. She’d immediately conjured up images of the two of them in bed together, whiling away the hours when neither of them were at work with a lot of hot and raunchy sex.

  One look at him and she knew he’d be good in bed—she had a sixth sense about that kind of thing—but he was a travelling doctor, obviously not in the market for a lifelong commitment. Not surprising, considering he was good friends with Frank. She loved her brother more than anyone in the world, but even she could see his weaknesses, willingness to have sex with almost anyone in a skirt being one of them.

  She couldn’t pass judgment though—she’d never exactly been a nun herself—but what people didn’t understand was that she had the best intentions. Totally opposite to Frank’s. Optimism was her fatal flaw. Whenever she met a guy she liked enough to sleep with, she couldn’t see the point in waiting. Within five minutes of meeting him she was already imagining happily-ever-afters. She wanted to make them happy, whereas they were only interested in getting in her pants. Not that she didn’t enjoy that part—sex had always been fun and good for her—but the desire, the deep yearning for more, was getting stronger and stronger. Sex without commitment no longer left her satisfied for long.

  Thus the decision to change her ways and fight any attraction until she was certain she’d found a man who wanted the same things as her and was in it for the long haul. But maybe that was going to be harder than she first imagined.

  The horrid truth was that she didn’t know how to act normal around good-looking guys. Flirting was her normal; it came naturally to her, whereas being quiet and reserved definitely did not. Yet she’d been so intent on not flirting with Tom that she’d bordered on rude. As she went over their breakfast conversation in her head, she suddenly realised she hadn’t even offered to help clean up. Argh! He’d gone to the effort of cooking her an amazing meal and she’d been anything but appreciative. What must he think of her?

  The fact of the matter was, she needed to find a balance between being standoffish and throwing herself at him. Maybe friendship would work. Lauren took that thought into the shower with her. But she’d been in there less than ten seconds before her torrid mind started to wander. She recalled how hot Tom had looked fresh out of the shower, and then her vivid imagination rewound a little until she was panting under the shards of water, pretending they were in the small space together.

  She fantasised about her hands traversing the naked, wet planes of his deliciously sculpted body and imagined his large, skilful hands tracing across her curves. Her insides began to quiver as desire rose within her. She found herself reaching down between her legs and pulled her hand back just in the nick of time.

  She was not going to finger herself while thinking about Tom Lewis. Absolutely not. Utterly disgusted with herself, she turned the hot tap off and blasted herself with a sharp shot of cold before stepping out of the shower. It was clear she was going to have to find an alternative way to expend her energies today, so she decided to do exactly what she’d told Tom she would.

  Wrapping a towel around herself, she hurried back down the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief when she made it into her bedroom without a glimpse of her house guest. After tugging on the longest denim shorts she could find and the most modest t-shirt in her wardrobe—neither very long nor very modest—she slid her suitcase out from under the bed and began the mammoth task of sorting through her clothes.

  Five hours later she was hungry, hot, exhausted and surrounded by bags of outfits she’d decided to send to the Salvos. Said bags held the old Lauren’s attire, and unfortunately without them her wardrobe had been reduced to the point where she’d need to do some online shopping pronto. The funny thing was that while going through her clothes she’d begun to see them as other people might. For someone who’d recently turned thirty, her skirts were all on the overly short side and most of her tops were tight and low cut.

  Her mum had always said, ‘if you’ve got it, you should flaunt it.’ But Ellie never did—flaunt it, that is—and in the end, she’d been the one to get the guy. As much as Lauren despised the idea of taking cues from Ellie, she wanted what Ellie and Whitney had; guys who loved and respected them. And if that meant dressing a little more demurely, so be it. She wasn’t naïve enough to think a wardrobe makeover would miraculously change her life, but it was a symbolic reminder of her decision to change.

  Still, there was only so much packing and sorting one woman could handle in one day, so at two o’clock Lauren decided to venture out, grab a bite to eat and then head to the pool for a little bit of a cool down. In this weather, half the town would be there. They would all be still talking about Ellie and Flynn’s wedding but she could take a book, have a quick dip and then find a quiet spot to while away the arvo.

  She opened her bedroom door and stilled a moment, listening for sounds of Tom. The house was eerily quiet so she pattered down the hallway towards the kitchen. His bedroom door was open and she couldn’t resist a glimpse inside as she passed. He wasn’t in there, but spilling out of a wash bag on his bed were a number of tablet boxes and pill bottles. She resisted the urge to creep into the bedroom and peruse the packaging but she couldn’t help wondering what they were all for. Was he sick? Or did he have an addiction problem?

  He didn’t look ill. His tanned skinned and hard body looked the epitome of good health, but she knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  There were only so many crosswords and logic puzzles a man could do and it didn’t appear Lauren was going to venture out of her room any time soon. Without her around, the Simpsons’ house—with its fancy antique ornaments—didn’t feel very warm. Bored out of his brain with only the company of his puzzle books and bad Sunday television, Tom had decided to go into the surgery and get himself acquainted with everything before tomorrow. Although he never stayed anywhere too long, he liked to feel at home when he worked, so alongside the photo of Hannah Bates’ Siamese cats he placed a couple of frames of his own; one of his sisters and his two adorable nieces, and one of him with his mum and dad a few years back, just before he’d finished uni. The world had seemed like everyone’s oyster back then and they all had happy smiles permanently set upon their faces.

  He stared at the photos for a few long moments—thinking it was about time to make that phone call—but as usual, he made excuses to put it off till later. Instead, he looked through the list of appointments he had for Monday and took out the files of the first few patients. It wasn’t the most riveting reading material but he liked to be prepared, especially these days. However, after a few files, without the air-conditioning on in the surgery—he didn’t want to waste power when he was only one there—he started to sweat. His mind drifted to the swimming pool he’d seen on his drive through town yesterday. It might not be as good as the ocean, but it was the next best thing on a day like today.

  ‘I can’t believe this weather.’ Whitney sighed and fanned her face with the magazine she’d been reading. ‘Any hotter and there’ll be a bloody harvest ban. That’s just what we need.’

  Lauren leaned back on her towel and took a sip of her Diet Coke, trying to summon a sympathetic smile. ‘It is hot for November.’ She couldn’t believe they were talking about the weather—they sounded like a couple of bored, middle-aged housewives—but she supposed it was better than rehashing Ellie’s wedding.

  Usually she loved hanging out with Whitney but today she was tetchy and she simply wanted to be alone with her plans for the future. In hindsight, the local swimming pool on the hottest November day in years probably wasn’t the best place to achieve this.

  ‘I’m moving,’ she said out of the blue. Anything to change the subject.

  ‘You’re what?’ Whitney shot into a sitting position from where she’d been lying back on her towel.

  Feeling slightly smug for shocking her friend, Lauren explained. ‘I feel like my life has stalemated here. May
be I’ve grown out of living in a small town.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Whitney looked wounded. ‘I live here. Have you grown out of me too?’

  ‘Of course not. I’m sorry.’ That wasn’t fair, and she felt a little bad for making Hope Junction, which she loved with all her heart, sound dull. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll miss you, but I’m ready for a change. I need to get experience outside of a small town hospital. I’ve nursed in Hope Junction since I left uni almost ten years ago. Maybe I should go back and do some more study. Specialise in something.’

  ‘Oh my God, you’re serious.’ Whitney grabbed Lauren’s hand. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  A lump forming in her throat, Lauren nodded. Whitney was her best friend in the world, but she didn’t feel like she could share her deepest fear even with her. She was afraid that if she stayed in Hope Junction forever, she’d never be able to escape people’s opinion of her. No matter what life changes she made, she’d always be Lauren The Tart.

  ‘We’ll talk all the time and I might not go too far,’ she promised, making sure not to mention her thoughts about going overseas to join Frank. Her decision was less than a day old; she had plenty of time to fine tune the details.

  ‘Is this because of Flynn and Ellie?’

  Dammit, she should have known the conversation would turn to them. Even while they were out of town on their peachy-perfect honeymoon, the world still revolved around Ellie. ‘No!’ A few nearby heads turned so she lowered her voice. ‘Okay, I admit, it hurt watching him marry her, but they’re obviously meant to be together.’ Surely admitting that showed strength of character.

  Whitney nodded glumly. ‘They are. And you know, Ellie’s not all that bad once you give her a chance.’

  ‘Maybe.’ But Lauren didn’t want to give her a chance. She wanted to move on, go some place where people didn’t know anything about her or her past. The wedding might have been the instigator, however her decision was about much more than that. ‘But she’s just snapped up the last available guy in town.’ That was a slight overstatement, but the pickings of leftover men in her age bracket were slim. ‘It might not be women’s lib to admit it, but I want what you have. I want to meet some guy who looks at me like I’m the only woman on the planet, who wants to spend time with me, not just my body. I want to have a family. And I have to concede that’s not gonna happen here.’