Lily's Scandal

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Lily's Scandal Page 13

by Marion Lennox


  And Lily thought, Whoa.

  ‘So … he’s like you,’ she said.

  ‘He learned his lessons the way I learned mine. We don’t depend on people.’

  ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘You don’t. But you do care for people.’

  ‘Of course I care.’

  ‘So kissing me now …’

  ‘Wasn’t such a good idea. Call it the culmination of one heck of a day.’

  ‘I’d call it a lot more,’ she said frankly. ‘I’ve never felt like you made me feel just then. All wobbly at the knees.’

  ‘You were wobbly at the knees before.’

  ‘I was,’ she admitted. ‘But, then, I met you four days ago. My knees have been wobbly ever since.’

  ‘Not because of me.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lily …’

  ‘I know—it was an aberration.’ She sighed. ‘You’re right, we’re grown-up people and you have your independence and I have my mother. So the intersection of two worlds is impossible—except that we’re still pretending it’s possible.’ She cocked her head to one side and considered. ‘Luke, the way I’m feeling …’

  ‘Wobbly kneed?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘And it’s not just gastro and Tom that’s made them wobble. There’s something about the way you make me feel … I know it’s dumb but I can’t help it and four weeks staying here … I think the sensible thing is for me to stay at the farm. Tom may well need four weeks of rehabilitation. I’m used to commuting a lot further than Tarrawalla. I can stay there happily until it’s time to go back to Lighhouse Cove.’

  ‘You can’t go back to Lighthouse Cove.’

  ‘I don’t have a choice.’ Her flash of being in control faded and she backed until she was leaning on the settee. She really was feeling wobbly.

  ‘It’s time you walked away from your mother.’

  ‘And here’s me thinking it’s time you walked towards your Uncle Tom.’

  ‘He doesn’t need me.’

  ‘He does. He just doesn’t admit it.’

  ‘And your mother admits it all the time.’

  ‘At least I know where I stand.’

  ‘Tied by the apron strings.’

  ‘Don’t,’ she said wearily. ‘I know she’s difficult, but I’ve tried walking away in the past and I feel worse than if I stay. I loved my dad …’

  ‘This is not your dad.’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘It’s past history. A promise made when you were twelve.’

  ‘As your wife’s death is past history,’ she said softly. ‘And the panic about losing people. It’s not as easy as it sounds; ignoring history.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So I can go to the farm.’

  ‘You can go to bed.’

  ‘Luke—’

  ‘Enough,’ he said roughly. ‘Rest and then pie and leave any other decisions until morning. I’ll fetch the pie on the way back. And no opening the door to visitors. I’ve had enough nosy-parkers in my life this weekend.’

  ‘Am I included in that?’

  ‘No,’ he said roughly. ‘Or at least … I’m not sure where you’re included and I’m not sure I want to find out.’

  He went back to the wards. Contrary to what he’d told Lily, his registrar was excellent. Evening visiting hours were in full swing. No patients wanted or needed to see him.

  He ended up in Intensive Care. Tom was looking more stable by the moment but was fast asleep. Judy popped in; they discussed muscle and nerve damage, the need for rehab, and Judy’s pride at how little residual damage she expected.

  It was such a far call from where they’d been at midday, Luke felt dizzy.

  ‘With the drugs I’ve given him, I doubt he’ll surface until tomorrow,’ Judy said. ‘You needn’t stand by his bed worrying he’ll wake in pain. I promise it won’t happen. You need to get back to Lily.’

  ‘I …’

  ‘She’s a great girl,’ Judy said softly. ‘The whole hospital’s happy for you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He couldn’t think what else to say.

  ‘Will you stay at the farm and commute while Tom’s in here? I gather that’s where Lily’s been hiding. Is her mother such a horror?’

  Whoa … Evie. Surely she hadn’t …

  ‘This hospital has ears,’ she said, grinning at the expression on his face. ‘I was up seeing Hank Oliver in Six South, just about to walk out of his door, when I heard you and Evie talking.’ She hesitated. ‘What you said about Finn, too. It’s not only Evie who’s worried.’

  ‘Nerve damage through drinking?’

  ‘Unlikely,’ she said. ‘But possible. He’d never let me near to check.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘Yeah, well, good luck with that one,’ she said. ‘Do your best. He might be an ill-tempered grouch but he’s our ill-tempered grouch, and he’s a fine surgeon. So … off to pack for the farm?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because of Lily’s mother?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Okay, none of my business,’ Judy said, raising her hands in surrender. ‘It doesn’t help, though. You know as well as I do that keeping things to yourself in this hospital is impossible. Seemingly you’ve kept Lily to yourself for years but now you have every nose in this hospital twitching and they won’t stop twitching until All Is Revealed.’ She grinned and picked up her notes. ‘Good luck and goodnight and welcome to the world of exposure. You know, it doesn’t actually hurt. Sometimes it’s even a power for good.’

  He went back to the apartment. To Lily. They ate pie. They watched the grand finale of Eurovision on TV, one amazing, Lycra-clad act after another. Lily giggled.

  He listened to Lily giggle and felt … like he needed not to feel.

  Lily went to bed and closed the door behind her. He slept—badly—on the settee.

  In the morning he woke at dawn, wrote Lily a note and left for the farm. He’d do what needed to be done and be back by lunchtime. Then he’d check on Tom, and spend the afternoon in his office catching up on medico-legal work. His day was thus mapped out, without Lily.

  He reached the farm as the early morning sun was still glistening through the trees. The leaves were wet with dew. The mountains were majestic in the background, the creek was rippling across the stones, the kookaburras were greeting the day and he felt the familiar tug of love he always had whenever he reached this place.

  So why didn’t he commute?

  His uncle didn’t want him to.

  Or he didn’t want to?

  He thought back to the first lot of school holidays he’d spent at the farm, ten years old, and desperately lonely. It had been his first term break.

  ‘It’s too short a time to come home,’ his mother had told him. ‘Maybe you can come back here in summer.’

  Maybe. The word had left him feeling sick.

  He’d been the only kid left in the boarding house. The boarding master had been kind, but even Luke had been able to see he hadn’t wanted him there. Finally, with a bravery that he still didn’t believe he’d possessed, he’d rung an uncle he’d only heard of in conversation. ‘I don’t want to stay here …’ He’d struggled not to cry but he hadn’t succeeded.

  ‘Your father doesn’t want me messing in what’s not my business,’ his uncle had snapped, and hung up, but the next day his battered truck had pulled up outside the boarding house.

  ‘The kid’ll be better at my place,’ he’d told the boarding master, and had broken every rule in the book by simply loading Luke into the cab of the truck and leaving without parental permission.

  Back at the farm Tom had barely spoken. He’d shown Luke a bedroom and told him he was expected to look after himself.

  The next day he’d given him a colt and shown him how to train him. Checkers. Luke’s life had looked up from that moment.

  But rough kindness apart, they’d lived separate lives. Tom had barely spoken to him, but at the end of each term—and finally most weekends—the tr
uck would turn up at school and Luke would find himself back at the farm. The deal was Luke didn’t get in Tom’s way and Tom didn’t get in his. When Luke had been able to afford it he’d bought the place next door, which Tom seemed to approve of, even if he only signified it by a grunt.

  Today’s outburst by Tom, his approval of Lily, his story of an old love affair … that had been the most he’d heard from Tom, ever.

  He’d held Tom up as an example. How to live without needing people.

  Maybe it was an illusion.

  Was it okay to admit to needing people? Needing Lily?

  No. He didn’t need Lily, he knew that.

  But maybe Lily needed him.

  He could keep her safe.

  Right. Like he’d kept Hannah safe.

  Lily on Glenfiddich … The fear …

  He wasn’t making sense, even to himself. He raked his hair and wondered what he was doing staring at mountains when there was work to be done. He needed to head over to Tom’s and feed the dogs. He need to check the cattle, put out the hay, check the horses.

  And tomorrow?

  Lily had offered to come up here. She was working nights. She could be here in the daytime, he could be here at night. Every night.

  But … it seemed dangerous, just as it had when he’d first bought this place and wondered whether he could commute.

  ‘Every night,’ Tom had said, startled. ‘What would you want to do that for? Your work’s your life, boy. Don’t you forget it.’

  He’d forgotten it for a bit, and his work had killed Hannah.

  His head felt like it was going round in circles. To let Lily come up here, day after day, to be here by herself …

  It wasn’t going to happen. He’d speak to Patty, employ one of her sons, get on with his life.

  He headed off to feed the cattle, knowing he had a fight on his hands. He’d known Lily for, what, four days, and already he knew she wouldn’t take this lying down.

  She had to accept it. This was none of her business. The plan was she was to stay in his apartment for four weeks. Period.

  He needed to stay in control. He needed to keep Tom’s wishes in mind. He needed to maintain independence for both of them.

  Despite Lily.

  Plans didn’t always come off, especially when three people were making them and Luke was only one of three. On Tuesday morning Lily finished work, took her suitcase from Luke’s apartment and headed for the farm. Luke had no say. She’d organised it directly with Tom.

  ‘I know you don’t want me on your place,’ she told Luke. ‘So I won’t be on your place. You’ve organised Patty’s son to feed the animals. He can keep on looking after your place but Tom’s asked me to look after his. I’m sleeping at his house. This is an arrangement between me and Tom so, as you’re very keen on saying, butt out, it’s none of your business.’

  ‘You can’t commute.’ She was looking better but she was still pale. Still too thin. A weekend of bullying her to eat could only achieve so much.

  ‘Yes, I can,’ she said. ‘You could too if you wanted, but you needn’t worry. All the hospital knows why I’m doing what I’m doing, and they all think our love affair’s still going strong. Knowing I’m helping Tom just adds to their belief that ours is a truly authentic love affair. With you working days and me working nights, and me living at the farm and you here, we can have a love affair without ever seeing each other. That’s just the way you like it.’

  Just the way he liked it. It wasn’t. Neither did he like it that he saw Lily only in passing, as she arrived or left for work, or when he chanced on her in Tom’s ward. It wasn’t enough.

  Tom was recovering well, accepting the need for rehabilitation, knowing he wouldn’t be back at the farm for weeks. He was tickled pink that Lily was staying in his house.

  Lily was making him talk. A week after the accident Luke walked in on Tom in the rehabilitation ward and Tom was chuckling.

  Tom didn’t chuckle. He was a recluse. A loner. But there was something about Lily …

  ‘You didn’t go up to the farm for the weekend,’ Tom said accusingly.

  ‘I was on call.’

  It was Monday morning. Lily must be about to go off duty. She was wearing her agency uniform. She looked neat and prim and cute.

  The farm must be doing her good, he thought. She looked much more relaxed than she had last week. She’d gained a bit of colour. Maybe she’d been riding one of Tom’s horses.

  Not Glenfiddich. The thought of her on his half-wild colt when she was on her own on the farm was unthinkable. He’d made her promise not to go near.

  ‘You needn’t worry,’ she’d said. ‘I get the boundary thing. Over your boundary I will not step.’

  But Tom had horses, too. Was she riding them with no one around?

  He wanted to ask.

  He knew she’d react with anger.

  He stood in the doorway and thought about retreating.

  ‘Hey,’ Tom said. ‘Luke. You want to see me walk?’

  There was no retreating from a statement like that. He watched as his uncle proudly manoeuvred the walking frame to the door, then let it go, held the rail along the corridor and made it all the way along to the nurses’ station.

  He and Lily stood side by side, like two proud parents. Lily clapped him on.

  As Tom reached the end, he glanced down and Lily was smiling and sniffing back tears.

  She’d only known Tom for a week. She was that involved?

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ she whispered.

  And he thought, Yes, it is. And, yes, she was. But to wear her heart on her sleeve … didn’t she understand about being hurt?

  Didn’t she understand how much love hurt?

  ‘Tom’s enjoying this,’ she said softly, as Tom inched his way back to them. ‘Despite his leg. He’s making friends. Are you sure he really wants to be a loner?’

  ‘He’s made a good fist of it if he doesn’t.’

  ‘Maybe he’s just good at disguising need,’ she told him, and went back to encouraging Tom.

  Tom was trying so hard, Luke thought, and then he thought I’d try hard, too, if Lily was expecting it of me.

  ‘I have tomorrow off,’ Lily was telling Tom. ‘If the physio okays it, would you like me to take you to Coogee? Do you know it? I’ve only just discovered it; it’s the most gorgeous little beach only twenty minutes from here. We could do your exercises in the ocean baths. Fun!’

  Fun? This was Tom she was talking to, Luke thought. Tom didn’t do fun.

  But Tom was looking at Lily with delight. ‘Ocean baths?’

  ‘Rock pools,’ she said. ‘They’re fabulous. What if I pick you up at ten?’

  ‘You’ll need help getting into the water,’ Luke said, and then, before he knew it, he found himself offering. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I don’t want you bothering with me,’ Tom growled—but he hadn’t said that to Lily.

  ‘It’s okay. I can arrange time off.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Lily told him. ‘Tom and I will manage. Meanwhile, I’m off to the farm to sleep.’ She kissed Tom, an extraordinary gesture to Tom, who treated invasion of privacy with horror. ‘I haven’t slept so well in years as on your farm. It’ll be hard when I have to leave.’

  ‘Maybe you could stay,’ Tom said, to Luke’s further shock. ‘I mean … you need somewhere to board, right?’

  ‘I’ll be returning to Lighthouse Cove,’ Lily said, sounding regretful. ‘But it’s a lovely offer. Thank you.’

  She left—and Tom watched her go with regret.

  ‘Do something,’ he snapped. ‘She’s gold. You’d seriously let her go back to this Lighthouse Cove she talks about?’

  ‘I don’t have a choice,’ Luke said. ‘It’s her business.’

  ‘Bunkum. It’s our business. I made a fool of myself once, and you messed around with that selfish woman you married. But this time … If I was forty years younger …’ He shoved himself from the corridor railing
and lurched toward his walking frame, only just managing to grab it. ‘Leave me be,’ he growled as Luke moved to help. ‘Go after your woman if you want something to do. Her business? A man’d be mad to think that.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  AT TEN on Tuesday Lily arrived at the Harbour to take Tom to the beach.

  She was growing really fond of Tom.

  So much for anonymity, she thought ruefully as she passed through the hospital on the way to Tom’s ward. She’d come to Sydney aching to be a nobody and here she was, involved up to her neck. She was part of the Harbour team. She was Tom’s friend. She was Luke’s pretend lover.

  But her involvement was an illusion, she thought as she was greeted by staff members all through the hospital. It was a part of the deception that was her relationship with Luke, but at the same time it was a taste of something she’d never known.

  Until now, gossip had seemed vicious and hurtful. Here it was a way of life. A part of belonging. The Harbour was closing round her, enfolding her as one of its own, and the sensation was extraordinary.

  At Lighthouse Cove she’d been the daughter of a man who’d died owing money to half the town and of a woman whose morals were questionable. She’d been shunned as a ‘bad lot’ all through her teen years. During her training in Adelaide, at the end of every shift she’d faced the long drive back to Lighthouse Cove. She hadn’t had time to join in social fun. She was considered an outsider. She was used to being an outsider. When she’d come here what she’d wanted was to be anonymous, but now …

  She was a member of the Harbour team.

  Tom’s friend.

  Luke’s lover.

  The concept of belonging was an illusion, she told herself savagely. It had to end but it was messing with her head. It was like a siren song, dragging her in.

  Luke had it for real, she thought, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t know how lucky he was. She had to go back to Lighthouse Cove. She had to leave Luke and everyone around him.

  She walked into Tom’s ward—and Luke was there.

  Both men were casually dressed. Tom was already settled into a wheelchair. Luke had a bag full of beach-towels slung over his shoulder. They looked relaxed and happy and ready to go.

  They took her breath away.

 

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