‘I never told you Luke Fairburn was hot.’
‘No, but you’ve let his name slip more than once and coming from you that’s a huge deal, Sal. Don’t forget how well I know you, girlfriend.’
Too true.
Sally knew she was lucky to have a friend like Megan. Not only had they known each other forever, but Megan’s boyfriend Barney was an electrician working on a fly-in fly-out job at one of the mines, which meant Megan was often a singleton like Sally and they could hang out together.
Now a brisk sea breeze blew across the bay and whipped at Sally’s hair as she frantically scrolled back through her recent conversations with her oldest and closest friend. She thought she’d been super-careful, answering Megan’s probing interrogations without giving away a single vital clue about Luke.
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Megan prompted smugly.
‘No, you’re way off.’ Annoyed, Sally bent down, picked up a stick and called to their dogs racing up the beach ahead of them. ‘Here, Indigo! Here, Jess! Fetch!’
She tossed the stick high and the dogs went crazy.
But Megan wouldn’t be put off. ‘So, what are you trying to suggest, Sal? That this Luke guy is ugly? Or a figment of my imagination?’
Sally sighed. ‘You’ve certainly embellished him with your fertile imagination. I’m simply writing a story about a homestead near Charters Towers.’
‘And Luke Fairburn happens to be working on the homestead?’
‘Yes,’ Sally snapped. She certainly wouldn’t tell Megan there was a very good chance she’d have to drop the story because the vibes between them were just too awkward.
‘But he also has a granny at the same nursing home as yours?’
‘It’s not as if there’s a huge choice of nursing homes around here. It’s no big deal.’
‘Okay, okay.’
A testy silence fell as the girls walked on towards Pallarenda, their bare feet sinking into the warm, damp sand while the waters of Rowes Bay kept up a slow and lazy slap, slap, slap . . .
It was a beautiful afternoon. A fringe of palms and she-oaks shielded the beach from the road and the sky was softening from blue to mauve. Children played on swings in a nearby park. Cyclists whizzed along a bike track. Sally and Megan and their dogs had the sandy beach almost to themselves, and it was too lovely and tranquil to spoil with uncomfortable conversations.
‘But you did meet Luke at the ball?’ Megan slid this question in slyly, just as Sally was beginning to relax.
Sally choked back a groan. If she got too angry, Megan was sure to smell a rat. ‘I met him briefly,’ she said, keeping her voice carefully calm.
‘And he is hot-looking.’
At this, Sally did groan. She couldn’t help it. ‘I’ve never said a thing about his looks. To be honest, I haven’t really taken much notice.’
Megan snorted. ‘Come on, Sal. A crocodile wouldn’t swallow that.’
Hastily, Sally switched her gaze out to sea. It would be disastrous to catch her friend’s eye while she lied about Luke. ‘He’s not my type.’
‘What type is he then?’
The dangerous type, who can make a girl swoon just by threatening to kiss her.
Sally forced a shrug. ‘Oh, you know – rural.’
‘Ahh . . . the outdoorsy and athletic, horse-whispering type?’
‘I guess.’ Sally concentrated on the view out to sea where the soft hills of Magnetic Island rose from the still waters of the bay, while further to the north she could just make out the faint outline of Palm Island. The whole scene was bathed in the lilac and pink streaks of the sunset. It was beautiful, and it should have been soothing.
‘It’s on, isn’t it?’ Megan said softly. ‘You and Luke. Sal, you know I’d keep it to myself. And you know, if it’s true, I couldn’t be happier.’
‘Will you shut the fuck up?’
Megan gasped.
Looked hurt.
Sally gasped too. ‘Sorry,’ she said quickly, but it was too late and she felt bad.
Megan was understandably quiet as they walked on, her shoulders hunched and her mouth set in a downward curve. When Indigo brought the stick up to them again, it was Megan who threw it for the dogs, while Sally continued to worry.
The problem was . . . and it was a pretty major problem . . . she found talking about Luke way too stressful. She’d been stressed ever since she left him at Moonlight Plains. She knew she should forget him, once and for all – and she knew he would understand if he never heard from her again.
She just wished she wasn’t haunted by the smoulder in his eyes when he’d talked about kissing her. She’d been dreaming about him practically every night.
It was crazy. And it was pathetic to be so attracted to the first man she’d met socially since she lost Josh. She was supposed to be playing the field. She wasn’t yet thirty and she should be sampling all the guys she’d missed when she rushed into marriage the first time.
Why didn’t the prospect of variety hold more appeal?
‘Sal?’ Megan was watching her now with concern. ‘I’m sorry if I pissed you off.’
‘Oh, you know me,’ Sally tired to reassure her. ‘Touchy as a thin-skinned toad.’
Megan slanted her a small smile. ‘I guess I was getting carried away, hoping that maybe things were happening for you at last.’
Deep down, Sally knew that she’d been excited about meeting Luke for the very same reason. She was excited about finding an attractive guy and yet scared that her seesawing emotions would sabotage any new relationship.
Truth was, she was behaving like a freaking yo-yo.
And Luke deserved better.
She felt Megan’s hand on her arm. Next moment her friend was pulling her close.
‘You poor thing,’ Megan murmured, giving Sally a warm hug. ‘Here’s me probing your old wounds and carrying on like a teenage matchmaker.’
‘But I shouldn’t be so prickly.’
Sally knew what her problem was. She knew what was nagging at her – something she’d been nursing to herself ever since Josh’s death, something she’d never told Megan.
It was possibly the real reason she was so tense, the reason she couldn’t let go of the past, couldn’t move on the way everyone urged her to.
‘Look,’ she said, feeling scared. ‘There’s – there’s something I should probably explain.’
Megan turned to Sally, her angular face instantly curious, yet justifiably wary.
Sally stopped walking. This wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Maybe we should sit down.’
Her friend’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘Okay.’
The dogs also looked puzzled when their mistresses settled on the sand, but their confusion didn’t last long. Soon they were off, chasing seagulls.
‘Okay,’ Sally began, her heart hammering madly. ‘The thing is –’ She had to stop and swallow the lump that now jammed her throat. ‘It’s something that happened on the morning after Josh’s accident.’
Megan was silent now, waiting while the water slapped gently against the sand, and Sally found herself reliving that dreaded Saturday morning when she’d woken in her bedroom at the flat, drowsy from the sleeping pill her mother had given her.
For a moment she hadn’t been worried about the vacant space beside her in the bed. Still half-asleep, she hadn’t remembered the accident. She’d assumed Josh was jogging out to Pallarenda as he did most Saturday mornings.
Then the truth had hit, cruelly, with sledgehammer force.
Josh. Dead. Gone. Forever.
She’d crawled back under the covers and stayed there, but although she’d made sure the bedroom windows were closed, she could still hear the snarl of her neighbour’s lawnmower, and the chirrups of children playing in a nearby backyard.
She’d drawn the curtains, but bright strips of light blazed along the fabric’s edge, as if the sun was trying to taunt her.
The world beyond her bedroom had carried on as it always did on Saturday mor
nings, as if nothing cataclysmic had happened. But Sally had remained numb, isolated by her grief, her mind locked in a cycle of terror that had started when she’d opened the door to the grim-faced policemen.
In the depths of despairing grief, she’d relived the horror of going to the hospital with Megan and Josh’s mate, Toby, as well as her parents.
Josh’s father had got there just ahead of them and he’d looked as if he’d aged ten years. He’d told them that formal identification was needed, and Sally had insisted that she must go in.
‘Sally, it doesn’t have to be you.’ Her mother’s voice had been gentle, but with a warning edge.
‘I can do this.’ Sally had been so sure she could. And she’d been sure that she had to. In a bizarre way she’d thought she was prepared, as a huge fan of forensic investigation on TV.
She’d been okay until she saw the sign over the door. The single shocking word Morgue had been too much and her legs had given way.
Josh’s father had gone in instead and he’d returned white-faced.
You made the right decision, his eyes had told her.
Why? How did Josh look?
Sally hadn’t been able to ask those questions, but they’d haunted her ever since.
As had the accident, which had never made sense. A single vehicle? Really? The police had mentioned road curves, distractions, speed . . . They’d investigated the crash, of course, but they hadn’t come to any conclusive decisions.
But what had haunted Sally most was not her unanswered questions. Her most persistent worry had come that Saturday morning when her mother, who’d stayed overnight on the uncomfortable sofa bed, had knocked on her bedroom door, bringing her a cup of tea.
‘My mum put this proposition to me,’ Sally told Megan now as they sat together on the dusk-shadowed beach. ‘On the morning after the accident.’
She could remember it so clearly, recalling every detail, even the way the mattress dipped slightly as her mother sat next to her and handed her the steaming mug.
At first, they hadn’t said anything as they sipped. It was as if they’d both reached the conclusion that words couldn’t help.
But then the roar and rattle of the mower next door had stopped abruptly and in the sudden, almost startling silence her mother had spoken.
‘Sally.’ Her mother’s voice had been tight and careful. ‘I’ve been ringing people from work . . . There’s been a suggestion, Sally . . . something I think you should consider.’
Remembering now, Sally leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around her bent knees, and she stared at the distant horizon where the darkening sea met the darkening sky. The temperature was dropping and she should tell Megan quickly or it would be dark.
‘Mum wanted me to save Josh’s sperm,’ she said.
Beside her, she felt Megan shiver. ‘Wow.’
‘I didn’t want to have to think about it.’ Sally felt the hot prickle of tears in her eyes. ‘All I could think of was Josh lying lifeless on a cold slab of stainless steel and a malicious-looking doctor hovering over him with gloved hands and a scalpel.’
Just thinking about it again now, her chest ached, and she couldn’t hold back her tears.
‘That would have been a very difficult decision,’ Megan said gently.
‘It was terrible.’ Sally swiped at her eyes. ‘And it was so weird to hear my mum talking about my husband’s sperm. I found it icky, to be honest.’
‘No doubt,’ Megan agreed with gratifying fervour. ‘If it had been my mum talking about Barney, I would have been grossed out.’
‘But I let her talk me into it,’ Sally said. ‘I had to make the decision really quickly. There was only a twenty-four-hour window. I didn’t want to think about my future. It was too soon. I was numb and I just wanted to stay numb. But Mum was very persuasive.’
‘That’s why she’s such a good lawyer.’
‘Yeah. She reminded me that Josh was an organ donor, and that other people were going to benefit from his death, so I should save this one vital part of him.’
‘Okay . . .’ Megan said slowly and cautiously.
‘For a while there, I really liked the idea,’ Sally said. ‘I missed Josh so much, and I started to think about a little baby with Josh’s dark glossy hair and olive complexion, his cute smile . . .’
In the distance their dogs barked at another seagull.
Another sigh escaped Sally. She picked up a broken piece of coral and tossed it out into the water, where pieces of seaweed floated in the shallows like lacy scarves.
‘The problem was,’ she continued, ‘I wasn’t sure that Josh really wanted kids. I’d only asked him about it once or twice, but he always changed the subject pretty quickly.’
‘Well, yeah, that’s not so surprising. You were both young and Josh was focused on making money and having a good time.’
Sally nodded. ‘Anyway, eventually, I decided to have the sperm destroyed.’ She didn’t want to tell Megan that she’d made the decision after her night with Luke. Her friend would read far too much significance into that.
Nevertheless, she’d come away from Moonlight Plains with the strong feeling that there was something wrong about hanging on to her dead husband’s sperm. After all, everyone had been telling her to stop looking to the past for happiness, so she’d made the decision quickly and acted on it the very next day.
‘But ever since I’ve felt so bloody guilty,’ she said, and without warning, the stress of her confession overwhelmed her. She crumpled, weeping hard, pressing her face into her knees, trying to stem the tears that would not be stemmed.
It was quite a while before she felt Megan’s hand on her shoulder.
‘Sorry,’ she sniffed, rubbing at her damp face.
‘No need to apologise, hon. That’s heavy shit you’ve had to deal with.’
Sally found a tissue in her pocket and blew her nose.
‘But I don’t think you should feel guilty, Sal. It might have been different if Josh had actually talked about wanting to be a father.’
Sally managed a shaky smile. ‘And I can’t pretend I was keen to be a single mother.’
‘I reckon it’s time to stop feeling guilty,’ Megan said.
Sally drew a deep breath of sea air. ‘I’m glad I told you. I feel better just getting it off my chest.’ Slipping her arm around Megan’s shoulders, she gave her a one-armed hug. ‘Thanks.’
After a bit Megan asked cautiously, ‘So . . . have you thought about what you do want for the future?’
Slowly, Sally nodded. ‘I want to get my life back. I want to stop feeling as if I’ve fallen off the merry-go-round and can’t get back on.’
‘And you won’t bite my head off next time I mention another guy?’
Sally let out a huff that was almost a laugh. ‘How about a deal? If anything exciting happens, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.’
Megan grinned. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Reaching for another piece of driftwood, Sally tossed it up the beach, calling to the dogs. Indigo, Megan’s young and bouncy black lab, reached it first, but elderly Jess was soon trying to wrestle it from him.
‘Look at them,’ Sally said, and both girls were smiling as they ran to sort out their dogs.
16
Sally felt calm and surprisingly cleansed as she walked to her flat after Megan drove off. It wasn’t far, just a block back from the beach, and still the flat she’d lived in with Josh. She supposed her inability to leave was part of her general inability to move on, but she also loved living so close to the sea. The sea and the bush both had strong appeal for her.
She fed Jess in the laundry and watered her pot plants, mostly herbs that she kept by the back door, then went inside to take a shower.
Refreshed, she raided her freezer and found a container of leftover risotto that she set in the microwave to defrost. Luke would probably call risotto girl food, she thought, and was promptly mad with herself for thinking about him. Yet again.
/> There was a half a bottle of white wine in the fridge and she poured herself a glass and carried it through to the spare bedroom, which she used as her study. Her notebook was lying on the desk beside her laptop, still open at the notes she’d made about Moonlight Plains’ history. Even though she wasn’t sure she’d continue with the story, she’d done a little research at James Cook Uni as well as at the city library. She’d traced back to the mid-nineteenth century, to the time after explorer Ludwig Leichhardt’s expedition when early settlers had moved up from Bowen to try grazing sheep near Charters Towers.
Now, she flipped through a page or two as she took a sip of wine. The more she’d found out about this story, the more interested she’d become. She knew she could do a good job, and this evening, she felt a renewed sense of purpose.
The early history of the Moonlight Plains homestead was also linked to the gold rush days when cattle had found a ready local market and prices were really high. That era was interesting enough on its own, but if she added in the World War II connection and the hunky young builder descendent who was currently renovating the house, she had a really good colour story.
It could even be her big break, a golden chance to achieve her dream to go beyond freelance and become a commissioned writer for a quality magazine.
She really wanted to write this.
Of course, her chances of completing this story would be a thousand times more straightforward if she and Luke Fairburn hadn’t slept together on the night after the ball. She’d made the classic mistake of mixing business with pleasure, and now, if she wanted to go ahead, she really needed to sort something out with Luke. Really, she should phone him. Clear the air. Get that night behind them, once and for all.
Or was it all too messy?
Should she just forget about it?
She glanced again at her notes and thought how excited she’d been as she made them.
No, do it. You know you want to.
Now.
Just do it.
She was ridiculously nervous as she keyed in Luke’s number.
The phone rang for ages and she was bracing herself to leave a message when Luke answered at the last minute.
Moonlight Plains Page 12
