by Lyn Denison
In the end she grew impatient with herself and pulled on her first choice, a pair of tailored bottle-green shorts and a paler green top. The shirt had a loose collar and no sleeves so it would be cool enough in the dry inland heat. At this time of year even at night the heat barely dissipated.
Kate tucked in her shirt and threaded a dressy leather belt through the waist loops of her shorts. She slipped on a pair of casual, flat-heeled shoes and looked at herself in the mirror behind her bedroom door.
She grimaced. What was that saying of her aunt’s? Something about not being an oil painting? She certainly wasn’t that, that was for sure. Kate remembered overhearing one of her teachers describing her as a plain little thing. And that, as Kate saw it, about summed her up.
She couldn’t help grinning wryly as she asked herself why she bothered to even look at herself. No matter what she’d always see herself as a shade too tall, a little too thin and far too ordinary.
That should do wonders for her self-esteem, she thought as she turned to brush her dark hair.
In the kitchen she took a bottle of light white wine from the refrigerator and slipped the bottle into a handheld cooler. On the counter was the brightly wrapped gift she’d bought Ashley’s mother, a fine, English bone-china cup, saucer, and plate to go with her collection.
Well, she was ready. Her heartbeats seemed to jump, and she took a deep breath. Before she could change her mind, she resolutely locked the kitchen door and headed toward the back fence, reassuring herself that she was only going next door and that she could always come home if it all got too much for her.
Strangely, the Macleans’ back garden was empty, although Kate could hear voices coming from the house. Only as she skirted the swimming pool did she notice the stocky man bending over the brick barbecue by the other fence.
He looked up in surprise at her approach.
“Stone the crows! Is that you, Katie Ballantyne?” Ashley’s father, the only person to ever call her Katie, enveloped Kate in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.
He stepped back to look at her, hands still on her shoulders. Bill Maclean wasn’t a tall man, but he was broad and muscular, and Kate was pretty much on eye level with him.
“Were you always that tall or have I shrunk?” he asked with a twinkle in blue eyes his daughter had inherited.
“I think I grew.” Kate laughed easily. She’d always got on well with Ashley’s father. “I thought you mightn’t recognize me.”
“Not recognize you? I’d know your bones in soup. Now, let me look at you. Still as beautiful as you always were.”
Kate gave a skeptical laugh, and he frowned.
“Well, you are. And I can’t believe I’m the only one who’s told you so.” He shoved another piece of wood into the fire beneath the barbecue plate, brushing his hands together as he turned back to Kate. “Why haven’t we seen you for so long?”
Kate swallowed nervously. “Well, I was working down in Brisbane for years and only came back when Aunt Jane became ill.”
Bill Maclean tut-tutted. “Yes, I heard about her fall. And Jane Ballantyne was a stubborn old girl. Couldn’t suffer help from anyone.” He shook his head. “It’s a bad business this getting old, Katie. It’s hard enough to admit to yourself you aren’t the person you used to be without having to tell the world.” He chuckled. “Now isn’t this a wonderful subject for a birthday bash? I’ll have us all crying in our beer if I’m not careful.”
“How about crying in our wine?” Kate lightly indicated her cooler, and they laughed together.
“Just name your poison. Anyway, come on in and reacquaint yourself with the family.” He slung an arm around Kate’s shoulder and headed them toward the open sliding glass door.
“All the kids are home this time. We’ve got beds set up everywhere,” he continued. “Place looks like a br—” He stopped, revised his description. “We’re pretty crowded, but Patsy’s as happy as a pig in mud. She just dotes on the grandkids. We’ve got four, you know, and another due any minute. That’s Tim’s first. Belinda’s got three, and Ashley’s got one. Baden and his wife are dragging their heels in that department. Both say they’re too busy to start a family.” He turned to Kate. “You have any kids, Katie?”
“Oh, no,” Kate said quickly, and he lifted her left hand, shaking his head at her ringless fingers.
“Not married either? What’s wrong with the guys in the village these days?”
A giggle escaped Kate, despite herself. “Maybe I run too fast for them.”
Bill Maclean roared with laughter, and he was still laughing when they entered the house.
The sliding glass door led into a huge rumpus room that ran the length of the back of the house. Tonight it was decorated with streamers and balloons and a bright HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner. The room seemed to be filled with people, and Kate felt a renewed stab of apprehension.
Then she met the guarded gaze of Patsy Maclean as she came toward them.
“Hello, Kate,” she said lightly enough.
“Happy sixtieth birthday,” Kate said quickly and handed her the gift she’d brought along.
“Thank you. I certainly don’t feel sixty.” She put Kate’s gift carefully on the table with a mound of others. “I’m going to open all my presents after supper, but I must say they all look too nice to disturb.”
“Yes, they do,” Kate said inanely, suddenly wanting to run for the sanctuary of home.
“So, are you going to share the joke with us?” Patsy turned to her husband, and he slipped his arm around her waist and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You and Kate were having a good old laugh when you came inside.”
“Katie was just telling me she isn’t married, and I was remarking on how slow young men are these days. I didn’t let the grass grow under my feet when I met you, did I, love? I had you at the altar like greased lightning.” He kissed her noisily on the cheek, and Patsy patted him affectionately.
“We all know who had whom at the altar before he could change his mind.” She laughed. “You always told me marrying you was the best day’s work I ever did.”
“Did I say that?” Bill asked exaggeratedly.
“Yes, Dad, you did. More than once. I’m a witness.” Belinda Harrison had joined them. She turned to Kate. “Hello, Kate. Good to see you again. Do you remember Patrick? You were at our wedding many many moons ago.”
Kate laughed. “Yes, of course. Hello, Patrick.” She shook hands with Belinda’s husband.
Patrick Harrison was still a pleasant looking man with reddish hair that was turning gray. His face suddenly broke into a smile.
“Kate. Of course. Now I’ve got it. You’re Ashley’s friend.”
In her peripheral vision, Kate saw Patsy Maclean stiffen slightly, and her husband gave her a puzzled glance.
“Ashley and I went to school together,” Kate put in as evenly as she could. “But we haven’t seen each other for years.”
“Is that right? Well, Ash’s here somewhere.” Patrick looked around. “I’ll go and find her.”
I wish you wouldn’t, Kate wanted to cry out, but she stood impotently as Patrick disappeared into the crowd of people.
“And I’d better go back and check the barbecue,” said Bill Maclean. “Should be ready to start cooking. Want to come give it your eagle eye, Pats?”
Patsy Maclean excused herself and followed her husband outside.
“Can I get you a drink, Kate?” Belinda asked, and Kate held up her cooler.
“I have some white wine.”
“You didn’t have to bring that. We have plenty. Here, let me take it.” She took the cooler from Kate. “I’ll put it beside the fridge in the kitchen, and you can take it home with you. No point opening it when we’ve got grog pouring out our ears. I think Dad thought the whole city was coming tonight. One white wine coming up. I won’t be long.”
Kate looked around only to find that Ashley’s mother had stepped back inside and they were standing on their own, face to fac
e. There was an awkward silence, and Patsy fingered the strand of pearls at her throat.
“Thank you for asking me to the party,” Kate said stiltedly. “The”— she swallowed— “the decorations look wonderful.”
“Yes. The children had fun putting them up this afternoon.” Patsy Maclean seemed as nervous as Kate was. “You came alone? I thought perhaps you might have brought Phillip Walker along with you.”
“No. I came on my own.” Kate paused, trying to decide what course to take with Ashley’s mother. Taking a deep breath she chose to be honest. “Phillip and I are acquaintances. We just work together.”
“Oh. I see. I thought someone said you were seeing each other.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Oh,” Patsy repeated, and that same strained silence fell again.
Patsy’s eyes met Kate’s, and they both looked hurriedly away. The past came tumbling vividly back, and Kate flushed at the memory of lying naked beside Ashley and looking up to see Patsy Maclean in the doorway of Ashley’s bedroom, her face pale with horror.
Kate drew a steadying breath. She had to say something. And she didn’t want Ashley’s mother thinking she was was what? she asked herself. Heterosexual? Kate almost laughed.
“Phillip’s in the middle of a divorce, and apart from that” — Kate made herself smile — “he was a crushing bore when we were teenagers, and he hasn’t improved over the years, I’m afraid.”
Patsy sighed. “Yes. Well, I knew his late mother, and she was a bit like that, too.”
And suddenly they were both smiling.
“Maybe it’s genetic,” Patsy added, and they laughed together.
Kate turned slightly to glance around her, and the first person she saw was Ashley.
“Found her,” Patrick said affably. “Can’t believe you two were just kids at my wedding.”
Ashley gave him a playful shove. “Hardly kids, Pat. We must have been about fifteen, so no doubt we were convinced we were incredibly grown up. I know I thought I was so cool in my mauve bridesmaid’s dress. Remember that, Kate?”
Kate nodded. Ashley had looked beautiful. And after the wedding Ashley had kissed Kate for that first, unbelievably incredible time. She slid a quick glance at Ashley’s mother. But apart from a nervous fingering of her necklace again, Patsy Maclean seemed at ease.
“One drink, Kate.” Belinda appeared and handed Kate a glass of white wine. “Come and say hello to Baden’s in-laws, Pat,” she added and bore her husband off toward the other end of the room.
Ashley pulled a face. “Pat’s the only one who can stand Baden’s mother-in-law.”
“Ashley,” her mother admonished, and Ashley grinned.
“Come on, Mum. You know she even scares the daylights out of Dad.”
Amazed at Ashley’s composure, Kate fought the urge to down her wine in one gulp.
Patsy Maclean sighed. “Speaking of your father, I’d better take him some meat to cook. Otherwise he’ll have the barbecue plate too hot and well end up with burned offerings again.”
She made her way toward the kitchen, and Kate turned nervously back to Ashley.
Tonight Ashley wore a pair of short brushed denim overalls and a thin, pink cotton-knit shirt. She looked vivacious and incredibly beautiful, and Kate swallowed as an arrow of desire speared through her. She wanted to hold Ashley to her, feel the soft contours molding with her own. Did Ashley feel this same burning need? How Kate wished she knew what Ashley was thinking.
At that moment Ashley leaned toward Kate. “You look wonderful,” she said thickly, and Kate’s body grew hot with an almost irresistible craving.
She looked down at her wine glass, twisted the stem between her unsteady fingers. “Ash, don’t. Not tonight. I don’t think I could bear it.”
Ashley’s breath caught, and she looked into Kate’s eyes with a sultry need that matched Kate’s.
“Kate, I wish—” She drew in another steadying breath that thrust her breasts against the bib of her overalls, and Kate’s knees nearly gave way beneath her.
Surely the other people around them must sense the scorching tension that seemed to smolder around them, to spark between the two of them.
“I think perhaps you’re right. We’d better keep to mundane subjects.” Ashley looked around her. “Let’s go and sit down over there.” She indicated the old sofa at the end of the room that was miraculously free, now that some of the guests had moved outside to talk to Ashley’s father as he cooked the steaks and sausages.
Kate reluctantly followed Ashley and sank down onto the couch, putting a body’s width between them. She took a quick sip of her wine, feeling its sharpness tickle her throat.
“So. Can we talk?” Ashley asked, and Kate shrugged. “I mean, its pretty public, and we’re sitting sedately apart. No one could possibly get the wrong idea.”
“Ash!”
“I’m sorry,” Ashley said quickly. She started to reach out to touch Kate but drew her hand back. “That was uncalled for, wasn’t it? Can we start again?”
Kate nodded. “Perhaps we’d better.”
“So what have you been doing these past ten years?” Ashley asked, and Kate gave her a dubious glance. “No. I mean it, Kate. I’m interested, and I really want to know.”
“Well, I haven’t done much really,” Kate began. “I went down to Brisbane to university, got my degree, and then got a job.”
“Like we planned to do,” Ashley said softly, and Kate steeled herself against the wistfulness in her tone.
“Yes, like we’d planned,” she said flatly.
“When I came home before Jen was born, I tried to contact you through the uni but, of course, they wouldn’t give out any information. So why couldn’t I find your name in the Brisbane phone book? Didn’t you have a telephone?”
“I shared a private house with three other students. The house belonged to the parents of one of the guys, so the phone was listed in his name.”
“One of the guys?” Ashley queried. “You shared with a guy?”
“A guy and a couple, and when they left two other female students moved in.”
Ashley pulled at a frayed piece of cotton on the sofa cover. “I feel jealous of them all.”
Kate went to speak, but Ashley looked up at her. “I know. I have no right.” She sighed. “I wanted so much to be with you.”
“I wanted that too,” Kate admitted and swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat.
“Did you enjoy it? I mean, life at uni, being away from home, sharing the house.”
“Yes to all three,” Kate replied. “I found the courses at uni interesting, and as far as sharing the house, well, we all got on fairly well really. Rob and I — Rob’s the guy whose parents owned the house. Rob and I still call each other a couple of times a year.”
“Did you have a relationship with him?”
Kate rubbed at the dull ache between her eyes. “I presume you mean were we sleeping together? Why do you want to know? Would it change anything?”
“I guess that’s another thing I’ve got no right to ask, isn’t it?” Ashley was worrying the frayed sofa cover again.
“I guess it is.”
They lapsed into a discomfiting silence.
“I suppose I’m just wondering if you’d, well, tried a guy?” Ashley said at last, and Kate flushed and shook her head.
“Ash!” she appealed.
“Did you?” Ashley persisted, and Kate sighed.
“No. No, I didn’t. But everyone thought Rob and I were an item. It suited us both at the time. Rob was, is gay too.”
“Oh.”
“So does that satisfy your curiosity?” Kate asked flatly.
“I guess I was curious,” Ashley conceded and then gave a quick laugh. “Not vicariously though. I just wondered about, well, if you’d liked it.”
“Then I suppose my answer to that is, I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
What about you? The question danced about inside Kate, but she r
efused to give the query voice.
“Do you want to know if I enjoyed it?” Ashley asked, and Kate flushed guiltily, her expression giving her away.
“I don’t think talking about this is going to achieve anything,” Kate said half-heartedly, and Ashley grimaced.
“I suppose not. I mean, I’m such an expert on that subject.” She gave that humorless laugh again. “It all left me pretty cold, actually. Which made Dean’s accusations about my supposed infidelities quite ludicrous.”
“He accused you of having affairs?” Kate couldn’t stop herself from asking, and Ashley nodded.
“Especially when we were first married. But I’d be the first to admit that when it came to that side of our marriage Dean had a raw deal.”
A small part of Kate momentarily delighted in this revelation, but she took herself to task. In all fairness she had no more right to feel that way than Ashley had to ask Kate questions about her sex life.
“I didn’t … I mean, I could never relax. Eventually Dean sent me to a counselor. That did no good. After half a dozen visits, we all admitted defeat. And about four years ago we stopped doing it.”
“Ash, maybe you shouldn’t be— ”
“Shouldn’t be telling you this? Who else can I tell, Kate? Not Mum. She’d be embarrassed. I did confide some of it to Belinda, but she couldn’t understand. She adores Patrick, and they’re ecstatically happy.”
Ashley sighed. “I’d hazard a guess that when Dean and I severed physical relations was when he began his affair with one of his nurses, I presume the one he’s now living with. Not that I could really blame him. So I was a complete failure in bed as well as out of it.”
“It takes two people to have a successful relationship,” Kate said, feeling somehow inadequate when faced with Ashley’s confidences. And when it came to relationships, Kate granted she could scarcely give advice. She hadn’t exactly had any huge successes in that area of her life. She acknowledged that she’d treated Rosemary abominably.
“So I guess I’m not cut out to be a good-time girl,” Ashley was saying with a bitter laugh. “But you and I, we had some good times.” Her tone softened, reached out, threatened to enmesh Kate as a million treasured memories rose out of their pasts. “Didn’t we, Kate?”
