With each hour that passed, though, she lost a little more hope and another tiny chunk of her heart.
Chapter Thirty-five
Flynn turned his ute into the driveway behind the pub, looking forward to sharing another dinner with Stacey, Sean and their rambunctious boys. He still hadn’t come to any conclusions about Ellie. Considering he hadn’t a clue what his feelings were, it was hard to work out what to do about them. He loved working with Kyle and Grant on Shamrock Station, but he knew it could never be a long-term thing. A lot had changed since the last time he’d been up here looking for answers.
For one thing, he was an adult now, with more responsibility and life experience than when he’d left Hope Junction at nineteen. He had his dad’s legacy to fulfil, and his mum and Lucy to look out for. He couldn’t drift forever.
He whistled for Rodger to hobble out of the passenger seat. Sean and Stacey’s kids adored Rodg, but as he was getting old, he could only take them in small doses. They wandered up to the house, where Flynn tied the dog to a post. When no one answered his knock, he let himself in.
Squeals of excitement and splashes came from the bathroom. Leaving his boots next to the welcome mat, Flynn headed towards them. The oldest Sean look-alike stood in the middle of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him. The other three were in the bath, larking about as if they were in the ocean. Stacey was totally drenched.
‘Enter at your own risk,’ she said, the grin on her face telling Flynn she didn’t really care about the debacle.
Flynn loved being with these boys. It made him relax and have a laugh, but it didn’t make things any clearer in his head. A few times he’d found himself picturing Ellie instead of Stacey, imagining they were their sons instead of the Greenways’. He’d shaken it off pretty quickly though. Even if he did still love Ellie, and even if she really loved him, there were other complications. Things they hadn’t yet begun to nut out.
Flynn grinned back. ‘Anything I can do to help?’
‘Yeah, please. You can check on the roast. Should be nearly cooked.’
Giving Stacey a cheeky salute and ruffling the eldest boy on the head, Flynn headed for the kitchen. He immediately screwed up his nose at the smell of charcoaled meat. He opened the oven door and flinched at the smoke that hit him in the face. And to think he’d doubted Ellie’s cooking skills.
Acting quickly, he switched off the oven, noticing that it was set to two hundred and fifty degrees. Then he grabbed a nearby tea towel and dropped the deader-than-dead meat, tray and all, into the sink. The pan of black veggies – at least, he thought they were veggies – followed closely behind. Right about the time smoke alarms starting blaring throughout the house.
Stacey came running into the kitchen, her youngest struggling in her arms. She stared at the mess and then glared at the child. ‘You’ve been playing with the knobs again, haven’t you?’ As she let out a guttural groan, Flynn’s mobile began to buzz in his pocket. She took another look around the room and sighed. ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’
He took the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Muscles he didn’t realise he’d been clenching relaxed when he saw that the caller was Lucy. Until now, his mum had been putting in all the check-up calls – hearing his voice helped her suppress the image of him lying in a gutter somewhere, apparently. He appreciated that this was a mum’s prerogative, but her calls always left him edgy. It would be a relief to chat to his sister.
He pressed the button to answer the call. ‘Hey Luce.’
‘Hello stranger,’ she said, sounding more grown-up than he remembered. ‘You could have called,’ she quipped.
‘I’ve been busy,’ he said. ‘Besides, the amount Mum’s been badgering me I’ve got no battery left.’
She giggled. ‘Well, you’re lucky I’ve been busy too.’
‘Oh really, what’s been keeping you so busy? Study or boys?’
‘Flynn.’ He could almost hear her roll her eyes. Even over the phone, riling her up was fun. ‘There’s only one man for me, and you don’t need to worry about my exams. I’m making time for them – both NIDA and WAAPA require grades as well as talent.’
Flynn thought he could handle it if Lucy went to WAAPA – the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts – but he couldn’t help but feel the National Institute of Dramatic Art was a couple of states too far for his liking.
Lucy continued. ‘But please don’t tell me you’re so stupid as to have forgotten about the play.’
The play. He really had forgotten. No doubt Ellie would stay to see the production through, but once it was over, she’d have nothing keeping her in Hope. She’d leave. Despite the pang in his heart, however, he thought this was for the best. Too much had gone between them for it to ever work. He sighed.
‘It starts this Saturday,’ she continued, oblivious to the churnings in his mind. ‘You’ll be back, won’t you?’
‘Actually, I’ve been helping out on a mate’s station, and they’re pretty busy at the moment. I’ll see the week out and leave on Saturday morning.’ With any luck, Ellie would stay for the first performance and then get the hell out.
‘So you’re going to miss opening night?’ She sounded truly distressed.
‘Luce, calm down. You don’t need me there for that. I’ll be back in time for the midweek matinee.’
‘Fine, Flynn. Be like that. But don’t expect me to ever be there for you. Have a nice life.’
He jumped slightly as the slam of the homestead phone echoed in his ear. Teenagers. He glanced at Stacey, who was now at the table, sipping a white wine. Her toddler played with cars at her feet.
‘Women problems?’ she asked over the top of her glass.
‘Sister problems. Almost as bad.’
She looked wistfully at the kitchen sink. ‘And now you have dinner problems too. Are you a fan of beans on toast?’
He shrugged a shoulder and grinned. ‘When it comes to food, I’m not fussy. But forget about feeding me, I’m going home.’
‘What?’ Stacey looked as surprised as he felt.
‘Yeah,’ he said firmly, trying to get used to the idea, which seemed to have sprung from nowhere. He was always going home at some point, but Lucy’s call had put things in perspective. His family meant the world to him, and if his being at the play was so important to his little sister, then staying away would be both cowardly and selfish.
‘Right now?’
He nodded and explained the situation to Stacey.
‘At least get a good night’s sleep before you go,’ she said, sounding more and more like his mother.
He grinned. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said. I’ll get started now while it’s not too dark, and when I feel myself getting tired, I’ll pull over. I promise. Tomorrow night I’ll get a motel.’
Stacey stood and held out her arms. ‘I feel like you haven’t been here nearly long enough. You will go say goodbye to Sean before you leave? He’s not due back for another hour.’
Flynn nodded and returned his friend’s embrace. ‘I’ll stop by the pub on my way and tell him to bring home dinner.’
‘Thanks,’ Stacey said, picking up her son from the floor. They followed Flynn to the door and waved goodbye.
Chapter Thirty-six
‘Okay. I’ll see you soon, Dwayne.’
Ellie hung up and moved to the other end of the verandah. A decision had been made. Her heart should have felt lighter for it, but it didn’t, not yet. Right now, she felt like she was giving up. She gazed down the long street to the cluster of buildings that formed the town, half a kilometre away. She knew that wherever she was in the world, she’d be able to close her eyes and conjure up that streetscape, that perfect country vista, and all the noises and smells that went with it.
She loved this town and its people more than anything, being back here had taught her that much. But without Flynn or Mat, she just couldn’t see a way to make it home. At least in Sydney, people didn’t judge her by her past. At leas
t there she had a reasonable way to make a living. Her flat was there. Her two closest friends …
Ellie wanted to stay to see the play’s opening. Only one more day. She felt she owed that much to Matilda, to Lucy and Mrs Ellery and the theatrical society, all these people that had welcomed her back into Hope life. She wanted to be there to support them, to see their big moment. But she kept thinking about Flynn. About his silence, his absence. What if he was waiting for her to leave? This had been his home, his town, long before it was hers.
Besides, Dwayne had made it pretty clear if she didn’t come back to the show immediately, Stella Williams would be leaving Lake Street for good. A job might not mean a lot to some people, but it was pretty much all she had left.
She couldn’t just hang around in the wings forever, clutching to the vain hope that her love life might fall back into place. Then she really would be Miss Havisham. The wedding dress. She cringed at the thought of it scrunched in a ball at the bottom of the wardrobe. The rest of the house was all packed away now – as well as Mat’s things, she’d boxed up her teenage years, throwing a lot out, donating some things to the op shop and keeping a few small mementos. But consciously or subconsciously, she’d avoided dealing with the dress.
Even as she realised this, however, she went on to deal with other stuff. She called the bus company and booked herself a ticket to Perth for tomorrow morning. Then she arranged a flight out for the evening. She’d be in Sydney early on Sunday, and back in the studio first thing Monday.
The afternoon was consumed with more such business. The call to the real estate agent. Organising to get the boxes she wanted to keep shipped back to Sydney. Making a few quick visits around town. She said goodbye to Jolie and the girls she’d met through the play, and went to the caravan park to let Joyce know what was going on. Finally, she put in a call to Lucy. She would have liked to have seen Flynn’s precious sister one last time, but she didn’t dare venture to the homestead where Karina would, no doubt, be ready to pounce.
‘Ellie, I’m so glad you called.’ Lucy sounded genuinely so, and that gave Ellie a lift. ‘I was going to ask if you want to have lunch tomorrow. Before I get done up for the play. I wanna pick your brain for some last-minute tips.’
Ellie smiled wistfully – such a lunch would have been nice. ‘You don’t need any tips,’ she said. ‘You’re a natural actress. Just believe in yourself. I do.’
‘Thanks, that means a lot. But let’s still do lunch. Please say yes.’
‘I’d love to Lucy, but –’ She opened her mouth but nothing more came out. She took a deep breath and tried again. ‘But I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m really sorry I can’t stay, but the show’s given me no choice.’
Silence. Then, eventually, ‘But you can’t go yet. Flynn’s on his way home. He’ll be here tomorrow to see the play.’
Ellie sagged back against the kitchen bench and shut her eyes. Flynn. Would hearing his name always give her goosebumps? Still, Lucy’s words confirmed the awful truth. He’d been in contact with his family, and probably Rats and his friends, but he hadn’t once called her. Her decision was justified. She had to face facts, however depressing they might be.
She pressed her lips tightly together to stop the rush of emotion. She was now glad this conversation wasn’t taking place in person. ‘That’s great,’ she said, failing to inject enthusiasm into her voice.
‘Don’t give up.’ Lucy sounded as distressed as Ellie felt. ‘You guys are meant to be together, anyone can see that. I’m sure Flynn will realise it sooner rather than later. But if you’re not here, he’ll think he’s making the right choice.’
However sweet Lucy’s words, however tempting it was to trust in fate, the evidence was still to the contrary. ‘Has he said anything about me?’ she asked.
Another long pause.
‘Well?’
‘No.’ Lucy’s tone told Ellie she wished she could say differently. Her voice perked up, ‘Although he knows you haven’t left and he’s still coming back.’
‘That’s just it, Lucy. He’s coming back in spite of me, not because of me.’ She couldn’t handle this conversation anymore. ‘I’ve really got to go and finish packing. I’m sorry I can’t be at the play, but I know you’ll be a hit. You all will. Thanks for being a great friend.’ Ellie refrained from asking Lucy to stay in touch. Although she adored the girl, she couldn’t put herself or Flynn through that. This was goodbye.
‘You too, Ellie. I wish things could have been different.’
‘Yeah, me too.’ She heard the dial tone and replaced the receiver. ‘Me too.’
Ellie allowed herself a moment to ponder this thought before she put on her metaphorical big girls’ undies and went to finish off her bedroom. A woman on a mission, she flung open the wardrobe door, grabbed the old Cosmo and Cleo magazines and tossed them into a garbage bag. There. That wasn’t hard. All she had to do was the same with the dress and she’d be done, ready to fall on the bed and pray she got better rest than she had the last few nights.
But it was never going to be that easy.
Eyes closed, she thrust a hand into the darkness. She sucked in her breath as she grabbed the dress – but one touch and she was a goner. She let the silky material fall between her fingers and drew the garment up against her cheeks. So soft. It smelled musty from its time in the dank corner of the wardrobe, but still felt good as new.
Knowing it could very well be her undoing, Ellie opened her eyes. She held the dress at arm’s length. It didn’t look new. It looked crumpled and worn and half of its beautiful pearl buttons were scattered around the room. Whoever bought the cottage would be finding them for years.
Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t get rid of it. She might be a modern-day Miss Havisham, but now that she’d been reunited with it, she couldn’t let it go. She shoved the crumpled mess of lost buttons and crushed satin into her suitcase, piling whatever else she could fit on top. Some of her day-to-day clothes had to be turfed to make way for it, but she didn’t care.
Satisfied, she stood up and nodded. Good. She’d think of what the hell to do with it once she was back and settled in Sydney. Right now, it was almost midnight and, exhausted, Ellie fell quickly into a deep sleep.
When Joyce arrived the next morning, Ellie was a wreck. It took all the energy she had to keep her emotions under control, handing over the keys to the Premier – she’d arranged to have it sent across the country later – and the keys to the house.
‘The agent will call on Monday to arrange a time to take some photos.’ Her voice cracked on the last word. Selling Mat’s house seemed more than wrong, but so did renting it out, or worse, leaving it unlived in. She’d made the decision to cut her ties with Hope Junction and that meant saying goodbye to the quirky old cottage as well. Still, no matter how many times she told herself it was only bricks and mortar, it didn’t sit right.
‘I’ll give you a lift to the bus stop.’ Joyce tucked Mat’s keys inside her jacket.
‘No thanks.’ Ellie shook her head. She’d managed her suitcase and rucksack on her own when she arrived, and she’d manage it now. Anything to avoid another painful farewell. All it would take was a kind word or a friendly hug to unlock those uncontrollable sobs again. Apparently there wasn’t a limit on tears. The more you shed, the more your body made.
Joyce seemed to understand this. Instead of stepping forward to embrace Ellie she simply nodded and thrust a small, white envelope into her hand. ‘My details,’ she informed her. ‘Email, mobile, Facebook.’
Ellie threw her head back and laughed. ‘I’ll friend you the moment I find some wi-fi.’
‘Good girl.’ Joyce’s eyes were misty. Ellie wanted to say something but the scratchiness in her throat stopped her. Joyce went on. ‘Please, do keep in touch. I’ll watch you on the telly every night, but it won’t be the same.’
‘I will.’ And she meant it. Joyce felt like her last connection to Matilda. ‘If you ever visit Sydney, I’ve a spare bed with your nam
e on it.’
‘You might regret saying that, girl.’
‘I won’t.’
Oh, to hell with it. If she cried, she cried. Ellie leaned forward and kissed Joyce on the cheek. ‘Thanks for everything. This is definitely not goodbye.’
Joyce smiled and Ellie turned away. Defeated, she wrapped her hand around the suitcase handle and started to walk.
Flynn had woken early in the scungy roadside motel – earlier than the sun – and decided he may as well start the last leg of his journey straight away. The showers in these places were more like leaking taps, and he couldn’t wait to stand under his own shower, then crawl into his own bed for a good rest before the evening. Before the play. Before seeing Ellie, if she was still around. He’d skipped breakfast, thoughts already spiralling in his head about what he’d say to her.
It felt weird to be arriving back in town on a Saturday morning, two months after that Saturday of Ellie’s return. A lot had happened in that time. Felt more like two years.
As he drove down the main street, past the craziness of Saturday morning shopping, he waved at a few locals. He passed the Co-op, About Coffee Time, the post office, Hairlicious, and when he came out the other side of the tiny business district, he slowed for a stray dog to cross the road. As he did, he saw Ellie sitting at the Transwa bus stop, her suitcase at her feet. Even with her head in her hands, Flynn would know Ellie anywhere. Everything about her had imprinted itself on him.
Distracted, he almost hit the dog, swerving to avoid it at the last moment. His brakes squealed as he slammed his feet, taking a moment to regain control of the car and moderate his breathing. He drove a little further and pulled over. Far enough from the bus stop to think, far enough to turn around to take another look. It was definitely her. His chest pounded and his stomach made to heave the breakfast he hadn’t had.
The whole time he’d been away, he hadn’t come to any conclusions about Ellie. And she hadn’t left, not yet anyway. He’d never been one to look for signs but did this mean something? Did it mean he was becoming superstitious or did it mean his heart had been right, that it was trying to tell him the one thing he’d known all along? That he loved her.
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