But it wouldn’t hurt to give it a little nudge along, would it? ‘Emily, dear, would you please go and ask the nurse if it will be okay for me to have a gin tonight? They’re insisting I rehydrate. I just want to be sure that means all liquids, not just water.’
Once Emily was out of earshot, Lola fixed Luke in her sights. ‘Luke, there’s a lot to ask you, but just for now, just quickly, while we have a moment alone together —’
‘Lola, please, I need to tell you something first. While we’re on our own —’
She held up her hand. ‘I’m the one who nearly died today. My turn first. I’ll be quick, we haven’t got long.’
‘Lola, I mean it. I need to tell you something important, it’s about A—’
‘Luke, please, listen to me. I just have one simple question. How do you feel about Emily?’
Up came his blush. ‘She’s lovely. I’ve always really liked her. She’s so easy to talk to. But Lola —’
‘As a friend or as something more? Please excuse my bluntness. She’ll be back any second.’
The blush deepened. ‘I don’t think she’d be interested in me. I’ve wanted to ask her out for ages but I haven’t in case she said no.’
Lola timed it perfectly. Over Luke’s shoulder, she could see Emily coming along the corridor towards her room. ‘Emily say no if you were to ask her out? Emily? Turn you down?’ she spoke a little more loudly with each word. ‘I don’t think that will happen. Emily thinks you’re the bees’ knees. Don’t you, Emily?’
Both Luke and Emily were now a blazing, burning bright red. Lola shut her eyes. ‘Now, I’m just going to lie here and have a little rest to myself before the doctor comes. So how about you both go out into the garden or take a little stroll into town and hopefully by the time you come back to collect me at six you’ll have had the chance to talk about all sorts of things, including where you might go on your first date.’
Luke and Emily had just stepped outside the front door of the hospital when his phone rang. He took it out, didn’t recognise the number, but answered it.
‘Luke? This is Alex. Lola’s friend. I’m sorry to bother you again, but were you able to contact Lola?’
‘Alex!’ Excusing himself and moving out of Emily’s earshot, he hurriedly told him everything that had happened that day. ‘We have you to thank. If you hadn’t been trying to ring her —’
Alex interrupted, his tone urgent. ‘Was she hurt? Did they do anything to her?’
‘She’s fine,’ Luke said. ‘Really, she is. She’s incredible.’
‘Can I talk to her?’
‘Of course. Of course.' He explained to Emily that he’d be right back.
In her room, Lola was still lying on the bed, her eyes shut.
Luke spoke softly. ‘Lola? ‘
She kept her eyes closed. ‘Yes, darling.’
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got someone on the phone who wants to talk to you.’
‘Who is it, pet? ‘
‘It’s Alex.’
Lola’s eyes opened wide.
Chapter Twenty
Lola had just settled into her motel room when she heard a car drive up. Moments later, her son was at the door. He walked in, and gave her one of the biggest hugs he’d given her in years. Geraldine followed him in. She didn’t hug Lola, but she touched her hand gently, before offering to go and make them all tea. Lola gratefully accepted.
‘That’s the last time I leave you alone for Christmas,’ Jim said, pulling up a chair to his mother’s bedside. ‘Not just for Christmas. For any day.’
‘Don’t be silly, Jim. Did you find a new guesthouse?’
‘Lola, forget the guesthouse. What were you thinking going down there like that? Can’t you see how dangerous that situation was? What might have happened?’
‘I could have been attacked, do you mean? Could have died out in that yard? Yes, Jim. As you and Geraldine could have died if you’d had a car accident rushing back to see me. As Bett might die if she’s eaten by a shark during her beach holiday. Or Carrie might die if she, I don’t know, has an allergic reaction to her face cream.’
‘Lola —’
‘Jim, my little Jim, I didn’t die. You don’t need to scold me like a child. I am fine. Truly. I moved around the yard with the shade. I called for help as often as I could. I had my scarf to protect me. Yes, granted, I was getting very thirsty and that mop bucket wasn’t at all comfortable to sit on, but I felt sure I’d be rescued eventually. And I wasn’t scared. I had someone to talk to and keep me company —’
‘To talk to? I thought no one could hear you?’
‘I talked to Anna the entire time. I told her that it was up to her to send someone to find me, and would she please make it snappy, that I was damned if I was going to end my days in some shabby yard at the back of a shop. I told her I’d much rather go out with a gin in my hand and a song in my heart.’
‘And did Anna talk back?’
Lola smiled. ‘You think I’m delirious, don’t you? No, darling, she didn’t. I do both parts when I talk to Anna. Which I do often. I’ve done it since she died. It gives me great comfort. It would give me even greater comfort if she spoke her own lines sometimes, but perhaps I’d be more shocked than delighted if she did. I’m not sure I believe in ghosts. I’m not even sure if I believe in heaven. But I do believe she is somewhere, and she is happy, and for the sake of not knowing a better word for it, then I’ll call it heaven for now.’
Jim wasn’t in the mood for a theological discussion. ‘All I can say is thank goodness for Luke and Emily. How on earth did they know you were there? Why did they go looking for you in the first place?’
Lola hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. Her conversation with Alex still felt like her own special secret, but Jim needed to know the facts. Quickly and concisely, she explained all that had happened to lead Luke and Emily to her today. Jim listened intently.
‘You don’t remember Alex, do you?’ she said afterwards. ‘I wondered if you would, but you were only a little boy at the time. He was a very dear friend of mine, Jim. After your father died’ – she was still amazed at how easily she had kept up that lie, and how little it mattered that it had been a lie all those years – ‘Alex was the only man I ever really loved. If he hadn’t had to go back to Italy,’ she paused, ‘well, who knows what might have happened.’
‘And are you going to see him again? Meet up with him? After all these years?’
Lola laughed. ‘You sound very protective, darling. Worried in case he is after my vast, sorry, my non-existent fortune?’
‘No. Worried in case he’s not good enough for my mother.’
‘I’ll wait and see. He and I need to have a few more conversations first. If the time is right, and if it also feels right, I’ll fly him in and parade him in front of you for your inspection and approval. Or fly all of you over to Melbourne to inspect him in his natural habitat.’
‘I got a fright today, Lola. When I first got the phone call from Kay.’
‘They had me on death’s door and all of that?’ At Jim’s nod, Lola smiled. ‘They did seem a bit excitable. Too much sherry in their Christmas trifles, I suspect. But I’m a long way from death’s door yet, Jim, I hope. And you too, I hope even more. So let’s cheer ourselves up, fill our days with wine and song, and oh, yes, start thinking about a special event coming up. In – let me just check my calendar – about six days’ time.’
‘A special event?’
‘I suppose special guest might be a more accurate word to use. We’ll prepare room nine, I think. Or perhaps seven. That gets beautiful morning light, doesn’t it? No rush about deciding yet, though. You and Geraldine have to go back and finish your driving holiday first, after all. And find a new place to live. As do I. We are in for a busy end-of-year, aren’t we?’
‘Lola, what are you talking about now? Special guest? I thought you said Alex wouldn’t be coming yet.’
‘He’s not. It’s far too soo
n for him and me. Darling, weren’t you listening to a word I said? This is a really, really special guest. A twelve-year-old one from a far and distant land, coming to celebrate the start of a new year with us all.’ She smiled as it dawned on him. ‘Yes, Jim. Ellen.’
She told him everything that had been going on with Ellen and Glenn in Hong Kong. Afterwards, Jim insisted on cancelling his holiday. How could he leave Lola alone again, not knowing what she might get up to next?
Lola insisted he go. They compromised. He and Geraldine would stay that night and if Lola was still in fine enough form the next morning, then they would continue their break. He was worried that her apparent good humour was all the adrenaline rushing through her veins. That as soon as she stopped, as soon as it all sank in, she would collapse.
‘You really don’t have any faith in the restorative effects of a well-mixed gin and tonic, do you, Jim?’ she said, as he prepared it for her.
‘Lola, you don’t have to joke with me. I know it must have been a frightening day.’
‘It was, yes, but now the fright has passed. Thank you, darling, for rushing to my rescue, even if the rescue had already been done. I will sleep easy knowing you’re here tonight. But not tomorrow night. I want you out of my sight by then.’
She waited until he had gone before she lay down and once again closed her eyes. She didn’t even take a sip of her drink. It took only a minute before the tears she’d been holding back all day started to well up and make their way down her face.
She turned up the music on her radio to cover the sound of her sobbing. Her tears ran unchecked. What a terrible, terrible day that had been. She’d never been so frightened in her life. From the moment she’d heard the two men start to break in, until Luke and Emily appeared, she’d truly believed her time had come. She wasn’t ready to die. She had so much she still wanted to do, so much to think about, so much to tell her son, her granddaughters, her great-grandchildren. If the worst had happened, if the two men had found her, attacked her … She started to shake again at the thought. She had an active imagination at the best of times, but in recent years she’d read too many reports of elderly women being bashed, or worse, assaulted in different ways … Stop it, Lola! It hadn’t happened. Through some miracle or luck, they hadn’t found her. And through some miracle or luck, a chain of events had unfolded and Luke and Emily had rescued her from the yard before she’d suffered anything more serious than a bad thirst and an uncomfortable behind from sitting perched on a mop bucket for too long.
It had almost felt like being at her own funeral, having everyone rush to her side like that, their concern, their phone calls, all of them telling her how awful they’d have felt if anything had happened to her, how much they cared about her. Tomorrow that might make her feel good. Tonight it just made her want to cry even more.
And then, on top of everything, to have spoken to Alex.
Nothing about the circumstances had been ideal. But just to hear his voice! It was as if the years had turned back, as if she was that young woman in Brighton and he was the young man, ringing as he so often had, to invite her to meet him for coffee, for a meal, for a few hours away together. He still had a trace of the Italian accent amid the perfect English. His voice sounded older, but of course, he was older.
They had only spoken for five minutes. She could recall every word, but right now, she didn’t want to think over each sentence, investigate them for more meaning. He’d said two words, several times, that had meant the most to her. I’m sorry.
It was as if he had been waiting all those years to say them. The words she’d wanted to hear when she first got his letter telling her that he couldn’t come back.
I’m sorry.
She hadn’t expected their first conversation to go straight to the heart of their friendship. But she was glad of it. She matched his honesty with a question of her own.
‘Were you happy with her, Alex?’
‘I was, Lola. We had a good life. Two beautiful daughters.’
‘Tell me about them.’ She didn’t want to hear about his good life with his wife, not yet.
He told her about Rosie and Lucia. About his grandchildren. About the decision to move back to Australia ten years earlier, after his wife’s death.
To anyone else, she would have expressed sympathy. Now, she stayed silent.
He spoke again. ‘And you, Lola? Have you been happy?’
Did he mean had she remarried? Had more children? They knew nothing about each other, she realised. It was too soon to share everything. Not the right time, either. She kept her answer simple and truthful. ‘Most of the time, yes, very. Sometimes, no.’
‘The perfect life, then?’
She’d smiled into the phone. ‘Yes, I think so.’ She heard another voice then, someone calling him. Papa. It was Christmas Day, after all. A family day. ‘You should go, Alex.’
‘Can I ring you again?’
She thought about it for several long seconds. Was it foolish to make a connection with him again, after so many years? What would they have to say to each other after any initial exchange of news? Would every conversation be filled with regret for their separate lives? Perhaps. But there was only one way to find out.
‘Of course,’ she’d said.
He’d asked if he could call at six thirty the following night. Old Alex wasn’t so different from young Alex, so courteous, so precise with his arrangements.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she’d said.
The last of her tears slowed now at the thought of him. She wasn’t being silly. She knew they wouldn’t be able to turn back time. She knew they wouldn’t be able to recapture their lost years. But that afternoon, when she had been at her most scared, she’d made a promise to herself. It had been an hour into her ordeal, outside under the hot sun, trying to stay calm, to remain positive, to have hope. She’d turned to Anna.
‘I’m in a bit of a fix, Anna.’
It’s not an ideal situation, Lola, no.
‘Am I going to get out of here?’
Of course you are. And when you do, you have to make sure to seize every moment you can, enjoy every second you’re given, and regret nothing. Promise me, Lola.
‘I promise, Anna.’
She knew it hadn’t been Anna reaching out to her from the grave. She’d been talking to herself. But she would still do as she’d said. Not dwell on sad times. Keep looking forward. Grab every experience she could, while there was still time and while she still had her wits about her. She’d keep that promise, if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Twenty-One
New Year’s Eve
‘One, two, three, four, five … How many of us are there, Really-Great-Gran?’
‘Thirteen, darling. Oh, you’ve done a lovely job folding the napkins, Ellen, thank you. Are they swans or pigeons?’
‘Lola! They’re bishops’ hats.’
‘Sorry, darling. My eyesight has got so bad lately.’
‘If you take off those glasses you might be able to see better.’
Lola took off the diamante-framed oversized glasses she’d been wearing for the past hour. They’d been a Christmas gift from Carrie. Lola thought they went very well with the feathered and jewelled fascinator Bett had bought her. They’d all opened their presents to each other just that morning, as soon as Daniel had arrived back from the airport with their guest of honour, Ellen. The dining room of the motel had been a hubbub of noise since, filled with every member of the family: Jim, Geraldine, Bett, Daniel, Zachary, Yvette, Carrie, Matthew, Delia, Freya and George – and Ellen, of course. Lola had revelled in every squeal, shout and exclamation, content in her chair in the centre of the room, with the perfect view of the Christmas tree in the corner and the blue sky and vineyards through the window.
It was as if Ellen had been there with them for weeks. She’d fitted back in so quickly and easily. She was taller, thinner, growing more like Anna every day. Her face was as beautiful as ever, the scar barely vis
ible these days. Ellen was certainly no longer self-conscious about it. She was like a little dragonfly, Lola thought, flitting from person to person, playing with her cousins, talking to her grandparents, hanging onto her aunts’ hands, coming back to Lola herself each time. ‘I’m not even tired, Lola, and I’ve been awake for hours!’
Later, when it was a bit cooler, they’d all go to visit Anna and have their customary glass of champagne in her honour at the graveside. For the time being, Lola was keeping Ellen busy setting the table under the trees, on the spot where she had planned to serve the Christmas lunch-that-never-happened. She hadn’t told her family about her thwarted plans. Less said the better, she’d decided. They’d all started watching her like hawks as it was. As if she was going to take a notion to get herself locked into a sun-baked yard again.
Not that such a thing would ever happen again. The day after Boxing Day, once word had spread around town about the robbery and what had happened to Lola, the shop’s handyman had been in to repair the broken door and to fit a different bolt to the yard gate. Lola herself had been interviewed by the police. The computer equipment hadn’t been found and wasn’t likely to be, unfortunately. Whoever had stolen it, locals or otherwise, would have already sold it on or were using it themselves, the police thought. Just as unfortunately, the loss wasn’t covered by any insurance. The committee had made a decision not to take out contents insurance the previous year. It hadn’t seemed worth it – the only contents were second-hand goods, after all. But less than a week on from the robbery, before the shop had even reopened after the Christmas break, every piece of equipment had been replaced, free of charge. Margaret had taken the first of the calls, then Kay, then Patricia. Person after person ringing to donate computer parts and equipment. They’d unanimously put Luke in charge of everything. He was their computer guru, after all.
For the time being, Luke was storing everything at his mother’s house. It was already taking up most of one of the spare bedrooms: a nearly new computer, a second-hand camera, a printer and a scanner. ‘We got a new one for Christmas. You’re welcome to this old one,’ one of the donors had said. The donations had kept coming in, even after they had more than enough to rebuild the charity shop setup. So many donations, in fact, that it looked like they’d be able to set up another Mission Control in the local old folks’ home and possibly the library as well.
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