by Unknown
‘I’ll pay for someone to chop more when you run out.’
‘There’s no need—’
‘Keeping my baby warm is my need.’
She swallowed. He’d be part of her life from now on, she thought. Part and yet not part. There’d be money arriving when she most needed it, money and help.
But not Ben.
She turned back to the house, unable to look at him. He was doing her head in with the way he looked. He was one gorgeous guy. He was vulnerable and isolated and he wasn’t letting anyone in.
‘Is there anything wrong?’ he asked, as she headed indoors?
‘Nope,’ she flung over her shoulder. ‘What could possibly be wrong?’
* * *
They ate dinner in near silence.
‘How was your day?’ he asked, and she managed a smile.
‘The line is, How was your day, dear?’
He smiled back, but he didn’t feel like smiling. He was all at sea, he admitted. He’d worked himself into the ground all day, trying to do as much as possible for her before he left. Now, with nothing left to do but sit across the dinner table from her, he felt lost.
In the morning he’d walk away. She needed nothing else from him.
If only she’d eat a bit more...
‘If I eat more I’ll throw up,’ she told him. ‘Little, often, that’s how I’m handling it. I’ll snack at midnight.’
He wanted to be around to make sure she did.
She had Kath next door.
One neighbour wasn’t enough.
‘I’ll phone you often to make sure...’
‘I don’t need phone calls,’ she said gently. ‘Ben, your relationship will be with our baby, not with me.’
‘I’d hope we can be friends.’
‘Can you be friends with a guy you’ve slept with? I’m not sure.’
‘We can try.’
‘Okay,’ she said, but sounded doubtful.
‘So phone calls?’
‘If you must.’
‘Mary...’
‘That’s it, then,’ she said, rising and clearing dishes with noisy efficiency. ‘Great lasagne. Thanks, Ben.’
And then the phone rang and she grabbed it as if it was a lifeline. She listened for a moment and then nodded.
‘Okay. See you in fifteen.’ She disconnected and smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, Ben, I need to go out.’
‘Roller derby?’
‘How did you guess? They’re a man short and it’s a final. They were hoping I’d be back.’
‘Should you—?’
‘First trimester should be okay. Baby’s tiny and nicely buffered and the Taimarana Terrors are skilled rather than rough. We play them often. Will you be right here by yourself?’
‘Of course I’ll be right,’ he said, and he couldn’t hide an edge of anger behind his words. ‘But I’d like to come with you.’
‘How are you at counting?’
‘What?’
‘We’re always short on referees. Timer, or maybe a jammer referee if you think you’re up to it. How do you feel about wearing a helmet? It’s to identify which team you’re watching.’
‘I know that.’
‘You do?’
‘I read up on it. How could I not research the interests of the mother of my child?’
‘I see.’ She sounded disconcerted but she was in a rush. The dishes were forgotten—she was flying around, collecting gear.
‘Mary?’
‘Mmm?’
‘You’re pregnant.’
‘So I am.’
‘It’s a contact sport. I don’t think you should be playing.’
She paused and looked at him. She glanced down at her tummy and suddenly he saw a wash of something that looked like grief cross her face.
‘I... Soon.’
‘What do you mean, soon?’
‘I’ll give it up when I need to.’
‘Mary—’
‘Not yet,’ she said, almost fiercely. ‘For the first trimester there’s so much amniotic fluid compared to baby size that I’d need to be hit by a truck to make a difference.’
‘From what I see, isn’t that what roller derby is? Trucks all over the place.’
‘The team we’re playing tonight is more tactical.’
‘But not all teams?’
‘Not all,’ she admitted. ‘So I do need to give it up.’ She glanced down at her tummy and once again there was a wash of grief. ‘But not yet,’ she whispered almost fiercely. ‘Not unless I have to. I’ll hold to what I have for as long as I’m able.’
* * *
She was amazing! Smash ’em Mary was stunning.
The team greeted her with joy; ‘We’ve missed you and, wow, we need you!’ She stuck on a helmet bearing two stripes.
The stars meant she was designated jammer.
He could see why. This woman was good.
He’d figured out the rules by now. Mary’s job was to pass the entire pack of the opposite team; all the women designated as blockers. Once she got past everyone, the team’s score depended on her. She won points for every additional blocker she passed after she’d lapped the entire team.
She was little and quick and agile. She darted in and out of the pack, past women twice her size. The blockers skated to cut her off, using their bodies to keep her behind them, but Mary wouldn’t be kept. She weaved with a skill that kept him breathless. She was flying, and she was loving it. From the sidelines the Tigers’ supporters whooped her on. Ben was supposed to be keeping time—he was!—but he was whooping, too.
But, hell, some of these women were big. Mary fell once and it was all he could do not to dive out onto the track and grab her. But she was on her feet again, laughing, and flying past the girl who’d just tripped her up.
The more he saw, the more astounded he became. He’d read about this game. He’d watched it on YouTube, but what he hadn’t appreciated on the screen was the need for teamwork. You could sit on the sidelines and see a mass of women flying round the track, but when you watched just the one woman you saw how protected she was, and how protective. Each woman was looking out for her teammates. The team was a unit, cohesive and powerful in a way that took his breath away.
The Taikohe Tigers won by a lot and it didn’t take the way the women crowded around Mary at the end to know much of that win was down to her. Her team was brilliant but Mary—his Mary—was one out of the box.
He felt like shouting it. My Mary rocks.
But... But...
She’s not my Mary, he told himself savagely. He was leaving tomorrow. He was heading back to Manhattan. Alone.
Leaving Mary with her tribe?
She’d pulled off her skates and helmet, tugged on her coat and was heading towards him. It felt...good, he thought, that this amazing woman was walking towards him.
There was a dumb thought. He’d driven her here. Of course she had to come with him.
‘What did you think?’ She was lit up like a Christmas tree, exhaustion and happiness radiating in equal measure. ‘Wasn’t that awesome?’
‘Awesome.’ There were some things a man just had to agree with.
‘I won’t be able to do it much longer,’ she said, and once again he saw that trace of grief. ‘I’ll miss it so much. These women are my pack.’
And he’d seen it. The way they’d greeted her, the skill of the blockers as they’d protected her, the yelling of the pivot—the head blocker—aimed at keeping her safe, giving her passage, but more, the underlying respect each woman had for each of the others.
He’d seen this type of respect in the army, in a tight-knit battle situation where every soldier depended on the others for their life.
&n
bsp; He’d struggled with it in his personal life, the closeness of interconnecting need. He’d decided he could do without it.
But Mary was loving it. He could see it as she looked back at her team and he could see the regret.
‘I’ll miss them so much...’
‘Hey!’
She turned and there was a woman coming through the door towards them. A woman with vitriol written all over her face.
She was middle-aged, wearing too much make-up, clothes that were frankly tarty. Peroxide blonde. Buxom. Looking rigid with anger. She walked straight up to Mary, and before he could react, before anyone could react, she slapped her hard across the cheek.
Mary’s face snapped back and then Ben was between them, grabbing the woman’s arm as she raised her hand again, forcing it down.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘And who are you?’ The woman’s voice was shrill with hate. ‘The guy stuck on that island? The stud that got her pregnant? They say you’re rich.’ She turned back to Mary. ‘Is that why you did it, you slut, or did you do it just to hurt Sunrise?’
‘I didn’t!’ Mary sounded appalled, justifiably. She was wearing a handprint inflamed across her cheek. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘You killed your sister’s baby. You think you might have one yourself now, just to rub it in?’
‘Leave it, Barbie.’ The woman who’d played pivot, still on her skates, headed across to intervene. ‘You know everyone says it wasn’t Mary’s fault. That lawyer who was here—’
‘I know what I know,’ Barbie hissed. ‘And I know that this woman is a slut. I told you before, keep her out of your team. I can’t stop her working, but I can tell anyone who socialises with her, forget about coming to our pub. Forget about anyone connected to you getting anywhere in this town. You know my husband’s money controls this place. We might have to put up with her but we don’t have to like her.’
‘Barbie—’
‘And you, Hayley Durant,’ the woman snarled, poking a painted fingernail into the pivot’s chest. ‘Your husband works for Small’s Hardware. My husband owns the freehold on that store. You keep playing nice with her and he’ll be shown the door.’
‘If that happens,’ Ben said, starting to figure who this woman must be and what power she had, ‘then I’ll move in. You’ve already had a hint of what my lawyers can do. Believe me, that’s just a taste. I have money and I have power, and I’ll use whatever it takes to keep Mary safe.’
‘You can keep her safe,’ Barbie snarled. ‘But you can’t keep her accepted. She’s an outsider here. She doesn’t belong.’
‘But I don’t need to belong,’ Mary whispered. ‘No, it’s all right, Hayley. Barbie’s right, I’m pregnant so I need to give up roller derby anyway. As long as I can keep working...and she can’t stop me doing that...’
‘Where’s your father in all this?’ Ben demanded. ‘Why isn’t he standing up to this woman?’
‘Because he’s not strong enough,’ Mary whispered. ‘Because he loves Barbie and his stepdaughters. He stopped loving me a long time ago.’
‘And you?’
‘I don’t need him,’ she told him. ‘You have it right. We don’t really need anyone. You can do it, so I can do it. No, it’s okay, Hayley, no one needs risk anything on my behalf. It’s okay, Ben, I don’t need you to defend me. I’m fine on my own.’
‘I’ll take you home.’
She glanced at her watch. Nine o’clock. ‘There’s still time,’ she said.
‘Time for what?’
‘You’re going back to your isolation,’ she said. ‘The Adirondacks are your refuge? Let me show you mine.’
* * *
She was tired to death. She should just let him take her home but she couldn’t bear it.
She wanted him so much...so seduce him with her country? It was a crazy thought, but she was past thinking whether things were crazy or not. All she could think of was that she had this one last night.
This one last chance.
* * *
She directed him to the coast, ten minutes’ drive away. They pulled up at a collection of motley fishing sheds and a rickety jetty, all dark and deserted They overlooked an inlet, surrounded by mountains on three sides, deep and mysterious, almost a landlocked bay where he couldn’t see the outlet to the sea.
‘This used to be the base of a fishing community,’ she told him. ‘But the entrance has silted up. The inlet’s still tidal but the water’s so shallow at the entrance boats can’t get in and out. So it’s pretty much a private place.’
The night was completely still. The moon hung low over the water, a shimmery haze. Magic.
‘You want to row?’ she asked.
‘You’re kidding.’
‘I can row but I’m tired.’
‘There’s a boat?’
‘One of my old patients keeps a rowboat in the far shed and lets me use it. I have a key.’
‘Why—?’
‘Because I want to show you that I have everything you have and more,’ she told him. ‘You have a fancy apartment and a housekeeper. I have a cottage and a dog. You have enough money to keep you satisfied and so do I. I have a community as well. This is my final trump card. Adirondacks, eat your heart out.’
It didn’t make sense but he was past trying to make sense of what was happening. He was out of his depth and he knew it.
She led him to the last boat shed, inserted a rusty key and found the boat.
The rowing boat was surprisingly neat. The doors of the shed were still oiled. They swung open to the inlet and they were away.
And the moment the boat shed was behind them, he knew why she’d brought him here. He’d visited New Zealand for forty-eight hours but he’d seen nothing. It no longer mattered. For the rest of his life, whenever he thought of this country he’d think of this place.
The mountains loomed majestically around them. The night was whisper quiet. The moon was a vast ball, hung so low and near it was as if they could reach out and touch it.
Flocks of wild swans drifted lazily on the water’s surface. As they neared each group, the birds rose, the sweep of their wings on the darkened water a sound he’d remember forever.
Why had she brought him here? It didn’t matter. He was awed, as she’d obviously expected him to be awed. She sat quietly in the bow of the boat and he thought...he’d never known such a woman.
And he thought, She had to marry him.
‘This place is magic,’ he said at last into the stillness. ‘You’re right, it has everything. But for you... You can’t tell me you row here at night alone?’
‘I do.’
‘It’s not safe.’
‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘I won’t do it again. Not now I have my baby to think of.’
‘Our baby.’
‘Yes,’ she said, and fell silent.
‘Everything’s changing,’ he said softly. ‘There’s so much, and you’re so alone everywhere.’
‘I have my job and my workmates. I have Kath next door. The girls in my team will be here for me in emergencies.’
‘It’d take a real emergency for them to defy Barbie.’
‘Barbie’s fury will blow itself out. Things will settle. And my baby will have a community.’
‘Is that what this is all about? Hope for a community?’
‘Maybe it is.’
‘Is it about your dad?’ he guessed. ‘Are you still hoping?’
She thought about it, while she gazed out at the silhouettes of the swans drifting against the moonlight.
‘Maybe I am.’ Then she raised her chin and met his gaze, defiant. ‘I still love him.’
‘Mary, he’s never there for you.’
‘Once upon a time h
e was,’ she said sadly. ‘There was my mum and my dad and me. And then when Mum died there was just Dad and me. Barbie killed that. Dad was wiped by Mum’s death and Barbie picked up the pieces, but he’s never been whole again. She controls him, but underneath somewhere Dad’s there.’
‘You’d stick around to wait for him to find the courage to break free? You’d give up everything for something that might never happen?’
‘Tell me, Ben,’ she said, and she was suddenly sure of herself again, ‘what would I be giving up?’
‘I can give you a life.’
The chin stayed tilted. ‘You can give me an apartment. A place to write. Money for child-raising. As your wife I’d probably have money for stuff I haven’t thought of yet. But you wouldn’t be giving me yourself.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do, Ben,’ she said gently. ‘You saw it today, with Ross and Ethel. Soap bubbles. That’s what they have and they’ve lived with them for all their lives. I know they may burst at any minute but my mum and dad had them in spades.’ She took a deep breath and seemed to firm.
‘I know it may never happen for me,’ she said softly. ‘Especially now I seem—stupidly—to have given my heart to a man called Ben Logan. Ben, I’ve used my writing as a fantasy and, yes, as a shield. The thought of loving someone, leaving myself open to the sort of pain I felt when Dad turned away from me, has always left me terrified.
‘But with you...I have no idea why, but for some stupid reason I’d risk it all. If I let myself love you I could abandon that fantasy. But living down the hall from you and still needing that escape—it’d break my heart. That’s not a guess, it’s a certainty, and I can’t do it.’
‘Mary—’
‘No.’ He’d reached out for her but she held out her hands to ward him off. The boat wobbled and he couldn’t move.
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ she managed. ‘More. I shouldn’t have made love to you. I shouldn’t have got pregnant. Maybe I shouldn’t even have told you I was pregnant, but, then, dishonesty’s not my way. Okay, I’ve fallen in love with you and maybe I did the first time I saw you. I have no idea why, or when, or what to do with it, but somehow it’d happened. I don’t know how to stop it, but loving you without reciprocation would kill me. Maybe that’s me being dumb. Maybe that’s why I stay here, hoping against hope my dad will love me again.
