Wife in the Making

by Lindsay Armstrong

  He drew her close and she felt him sigh deeply. ‘Thanks for that. How do you think they’re feeling now?’ Her parents and Walter Wallis had returned to the resort.

  ‘Still shell-shocked but, if I didn’t entirely get through to my mother, I think Dad is reassured that I knew what I was doing.’

  ‘Did you?’

  The question hung in the air between them. ‘Perhaps I had better show you,’ she said simply.

  He moved his chin on her hair. ‘That’s usually my line.’

  ‘I must be coming around to seeing the wisdom of it.’

  Her parents and Walter Wallis stayed for a week.

  If Bryn had accused of her charming the socks off his father, she watched with some amusement as her mother’s hostility crumbled beneath Bryn’s charm and charisma at its most potent. Not only that, Walter turned on his own brand of charm for the duration of his stay. He was also genuinely intrigued by Clam Cove, Fleur could see, as well as see Bryn relax his defences on the subject. And Tom—well, Tom was just Tom.

  You’d have to be a block of wood, Fleur reasoned, to be able to resist that kind of onslaught. Yet she had the feeling her father was another matter. She may have reassured him that she’d known what she was doing but she sensed that he had other reservations. And on their last day he suggested she walk along the beach with him, artfully consigning her mother to Julene.

  Fleur knew something was coming and couldn’t help herself from trying to pre-empt it. ‘I know how hard this must have been to accept, Dad, but it would make me really happy if you could be happy for me.’

  ‘I am, darling.’ Theo Millar took her hand. ‘But I don’t imagine it’s all going to be smooth sailing.’

  Fleur looked across at him. ‘Is it ever?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I guess your mother and I are good examples of that.’

  ‘That’s one reason I didn’t let you know,’ Fleur confessed. ‘I didn’t want to spoil this time you were sharing in more…unity than I could remember.’

  ‘Fleur, I know. And your mother will get over that. But I know Bryn Wallis, you see.’

  Fleur stopped dead. ‘How?’

  ‘Oh, I’d never met him. But I used to read his columns and reports regularly. From places like Kosovo, Cambodia, the Middle East, Northern Ireland, Angola and East Timor. Then I read a report that his photographer—they’d been together for years—had been killed by a land-mine in Angola. From that day onward I never read another report with the Bryn Wallis byline.’

  ‘I…I didn’t know,’ Fleur whispered.

  Theo Millar looked concerned. ‘It may not be something he can talk about, but,’ he gestured to take in Clam Cove, ‘it could be the reason for all this.’ He paused. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say, Fleur, is that I’ve sensed a couple of things, rightly or wrongly. One is that what you feel for him is not in question and therefore I am happy for you, darling.’

  Fleur swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘But I also think you’ve chosen a very complex man, and one who may have a lot of conflicting issues to resolve. It can put a lot of strain on a marriage.’

  ‘Did you…’ she looked into her father’s eyes ‘…did you have those, Dad?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Hopefully mine were not what Bryn has to deal with, but all the same… I fell in love with another woman when you were four or five. I chose not to pursue it but I couldn’t forget it, and your mother sensed it. I often think that’s why she was so insistent about trying to mould you into the person she would have been if she hadn’t married me.’

  ‘I’m…so sorry, Dad. But things came right for you and her?’

  ‘Yes.’ Theo looked into the distance and put his arm about his daughter. ‘A little brush with mortality brought me to my senses and I found again the woman I had once loved enough to marry.’

  ‘Don’t let her worry herself about me, Dad,’ Fleur said urgently.

  ‘Fleur,’ her father smiled wisely, ‘I’ll try. On one condition; I know there have been things you’ve tried to hide from us, for precisely that reason as well as,’ he looked bleak for a moment, ‘the friction it caused between me and your mother. But we are always there for you, and we’re there united now. Just remember that, darling.’

  ‘I think I need a holiday!’

  They were standing on the jetty, waving goodbye the ferry carrying his father and her parents, when Bryn made this pronouncement.

  Tom was with them and he seconded the idea enthusiastically.

  ‘Most of our life is like a holiday,’ Fleur pointed out laughingly, to discover herself on the receiving end of an oddly penetrating glance from Bryn.

  ‘True,’ he said slowly. ‘Perhaps we need to go and work down a coal mine for a change.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ Fleur paused, ‘I was listening to the weather report this morning and they’re forecasting a fifteen-knot south-easterly tomorrow. Good sailing weather.’

  ‘Are you suggesting something, Fleur?’

  ‘Uh-huh—it’s Monday tomorrow, our night off. What say we persuade Eric to take the Julene out?’

  ‘You’re a genius, my dear.’ Bryn possessed himself of her hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘That’s exactly what I need—a good, brisk sail.’

  As it happened, what he got in a freak accident aboard the Julene the next day whilst they were raising the sails was a two-day stint in hospital on the mainland with some cracked ribs, concussion and a severely sprained ankle.

  Nor was he a good patient, Fleur discovered; in fact he discharged himself against medical advice at least a day early, he commandeered a seat on a helicopter ferrying guests to the resort and turned up at Clam Cove out of the blue just before she was due to take the ferry across to spend the day with him, as she had on the two previous days.

  He had a pair of crutches and his chest strapped and when she started to protest he propped himself against a wall, pulled her into his arms and said into her hair, ‘Nothing on earth will make me go back! I also thought you might be pleased to see me.’

  ‘I am! But I’m also worried about you! I’ve been a nervous wreck ever since it happened and we had to call out the coastguard because you were out like a light, and I didn’t know how badly you were injured,’ she said with a bubble of hysteria rising in her throat. ‘And now you’ve just…walked out!’

  ‘Hush.’ He stroked her hair. ‘I’m as tough as old boots, but it’s nice to know you were really worried.’

  ‘Of course I was,’ she said indignantly. ‘What did you expect?’

  He laughed softly then winced. ‘It’s still nice. Unfortunately laughing, sneezing, coughing or anything of that nature is still a bit painful and I’ve been warned off sex for a time—’

  ‘So I should think!’

  ‘Mrs Wallis!’

  ‘Bryn, you know what I mean,’ she said ominously.

  ‘So long as I’m still allowed to hold you, sleep in the same bed with you, that kind of thing?’

  She softened at last. ‘Be my guest,’ she invited.

  He kissed her. ‘That’s better. So. How has the old place got along without me?’ He looked around.

  Her lips curved. ‘Admirably!’

  He frowned. ‘You don’t say…’

  ‘I do. Julene was inspired. Once again Eric came to the rescue and was her offsider. Yeah, it all went really well.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that one bit,’ he commented.

  She looked innocent. ‘I thought you’d be pleased!’

  ‘Pleased! You have just made me feel supremely dispensable, Fleur.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There is a certain…je ne sais quoi lacking when you’re not here.’

  ‘Ah. I rather like the sound of that,’ he replied gravely.

  ‘I rather thought you might but—enough of this!’ She released herself. ‘Since you are back, there’s one little person who has also been very worried about you. Come and say hi to Tom.’

  It wa
s a joyful reunion he shared with Tom. And things settled down once again, giving Fleur a chance at last to ponder her father’s words to her.

  Of course it hurt, she discovered, to think that Bryn had not been able to confide in her about his losing his photographer in such an horrific way, although it did explain why land-mines were his chosen cause. But was that the reason he had dropped out, she pondered, rather than Alana? And how long would he be happy living this life, she was forced to wonder as she remembered the odd times of discontent he’d exhibited.

  She’d resolved none of these matters when, a week after he had come out of hospital, she woke up one night and he wasn’t in bed beside her. She found him on the veranda, standing motionless. She switched on a lamp in the lounge and he turned convulsively, to stare at her as if she were an absolute stranger.

  ‘Bryn?’ She frowned and walked out to him to see that he was sweating and dishevelled. ‘What’s the matter? Your ribs? Your ankle?’

  She saw him attempt to relax. ‘No. Probably just something I ate.’

  ‘You cooked everything you ate, remember? It was your first night back.’

  ‘So I did. Perhaps I’ve picked up a virus.’

  She hesitated, not entirely convinced. ‘Come back to bed, then.’

  ‘Fleur—would you mind if I dossed down on the couch? I’ll probably toss and turn a bit and keep you awake.’

  ‘Yes, I would mind. Just tell me where it’s hurting and I’ll get you something first, though.’

  ‘It’s…’ He grimaced. ‘Just a headache, really. I’ll take an aspirin. And I will sleep on the couch, Mrs Wallis, so no arguments. Off you go!’

  She went back to bed reluctantly, remembering what an awful patient he was and how he hated to be fussed over, but the next morning he appeared to be restored to normal.

  ‘I wonder what it was?’ she said to him over breakfast in the restaurant. ‘I’ve checked with Julene and Eric, and Tom, and we’re all fine, so it couldn’t have been food.’

  ‘I probably overdid things a bit, as you’ve frequently told me. But I’m fine now!’ There was a certain determination with which this was said that caused her to think better of pursuing the issue any further.

  So she shrugged. ‘OK. Bryn, I really need you today.’

  ‘How very gratifying,’ he murmured and shot her a devilish little look.

  ‘I mean,’ she said severely, ‘I’m about to finalize your quarterly BAS—Business Activity Statement,’ she elucidated, ‘for GST purposes, but we need to run through it together.’

  ‘It will be my pleasure. Running through things with you is something I always enjoy.’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘This is serious, Bryn.’

  He lay back in his chair. ‘Haven’t I mentioned before how much I like it when you’re serious?’

  A little tremor ran through Fleur as she was reminded of a certain conversation they’d had on the subject—and what had followed. She looked at him judiciously. ‘I think it can wait for a day or so.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ he asked lazily.

  ‘Because I very much suspect…your intentions today.’

  ‘You mean you’ve divined that once Tom has gone to school I have every intention of taking you back to bed and keeping you there for as long as I please?’ he queried with a raised eyebrow.

  She looked around hurriedly but no one was in earshot. ‘Could that not be classed as doing too much?’ she responded.

  ‘Far from it. It could even be that seven days of living in celibacy with you may have benefited my ribs but not my sanity.’

  She opened her eyes at him. ‘Was that the problem last night? Why didn’t you…?’

  He laughed softly. ‘I really don’t know. Shall we do it?’

  ‘I can’t think why not.’

  ‘This is deliciously decadent,’ she said later as she lay in glorious disarray in his arms.

  ‘Mmm,’ he agreed. ‘Fleur, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  She stretched and the sunlight coming through the open shutter flickered up and down her body as it shone through a palm tree moving lazily in the breeze. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I need to go away for a couple of weeks. My father has to have an operation and he needs someone to hold the reins for him.’

  She sat up and pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Oh. Not serious, I hope?’ she asked with concern.

  ‘No, but a knee replacement, which can be tricky.’

  ‘That’s a relief, Bryn, but couldn’t Tom and I come with you?’

  There was a momentary silence, then, ‘I don’t think it would be much fun, for either of you. I’d rather you stayed here.’

  She turned to look down at him. ‘This all sounds a bit mysterious and…unexpected,’ she said slowly.

  ‘You were the one who forged a closer tie between me and my father,’ he murmured.

  She frowned. ‘Would you rather I hadn’t?’

  He sat up at last. ‘No. By the same token, I can no longer ignore his plight, if you know what I mean.’ He smiled briefly. ‘One of us in an ashram, the other a drop-out on a tropical island. But the real reason I’d like you to stay here is…so that I can think of you like this, with sunlight and shadows on your beautiful body, waiting for me, calling me back like a siren…’

  And he pushed her down onto the pillows gently so he could observe at his leisure, every inch of her and celebrate every inch of her until she was aquiver with desire and consumed by a need to give herself. She was taken in a way that reached new heights for them.

  The next morning she drove him to the resort, where there was a private plane waiting for him on the airstrip.

  She looked at it and felt a moment of sheer panic, which must have shown on her face because he said quietly, ‘Fleur, you know you’re just as safe with Eric as you are with me.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ But that hadn’t been her concern—the fear of being stalked had faded far into the back of her mind, to be replaced on this sunny morning by the sudden, irrational fear that Bryn would fly out of her life and never return. She swallowed and dredged up the routine she and Tom employed. ‘Stay cool, dude.’

  He responded in kind. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!’ And kissed her deeply before he got out and walked over to the plane, where the pilot was waiting for him. She waited until it had taken off then drove back towards Clam Cove. But on the crest of one of the hills there was a parking spot where you could pull off the road and enjoy the scenery. She did so and switched the engine off.

  The surface of the sea was wrinkled today and there were white caps but it was a warm breeze blowing—a reminder that summer was just around the corner. Summer, she thought. How would she cope with summer when the restaurant was closed? More to the point, how would she cope with not knowing what her future held? With a husband who was growing more and more like a closed book to her?

  She was not imagining it, she told herself. There was no real reason she and Tom couldn’t have gone to Brisbane with him. In his first year of school a two-week break wasn’t going to do Tom any harm, and with extra staff Julene and Eric were quite capable of running the restaurant.

  There was no reason why she couldn’t be told if his ‘drop-out’ life was starting to pall, or if that was why he needed something to pull him back to Clam Cove. Did he honestly think, she mused, she couldn’t see, behind his occasional remarks, a restlessness in him? The day on the jetty, for example, when she’d pointed out that their life was like one long holiday and he’d replied that perhaps they needed to work in a coal mine for a while.

  And what had really been behind his distress two nights ago?

  The thing was, the thought came to her out of all this, if he’d married her, if the real reason had been because Clam Cove was losing its charm and he needed a diversion, she had failed signally to provide one.

  ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No…do I believe that of him? But it was so unexpected, it was something he appeared to be fighting agains
t. Or was it even simpler—Tom needing a mother?’

  She closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she thought about that, and wondered why he couldn’t tell her about his life before Clam Cove? Or if he had any doubts that she hadn’t fallen totally in love with him? So many things, and then the thought that she’d fallen for the wrong man twice now…?

  ‘Eric,’ she said a couple of days later, when she was helping him to unload the fresh catch of the day from the dinghy, ‘did you know Alana?’

  ‘Yes. Not very well but both Julene and I met her a couple of times. Why?’

  ‘Do I remind you of her?’

  Eric considered. ‘Yes, at first. Now, not at all. And it was always hard to pin down.’ He frowned. ‘The way you walked perhaps, something…a little bit sad about you.’

  Fleur winced inwardly and changed the subject. ‘It must have been terrible for Bryn when he lost his photographer. Did you know him then?’

  Eric straightened and regarded her seriously. ‘Yes, I did. We worked for the same news agency at the time. I was part of the back-up team. Has he been having nightmares again?’

  Fleur released a shaky little breath and closed her eyes. Of course, that explained it. She lifted her lashes. ‘Yes, although he doesn’t like to talk about it. How…how did you know?’

  Eric gestured towards the main bungalow. ‘I asked him once if he still had trouble sleeping because I used to see his light on sometimes. That’s when he told me. I think it’s an occupational hazard, if you’ve been in that line of work. I sometimes can’t sleep. But I didn’t go through anything like what Bryn did.’

  Fleur studied the day’s catch for a long moment. There was a nice haul of whiting, flathead and a couple of coral trout. ‘Do you think he’ll want to stay here forever?’

  He shrugged. ‘Julene and I were thinking of moving on, Fleur. But the other day he suggested we might like to consider caretaking the place during the summer. He didn’t say why but it made me wonder.’

  ‘Would you…consider that?’ she asked, carefully trying to conceal the shock in her voice.