To think that a few cells on the inside of her cheek could dictate the rest of her life.
‘You coming?’ Madeleine opened the passenger door and Charlie realised they’d already got Rick out and into the wheelchair.
No, she wanted to say. Why couldn’t someone just pinch her and wake her up? ‘Okay.’ She nodded, picking up her patchwork handbag from the floor of the van.
Charlie took Madeleine’s lead and followed her into the building and over to the reception desk, aware of Mitch and Rick close behind.
‘How can I help you?’ asked a grey-haired woman with a stern face and glasses.
‘Appointment for Charlotte Patterson and Richard McDonald,’ Madeleine said, slightly leaning over the counter.
The woman scanned her computer, then picked up two clipboards. ‘Which of you are Charlotte and Richard?’
Charlie raised her hand at the same time as Rick said, ‘I’m Richard.’
The woman thrust a clipboard at each of them. ‘Fill in these forms and take a seat. Your names will be called soon.’
‘Thank you,’ Charlie managed.
The four of them walked over to a row of plastic chairs. Mitch positioned the wheelchair on the edge and sat down next to it. Charlie sat beside him, the little hairs on her arms standing up at being so close. She swallowed and tried to focus on the page.
‘Do you want me to fill it in?’ Madeleine asked a few moments later.
Charlie glanced sideways and saw Mitch busy filling in the answers for his dad, his tongue poking slightly out of his mouth in concentration. Damn, he was cute.
‘Yes, please.’ She nodded and handed her sister the clipboard. Madeleine didn’t have to ask Charlie about most of the answers, so Charlie sat there, her hands pressed tightly down on her knees to try and stop them jittering.
When Madeleine had finished, Mitch took both clipboards across to the desk.
‘Will we go in together?’ Charlie asked her sister.
Madeleine shook her head. ‘I doubt it. They’ll call you both separately.’
As Mitch returned to their seats, a tall thin woman in a white uniform appeared at the edge of the waiting room. ‘Richard McDonald,’ she called, scanning the faces on the plastic chairs.
‘Come on, Dad.’ Mitch grabbed hold of the wheelchair and started after the woman.
Charlie’s throat felt dry.
‘Do you want me to come in when it’s your turn?’ Madeleine asked.
‘No, thanks.’ She lifted her hand to touch her neck. ‘But do you reckon you can find a vending machine or something for when we’re finished? I’m parched.’
‘Sure. There’ll be something in the hospital. I’ll be back soon.’ Madeleine stood quickly.
Charlie watched her go and took a deep breath as she disappeared through the door. She stretched across and picked a tattered copy of New Idea from the table in the middle of the waiting room.
Flicking aimlessly, she’d barely glanced at a few pages when Mitch and Rick reappeared.
‘All done,’ Mitch said, repositioning his dad’s wheelchair and then sitting back down beside Charlie. He hit her with a warm, comforting smile that almost unravelled her. She wanted to hold his hand, wanted him to come into the treatment with her as support. How could he possibly be her brother? Could life really be that screwed up?
‘Charlotte Patterson.’
Not used to her full name, Charlie blinked as the woman in white called her up.
‘Where’s Madeleine?’ Mitch asked.
‘Gone to get me a drink,’ she replied, not daring to look at him as she stood.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No,’ she said, unable to resist turning to look at him. She smiled. ‘I’ll be fine.’
And then she walked off to start the ball rolling on what could be the worst news of her life.
*
Madeleine stared at the ancient coffee machine in the waiting area of the main hospital and then decided to get a selection of cool drinks from the vending machine next to it instead. Bad coffee simply wouldn’t cut it. The drive to Port Augusta had been painful. The tension between her sister and her old friend was excruciating. They’d been so loved up yesterday morning, but now they could barely bring themselves to look into each other’s eyes.
She’d wanted to say something to break the heartbreaking silence but small talk had never been her forte. That’s why she’d chosen not to become a GP; she couldn’t stand the thought of nattering to all those pensioners day in day out, simply because they had no one at home to talk to. She sighed as she dug around in her purse, slotted coins into the machine and pressed the different buttons, stooping each time a drink fell into the bottom. Unsure what either Mitch or Charlie would feel like, she bought a Diet Coke for herself and a selection of other soft drinks, juices and water.
And then there was Rick. Maybe she shouldn’t but she felt for him also. He’d been carrying around this guilty secret for years, no doubt dreading but also half hoping that it might come out. If Charlie was his daughter then it had been wrong of their mother to cover it up. No matter how painful it might have been, she should have known the truth would come out eventually.
Her head aching, she gathered up the drinks in her arms and started back towards the exit. She’d barely walked two steps when someone called her name.
‘Madeleine?’ Assuming there must be another person with the same name somewhere nearby, she turned anyway and saw a giant of a man striding towards her wearing blue scrubs. As he approached she saw he was all hard muscle and tanned skin, and his face gave new meaning to the word chiselled.
‘Dylan?’ Her mind jolted in recognition.
‘Long time no see,’ said the man whom she’d spent almost a decade studying with at university. A man who looked better in scrubs than any other man she’d known. Even Hugo. He smiled as he nodded towards the drinks in her arms. ‘I’d shake your hand, but I’m scared you’d drop your bundle.’
She half-laughed, half-snorted and one can slipped from her grasp. Dylan caught it and held it up like he’d caught her out in a game of baseball.
‘Thanks,’ she said as he balanced it back on the top of the drink pile. A zillion questions were running through her mind about why he was here in Port Augusta—obviously working, though he’d never given her the impression he’d choose to work in the country—but he got in first.
‘How are you doing? Last I heard you were living in the States.’
She smiled. ‘Your contacts are only slightly out of date. I’ve been back all of three days. Still slightly jet lagged.’
‘But you’re home for good? In South Australia? Didn’t your folks live not far from here? Have you got a job lined up?’
‘I thought you were a doctor, not a journalist.’
‘Sorry.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘Just curious.’
She licked her lips. ‘Home in Australia for good. Not sure about where exactly. I haven’t started looking for work.’
‘You’re having a … holiday?’ He looked horrified at the idea, which made her laugh.
‘I’m not exactly sure,’ she admitted. ‘It’s a long story. So, you work here?’
‘Yup.’ He nodded. ‘Been here six months. Loving every minute of it.’
‘And … is Alice working in town too?’ Madeleine had heard on the grapevine years ago that he’d married his high school sweetheart. She wasn’t a doctor but they’d been together a long time and she’d come to a lot of social events with him when they were at university. Madeleine had had a mega crush on Dylan—as had every other girl in their year—but he’d never so much as flirted with any of them.
He grimaced and shook his head. ‘Alice and I parted ways just over a year ago. The divorce is almost through. I needed to get away from Melbourne and our life there.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ And while she meant it, she couldn’t help the little leap in her heart at the thought that he was now single.
He shrugged.
‘These things happen. People grow apart. Women fall into other men’s beds.’ He chuckled as if this didn’t hurt and Madeleine wondered if Alice had a few screws loose. Why stray when you had someone like Dylan to come home to? But then, her own mother had strayed, hadn’t she?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, hating how inadequate it sounded.
‘I’m over it, really. I’m just glad we didn’t have kids yet. What about you? Married? Mortgaged? Children?’
‘No to all of the above.’ A sad sigh slipped from her lips before she could catch it.
‘Are you going to tell me who all those drinks are for then?’ he asked, nodding towards her collection. ‘Looks like you’re about to have a party.’
‘I wish. I’m here with my sister. She’s getting tests done in pathology and said she was thirsty.’
He frowned. ‘I hope nothing serious.’
Madeleine shook her head. ‘Not health-wise. Look, it was so good seeing you, but I’d better be getting back to her.’
‘Sure. Of course.’ He nodded and then shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘Well, I might see you round,’ she said, not making a move to leave.
‘If you’re not busy some night and feel like catching up for a drink, you want to give me a call?’ he asked, not quite meeting her gaze.
She moistened her bottom lip, delighted by this prospect. ‘You’d have to give me your number.’
There it was; his irresistible grin. ‘You got your phone on you?’
‘In my pocket.’ She nodded towards her thigh, trying to work out how to wrangle it out without dropping all the drinks.
‘Allow me.’ And then, he slipped his fingers into the top pocket of her skinny jeans and pulled out her iPhone. Her legs quivered at the interaction and she prayed he didn’t notice her increased breathing rate. She watched as he slid his finger across the screen to unlock it and then started punching his details into her contacts list.
When he’d finished, he slipped the phone right back into place, his fingers again brushing her thigh and making everything inside her feel like liquid.
‘Call me,’ he said.
‘I will,’ she promised, hoping her voice didn’t sound as husky as it felt.
‘And I hope your sister’s okay.’
‘Thanks.’ She finally turned to walk away, a wide smile on her face and a spring in her step as she headed outside and back to the pathology unit.
Charlie, Mitch and Rick were outside waiting for her. One look at the dejected, resigned look on their faces had her tamping down her smile and feeling guilty that she’d been enjoying seeing an old friend while her sister had been having the scariest test of her life.
‘All done?’ she asked as she approached them.
‘Yep.’ Three glum faces nodded back at her.
Not long after the wannabe grey nomads left on their trip and Charlie, Madeleine and Mitch set off for Port Augusta, another surprise visitor turned up at the motel. Lucinda had sent Abigail and Nigel off for a tour of town and cake at Rosie Jean’s and was settling into some work at the reception desk to try and distract her thoughts from Charlie and Mitch when the door opened and the bell above it tingled.
She glanced up, ready to paste on a smile for a guest and her mouth fell open.
‘Hi Luce.’ Joe stepped inside, the door clanged shut behind him and he dropped his backpack to the floor.
‘Joe?’ Tingles flushed through her body as she gaped at her husband.
He grinned. ‘Last time I checked. How are you?’
She forced herself to breathe. The answer to that question was complicated, as was knowing what to do now the man she’d been separated from stood before her looking like he’d just stepped off an Italian football team’s charity calendar. Part of her wanted to rush around the desk and throw herself at him, to kiss him like they hadn’t kissed since they were first dating. But she wasn’t sure how he’d react. Maybe she needed to tread carefully.
Was there a protocol in situations such as this?
‘I’m—’ she paused a moment ‘—very happy to see you.’
‘I’m glad. When you called last night and told me about Charlie and said you couldn’t come home yet, I knew what I had to do. I’m supposed to head back to work tomorrow, but I told my boss I needed to take some urgent family leave. I had to see you. I flew out on the red-eye and hired a car when I landed. Drove straight here.’
‘The car hire places at Adelaide Airport must be making a killing from our family.’
He laughed and then she couldn’t hold back any longer. Despite shaky legs, she pushed herself off the swivel chair and walked around the desk right into his arms. They didn’t kiss but his hands closed around her back and they stood there together, just holding each other. Lucinda inhaled deeply, loving the familiar scent of her husband. Meadow Brook might be the Pattersons’ home, but Joe was hers.
‘Are you checking to see if my clothes are clean?’ he asked with a chuckle.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m checking to see if you’re real. I missed you, Joe.’
‘You too, babe. When you told me everything that was going on here, I had to come to make sure you were okay. Are you sure you’re okay?’ He looked down into her eyes, his expression serious.
She knew he was referring to the baby and she nodded. ‘I’m just worried about Charlie and Mitch. And I can’t believe Mum cheated on Dad. That’s just—’
‘People make mistakes, Luce. Everyone. They do things they’re not proud of.’
She swallowed. ‘Are you talking about us?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, but the important thing is to make it right in the end. Now, are you going to make me a cup of coffee or what?’
Chapter Fifty
The next few days were agonising, and by the end of the week Charlie felt like she was losing the plot. The routine of the motel kept everyone going and they put a good face on for the guests, but whenever she and her sisters were alone the conversation went straight back to ‘the McDonald issue’—as she’d come to call it in her head.
Have you talked to Mitch today? Do you really think Mum had an affair? How could she have done that to Dad? What else might she have kept from us?
And then there was the big one: Should we tell him?
Charlie understood their need to talk, to analyse, but she couldn’t cope with their emotions on top of her own. As if the question inside her own head wasn’t enough to deal with right now.
Am I a Patterson or—heaven forbid—a McDonald?
This one thought kept going through her mind like a broken record. She would just about convince herself that she was who she’d always known herself to be—a Patterson—and then one of her sisters would say or do something that was so far from anything she’d ever say or do herself that she decided she must be a McDonald.
The uncertainly was driving her insane, as was her enforced separation from Mitch. He called her every night to check how she was coping but their conversations were brief and strained. It was breaking her heart but she couldn’t allow herself to feel connected to him. In the same way she couldn’t allow herself to think about the baby—it would hurt too much if she had to say goodbye. Occasionally she’d slip into a daydream, imagining the first time she felt it kick or what it might be like to hold it in her arms, but whenever she caught herself doing this she found something else to occupy her time.
Many hands were supposed to make light work but there were almost too many hands at the motel with all the sisters and Joe and Nigel chipping in. When they weren’t working, they were taking turns sticking close to her and mollycoddling. Charlie understood her sisters were worried, but she was beginning to feel as if she were a patient on suicide watch and they were all on roster to look out for her.
Even Nigel had been schooled in the ways of Charlie-sitting, but unlike the others she found his company soothing. He was the only one who didn’t ask her prying questions—perhaps because he didn’t know her well enough—and s
he could see why Abigail was smitten.
Still, sometimes Charlie wished she could run away in a caravan like Dad and Mrs Sampson.
‘I’m going into Port Augusta to visit Aunt Mags,’ she announced one morning when she could no longer cope with sitting around and waiting. She needed a break but she also wondered if maybe their aunt would have a better idea of how they should all handle this situation. Although Mags was Dad’s older sister, she could be trusted to keep this secret if that’s what they decided to do.
‘Oh, I’ll come too.’ Madeleine jumped at the opportunity for a few hours away from Meadow Brook and Charlie reluctantly accepted her company. At least she’d only have one sister—or half-sister; who knew?—in tow.
After finishing their motel duties—Charlie still in the kitchen and Madeleine once again battling with the room cleaning—they drove to the ‘entertainment centre’.
Charlie didn’t feel like talking and for part of the way Madeleine remained quiet too. She’d taken the wheel and looked to be intently staring at the road ahead even though she’d driven this trip a hundred times before. Then, out of the blue, she said, ‘I talked to Lorraine a couple of days ago.’
‘Who?’ Charlie racked her brain for a face to put to the name but came up blank.
‘You know … Wacky Wanda. Turns out her real name is Lorraine.’
Charlie sat up straighter and twisted to look properly at Madeleine. ‘Really? What was she like? Why haven’t you said anything?’
Madeleine half-chuckled. ‘It kind of slipped my mind after you came back from visiting Mitch’s dad, but I met her that morning when I went for my run.’
‘What did you say to her? Did she mention the curse?’ Now who was asking endless questions?
‘It was strange. Actually, no … You’d just told us about Mitch and the baby, and I was feeling ashamed of the way we’d latched onto the old tales about her. So I said hello and she surprised me by saying hello right back. We had quite a little chat. She’s a very strong, independent old woman. Not scary at all. Someone to be admired, not feared.’
‘I never bought into those stupid stories,’ Charlie said, but a cold flooded her body. Wanda—Lorraine—might be a harmless old dear, but that didn’t mean her mother hadn’t been a bitter harridan seeking to avenge her sister’s suicide. ‘Did you ask her about the curse?’
The Patterson Girls Page 44
