by Miranda Lee
Bulldust, he thought. She hadn’t been going to contact him at all, not till this business with Jerry had made it necessary. She just couldn’t resist playing femme fatale.
‘I’ll bet you’re bored to tears down there in Hicksville,’ she went on a droll tone. ‘Country towns and country girls just don’t have what it takes to keep a city boy happy. And you’re a city boy, Jase,’ she said, with a low, wicked little laugh. ‘Through and through.’
He knew that. It had been a battle to adjust. But he had adjusted, and he liked his new life. Okay, so it wasn’t wildly exciting. There were no first nights at the opera; no dinner parties in penthouses overlooking the harbour; no all-night sex sessions to drive him out of his mind.
But such things were just passing moments of pleasure. They weren’t life, not the kind of life he wanted.
‘Actually, I’m not bored at all,’ he countered coolly. ‘I love it here. Fact is, I’m going to be married a fortnight tomorrow.’
She hardly missed a beat. ‘No kidding? What happened, Jase? Get some poor little country girl in trouble, did you?’
‘Trust you to think something like that. No, Adele, Emma isn’t pregnant.’
‘Emma. What a sweet goody-two-shoes name! Does she have a sweet goody-two-shoes nature to go with it? Or is she just a little bit naughty sometimes? Does she do for you what I used to do for you, darling? I can’t imagine you doing without that once in a while.’
‘Emma’s a nice girl, Adele,’ he said icily.
‘Nice, is she? Oh, poor Jase. I think you are going to be bored. But you can always drop up to Sydney once in a while. Make some excuse to the little wife. A conference is always good for a weekend away.’
‘I have no intention of doing any such thing, Adele. I left you seven months ago and you’re staying left.’
She laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. ‘You won’t forget me that easily, Jase. You might pretend to, but when you’re lying in bed with your nice little wife, and having sweet goody-two-shoes sex every night, you’ll think of me. I’ll guarantee it.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it, sweetheart,’ he snapped back. ‘Thank you for doing the right thing by Jerry. It surprises me you didn’t just give him an antacid tablet and send him home to die. I guess even the worst doctor in the world gets it right occasionally. Don’t call me again, Adele. Goodbye.’
He was shaking by the time he hung up. Literally shaking. He dropped the phone on the passenger seat and lowered his sweating forehead onto the steering wheel, glowering down at his lap and the evidence of what she’d done to him with just her voice.
Slowly, he pulled himself together, and put his logical mind into gear. Old tapes playing in his head, he decided. Not love. He’d lived with the woman for three years, made love to her countless times, become addicted to her brand of sex. Hard to wipe out any addiction in a few months. She was like a bad habit which was difficult to toss. Yes, his body had responded—out of habit, not out of true feeling. He refused to believe differently.
You won’t forget me that easily, Jase…
He groaned, gunned the engine and headed for Tindley.
He didn’t tell Emma the woman doctor who’d called was Adele. He wouldn’t have told her it was a woman doctor at all except Nancy knew. And what Nancy knew the whole of Tindley would know, eventually. Thank God Adele hadn’t given her Christian name!
He lied to Emma a second time as well, saying this particular lady doctor was a colleague from a different surgery from the one he’d worked at. She’d been given his number by Jerry, he said. Women doctors were common amongst GPs, he’d added, when she’d looked worried.
They weren’t evil lies, he reasoned. Just little white lies so that Emma would not feel badly or think worrying things while he was away for the weekend.
He might have taken her with him, except he didn’t trust Adele not to show up at the hospital some time. He wasn’t fooled by her nonchalant attitude over the phone. Adele hadn’t taken at all well to the ‘woman scorned’ label. After his verbal insults today, he had no doubt she would love the opportunity to put a spanner in the works of his happiness. He didn’t think she’d go out of her way to do that—such as a trip to Tindley—but his coming to Sydney was an opportunity she might seize. Someone as soft and sensitive as Emma would be a perfect victim for her brand of malice. Adele would leave no stone unturned to cut away at any confidence Emma had in their marriage working.
No, Emma and Adele had to be kept apart.
Fortunately, Emma was up to her eyes making her wedding dress, and was planning on finishing it that weekend. Jason was glad he didn’t have to argue against her coming with him, as that might have made her suspicious. She didn’t seem to mind his going, either. She could be a very independent little thing, happy with her own company.
Jason liked her independence. And her lack of material greed. He’d offered to buy her a dress if she couldn’t afford one, but she’d refused. She’d given him a warm look at the time and said no, she wanted to make her dress. She was a good seamstress, she’d said, and he didn’t doubt it. Her tapestries and collages were incredible, and snapped up by buyers the moment they were displayed on the sweet shop walls.
Not that she made much money out of them. The materials and framing ate into her profit. But it was a satisfying hobby and one which had brought in some good pocket money over the years, she’d explained when he’d wanted to discuss her financial situation. Not that he wanted any of her money, he’d quickly added. Whatever she earned was hers to do with as she pleased. Plus anything she inherited from Ivy. He wanted none of it.
She’d listened carefully, then told him Ivy hadn’t owned much except the house and shop. He’d been dead right about the shop not bringing in much income as well. Less than twenty thousand a year. Still, Emma said she wanted to keep on working in the shop after their marriage, at least till she had a baby to care for, after which she’d find someone to run it. She didn’t want to sell, or even rent out the rest of house. She was going to turn those rooms into a craft club, where the local women could come and work and chat and have a good time.
Jason thought that was a great idea, and said so. He supposed she wouldn’t have got much for the rent, and what was money, anyway? It didn’t make you happy. He was seeing that more and more these days.
Of course, it wasn’t good to be poor, either.
But enough was enough.
‘When will you be back?’ Emma asked him as she watched him pack. She was sitting on the bed which would eventually be their marriage bed, a huge high brass number which had the comfiest of mattresses and didn’t squeak, thankfully.
He looked at her sitting there, swinging her dainty feet, and felt an overwhelming surge of desire. What would she do, he wondered, if he started making love to her, not gently, but fiercely? If he pushed her back on the bed and mercilessly took her past the point of no return?
He could do it. He knew he could.
He’d felt the rising sexual tension in her over the weeks of waiting, weeks when he’d kissed her and held her, cuddled and caressed her till they were both breathing heavily and both wanting more. Last night, however, she’d totally lost it, which had been good for his ego but bad for his own level of frustration. She’d actually begged him not to stop, and it had taken one heck of an effort to deny her, with his hand sliding up under her dress at the time.
But he had, telling her highly agitated self that he knew she’d hate him afterwards if he went on. They only had to last two more weeks. What was two weeks when compared to a lifetime?
She’d shaken her head at him, her face flushed, her whole body still trembling. ‘I wish I’d never started this nonsense.’
‘It’s not nonsense, Emma. It’s sweet, and it’s special, as you are special. I can’t say I was thrilled by the idea in the beginning. But now I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
She’d looked up at him with something close to love in her eyes, and he’d been blown away. He tho
ught of that look now and abandoned all plans of a forced seduction. She would not look at him like that afterwards. He was sure of that as well.
‘I can’t say when I’ll be back,’ he told her truthfully. ‘It’ll depend on Jerry’s condition. But I’ll keep you posted. I have to be back to do morning surgery on Monday. At the very latest I could drive back very early Monday morning. At least the traffic wouldn’t be so bad then.’ With the advent of warmer weather, the tourist season was on the move again, and the Princes Highway was always busy.
‘I’ll miss you,’ she said softly. He glanced over his shoulder at her and their eyes locked. Hers were like large, shimmering green pools, and he felt himself dissolving. Her mouth looked soft and inviting, as did her whole body, clothed as usual in one of her softly flowing feminine dresses. It was a simple and sweet style, with tiny mauve flowers all over it.
He wanted to rip it to shreds.
‘I’ll miss you too,’ he returned, but stayed with his packing. Hell, if he kissed her now…
She fell silent, and he glanced over his shoulder a second time. Her hands were in her lap and she was twisting her engagement ring around and around. The diamond sparkled in the sunshine which was coming in the window and slanting across the bed. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but it was what she’d chosen. Four smaller emeralds flanked the shoulders, the same green as her lovely eyes. He planned on giving her a matching eternity ring on their wedding night. The jeweller had secretly made it up for him after she’d chosen her engagement ring and he was to collect it next week.
‘Is there something wrong, Emma?’ he asked.
She looked up and smiled a taut little smile. ‘No, I suppose not. I’m being silly. It’s just that I had this feeling. You know…like someone was walking over my grave? A premonition. You…you will be careful, won’t you, Jason? I mean, driving around those busy Sydney roads.’
He came over and sat down beside her, taking her by the shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. ‘I’ll be very careful,’ he promised. ‘Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop me coming back to you.’
‘You promise?’
‘You have my solemn oath.’
Her sigh was deep. ‘That’s all right, then.’
Without kissing her, he rose and returned to his packing.
The trip up was a nightmare. Too many cars and trucks, and too many hold-ups. The road being dug up in too many places.
And then it started to rain.
It was well after dark by the time he turned his car into the hospital car park, later by the time he found Jerry’s ward. His new watch said ten to nine as he strode up to the ward work station where he introduced himself as a doctor as well as Jerry’s brother, thereby stopping any officious nonsense about it being after visiting hours. Then he asked if he could speak to the specialist in charge of Jerry’s case.
The sister, who was an attractive woman in her thirties, smiled at him and said that unfortunately he wouldn’t be able to speak to that particular doctor till morning. But Jerry’s GP was somewhere in the building. Also unfortunately, they’d given his brother a sedative not long before, and he was probably asleep. But he was welcome to sit by his brother for as long as he liked. He was in 4F, last room down on the left.
Jason walked down the highly polished corridor to 4F, a long thin room which had six beds, though only four were filled. Jerry was lying in the furthest bed from the door. He had a window with a view over the city, but Jerry wasn’t seeing any view at the moment. He was sound asleep.
Adele, Jason saw with some relief, was nowhere in sight. But he had no doubt she would show up soon. The thought rattled him somewhat.
He found thankful distraction in his brother’s condition, inspecting Jerry’s pupils and taking his pulse. When he read the chart at the foot of the bed, Jason felt momentarily nauseous at how touch and go it had been. Jerry’s blood pressure had been appallingly low at one time, his temperature sky-high. He’d had seizures during the night as well.
No doubt he should have been in an intensive care unit, but he was a non-paying public patient, so what could you expect? Not presidential treatment, that was for sure. Still, things seemed to have stabilised, and he would probably pull through. He looked like hell, though.
Jason put the chart back and walked over to the window. He stared down at the city lights. Pretty spectacular-looking. Certainly not the unsophisticated colonial outpost the rest of world occasionally imagined. Sydney throbbed during the day, and hummed at night. It was an exciting and beautiful city, full of exciting and beautiful people.
‘Hello, Jase… I’ve been waiting for you…’
Her husky voice curled around his gut and pulled him slowly round.
The sight of her, however, had a surprisingly different effect.
She was standing there at the foot of Jerry’s bed, wearing one of those sexy little black numbers which had always turned him on. Not a suit, this time, but a dress, a short, chic crêpe sheath which looked as if it had been sewn on, it was so tight. The blatant outline of erect nipples shouted she wasn’t wearing a bra, which wasn’t a surprise. When did Adele ever wear a bra?
The shortness of the skirt suggested she’d opted against suspenders in favour of sheer shiny black pantyhose, the expensive kind which never ran, no matter how many times they were man-handled. Her feet were shod in the sort of sexy strappy high heels guaranteed to raise most men’s blood pressure.
Jason’s heart didn’t miss a beat.
She sashayed a little closer, perhaps to show him she could walk in them quite well.
Practice did give one a wide range of professional skills, he thought cynically, as his eyes raked over her.
She took his thorough appraisal for interest, fairly preening before him. What she didn’t know was the reality of her had had the opposite effect of her voice over the phone. That had stirred old memories, those old tapes in his head. Powerful old tapes. Adele in the flesh stirred nothing in him but a rueful surprise that he’d ever found her attractive, let alone addictive.
After being with someone as genuinely lovely as Emma—inside and out—Adele looked the hard piece she basically was. Her short dyed black hair was too harsh around her too pale make-up. She was wearing too much black around her eyes, too dark a lipstick on her full mouth and too much perfume all over her body. It fairly swamped him in its overpoweringly musky scent.
Sure, she still had a striking figure, with legs up to her armpits, but even that was now too much. He preferred Emma’s tiny daintiness. He preferred Emma’s lack of artifice. He preferred everything about Emma.
The worry that he might still be harbouring a lasting passion for Adele disappeared like a magician’s assistant, and the relief was overwhelming. He was free of her at last. Free to forge a future with Emma without any hangovers from the past. His elation produced a real high.
He looked up at Adele’s sultry face and laughed.
She pouted angrily. ‘Why are you laughing at me like that?’
‘I wasn’t laughing at you, Adele. I was laughing at myself.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I’ve been a fool. Look, I don’t hold any malice towards you, Adele, but you’re wasting your time here. Go and find yourself another poor ignorant idiot you can infatuate with your undoubtedly skilful technique. I don’t want it—or you—any more.’
Disbelief soon gave way to a dark determination. ‘Give me five minutes and I’ll bet I could change your mind about that.’
‘Five minutes? Here and now?’
‘Right here and right now,’ she mouthed provocatively. ‘Jerry’s unconscious. We could pull the curtain around his bed.’ She began to do just that, the action bringing her closer.
He snatched the curtain out of her hands and threw it back, eyeing her with a savage look which rooted her to the spot. ‘Now listen to me, you miserable excuse for a human being and a doctor,’ he hissed. ‘I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last woman on earth a
nd the existence of the human race depended on it. You make my skin crawl, do you know that? Which is what you should be doing. Crawling, like the low-life serpent you are. Go crawl on back into your hole, darling, and give us decent folk some fresh air to breathe.’
She didn’t say a word, just stared at him, her cold black eyes filling with hate.
He knew he’d gone too far. Far too far. But it was too late now.
Still without saying a word, she spun round on those dangerously high stilettos, and, without teetering a millimetre, stalked from the room.
Jason was left to watch her go, and to worry about what form her vengeance might take.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS a worrisome weekend, despite Jerry making a good recovery on the Saturday, and despite several phone calls to Emma eliciting a happy brightness from her which Jason doubted could be faked. The dreaded Adele had clearly not zapped down to Tindley during his absence to stir up trouble.
Each phone call home should have brought relief. Instead, it created more tension in him, an irrational fear that everything he’d been working towards and looking forward to was about to be destroyed. His relationship with Emma. Their marriage. His future.
He set off for the five-hour drive back to Tindley mid-afternoon on Sunday, leaving behind a much improved Jerry, but taking with him an escalating tension. He had to stop himself from speeding, only his promise to Emma to drive carefully holding him back.
But he wanted to see her for himself and make sure everything was all right. He drove into Tindley shortly after seven, parked outside the sweet shop and went straight round to her back door, knocking impatiently.
The moment she opened it, he knew he was too late. For as long as he lived Jason would always remember her expression at that moment. Never had he seen such dismay and despair. Her face was dead white, her eyes red-rimmed. That she’d been crying for hours was obvious.
