As he placed the glass of fizzing Lemonade in front of Harly, she said, “Thanks. Got a date lined up for tomorrow yet?”
“Hmm?” Picking up the glass of dark fizzing liquid, he took a sip and raised his eyebrows at her.
“I can’t help but notice that you’re catching the eyes of the some of the ladies around here.”
“Does that bother you?” he asked bluntly.
Surprised, she realised it did, but immediately she stomped that errant thought on the head. “No. Sorry, that was rude of me to ask.”
“Don’t apologise. You always were straightforward.” Alex took another sip of his drink before placing it on the table. “In some things.”
And there it was, the elephant in the room.
Taking a deep breath, she eased back in the seat. “Okay, Alex, let’s get this over with. Ask your questions.”
Again he studied her, his gaze scouring her face with that intensity that she had no doubt unnerved stronger people than she’d ever be, but no way did it effect her.
At all.
Okay, maybe it did a little, but damned if she was going to admit it to anyone. Bad enough she could feel a mental shiver course through her.
At first she thought he wasn’t going to speak, then she realised why when the barmaid suddenly appeared at their table to place a bowl of chips between them. She smiled at Alex, cast a rather flinty look at Harly and walked away, leaving them alone once more.
Reaching over, Alex took a chip and crunched it in half, his gaze never leaving Harly. Chewing slowly, he gestured to the bowl.
She shook her head.
“Bacon flavour,” he offered.
“No thanks.” Just get on with it!
Popping the chip into his mouth, he picked out another one and lifted it up.
“I thought we were going to talk?” she said.
“I eat when I’m nervous.”
Startled, she blinked. “What?”
“Sorry, poor joke. I’m just a little hungry.” Leaning back in the booth, he ate the chip, took a sip of drink, placed the glass back on the table, looked her right in the eyes and said, “Let’s start.”
Four
Harly might appear to be in control, but Alex noted her moistening her full bottom lip nervously and the way her fingers entwined right before she put them on her lap out of his sight.
It was true, time had been kind to Harly. She’d grown from a pretty, shy, overweight girl to a pretty, more confident woman. True, she was still full figured, though he preferred the term generously curved, but time and maturity had given her a quieter, self-assured air.
Sitting opposite him, the light overhead cast a gleam in her silken black hair. Her eyes, those startlingly pale grey eyes, seemed to hold a million secrets, and he’d seen them darken like storm clouds when she was upset, and be perfectly clear when she was sitting as she did now.
They’d also shimmered with passion, gazing up at him as he’d thrust inside her, her lush lips moist from his kisses, her - Cutting off the thoughts abruptly, he raised the glass of Coke to his mouth for a fortifying mouthful. The memories were from another time, and the result of that memory was what held his interest.
Straightening her shoulders, she returned his direct gaze. “I’m not sure where to start. As we both know, most of it was said last night. I’m not sure what else there is to say.”
“I just want to know more.” His smiled slightly, trying to be reassuring. “With both of us in a much calmer state.”
She thought about this for a few seconds before nodding slowly. “Okay, I understand that. Maybe you should just ask me questions and I’ll answer them. Or try to.”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Fair enough.”
The answer didn’t seem to relax her any, she continued to watch him with a touch of wariness.
“You missed two periods before you knew you were pregnant.” It came out a statement, not a question, but she answered it anyway.
“I was scared when I missed the first one. I’ve always been regular.” Her round cheeks flushed but she didn’t look away. “When the second one was missed, I knew. I took a pregnancy test and it was positive.”
“You were scared.” Another statement.
“Shit scared. But oddly exhilarated, too. It’s kind of hard to explain.” She shook her head. “I’d already had a month of wondering, of thinking if I was pregnant would it be a boy or girl? What could I do about it? I wasn’t going to abort it, as I said before, but I knew my parents would be mortified when they found out. So I kept it a secret.”
“Did you feel it move?” He really wanted to know.
“I wasn’t far enough along for that. I was only nine weeks pregnant. It didn’t even show.”
Nine weeks. His baby had been inside her for nine weeks. “Your parents must have noticed you being sick every morning.”
She shook her head. “After about a week, I didn’t get much sickness at all, so it was put down to a tummy bug of some kind. I didn’t even know at first and I just suspected it when I missed my first monthly.”
“You must be one of the few women to not suffer much morning sickness.”
Harly shrugged. “I guess.”
Shifting slightly in the booth, he stretched out his legs to a more comfortable position. “When you knew for sure, it didn’t cross your mind that sooner or later you’d have to tell someone?”
“I was shit scared to tell my parents. I didn’t have a plan, I was panicked.”
“You had to tell someone, surely? A close friend?”
She shook her head. “I never really had a close friend.”
“How did you think you were going to get away with it?”
“I hadn’t got that far before…” She sighed. “No, that’s not quite true. I started to think that maybe I should shift to the city, try to get a job. Something.”
“A sixteen year old raising a baby and paying rent, trying to work? Even that should have struck you as a near impossible task.” Had she really contemplated it? Watching the flash of anger in her eyes, he could believe that she had thought about it.
“Yes,” she replied, “I knew it was just about impossible. I had no friends or contacts in the city. You’re right, the truth occurred to me even as I tried to think of a way.”
He held up one hand, palm outward in a gesture of peace while keeping his voice quiet and calm. “I hear you. I’m not judging now, Harly, I just want to know more details.”
Calming down, she sighed and picked up the glass of Lemonade, taking a few mouthfuls.
He waited until she’d placed the glass back down on the table before continuing. “Did you have any idea that you were going to lose the baby?”
“I’d had a couple of cramps during the day, but I thought I’d eaten something. At dinner that night the cramps started to come faster and harder.” Harly took a deep breath.
Suddenly Alex realised that however much he wanted to hear about it, those memories probably hurt. “I’m sorry, Harly. If this is too hard…” They could still talk about what happened without going into details.
“It’s all right.” Those clear grey eyes looked at him and she smiled slightly. “It was a long time ago, Alex. I was just a kid. A scared kid, true, but just a kid. Basically, as soon as I started to lose the blood and had the cramping, the doctor suspected what was happening and asked me if I’d missed my monthlies and if so, how many. As soon as he told my parents what was happening, Mum put the phone down from where she’d been dialling for an ambulance.” There was a slight flash of pain in her eyes before her lashes slid down to hide it. “She asked if I’d be all right, he thought so, said they could wait a bit longer and see. The bleeding didn’t last long and I wasn’t in any danger. I was packed off to bed and when I got up the next morning I found that arrangements had been made for me to go to the city to have a ‘clean-out’, as Mum angrily put it. Dad could barely look at me. I was driven down that afternoon, had the procedure the next day, and was back
at school by the beginning of the following week.”
“Jesus.” He knew his own parents wouldn’t have acted like that with his sister, Cindy. They’d have had an ambulance immediately, then hospital and counselling for her, and then, once she was okay, they’d have been mad at her. She’d have had a lecture that would have left her ears ringing for weeks.
“But they stayed with you, right?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Your mum? She did give you some comfort, right?”
Harly looked at him expressionlessly.
“Afterwards? Once the shock died down?”
“No.”
“Your dad?” His heart sunk a little.
“No.”
“You’re their daughter, Harly. Regardless of what happened, you were still their daughter.”
“I was a disappointment to them, Alex. They were disappointed and furious, and when I got home from hospital they sat me down in Dad’s home office and told me…” Voice trailing off, she stared distantly at the wall behind Alex.
After several seconds, he quietly prodded, “Told you what, Harly?”
“I was a disappointment to them. I was never to speak of the incident ever again; it was now the family’s secret shame.” Her eyes refocussed on him.
“And you say they love you?” He was incredulous.
“In their own way.”
Draining the glass of Coke, he placed it back on the table, trying to quell the spark of anger that fired to life inside him. It wasn’t as though Harly had been a wild teenager, sleeping around with anyone and everyone. They should have realised it had been an accident and - another thought struck him. “Surely they asked who the father was?”
“No. It was made perfectly clear that they didn’t want to know. Ever.” She angled her head down a little as she smoothed her finger along a small gouge in the wooden table. A long lock of dark hair slipped free from behind her ear to brush across her cheek. “It was over.”
He had to fight the unexpected urge to lean forward and push the silken strands back behind her small ear. “You never told anyone?”
“No.”
“You were scared and alone. You could have rung me.”
“I told you-”
“Yes,” he cut in, a little impatiently. “You didn’t want to ruin my life.”
“Yes.” The agreement was so soft he almost didn’t hear it.
Those thick eyelashes lifted again and she looked at him.
The knowledge he’d gained from the story, of how her parents had reacted, suddenly jolted him with clarity, with new knowledge that was both unwelcome and enlightening. It was like a rock smacking into the side of his head.
“Jesus,” he whispered in soft astonishment.
Startled, she blinked.
“Jesus,” he repeated. “What an idiot.”
She stiffened and started to sit back.
“No.” Reaching out, he grabbed her hand, refusing to let go when she tugged. “Not you, Harly. Me. I’m the idiot.”
“Huh?” She stared at him in equal astonishment.
“You didn’t just want to set me free,” he stated. “You were also scared to tell me.”
The answer was in the way she bit her lip.
“You were scared to let your parents know because you knew what the response would be. You thought I’d react the same way.”
“I…I just…” A flush building in her cheeks, she glanced away.
“You thought I’d get mad, be disgusted like your parents. Harly, you were afraid to tell me because you were afraid of me.”
“Oh, Alex, I didn’t - I wouldn’t-”
He squeezed her hand firmly, stopping her words. “Look at me.” When she didn’t comply straight away, he repeated with more firmness, “Look at me.”
Shoulders slumping, she obeyed with a sigh. “You’re right. Part of the reason was because I was afraid.”
“But why?” He couldn’t understand it. “I’d never been mean to you, never hurt you. Why were you afraid?”
“You had a temper back then. You were mad last night.”
“Because I had no idea that you were too afraid to tell me.” He shook her hand a little in frustration. “I still deserved to know, but I had no idea that you were afraid of me. I’d never have laid a finger on you. I…” It was his turn to stop talking.
Was she still afraid of him? The wariness in her eyes was of him.
That bloody hurt. It also made him bloody mad, but no way could he let her see that, so he took a deep breath to steady himself, forcing the anger back, bringing in the composure he’d worked so hard at to control his temper.
Yeah, he’d had a bad temper when younger, but maturity had taught him a lot, as had the war and being a Sergeant in the Australian Army. Life had a way of retraining a person and making them realise what was important.
Harly was watching him guardedly.
Alex managed a small smile. “Stop sweating, Harly. I’m not going to leap over the table and strangle you.”
“Saving that for another day?”
The unexpected wry answer elicited a brief laugh from him. “No. Never.”
“Okay.” She looked down at their hands.
Following her gaze, he saw that somehow his hand had turned beneath hers and now their fingers were entwined. He certainly didn’t remember doing it.
Several things registered at once. Her hands were soft, her fingers pale against his tanned skin, and she had little calluses that brushed against his much larger ones.
In an odd way, their clasped hands also felt very right.
The realisation was unsettling, so he released her hand and sat back, gesturing to the barmaid. She came across and he ordered another Coke for himself and Lemonade for Harly. They sat in contemplative silence the drinks were delivered.
“So.” Harly looked at him. “Now what?”
Now what indeed. He’d come to Whicha breathing fire and suddenly all that was left were smouldering ashes.
“I guess I have my answers,” he replied slowly.
“So now you’re going?”
“No.”
Surprise lit her face. “Why?”
“I’m still on leave. I’m staying a few weeks to help Paul out.” He took a mouthful of the Coke, welcoming the chill that slid down his throat.
“Okay.” Reaching out, she took a chip from the bowl and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully. “Who told you, Alex? And when? It must have been recently or you would have been here sooner.”
“I got a letter five months ago.” On the worse day ever. Not a day he wanted to remember.
“From who?”
“Your grandmother.”
Harly looked blankly at him. “She’s been dead for a couple of years. You had the letter the whole time?”
“No. My brother, Marty, had shifted some of the old furniture in the hallway of our house. The table we used to put mail on had a false backing and when he shifted the table it fell open and the letter fell out. It must have gotten stuck in there somehow and no one noticed for several years. He forwarded it on to me.”
“So he knows?”
“He forwarded it unopened.”
“Oh.” Relieved, she took another chip. “Somehow my Grandmother knew. So who told her?” Harly’s eyes widened. “My mother? I doubt it. Besides, she didn’t know you were the father, so how could Grandma know?”
“Who knows how your Grandma knew? And as for your mother, maybe she had to tell someone. Who can you trust if not your own mother?” At Harly’s slightly cynical expression, he cleared his throat. “Forget I said that. Whatever, your Grandmother found out and sent me a letter that I never got.”
“But you were so young.”
“The letter was dated two years ago.”
“Really?” Frowning, Harly grabbed hold of her glass and angling it, she rolled the bottom edge on the table. “What was the date on the letter?”
“Second January, 2010.”
“She died on the twenty fifth of he
art failure. She’d been in hospital for awhile.” Harly stilled the glass. “A deathbed confession?”
“Was she close to you?”
“Pretty much. As close as my family gets, anyway.”
“Which doesn’t sound very close.”
Harly shrugged.
“So somehow your Grandmother found out and decided to let me know before she died.”
Silence fell between them. The lights overhead mellowed and several couples came into the privacy of the booths. Soft music started out the back and the smell of food cooking drifted through the room.
“It’s getting late.” Leaning down, Harly retrieved her small shoulder bag. “I should go. That is, if we’re finished?”
There really wasn’t anymore to be said. “I guess we are.” Standing, he waited until she got out of the booth. “Wait at the door and I’ll pay our bill.”
“I can pay for mine.” She reached for her bag.
“I invited you, Harly, I’ll pay the bill.” Without waiting for her to reply, he strode across the room to pay the bill before following her through the pub and out to the Jeep, holding both the pub door and Jeep door open for her as he’d always been taught by his parents.
‘Good manners never failed a person’ was his mother’s mantra. Amongst many others.
The drive back to Harly’s house was done in silence, but it was a more comfortable silence. The heater spilled warmth into the car and he caught the scent of her perfume, dim now after the hours at work but still audible.
Turning into her driveway, her made her stay inside the car while he opened the gate and drove through, pulling up outside her house.
She was already out of the car by the time he got around to the other side, and he almost said something before catching himself. His time with Harly was over, there was no point in pushing something that shouldn’t matter.
He held his hand out for her house key.
“Really?” she asked.
He waggled his fingers.
With a sigh she surrendered them, and he walked up the veranda and unlocked the door, pushing it open and turning on the hallway and outside light.
Buffy greeted them enthusiastically and the cats appeared from various parts of the house to meow their own greetings. Or complaints, seeing as it was possibly later than their normal mealtime.
The Lawson Boys: Alex Page 8
