Water under the Bridge

by Lily Malone

  ‘Everything will be closed inside, don’t worry,’ Jake said, eyes creasing with humour.

  Ella held Jake’s gaze. She remembered thinking his eyes were like the blue of a pool at midnight. They were lighter now, more like the ocean under an afternoon sky.

  ‘Thank you for looking out for Sam. I really appreciate it,’ Ella said. She’d been fiddling with her fingers without realising it, and she stopped that now by interlocking her hands. ‘I don’t know what got into him to try that stunt at the bowling green. I can’t sweep that under the table but at least maybe when I get him home he’ll be in a better frame of mind. He’s been so angry these last few months.’

  ‘He’s a good kid.’ Jake put his hand on Ella’s arm above her elbow, turning her towards the house.

  His fingers were firm, work-roughened, and his grip gentle, and the touch lingered long enough for Ella to miss it when the path narrowed to the point where Jake held back to let her go first and his touch was gone.

  * * *

  Four pages.

  That’s all it took for Henry Graham to offer Jake $429,000 for Nanna Irma’s house.

  ‘It’s not enough. Sorry.’ He gave the pages back, enjoying the way Ella’s hand opened and closed around the paper. She had elegant fingers, long fingernails and a shade of pale pink polish that made him wonder about things he shouldn’t. Like, were the nipples he could see bumping out that sweet shirt the same colour as her nails? Or darker? Less pink, more plum?

  She didn’t take the papers from him which meant their hands, through the common link of the contract, stayed poised above the table like an odd-shaped bridge.

  Jake gave a small push. Ella smiled and pushed the pages back. The contract eventually crinkled at a weak spot nearest Jake’s thumb.

  ‘Maybe you’d care to counteroffer?’ Ella said. ‘It’s a cash offer, Jake. The only condition is due diligence. Henry wants to check the zoning with the council. That’s got to be worth something. No finance to worry about. He doesn’t have to sell anything to get the deal done. This guy is ready to go.’

  Oh, Henry Graham was ready to go alright. Henry was always ready to go when he wanted something. The real question was, why was a developer like Henry interested in Nanna’s house?

  Well, given Jake wasn’t selling it anyway, what Henry wanted the house for didn’t matter.

  Jake released the paperwork and the contract bridge flopped. ‘My counteroffer is at the asking price.’

  Ella’s brow crinkled. She put the document flat on the table in front of her and folded her arms across it. Then she unfolded her arms and sat back. Then forward again, one hand on the pages.

  Jake didn’t enjoy her discomfort, but he did enjoy watching Ella. Did it make sense that watching her was like watching water? She was always moving, like rapids rough on a stream. Even when she sat quiet he had the sense of currents swirling deep below.

  ‘Perhaps you should consult with your brothers. See what they think,’ she said.

  ‘I’m Nanna’s Executor.’

  ‘But wouldn’t they like to know what’s going on?’ She leaned forward. ‘Would you like me to email them—’

  ‘I’ll speak with them,’ Jake cut her off. The last thing he needed was Ella in Abe’s ear. Or Abe in Ella’s. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Okay.’ She sat back.

  ‘Can we talk about something that isn’t my nanna’s house?’ Jake asked.

  ‘It’s not something else about Sam, is it? He hasn’t tried skidding across the golf course?’

  Jake chuckled. ‘Not that I know about.’

  Ella opened her palm at him, giving him the floor, but she was clearly confused at his reaction, or non-reaction, to the offer and probably wondering why the hell she was still sitting there.

  Jake wanted her sitting there. He liked it. He liked her.

  ‘Tell me why you didn’t get back into swimming after Sam was born.’

  Her mouth made a little sound of shock and she shook her head, like she couldn’t believe he’d asked the question. If she knew him better, she’d know he wasn’t the type to die wondering. If he had a question, he’d ask it.

  Gooseflesh puckered the skin of her arms, yet the afternoon wasn’t cold. Her pretty pale pink fingers got twitchy again and she wouldn’t meet his eyes, staring away at the dam where the sheep trekked in for their afternoon drink. Sunset wasn’t far away.

  ‘I don’t mean to embarrass you. I’m curious. I’m interested,’ he said.

  Interested was an understatement. His over-enthusiastic, extra-determined, once-famous-swimmer-turned-real estate agent intrigued him. He wished she’d trust him enough to let him in.

  It took a long time, and a lot of finger twitching, but then she began. ‘After I had Sam, it was all about him. I was out of training for the best part of a year. All these other girls were swimming the most amazing times. That was when the supersuits came in, remember them? Records were getting smashed. I’d fallen too far behind.’

  ‘You didn’t try to get back to it? Didn’t Erik want you to swim?’

  Ella’s chin lifted. ‘Erik would never stop me swimming.’

  ‘Then why? If swimming meant so much to you? Everything I’ve read about you said swimming was the only thing you ever wanted to do.’

  ‘It was all I was good at, more like it,’ Ella said, and her gaze slipped away. ‘I should check on Sam.’

  ‘Sam is fine,’ Jake said.

  ‘It’s really not your business,’ she said, pressing her lips together.

  ‘The articles I read online said you haven’t been back in the pool since you found out you were pregnant.’

  ‘You’ve been stalking me?’

  ‘Not stalking. I told you, I’m interested.’

  She let out a harrumph that said clear as day, rubbish, and folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘You interest me,’ Jake repeated. It was the truth, and he let the weight of it line the words, until the light in her eyes told him she might finally believe it. It took a while. In fact, it surprised Jake how long it took. Ella was gorgeous. Surely she was used to the attention?

  He waited for her to say something. I like you too would have been nice, but Ella didn’t say anything, and Jake got that light bulb flash in his hormone-laden male brain as it hit him that Ella wasn’t being coy. She didn’t know how to turn him down nicely.

  And he was an idiot for not putting it all together.

  She’s just spent the weekend with her ex-husband. Maybe he’s not so ex. Maybe they’re trying to patch things up.

  ‘Ah, I get it, Ella. Sorry. Forget I said anything, okay? My mistake.’ He’d been leaning into her space without really being aware of it. Now, he made himself sit back.

  ‘So I don’t interest you now?’ Ella unfolded her arms from her chest and leaned her elbows on the table. Those twitchy fingers came back, making the late afternoon light do interesting things to the pale pink nail polish that reminded him of … things he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

  Jake shifted in his seat.

  He tried a different tack. ‘I mean, come on. You’re the most interesting thing to hit Chalk Hill since one of those round-the-world hot air balloon record attempts failed and the balloon came down in the Simpsons’ paddock. Chalk Hill got on the news and Betty Simpson said it was her fifteen minutes of fame.’

  ‘So it’s a joke then. You’re just joking with me about being … interested … in me?’ Her eyes met his, a million shades of sunset reflected in those liquid brown pools, and Jake near drowned just looking at her.

  He put his hand over her fingers to stop them twitching, to stop him seeing colours he shouldn’t, and Jake put his cards on the table. ‘Ella, are you getting back with your husband? Is that why he was visiting you this weekend?’

  CHAPTER

  13

  If Ella had taken time to think about it, Jake’s question would have made sense. But she hadn’t had time to think, and her thoughts were so very far fr
om Erik. Her thoughts were all swimming pools at midnight, and why wouldn’t Jake make a counteroffer? Where was Sam? She hoped he wasn’t wrecking the house. And swimming pools at midnight.

  So Jake’s question broadsided her. Am I getting back with Erik?

  She snatched back her hand, put both palms to the edge of the table and gripped hard, levering herself away. ‘No. No I’m not. Why would you think that?’

  ‘He was here Friday night. I’m guessing he spent the weekend …’ Jake let the comment hang. ‘He’s Sam’s dad.’

  That last line was what she needed. It got her heart drumming a new beat because that was the big lie, wasn’t it? Erik wasn’t Sam’s dad at all.

  One day, maybe it would be easy for her to say that. He’s not Sam’s dad. But the perfectly natural follow-up questions made everything more difficult. So, who is Sam’s father then?

  She could lie again. He died. He left us. He works away. We don’t see him … but she’d only be digging herself a bigger hole. Sam’s father hadn’t died, but many times Ella wished he had.

  Jake’s hand lay on the table, fingers spread, knuckles gently flexed. So much easier to look at his hand than meet his eyes.

  ‘Lots of marriages have flat spots, Ella. People patch things up all the time. I mean, I’m not saying I know what went wrong for you and Erik, but there’s a lot of love there. I saw how he looked at you.’

  A laugh that didn’t sound like hers floated from Ella’s lips. ‘Okay. You know how you asked me two minutes ago if we could talk about something else?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’m not getting back with Erik. Let’s talk about something else.’

  ‘How long have you guys been split up?’

  ‘Jake,’ her voice shook with it. She should get Sam and go. She was in so far over her head.

  He put his hands up. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

  And even though she didn’t want to talk about Erik or swimming, and Jake wouldn’t talk about the Honeychurch house, Ella didn’t want to leave it like that.

  Lines had been drawn and crossed.

  She drew in a ragged breath and let it out, and at the same time she dug courage from her toes, lifted her eyes to meet Jake’s and tried to think of something to say that could make things right. Or close to right.

  ‘I bet no one ever asks Bob Begg these questions.’

  Jake snorted, slapping the table, but not hard. ‘I bet Bob Begg never swam a hundred metres in his life.’

  Ella found a smile and got an answering one from Jake.

  She touched the offer papers. ‘I think I should go now. I need to speak with Henry Graham about this.’

  They stood up at the same time and Jake said he’d go inside and call Sam for her.

  Ella made her first steps to follow him. After five paces she remembered her manila file, so she had to come back. She took two more paces before she remembered her handbag and had to retrieve that too.

  ‘Don’t you dare laugh,’ she said to Jake, who stood just outside the sliding patio doors that led into the house, most definitely chuckling as he watched her wear a track through his pavers.

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said. ‘Sam’s bike won’t fit in your car, Ella. What would you like me to do with it?’

  ‘Would it be too much trouble if you brought it into town tomorrow? You could drop it at my place, or my work, or at Irma’s house, or your work. I can get Sam to pick it up from there. Well, from anywhere you drop it.’

  ‘You’re being terribly polite,’ he said.

  ‘So are you.’

  ‘I’ll put it over your fence. What’s your address?’

  ‘25 Lavender Lane. Thank you. That’s very kind.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Then he stuck his head in the sliding glass doors and hollered loud as you like and definitely not polite, ‘Sam! Get your butt out here. Your mum’s ready to go.’

  * * *

  ‘You know we have to talk, don’t you, Sammy?’ Ella said, as Sam climbed into the passenger seat beside her and Ella started the car.

  ‘Yeah. Jake told you about the bike and the rock throwing.’

  Dear God. What rock throwing? Jake never mentioned rock throwing. ‘I’d like you to tell me in your own words, okay?’

  She reversed out of her spot near Jake’s Landcruiser and started down the long driveway back to the gravel road. Dusk was fully on them, the horizon glowing pale yellow as the sky turned from blue to black.

  Sam shifted in his seat and, when he spoke, he talked at a point in his lap. ‘Well … the rocks were a mistake. I didn’t hurt anybody. I was just throwing them against the wall near the Post Office and Jake caught me. He said a kid could fall off his bike on them, or a lady might be pushing a pram down the street or something and could get hurt. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.’

  ‘When was this, Sammy?’

  ‘The day we found Perkins III, I mean Percy. When you said we couldn’t keep him.’

  ‘We couldn’t keep him because he’s not our bird, Sam, and we’d found the owner.’

  He met her eyes. ‘I know. I didn’t think.’

  ‘Oh, Sam. I’m not sure you think at all anymore. Please don’t go throwing rocks on the main street.’ She’d never sell a house in Chalk Hill. Ever. Never ever. ‘Did anyone see you?’

  ‘Jake did. He made me clean the rocks up and put them in the bin.’

  And he never said anything. Ella wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He should have told her. She was Sam’s mother. She should know these things.

  ‘What about the bike today? You wouldn’t really have wrecked the bowling green, would you?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. Stared out the window.

  ‘Sam?’ Ella said, tone firm.

  Sam’s head came around. ‘I might of if Jake hadn’t showed up.’

  ‘Oh, mate.’ Ella slowed the car. She’d got faster with nerves and worry as she drove, and the road hadn’t got any less slippery in the hour or two she’d spent at Jake’s.

  ‘What were you thinking? What on earth made you think it was a good idea to ride your bike on the bowling green?’

  ‘I didn’t think about it, Mum. I was upset and I just, I just—’

  ‘It’s making bad choices.’

  ‘I got upset, Mum. I went overboard. I got so mad.’

  ‘Jake said you were on the ramp. He watched you put your foot down and race for it and he says you were going to jump the bike on the green. It’s not good enough, Sammy.’

  ‘I said I was sorry.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. You haven’t said sorry once.’

  ‘I did say sorry. I told Jake I was sorry.’

  ‘Okay.’ She forced her hands to relax on the wheel. ‘Is there anything else going on that’s upsetting you? Is this about moving to Chalk Hill, or about Erik? Is it about my job?’

  ‘I liked it when you used to do those advertisements with Erik, and manage the swim team and that was your job.’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘You weren’t selling houses then.’

  ‘We had sponsorships, Sam. People paid us to promote their stuff.’

  ‘Well, why can’t you do that again? We still did stuff together then ’cos you had time.’

  ‘Well, part of it is Erik and I aren’t so famous now. There are new swimmers who are more famous, and not just swimmers, other sportspeople. The companies who pay us, well, they have other people they want to pay to represent them now.’

  In other words, she had a shelf life. She was past her use-by date, and that was okay. She didn’t miss those years of being half of the Erik and Ella show at all. But it didn’t pay the bills; she didn’t have any other skills except swimming or being around a swim team, and if she was serious about not leaning on Erik anymore, that meant financially as well as emotionally.

  ‘That’s why I need this new job, Sam. I’ve always loved houses and property, and it’s a chance to work in an industry I love.’

  How did you tell a te
n-year-old that your old life wasn’t enough anymore? How did you explain that you needed to find who you were when you were out of the water?

  And how did you explain that you got tired with yourself; tired and bored for being a hypocrite, paid to pose in family-friendly commercials with a husband you loved like a brother, and a little boy whose dad wasn’t the wonderful man in the photographs?

  How could you live a lie like that, day in day out, and not hate yourself a little bit more every hour?

  ‘You don’t like houses as much as you loved swimming,’ Sam said, staring out the window again. ‘And you quit that.’

  ‘I quit swimming because you were born.’ It was out before she could stop it.

  Sam didn’t say anything. He picked up his bike helmet from his lap and turned it, playing with the fastener and straps, and Ella wished she could take the words back.

  ‘I don’t mean that in a bad way, Sammy. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I love you, okay? No matter what.’

  ‘Sure, Mum. Trampoline.’

  Oh God. He didn’t believe her. It was there in the hunch of his shoulders, and the way his ‘trampoline’ had no bounce.

  Ahead, the bitumen road gleamed. Ella reached it, the tyres gripped and the Mazda stopped shaking. It felt like home. Strange how the boy beside her felt so far away.

  ‘You can’t go wrecking things when you’re upset, Sam.’

  ‘I know. Jake said the same thing.’

  ‘He did, hey? Well, maybe you should listen to him.’

  Sam’s eyes flicked to hers again. ‘I liked learning to ride the quad bike, even if it meant I had to pick up sticks. Even that was okay. He said when it’s not fire season, the fire crew come out to his farm and they have a big burn pile. It’s like a training exercise, Jake said. He said maybe we could come out when they do it and watch.’

  ‘Did he? That’s nice of him.’

  ‘Do you know what Jake said he used to do when he got angry?’ Sam asked.

  Hope flickered deep inside her and she smiled at her son’s eager face. ‘What did he do?’