by Nina Blake
That wasn’t true. Claire had said nothing of the sort but Stefan wanted to let his father know he wouldn’t hear a word against her.
James looked confused. Leaning across, he picked up his scotch glass, asked Stefan what he’d like and ordered a beer for him.
‘Let’s go sit by the window,’ he said.
The view of the harbour, the Opera House and the bridge would have been perfect on a postcard. The water and sky were differing shades of blue, the structures rising up spectacularly, the weather wonderfully mild, and yet it all failed to make an impression on Stefan him.
‘Normally, I’d have let you choose the venue,’ his father said. ‘But my knowledge of Sydney is probably better than yours at the moment.’
The waiter deposited an ice cold glass of beer in front of him, and Stefan raised it. ‘This place is just fine.’
His father cleared his throat. ‘I wanted to meet on neutral ground.’
‘Where’s Barbara, my mother?’
Hell, Stefan didn’t even know what to call her, or him for that matter.
’This is just between us men. I thought we could talk about what happened over lunch. The bar food here is good, though nothing fancy I thought you’d prefer to keep it casual.
This was a step in the right direction. His father was actually starting to get to know his tastes, and Stefan did have to eat at some stage today.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s up?’ he asked.
James looked down, his brow furrowing, and then raised his gaze. ‘Come and live with us.’
Stefan shook his head. ‘I’m not going to New York.’
‘Then we’ll stay in Sydney, your mother and I. For a while, for as long as it takes. We’ll drop everything else. I’ve got a real estate agent looking for apartments. We can find something around Elizabeth Bay or Potts Point since that seems to be the area you’re comfortable with.’
‘You can stay if you like,’ Stefan said. ‘What you do is up to you. It’s really none of my business.’
‘You’re my business. You’re my son, and I’m your father.’
But it doesn’t mean anything to me. You mean no more to me than some stranger on the street.
Stefan stopped himself before saying the words. They’d be too hurtful, no matter how truthful.
‘I can see you’re going to take some convincing,’ James said.
‘You’re on the wrong track.’
‘I confess, at first I wasn’t thinking about you, but about what was easier for me and your mother. That’s different now. It’s hard but I’m trying to put myself in your shoes and think about how you feel.’
Stefan let out a laugh. ‘You think it’s hard?’
‘I’m trying, Son. It’s a start. Obviously you need your own space as well so we’re looking for neighbouring apartments.’
‘I’ve already got two apartments—the one I share with Claire and the one I lived in when we separated.’
‘Then perhaps if you moved in there, your mother and I can look for somewhere close.’
That was the last thing he wanted. Stefan didn’t want to live there himself and he didn’t want his parents around the corner. He wanted to stay with Claire and nothing was going to stand in his way, with the possible exception of Claire herself.
‘What about Barbara?’ Stefan asked.
‘I’ll take care of her.’
Then Stefan realised. ‘She doesn’t know you’re here. She doesn’t even know you’re planning on staying in Sydney.’
‘I’m offering you a lifeline, Son. We’re your parents and we love you.’
Yes, he believed that in their own way they did. Claire’s mother had been right.
Stefan knew he should feel something for these people. At least Claire’s family made him feel something on the inside. Wrong or right, that was the reality and he couldn’t argue with his feelings.
‘You had someone else sticking up for you, though I’m sure you don’t know it,’ Stefan said.
James’ brow furrowed. ‘Really, who?’
’Claire’s mother. She insisted that you and Barbara both love me.’
‘Of course we do.’
‘Claire and her mother aren’t such terrible people, you know.’
‘I didn’t say they were.’
As James held his son’s gaze, Stefan stared into his eyes and saw pale eyes too similar to his own, the irises rimmed in a darker blue so there was no mistaking the resemblance. He felt like he was looking into a mirror of the future. The choice was his. Would he choose arrogance or compassion? Which way would he go?
Stefan waited a few moments. ‘You can stay in Sydney if you like. We can get to know each other a bit better, but don’t plan your life around me. That won’t work.’
‘It’ll require some effort. I realise that.’
‘We’re never going to be close.’ Stefan leaned forward. ‘But we can start small. With lunch. Burgers and fries, perhaps.’
‘We’ll pay for the best care.’
‘This isn’t about money.’
James reached across the table, covering Stefan’s hand with his. ‘We love you, Son’
Stefan didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say, but he could feel something moving deep in his gut, something that made him feel uncomfortable.
James loved his son, but Stefan wasn’t sure how a father’s love was supposed to feel.
He’d never had a son. He’d never experienced that love.
‘No, not Sophie,’ Claire said into the phone. ‘Is she okay?’
She’d had just walked back in the door, knowing Stefan would be out having lunch his father.
But she hadn’t been expecting to come home to this. Sophie’s husband Jeff had called, as Sophie was being wheeled into emergency. She’d spent a long time on the phone with their mother and then had given Jeff explicit instructions to call Claire himself after the doctors had told her to get off the phone.
Typical Sophie. Even in the face of a medical emergency, she was calm and orderly. Claire should’ve found that reassuring.
‘Sophie’s not in any immediate danger,’ Jeff said. ‘She’s not the one I’m worried about.’
Dear God, not the baby. Sophie was eight months pregnant. Their little boy—and the scans had confirmed it—would be fully-formed by now, though perhaps not yet at his full size. This tiny person now had arms and legs and all the right other bits. He had a little face and a personality waiting to break out, waiting for Sophie and Jeff to discover. They loved their baby.
‘What did the doctors say?’ Claire asked.
‘At first, they couldn’t find a heartbeat. Once they had, it was irregular and so the baby must be under some kind of distress. They say they’re either going to have to do an emergency caesarean or induce labour, but Sophie’s blood pressure has shot up and they now have to wait for it to settle.’
‘I’m so sorry, Jeff. I understand how hard this must be for you.’
‘I know you do.’
Claire put her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t get the words out. She worried for Jeff and didn’t want Sophie to have to go through this. Claire wanted their baby to be safe, to be able to scream its little life-filled lungs out.
Eventually, she asked, ‘How’s Sophie holding up?’
‘I don’t know if this makes sense but I know Sophie will pull through. She’s strong and determined, but our baby is so small and helpless…’
‘Hopefully, the baby will have some of Sophie’s strength.’
‘Maybe. Look, I have to go now, Claire. I’ll call you as soon as there’s any news.’
‘Give Sophie my love.’
Claire wasn’t sure if Jeff had heard her as he’d hung up the phone. She leaned back against the kitchen cupboards.
‘Things will turn out all right,’ she whispered. ‘Sophie and the baby will pull through. The doctors know what they’re doing. This baby will be born.’
That was what Claire told herself but it wasn
’t what she felt.
She’d been so concerned with finding Stefan again, after all this time, that it had consumed her: all her energy, her time, her emotions, or so she’d thought. Claire wouldn’t have thought there was anything left inside of her to be so taken up by, but there was.
‘This is happening to Sophie,’ she said. ‘Not me.’
It would not happen again. A situation that hadn’t worked out for her and Stefan would for Sophie and Jeff. They were different people and this was a different baby, and it would turn out alright.
Claire had to stay positive. For Sophie. She deserved the best. Unfortunately, Claire knew the type of grief Sophie was going through, had felt the weight in her gut when she’d woken up in the morning, the tears that had pricked her eyes as whenever she let herself remember and feel.
And now, when she thought there was nothing left to lose, another little piece had been ripped from her heart.
Claire pressed down on the accelerator. A break in the traffic meant she was finally driving at the speed limit. The white Hyundai in the next lane had been going painfully slowly and was holding up traffic, but now began speed up until he was ahead of her. The drive probably didn’t want her to overtake.
Maintaining an even speed, Claire coasted past him, but the driver must have woken up again because he put his foot down. Parramatta Road was painful enough without having to deal with recalcitrant drivers but was the only main road between her mother’s house and the airport, so there was no avoiding it.
Claire was grateful it was the middle of the day and not peak hour, a small saving grace.
‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble just for me, darling,’ June said.
‘I offered, remember.’ Claire kept her eyes on the road while she spoke. ‘Anyway, it makes me feel useful.’
‘But coming to get me and then backtracking to the airport will take you all afternoon.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I have the time, and I was at home anyway.’
After a short silence, Claire’s mother said, ‘I wouldn’t leave you if I didn’t have to.’
Turning her head, Claire offered her mother a quick smile. ‘I know.’
’When Sophie called, I was torn. You need me here in Sydney but Sophie needs me, too. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘You did the right thing.’
‘At first Sophie didn’t want us to tell you anything.’
Claire frowned. ‘Why is that?’
‘Sophie thought it might be better to wait until they had the results back,’ June said. ‘She told me to tell you not to worry.’
‘Just like you’re not worried.’
At the corner of her eye, Claire saw her mother shrug. ‘The doctors are doing everything they can.’
‘I wish I could go, too.’
She’d been torn. Under normal circumstances, she’d have dropped everything and hopped on the next plane like her mother, but Claire’s position was complicated. She felt like she was being pulled at both ends.
‘Sophie also insisted you should take care of yourself and your own needs first,’ June said. ‘She didn’t want you to rush to the other side of the country, not under the circumstances.’
‘I’m glad Sophie’s got it all sorted.’
‘She wouldn’t have said that if she hadn’t mean it. You’ve got your own problems.’ After a while, June asked. ‘How’s Stefan? I’m sorry, what with everything that’s been going on, I hadn’t even asked.’
Claire nodded. ‘Fine. He’s more than capable of spending an afternoon by himself.’
But not much longer than that. She still had to be there for Stefan, to answer his questions and help him get set up in his new life. But Claire couldn’t live with him, sleep with him, share her life with him. She absolutely couldn’t share her heart with him. Last night had been too much.
He had to leave and soon. She didn’t have the strength to deal with Stefan tonight. Tomorrow would have to do.
Later, Claire would tell her mother that she and Stefan had broken up. She wasn’t sure they had broken up. They would have to have been together for this to constitute a break-up. Yes, she’d tell her mother about it later, in a few days or maybe when June had returned, but not now. She’d feel too guilty, otherwise. ‘You’re a good person to help Stefan out like you have,’ her mother said. ‘He’s lucky to have you.’
‘Not so lucky to have lost his memory.’
‘I hope he recovers and takes some of the weight of the situation off your shoulders. Whatever happens, he’s got to recognise how much you’ve done for him.’
‘In situations like this, you do what you’ve got to do.’
Claire didn’t want her mother’s praise, not now, not when she was about to kick Stefan out of her apartment. She didn’t deserve it.
Things would’ve been so much easier if she didn’t love Stefan.
But she did.
She was greedy and desperate, and all those things he’d called her before they’d separated. And she would have to be stronger than him, harder and more resilient.
Claire let out a long sigh.
‘Darling, I know this is hard for you,’ her mother said. ‘You can only do so much.’
‘No, it’s just that darned Hyundai’s back again.’ Claire pointed to the car ahead. ‘The driver’s an idiot.’
A small lie but she didn’t want her mother to worry. There was no need for it.
The problem was that Claire did need her mother here She wanted her to stop by unexpectedly, to bring around lemon cakes and choc chip cookies, and to ask Stefan about his health and how he was feeling without being judgmental about their situation.
But Sophie needed her more, no question about it. Besides which, her mother was only as far away as the telephone and Claire was a perfectly capable, mature adult. She’d made her own decisions and did things on her own, just like she’d taken care of Stefan largely on her own.
Claire was no more on her own now than she had been last night or this morning.
So why did she feel so alone?
Chapter Eighteen
Another day, another dilemma.
Last night, Claire had continued to barely speak to him. Stefan had thought it best not to push her. She’d told him about Sophie—his heart went out to her sister—and had then retired to her bedroom, saying she had a headache.
Now here he was, shaking hands with Veronica Ford, the last person he thought he’d go to for help.
‘Take a seat,’ she said, sinking into a leather wing-back chair in the corner of her office. The split in her charcoal skirt rode higher as she sat, crossing one leg slowly over the other.
‘Sure.’ Stefan sat on an office chair opposite the small coffee table.
He’d already been to his old apartment, searching thoroughly for clues. To be honest, he didn’t even know what he was looking for, only that he’d know it when he found it, but had come up empty.
‘I’m trying to find out as much about my old self as I can,’ he said to Veronica. ‘And I figure work was a big part of that. You’re a senior partner here and we worked together. I was wondering if you could tell me what my working life was like when I was here.’
Lowering her eyelids, Veronica tilted her head and gazed at him intently. ‘What would you like to know?’
Stefan beat around the bush, asking a few questions about the cases he’d taken on and the team from the office. But he didn’t care about the work, couldn’t honestly didn’t care about the people he’d worked with. He didn’t know them.
Veronica struck him as the kind of woman who made it her business to find out what was going on. She’d know all the regular office gossip and have detailed information on anything other topics that interested her. Stefan had the feeling he’d probably been one of those subjects, which was why he had come.
‘I still haven’t had a single memory from that time come back to me,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Not a flash or a twinge. Nothing that seemed
even remotely familiar.’
‘You won’t be able to come back to work if you can’t remember the laws involved,’ Veronica said. ‘That’s a shame. You were an excellent lawyer and a great asset to the firm.’
‘Claire has been very patient,’ he added. ‘She has been taking very good care of me.’
‘I’m sure she has.’
‘But I can’t remember anything about our relationship, either. She seems so lovely and I can’t work out why we would ever have separated.’
Veronica leaned back into the chair. ‘That was nothing to do with me.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t implying anything. I’m just trying to make sense of the situation. We were together for years and then somehow things went downhill. I can’t work it out.’
‘Why are you asking me?’
’Because I think you have your finger on the pulse. You know a lot about what’s going on around here and I think you can help me.’
Veronica appeared to consider his statement. ‘You never confided in me. You always played it cool, never giving anything away.’
He looked her in the eye. ‘What happened?’
Shrugging, she said, ‘You’re right. Your marriage didn’t break down overnight. It deteriorated over time—months, maybe even years. That’s usually the way these things go. But from where I was standing, I couldn’t that tell the relationship was faltering. You seemed like a happily married couple, and then one day I found out you’d moved out.’ Veronica’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can guarantee you, if I’d known for a minute that there was trouble in paradise, I’d have stepped in to offer you a hand.’
‘It’s a bit late for that now.’
She uncrossed her legs, stretching her hand out to rest it on one knee. ‘It’s never too late, honey. That’s what I told you when you came into the office and told me Claire was pregnant.’ Pouting, Veronica added, ‘You turned me down then, too.’
Claire. Pregnant?
Had they had a baby together and the child had died? Was that what had happened? God, what a horrible thing to think about, what a tragedy. There was certainly no child now, no sign of one at the apartment, but surely Claire would have told him if there had been one. She couldn’t have forgotten to tell him something that important.
