by H. Y. Hanna
“And the thing with the ring... yes, I was showing Craig a diamond engagement ring. It’s actually my mother’s—it’s a family heirloom.” Matt smiled at her. “But it wasn’t for my proposal—it was for his. Craig is planning to ask Sara to marry him and he likes the idea of an antique-style diamond ring. I mentioned my mother’s ring to him last week and he was really keen to see it, so I brought it in to show him yesterday. Megan probably overheard us but completely misinterpreted everything.” He shook his head. “A good reason why you shouldn’t listen to gossip.”
Pippa’s temper flared. “I wouldn’t have to if you told me about Justine in the first place! I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have just told me she was coming from the beginning. The fact that you didn’t makes it look like you had something to hide.”
Matt’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I wasn’t hiding anything. I told you—I just thought it made things more complicated. I figured that the less I made a big deal of it, the less of a big deal it would become. I even talked it over with Craig and he agreed with me. He said it was best to keep things simple because women tend to jump to the wrong conclusions and get worked up over nothing.”
Pippa felt her blood pressure rise even further. “That is such a typically stupid male attitude! And this was not ‘nothing’!”
“Besides, you were already sounding so down, I didn’t feel like it was a good time to mention that my ex-girlfriend was coming for a visit,” Matt added quickly. He looked slightly disgruntled. “I thought I was doing a nice thing.”
“Well, it was a stupid thing,” Pippa snapped. Suddenly the last twenty-four hours—the terror and panic over Sparky, the lack of sleep, the despair over Matt’s betrayal—all came together like a volcano erupting. Pippa felt her blood boil. “And you know what, Matt? I’m tired of being jerked around.”
Matt’s eyebrows came together. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you! Blowing hot and cold—and jerking me around. First those drinks at the Laughing Kookaburra—and then avoiding me for days. Then the trip to the Hunter Valley and kissing me and... and... making me feel like you cared about me—and then being all weird and distant on the phone and not telling me about Justine.”
Matt frowned. “I wasn’t weird and distant—”
“Yes, you were!” Pippa insisted. “How do I know now that you won’t suddenly go all cold again on me again next week? I feel like I can’t trust where I am with you.” She took a deep breath. “I’d been agonising over this decision all week—but it’s not such a dilemma anymore. I was going to tell you about it this weekend—if we had managed to meet up—but I might as well tell you now. I’m thinking of moving to Sydney.”
Matt stared at her. “Sydney?”
“Yes.” Pippa raised her chin defiantly. “I’ve run out of job options here. But I would have lots of opportunities in Sydney. It seems stupid of me not to go. I was delaying the decision because I really didn’t want to leave Summer Beach and because of... you. I thought we had something special—something worth staying for. But I’m not sure now.” She took a step back from him. “I think this whole thing between us was a mistake. Maybe I was feeling a bit lonely and emotional—and you were on the rebound. I don’t know. But I think it’s best if we just forget it ever happened.”
Pushing past him, Pippa ran down the rest of the front steps and across the street, back to her house. She could feel Matt’s eyes on her the whole way but she forced herself not to turn her head, not to look back. A part of her was hurting even more than yesterday when she had thought that Matt had betrayed her, but she ignored it. Short pain for longer gain, she told herself fiercely as she shut the door behind her. The best thing for her now was to leave Summer Beach and forget all about Dr Matt Pearson.
CHAPTER 18
“Do you want to put this in the back?” Charlie held up a box of framed photos.
Pippa paused beside the open car door, clutching a bundle of towels to her chest. “No, I think that’ll be fine in the boot.” She leaned in to place the towels in the backseat, then stood up again and turned to Charlie “I’m really, really grateful to you for helping me with this move.”
“Oh, don’t be silly—of course I want to help.” Charlie waved a hand. “I’m just sorry that you’re not staying in Summer Beach.” She smiled. “It’s been so nice being able to spend time together again.”
“Me too.” Pippa felt a stab of sadness. In the few short weeks she had been back, she had fallen in love with this seaside town all over again and, in a way, it broke her heart to leave. Then she thought of Matt and her lips tightened. It also broke her heart to stay.
Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Charlie said hastily, “Anyway, it’ll give me an excuse to come down to Sydney more often and we can do lots of things together there. I mean, the shopping is way better there!”
Pippa was about to answer when they were interrupted by an indignant “Mew!” from the cat carrier on the front seat of the car. Sparky stood up on her hind legs and tried to push her muzzle through the bars of the carrier, meowing again plaintively. She had protested loudly when she had been scooped up and put into the carrier this morning but Pippa was taking no chances with the naughty kitten again. After finally bringing Sparky home from the vet hospital yesterday, she was doing everything to make sure that the little tabby didn’t get into trouble again. The last thing she needed was for Sparky to end up trapped in another place and delay her even more!
Pippa had wanted to leave Summer Beach straight away after last weekend—to get away from all the painful memories and just start afresh in a new place. Even knowing that Matt was working across the street had been a torment—but she had been forced to wait until Sparky was recovered fully and could be released from the hospital. So she had postponed her departure until this weekend. But now she just wanted to be gone.
Charlie loaded her car with the last cases while Pippa went through the cottage and did a quick check. Thankfully, she had been on a rolling monthly lease so she had only paid up until the end of this month. It would mean that she was paying a couple of extra weeks in rent while this house sat empty, but Pippa decided it was worth it. She did a last sweep of the living room, then stepped out and locked the front door behind her. Charlie was already in the driver’s seat and Pippa was just about to get into the car when her mobile rang. She looked at the screen and frowned. She didn’t recognise the number.
“Hello?”
“Hello! Is that Pippa Martin?”
“Yes.”
“This is Bev at Summer Beach Resort—you came up to see me a couple of weeks ago. I was calling to ask—are you still looking for a job?”
“Well... um, yes,” said Pippa.
“Because I’ve just come across something that might be perfect for you. I was talking to an enterprising young woman yesterday who has a start-up company. It’s sort of like a tour company—except that it’s focusing on the Chinese market. And what it’s offering is a sort of package holiday that’s a complete ‘Australian immersion experience’.”
“Immersion experience?” said Pippa, puzzled.
“Yes, there are lots of wealthy families in China who are keen to send their kids to Australia for further education—or even come themselves for holiday and business—but it’s all a bit strange and intimidating for them, especially if English isn’t their first language. They’d like someone to hold their hand, show them the way. So these tour packages provide them with accommodation and organised activities and sightseeing—but in addition to that, it’s also offering to provide them with a ‘cultural guide’ to help them understand and assimilate into Australian culture—and help improve their English too.”
Pippa felt her interest piqued. “Sounds like a great idea. And a clever way to tap into a niche market.”
“Exactly!” Bev’s voice was enthusiastic. “I think she’s on to a winner here. She contacted the resort to see about establis
hing a partnership, with us providing the accommodation and maybe even some water activities to be included in the packages—such as learning to surf—but when she mentioned the ‘cultural guides’, I immediately thought of you. She’s recruiting for the positions now. The pay is very lucrative. I thought, with your English-teaching background, you’d be the perfect candidate. I told her about you and showed her your CV and she was very impressed—she’d like you to contact her.”
“Oh. Wow—thank you for thinking of me.” Pippa was surprised and touched.
“No worries—I felt really bad that I had nothing to offer you that day. Anyway, here are the details... you can get in touch with her yourself and find out more. Got a pen?”
“Hang on a second...” Pippa bent into the car and pulled a pen and pad out of her handbag. “Yes, thanks, go on.”
Bev rattled off an email, website address, and phone number, then, with a cheerful goodbye, hung up. Pippa stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Here was a chance for her to stay in Summer Beach. But should she take it? She had been so set on leaving and moving to Sydney...
“Who was that?” asked Charlie, leaning over from the driver’s seat to peer out at Pippa through the open car doorway.
“A possible job opportunity...” Pippa trailed off as she looked up suddenly and saw who was approaching the car.
It was Matt.
She froze. Her breath started to come faster and her pulse went haywire. She hadn’t seen him since their horrible argument last weekend on the animal hospital’s front steps. A part of her had secretly longed all week for him to turn up on her doorstep, begging her not to go to Sydney, but as the days had passed and he hadn’t come, her heart had shrivelled up inside. She thought her fears had been confirmed after all—he couldn’t have cared that much if he wasn’t even making much effort to stop her from leaving.
So what was he doing here now?
Pippa took a deep breath and steeled herself as Matt came up to her. She realised that he was holding something in his hands and, as he got closer, she saw that it was a bottle of wine.
“I was worried I might be too late,” he said, breathing slightly fast, as if he had been running. “I thought you might have left already.”
“Would you have cared?” Pippa whispered.
“Of course I would have cared!” he said, stepping even closer. “I would have gone straight after you—to ask you to come back.”
“Then... why didn’t you come earlier in the week?” Pippa hated how anguished her voice sounded but she needed to know.
“I would have—but I had this idea.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Okay, it was probably a bit silly and you might think it’s stupid but...” He looked down a bit sheepishly. “I thought it might help you realise how much you mean to me. And it took a bit of time for it to be completed. I’ve been up at the winery for a large part of the week, trying to finalise this in time.”
Pippa frowned in confusion.
Matt raised the bottle of wine in his hands. “This is the new line of wines from my winery—named in your honour.”
Pippa stared at him in surprise, then her eyes dropped to the label on the wine. There was the familiar “PEARSON ESTATE” sign and then, beneath that, in bold, curly script, were the words “Pippa Pink Moscato”, followed by the year, and an illustration of a little kitten sitting next to the front wheel of a car.
“It’s a range of sweet dessert wines, including a Semillon in the French Sauternes style, a fortified Shiraz and this Moscato. I remembered that you liked the Moscato best that day during the wine tasting. I hope you’ll enjoy tasting the Pippa range.” Matt smiled and held the bottle out to her.
Pippa reached out and took it, turning the bottle over in her hands. The clear, pale pink liquid inside caught the sunlight and sparkled against the glass. She was speechless.
Matt was looking at her uncertainly. “Do... do you like it? If you think it’s stupid—”
“I love it.” Pippa beamed at him. “It’s not stupid at all. It’s wonderfully romantic. I... thank you.”
He looked at her for another moment, then reached out and pulled her into his arms. His lips came down on hers and Pippa sighed, all the unhappiness of the past week evaporating in an instant. She clung to Matt tightly, kissing him back with a passion that matched his, and when they finally broke apart, she could see that he was as shaken as she was.
“Uh... you guys are together?”
Pippa turned to see Charlie looking out through the open car doorway, gaping at them. She laughed and nodded as Matt pulled her close to him again and planted a tender kiss on her temple.
“Since when?” Charlie demanded. “Are you telling me that this has been going on under my nose the whole time?”
Pippa laughed again and Matt said, chuckling, “It’s been going on under my nose too and I didn’t even have the sense to realise what was happening to me.”
He turned back to Pippa and his brown eyes became serious. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Justine. I didn’t realise how much it would hurt you.” He gave a rueful grin. “That’s the last time I’m asking another bloke for romantic advice. I guess we just don’t really understand what’s important to women sometimes.” He paused, then went on more seriously. “I felt that I owed it to Justine to see her. And I guess I also wanted to test my own feelings—everything had happened so fast between us, I wasn’t sure if what I felt was real or maybe the result of being on the rebound.”
“That’s what I was scared of the most too,” confessed Pippa. “I kept worrying that I was just a rebound fling for you.”
“You’re definitely not that,” said Matt fervently. “I haven’t felt anything like this for anyone else. I love you, Pippa.”
Pippa felt happiness surge up and fill her. She reached up and brushed her lips against his. “I love you too,” she whispered.
“And I understand if you need to move to Sydney for work reasons,” said Matt. “We’ll find a way to make it work. I can come down every weekend or—”
Pippa put a finger up to his lips, smiling and shaking her head. “I’m not moving to Sydney anymore.”
“You’re not?” Matt raised his eyebrows.
“You’re not?” echoed Charlie from inside the car.
Pippa laughed. “No, I think I’ve found a great job which will let me stay in Summer Beach.”
Quickly, she told them both about the new start-up company that Bev had mentioned. Charlie was delighted and hopped out of the car to run around and give Pippa a hug. Then she surveyed the car with dismay.
“Oh no, don’t tell me—we’ve just spent half the morning packing up your stuff and loading the car for nothing?”
“I’ll help unpack it,” said Matt, reaching in and lifting the cat carrier out of the front seat. “And I think this little one will be very pleased to be remaining in Summer Beach.”
Sparky opened her mouth and let out a loud “Mew!”
As usual, the cat always got the last word.
THE END
Want to read Charlie’s story?
Here’s the beginning of:
Summer Beach Vets:
Playing the Fool (Book 4)
CHAPTER 1
Charlie stood outside the closed door, her heart beating uncomfortably. She hated this part of being a vet—it was wonderful when you could go in with happy news of a successful surgery or easy treatment of a beloved pet’s illness, but it was awful when she had to do what she was doing now. She took a deep breath, smoothed her face into a neutral expression, and opened the door to the consult room.
The middle-aged couple looked up instantly. The husband had his arm around the wife’s shoulders, whilst she had her hands clutched to her chest. Both their eyes were wide with desperate hope.
“Dr Appleby, how is she?”
Charlie’s face felt like a mask. “Sugar is very sick,” she said gently. “She’d already been having seizures for over twenty minutes when you brough
t her in—”
“Yes, and she’s been vomiting and really lethargic,” said the wife quickly.
Charlie nodded. “I’ve given her diazepam and some glucose by IV, and we’ve managed to stop the seizures, but I’m worried. Her blood pressure is low and her blood tests show that her blood urea nitrogen and creatinine are very high, while the urine specific gravity is low. What this means,” she explained to the bewildered-looking couple, “is that Sugar is suffering from kidney failure. It looks like she might have ingested some poison. Does she have access to the countryside unsupervised?”
The husband sighed. “Yes. We live on a few acres and Sugar is always allowed to just run around on our property whenever she likes. She never usually goes far, though. Do you think she might have swallowed something?”
“It’s very possible,” said Charlie. “It would fit with her symptoms—the blood test results plus the seizures. So you live in a rural area?”
“Yes,” said the husband. “And you’re right—I know the local farmers have been putting down poison and pesticides in the area... but I never thought that Sugar would stray far enough to pick up anything.”
Charlie took a deep breath. “We can try to treat it, but it’s unlikely that an antidote will be very effective, given these advanced signs that she’s showing.” She hesitated. “This form of toxicity usually has a very guarded prognosis.”
The wife inhaled sharply. “What are you saying? Is Sugar going to die?”
Charlie bit the inside of her mouth. She wished there was another way to say this. “I’m sorry. In this case, euthanasia might be the kindest thing.”
“Oh!” The wife covered her mouth with one hand and gave a dry sob.
The husband’s face had gone grey, but he nodded stoically. “Whatever is the best for Sugar. We just don’t want her to suffer. Can... can we see her?”
Charlie nodded and opened the door. “Yes, although you might still find her quite dazed. This way...”
She led them to the hospital ward at the back of the building and up to a crate in which a Golden Retriever was lying on her side. The wife gave another muffled sob and crouched down next to the dog, reaching out to stroke the soft fur through the bars of the crate. Her husband crouched down beside her, struggling to contain his own emotions as he watched his wife cry.
