by Jane Carter
She picked at the stitching in the leather trim under her knees. ‘I thought it was because Mal had just got engaged to Rosie and they finally had the son they’d always wanted.’
‘Your father has never given me the impression he was hankering for a son. I think that’s your problem.’
She whispered, ‘Take me home, Patrick.’
‘I can’t. Your mother really wants you to be here tomorrow when Tom has the operation.’
‘Well, I can’t face them at the moment. I can’t go back to that motel room I’m sharing with Rosie.’
‘We’ll find you another. I will be with you tomorrow and then I’ll take you home.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise,’ he answered softly. He put the car into gear and reversed out of the parking space and turned into the main street. He pulled up at the first motel they came to that had a vacancy sign shining out front.
‘Okay?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was worried about Tom, but mostly I was worried about you. Marnie and the kids seemed to be getting on fine.’ He got out of the car.
Diana felt strangely light-headed. Was it her anger or exhaustion? It was a bit hard to tell. Patrick came back with two keycards and handed one of them to her.
They had to go up a flight of stairs and her inaction had Patrick taking the keycard back from her to insert into the lock. They stood and looked at each other outside the door.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, come in.’ She took his hand and pulled him after her.
It was your standard motel room. A narrow wooden bench stretched along one side. Standard prints on the walls of what appeared to be country scenes—a bridge over a creek and a hut on a mountainside—and a very big bed in the middle of the room. For some reason the bed seemed to double in size and levitate before her eyes. Patrick pushed her stiff figure down on to it. He found the bar fridge and pulled out a miniature whiskey bottle. ‘Want to share?’
Diana nodded. It didn’t matter to her one way or another, just that it was alcohol. ‘It just makes me so mad they didn’t have enough respect for me to talk to me like an adult. Nobody asked me what I wanted. And then to take twenty years to tell me? I simply don’t believe it.’
‘Maybe they were afraid of the reception they would get. They’d made the decision with their eyes open. I think they were taking the responsibility that came with that. Maybe they thought everything would sort itself out.’ Patrick handed her the tumbler with the amber-coloured liquid. ‘No ice, sorry.’
Diana drank, enjoying the strangely warm, smooth taste of it. She didn’t normally drink whiskey.
‘At least if we’d talked about it, it could have been my decision. Now I’ll never know … I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I’m behaving badly.’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘Well, yes. But it’s a normal reaction. I don’t think you realise how much your parents are in awe of you.’
‘What?’ she turned, round-eyed.
‘They adore you. They’re so proud of what you’ve achieved, and they live for news of you.’
Diana was speechless. ‘You’re crazy.’ Then she added, suspiciously, ‘How do you know?’
Patrick sighed. ‘I’ve been here for the last four years. I was shown the photos you sent. I passed your pictures in the hall each time I walked in the door. They never stopped talking about you. And then you came back … and I met the real-life Diana. I saw what they were talking about.’ He came to sit on the bed next to her, took the drink from her hand and kissed her.
All she could think was how right it felt. That it was good. Like coming home should feel.
When Patrick lifted his head the next time she was lying beneath him on the bed and managed rather breathlessly, ‘You’re not serious.’
Patrick laughed and stretched out beside her, his head on his hand, tracing light crazy patterns on her arm. ‘I like surprising you.’
‘Ha. Very funny.’ She hit him on the arm and then she kissed him. A heart-stopping kiss, with her hands moulding and enquiring. Learning his body as a blind man would. Not a stitch of clothing removed, the only bare skin she was touching was at his neck, his cheek bones and the skin on his forearms. She knew it was driving him crazy.
Diana held his hands at bay but she let him roll her over so that he was on top again. She stretched back and looked up at him. ‘What’s next in the surprise stakes?’
‘I take it all back. No more surprises. I want you, Diana. There’s nothing surprising about that.’
She pushed him away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry about what?’ Patrick took her hands in his. His beautiful hands.
Oh God. ‘I can’t do this,’ she said brokenly.
‘Listen, go to sleep, stop worrying. We’ll take tomorrow as it comes, one thing at a time. All you need to know is I’m here. Okay?’
He said goodnight, leaving her lying on the bed, and walked out of the room. Reaching for her phone, she texted Rosie that she’d see her in the morning.
* * *
When Diana woke, her head was rolling with images of her mother and father telling her to leave home, intertwined with Patrick pulling her along the road and lifting her onto a big black horse. The children were standing in a garden behind locked iron gates, their little arms outstretched, entreating, begging … She woke in a sweat, registering the knock on the door. Groggy, she grabbed her jacket, as she had no night clothes with her, and put her head warily round the door.
‘Breakfast. Good morning.’ The blonde-headed girl in a tracksuit on the other side of the door was far too cheerful for this time in the morning.
Diana gave a mumbled thanks and took the tray, with what looked like a cooked breakfast under the anodised cover.
Half an hour later, and considerably more together, Diana answered the knock on her door, sliding the chain-latch free. Patrick, a half smile on his face, took her in his arms and kissed her.
‘I definitely like surprising you.’
‘You promised, no more surprises. Anyway that wasn’t a surprise, after last night.’
But that wasn’t true. She was surprised, every time he put his arms round her. By the way her heart raced and her legs folded beneath her. By the way she unconsciously reached for him and wound her arms around his neck and lifted her head for his lips. This morning he was all lemony aftershave and toothpaste. Lucky him, hers was still in her bag with Rosie.
She took a step back. ‘Thank you for breakfast. That was thoughtful, I forgot all about ordering last night.’
‘I hadn’t had anything to eat, I was starving.’
‘Oh no! Patrick, I’m so sorry.’
‘Well, I had a feeling you may not have had much to eat either. Sleep well?’
‘I … not really, I had these weird dreams. Actually, all last night seems a bit of a blur.’
‘That’s a pity. I’ll have to start all over again.’ Patrick smiled and reached for her.
‘No, you don’t.’ But she was laughing as she fended him off. ‘Did you really mean what you said last night?’
‘Which bit? That I’m here for you?’
She shook her head.
‘That your parents are in awe of you, or that I am?’
‘My parents.’ She didn’t want to go to that other space.
‘The first time your father talked to me about you, we were facing flames twenty feet high. I was on the back of your fire truck wrestling with the hose, and the pump was being particularly difficult to start. Your dad said you were the only person he’d ever known who could get the wretched thing going, first pull.’
Her knees gave way and she fell backwards on to the bed, Patrick on top of her.
‘How he wished Diana was still here, she’d been his best mate for fires. He said how much he missed you at times like that.’ Patrick’s hand wandered down her side. ‘He’d always remember you, clambering on to the back of the truck, the first time he took you. You’d have been
twelve or something. Do you want more?’ He nuzzled her neck.
‘No, I was fifteen before he let me go with him,’ Diana whispered, closing her eyes. ‘I’ve always thought I was never good enough, not the son they wanted. I don’t think I want to know this.’
‘Don’t you want to know how excited your mother was to get photos from you? She’d race out to me and say “Look …”’ Patrick kissed her neck and started a slow journey downwards.
‘Stop it. Stop it. No, I don’t want to know. Mum was always so critical of anything I did.’ Diana struggled to sit up and Patrick sighed and stretched out to lie beside her.
‘Your mother adores you, but then,’ He fiddled with the button on her shirt. ‘Not as much as I adore you.’
‘Patrick, will you hold me for a minute? Just hold me.’
‘Now that’s the sort of question I like, only I could hold you for a lot longer than that. It will be the letting you go that’s going to be the problem.’
‘Very funny. Ooh.’
He took her in his arms and they lay on the bed as he pulled her close. It was so comforting. She felt truly cared for. Then Diana realised Patrick was using his fingers to make those crazy patterns on her arms and pressing little kisses into her neck. She lifted her mouth to his lips. They were firm and warm. She closed her eyes.
Who would have believed this meeting of lips, touching of tongues, could be so amazing. His hands wandered about just above her waist, pulling her body to him till it felt like a piece of her soft clay, slowly getting closer to the underside of her breast so that it positively ached for his hands. She paid him back in kind, re-learning his body, waiting for his groan or intake of breath before moving her fingers away.
If only everything would go away and she and Patrick could … Dream over, Diana.
‘You are a heck of a kisser.’ She groaned. ‘Hey, it’s time to go.’ Reluctantly she tried to disentangle herself. ‘Patrick, I’ve got to ring the kids.’ She pulled his face down so she was looking him squarely in the eyes. ‘Why me? Why now?’
‘I’ve asked myself the same thing. No idea. Maybe you are a fantasy come to life. I do know I don’t want you to go back to London.’
‘I’ve got to go back.’
‘I know.’ He sighed and sat up.
‘What if the real me doesn’t stack up to the fantasy? I can be very difficult to deal with in real life.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Ha.’ She sat up and punched him lightly on the arm, and gave him a piercing look from under those straight black eyebrows. ‘I don’t really know where we’re going with this.’
Patrick grinned. ‘I told you. Let’s take one step at a time.’
Then let’s hope they’re baby steps, not giant ones, Diana thought. She was so not ready for this.
‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
When they got to the hospital Phillipa was there in the waiting room with Rosie.
At least Diana thought it was Phillipa. She was the right age, but this girl had black hair and black leggings with a loose top and two rings in each ear.
Diana looked again. ‘Phillipa?’
‘Aunty Di!’ The girl jumped up to give her a hug. ‘Poor Tommo, poor Stella. Isn’t it awful?’
Rosie was in tears. ‘They’re about to take him in, Mum’s still with him. It’s going to be hours before we know. By the way, thanks for letting us know where you’d got to last night. Mum was nearly going demented.’
‘Sorry.’ Diana closed her eyes briefly, she wasn’t going to bite. The only way to deal with yesterday was to forget it. Forget it all. Or at least shelve it. It must be horrible for Rosie as well. She turned to Phillipa. ‘Well, what’s been happening to you? Tell me all. Start at ten years ago.’
‘It’s going to be a long story.’ Phillipa laughed. ‘How about I get you both some coffees? How do you like it, Aunty Di?’
Aunty Di? Diana looked at her niece. ‘Perhaps we could start with you calling me Diana.’
‘Sure, and I’m Philly.’
They both laughed and Philly took the twenty dollar note her mother held out and danced out of the room.
‘Black, Philly, black,’ Diana called after her and then she turned to Rosie. ‘I can’t believe it. She’s all grown up.’
‘I know. And I don’t know when it happened either.’
‘She’s lovely, Rosie.’
‘Yep.’
Diana moved over to the hard blue vinyl sofa Rosie was sitting on. ‘Do you want a hug, little sister?’
‘Yep.’
Diana put her arm round Rosie. ‘We can do this, you know. We’ve done it before.’
Rosie nodded but didn’t say anything.
Time vanished and she was crawling into Rosie’s bed that awful morning, cuddling up to her, hearing the car with her parents and Cody roaring down the drive.
The silence stretched out.
There was an innocence stamped on that memory. That was before it all happened, before Cody died. She’d so wanted to go back to that time before. Play it out again, only with a different ending. She’d tried so hard, so many times.
She looked up. Phillipa was back, juggling a cardboard tray of cups and a packet of donuts. At the same moment Rosie’s phone rang.
Diana sprang up to help. ‘Here, I’ll take those. Thanks.
‘Hi Mal. No we haven’t heard anything. Yes, Diana’s back. I’ll ring, I promise.’
‘Here you are, Rosie.’ Diana handed her a cup and then fished into the bag for a donut. ‘Very good thinking, Philly.’ She smiled at her niece.
‘I’ve got a phone call to make. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ Philly disappeared out the door.
‘What are you going to do, Di? When are you going back to the UK?’ Rosie asked.
Diana slid further down her end of the sofa. ‘I don’t know. If we can help, I’ll stay, but Mum may not want us cluttering the place up when Dad comes home.’ She frowned.
‘I’m sure Philly and I can manage. Charlie’s parents will be pleased to see you, won’t they?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Diana looked out the window. Sebastian would be pleased to see her, anyway. He’d be rubbing his hands in glee. Of course the Suttons wanted them back. And Polly, of course. Patrick had thrown her into a tailspin. He was very kind and thoughtful. He’d said they could stay at Lost Valley, she and the kids.
It was easy to look at the obvious road to take. Put the kids first; she couldn’t ignore her career and the money, either. But what did she want? Australia came with its own set of problems. Surely she and Rosie could work things out.
She’d told Rosie on the way down that death did happen to people you loved. Cody, Charlie. So if something happened, the worst happened, Mum would be okay. She’d have Rosie and Mal and Philly.
But not to see her dad again … Diana couldn’t bear the thought. Even though she wished they’d handled things differently all those years ago.
‘When are the kids due back at school?’ Rosie asked.
‘They’ve got another few weeks holidays. This is their big break, you know, their summer holidays. Missing a bit of school for them has been worth it. I was so worried about them, Milo in particular.’
‘Oh.’ Rosie picked up a magazine, idly flicking through the pages. ‘You’re so lucky, living in London.’
‘You must come over and see us.’
‘And how exactly do you think that’s going to happen?’
‘You’re both working.’ Diana really didn’t understand her sister. Everything was so negative with her.
‘Unfortunately we’re still supporting Philly, for another year and a half. Kids don’t seem to cost less as they get older,’ Rosie said stiffly.
‘I hate hospitals,’ said Diana. ‘I’m going out for a walk.’ And she picked up her jacket and left.
She picked up her pace and walked down the brightly lit street behind the hospital. At least her sister belonged somewhere. Belonged to
someone. Diana felt rootless and unwanted. She and her kids were like tumbleweeds stuck up against a fence for a while and then rolling on. They were probably the reason her Dad was lying there in the hospital. She kicked at a small stone and watched it bounce against the wall. She’d left England because she’d felt so alone. Alone is different from lonely. You couldn’t be lonely with three kids at your heels. Alone was what she couldn’t cope with. She’d needed her family. She’d needed to come home. And where had that got her? Here in a place where her sister was furious, quite rightly, her mother was acting psycho and her father had a heart attack probably because of her. Great. She pulled her coat closely around her and stepped out into the wind.
Home was different to what she’d remembered. Her parents had changed. Or had they? Maybe she was the one who had changed.
Then there was Patrick. There was no future for them. She had to go back. She wasn’t that naive child this time, twenty years on. She could look after her own, and herself, for that matter. When they heard what was happening, as soon as she could manage it, they were going back to England.
Diana squared her shoulders. Feeling more in control than she had in ages, she made her way back.
Rosie wasn’t in the waiting room. Diana tiptoed to the entrance of the intensive care ward. Her dad was back from theatre. Rosie, Philly and Stella were sitting beside Tom’s bed. His eyes were open. Her mother smoothed a strand of hair off his forehead. There was a powerful lot of love in that simple gesture. Diana stood there, not sure she could go in. The tubes, and the awful beeping monitor attached to her father were fairly daunting. Her mother looked up and saw her. She smiled and waved her in, finger to her lips.
‘Shh, just for a moment. Look who’s here.’ Stella turned back to Tom. ‘The surgeon’s just been in and the diagnosis is good. We were lucky, very lucky—three arteries were nearly completely blocked. And the amazing thing is they did it without a general anaesthetic. We can be home in a couple of days.’
‘Dad, I’m so glad. That’s wonderful,’ Diana whispered, wiping the smart sting to her eyes with the back of her hand.
