He didn’t complain when she recommended they take the elevator to the top of the giant stone lion’s head, the Merlion.
From the platform Ailee gazed out over the lush greenery and away to the water and across the bay before recalling her self-appointed tour-guide status and pointing out landmarks. They discussed the British influence on Singapore and the fabulous growth of the new city. Talking to Fergus was so easy, so comfortable, no matter what the topic.
Fergus, with laughter in his eyes, bought her a snowball with a miniature skyway as a memento. Because it was inexpensive, she let him. The flowers back in her hotel room probably cost him an arm and a leg and she would not have accepted another pricey gift.
On the way back they stopped at the Skyroom, which lay between the two ends of the aerial road over the lush greenery. They drank champagne at the edge of the open-air restaurant overlooking the unbroken view so high above the tropical gardens below. All the while Fergus had a soft smile on his face as he watched her.
Ailee felt as if she were flying again and not all of it was to do with their height from the ground. Flying? Something about flying...
She clapped her hand to her head. ‘That’s why you hesitated. Taken you to so many high places and ignored your fear of heights.’
Chapter 5
Fergus
* * *
‘I was amused.’ Fergus shook his head and relaxed back into the lounge, thinking how beautiful she was. ‘I think you’ve cured me. That’s why I bought you the snowball. As a thank-you.’
Ailee made his heart ache, Fergus thought, as she leaned against the gold cushions in her Singapore-red sundress with her long legs bent at the knee and casually crossed at the ankle.
He struggled to keep the conversation going as his attraction spiked and desire rose. What were they discussing? That’s right — his aversion to heights. ‘It’s the actual plane, take-off, not heights, I don’t like. I’m afraid the whole motorised flight concept makes me shudder. The cable car isn’t my favourite vehicle either but—’ his glance brushed over her and he smiled ‘—strangely, I’m much calmer about it now.’
She leant towards him, her face concerned, her shampoo scent teasing him on the breeze, making him want to sink his nose into her hair and breathe. She looked at him as if he was the most fascinating person in the world. The cynical side of Fergus dreaded her finding out he was just a shell of a man.
But he didn’t feel a shell when he was with her. He felt buoyed by her energy, intoxicated by her laugh, alive for the first time in two years - and too afraid to ask why. Already he was questioning his internal debate for following up their acquaintance in Sydney.
The waiter arrived with their seafood lunch and the conversation moved away from his flight phobia as they discussed their plans for the rest of the day.
Their driver suggested the Botanical Gardens and through them the path to the orchid garden and the promise of tranquillity attracted them.
As they walked a leafy trail to a waterfall, Fergus held Ailee’s hand in his and even managed to comment sensibly on native birds and several dragon lizards, despite the fact that all he could think of was the feel of her skin against his. They discussed environmental issues and wildlife protection, and after a wonderful ninety minutes of meandering among the serene gardens and trees they sat and ate tiny sandwiches and icecream before heading back to the where their driver waited. Fergus felt more at peace than he had for a long time.
When they were back in the limo, Ailee sighed back in the rear seat and turned to Fergus. ‘Thank you. I loved the gardens and orchid houses. It was amazing, thank you. I don’t see flowers like that often.’
‘I enjoyed it, too.’ Very much. ‘Are you a gardener?’
‘I’m more a beach person,’ she supplied. ‘You said you come from Clovelly. Do you walk on the beach?’
No. He didn’t. Never. ‘Not often. I gather you do?’
‘Whenever I can.’ Her face lit as she found a new enthusiasm to wax about and he shook his head. He wished he felt these things, these passions and joys, but these last two years he’d felt cold and stifled. Old and tired.
Except, it seemed, when he was with Ailee. She did not need his wet blanket on her joy for life but for the moment he would drink her in and live for today.
By the time they arrived back in the city they were ready for afternoon tea at the magnificent white-columned Raffles, beneath the rows of waving ceiling fans.
There’d been no more talk of her not joining him for the treat.
They started in the famous bar and Ailee dragged him by the hand to a table between the magnificent staircase and the window overlooking the terrace. Tropical birds chattered outside the frame and tourists laughed and cracked nuts as they sipped their umbrella’d drinks. The place vibrated with laughter and he felt out of step.
A bowl of peanuts, still in their shells, sat in the middle of their table and Fergus glanced down as his feet crunched over the discarded shells that covered the floor. ‘Odd housekeeping.’
He raised his eyebrows at Ailee and she laughed.
‘It’s all part of the atmosphere,’ she said.
A pretty waitress carried her order book over to their table. ‘Gin slings?’ she asked, branding them as tourists.
‘Yes, please.’ Ailee answered before Fergus could say anything, and she turned to him and smiled. Yes, he would have drunk dishwater if she’d asked at that moment.
‘You have to drink a gin sling when you come here, it’s part of the tradition.’
‘So many traditions to agree to.’ He cracked a nut and offered her the bean-shaped centre. ‘And eat peanuts?’
‘Absolutely.’ She took the nut and lifted the shells from his palm to discard them wickedly on the floor, as others were doing.
‘Decadent,’ he said lazily, and savoured the way she slid the morsels into her mouth. She wasn’t looking at him, distracted by the noise and sights, and her lips were full and lush and the tip of her pink tongue slipped out to lick the taste. He closed his eyes and struggled to divert his thoughts.
‘So, you’ve been here before?’ Inane, but at least he’d managed to say something.
Ailee looked back and he enjoyed the pleasure on her face. ‘Once. With my parents when my dad was alive. I loved it. The bar used to be much longer but I still adore the fans that are all joined together across the ceiling.’
His question came out sooner than he’d intended. ‘So, what are your plans when you get home?’
She looked away from him and disappointment clouded his euphoria. Her face changed, even in profile, closing from the openness he’d savoured, the smile slipping away, her eyes cast down. That wasn’t a good sign.
‘I’m tied up for a few months.’ When she said that her voice seemed lower and her expression turned evasive under his intense scrutiny. ‘A family thing, so I’m off work until that’s finalised,’ she said.
Fergus tried to regain some of the closeness he could feel slipping away. Did she miss them? Had bad news? He searched for a new connection. The taste of the peanuts tasted more like chalk on his tongue. He looked around and the room had dimmed. The gloss of the furnishings now gloomy and the chatter of the tourists gone quiet or was that the sudden mood between them.
What happened then?
His need to find rapport made him dive into speech. ‘Families are important, even when things aren’t so smooth on the home front. I’m not a great parent, I’m afraid. There’s just myself and my daughter.’
Ailee’s face whipped around, eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing in surprise, but the moment was interrupted before she could speak as the waitress arrived with their drinks.
Lucky. He needed to stop before he changed all the rules of the Singapore stopover. One that was not supposed to go anywhere beyond a day out with a woman he liked.
Friendship. New experience. This woman. He lifted his glass to her, the red coloured cocktail like Ailee in its vibrancy, the pineapple
slice and the maraschino cherry ridiculous. Time to drink the medicine, and his first sip was cautious. Sweet, yet sour. Thankfully the drink wasn’t as bad as he’d feared it would be.
Ailee watched him and he tried to keep his face noncommittal. ‘You thought you’d hate it, didn’t you?’ she accused him and some of the amusement was back in her voice. He would have drunk that dishwater to make her happy again.
Fergus took another sip. ‘I’m not a gin fan but this is very pleasant. What’s in it?’
‘Gin. Cherry Brandy. Pineapple Juice.’ She ticked them off her fingers. ‘Lime Juice. Cointreau. Dom Benedictine. Grenadine and a dash of Angostura Bitters.’
He smiled. ‘And I can see garnished with a slice of pineapple and a cherry.’ Tilted his head at her. ‘How did you remember that?’
She touched her temple. ‘I have a very good memory.’ He laughed as she went on. ‘You can only have one because they are very expensive and I’m paying.’ Ailee reached out and stole the bill before he could look.
That made him smile. ‘Who said you were paying?’
‘I did.’ Ailee raised her chin. ‘You paid for the car. If I pay now I don’t have to feel bad about you paying for lunch and afternoon tea.’
Not something he was used to but he could see it mattered to her. ‘It’s a deal. Shake on it.’ He held out his hand and she hesitated before she put her hand in his. Their eyes met and he remembered the sensation as soon as they touched. He had the feeling she did too, and her warmth shot into him like a surge from a charger. Buzzing his lowered batteries. Heating and stimulating and addictive. He didn’t want to let go.
They sat there for a moment and then Ailee eased her fingers out of his hold and picked up her glass. His empty fist returned to his thigh but he could still feel her warmth on his fingers.
She turned to check the clock on the wall and began to swallow her cocktail as if it wasn’t famous and apparently very expensive. Studied him for a moment and there was a hint of reserve when she said, ‘I think we’d better go for afternoon tea. They have a strict timetable.’
The distance was back.
Fergus finished his own drink and stood to pull out her chair. As she rose, she put down Singapore dollars on the bill and smiled at the waitress as the girl approached. ‘Thank you, that was lovely and wonderful service.’
‘You are most welcome.’ The girl smiled and Fergus stored that away. Ailee’s personal touch, the way she connected with people, made them smile, as more reasons why Ailee touched him.
When they were seated in the more formal room for afternoon tea, Ailee’s natural exuberance seemed to have returned. ‘I’ve always wanted to do this. Thank you.’
He relaxed back into the chair. ‘Thank you for your company. I’ve enjoyed the day with you.’
Ailee grinned. ‘Wait until you taste the cakes.’
Fergus looked across where another couple were choosing from the cart. He wrinkled his nose.
Her eyes met his. ‘You didn’t think you’d like the gin sling.’
‘My daughter is the cake lover, not me.’ Another unexpected share. Stop it.
‘I wanted to ask.’ She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands to watch him. ‘Tell me about your daughter. How old is she?’
Fergus gazed out the window and in his mind’s eye he saw his daughter, not the branches of the tree that brushed the side of the building. In his mind Simone glowered at him. ‘Simone is twelve and very clever.’ He looked up at her. ‘She has an excellent memory too.’
Ailee beautiful mouth curved.
‘Since her mother died, we haven’t had much common ground. I think I’ve failed her.’ He hadn’t meant to say the last sentence but that’s what happened when you started to let people in. Conversation became a landslide.
Ailee’s eyes softened but she looked away. Well, he’d blown that by being honest. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t try to connect with Simone. ‘I love my daughter but I work long hours. Get called away often. I’ve tried to be there for her but it hasn’t worked that well. My wife died just before Simone turned ten. It’s been hard to spend the time with my daughter that she needs.’
Her gaze returned to his and he realized he’d been mistaken. She wasn’t distancing herself, just giving him time to organise his thoughts.
‘So, since then you’ve brought your daughter up on your own?’ she asked.
‘Both sets of grandparents died before she was born. Martha and Douglas, my housekeeper and her husband, have been amazing. She talks to them.’ Fergus knew how lucky he’d been. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without them.’
She stirred her tea. Could see she was taking care choosing her words. ‘Why do you feel that she doesn’t talk to you as much as to your staff?’ Ailee chewed her lip and he appreciated she was wary of crossing boundaries.
‘I don’t think of them as staff. I’m sure Simone doesn’t either. Martha and Douglas are more like family.’
A few women he knew weren’t worried about boundaries and he’d never talked to anyone about Simone before. Maybe he should have. A woman’s perspective might be the help he needed to understand.
‘I hate that lost closeness with my daughter.’ And despaired he’d ever regain the rapport they’d once had. ‘Her mother was there one day and gone the next. My wife, Stella, died after a routine operation. A procedure of course I’d told Simone would be fine. I’m afraid the shock of her mother’s death destroyed Simone’s ability to trust me or my profession. After all, I’d said, “Mummy will be fine.”’
He shook his head at the waste. ‘We all assumed wrongly. The operation was minor but the consequences a disaster. She had a reaction to the anaesthetic and then an aneurysm.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Ailee put the teacup back in the saucer with infinite care before wiping her fingers carefully, deliberately with the napkin. He liked the way she took her time before rushing into gushes of sympathy.
‘It would be terrible for a young girl to lose her mother at that age. It must be doubly hard for you.’
He didn’t want her pity, just a suggestion of what might help him connect with his daughter. Or perhaps he should never have started this conversation. Too deep, too soon. ‘Simone is in high school. I was doing such a poor job of keeping her happy I’ve enrolled her at a boarding school through the week until we sort it out.’
Her eyebrows went up. ‘Does she like that?’ Ailee sounded doubtful that any child would be impressed with that idea.
He thought about his answer. ‘It’s early days, but Simone is self-sufficient and likes company.’
‘Or is good at pretending?’ Ailee suggested.
He sighed. ‘She can’t be worse off than she was with me. We fought about everything.’
Ailee’s lack of comment made him think she disapproved of Simone in boarding school, but she had no idea how hard it had been. The last time Simone had run from the room crying he’d vowed he’d have to find a way to make her happier.
Fergus tried to explain. ‘I thought boarding school with the company of other girls might help.’
Her look said she had reservations. ‘It’s none of my business. It must work better for you both if you work long hours. As long as she doesn’t miss your housekeeper and her husband, too?’
Relieved, Fergus nodded and ignored the way Ailee’s comment had pricked his confidence about Simone’s schooling.
He’d save those thoughts for later review.
They both stirred their tea. Fergus broke the silence. ‘Tell me about your childhood.’ He’d shared his most personal thoughts and feelings, and it’s only fair to ask something of her. Plus, he wanted to know.
She smiled. ‘I’m boring.’
‘Feel free to bore me.’ He didn’t think he would ever tire of listening to her voice.
Ailee shrugged and her gaze drifted around the room. ‘My parents had the best love affair. Made me a romantic.’ She blushed and then hurried on. ‘My
dad was a fun guy and we did lots of mad things. He had his pilot’s licence and an old rag and tube aeroplane that was so noisy you had to wear earmuffs to protect your ears.’
‘Where did he keep an aeroplane in the city?’
Ailee smiled at the memories. ‘At an aerodrome near Camden, but it’s a lot busier now than it was when I was a child. We’d drive down on Sundays and have a picnic and fly a few circuits and he’d let me steer through the clouds.’
He could imagine a little girl like Ailee bouncing up and down on a seat as they’d driven to the outlying airport to have fun with her dad. He wished he had memories like that with Simone. Maybe he needed to make some happen — just not with a plane. ‘It sounds great, except for the flying part.’
Ailee looked up at the humour in his voice and she grinned at him. ‘But I like aeroplanes and you don’t.’
‘Did you do anything on the ground that was fun?’
She nodded, her eyes sparkling. Fergus savoured the way her face lit up at her memories. Not boring in the least.‘Dad had a passion for boats for a while and we tried sailing.’
‘Now, I can enjoy a day sailing.’
Ailee shook her head. ‘We had to sell the boat because if the sea turned choppy and the boat rocked, we all got seasick and there was no one left to steer while we fell around the deck, throwing up over the side.’
‘Well, thanks for the graphic detail,’ Fergus teased.
‘No problem.’ She sat back and her eyes crinkled, and he realised how fortunate he was to be here at this minute with this woman opposite him.
Her eyes grew distant with memories and he understood she was done sharing. Her movement pulled the red material of her dress against her breasts and his mouth dried.
Fergus shifted under the sudden tsunami of desire that hit him, much bigger than the waves Ailee had just mentioned. Tore his eyes away from her and stared at the ceiling. ‘This is a great room.’
Unfortunately, the colonial surroundings didn’t prove as distracting as Fergus had hoped, though he didn’t think any location would drown out what he suddenly wanted to do.
The Doctor's Gift Page 3
