Alison Roberts - Scandal In Sydney

‘Really?’ she said, sounding startled. ‘Why?’

Why?

He hadn’t intended to say it. It had been a dumb thing to say.

So why had he said it?

Because she was too close.

Because she was too beautiful?

He’d hurt her today. He didn’t intend to hurt her again.

He didn’t intend to be hurt himself.

He forced himself to recall the day Hannah had died. She’d been unwell at breakfast but she’d thought it was the take-away meal she’d eaten the night before. She’d eaten too much of it, she’d snapped, because he hadn’t arrived home in time to share.

‘Ring me if you need me,’ he’d said, knowing she was angry but not knowing what to do about it. He’d kissed her goodbye, intending to come home at lunchtime and check.

And then there’d been cojoined twins, one dead, one close to death, surgery impossible to delay. Fourteen hours in Theatre. At some stage he’d asked a nurse to ring and let Hannah know what was happening.

‘The call went to your answering-machine,’ the nurse had told him. ‘I left a message.’

She must have gone out, he’d thought, relieved, and then all his thoughts had gone back to saving one little life.

While his wife and son had died.

So why had he said it? It’s all the family I ever want . He watched Lily stroke Merrylegs’s soft nose, he watched Lily fall under the spell of the tiny colt and he knew that he’d been warning himself.

‘I don’t do relationships,’ he growled, and Lily cast him a look that held amusement.

‘Good, then. Except pretend relationships. They’re my favourite. So what will happen to Merrylegs? Will he be sold?’

‘No.’

‘So this farm …’ she said cautiously. ‘It makes a lot of money?’

He smiled at that, tension defusing. ‘Not so much as you’d notice. We make a bit on the beef cattle.’

‘I’ve seen your beef cattle,’ she said. ‘World’s fattest beasts. I’m betting when they droop with age you move them into cattle nursing homes where they’re pushed round in bath chairs until they die. And I’ve counted six horses I reckon are twenty years old or more. Plus you’ve bred Zelda with Checkers when anyone can see …’

‘That’s practical,’ he told her. ‘Checkers is getting too old to carry me and I’m used to a checkered blaze. It’s like a flag on the antenna of your car how I pick my horse out in a crowd.’

She chuckled. The little colt nudged her chest and she hugged him. Zelda nudged her so she gave Zelda a hug for good measure.

‘What a softie,’ she murmured. ‘You know your reputation around the hospital is cool and grumpy. And solitary.’

‘That’s the way I like it.’

‘You could never be solitary with these guys.’

The sun was setting low in the west. Lily was stroking Zelda while the colt shoved her for his share of attention. The last rays of the sun were glinting on Lily’s hair the soft evening breeze was making it ripple like silken waves.

Zelda was usually wary of strangers. She wasn’t wary of Lily. She wanted to get closer. Touch.

Same with Luke. Maybe he could …

He raised a hand … and let it fall. No.

Talk about something else. Something to break the moment.

He had it. A reality check.

‘I made some phone calls for you this morning,’ he said. ‘I went through university with a solicitor from Adelaide. He’s made enquiries on your behalf.’

She straightened and stared. ‘You … what?’

‘Firstly the money. What your mother did was illegal. The bank wasn’t authorised to transfer your money.’

‘I didn’t ask you—’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But it seemed … you’re in such trouble.’

‘That’s my business.’

‘But you can reclaim your money.’

‘No,’ she said, suddenly angry. ‘I can’t. Of course I know Mum’s action was illegal but the bank won’t refund money without wanting it back from somewhere. They’ll have Mum arrested for fraud. Do you think I want that?’

‘If she’s stolen—’

‘She’s my mum!’

‘She’s an adult. She’s stolen—’

‘Luke, my mum can’t help herself,’ she said, anger giving way to weariness. ‘She was indulged by doting parents and then by my dad. He adored her. All men adore my mother,’ she conceded. ‘But apart from my father, she never sticks to them. Dad committed suicide when I was twelve, lumbered with a mountain of her debt. He made me promise to look after her and I will. I know she can’t help it. It’s just the way she is.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So, no, I won’t claim, and I won’t have her arrested. I’ll be more careful in future. In a while I’ll go home and sort out the damage. But not … not yet.’

‘You could go home now,’ he said gently.

‘I don’t want to go home.’ She said it with a vehemence that was startling. ‘Mum’s vicar will leave,’ she said, weary again. ‘But not until my mother gets tired of him, which won’t be long. Meanwhile I’m staying as far away as possible.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah.’ She gave him a shame-faced smile. ‘I’m sorry, too. You were trying to do good.’

‘Gerald says he can get you damages.’

‘Damages?’

‘That’s the second thing,’ he said. ‘According to Gerald, you were publicly slapped and dismissed without cause. Assault and public humiliation, with witnesses. The hospital board should pay damages.’

She thought about that. Her weariness and anger seemed to fade.

‘The hospital board,’ she said slowly, ‘consists of five judgmental toads. I’m judged a bad lot by association. They only gave me the job because my qualifications beat every other applicant fourfold.’ She considered a bit longer. ‘Damages, eh?’

‘It’d be a statement,’ he said. ‘A line in the sand.’

She considered a bit more. ‘She did have cause,’ she said. ‘Vicar’s wife discovering vicar with Mum.’

‘Was that cause to hit you?’

‘No.’ She grinned, bouncing back. ‘Does it cost to sue?’

‘With the evidence as clear as it is, Gerald said one letter should do it, sent to the board with a promise to copy it to the press if damages aren’t forthcoming. He reckons they’ll be falling over themselves to limit fallout.’

‘Ooh …’

‘Do I have your permission to go ahead?’

She beamed and it was as if the sun had come out. ‘Yes.’

‘And the bank …’

‘No.’ Her humour faded. ‘Mum’s not going to jail on my account.’

‘How long do promises last?’ he said softly. ‘A promise made by a twelve-year-old …’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s ridiculous, but I loved my dad. I do this for him. Thank you for what you’ve done already but I won’t take it further. My mum, my problem.’

He glanced at Zelda and at Merrylegs. Then he looked at Lily, at her expression of acceptance of a load that seemed almost too much to bear. He’d yelled at her, he thought, and he was sorry. ‘Are you sure I can’t organise you a quiet horse tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Not Glenfiddich?’

‘No.’

‘Because?’

‘I will not watch you take risks.’

‘So don’t watch.’

‘Lily …’

‘Okay, sorry,’ she said, and held up her hands. ‘You’re trying to protect me. Thank you very much, but I don’t need it.’

‘You could enjoy a quieter ride.’

‘I guess I could,’ she said, but then managed a rueful smile. ‘I know, it doesn’t make sense, even to me, but I’d rather not. Not having been on Glenfiddich.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s just … Luke, I don’t want to be protected. For now I just want to be me.’

She seemed to wilt a bit after that. The gastro had knocked her, he thought, or maybe it was simply life that had knocked her. A crazy mother and a promise to the father she’d adored … She’d faced it alone since she was twelve.