Fiona McArthur - Baby for the Midwife

He glanced around the room as if seeing memories from the past. ‘She loved to sculpt and paint and you’ve seen all the luminous stars she glued onto the ceilings in the house at Byron. She loved the stars.’

‘Beatrice sounds wonderful.’ But best of all was the affection she could see for his aunt on Max’s face. He’d loved his aunt. There was hope yet.

‘I adored her. She could be incredibly selfish but that appealed to me too—so much more interesting than worthy. She listened to me and told me she loved my company, when my parents couldn’t wait to send me back to school.’

His face became expressionless. ‘She nursed me when I was sick in my late teens and made me see how much I had to live for.’

She didn’t like the sound of that illness. ‘In what way were you sick, Max?’

‘Hodgkin’s disease. I had it for two years and stayed in Byron with her. She drove me to Brisbane for treatment.’

Georgia knew Hodgkin’s could kill and that it struck down adolescents and young adults, more often young men. ‘You were one of the lucky ones, then?’

‘They say I’m cured.’ He nodded but there was the sadness behind his eyes she’d seen before. Suddenly she realised why he’d never seemed to want children—the radiotherapy would make that unlikely. She didn’t comment because he didn’t, though her heart ached for him. But it all began to make sense.

‘How did your aunt die?’

‘Beatrice? In her sleep. Peacefully. After a big dinner party one night five years ago. She loved company and food—the higher in cholesterol the better.’

He glanced down at the béchamel sauce on his steak and smiled wryly. ‘Enough about me. Try to enjoy your meal without my sob story to put you off.’

Conversation turned desultory and time passed.

With dessert Max had questions of his own. She could tell he was happy to not talk about himself any more. ‘So, did you have a perfect childhood?’

She shrugged, reluctant to lose the mood of warm companionship. ‘My parents were very much in love, and instilled in me that love is worth waiting for. But they died when I was young and an only child.’

‘Who brought you up?’

‘Harry. Tayla’s mother was very like Tayla. She wasn’t a warm woman and Tayla resented my presence in her family.

‘Harry tried to make up for it because he is a kind and decent man, but that only made Tayla worse. Harry’s always been able to see Tayla’s faults and he protected me to some extent. I tried not to be too much of a problem.

‘Tayla’s mother died when I was eighteen and Harry and Tayla are my only relatives, except for my darling Elsa.’

His hand came across the table and squeezed hers for a moment where she held the glass. ‘And your darling husband, Max.’

‘That’s true.’ She smiled at him and then glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall. ‘That was a wonderful dinner. Thank you, Max.’

Max looked at the clock, too. ‘It’s still early. Let’s take a stroll before we go up. There’s a night walk to the glow-worm forest that only takes about half an hour each way. You could check on Elsa first and then join me.’

‘Glow-worms?’

‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice dropped low and portentous, like a 1950s horror film. ‘The larvae of the fungus gnat.’

She burst out laughing. ‘Imagine having that pearl of information at your fingertips.’

‘You have no idea what information I have.’ Max steepled his hands. ‘Hurry and you will learn more.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She saluted and turned for the stairs.

She chuckled all the way up to the room. If it was fine with Morgan’s daughter, seeking glow-worms sounded like a lovely way to end the evening.

Max watched her walk away. The curve of her hips, the column of her neck under her swinging hair. So close and yet so far.

He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He’d just have to make sure he didn’t touch her because there was no doubt they had ignition problems he couldn’t be sure he could control.

She was back within minutes, pulling her woollen wrap around her shoulders. ‘Elsa hasn’t stirred and Trish is halfway through a movie she wants to see the end. So we are free for an hour. Show me the worms.’

‘I love it when you talk dirty to me,’ he said with a deadpan face.

‘I’m a very earthy woman.’ she quipped back, and they smiled at each other.

It was blissful to feel so relaxed and carefree. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way and it was all due to a fabulous dinner, a place no one could find them, and Max and his care.

She followed him out past the tennis courts and the light of the moon reflected off the beaten dirt path in patches to illuminate their way.

Lush foliage closed in on the path but the moon made the leaves silvery and unthreatening. Somewhere she could hear water as it tinkled over rocks, and nocturnal animals scurried away from the intruders who had interrupted their night’s business.

‘So where are we going?’ Georgia stumbled over a tree root that had bulged into the path and Max caught her wrist to steady her. His fingers sent warm trails up her arm and she felt cocooned in an aura of protection she didn’t want to push away.

‘Glow-Worm Gully is along this path called the Wishing Tree Track.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You’ll just have to hang onto me.’

‘How fortunate you know where you’re going.’ She glanced up at him.

‘Isn’t it? This was my favourite treat when Beatrice stayed here, although she complained all the way down and all the way back. I can remember much trivia from those times so watch out or I may inflict it on you.’

Georgia stumbled again. ‘Don’t normal people carry a torch?’

‘Sorry.’ Max slowed his pace. ‘Yes, and I have one, but if I shine it on a glow-worm, it won’t turn its light back on for fifteen minutes.’

‘So we stumble along in the pitch black.’

He sighed loudly. ‘It is not pitch black. It’s called becoming accustomed to the dark.’

‘Sheesh. It’s like school again.’ She could feel his smile even though she couldn’t see it, which made the smile widen on her own face. ‘So tell me about glow-worms. What is a fungus gnat?’

‘A fungus gnat is a bit like a mosquito—hence the gnat part—and the larvae it lays are encased in bioluminescent cases that attract insects onto the sticky threads hanging below.’

‘And if I was to ask the definition of bioluminescent?’

‘It means luminous from chemical byproducts produced by the larvae. The blue-green glow from the larvae’s taillight attracts the larvae’s food.’

‘So excretion? Poo light?’

‘You are such a downer.’

‘Realism, sunny boy. I’m a realist.’

‘If you want realism, that’s not all the glow-worms attract. They attract tourists—about six million dollars’ worth for tour operators a year.’

The conversation stopped because they’d rounded a bend in the path and ahead and to the side, in the cracks and crevices under a deep overhang of rock, tiny tendrils of blue-green luminescence shone in hundreds of strands.

The more she looked, the more she saw. Georgia was silenced. Her hand tightened on Max’s and she sighed with delight.

‘Wow. Now, that’s one spectacular show.’

She could tell Max was pleased with himself and her response.

‘You should appreciate the world of the glow-worm,’ he said. ‘Every time a midge or similar insect runs into a hanging line it sticks and is hauled up by the worm, using its mouth, and stored for later.’

‘So much for my fantasy of pretty glowing worms swinging in a friendly fashion in the dark.’

She frowned. ‘In that case, they have a remarkable similarity to my ex-husband.’