Daniel's Bride (16 page)

“I thought it might be nice.” Unfazed she said, “I’ve chosen
the colour scheme to match the blue of the beach, the brown and white of his
own coloration, and snatches of green. Green is Sir Arthur’s favourite color.”

“It is, too,” Hugh mused. He turned around to Daniel. “What
do you think of that? Barnaby’s getting his own patchwork.”

“Barnaby is a very lucky dog.” He set the coffee on the
table. Mel’s tea was brewing.

Shouldn’t it be the other way around, the wife serving the
husband?

Although, he acknowledged as he went back for her tea,
slavery hadn’t been in the contract.

“There are cookies in the red tin in the pantry,” Mel called
out suddenly.

“Cookies?” He didn’t have baked goods in his house. Did he?

“Get them, Dan,” Hugh said. “I could do with a snack.”

Daniel found the tin, set it on the coffee table, sat down
with his coffee and turned to Hugh. He had to get some normalcy back. Blankets
for dogs, tea and cookies. Not to mention another human living in his
apartment. “Hugh. I was giving some thought to the position we’ve currently got
with the –”

“Mel?” Hugh jabbed his finger at the quilt. “Did you ever
consider making those for a living?”

“Oh, no. This is definitely only a hobby. I’ve been doing a
lot lately for something to do.”

Hugh raised his eyebrows at Daniel. “Daniel not keeping his
wife happy?”

“Cut it out,” Daniel muttered under his breath.

“Though to be honest,” Mel went on, “it had crossed my mind
this is something I could try, seeing as I’ll need a job – when this is over –
and there isn’t anything in my field.”

Daniel went still. “Have you been looking already?”

“Yes, online. It can take time with the interview process in
the education and social sectors. There’s often a good two month time lag.”

“Hmmm.” Hugh grunted, scratched his chin, glanced across at
Daniel. “Well, if you did have time, I had a quilt when I was a kid. The
bedspread I’ve got now is something Joss bought years ago and...” He shrugged.
“I haven’t had the heart to part with it, sentimental old bugger that I am. But
it occurred to me… ” He looked sheepishly into his coffee.

Mel smiled at him. “I’d be happy to make one for you, Hugh.”
Her eyes widened. “We could head over to Double Bay, they have the most
gorgeous shop with a superb selection of fabrics. You can choose your colours.”

Hugh brightened. “I’ll take you to lunch. Make an afternoon
of it.”

“Just be warned. Once you get inside a fabric shop, you’ll
find it hard to leave. They have one of the best selections available in Sydney
that I’ve seen although there is a gorgeous shop down in Cronulla now that’s
worth checking out.”

Daniel gripped his coffee tight. “You’re taking our company
lawyer out to choose –” He waved his hand in the direction of Barnaby’s quilt.
“Material?”

“Darn straight she is. As soon as Barnaby’s got his, I’m in.
Looks like you’ll have to get in line, Dan.”

Mel looked across at him, her eyebrows arched in question.
Do you want me to make you a quilt, Daniel
? A sudden, unexpected surge of
longing swept through him, startling him. This was all so domestic, so cute and
nice, but this wasn’t his life. He’d never wanted this life. He’d pitied people
who had this.

So why was he sitting here thinking that this was something
he could very easily get used to? Patchwork, tea and cookies, and Mel’s mess.
He could tell himself it was a distraction from his ordered, controlled life, a
life that had no hope of order with what was happening ten miles away at an
exclusive private hospital.

But bubbling away was the oddest feeling that if Mel Green
told him what to do, he’d darn well do it.

Mel finished the quilt that night and even though he told
himself he didn’t give a damn, the fact was, he did.

Mel led Barnaby through to the laundry, and to his basket.
The dog’s claws clattered on the polished floorboards, a sound, Daniel
realized, he’d gotten used to over the past few days. A sound he even thought
he was getting to like. It meant there was someone else in the house and
Melinda seemed to take it upon herself to be as invisible as possible most of
the time.

It was like living with a ghost.

And whose fault was that, a voice taunted? You’re meant to
like it like that. The solitude, the peace, the quiet, the privacy.

His gaze slipped to Mel as she held up the blanket and
scrutinized it critically. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, loose stands
and tendrils around her face. He stared at a rogue ringlet. He could pull the
ringlet out…

He drew a sharp breath and his gaze slipped to her mouth.
She was semi pouting, thoughtful.
Kissable
.

Heaven help him.

Satisfied, she turned, and bumped up against him. He’d been
leaning closer to smell her hair. Floral. Feminine. Seductive.

He jerked back, she frowned.

Flustered she said, “It might, um, take him a while to get
used to it. While I love the smell of new fabric I don’t think he will.”

Daniel dipped his head to the fabric to get rid of the
luscious smell of her. “I see what you mean. It’s quite unpleasant.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t say unpleasant. Just not very
dog.”

She bent down, set the new quilt on top of the older
blankets, smoothed it out until it reached the corners, and she patted it.
“Come here, Barnaby. It’s a new blanket, especially for you. What do you
think?”

Barnaby stared at her, his stumpy tail wagging from side to
side. “Woof.”

“He loves it,” Daniel said.

Mel stood up. “I hope so.”

Barnaby trotted back into the kitchen, and Mel sighed. “I
knew it would take time. Still, I’ll take it over to show Mum tomorrow. She’s
keen to see it.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said impulsively.

She went still. So still he was surprised she was still breathing.
Then she pushed her shoulders back, and flashed him a smile that didn’t reach
her eyes. “Why?” she asked simply.

“It feels unnatural to be married to a woman and not to know
her family. Especially when you consider how much you know about me.”

“You know plenty about me. You had me checked out and I
signed papers. And I don’t want her asking questions.”

“You’re extremely protective of her and I like that.” His
eyebrows knit together in a frown. “But are you seriously telling me the only
reason you haven’t introduced me before now is because she’ll get suspicious
and ask a few questions?”

Barnaby trotted back, and she hesitated. “Mum still thinks
I’m pining for Max.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Why does she think that?”

“She assumes it, and I don’t discourage her.” She bent down
to stroke Barnaby. Her pants tightened, revealing a band of black underwear,
and the smooth skin of her lower back. She looked up and he cleared his throat.
She said, “It’s kind of like the way Arthur thinks you and I are madly in love
with each other. We don’t discourage it.”

She stood up, and faced him. There was hardly any space
between them and he said, “What time are you seeing her tomorrow?”

“I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“I’m heading into work early. I’ll come back home at ten to
pick you up.”

“I normally go in my car.”

“We’ll go in mine.”

“No. You’ll have to slum it with me,” she told him tightly.
“Welcome to my world.”

His eyes glimmered. “I look forward to it.”

Mel was a mass of nerves as they turned into the driveway of
the Gertrude Ellerm Rest and Retirement Village.

Next to her Daniel sat stiffly, but his interest was easy to
detect. She doubted he ever set foot in this part of town. His world was the
exclusive eastern suburbs and the city.

In the back seat, Barnaby sat with his tongue lolling out,
panting. He loved being in the car, and he’d gotten to know Ellie. Mel had
resisted bringing him with her at first; she didn’t want her mother getting too
attached to him, but the two had grown very close, very quickly. It crossed her
mind that her mother was in a home, and Arthur for the past few months of his
life had been surrounded by nurses and doctors, and that it was some sort of
connection.

The gardens of the complex were well manicured but the
buildings were old and in need of refurbishing. One block had been tidied up
but her mother’s was well down on the list.

She stopped at the roundabout to give way to residents
walking slowly across the pedestrian crossing with a staff member helping them.

The retirement village was on the left, the rest home
clearly marked for the right.

She turned right.

Daniel commented, “You said your mother was in a retirement
village.”

“I know. But she’s in the rest home section.”

They drew up to the visitor parking, and she pulled to a
stop and killed the engine. Her car stopped with a jolt, a splutter and a final
jolt.

Daniel asked, “Has she been ill? You never mentioned it.”

“She hasn’t been well.” Mel climbed out, and grabbed her
bag, filled with new paperbacks she’d bought for Ellie as well as Barnaby’s
quilt to show her.

Daniel took Barnaby, and they walked in through the
entrance. Mel greeted the nurse at the reception counter.

She said, “Hey, Mel, how’s it going. Hey there Barnaby. Who
needs a pat today?”

She came around to pat Barnaby whose stubby tail wagged from
side to side. She stood up, looked at Daniel and her eyes widened.

“Good morning,” he greeted her.

“Yeah. Umm – hi.” The woman swallowed, lost for words.

They went down the hall and he asked, “How long has your
mother been in this part of the facility?”

Mel stopped at Ellie’s apartment. Her name was there, a
faded strip of cardboard in a metal surround. Mel had never noticed details
like this before now, but with Daniel here, it was all so glaringly obvious it
was cheap.

Mel glanced up but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “She’s been
here for two years.”

She knocked the familiar rap she used to let her mother know
it was her, heard Daniel’s sharp intake of breath, her mother called out, “Come
in, Mel,” and she opened the door and they stepped inside.

Daniel sat uncomfortably on a chair at the tiny
built-for-two table, while Mel sat on the sofa, and handed her mother a stack
of brand new paperbacks.

As she took them out, clearly thrilled, he noticed her
mother could only use one arm.

Frustration ground into him as he glanced around the
apartment. It was tidy, but could use new wallpaper, paint, furniture, and the
kitchenette looked like it was from the seventies. Why on earth hadn’t Mel
mentioned her mother was an invalid? He’d gotten used to that kind of life, for
heaven’s sake. Sir Arthur had been ailing for years.

Ellie Green sat in a wheelchair, glancing speculatively at
him. Mel had lifted Barnaby onto Ellie’s lap where she was stroking him and
where Barnaby apparently considered himself royalty. Mel had her mother’s eyes.
Blue, and sharp as hell. Ellie’s hair was lighter though, a deep blonde with
strands of grey that sat around her neck. Mel had introduced him as Daniel,
said she was his housekeeper for the next few months while she looked around
for another school job.

“Ready?” Mel said then.

Ellie glanced across at Daniel. She was clearly intrigued by
him, and he stood up uncomfortably, wishing he’d bought her something. Even
flowers or chocolates. But then he’d had a vision of pulling up to a modern
retirement complex with tennis courts, spa treatments, and happy hour around
the pool with chardonnay.

Not a poky apartment with a woman in a wheelchair.

He automatically took the handles of the chair and wheeled
her into the hall. Mel locked the door behind them. He was used to pushing Sir
Arthur around but this wheel chair was antiquated in comparison.

“Where are we headed, Mrs Green?” he asked.

Her good hand was on Barnaby. The dog was used to this and,
Daniel thought wryly, clearly used to the attention from other residents they
wheeled past.

“Just up the road to the shops,” she said. “And call me
Ellie.”

They were walking up the road with this thing? He hoped the
footpaths were in good condition.

“Mum can get around with a walker but she hates it in public
because she feels old."

"Ancient, not just old," Ellie quipped.

What had happened to her, he wondered. She looked only to be
in her early sixties, possibly even younger.

At the entrance, some more residents stopped to pat Barnaby,
and Daniel used the distraction to take Mel aside. “Why didn’t you tell me your
mother was an invalid?”

Her eyes held determination. “What would it have
accomplished?”

She shrugged off his arm, but tension continued to ripple
between them. He could feel it, taste it.

They moved out to the street, and Mel said, “The shops are
up here around the corner. I bring Mum down a couple of times a week so we can have
morning tea and a look around.”

   He pushed the wheelchair over a bump, trying to
make the ride as smooth as possible. “I’m sure most malls are wheelchair
friendly,” he suggested.

Mel’s face darkened, and as they stopped at a set of lights,
she took Barnaby from her mother and set him down. “I should let him walk now,
Mum. He hasn’t had a walk today.”

She stood up and as they crossed the road, with Barnaby
straining at the leash, she explained, “We stay to trips around here so we
don’t have to go too far from the rest home.”

 He glanced down at Ellie. At a guess she might tire
easily or need medication but she didn’t resemble a person who needed round the
clock care – like his grandfather.