Finding Elizabeth (30 page)

“‘The first cut is the deepest.’ Nothing else mattered after that except your career, which became your whole life. It’s time you relaxed. Have a little faith, have a little fun. You and Jack haven’t known each other long, but it was the same with Andrew and me. The love, the connection, was so strong, life couldn’t continue without it. Don’t throw that away.”

“No.” Katherine shook her head. “It’s all starting to make sense. I clung to the fact that Jack lived thousands of miles away, but in reality I couldn’t let go of something that happened in my teens. Leandra kept saying not all men will leave you. She said I should forgive Dad for leaving.” She giggled softly. “Everyone knew, except me.”

On edge, Jack paced the floor. Now and then, he stopped to stare out the chalet window, hoping he’d see Katherine’s taxi pull up.

“Dear boy,” Pierre said, “that’s not going to get them here any quicker.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Cynthia pleaded, voice croaky from fatigue and distress. “Something must have happened. Is it Katherine—is there something wrong with our Katy? Pierre, do you know?”

“I’m sorry, Cynthia.” Looking worried, Pierre inclined his head. “I can’t say.”

“Okay, Mum, I’ll tell you what I know, but you might want to sit down,” Leandra suggested.

“Oh, now that’s really helpful.” Cynthia’s voice wobbled. “Has someone died?”

“It’s a shock, but no one’s died.” Jack put in. “You could say the opposite is true.”

“Oh my lord!” Cynthia exclaimed. “Who’s pregnant?”

“Mum!” Leandra complained.

“Well, what am I expected to think?” Cynthia declared, batting her black lashes and tucking a stray blonde curl back under a hairgrip.

With Dave and Leandra’s help, and the occasional comment from Pierre, Jack filled Cynthia in on all the news.

As she listened quietly, shock, disbelief and compassion crossed Cynthia’s face.

“There you go, Mum—
Mum?
Are you all right?”

Thinking Cynthia was going to faint, Jack leaned forward and said, “It’s all right. I figured you knew Andrew was Kate’s dad. You and Margaret are like sisters and she would’ve shared her exciting news.”

Cynthia’s eyes lost that shocked stare; she looked at Jack and he nodded.

Dave turned up with a glass of water and wrapped Cynthia’s hands around the glass. “Drink,” he ordered.

She took a sip, and then another. Slowly, colour returned to Cynthia’s face. “Give me a few minutes to process this.” She took a deep breath.

Mumbling about unnecessary family dramas, Pierre wandered over to the drinks cabinet and mixed Cynthia and himself a Scotch.

Crisis over, Jack eased himself into a chair.

“I didn’t twig at all when we were introduced,” Cynthia said to Jack. “It has been thirty-two years and I’m suffering from jetlag; I suppose I can be forgiven for not connecting the dots. Margaret swore me to secrecy at the time. I understood how she felt and kept my promise.” Cynthia downed the rest of the water. “I remember Andrew being an honest and loyal man.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Jack said.

“Um … did Andrew ever mention Mike Smithson?” Cynthia asked.

“Sure, many times,” Jack said. “Andrew has great memories. He didn’t talk about what happened very often, but when he did, he used to say, ‘There’s always a place at my table for Mike’.”

Cynthia bowed her head and stared at her hands. A tear fell from the tip of her nose. She raised her chin and, with a question in her eyes, looked straight at Jack.

“I’m sorry, Cynthia,” Jack said. “There’s no mistake, Mike died instantly. Andrew wanted to visit Mike’s grave. He went back to the villages in Cambodia and Laos. Andrew showed them a sketch of Mike’s tattoo: the name
Cynthia
across a pin-up girl. Recognising it, they took him to Mike’s gravesite, nodded, smiled and said Mike was a good man and would return one day.” Jack put his hands together Buddhist style and bowed. “They said this with great love and understanding of Mike.”

Cynthia’s tears flowed. Leandra sat by her mother, holding her hand and murmuring softly.

On his way back to the window, Jack heard Cynthia say, “Your dad would’ve loved you to bits, and he would’ve been so proud.”

“Thanks, Mum.” Leandra grabbed a handful of tissues. “I know we haven’t talked about him for years, but I just want to say thanks for not keeping Mike a secret, because this news must be so hard on Kate right now.”

“Given time, Margaret and Kate will both be okay.” Cynthia turned to Jack and asked, “Why did the army declare Andrew dead?”

“Andrew had lost his papers in one of the villages, and to be safe, the villagers burnt them. Misleading information did the rest.” Jack shrugged.

She nodded. “I guess it’s back to Spain and the pool boy then,” Cynthia quipped and quietly laughed at her own joke.

Pierre handed Cynthia her Scotch. “Thought you may need this.”

“Jack …
Jack!”
Dave called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, coming.” Reluctant to leave his stakeout at the window, Jack ambled over to his friend. “What’s up?”

“Kate and her mum will get here without you standing guard,” Dave said. “We’re ordering takeout, any suggestions?”

“Soup.” With a constricted chest and a stampede happening in his stomach, Jack couldn’t imagine anything but liquid sliding down his throat.

“What?!” Dave pulled a face and scratched his head. “Come on. You can do better than that.”

Bubbles sat between them, looking from one to the other with a sock in her mouth, her tail swishing back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Minestrone?” Jack shrugged.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll order a bucket load.” Dave’s eyes darted to where Leandra was sitting with her mother. “Excuse me, Lea, do you eat garlic bread?”

“Yes, and lots of it,” she said.

He may have given Jack his usual cheeky grin, but his soft brown eyes told another story: Dave was love sick.

Jack kept his chuckle to a minimum.

“Just making sure,” Dave said. “I’m looking out for Lea, don’t want to munch on garlic if she doesn’t.”

“Yep, I’m looking out for Katherine.” Jack smiled, understanding only too well. “That’s why the window is my friend.”

“Yeah,” Dave gave him a comical but horrified look. “I’m even thinking of …” he leaned in closer and whispered, “babies.”

“You?” Jack grinned, and narrowed his eyes to stare at Dave. “You love Lea—I mean
really
love her.”

Dave snapped around to look at Leandra—seriously look. Back to Jack he said. “Yes, why? She’s in my head all damn day. I want to … want to …”

“Yeah Dave, I know what you want,” Jack nodded, then whispered from the side of his mouth. “Fucking tell Lea you love her.”

“I have, but she either gets hostile or walks out the room shaking her head. She can’t accept that I love her.”

“Have you told Lea, in a serious way—no joking and making fun?”

Dave paused and had one of those one-hundred-yard-stare moments. He looked up, his face contorted with pain and worry.

“
Dave
,” Jack warned, “tell Lea, and no jokes.”

An hour later a steaming pot of soup sat ready on the kitchen bench. Jack scanned the long refectory table. The candles made it look fittingly festive for the occasion. A roaring fire made it perfect.

Jack ushered Cynthia to a place at the head of the table, leaving the other end vacant for Margaret. Dave and Leandra sat opposite him, next to Pierre.

The doorbell chimed and everyone jumped. Bubbles whined. It couldn’t be anyone other than Katherine and her mother. Jack took a deep breath and pushed his chair back to go answer the door.

Dave got up and mumbled something about,
should’ve put some music on
, and followed Jack, while holding Bubbles by the collar. On edge, Jack wondered what Margaret’s reaction would be—hopefully favourable and not
why did you come here and wreck my daughter’s life—and mine?

Shit.

Jack turned the handle, and with one quick concerned glance over his shoulder at Dave, he opened the door. “Kate, and you must be Margaret, please come in.” He closed the door and took their coats.

Bubbles jumped about like a puppy.

“Oh good lord,” Margaret exclaimed, settling the dog with a pat on the head. “I knew you were big, but up close you’re even bigger than I expected. And she’s got something in her mouth.”

“You’re just in time. Dinner’s ready. I’m Jack Riley,” he said, right hand extended while his other yanked at a pair of jocks in Bubbles’ mouth. “And this is Dave Wilson.”

“Lovely to meet you both,” Margaret said. Her discerning gaze lingered on Jack as he turned to kiss Katherine on the mouth.

“Come on through.” Jack ushered them into the dining area and suddenly it was like all hell had broken loose in a henhouse. He could barely keep up with the talking between the four women, so he stopped trying. He figured Katherine would enlighten him about anything important.

The minestrone soup was delicious, and no one worried or fussed about the growing pile of plates in the kitchen. The banter between Dave and Leandra, Cynthia and Dave, Margaret, Cynthia and Pierre, Katherine, Dave, Leandra and Pierre made Jack’s head spin. Not used to family gatherings, he realised these events were clearly missing in his and Andrew’s lives. He savoured every animated moment.

To get everyone’s attention, Margaret tinkled her glass with a spoon. “Since everyone knows about Andrew, I want to ask what’s going to happen next?” She turned to Katherine, and Jack held his breath. “Katy, do you know, sweetheart?”

“I, um—why me?” Katherine protested. She looked around the table for help and got none. She groaned and rolled her eyes, and Jack wanted to laugh. “Mum,
you’re
the most important person in this,” Katherine shot back. And to Jack she said, “Andrew too, of course.”

Jack smiled encouragement, and gave her a whatever-you-decide shrug.

She took a deep breath and looked at her mum. “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt your feelings. I’ve already told Andrew I would like to meet him, but …”

“That’s settled then.” Margaret raised her glass. “I think it’s a great idea. I want to see him too.”

Cynthia dabbed her eyes. “Oh god, I so love being part of this.” She looked up, eyes bright. “Don’t think for a moment I’m going to be left out either,” she said, wagging her finger at Margaret.

“I wouldn’t dream—” Margaret told her.

“Or me,” Pierre put in.

“How’re we going to do this?” Jack asked. “All fly to Australia—get Andrew to come here? What do you think?”

“That’s seven people flying south, or one flying north,” Margaret said. “It makes more sense to ask Andrew to come here, don’t you think?” she asked everyone.

“All in favour, raise your glass.” Jack scanned the table. “What’s with you, Dave?”

“I thought it was a family vote.”

“
Dave …
” Jack sighed.

“Sure, bring Andrew here. My place? Your place?” He looked like a lost puppy.

“Not the cabin. I’m not ready for that yet,” Margaret said. “And not a restaurant either. Pierre, what do you think?”

“I’d say my place, but it’s too small to fit everyone.”

“How about right here? It’s almost neutral territory and big enough,” Jack suggested.

“Thank you, Jack, that’s sounds perfect,” Margaret told him, fiddling nervously with her napkin.

Sun poured into Jack’s bedroom window and hit Katherine smack on the forehead. She opened one eye. “You didn’t close the drapes properly.”

Jack’s hand slid firmly over her belly and gave her a delicious massage. “Morning, sleepy head,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the mouth.

“Hmm,” she stretched along the warm length of him and used her body to caress his.

“I haven’t slept like that in a long time,” he said, nestling into her.

“I love waking up with you in the morning.” She loved the feel of his strong hands and wriggled closer.

Jack ducked under the covers to rain soft kisses on her breasts. “I enjoy having you in my bed,” he murmured.

Katherine laughed as his mouth moved further down, tickling her ribs and soft belly. “Cut that out, I have to use the bathroom,” she said, lifting the covers to peer at him in the dark. He grinned at her and dived for a thigh. “That’s it, I’m off.” She wrestled herself free and ran to the ensuite.

She heard a thump as Jack’s feet hit the floor. He was in hot pursuit.

“No-o!”
she squealed, laughing. He playfully smacked her bottom. She was about to flick him with a towel, but lost her grip. He tossed it aside and dashed into the shower cubicle. By the time she looked up, Jack was standing under the water, a devilish grin on his face. Rivulets ran down his muscular form as he idly tossed the soap in one hand and unconsciously rubbed his toned stomach with the other.

She cocked her hip and inclined her head. “I see you’ve risen to the occasion.”

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he said and gave her a slow, provocative wink.

Laughing, Katherine joined him under the cascading water. Nicely wet all over, he slid his soapy hands lovingly over her body. The erotic sensation sent a thrill through Katherine.
Oh god
. She tingled from toes to fingertips, writhing under his touch.