Instant Family (8 page)

"Bowler," said Sebastian. "Spin."

"Cool. Most young bowlers want to be pace. Been following the
Tests?"

Sebastian nodded eagerly. "The Aussies are doing well. I'd love
to wear the baggy green."

"So would I. Won't now, of course. But you could."

"Doubt it."

Alex stood up. "Keep at it, and you never know. If you finish up
the front, that'll do you for today. Tomorrow you can tackle that
graffiti"

"How was it?" asked Chloe when she entered the house after work
and found Seb sprawled on his bed in his room.

He lifted his face from the cricket magazine he was reading.
"Okay." His gaze dropped to the article.

"Was he pleased with you?"

"Yeah"

"What's he like?"

"Okay."

"Not angry?"

"No. Why would he be angry? I'm there working for him, aren't
I?" His expression clearly announced, Stop with the dumb questions.

She withdrew and went to find Simone and Katy.

Later that evening the phone rang. Chloe, yawning in front of the
TV, thinking about bed, picked up.

"Hello."

"Hello, Chloe. Hope I'm not calling too late."

The sound of his voice, so unexpected and warm in her ear, jolted
through her body, snapping her to attention. She jerked up straight
on the couch. Her hand, unaccountably, had begun to shake. She
opened her mouth to reply, but nothing emerged.

"Chloe? Are you there?"

"Yes." She coughed and cleared her throat.

"Were you asleep?"

"No." She glanced at the clock.

"I thought I should report on Sebastian."

"Did he do a good job?" Her hand clutched the receiver as though
it were a life preserver.

"Excellent."

"Oh, thank goodness," emerged on a pent-up lungful of air.
"What did he do? I couldn't get much more than a grunt out of him."

Alex laughed softly and didn't reply for a moment. "I had him
tidy up the front and back lawns. There's not so much as a blade of
grass on the loose there now."

"He does our garden. Takes turns with Julian. We all have chores
to do. It wouldn't work otherwise." The stiffness melted from her
spine, and Chloe lounged back into the cushions and swung her bare
feet up, wrapping her free hand around her bent knees.

"It must have been impossibly difficult for you," Alex said. "At
the time"

"Yes." Chloe swallowed. "It was hard. But we're all right now."
She felt her cheeks warming uncomfortably. What on earth would
he think about that remark? How could Seb's turning into a juvenile
delinquent possibly classify as "all right"? Especially by the man whose property he'd vandalized? She straightened her legs and sat
up. What a total idiot she was, sitting here like a teenager talking
to her boyfriend. Thank goodness he couldn't see her. "I mean, until recently," she said stiffly.

"I don't think Sebastian is heading for a life of crime, Chloe. He
made a mistake, he's owned up, and now he's doing his best to pay
for it. He's too smart to do it again."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes." The firmness of his reply was reassuring. "But he has a lot
more hours to do for me, so we'll see if he can keep it up." The stern
man reemerged, the real one. The one who had a family and property to protect. The virtual stranger doing Seb a favor.

"Yes, of course." Chloe bit her lip. Alex was right. Seb might not
think this such a good plan in a few weeks' time, when school was
back in session and all his other commitments kicked in.

"Tomorrow I'm making him clean the graffiti off the driveway
here and next door. There are four neighbors he'll have to visit too.
Send him along with some rubber gloves. Mine will be too big."

"What can he use to remove it?" Wasn't spray paint really tough
to get off? How much would paint remover cost, or had Alex already
factored that in? Probably. He was very organized.

"I've bought some stuff. I'll give him a mask to wear-the fumes
are pretty toxic."

"Is it safe?" she demanded swiftly.

"Yes. Trust me, Chloe. I know about these things. I have a builder's
license."

"Sorry." The man was a professional-highly qualified, educated,
and busy. Very soon he'd cut off this meandering conversation to
do something more important.

"Not at all. You're right to be concerned. I'm quite paranoid
where my daughter's health and safety are involved."

Apart from letting her overeat and spoiling her. Chloe stifled her
grin in case her jangly nerves made her laugh out loud. "How old is
she?"

"Six going on seventeen." He laughed with all the proud love of
a doting dad. "I suppose all fathers say that about their daughters.
Can't bear to see them growing up."

"Bevan used to say that about Katy," said Chloe. How he'd adored his little girl. But she was an adorable child. Still was. They all loved
her fiercely.

"Bevan?" Now his voice was subdued, as if felt guilty for mentioning fathers and daughters and guilty for having an unimpaired, close
relationship with his. Such talk didn't bother any of the children now.
They'd long ago worked through the grief and the associated traumas.
Counseling had been provided, and someone was always available if
any of them needed help in that way.

"Bevan was my stepfather. Mum married him when I was ten and
my sister Terry was twelve. He was a fantastic dad to all of us. He
wanted as many children as he could convince Mum to produce."
She smiled at the memory. "But Mum thought five was plenty. Especially if more twins were likely."

Alex chuckled softly. "I don't blame her. He sounds very special."

"He was."

"What about your real father?"

"He wasn't special. He cleared out when Terry was eighteen
months old and Mum was pregnant with me."

"You've never met him?"

"Never laid eyes on him. Never even heard a peep out of him
when Mum and Terry were killed."

"What a miserable wretch of a man," Alex said with a snort of
disbelief.

"I never think about him. Bevan was my dad, even though he came
along a bit late. Good thing he did. He restored my faith in the male of
the species." Chloe gave a little laugh.

"I'm glad. We're not all stinkers," retorted Alex.

"I know."

"I'd better say good night." He sounded reluctant. "I have to go to
a building site early tomorrow. Check on a delivery. The whole
thing's becoming a gigantic headache."

"Do you want Seb to come later?"

"No. I should be back by eight."

She glanced at the clock. They'd been chatting for nearly ten minutes. Friendly chat, sharing information. At least she'd been sharing
information. She didn't know anything more about Alex Bergman
other than he was pleased with Seb and thought he was a smart boy, which anyone with half a brain would discover in a second. And he
worked hard and doted on his daughter, which she already knew.

"Good night. Thanks for calling."

"My pleasure."

What on earth would his wife be thinking?

Sebastian and Alex sat on the terrace under the shade umbrella
again the next morning. The boy had scrubbed and scrubbed until
the foul words had completely disappeared. The driveway had a very
clean patch, which contrasted strangely with the surrounding grayed
concrete. It had taken him two solid hours and then some.

"Should I do next door's now?" Sebastian asked.

"Do you want to?" Jeannie would be pleased. Four-year-old Kenneth had taken to announcing the spray-painted phrase at all sorts of
inopportune moments.

"Might as well, while I've got the stuff."

"All right, but have a break and a drink first."

"Did you get the word?" Sebastian peered at the paper, opened to
the puzzle page.

"Yes, I did." Alex smirked. He poured water into a tall glass.
Ice cubes tinkled against the sides.

"How long did it take you?" Sebastian grinned.

"Not long."

Sebastian drained the glass and refilled it. "Did you watch the oneday game yesterday?"

"Only caught bits on the car radio between appointments. Close
one, huh?"

Sebastian embarked on an analysis of the Australian bowling attack and the weakness of the South African batting lineup, which
lead to an in-depth discussion lasting at least half an hour.

Alex finally looked at his watch and stifled a gasp of annoyance.
Half the morning gone, and the Robertson bathroom renovation quote
still not typed up, plus Smythe's kitchen. Too much work. Not for
the first time the thought crossed his mind that he needed a partner. Or at least a secretary. When he set himself up solo, he'd had no
idea just how busy he'd become. "Listen, mate. It's probably too hot
to be using that stuff on the driveway now. How about you do it first
thing tomorrow?"

Sebastian nodded and got up to put the equipment away in the
shed. "See ya," he said.

Alex waved and went inside. A part-time secretary-that's what
he needed. Someone to take care of the reams of paperwork. The
phone rang stridently. And to answer the phone.

"Bergman Design."

"Is Seb still with you?" asked a desperate voice. A secretary to
answer the phone unless she was on the other end.

"He's just wheeling his bike out the gate."

"Thank goodness. I thought he must have ... I don't know," she
finished pathetically.

Alex grimaced with a belated realization of the situation, her natural, albeit panicky, assumption that the boy had nicked off somewhere. "I'm sorry. I should have phoned to let you know he'd be
late. He worked overtime, and then we had a drink."

"A drink?" interrupted Chloe in a squeak.

"Iced water," said Alex. "Then we talked about cricket."

"Oh."

Silence. How did she know Sebastian wasn't at home? Grandma
must have reported in.

"Are you at work?"

"Not today. I have Wednesdays off."

"He might be late again tomorrow. He's doing the same thing at
the neighbors."'

"I'll tell Simone."

"He should be home soon."

"Thanks. Sorry to disturb you. Bye."

Click in his ear. Alex shook his head, smiling. Chloe was a case,
all right. Worse than any mother. She needed a focus in her life other
than all those children. Did she go out? Did she have friends? A
boyfriend? He'd ask Sebastian tomorrow.

Alex posed his query idly over their morning drink the next day. He
justified the break to himself-he'd started very early, and Sebastian had worked slavishly on Jeannie's driveway, with Kenneth supervising and asking questions in a piping voice Alex could hear from his
office.

"Yeah, Chloe's got friends," Sebastian said. "Although most of
them have left town now. They were mainly her friends from Uni
and school. She had a boyfriend, but he dropped her after the
bombing."

"Really?" Just when she'd need the guy most.

"He was a loser."

"What did she study?" Chloe had a degree? What in, and why
was she working in a shop if she was qualified in some other profession?

"Jazz guitar at the ANU, but she didn't finish."

Alex swallowed his surprise. A jazz guitarist? "How much had she
completed?" No need to ask why. She was a musician, a performing
artist. How that must hurt. A surge of rage almost choked him at the
senselessness of the terrorists who had created this vast wave of destruction stretching on into the future. Multiply Chloe's story by hundreds, no doubt.

"Two years and part of the third. She says she can't even think
about finishing now."

"She could still go back, couldn't she?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I suppose."

"Does she still play?"

"Yeah, she teaches. She plays classical guitar too. And sings."

So talented. Wasted. "As well as working in that shop?"

"She only does that part-time and during the school holidays when
students don't come for lessons and she can't go to the schools."

"I see"

"She does gigs sometimes. Not much, though" He sucked in the
last ice cube from his glass and rolled it about in his mouth. "She
went on a date with that cop," he said through a watery slurp.

"Which cop?"

"The one who called her about me."

"Burrows?" Tall, dark-haired, a protective arm around her shoulders, stern expression in the face of Alex's fury that night. Someone
she could trust in a time of trouble. A little squirm of envy coiled deep
in his gut. And guilt.

"Yeah. He's cool."

He had to ask. Casually. "Does she like him?"

"Dunno."

"How would you feel about having a cop in the family?" Alex
raised an eyebrow.

Sebastian pulled a face, and Alex grinned.

"She won't marry him," said Sebastian. "She's not going to marry
anyone. Not until we've left home" Was that relief swamping the
envy? Ridiculous. Why should he care who Chloe Gardiner dated?
He barely knew her.

"Why not?"

"She said she wouldn't leave us until we could support ourselves."