Read Jilted Online

Authors: Rachael Johns

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Jilted (39 page)

BOOK: Jilted
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Joyce seemed to understand this. Instead of stepping forward to embrace Ellie she simply nodded and thrust a small, white envelope into her hand. ‘My details,’ she informed her. ‘Email, mobile, Facebook.’

Ellie threw her head back and laughed. ‘I’ll friend you the moment I find some wi-fi.’

‘Good girl.’ Joyce’s eyes were misty. Ellie wanted to say something but the scratchiness in her throat stopped her. Joyce went on. ‘Please, do keep in touch. I’ll watch you on the telly every night, but it won’t be the same.’

‘I will.’ And she meant it. Joyce felt like her last connection to Matilda. ‘If you ever visit Sydney, I’ve a spare bed with your name on it.’

‘You might regret saying that, girl.’

‘I won’t.’

Oh, to hell with it
. If she cried, she cried. Ellie leaned forward and kissed Joyce on the cheek. ‘Thanks for everything. This is definitely not goodbye.’

Joyce smiled and Ellie turned away. Defeated, she wrapped her hand around the suitcase handle and started to walk.

Flynn had woken early in the scungy roadside motel – earlier than the sun – and decided he may as well start the last leg of his journey straight away. The showers in these places were more like leaking taps, and he couldn’t wait to stand under his own shower, then crawl into his own bed for a good rest before the evening. Before the play. Before seeing Ellie, if she was still around. He’d skipped breakfast, thoughts already spiralling in his head about what he’d say to her.

It felt weird to be arriving back in town on a Saturday morning, two months after that Saturday of Ellie’s return. A lot had happened in that time. Felt more like two years.

As he drove down the main street, past the craziness of Saturday morning shopping, he waved at a few locals. He passed the Co-op, About Coffee Time, the post office, Hairlicious, and when he came out the other side of the tiny business district, he slowed for a stray dog to cross the road. As he did, he saw Ellie sitting at the Transwa bus stop, her suitcase at her feet. Even with her head in her hands, Flynn would know Ellie anywhere. Everything about her had imprinted itself on him.

Distracted, he almost hit the dog, swerving to avoid it at the last moment. His brakes squealed as he slammed his feet, taking a moment to regain control of the car and moderate his breathing. He drove a little further and pulled over. Far enough from the bus stop to think, far enough to turn around to take another look. It was definitely her. His chest pounded and his stomach made to heave the breakfast he hadn’t had.

The whole time he’d been away, he hadn’t come to any conclusions about Ellie. And she hadn’t left, not yet anyway. He’d never been one to look for signs but did this mean something? Did it mean he was becoming superstitious or did it mean his heart had been right, that it was trying to tell him the one thing he’d known all along? That he loved her.

His head throbbed. Rodger started fretting beside him, standing up, placing his paws on the headrest. He looked out the back window and pined. Pined because he saw a bus pulling away. Pulling away and taking the girl they both loved with it.

A rap on the window startled Flynn. Taking his eyes off the bus he saw his mum peering in. Lucy, standing beside her, waved. He wound the window down and stared up at the woman who had dried his tears when he’d broken bones, who’d cooked chocolate
brownies whenever he felt down. And right now, he felt lower than ever.

‘She’s gone, Mum.’

Looking close to tears herself, Karina opened the driver’s door and knelt down in the red dirt. She leaned forward and pulled Flynn’s aching head onto her shoulder. She rubbed his back the way she had when he was sick in bed as a child.

‘I know it doesn’t feel like it now,’ she said, ‘but I promise it’ll get better soon. You’ve been so strong, I’m so proud of you. And I know, my darling son, that one day some extra special woman is going to walk into your life and make you forget all the pain Ellie put you through. Make you forget about her.’

Flynn froze in his mum’s arms. Her words drove home a truth he himself was only just realising now. That he wouldn’t find anyone else. He wouldn’t because in ten long years, no other woman had come close to generating the feelings he had for Elenora Hughes. Even her not trusting him, not confiding in him and holding back the truth, it didn’t make the love he felt for her lessen. If anything, he reflected, it just made the need stronger. He had to make her see sense, to prove his love, to show her that there wasn’t and isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make her happy and protect her from any more pain.

He pulled back from his mother’s embrace. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, but you’re wrong. Ellie’s the woman for me. I hope in time you’ll let go of the past and see that she’s my future,
our
future.’

‘But Flynn …’ Karina looked perplexed as she pushed herself up and stepped back enough for Flynn to shut the door. Behind her, he could see his little sister smiling.

‘I’ll explain everything later,’ he said, starting the car. As he spun it around and back along the main street, she shouted something after him, but he didn’t hear what it was. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now, other than catching up with Ellie and righting his
world. And as if he understood, Rodger perked up beside him. He moved his paws from the headrest to the dash, bouncing in his seat like an excited puppy.

‘Settle down, boy,’ Flynn told the dog, ‘we’ll catch that bus easy.’

But as they approached the level crossing, the lights began to flash and the bells began to ring. Flynn cursed. He’d forgotten that the train also passed through Hope at this time of day. He resisted the urge to put his foot down, staying on the right side of the law but this side of the tracks.

Rodger barked nonstop as the train passed. It had to be the longest train Flynn had ever seen. Even as a boy, when he’d counted the carriages of every freight train he saw, he never came across one this long. Or this slow.

He glanced at the dashboard clock every few seconds, readying his foot on the accelerator for a speedy take-off. Even if he broke the speed limit, meeting Ellie at the next town would be touch and go. He knew the bus didn’t stop for long at Katanning.

‘Fuck!’ He ran a hand through his hair, still messy from the night before, and wished his ute had wings. Then a thought struck him.

Chapter Thirty-seven

A couple of people got on at Katanning, but Ellie breathed a sigh of relief when neither of them sat next to her. She leaned her head back against the window, hoping to get some kind of sleep on the journey to Perth. In the distance she could see dark clouds, gathering as if to mirror her mood. She didn’t want to think about what she was doing, what she was leaving behind. Again. Problem was, every time she shut her eyes, she saw Flynn speeding by the Hope Junction bus stop. She was stupid enough to imagine that he’d seen her and stopped his ute. She swore he’d actually stopped, her heart strumming wildly, dreaming up some stupid fairytale ending where he realised he loved her and turned around and came back and stopped her from leaving – all just in the nick of time. But he didn’t, and he hadn’t. Stupid all right. It could be her middle name.

She heard the doors of the bus close. The driver pulled out of the parking lot and started down the road, but had barely gone a hundred metres when he swung onto the shoulder and stopped
again. At the sudden movement and the gasps from the other passengers, Ellie looked up.

The automatic doors peeled back. She expected a late arrival, but instead saw a smiley, redheaded policeman climb onto the bus, pausing to survey the passengers. He pushed his aviator-style sunglasses atop his head and smiled some more.

‘Looking for a Ms Elenora Hughes? Anyone here by that name?’

All the passengers, behind and in front, turned to look at Ellie. Fear washed over her. She’d been through a lot in her twenty-nine years, but never once had a policeman announced he was looking for her. She racked her brain for any misdemeanours she may have committed without realising it, and slid a little lower in her seat, wishing she had her cap on. She’d definitely paid for her bus ticket – with a credit card, over the phone – and she’d barely driven Mat’s car enough the past few days to speed or run a stop sign. As far as she could recall, she’d done nothing warranting police attention.

The policeman turned to the driver. ‘Know if there’s anyone by that name on your bus, sir?’

Grumbling something under his breath, the driver consulted a print-out. ‘Can only tell you if she booked by credit card.’

Dammit
. Before the driver could expose her, Ellie stood up. ‘Umm, that’s me.’ She waved her hand slightly. She could imagine what everyone was thinking. Hell, if it wasn’t her standing there mystified, she’d be picturing wicked crimes too. Sweat beaded at her brow as the policeman walked slowly up the aisle, his smile growing somewhat creepy. He stopped at her row and gestured to her rucksack.

‘Is that all you have?’

Quaking inside, she held her head high and shook it. ‘I have a suitcase, in the storage compartment.’

‘I’ll get it,’ said the driver, all too eager to offload a possible criminal.

‘No, wait!’ Ellie found the courage to raise her voice. ‘What is this about? I need to get to Perth, I have a plane to catch.’

The policeman held up his hands. ‘Not my problem, miss. I’m just following orders. If you’ll please step this way.’

Ellie thought about staging a protest, then took in the gaze of those around her. They wanted her to make a scene, wanted some juicy gossip to tell their friends. But this was already enough to make Dwayne blow a gasket. Gritting frustration between her teeth, Ellie swung her bag over her shoulder, not giving two hoots that she almost hit the officer in the process. She stormed down the aisle and off the bus, and sarcastically thanked the driver, who all but threw her suitcase at her feet. Could this day possibly get any worse?

Her shoulders sagged as she watched the bus pull out onto the seemingly endless country road. She turned to the policeman to demand some answers, but as she opened her mouth to speak, so did he.

‘Well, miss, I’ll be leaving now. Have a good day.’

‘What the hell?!’ She grabbed him by the arm, then, realising what she was doing, promptly let go. He just looked at her, chuckling. ‘What do you mean, have a good day? Is this some kind of prank? Are you really even a policeman?’ She tried to calm her panicked breathing. A thought struck her. ‘If you’re a journalist, I’ll have you for this.’ Her blood boiled, the bus now a mere speck in the distance. Anger and worry warred within her.

‘No prank, miss, and I assure you I am
not
a journalist.’

‘Then what? A psycho sadist?’ She dug her heels into the dirt, looking around for someone who could help her. The bus stop had little to recommend itself, but behind it was a pub – although both were far out of earshot. ‘Because quite frankly, Constable, I’ve had a pretty shitty week, and this is the pooey icing on the crap cake.’

‘I don’t mean to make things worse.’ He shrugged and looked past her, back up the road. ‘In fact, I hope I’m about to make your day.’

With those cryptic words, he swung his keys on his index finger like some sheriff in a western, and swaggered off to the cop car parked at the edge of the road. And just like that he left her there, in what felt like the middle of nowhere, with nothing but a suitcase and a rucksack. Not to mention she had a plane to catch. If she missed her flight, there was no guarantee she’d get the next one. And if she didn’t get back to Sydney soon, she was going to lose her job.

Fuck
. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to tame the shaking. Tears threatened once again. And dammit, she hadn’t packed any tissues.

Wondering if she’d stepped into some kind of alternate reality, Ellie glanced at the pub behind her, contemplating a glass of something potent. Something that would calm her nerves while she worked out what the hell to do next. She could call Joyce, perhaps. Or find out when the next bus was due. But it wasn’t like this was city central; there were hours, sometimes days, between scheduled stops. And what cab driver, she wondered, would come out here to pick her up? Looked like hitchhiking might be her only option. And the clouds were getting closer now, no less, threatening to spill out and strand her further.
Fuck!

Ellie took hold of her suitcase once again, and began to drag it, and herself, towards the pub. As she made her way across the road, a ute appeared on the horizon. Pathetic maybe, but it sent her thoughts straight to Flynn. Perhaps he’d come to rescue her from Katanning’s crazy cop.

Stupid
. She let out a near-hysterical cackle. Every second farmer had a ute like Flynn’s. She was truly losing the plot.

She plodded on slowly. The ute came to pass her and continued
up the road, and soon was gone, just like the bus, the wind whipping around her.

She was fifty metres from the pub when she heard another car approaching, but she didn’t bother looking up this time. As it got closer, the driver slowed and did a U-turn. Ellie’s heart raced – she could almost hear her pulse thrashing in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was the fear of the driver being another kook, someone looking for a vulnerable female hitchhiker, or the excitement that perhaps it
was
Flynn. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t let that fantasy go.

The vehicle pulled up behind her. A little edgy, she carried on, the suitcase feeling heavier and heavier as she wheeled it hurriedly towards the pub.

‘Ellie!’

At this shout, her heart slammed in her chest, shuddered and stopped. Her feet froze and the case clattered to the ground at her heels. That voice, she’d recognise anywhere. And it wasn’t some loony. It was Flynn Quartermaine.

She wanted to turn around, wanted it more than anything, to face him – one look in his eyes and she’d know why he’d come – but her feet stayed stuck in place. What if he …? What if he didn’t …?

The door of the ute slammed, echoing in the wind, and boots slapped the tar as he strode towards her. She waited, agonising, unable to speak, unable to think.

BOOK: Jilted
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