Nobody but Him (26 page)

And then it happened so fast she wondered later if it had really happened at all.

Ry stepped in, so close. He reached up, his warm hands cupping her cheeks, holding her firmly in place. His sapphire eyes searched her face, and he leaned in, his mouth a tease away from hers. Then he closed the distance, kissing her as if he knew too that this was the last time. His softness and his strength battled in waves against her and she forgot to breathe.

As their lips crushed against each other, Julia tasting him and feeling him invade her senses, she willed herself to remember every moment of it. This last kiss. The way he looked at her, his passionate eyes. The softness then the insistence in his lips. The hunch of his muscular shoulders. The strength and control in him.

She willed herself to remember every single thing about him.

As suddenly as he’d touched her, Ry pulled away, his face drawn and unsmiling, a crease between his eyebrows. He stepped back, jammed his fists into the pockets of his jeans, and made sure there was a distance between them once again.

When the wobble in her legs faded, she gripped the handles of the bag Ry had given her and turned to walk away. She needed to get away from him, as fast as she could, before she said something stupid.

Like ‘sorry’.

It was only a short walk to the café but Julia took it slowly, wanting to find some equilibrium before meeting up with Lizzie. She was determined to find some happy to share with her best friend, even though she didn’t feel it. Lizzie had borne all her burdens since she’d been back, been her sounding board, her hand-holder and her sympathetic ear. She couldn’t burden her with this latest episode of self-loathing. That wouldn’t be fair.

God, she needed a glass of wine, a hot bath, a good book with a happy-ever-after ending and Melbourne. Then this whole Middle Point chapter in her life would finally be over and she could start afresh. She’d done that before. She knew the drill.

Julia found Lizzie at a table right by the front window of the café and sat down opposite.

‘Sorry I’m late.’

Lizzie waived a hand.’ Don’t stress. I’ve just got here myself. And your timing is perfect. I’ve been debating whether it’s coffee or wine that I need. Which side are you on?’

‘God, wine.’ Julia glanced at her watch and tried to smile. ‘What the hell. It must be wine o’clock somewhere. I’ve asked Stella to join us. That okay with you?’

Lizzie smiled. ‘Of course it is.’ After they’d placed their lunch orders, Lizzie leaned over the table and raised her eyebrows at her friend.

‘You okay?’

Julia sighed. ‘No.’

‘What’s up?’

‘Stella wasn’t the only person I saw on my way here.’

‘He who shall not be mentioned?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Where?’

Just thinking about what had happened a few minutes before made her feel slightly sick. ‘By the bakery.’

‘Not another fight on the street? People will talk, you know.’

Julia couldn’t hold back a smile. ‘No fighting. We kind of said goodbye. He gave me a copy of the local paper.’

Lizzie crinkled her eyebrows. ‘As a going-away present? That’s weird.’

‘Not really. It kind of came up in conversation and he had one and … well … he gave me his copy.’ Julia rubbed her eyes and tried to shake him out of her head. ‘God, I can’t wait to get out of this place and get back to Melbourne. Then I’ll never have to see him again.’

Lizzie played with her napkin and crunched it into a soft ball. When she lifted her eyes, Julia could see the hurt there.

‘Hell, Lizzie, I’ve put my foot in it again, haven’t I?’

‘Jools, I know you don’t mean it, but when you say things like that … well, it hurts. I love it here, you know I always have. You, on the other hand, talk about it like it’s the armpit of the earth.’

Julia stilled. ‘You’re absolutely right. I’m being a total bitch. To everyone. I don’t know why but I can’t seem to stop it.’

Lizzie peered into Julia’s eyes. ‘Jools …’

Julia sighed wearily. ‘I’m tired, I guess.’

Half an hour later, the two women were fed and watered, and Julia felt some of the tension lift. She didn’t want to ruin these last few days with Lizzie. Stella had let them know she couldn’t make lunch after all, and Julia had replied to her text with a simple and heartfelt,
Promise to catch up before I leave. XX
.

A waitress appeared to clear their plates and Lizzie shook her head at the offer of dessert.

‘Jools, I’ve got a brilliant idea. Why don’t you come to the pub tonight? I’ll wait on you hand and foot and you can relax. We don’t have much time left and I want to hang out with you for a little while before you leave. You can sit by the fire and read a book, drink red wine, just … be.’

Julia sighed. ‘That sounds great.’

‘Come by around seven and we’ll have dinner together. Then you can warm your toes while I keep filling your glass with red wine. On the house, of course.’ Lizzie winked. ‘Don’t tell my boss.’

Julia found a sad smile. ‘In that case, lunch is on me. I’ll just go and settle the bill.’

A couple of minutes later, she’d paid for lunch and walked back to the table, where she found Lizzie, staring down at the open newspaper, its inky pages spread over the table.

Lizzie met Julia’s eyes, her mouth gaped open, her eyes wide and serious.

‘What is it?’ Julia asked. ‘Don’t tell me the Middle Point Over-35s netball team has been on the rampage again in Victor Harbor.’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘You’d better sit down, Jools.’ She twisted the pages around with a rustle so Julia could see the headline the right way up. Right across the top of page three, it read:
Abandoned industrial estate to become wetland, housing.
Underneath it was a half-page colour illustration portraying what appeared to be a tree-filled, contemporary development, with homes of all shapes and sized tucked into copses of trees, with a network of waterways ribboned through it. And there, underneath it, right in the body of the story, was a headshot of Ry Blackburn. Smiling, successful, suited and so goddamn sexy.

‘What?’ Julia could hardly get the word out. She sank back into her chair and tried to concentrate on the words on the page.

Adelaide developer Ry Blackburn is expanding his stake in Middle Point by announcing plans for a 500 home eco-housing development on the site of the old industrial estate on the Victor Harbor Road.

Work is expected to begin within months, and will include the creation of a wetland on the site to encourage local endangered wildlife. Mr Blackburn, who owns Blackburn and Son Developments and who recently bought the Middle Point Pub, says this is his first venture outside of the State’s capital.

‘We’re thrilled to be transforming this eyesore into a beautiful, tree-filled wetland with affordable housing for people who are looking for peace, a share of the beautiful uncrowded beaches and fresh air of the coast.

‘We know people have always loved this part of the world, I certainly have, but there has been a shortage of homes for people on limited incomes or for those who want to downsize as they retire.

‘Windswept will not only create beautiful homes for both those groups but will transform this blot on the landscape into something wonderful.’

Lizzie and Julia sat, shoulder to shoulder, poring over the words and the image.

‘Oh my God,’ Julia whispered. She couldn’t believe what she was reading.

They were her words, right there in the article. The words she’d tossed at Ry like grenades.

Peace, the beautiful uncrowded beaches, the fresh air.

The very things that were so important to her were at the heart of Windswept. He’d been trying to tell her something important the night they’d argued on the footpath in front of the pub. She’d accused him of being in it for the money and nothing else, of not caring about Middle Point. She’d rejected him with her cold shoulder and angry words. Words she couldn’t think about now. Couldn’t hear again. She couldn’t believe what she’d said to him.

Who had she become?

Lizzie jabbed the paper, tapping the headline.

‘He’s cleaning up that old Rumbelow place, building homes for people who can’t afford to live here. Look at the picture. He meant what he said. He
is
trying to bring people into the town. Real people. Real people who aren’t all doctors and lawyers.’

Julia gripped the paper until it began to rustle and shake so much the words scrambled like eggs. She let it go and closed her eyes. When she took a heaving breath and opened them, a big plop of a tear plonked onto the newspaper.

Right in the middle of Ry Blackburn’s face.

Stop. Breathe.

The long line of things she’d been trying to outrun, to leave behind, came crashing right into her at that very moment. She had been moving so fast for so long, desperate not to look back, doing anything
not
to be the girl from Middle Point. But being home again, surrounded by dear friends and familiar places and love from the past, by the beach and her childhood home, her old bedroom and her mother’s things, was all too much to hold in.

You can take the girl out of Middle Point but you can’t take the Middle Point out of the girl.
And she could finally see the truth. She was ashamed of where she’d come from. Had left as soon as she could for something better, finding the bright lights and big city of Melbourne and had made her life work there, mostly through gritted teeth and sheer bloody-minded determination. For fifteen years she hadn’t come back, until she’d been forced to, never wanting to slip back to the person she was trying to leave behind.

But there was no escaping it. This place was in her bones. It was part of her DNA. It had made her who she was today. And Julia realised she didn’t have a damn clue who that was anymore.

If she didn’t know herself, there was something she did know for sure. In a blinding flash of clarity, she realised exactly who Ry Blackburn was. He was a decent man. Someone who kept his word. Someone who, it seemed, wanted to create a lasting legacy for the community. She had accused him of being exactly the opposite of all those things.

They didn’t say a word on the short ride home. While Lizzie drove, Julia clutched the newspaper in her hands, staring at the front page. Windswept sounded wonderful. Her parents had moved to the town thirty years before when prices were low and they’d made a good life together. People in their position couldn’t afford to do that now. Ry was opening up her beloved place to others. He was trying to share it with people and all she’d done was try to deny it, run away from it, erase it from her life.

Julia’s head was a jumble of pain, of images and memories and confusion as she unlocked her front door. She moved in slow motion and could go no further than the front windows. She begged the ocean to calm her, to let its soothing rhythmic waves lull her into peace. But nothing came.

All she could hear was Lizzie fussing in the kitchen and the rustle of a plastic shopping bag.

‘Jools, sit down. I’ll make us a coffee. I don’t think you need any more wine.’

Julia walked quietly over to the sofa, sat down and let the racking sobs out. They hurt her ribs and her head, wrenched her gut and grazed her throat. Great, heaving cries for her father. For a young girl who’d said goodbye to her first love and then run away, young and scared out of her wits, to a strange city. For that heartbreak. For every disappointment in her career. For the times she’d been too scared to come home, fearing she would never want to go back to Melbourne.

And, finally, she allowed herself to cry for her mother. Mary Kinsella. Who would never be Mum to her anymore or Nanna to anyone. A sense of aloneness washed over her in a giant, pounding wave and she felt stranded and alone.

Lizzie sat next to her. Dearest Lizzie, who had never judged her and wouldn’t start now, she knew that for sure. She waved a wad of tissues in the air like a bouquet of flowers. ‘Thought you might need these.’

Julia sniffed. ‘Th-thanks.’

‘I hope you’re not crying over the bun. I didn’t eat it, you know, although I was tempted.’ She handed Julia a small white plate.

‘What’s this?’

‘Did you honestly think you could hide this from me by slipping it into the bag with the newspaper? I hope you’re going to share. It looks divine.’

Julia stared down at the dish and what was on it. A chocolate-iced doughnut from the bakery. Ry must have left it in the bag when he’d given her the newspaper.

‘Oh fuck.’ Julia handed the plate back to Lizzie. She couldn’t look at it. The damn iced doughnut had become a symbol of everything she’d screwed up.

‘I’ve well and truly buggered things up, haven’t I, Lizzie?’

‘Yes. That’s why you should eat the doughnut.’

Julia gently pushed the plate away and stood up to pace the room. ‘Can’t you see, Lizzie? I’ve been wrong about everything. Especially about Ry. I didn’t see him for who he really is, until today. I’ve been so caught up in my own shit, in everything else about who I am, who I’ve always wanted to be. Mostly, who I was trying
not
to be.’

‘You had big dreams, Jools.’

‘But why did I have to disown this part of me to achieve them?’ Julia wiped her nose with her sleeve and pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes.

‘I need to apologise to you, Lizzie, for the horrible things I’ve said about Middle Point.’

Lizzie picked up the doughnut and took a huge bite. ‘Consider this a peace offering.’

Julia blew out an angry sigh. ‘What have I done? I said some awful, truly horrible things to Ry. And he didn’t deserve any of it. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.’

Lizzie stopped to look at a chocolaty finger, then regarded Julia inquisitively. ‘Do you want him to forgive you?’

Julia twisted the tissues in her fingers, tighter and tighter. Did she want his forgiveness? Was it that important to her?
Hell yes
.

She nodded vehemently. ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake.’

‘Of course you have. I’ve just been waiting for you to realise it. Can’t you see he’s crazy about you?’

Could it be true? Had she blown her chance with him? Would she have to live with another lifetime of regrets for walking away from Ry a second time?