Nobody but Him (34 page)

‘No, Lizzie. I mean I’m coming
home
. I’ve resigned from my job. I’m leaving Melbourne for good.’

Lizzie’s face held shock, surprise and delight all at once, and more tears appeared. The sight of them made Julia cry too. For the millionth time since she’d been home.

‘
Home
home? Middle Point home?’

Julia nodded. ‘I never thought I’d want to come home to Middle Point but I do now. More than anything. This is my place in the world. I need it and I hope it’ll have me back.’

‘Of course it bloody well will. Congratulations!’ And Lizzie raced around the bar to give Julia the mother of all hugs.

Her friendship with Lizzie filled her up, grounded her, gave her a place in the world and in someone else’s heart. She would always be so proud and humbled to be Lizzie’s best friend.

‘I can’t believe this, Jools.’ Lizzie swiped the tears from her face and then her mouth dropped open. ‘Hang on. What about your mum’s house? Are you still going to sell it?’

‘I am. I have a plan for that.’

‘Of course you do.’

‘But don’t tell Ry. I want to surprise him.’

Lizzie reached out her hand to Julia and extended her little finger. They linked them together.

‘Pinkie swear.’

‘Pinkie swear,’ Julia replied.

At a table just ten feet away, a tall blonde man sat with a face like an Easter Island statue. The words he’d just heard ringing in his ears.

Pregnant. Congratulations. Surprise.

The early morning sun shone down on Middle Point beach from a perfect winter sky. It was almost cloudless, a few faint streaks hung in the distance like a painter’s brushstrokes. Ry stood just a metre away from the lapping water and turned his face east, closing his eyes to the rising sun.

It was good to feel the warmth on his face. He’d spent so much time at the hospital that he’d felt faded and pale, full of air-

conditioned breaths and instant coffee. Hands on hips, he felt the light breeze ruffle his hair and took the time to listen to every wave rumbling towards him.

He felt alive.

Thankfully, blissfully alive. Inhaling deeply, he urged the salty air into his lungs, needing to unravel the knot in his chest that had been tightening up in the days since the accident. He breathed deeply over and over.

And he felt thankful.

Grateful. Lucky.

Five days on, and after having every square inch of his body prodded and probed, a multitude of tests and being examined by possibly every doctor in the hospital, all the signs were positive that Dan would make a full recovery. Of course, the doctors had warned he wouldn’t be playing football anytime soon, and that he would have to endure a slow and painful convalescence, but he
would
recover.

The good news had revived everyone’s spirits. Ry had watched the anguish lift from Bob and Joan’s shoulders as soon they realised he would pull through. He didn’t want to imagine the hell on earth Dan’s parents had suffered. They’d decided to stay for another couple of weeks to organise things for his return home. Barbra, being the kind of mother she was, had swung into action, vowing to fill Dan’s fridge and freezer with enough curries and casseroles to feed the whole McSwaine family. For however long it took and however long they needed her.

Lizzie had stepped up and had the Middle Point pub firmly in hand, for which he’d be eternally grateful. She’d told him that people from nearby towns had read about the accident in the local newspaper and had stopped in as they were driving past to pass on their regards and wishes for a speedy recovery. Such a show of support was incredible and unexpected. Ry still couldn’t quite believe how everyone had rallied around, even though he was still the city boy. He knew they wouldn’t think of him as a local for another twenty years or so.

And then there was Julia.

He knew one thing for sure. Without a doubt, he wouldn’t have made it through the past week without her. When he thought about how good she’d looked half an hour ago when he’d left for his run, a smile knocked him sideways and almost off his feet. She’d been tangled in the sheets, one long leg uncovered, the fabric barely covering her breasts, taunting him with a tease of dark nipple. After he’d tip-toed out of the bedroom and pulled on his running gear, he’d paused at the doorway and looked back, not quite believing that she was actually there. How had it all happened, that they should be together, after everything they’d been through? As he watched her sleep, her beautiful face peaceful and perfect, her soft lips parted, her hair a halo on the white cotton pillow, he wondered who was rolling the dice that meant that she was back in Middle Point, with him.

In his bed, in his arms. In his heart. Exactly where he needed her to be for the rest of his life.

When they’d arrived back in Middle Point the night before, they’d decided to ditch the idea of Julia’s single bed and try out Ry’s king-sized one instead. They’d made love slowly and tenderly, unhurried, taking the time to rediscover every part of each other’s bodies. He hadn’t known before that she squealed when she was tickled behind her knees or that she would writhe in ecstasy and almost come simply with the flick of his tongue on her taut nipple. The sex was hot and still blew his head off, but it felt different now. He’d wanted to make it last, to feel every inch of her come alive under his fingers and his lips before he raised her to a crashing high and then exploding with his own. This time, it hadn’t just been a meeting of bodies, an out-of-control need to have sex with a woman who drove him crazy.

This time, it was a collision of history and hearts. And hope.

Ry took in the view along the beach ahead of him. The waterline ribboned away into the distant haze and he almost had it to himself. The only other people sharing the beach were a couple of lone walkers and a few small dots in the distance that were probably dogs roaming in the surf and the seaweed and barking at the seagulls.

It was Sunday. Julia’s last day in Middle Point. They’d had so little time together and now it was all ticking away in agonising minutes.

Ry raked his hands through his hair and left them there, linking his fingers and stretching up, finally letting himself think about the elephant in the room. What he’d heard the day before.

Pregnant. Congratulations. Surprise.

When she’d joined him and they’d left the pub for home, he’d simply pretended he hadn’t heard a thing. It wasn’t hard to act being tired and a little distracted. He’d barely slept in a week and felt totally wrung out. Julia hadn’t said anything to him about being pregnant. It seemed like too big a conversation to have with her, and he needed space to think, to process the
what the fucks
and the
how the hells
and the
what ifs.

Could she be pregnant? No, that couldn’t be possible. He’d been careful to protect her each time. And would she really know so soon anyway? Ry shook his head as a million questions spun around in circles like the dogs up ahead chasing the gulls. What if she was? Is that what she wanted? Is that what
he
wanted? He sure as hell knew he wanted Julia, but to be a father one day? That was a whole other ball game.

The thought of being a dad himself had him thinking back to his own father, still so much missed. When Ry was a kid, he’d had a wonderful relationship with him. Holidays at the beach and cricket and football in the winter and the best schools. Ry had never wanted for anything, neither material things nor attention. Had he been spoilt? Hell yeah. As only children tend to be. When he’d finished university, aimless, distracted, heartbroken, his father had pulled him into Blackburn Developments, and taught him the business from the ground up. When Ry was twenty-eight, the son had worked hard enough and proven himself enough for ‘Son’ to be added to the name of the company. He’d never seen his father prouder than on that day. Ry swallowed his bitterness at the memory of how limited a time they’d had together as partners in the business. Two years after Blackburn became Blackburn and Son, his father was dead and the company was on life support.

Blackburn and Son.

Would there be a next generation? Christ, kids had never been on his radar. Maybe if he’d been in a serious relationship it might have come up in conversation as the next logical step, but he hadn’t had one of those since his short-lived marriage. Julia, and that mistake, had burned him for anything serious in the years since. He’d filled in the nights, weekends, and then years by dating a string of smart and funny women, none of whom wanted anything more from him than no-strings-attached sex and a good time on the arm of a handsome man at all the best parties in Adelaide. Mutually beneficial but meaningless. And, anyway, in the past five years he’d been working too damned hard anyway to invest his emotional energy in anything more. That whole social arrangement had suited him perfectly.

Until Julia sashayed back into pub and his life.

Having a baby with Julia.

Ry walked along the water line, aimlessly, and an image came to him, out of nowhere but not unwanted. Julia pregnant, with a swelling belly and pink cheeks, her breasts fuller and rounder, her womanly body ripe and lush. Would they have a little baby girl with Julia’s brown curls and pale, soft skin? Or perhaps a little blonde-headed mate he could take surfing. Hell, he could take a girl surfing too.

Ry stared down the beach, over the white sand, dotted with the empty shells of Goolwa cockles and his heart gripped at the image in his head. The two of them, walking on the bright white sand in the summertime, each holding the tiny, trusting hand of a little person, taking their first steps on the beach they loved so much.

He blew out a breath. Tried to decide how he felt about it. Realised the idea didn’t suck. In fact, it made total and complete sense. And then he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. The life he’d been creating for himself in Middle Point was all about having Julia in it.

If she were pregnant he’d be over-the-fucking-moon happy. He didn’t have an answer for how they were going to make it work when they were eight-hundred kilometres apart. They’d just have to figure something out. Because he wasn’t letting her go.

Ry started off in a jog, transitioned into a run then a full-on sprint, not along the long expanse of the beach to Goolwa, but back over the wooden walkway, through the dunes hugged by clumps of seaside daisies, down the esplanade, back home.

To Julia.

Julia was standing in her teenage bedroom, experiencing another déjà vu moment. A million years before, she’d stood in almost the exact spot, squeezing her few worldly possessions into a suitcase in preparation for the trip to Melbourne. Back then; it was some jeans and T-shirts, an old coat her mother had bought at the church charity shop in Port Elliot, sneakers and jumpers. None of it was very fancy and it all flagged her as the small-town girl from Middle Point. None of it was hip enough to fit in with Melbourne’s on-going love affair with retro cool. Her stuff was just retro shabby.

She glanced at all the things laid out on her bed. This time she had her Melbourne clothes, her ugg boots, four old photo albums full of fading colour snaps,
Where the Wild things Are
, her mother’s copy of
Pride and Prejudice
and, crucially,
Tapestry
by Carole King. Julia didn’t even own a record player, but that was going with her. And then there was her mother’s wedding dress, safely packed away in its box, layered with tissue paper, safe.

There wasn’t much else to worry about. She’d sent a lot of her mother’s things to the charity shop and the older items of furniture had gone directly to the local dump. The other things she wanted to keep were tucked away in boxes, wrapped in rumpled newspaper, and securely stored in Lizzie’s shed.

It all came down to this, she realised. A suitcase of memories and regrets — all she would take away with her.

She’d hoped to have done more, but the five days back in the city and at the hospital had meant a whole lot of things she thought she would get finalised before she went home to Melbourne hadn’t been. Kevin Higgins had organised the first open inspection for the weekend after next, so when she locked the door as she left this afternoon and dropped the keys around to Kevin’s office, the house would have to be ready for viewing. It was clean and tidy, and that would have to do.

Julia leaned over her suitcase to flip the lid closed, already knowing that it wasn’t going to zip, so she admitted weary defeat and sank onto her bed next to it. Her heart simply wasn’t in it. She was really leaving this house and all its memories behind. This was her last day to say her final goodbyes to the place she’d grown up in. Goodbye to her father’s memories and her mother’s. A final goodbye to her childhood and everything that had made her who she was.

Julia glanced at her watch, wondered where Ry was. Half an hour before, she’d woken dozily, relishing the warmth of Ry’s bed as she stretched and yawned the sleep away. When she spotted his phone, keys and wallet on his white bedside table, she knew he hadn’t gone far. With a glance to the window, Julia had propped herself up on her elbows to take in the magnificent views out to sea and along the coast. It felt like she was floating right out there over the ocean. How lucky he was to have a view like that. With her eyes full of sky, she’d laid back on the soft sheets, enjoying Ry’s bed, running through every magnificent moment of the night before, including the way he managed to make her come just by saying her name. Well, that wasn’t strictly true but it sure as hell felt like it. The soft pillows enveloped her and she pulled the sheets and blankets over her naked body, self-satisfied and sated. She decided there couldn’t be a better place in the whole world to wake up than this.

Home.

Her mobile trilled, breaking her reverie about the night before. She wasn’t in Ry’s king-sized bed any longer but was sitting on her regulation single, the purple chenille bedspread still a fetching feature. She grabbed her phone before it went through to her message bank.

‘Hey,’ she answered with a shiver. She simply had to think about him and he was there. It wouldn’t be so easy when she was eight-hundred kilometres away. And she was leaving today.