Nobody but Him (36 page)

He’d thought she was pregnant.

If you are, you would make me the happiest man in the whole damn world.

She’d never imagined herself as a mother. Being an only child herself, she didn’t have nieces or nephews to dote on, the very presence of whom might have excited some latent maternal instinct. Did she want a baby? Up until now, the answer had always been a resounding, God no. But there had never been a man worthy enough in her life for it to be even a remote possibility. And she was only thirty-three. There were plenty of years left on the body clock, weren’t there? Ry’s reaction certainly hadn’t been one of shock or revulsion. In fact, there’d been a gleam in his eye and a killer smile he couldn’t hide when he’d spoken of it. Was it something she wanted? Now that she was going to leave this life behind and go home?

As she fell into exhausted sleep, a flicker in her heart gave her the answer.

Ry would have considered himself the luckiest man in the world if he’d never have to walk through the sliding front doors of the Flinders Medical Centre ever again. He’d grown used to stalking the corridors like he was one of the staff but, today, he was relieved at the thought that this would all soon be coming to an end. Dan had been doing so well that he’d been moved into the High Dependency Unit in preparation for the shift to a general ward, which meant that not only was he on the road to recovery, but he was well on the way to getting out of hospital. These were all crucial steps in getting Dan well and Ry was patiently taking them one day at a time. Unlike the patient.

Ry entered the High Dependency Unit carrying a take-away coffee for himself, a new iPod and a stack of men’s health magazines.

He heard Dan before he saw him and laughed to himself. His friend was lying back on the hospital bed, one arm behind his head, his broken leg still elevated inside a wire frame covered with a sheet.

At a glance, he looked like any ordinary patient. There were no more monitors, and the only thing he was attached to was the television remote control. Which explained the swearing.

Ry sauntered over and dumped the magazines and the iPod on the narrow table that straddled the bed. Dan was jabbing at buttons on the remote and cursing the screen.

‘I swear, mate, daytime TV is a form of torture designed to make me want to get the hell out of here as fast as I fucking-well can.’

‘Hello to you too.’ Ry grinned and settled his large frame into the plastic chair by Dan’s bedside. He leaned back, stretched his long legs out in front of him and took a sip of his coffee. Dan looked like his old self, which Ry found hugely reassuring, except for the purple-yellow bruises under his eyes. His face still needed some time to get the life back into it, some decent food to fill out his cheeks again and some sun to shift the pallor of his skin. All that would come. But the return of the attitude? Ry figured that was a good sign.

‘You here to piss me off? It’s working.’

‘What charming bedside manners you have, Danny Boy.’

Dan managed a rueful smile. ‘I need to get out of here. I’m going nuts.’

‘No shit.’ Ry nodded to the table. ‘I got you a new iPod and loaded it with some music. Thought it might help you pass the time in here.’

Dan reached over for the box, and Ry tried not to react when he saw his face contort in pain.

Dan struggled to exhale. ‘Aah, and it’s not even my birthday.’

‘I loaded up some good stuff. You like Justin Bieber, don’t you?’

Dan raised a solitary middle finger before unpacking the device and flicking it on. He scrolled through the music, checking out the songs Ry had chosen. Then he slowly unscrambled the headphones, plugged them in. He fiddled with the device a bit more before speaking.

‘My old one was trashed in the accident.’

Ry sipped his coffee, tried to be casual about the next question. ‘What’s the latest from the cops? Any word on the truck that sideswiped you?’

‘Yeah.’ Dan stilled, his face grew serious. ‘Turns out the driver had a heart attack at the wheel. He wouldn’t have known what was going on. They reckon he was dead before he hit me.’ They sat in silence for a beat. Neither of them needed to say out loud how close Dan had come to dying.

‘Well, that sucks for him. Pretty bloody awful all round really.’

‘Yeah,’ Dan said.

‘So how’re you feeling?’

‘You know. Like I was hit by a truck.’

‘Funny.’

‘Well, it doesn’t hurt so much to cough now so I figure the ribs are healing. I’m not pissing blood anymore so that’s a good sign. But I’ll be stuck with the damn cast for about a month more.’

‘That’ll put a serious dent in the skirt-chasing.’

Dan winced. ‘They won’t be staring at this face anymore. I don’t reckon my nose will ever be the same. I look like a boxer.’

Ry made a point of assessing Dan’s face. ‘You’ve got some interesting bruises going on there but hey, women love a crooked nose. It adds character. Look at Owen Wilson.’

Dan chuckled and then moaned, his hand coming to rest lightly on his ribs. ‘Mate, don’t make me laugh. It still hurts like hell.’ Dan winced and held his breath while he reached over to his metal bedside cabinet. As he pressed a remote, the headrest lifted so he was almost sitting upright.

‘How much longer you gonna be in here? They given you your parole date?’

‘A couple more weeks, maybe. So c’mon, distract me. What’s happening with the business? Where’s Windswept up to? Has it all fallen apart without me?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself. The surveyors have been down at the site this week.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s been raining some. Rains a lot on the south coast in winter, actually.’

‘Fascinating.’

‘People at the pub have been asking after you.’

‘They have?’ Dan looked surprised.

‘The local paper ran a story about the accident.’

‘Shit, I’m a celebrity. Do I get groupies?’ He grinned. ‘What else?’

Ry took another sip of his coffee and grabbed one of the magazines he’d dropped on the table. He flicked open the cover and casually flicked through the pages.

‘Julia went back to Melbourne last Sunday.’

‘I know, you dick. She called me yesterday to see how I was. What the fuck’s going on with her? I’ve been out of it for so long I can’t remember what episode your soap opera is up to.’

‘Soap opera?’ Ry’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Yeah, I know, I’ve been watching too much daytime TV. When are going to see her again?’

‘I’m flying over this weekend. I’m going to surprise her.’

Dan whistled. ‘That’s a pretty pricey booty call.’

‘Fuck you.’ Ry smiled.

Dan’s narrowed eyes and grim expression gave him away. ‘For fuck’s sake, Ry, what are you waiting for?’

Ry felt slightly taken aback at the change in Dan’s tone. The humour had disappeared from his voice and his face. He’d got real serious, real quick.

‘What do you mean? I’ve got some things to sort out at the office and then I’m going over on Saturday morning.’

‘Shit Ry. That’s not what I’m talking about and you fucking well know it. Go get her. Bring her home. What are you waiting for? You love her, right?’

Ry felt the familiar pain in his jaw. ‘I’m waiting for her to decide what she wants.’

‘What she wants? What do
you
want?’

Damn it.
Had he ever told her? Had he let her go back to Melbourne without telling her he wanted her? Without telling her loved her? She’d left on an understanding that it wasn’t over, that they’d see each other when they could. When work didn’t get too crazy. When the rest of their lives didn’t get in the way.
Shit a brick
. That wasn’t what he wanted.

But he couldn’t ask her again to give up everything for him. Could he?

‘You’re a pain in my arse, Danny Boy, you know that?’

‘So the nurses keep telling me.’ Dan flicked open one of the men’s health magazines Ry had dumped there, settling on an article about surfing. They sat in companionable silence for a while.

‘So, how’s Lizzie?’

Ry looked up and noticed Dan’s crooked nose was stuck firmly in the magazine. He thought back to when Dan was semi-conscious and slowly coming out of it. He wondered if he remembered what he’d said. Maybe he did.

‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘She’s great.’

Dan’s face crinkled in confusion and he rubbed his hand over the dark stubble on his chin.

‘Good. You know, I can’t stop thinking about her. Funny thing is, she’s the last thing I remember about … that night. We were in the pub and then it’s all a blank. I haven’t got a clue what we were talking about but I just have this really vivid memory of her face. Her looking right at me.’

‘You do, huh?’

‘I’m sure it’s her. Big blue eyes, right? Like, kewpie doll eyes with that short blonde hair? And red lips …’ Dan’s voice trailed off and he sank back into the pillows.

Ry didn’t want to mess with Dan when he was so clearly trying to remember. Would there be other stuff that would be hazy in his memory too?

‘Blue eyes, blonde surfer girl thing? Yeah, that’s Lizzie.’

Dan stuck his nose back in the magazine. ‘Did she come to visit me, maybe?’

‘Don’t think so, mate. She’s been holding the pub together so I could be here holding your hand.’

Ry checked his watch, knew he had to go. ‘Enjoy the music.’ He nodded at the iPod, leaned over and they gripped hands tightly. Ry did a double take. Was he imagining things or was Dan tearing up? He looked closely at his friends face. Damn it, he was.

‘Hey, Ry, before you go. There’s something I need you to do for me.’

‘Anything, except give you a sponge bath.’

Dan chuckled then winced again.

‘Anything. What do you need?’ Ry waited for Dan’s pain to pass.

‘I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been stuck here. To think about what happened. What almost happened. It’s pretty much been a shit sandwich, mate.’

Ry leaned over the bed and patted Dan’s shoulder like he’d just missed a goal out on the football oval. ‘Yeah.’

‘And I’ve been thinking about Windswept and what we’re doing down at Middle Point. And I’ve realised, while I’ve been trapped here staring at the ceiling, that I want a piece of that kind of life.’

‘You do?’ Ry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was Danny Boy the party animal, who couldn’t bear to be more than ten-minutes’ drive from a nightclub and a group of hot women. Ry was wondering if he was suffering some kind of post-traumatic shock. ‘You want to buy a block on the Windswept Development?’

There was a determination and a gravitas in Dan’s eyes. ‘No, mate, I want to buy Julia’s house.’

‘You want to do
what
?’ Ry looked at his friend as if he’d gone crazy.

‘I’m serious, Ry. I want to buy Julia’s house.’

‘Don’t you think you should wait until you’re at least out of hospital before deciding something like this?’

‘No. I’ve decided. It’s done.’

Ry rubbed a hand over his eyes. Shit, maybe Dan had gone crazy. ‘You sure about this?’

‘Never been more sure of anything in my life. I need to be able to wake up everyday and look out at that beach and that big sky. Can you arrange it?’ Dan looked to his friend with earnest eyes and Ry could see he wasn’t joking. Dan’s physical recovery may have been progressing better than his doctors had hoped, but his emotional recovery was going to be another thing entirely.

If Dan wanted to leave the city and move to the peaceful quietness of Middle Point, Ry wasn’t going to stop him. In fact, he flat-out liked the idea that Dan loved the place as much as he always had.

‘Sure. I’ll ring Julia’s real estate agent today. But after that, I’m stepping back.’ He raised his hands in mock defeat. ‘You two can slug it out.’

‘Don’t worry, mate. I’ll play fair.’

Ry chuckled. ‘It’s not you I’m worried about. Julia can be stubborn as hell.’

By the end of the week Julia had everything organised. She was one week down and one to go. On her first day back at work she’d given her mandatory two weeks’ notice and only had another week of it to serve. She’d been in the office every day, finalising accounts, writing final reports, handing over clients and beginning the festival of farewell lunches with her work colleagues.

That morning, she’d managed a quick breakfast, two cups of very decent coffee and a desultory glance at the Saturday
Age
before using the newspaper for wrapping and packing. A moving van was due to arrive at midday to begin loading her bigger possessions and the few small things that could fit into her car for the nine-hour drive back to Middle Point the next weekend. It was all really happening. One part of her life was ending but another exciting chapter was about to begin, and that new life didn’t need all the accoutrements of the city.

It was a cool Melbourne morning but it wasn’t raining, which was unusual in winter. She’d seen only one of its renowned four seasons in a day and had hoped the weather would hold off so the moving could begin. She turned at the sound of a rumble in the street, checked her watch and skipped down the hallway to throw open the front door, giddy with the thought that this was all really happening.

Two hunky young men were on her doorstep. Tall as mountains with wide shoulders, one had a tattoo of a Celtic symbol on his neck and a shaved head, the other blonde dreadlocks and a pierced eyebrow. She smiled to herself. She would definitely miss Melbourne’s wildlife.

‘Ma’am? Are you Julia Jones?’ The taller of the two smiled politely.

Julia stepped back and opened the door wide. ‘C’mon in, boys, you’ve got some work to do.’

Two hours later, the guys were halfway through the job. Julia’s bedroom and spare room were empty and most of the smaller boxes had been trolleyed out to the truck to squeeze in around the furniture. They packed carefully, fitting boxes and items together into an intricate jigsaw puzzle and Julia was reassured that her things would arrive in Middle Point in one piece.

With every box that disappeared out her front door, Julia felt a new wave of happiness wash over her at the prospect of her new life. Well, maybe it was her old life. Or a new life in her old home. She giggled at the confusion of it and the certainty she felt about her decision.