The Patterson Girls (54 page)

No!
The air whooshed from Charlie's lungs. He had to be making it up.

‘It's not true. You're lying. Mum would never have cheated on Dad,' Charlie all but spat at Rick. Her body shook. It was ridiculous. It didn't compute. They'd had the perfect marriage.

Mitch swore but somehow he sounded far away. ‘What are you saying, Dad? When was this?'

‘It was twenty-nine years ago,' Rick confessed. ‘Therese was pregnant with you, Mitch, and threatening to leave me—take Macca and never let me see either of you. You know what she was like. Both Annette and I were feeling low and we … It was a mistake. It doesn't mean she didn't love Brian. Lord knows she did.'

Charlie squeezed her lips together. She'd heard enough. There was no excuse for infidelity.

‘I don't need to hear excuses,' Mitch growled. ‘Are you telling us … Charlie might be yours?'

Tingles prickled her skin at Mitch's choked words and they weren't the good kind.

Rick nodded. ‘I promise, it only happened once. We both regretted it immediately. It was a mistake. We didn't want to hurt Brian or Theresa, but yes, we always knew there was a possibility, a very tiny one, that I was Charlie's biological father.'

Charlie snapped. ‘You never thought to find out?'

Mitch glared at her. ‘Charlie, calm down.' And then he turned back to Rick. ‘Seriously, Dad, you never checked?'

‘Don't tell me to calm down!' Charlie leapt off the bed and started pacing the room, her hands tearing through her hair. This was … this was … this was
wrong
, on so many levels.

‘We decided not to,' she heard Rick say. ‘If it was the case—if Charlie was my daughter—it would have destroyed your father, and Therese. And neither of us wanted to do that. We were just good friends who overstepped the boundaries. Just once.'

Mitch didn't say anything but the colour had bled from his face.

‘Maybe we were wrong, but I convinced myself that the chances of you being my daughter were very slim. I still think they are but—'

‘
Maybe?
What is
wrong
with people?' Charlie turned on Rick, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say, but then a thought struck and she froze. ‘Hang on. What about blood types? Mum was O and Dad is A. I know because at one stage in high school Madeleine was obsessed with genetics and made all of us learn the basics. Anyway, I'm an A, so—'

‘I'm an A too, Charlie,' Rick said gravely. ‘You could be mine or Brian's.'

As his devastating words sunk in, Charlie stared at Rick, scrutinising him for clues. Any part of him that might resemble her. But while she couldn't see herself in his eyes or anything like that, a sinking feeling settled in her gut. This made terrifying, heartbreaking sense.

Was this why she'd always felt like the odd one out amongst her sisters? Why they all had light coloured hair like their parents and she was a brunette? Like Rick McDonald. Was this why she and Mitch got along so well? Until recently, she'd always joked that he was like a brother to her … Maybe that wasn't so funny. Rick warning her off at the St Patrick's Day party suddenly made sickening sense.

Feeling as if she might vomit up the contents of her breakfast, she placed her hand on her stomach but it offered none of the comfort it had only an hour ago.

Angry tears welled in her eyes.

And if she wasn't really a Patterson, maybe the damn curse did exist. So much for her being the family saviour. It looked like she might be the one to tear it apart. What would this do to her dad? Or rather to Brian—who knew if he was anything more to her than the fool who'd brought up another man's child? She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart feeling ripped in two at the thought of how he would feel when he found out about this.

Even if he wasn't her biological father, she loved him and couldn't stand to be the one to break his heart.

‘Charlie.' She felt Mitch's hand on her arm, but she flung it off, not willing to allow herself to seek comfort from him.

‘What?' She glared at him, knowing this wasn't his fault but unable to help herself.

‘We should take some time to calm down and then work out if we want to do anything about this.'

‘
If?!
Are you suggesting we just continue on as we were? Pretending life is fine and dandy and I might not be having a baby with—'

‘No.' He shook his head, angrily ran a hand through his thick mop of scruffy dark hair. ‘Fuck, I didn't mean that. I just meant we can't think straight right now, we need time.'

‘Mitchell, I'm not going to be able to think straight until we know the truth. And we don't have much time. If this baby is …' She gestured to her still-flat stomach. ‘If we are, you know, I can't have it.'

Mitch's face fell and his shoulders slumped. He looked utterly broken, as if someone had just thrown a bomb into his world. Half of her wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him, to tell him everything was going to be fine, but she couldn't … because maybe it wasn't going to be.

‘Is everything okay in here?'

Charlie and Mitch spun to face the door to see one of the nurses standing in the doorway. She wore a crease-free white uniform and her hair was tied back in a high, neat ponytail. She raised an immaculately preened eyebrow as if annoyed they were disturbing her perfect world.

‘Fine,' Mitch barked. ‘We'll be going soon.'

‘Good. I don't want Mr McDonald getting overtired.' She smiled, but it felt like a warning as she turned on her heels and marched back out.

No one said anything until the sounds of her shoes click-clacking along the corridor faded. Then, Rick spoke again. ‘I'm sorry. I can't change the past. God knows I would if I could. But what's done is done. The question is, what are we going to do about it?'

‘Paternity testing?' Mitch said, gazing out the window rather than at either of them.

‘It was only a relatively new thing when Annette was pregnant with you,' Rick volunteered. ‘I suggested it but the accuracy was only eighty percent or something and she said it was better if we didn't know. Better if we forgot about it.'

Charlie shook her head, quietly seething. Mum was lucky that bee had stung her because if she'd been alive when Charlie found this out, she'd have wished she wasn't.

‘But,' continued Rick, ‘I'm sure the tests are more accurate now.'

‘I'll ask Madeleine about it,' Charlie said, finally starting to think straight. ‘She'll know what to do, where to go.'

‘You're not going to tell your father, are you?' Rick sounded worried. ‘Annette wouldn't want that.'

‘Not yet, but that doesn't mean I won't. He deserves to know what you did.'
What Mum did
, she silently added.

But no. She'd do her best to keep a cheerful face around Dad, to pretend she was overjoyed about the baby, and would worry about what to tell him when they had facts. She could barely bring herself to look at Mitch now, never mind her possible biological father, so she said, ‘I'll be in touch,' and stalked out of the room.

Mitch caught up with her seconds later. He didn't take her hand as he had on the way in, and neither of them were smiling anymore. In the course of a few hours, they'd experienced the biggest high of their lives and then the greatest low. The visit to Aunt Mags was obviously off the agenda, just as—
Fuck
—the curse was back on.

They climbed into the ute in silence and neither of them said anything until they were heading back along the Eyre Highway.

‘It might be okay,' Mitch said, slowly rapping his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘He said it only happened once. The odds are Brian is your father.'

His optimism had always attracted her but right now it only grated on her nerves. Couldn't he see that she was more like him than any of her so-called sisters?

‘We don't know that,' she snapped. ‘I can't believe your dad came round to the motel when my dad wasn't around. I bet he planned to seduce her. It makes me sick.'

‘Hey.' Mitch took his eyes off the road a second to glare at her. His nostrils flared. ‘It takes two to tango. And besides, Annette's the one who wanted the secret kept all these years.'

‘Don't yell at me. This isn't my fault.'

‘It's not mine either!'

Charlie jumped at the fury in Mitch's voice. They rarely disagreed and barely argued about anything. Although she'd occasionally heard him raise his voice to someone on the footy field or in the pub, she struggled to remember a time he'd ever spoken to her like that. Then again, she'd never shouted at him either.

Silence reigned for a few long moments and then Mitch sighed. ‘I'm sorry. I know this is an awful thing we have to face, but it's not going to do any good yelling at each other.'

‘I know,' she whispered, shivering.

But she just felt so utterly helpless and alone. And sad. Whatever the truth, the knowledge that her mother had betrayed her dad made her feel very, very sad.

Chapter Forty-eight

And I thought scenes like that only happened in the movies.

Madeleine smiled at the romantic reunion happening before her eyes. Nigel seemed like a good guy and he had to really love Abigail to have travelled around the world to tell her. Feeling bittersweet—happy for Abigail and Charlie, but wondering if she'd ever get her own happy ending—she quietly retreated from the lounge room and headed down the hallway to check on Lucinda. Although Luce had put on a brave face and declared herself fine with Charlie's unexpected pregnancy, she had to be finding this difficult. Hell, Madeleine had only been trying to get pregnant for a few months and it felt like a slap in the face that Charlie had achieved it accidentally.

She knocked lightly on Lucinda's bedroom door. There was no answer. Worried, she twisted the handle and pushed it open to find Lucinda sitting on her bed, talking on her mobile phone. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Lucinda was so caught up in whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying that she didn't appear to notice her at all. Madeleine didn't know whether to let her sister know she was there or to sneak away unseen. Guessing she was talking to Joe, she chose the latter option. Whatever they were saying, the fact that they were talking at all was a good thing.

It was just after midday but jet lag had messed with her body clock so she wasn't yet hungry. Feeling at a loose end and not wanting to disturb the reunited lovebirds, who now looked to be checking out each other's tonsils on the couch, Madeleine donned her sneakers and then snuck past to go outside. It was a beautiful late autumn day—neither hot nor cold—perfect running weather. She ran through the main street of town, deserted because it was a Sunday and nothing opened in Meadow Brook on Sundays, and then headed out towards the bush.

Without thinking she found herself jogging past Wacky Wanda's house. She slowed, chuckling at the recollection of what had happened six months ago with Abigail. Although they now knew the curse was ridiculous, Madeleine had to admit that Wanda's witch-like appearance and her overgrown garden dotted with scruffy cats certainly fit with what Mags had told them about the curse. Their imaginations had run away with them and stories they remembered from the schoolyard had compounded their fears.

Shaking her head, she was about to continue on when she heard a screen door open and shut. She looked past the cats and the garden onto the derelict porch to see the old woman standing there surveying her kingdom. Something tugged inside her and she paused.

If Mags were right and Wanda's mother was of James Patterson's generation, then she must be in her nineties. When most women of her age were being taken care of by families or nursing homes, she was alone and fending for herself. Saddened by this thought, Madeleine lifted her hand and waved at the woman on the porch. For a few long moments Wanda simply stood there, staring, but then she lifted her arm and waved back.

That was all the encouragement Madeleine needed to take the few steps to the gate. She stopped there, not wanting to scare the elderly woman, unsure what she intended to do but wanting to make some kind of contact.

‘Hi,' she called, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. ‘Lovely day, isn't it?'

Wanda slowly descended the steps, stooping to pick up a cat before continuing down the cracked garden path. Madeleine fought the urge to rush in and assist her because she guessed she was used to being independent.

She stopped a few feet before the gate and looked at Madeleine with an expression half confused, half intrigued. ‘I don't get many visitors out this way,' she said eventually.

‘I don't know why.' Madeleine smiled. ‘It's beautiful out here away from the highway. Have you lived here long?'

Wanda cocked her head to one side and gave her a knowing look. ‘I recognise you. You're a Meadow Brook girl from way back. I think you know I've been here forever.'

Was she referring to the crazy stories about her? Did Wanda know what people said? Up close she wasn't half as scary-looking as Madeleine remembered. She wanted to ask her if she knew about the curse, but decided against it. Out here, with the sun shining down, it all seemed so tenuous.

It was codswallop like Mum had said—and what good would raising the question do anyway?

So she smiled instead. ‘You amaze me, living out here by yourself. You're a real pioneer, an inspiration.'

Wanda snorted but her eyes sparkled. ‘And who are you, my dear?'

‘My name is Madeleine. Madeleine Patterson.' She finally held out her hand, wondering if Wanda would accept the gesture or even if she would recognise the Patterson name. She wanted to talk more, to offer support if the old woman needed it.

Wanda put down the cat and tottered forward, finally stretching out her own hand and placing it inside Madeleine's. It was cold and her skin felt papery thin. ‘I'm Lorraine. And it's lovely to meet you.'