A Child in Need (14 page)

Any minute now he'd put his blasted tie back on!

But Louise had regained her composure and was unabashed. She gave Shanni a cheeky grin. ‘McDonald match-making, of course,' she said blithely. ‘Plus Mary thought you needed to get away, Shanni, and we thought you three might have fun. Did you?'

‘Yes, but…'

‘There you go, then.' All was right in Louise's world and she had no intention of letting a guilty conscience get in the way of her joy. She beamed at the three of them. ‘Should Alastair ask Nick to be a groomsman to match you as my bridesmaid?'

‘No,' Shanni said, revolted. ‘Louise, don't be stupid.'

But Louise was incorrigible. ‘Am I being stupid, Nick?' she demanded, and peeped a smile at him. Nick managed a smile back as he lifted Harry into his arms and prepared to carry him out to the car park.

‘I don't think I'm groomsman material,' he said shortly.

‘How about groom itself?'

‘Louise, butt
out
!' Shanni was practically speechless with mortification. Her family was impossible…

‘I guess I'm not that either,' Nick told her, and he gave Shanni a smile that was as impersonal as it was gorgeous. It was a smile that said the world was to be greeted with friendliness but held at arm's length.

‘Goodbye, Shanni,' he said. ‘Enjoy the party. Harry and I need to go. We'll see you around.'

We'll see you around…
The words echoed forlornly around the empty railway station and even Louise's smile faded.

‘Shanni, I'll be at kindergarten tomorrow,' Harry said urgently from his safe haven of Nick's arms. He was trying to keep his precious link with the two of them for as long as possible. ‘And don't forget Tim Meerkat's birthday.'

‘I won't forget,' Shanni said, and she gave Harry a hug—and Nick was sort of included somewhere in the hug because, after all, he was holding Harry. ‘Tim's a part of our family. We've adopted him—so how can we possibly forget?'

But Nick said nothing. Shanni gave him one long, searching look as her heart sank still further—and then she turned and followed her sister.

Because Nick's face told her she wasn't welcome to follow him.

 

He was nuts.

Nick settled Harry back with Wendy, promised him he'd
visit on Tuesday night and again on Thursday, left him excitedly telling Wendy all about his new friend, Tim Meerkat, and then tried to drive home.

He couldn't. He physically couldn't turn the wheels of his car toward the courthouse.

Shanni was with her family, and there was a huge part of him that wanted to be right there. Part of the McDonald clan.

Part of a family.

But if he took this next step then he knew he couldn't walk away. As he could no longer walk away from Harry.

Shanni…

The car slowed. He'd been automatically steering toward the farm, but now he turned off onto the coast road. Neither way, then. Not home and not to Shanni.

This was tearing him in two, he thought bitterly—to separate from Shanni now—but how could he take this next step?

It scared him stupid.

He couldn't just leave it there, he knew. Her face at the railway station had been shocked into stillness. She'd taken it without flinching, but he knew he'd hurt her.

Of course you've hurt her, he told himself savagely. You made love to her. And now…now she needs commitment. She deserves nothing less.

As she was committed.

She'd let him take her to him, he thought—she'd let him love her, and all the love in the world had been written clearly in her eyes. Sure, she'd said she didn't intend him to take things further, but Nick was no fool, and somehow he knew her as he knew himself.

Or maybe more so. Maybe he couldn't know himself as he knew Shanni, and that was one of the reasons he loved her. Shanni had no ghosts in her past to rise and haunt him.
No shadows that screamed
Keep your distance
—commitment was a thing to be feared at all costs.

So he steered his car onto the headland and sat for hours staring straight out to sea—and staring right within himself, searching deeper than he'd ever looked before.

If he let himself take the love Shanni had to offer…

He'd be taking and taking and taking, he told himself bitterly. What could he offer a girl like this? He had no family, he had no deep well of love; he had only his own insecurities and needs.

And one of those needs—cultivated from the time he'd been able to recognise any world at all—was the need to hold himself apart.

If he drove out to the McDonalds' home now, he'd be welcomed with open arms, he knew, and he also knew he'd feel so claustrophobic he'd want to run. Because they'd expect things of him. Expect him to open his heart as Shanni had opened hers.

No!

He'd hurt her already, he told himself. Hurt her maybe unforgivably. But if he didn't intend to take this loving further, then the time to move on was right now.

But… Dear heaven, he had to tell her.

 

‘Shanni.'

The hubbub was fading. Her family were still in party mode, but Louise and Mary were talking bridal plans, the men were out on the verandah talking ‘men's talk'—or getting away from talk of veils and guest lists—and the younger McDonalds were drifting reluctantly toward bed. Shanni was inclined to join them. Her mother had been eyeing her with concern for a good while now, but Shanni had deflected her nicely. Sort of.

She knew her mother couldn't be deflected for ever.

‘Shanni…'
It was fifteen-year-old Hatty calling from the
hall. ‘It's your gorgeous magistrate on the phone,' she yelled, and the remaining hubbub died immediately.

All eyes flew to Shanni.

Her colour mounted. Drat her family. Drat them all… Nick must have heard that yell—he could have heard it in the next county at the level Hatty yelled.

It's your gorgeous magistrate on the phone…

There was nothing for it. With the eyes of her entire family following her, Shanni went to talk to her gorgeous magistrate.

‘Shanni…'

And as soon as she heard his voice she knew what he intended saying. She'd known it from the railway station but until this minute she'd hoped…she'd sort of hoped…

She'd desperately hoped!

‘Nick…'

‘Shanni, I'm sorry…'

She turned her back to the kitchen, blocking her family out entirely. ‘Nick, can we talk? Privately?' It was an urgent plea but she knew already what he'd say.

‘There's no point.'

‘Nick…'

‘I've behaved like a rat,' he said heavily. ‘I should never have let you come near me. To just…take you…'

‘We both wanted it,' she said steadily. ‘I wanted it as much as you.'

‘I can't take this any further,' he told her, and Shanni heard the pain in his voice and she wanted to slam the receiver down before the words were uttered. She knew what he was going to say, but she couldn't stop him. And here it came.

‘You're a wonderful woman,' he said softly. ‘Magic. Shanni, you deserve better than me.'

‘You don't think I could be the judge of that?' She was
fighting with everything she had. There was no room for pride here. There was only her love.

‘Shanni, I've been alone for a long time now.'

‘Too long.'

‘Maybe. But…it's what I'm accustomed to.'

‘But not because it's what you want. You're afraid to be anything else.'

‘Yes,' he said honestly. ‘That's the truth, Shanni. But that's who I am.'

‘You won't walk away from Harry?' Her voice rose, fear flooding through for the child, and when he answered she sagged against the passage wall in some sort of relief.

‘No, Shanni. I won't do that. While Harry needs me I'll be there for him.'

‘And…if I need you?' She tried so hard to keep her voice strong—but there was raw pain coming through and Nick must have heard it. His breath was raw with jagged need—a need he couldn't acknowledge even to himself.

‘I…I don't think you can,' he said at last. ‘I think…needing me is really, really stupid thing. Because there's nothing I can give.'

 

And, after that, there was nothing more to do than to get on with their lives.

Apart.

N
ICK
spent the next four weeks throwing himself into work as he'd never worked in his life before.

He rearranged the courthouse. He set up a new filing system. He put in a new computer and sat up until after midnight every night entering data as if it was vital the thing was up and running a week ago last Friday.

He ignored the mayoral ball and suffered the consequences—especially since at least twelve people told him that Shanni had been there and had looked lovely and had danced all night….

His court cases became protracted. He didn't miss a legal point and the local lawyers and police sighed and cut back their lunch-breaks and wondered how long this could last.

‘Because you might want to drive yourself to an early grave but I don't see why you should take the rest of us with you,' Mary said darkly. ‘Just because you've messed up your love life…'

‘I have not messed up my love life,' Nick retorted, throwing his gown aside after a torrid little traffic case that he'd managed to stretch out to two hours of court time. ‘You know nothing of my personal life and that's the way I like it.'

‘That's the way you like it? Ha!'

‘You don't know…'

‘Hey, I'm a sister to the other side of the equation,' she told him. ‘I can see both sides. So I see you trying to fill every available minute with work and I see Shanni going around with dark shadows under her eyes like she hasn't slept for a week.'

Ouch. That hurt.

It couldn't matter. She'd just have to get over it, Nick told himself savagely, and she seemed to be trying hard enough. And it was better to hurt her now than later as he tried to mould himself into something he could never be.

A family man.

‘You love her, you know,' Mary said conversationally, watching his face. ‘Why not give in and admit it?'

He had. That was just the problem. He'd admitted that fact to himself and then some. He did love her, and if he didn't love her he wouldn't be so darned scared of hurting her.

And he wouldn't know how much she deserved someone better.

There was still Harry.

Harry was his saving grace—his time of peace. With Harry, he'd made his commitment. He was forced to spend time with him—forced to take every evening he could and head to Wendy's to read him a bedtime story, or take him to the beach after work, or walk along the cliff tops, hand in hand, a peaceful silence between them.

It was a weird relationship. Nick knew Wendy was watching it with satisfaction and it perturbed him—he felt her expectations of him were unjustified—but Harry took him at face value and asked nothing more than that he'd be there for him.

He was content to give that much, and the less Harry asked of him, the more he found he was prepared to give. As the weeks wore on, he found himself automatically walking down to the children's home each evening—because Harry's face would light up when he saw him. If he didn't arrive, there was no recrimination the next night, but Harry's pleasure was intensified.

And so was the pleasure for Nick. To his astonishment he found himself thinking about the little boy during the
day—figuring out what they could do that evening—wandering past the book store, hesitating and then going in to choose a story…

Different stuff. Not like Nick Daniels at all…

It helped fill the ache left by Shanni. The ache of knowing what he was missing.

But it didn't fill it completely. Nothing could fill that void, but he was accepting that the darkness of his void was there for ever.

‘You've achieved a miracle.'

It was four weeks after the Melbourne trip. Four weeks after Shanni… Nick had finished reading Harry his bedtime story and had emerged to find Wendy alone. For once she wasn't surrounded by children. She motioned to the coffee pot, waited until he was settled and then repeated herself.

‘What you've done for Harry, Nick…well, it is like a miracle.'

‘I've done nothing.'

‘Nonsense. You've given him a friend.'

‘He's been one to me.' It was true, and it gave Nick a shock to hear himself say it. A friend…

He wasn't into friends. Or…not friends like Harry. Not friends he loved.

‘Then maybe Harry's done as much for you as you have for him,' Wendy said gently, and watched his face.

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘I mean…until now you've been as solitary as Harry. You don't need to be, you know. It's simply a matter of letting go. Releasing a part of you and trusting it to someone you love.'

And suddenly they weren't talking about Harry.

Or maybe they were. The feelings she was talking of… It was crazy. Entrusting part of him to Harry… He'd never do that.

But as he sat there, with Wendy's calm eyes resting on
him, making him think, he knew suddenly that he was wrong to believe he could never do it. Because…somehow he'd done it already. He'd given a part of himself to a child.

The thought was like a lightning bolt. Until now he hadn't been involved at all. Not one whit. He'd so carefully cut himself free of all ties, but now, with Harry, he was involved, whether he liked it or not.

And with Shanni…

It was fear, he thought suddenly. That was what was driving him. Up until now he'd figured it was consideration for Shanni that was hauling him back—worry that he'd hurt her more than he had already. Maybe it was—partly—but it was more than that.

If he took the next step to loving and something happened…

He wasn't ready. He was scared.

‘Hey, Nick.' Wendy's hand came over his, warm and reassuring. ‘There's no need to have angst over this. Take this one step at a time. You've given Harry so much. Don't push yourself.'

‘Shanni…'

‘I guess Shanni knows you need space,' she said gently. ‘And maybe she's prepared to wait.'

He shook his head. ‘That's stupid. I'm not…'

‘Not ready to talk about it? That's fine by me.' She lifted his empty mug from his hands and moved across to the sink. And then her shoulders stiffened, as if she was bracing herself for something unpleasant. ‘But we do need to talk about Harry.'

‘Harry?' He stared. ‘Why?'

‘We think he's ready for fostering.'

‘Fostering?'

‘He can't stay here long-term,' Wendy told him, turning back to face him, trouble in her eyes. ‘This is a temporary refuge for troubled and orphaned kids. It's not a stable
home and that's what Harry desperately needs. He's been here too long already.' She sat again, facing him with eyes that were suddenly sad. It was as if she knew that Nick's need was almost as great as Harry's, but the little boy must come first.

‘We have a couple who are willing to take Harry on as a long-term foster-child,' she told him gently. ‘Maybe they'll even adopt him if it turns out okay. Normally if a child is available for adoption we like to do it straight away, but in Harry's case we've hesitated. As you know, we didn't consider him ready. But now…'

‘Yes?' Why was his world suddenly bleak.

‘We're still not sure if he'll handle adoption. We suspect he won't, straight off. He distrusts the world, and he needs space. But he trusts you now, he trusts you totally, and if you were to keep the link…'

‘How do you mean?'

‘I mean, if we move him to local foster-parents and you keep visiting…then slowly back off. Not so much as he'll notice straight away, but just gradually cut back…so that in two years when you return to the city he's not bereft. He'll have parents by then, and hopefully they'll have taken your place and more.'

‘It sounds good to me,' Nick said, trying to keep his voice light. Trying really hard…

Because it didn't sound good at all. His void was becoming a sickening chasm of emptiness.

‘A few weeks ago I'd practically given up on this happening,' Wendy told him. ‘I can't believe the change you've wrought. But now he's content and he's socialising and Harry's social worker believes we need to move fast before he becomes too established. Too fond of me.'

‘And of me?' Nick's eyes met hers, steady and questioning, and Wendy nodded.

‘Yes.'

‘And…is it supposed to hurt?' He closed his eyes. He couldn't believe the pain. ‘Does it hurt you?'

‘That's what my job is,' she said, striving for lightness. ‘I'm accustomed to this. Take them in, love them to bits while they're here, but then launch them out to their own families.' She smiled. ‘I'm accustomed now. Almost. And I have the rest of the kids to worry about. For you, though…'

‘I don't need anyone else.'

‘No?' She smiled and cocked an eyebrow and he knew she didn't believe him.

Change the subject. It was the only thing he could do. ‘When will this happen?'

‘As soon as possible,' she said heavily. ‘Maybe Monday. Tomorrow's Sunday. I'll talk him through it and…'

‘If he objects?'

‘He's three years old,' Wendy told him. ‘We don't give him a choice. I know, at the moment, Harry wants to stay in this place—with you and with me—but we're not his long-term parents, Nick. So we need to stand aside now and let those who can love do their best.'

It was the right thing—the sensible decision—a path that would give Harry a chance at this lottery called life.

Just…why did it feel so darned bleak? And, going out, Nick met Shanni coming in.

She stopped dead at the gate as he walked out through the door. Her smile slipped and then was carefully repinned.

‘Nick,' she said, smiling again, and there might well have been nothing between them at all. If he hadn't seen that tiny slip… ‘You've been visiting Harry?'

‘Yes. Of course. I promised.'

‘Great.' It was almost sarcastic, and the pain in her voice made him flinch. She stood aside so he could pass, and he
should have kept right on going. Instead he paused. He couldn't help himself.

‘Harry's asleep,' he said, and he sounded inane, even to himself.

‘I'm not here to see Harry,' she told him. ‘Wendy's my friend, and it's Wendy I've come to see. She's upset.'

‘Upset?' He frowned. He hadn't seen it. ‘Why?'

‘You're not stupid, Nick. Because of losing Harry, of course.'

His frown deepened. ‘I don't understand.'

‘She's told you about the arrangements for fostering?'

‘Yes, but I thought… She's happy with the arrangements. It's the right thing.'

‘You don't think she'll miss Harry? After almost a year of trying to get through to him?'

‘I thought…'

‘That she's tough? Don't you believe it. She bleeds just like the rest of us.'

‘This is her job, Shanni.'

‘Yes.' Shanni nodded, her eyes bleak. ‘It is, but there's not many who could do it. Wendy gives and gives some more. She takes in children, battered and bruised and from all sorts of backgrounds, she loves them, she fights to get through to them, and then, when she sees they're on their way to healing—when they're just at the point where they can love her—she sends them off to long-term carers. She sends them away.'

He thought this one through and saw it. Saw Wendy's need for the first time, instead of just his own. ‘I guess it must hurt at that. So…why does she do it?' he asked slowly. ‘Open herself to hurt like that?'

‘She has courage.' Shanni's voice tried to be light but it didn't quite come off. ‘She knows she's the only chance these kids have of finding love. By hurting herself she gives them that hope.'

‘I hadn't seen…'

‘No,' she said bleakly, and for the first time she allowed her own hurt to show. ‘You don't see, do you, Nick? You don't see there are others in the world who are just as fearful as you—but who have the courage to open themselves to love.'

‘I…'

‘Goodnight, Nick. Leave others to care. You just look after yourself!'

 

And how could he sleep after that?

Nick spent the night staring at the ceiling and thinking of every option under the sun. And, as dawn came, he knew what he must do.

He wasn't one of these people who could love and risk losing all. He had no place here. Shanni had been right when she'd implied he had no courage. He didn't. He was a coward and he knew it.

So…there was nothing for it but to stop hurting people and get back to the city where he belonged.

Forget the ambition. It wasn't so important any more. Maybe facelessness and solitude were more important than a position as high-court judge.

But Harry still needed him.

So he'd come at the weekends to visit Harry while he was needed, he told himself. That was all. On Monday he'd hand in his resignation. He'd give a month's notice and he was out of here.

For good!

 

His intention stayed with him for all of the next morning. He stayed inside and tried to focus on legal journals but the pages danced before his eyes, meaningless and empty.

Wendy would be telling Harry about his new family, he
thought. Maybe his new mum and dad would be visiting. How would he be taking it?

Who could know what the little boy would make of it? Wendy, though…Wendy would be hurting.

And somewhere Shanni would be aching for all of them. Enfolding them all in her huge heart and taking their pain into her. The three of them whirled through his thoughts and gave him no peace.

Harry. Wendy.

Shanni…

He was going nuts!

He was leaving.

 

That afternoon he walked for miles, but it didn't help one bit. When he got back, the answering machine told him he had messages waiting, and the phone rang again as he walked in the door. For some reason, as he lifted the receiver, he had a sudden lurch of dread….