A Child in Need (8 page)

‘Three more sleeps—and then you'll come?' He was looking straight at Nick, his eyes searching for the truth.

‘I…yes.'

‘Would you like to tuck him back into bed?' Wendy asked gently, and proffered the small body toward Nick

Nick froze.

But they were all looking at him. Wendy. Harry. And Shanni. He was on some sort of fence, he thought. One way was safety—the way he knew. The other—the other was the unknown, and the unknown scared the life out of him.

But still they looked at him, and Harry's eyes said he expected nothing. Life had slapped him once too often to believe in happy endings. And he couldn't bear it.

‘Okay, kid,' Nick said resignedly, and rose and accepted Harry from Wendy's arms. Harry's arms swept around his neck and clung. ‘Where's your bed? Show me.'

 

‘He's gorgeous.'

‘You said that about John.' Shanni poured herself more coffee and sank down opposite her friend.

‘I lied. John's a meat-head. Pleasant, kind, but a bit…you know—the lights are on but no one's home.'

‘And this guy?'

‘The lights are off and the door's locked but he's home all right,' Wendy said. ‘He's all in there but he's not letting it show. He's running scared.'

‘I'm not exactly chasing him.' Shanni sighed. ‘Heck, the last thing I want is emotional entanglement. Especially not with some smart-alec city lawyer.'

‘Just one step at a time,' Wendy said gently. ‘Just concentrate on Harry. But if you can kill two birds with one stone…'

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘I mean that man in there has been badly hurt in the past,' Wendy said sternly. ‘It stands out a mile. In my profession you know the look, and you can see it as well as me. I reckon our magistrate needs Harry as much as Harry needs him.'

‘I hope you're right.' Shanni looked dubiously at her friend. ‘And I hope he sees it.'

 

‘I know I'm right,' Wendy said to herself later as she closed her door on the pair of them. ‘I also think there are more needs here than Harry's—and I hope you're both wise enough to see it.'

 

Shanni intended walking.

Nick expected Shanni's car to be with his, but there was only his sports car parked outside.

‘Mum dropped me off here,' Shanni told him. ‘My car's got a cracked head, or something ghastly, and may be on its way to the car graveyard as we speak. The mechanics
just shake their heads and groan every time I ask. So Mum drove me to the pictures, but I wanted to check on Harry afterwards. I'm walking home.'

‘Where's home?'

‘A mile or so thataway.'

‘A mile!' Nick looked out into the dark in the direction she was pointing. They were on the outskirts of town, and the road she was pointing to led northwards, into the dark ‘You can't do that!'

‘Hey, this is Bay Beach,' she said, laughing. ‘You don't get mugged in Bay Beach.'

‘There are weirdos everywhere. Does your mother know you intend walking?'

‘I told her I'd call a cab,' Shanni admitted. ‘But I want to walk. I need to think.'

‘You don't walk.'

‘I'm a big girl now.'

‘And I'm a criminal lawyer. A magistrate. I know what's out there.'

‘Oh, scare me stupid, why don't you?' She shook her head, half-laughing, half-nervous. ‘Cut it out.'

‘Get in the car, Shanni,' he said heavily. He'd seen too much in this job to let anyone take stupid risks. Especially Shanni! ‘Do your thinking when you're safe in your own bed. I'm taking you home.'

‘I don't…'

‘Shanni, please…'

She stared at him for a long moment, hearing the trace of fear in his voice—and then she silently climbed into his car.

She didn't know this man at all, she thought.

And she was almost fearful of the sensation.

 

Shanni's family farm was set back from the road, between the main road and the coast. The country was moonlit, and
Nick could see that it was magnificent—rolling hills, vast gum trees, and cattle standing peacefully in the moonlight.

‘It's lovely,' he said, and she cast him a wry look.

‘Hardly your cup of tea.'

‘No.'

‘Why did you come here?' she asked. They'd been silent all the way from town, but now, as the car pulled to a halt before the farmhouse verandah, she seemed to find her tongue.

‘It's the first step to becoming a judge. I don't want to stay a lawyer for ever,' he said, and unexpectedly she grinned.

‘Then you've taken the first step. You've stopped wearing your suit and tie. Congratulations.'

It was hard not to grin back. Her smile was infectious. ‘It's back to suits tomorrow.'

‘Magistrates don't need suits. They need…I don't know. Knowledge. Wisdom. Compassion.'

‘Failing all that, suits will have to do.'

‘Hmm.' She shook her head at him. He cut the engine—she should get out—but the night was still and warm and there was this thing between them that needed examining…

‘It's a shame,' she said softly, ‘to wear such severe suits, to flatten that gorgeous hair…' Then, before he could do anything to stop her, her hand came out and touched his head. She was running her fingers through his tousled curls as if she couldn't help herself. ‘It's great hair. Lovely hair. Do you take after your mother or father?'

‘I have no idea.' The feeling of her fingers in his hair was weird. It set every nerve in his body alight. He found himself clenching his hands on the steering wheel, staring out at the night beyond and trying to halt the flood of sensations coursing through his body.

‘I see.' Silence. Then… ‘So Wendy's right.'

‘Wendy sticks her nose where it has no business being.' His voice sounded as strained as he felt.

‘Maybe,' Shanni agreed. ‘But, then, Wendy's like a judge. Knowledgeable. Wise. And kind. Like you intend to be.'

‘I don't know about that.' He stirred and shifted his hands—and clenched them again on the wheel.

‘Why don't you know your parents?'

He shrugged. ‘I have vague memories of my mother. She had a different hair colour every time she visited me, though. Who can say if she looked like me?'

‘You didn't live with her?'

‘Not often. Mostly I lived in foster homes. She wouldn't let me be adopted.'

‘Oh, Nick…'

‘Heck, we're not feeling sorry for me, here,' he said savagely. It was a long time since he'd railed against the unfairness of his past. ‘I've had a very good life, thank you very much. Some great foster homes.'

‘Many?'

‘A dozen or so. My mother kept arriving and deciding she'd take me back. For a week or so. Or she'd just make so much fuss the foster parents thought I was too much trouble.' He smiled without humour, staring out at the dark. ‘My mother and I have a very low tolerance rate. Domesticity's not my scene.'

‘Not your mother's scene?'

‘As you say.'

‘And now you're set to be a judge.'

‘Great, isn't it? His voice was self-mocking. ‘Back-street kid makes good.'

‘You've fought for this?'

‘Every way I know how,' he told her, and there was no way he could stop the icy determination from his voice. ‘Every waking minute. I remember…'

‘You remember what?' She was almost whispering.

And he told her. It must have been the night, he told himself later. The warmth of the evening, and the scent of the garden and the eucalypts towering over them with the stars glimmering through. Or…the warmth drifting between.

Or… It must have been that she was a listener—not like any other woman he'd gone out with. He only knew he had to talk—and talk of something he'd never talked about in his life before.

‘I remember sitting in court,' he said, and he was speaking almost to himself, his voice half-mocking. ‘I was about seven. I'd spent a month with my mother and the welfare authorities got an injunction to take me away. I was…neglected, to say the least. So they were all in court—my mother—her boyfriend—my mother's neighbours—social workers I'd never met before. And they all were saying what should happen to me.'

‘So?' Her voice was gentle.

‘So I remember looking up at the judge and he just said…he just said what would happen. No argument and it was the right thing. It was what I wanted, and it meant I got fed again and got to go to school. So I figured…right then and there I figured…that that was what I was going to be. Someone who could say what would happen.'

‘Oh, Nick…'

‘Pretty silly reason for wanting to be a judge, huh?' he said, still in that self-mocking voice. Good grief, he was pathetic.

But she didn't think so. Shanni was saying nothing, just sitting watching him with eyes that were almost luminescent in the dark. There was a glimmer on her lashes that could almost have been tears.

‘Hey…'

‘I think that's the best reason I've ever heard for wanting
to be a judge, Nick Daniels,' she said in a choked voice. ‘And now you've made it.'

‘I want high-court judge,' he said, and his voice firmed.

‘Won't magistrate at Bay Beach do? Or county-court judge? Our last judge stayed thirty years.'

‘Thirty years!' His tone told her what he thought of that. ‘No chance. Two years and I'm out of here.'

‘Country gets under your skin.' She couldn't stop a note of bitterness creeping into her own voice then. ‘Though I'd have to agree that sometimes the place can even get to me.'

‘Sometimes even you want to get away?'

‘Sometimes,' she admitted. ‘This week will be hard.'

‘Because?'

‘In case you haven't noticed,' she retorted, ‘I threw away a perfectly good marriage proposition this afternoon. The news will be all over the town by now. John's a very nice person.'

‘He's a stuffed shirt.'

She grinned at that. ‘Yes. You see it. I see it now, too, but the town sees a very nice boy who I've thrown over for nothing. John will be getting sympathy and I'll get the Wicked Witch Of The West treatment. Apart from my family—who'll be so pleased that I'll want to slug them.'

‘Why?'

‘Do you enjoy people telling you, “I told you so”?' she demanded bitterly. ‘No? Neither do I. My family saw the stuffed shirt bit before I did.' Then she paused as, up on the verandah, a light fluttered, shifted and died against the shadows. The bitterness increased. ‘Oh, no. I might have known.'

‘You might have known what?'

‘I have three teenage brothers and sisters,' she said, sighing and lifting her purse from the seat in readiness to leave. ‘They're all in the front room right now, and they're spying on us. I'll go in and they'll be all over me—they'll be so
sympathetic about John and they'll be so avid for information about you…'

It'd drive him nuts. ‘You don't ever think of moving out?'

‘Oh, yeah.' She jeered gently into the night. ‘Apartments are hardly thick on the ground in Bay Beach, and everyone would think we'd fought, and my mother would be hurt, and…' She glowered at the moving curtains, and then sighed. ‘And I'd miss them.'

‘I'm glad I don't have a family.'

That got to her. Her eyes widened in the dusk. No! ‘Nick, you don't know what you're saying,' she whispered. She turned to him, shaken out of her self-pity, and she took both of his hands in hers in urgent entreaty. ‘To not want a family… Nick, you just don't know…'

Then she took a deep breath, seemed to collect herself and she pulled away. She'd taken this too far. Exposed wounds she had no hope of healing. ‘Th-Thank you for the ride home. Will I see you on Sunday?'

‘I guess.' He smiled then, and softened. ‘I'll be here. Shall I call for you at eleven and we'll collect Harry together?'

‘He'll like that.'

And so will I, Nick thought suddenly. To leave her now with no future date in store would be hard. Shanni wasn't his sort, of course. Not as beautiful as the sophisticated women he normally dated. But…she was soft, warm, compassionate…

She was getting under his skin!

‘You'd best go in,' he said uneasily, flicking a glance up at the shifting curtains. ‘You'll be getting a reputation.'

‘They've been watching me for ever,' she snapped. ‘They drive me nuts. As if I'd ever do anything interesting…'

It was the way she said it. She didn't say it flatly—she
said it with longing.
As if I'd ever do anything interesting…
'

What did she want?

And suddenly he knew—or maybe it was what he wanted.

He laughed, a soft, carefree laugh that had her staring. ‘Okay, then, Miss Uninteresting Miss McDonald…let's do something to give our audience a show. If you're willing…' His dark eyes dared her in the moonlight and then, before she knew or could guess what he intended, he took her into his arms and he kissed her.

T
HIS
wasn't just a kiss.

This was a
kiss
!

It wasn't meant to be a kiss of friendship, a soft kiss of farewell, or even a kiss of the start of a love affair. This was passion meant for an audience. Nick had sized up three watching pairs of eyes and he knew what they most wanted—so he gave it to them in full.

His sports car was open to the weather and to their audience. The seats were wide and soft, and there was a good eighteen inches between driver and passenger. No more. Nick took a deep breath, turned to the lady beside him, put his hands on her shoulders—and kissed.

She leaned back with shock—and he leaned back with her, so they fell together onto the soft leather. She gave a squeak of astonishment. Their mouths met fleetingly as they disappeared underneath the dashboard—disappearing completely from view.

Then Nick lifted his face from hers momentarily—he'd had to stifle her squeak somehow, and kissing her properly was the only way to do it. ‘Put your feet up high,' Nick whispered urgently before she could squeak again. ‘A bit of stocking above the dash for the audience. Come on, Shanni, let's give them their money's worth.'

For a moment he didn't think she'd respond. Her body was rigid in his hold—shocked into immobility. Not for long, though. This was one smart lady, and her sense of humour was always bubbling just below the surface.

As somehow he'd known it would be, he thought. It was as if he knew her without knowing her, as if something in
his mind read hers and understood. As he'd known it would—or he'd hoped.

And it happened. He felt laughter ripple though her body in a lovely long chuckle, and her arms came around him and held him fast. She leaped right into the act with a vengeance.

‘Oh, Nick,' she murmured at full passion, her voice ringing out into the still, night air, carrying right up to the verandah and into the open window beyond. ‘Nick…darling…'

‘Shanni…' His mouth was inches from hers—once under the dash he could withdraw just a little. Laughter was bubbling inside him as well. ‘A wiggle, I think,' he whispered urgently. ‘A kick?'

And she did. With delight he felt her body shift under his. Her legs raised above dashboard height—she was wearing a flowing skirt, for heaven's sake, and her legs were silk-stockinged—and he felt her wiggle like crazy. Her feet waved back and forth like flags, as if she was riding a bicycle upside down. Inside the house, the siblings would be pop-eyed.

‘Oh, Nick…' she groaned out loud. ‘Nick, Nick…kiss me, kiss me…'

He choked with admiration and laughter, and he looked down into her laughing eyes.

And that was a mistake.

They were so lovely…

He was meant to be kissing the girl for a joke! She was laughing up at him, her stockinged feet were wiggling in the air and her eyes were alight with merriment. She was holding him, his body was pressed against hers and her breasts were moulding into his. Her laughing mouth was inches from his and she was so lovely…

And suddenly her mouth wasn't inches from his. It was right under his, and his mouth was on hers and he was
kissing her—but he was kissing her as if there really was passion between them. As if this was a man making love to the most beautiful woman in the world—instead of an irrepressibly ridiculous small-town kindergarten teacher who wanted to tease her brothers and sister.

And Shanni had frozen again—but she froze only for one moment.

She could feel it too, he thought dazedly. Whatever was between them was shared, and it was something that was more powerful than either of them. This like-minded stuff…it was drawing them closer and closer, so her lovely laughing eyes merged with the twinkling of the stars and the feel of her body with his.

And night and girl and desire were all merging into one, and Nick was kissing her as if he'd never let her leave him—as long as they both should live.

‘Shanni!'

It couldn't last, of course. How could it not end? Not with such an audience. The front door banged wide and a male voice shouted down to them from the verandah. ‘Shanni, is that you?'

She didn't push away. Not instantly. For one tiny second they stayed together, and that fraction of an instant told Nick that Shanni was as reluctant to finish the kiss as he was.

But needs must. She pushed him back, and her eyes searched his in the dim light. And then she smiled, and if there was a trace of uncertainty in her smile it was replaced fast by laughter.

‘Oh, Nick…what have you done? My reputation, for-sooth…'

‘What have
I
done? What have
you
done?' Somehow he managed laughter in return. ‘Wicked Witch of the West and Scarlet Woman to boot.'

She grinned, hauling herself up to sit decorously again,
smoothing her skirt over her knees as both their heads reappeared above the dashboard for the observers to see.

‘You're the seducer here,' she said primly. ‘I can see the headlines now. “Magistrate Seduces Innocent Kindergarten Teacher in Sports Car.” You'll be tarred and feathered and run out of town.'

‘I could be so lucky!'

She heard it then—the faint trace of bitterness in his voice. So he really did want to leave, she thought, and he wanted it badly. But…she couldn't focus on Nick any longer. Her father was out on the verandah, staring down at the couple in the car, and her mother was following close behind.

‘Hi,' she managed, smiling up at her father. ‘It's me, Dad. Nick gave me a ride home.'

‘So I see.' The farmer's voice said he had a shotgun right behind him and he'd use it if necessary. To Nick's amazement, Shanni didn't blush or try to defend herself. She chuckled again and swung herself out of the car.

‘Don't get your knickers in a twist, Dad. We had an audience.' She gestured to the curtain, where three faces had now appeared full-on. Her three youngest siblings. ‘Nick thought we ought to give them a show for their money.'

‘Oh…' Guy McDonald looked sideways at his three youngest children, worry fading as he saw what had happened. And he grinned. So this was where Shanni got her sense of humour. ‘I see. So you shocked them to the core. Well done. You want to come in for coffee, young fella?'

‘I…no. I need to get back.' Unlike Shanni, Nick wasn't in control at all. Something had happened during that kiss, and he wasn't at all sure he knew what it was. He needed to get back to town and sort out what he was feeling. Or…sort out that he was feeling
nothing
!

Which he must be.

‘Nick's coming with us on Sunday, Dad,' Shanni said. She left the car, climbed the verandah steps, then stood between her parents and smiled back down at him. ‘To Grandpa's birthday picnic. We're bringing Harry.'

‘That's nice, dear,' her mother said placidly.

Did nothing shock these people?

No. It couldn't. Nick looked up at them. Guy McDonald's arm was around his daughter's shoulders, her mother was standing beside her with affection written clearly on her face, and the three young faces were still bobbing up and down at the window and grinning like three clowns—and Nick suddenly knew what it was he was seeing. This family loved their Shanni, and they loved her absolutely. Anything she chose to do would be okay by them.

The knowledge—the sensation—was suddenly almost claustrophobic. He'd never known a love like this. Never! And here she was, surrounded. Shanni was like an alien creature, he thought. She was totally apart from the world he lived in.

‘I'll see you Sunday, then,' he said abruptly, and he flicked on the engine and spun the car around too fast in the driveway. A half-grown collie pup, heading down from the verandah to investigate, yelped and scurried for cover and Nick had to brake to avoid hitting him. Which sort of spoiled his dignified exit.

He made his exit anyway. He didn't look back—but Shanni and her parents stood on the verandah and watched him drive away, and he could feel their eyes follow him all the way into town.

 

‘He's not your sort, is he dear?' Shanni's mother had no sooner closed the kitchen door and put the kettle on than she was into probe mode. Nick had been right. Anything
Shanni chose to do was okay with her parents, but that didn't mean they didn't enquire.

‘It was a joke, Mum,' Shanni said mildly, and her mother flashed her a look that said she wasn't stupid.

‘Your John's been telling the town you've thrown him over for the magistrate.'

‘John's a chauvinist twit—and he's not
my
John.'

‘He's a very worthy person,' her mother said sternly. Then a matching twinkle to her daughter's flashed into her older eyes. ‘But you're right. He lacks a sense of humour, poor John. Your father and I are very relieved that you've finally seen it. It's only…'

‘You think I'm jumping from the frying pan into the fire?'

‘I would never have called John a frying pan.' Her mother chuckled and Shanni had to smile. ‘But maybe…'

‘Maybe nothing.' Shanni took a deep breath. ‘I'm a big girl now, Mum, and I'm not looking to get involved with a magistrate. Especially one who's carrying the scars Nick is. But Harry thinks Nick is great and if I can get a relationship going between them… That baby needs someone who cares.'

‘You care.'

‘Harry needs a male.'

‘He needs a daddy—and where there's a daddy there's usually a mother, too.'

‘Oh, for heaven's sake…' Shanni glowered, half-laughing, half-indignant. ‘Mum, I am
not
interested in Nick Daniels. Got it?'

‘Yes, dear,' her mother said, and Shanni knew she didn't believe a word of it.

And maybe…maybe she didn't either.

 

And Nick?

Nick drove home feeling more claustrophobic than he'd
felt in his life before. All he wanted to do was to turn his car to head for the city and never come back.

Or was it? Wasn't it that he wanted to turn the car and return to Shanni?

No! He wanted to leave this town!

Which was really stupid. His career plans said he had to stick this place out for two years, and so far he'd done less than a week. Great! And he'd be welcomed back to the city with open arms—he didn't think!

If he appeared back in chambers next Monday morning they'd assume he'd failed. His long-term plan was high-court judge, and this was step one. He had to take it.

He didn't want to stay. He didn't want this involvement! Not with the child—or the girl.

He could concentrate on being a fine barrister, he thought desperately, and there was a possibility he could move sideways to the high court…

Ha! He'd looked at that option and he knew it depended hugely on luck. What he was doing now was the most certain way to get where he wanted. Put in the hard work, Abe had told him, and Abe was right.

Which meant putting up with country life—putting up with the gossip and the people—and staying uninvolved. But, for heaven's sake, he'd only been here for a few days and already he was involved up to his neck. He should ring Shanni and tell her their Sunday date was off.

‘I do not want to go on a family picnic with a baby and a gorgeous girl and her grandma and grandpa and her brothers and sisters…'

Yes, he did. Sort of…

He wanted to be there, he knew, but he wanted to walk away at the end, heart-whole and fancy-free.

But he was starting to think there was no way that could happen, and the thought scared him witless.

 

Friday and Saturday were endless. Even the witnesses and defendants in court seemed to know what was happening in his life and to be summing him up.

‘They think you're turning the place upside down,' Mary told him at the break of a long and boring case deciding whether a farmer's cows were damaging an access road. ‘You arrive, we've had a hostage drama which will keep the district talking for years, the kindergarten teacher has broken off with her intended…'

‘He wasn't her intended.'

‘John sure intended, even if Shanni didn't. And now…the kids have spread it all over town that their sister's in love with you.'

They'd asked for that with their kissing stunt in the car, Nick thought wryly, and grimaced.

‘I'm darned if I can see why everyone thinks it's their business.'

‘This is Bay Beach,' Mary said simply. ‘Everything's everyone's business. Speaking of which…'

‘Don't…'

But she was unstoppable. ‘I meant to tell you before this case started… Bill Nuggins could quite easily drive his cows to the dairy across his back paddock instead of using the road. He's using the road because the folk bought the place next door as a weekend home and he wanted to buy it himself. So now he likes the idea of them having to drive through cow dung.'

‘Gee, thanks.' This was useful information but it wasn't up to his clerk of court to give it to him.

‘Think nothing of it,' she said blandly. ‘They're nice people and he's giving them a hard time so I thought you should know. I'm off after this, so I'll see you Sunday at the picnic. Oh, and you'd best make your mind up about Shanni. She's not one to tread water very long.'

What did she mean by that?

Nick didn't know, and he couldn't allow himself to care.

But he did care, and not just about Shanni. He finished work—advising the farmer to re-route his cows—took himself for a solitary walk on the beach and found his feet taking him to Harry's home. It was bedtime, and Wendy greeted him as if she'd been expecting him.

‘He's been waiting for you.'

‘I didn't say I'd come.'

‘He knew you would.'

Nick figured he'd have to ignore that. Its implications were enormous. ‘How did the assessment go today?'