A Time of Secrets (38 page)

‘Private Smith,’ I said.

Lawrie Smith turned and smiled to see me.

‘G’day. Stella, isn’t it?’ There was a weary sadness about him. ‘G’day, Lieutenant. She’s no better, I’m afraid.’

I glanced at Ross, then back at Lawrie. ‘Is Violet in there?’

Lawrie frowned. ‘She’s there, but still not conscious. If she doesn’t come around soon, she won’t come around at all, they tell us. Mum and Dad are here, but I’m the only one of the boys who’s been able to get leave. We talk to her, sing to her.’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing seems to do the trick. You visiting her again, Lieutenant? Mum was really grateful for the flowers.’

Ross seemed almost disconcerted. ‘I’m taking Sergeant Aldridge home. She had a bad asthma attack.’

‘I’ll try to get back here to see Violet next week,’ I said, and I touched his arm. ‘I hope she comes out of it soon.’

He ducked his head in a nod and disappeared down the corridor.

I looked at Ross. ‘I thought you didn’t care about Violet at all.’

‘I lied.’ He lifted the corner of his lip; it was almost a smile. ‘I’m not in love with the girl. But I felt I owed her something. She’s a good kid.’

Ross drove me back to Avoca. We’d just rounded the corner into Toorak Road when I had a thought.

‘Why did they let you into the ward to sit with me? If they wouldn’t let Eric or the girls in, why you?’

A shamefaced half-smile showed itself, and he looked like a guilty boy.

‘I said we were engaged.’

‘
What?
’

‘They believed me because Dr Hollis had telephoned to say I’d be bringing you to hospital.’

I shook my head slowly and then I laughed, as the absurdity of the situation hit me. ‘You really are a manipulative so-and-so, Nick Ross.’

His smile broadened. ‘I really am.’

It began as he parked the car. We walked to the front path and vivid images crowded into my mind. My helplessness during Cole’s attack, Eric’s face when he saw me with Ross, the fight in the darkness. Eric had attacked Ross just
there
. I felt a quivering sensation in my chest, my breathing became faster, shallower as I walked with Ross to the double glass doors that led into Avoca. As we entered the dark lobby together, my hands became moist. I started to shiver as we walked up the stairs. My heart was thumping when Ross unlocked the door and it opened into an empty flat.

He walked inside, switching on the light in the tiny vestibule. I hadn’t moved and he turned around with a query in his eyes. I regarded him blankly. All I knew was that I could not go into that empty flat with him.

‘It’s all right, Stella.’ His voice was surprisingly gentle. ‘He’s not in here.’

I wondered if he meant Cole or Eric. I shook my head. I was still standing in the doorway. He walked through the dark lounge room to pull across the curtains and turned on the light.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘You can go.’ I hadn’t moved.

An odd expression flitted over his face. ‘Come in, Stella. I won’t hurt you.’

I shook my head.

‘Leave the door open if you like,’ he said.

‘No.’ I sounded scared. It annoyed me, but I could do nothing about it. I
was
scared.

‘I’ll let you in on a secret,’ he said. ‘You’re really not my type. I kissed you that night out of habit more than inclination, in the heat of the moment. It’s a shame that Eric thought . . .’

I stared at him, unsure how to take that. His expression sharpened and his voice was now clipped and unemotional. ‘I’m not interested in you romantically, Stella. I’m not a raging psychopath who enjoys hurting women. And certainly I don’t need to force myself on a woman. So come inside. I think that the reality of Cole’s attack has just hit you. You’re in shock.’

Ross was right. I was in shock. Ross wasn’t like Cole. Wasn’t like Frank. Or like Eric. Ross was not going to hurt me, and he wasn’t interested in me romantically. I had to be sensible. I took my time removing my greatcoat, and that time allowed me to calm down. As I hung my damp coat on the hook in the vestibule I took solace in remembering that I didn’t even like Nick Ross.

When I turned around Ross smiled at me, a lazy smile that highlighted his movie-star looks. ‘I’m a dab hand at scrambled eggs,’ he said. ‘You didn’t eat anything much at hospital. Care to try some?’

It was the smile that undid me. It reminded me of Frank. I didn’t trust men who smiled easily. Didn’t want to be alone with them in an empty flat. My whole body shook as my heart thudded in dizzying palpitations against my chest. I put my hand on the wall to steady myself. The wall was cold and hard against my palm. Slowly, I edged back towards the open door.

Ross’s smile had disappeared and he was watching me closely, considering my actions. ‘You’re in shock,’ he repeated. ‘But it’s more than that. You’re remembering something.’

I just stared at him. ‘I don’t feel well,’ I said. I breathed in. No asthma. ‘Maybe it’s a heart attack.’

‘Or anxiety neurosis,’ he said. ‘Stella, trust me. Take a deep breath, hold it and let it out slowly. I’m going to come closer. If me coming closer makes it much worse, then we’ll work out what else to do.’

Slowly he walked towards me, looking at me the whole time and pausing after every step to see if I was too upset. I concentrated on my breathing and the shadows of his lashes on his cheeks.

When he reached me he put a hand on my shoulder. I started. It was all I could do to stop from screaming.

‘Easy does it,’ he said. His voice was low and gentle. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. You can breathe, there’s no need to be scared of me.’ The pressure of his hand on my shoulder felt good, as if it connected me to the real world. I remembered how he’d held me when I’d had the asthma attack, how he’d looked after me that night, got me to the doctor. Nick Ross wasn’t like Cole, wasn’t like Frank or Eric, and he wasn’t interested in me romantically. I was safe.

Ross led me to the couch and I flopped onto it like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He crouched down in front of me, staring into my face. ‘Your husband?’

I looked straight into his eyes. He watched me steadily. In the electric light his eyes were various shades of green with a hint of yellow.

‘We married too quickly. I’d only known him for a few months, but he was so insistent. It was a terrible mistake.’

‘Nice at first, then . . . not?’

‘At first it was utterly blissful.’ I stared at him, remembering. ‘We were so happy.’ I looked down at my hands, gripped together tightly in my lap. ‘And then he started to criticise me over little things. Nothing was good enough. He told me my painting was hopeless and I gave it up. My cooking, housekeeping, the way I dressed. Nothing I did was good enough. I was never good enough. It was almost a relief when the hitting started.’ I closed my eyes. No, that was a lie; it had not been a relief. He never left bruises where they showed, but the pain, the terror, had been almost unbearable. ‘Everyone thought he was so nice, that it was a perfect match.’

‘He’s dead, Stella. He can’t hurt you, not now.’

‘He’ll always hurt me.’

‘Only if you let him.’

I took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly.
Frank was dead. He couldn’t hurt me, not any more
. I looked at the man in front of me.

‘You said just now that you weren’t interested in me romantically,’ I said. ‘For the record, I’m not interested in you in that way, either.’

‘Then we each know where we stand. Pax, Stella? Friends?’

I held his gaze, now very serious.

‘I didn’t want you to kiss me. I’ve never wanted you to kiss me.’

He squirmed, shamefaced; it was a Nick Ross I didn’t know, and it surprised me.

‘You’d nearly died,’ he said. ‘I felt . . . protective.’

‘It was a stupid, rotten thing to do.’

Now it was he who turned away, as he stood to remove his greatcoat. Ross was the reason I’d seen the wolf in Eric. For that alone, it was hard not to hate him, because he’d destroyed my dreams. But in the silence as he slowly hung up his coat, hiding his face from me, I thought about how he’d done me a favour by showing me what Eric was really like before I’d got in too deep. When he turned to look at me again, his face was shuttered, wary, with no hint of a smile.

‘I’ll make us some scrambled eggs.’ He turned towards the kitchen.

‘Lieutenant Ross,’ I said quickly, before I could think about it.

He twisted to look at me.

‘Friends,’ I said.

The movie-star smile did not appear. He nodded, and went into the kitchen.

Thirty-five

H
e did make good scrambled eggs. We ate together at the kitchen table and talked about banalities until our plates were empty and the light outside had the dullness of late afternoon. Soon it would be dark, and Lance Cole was somewhere in that darkness.

‘All better?’ he said, taking my plate.

‘Tickety-boo,’ I replied.

Eric would have made fun of the silly expression; Ross just nodded. ‘Coffee?’ He looked around the kitchen. ‘I presume Dolly has coffee somewhere.’

‘Of course. Courtesy of the Americans. In the top cupboard.’

He peered inside and took out the tin. ‘I’ll make it. And I’m staying the night. I’ll sleep in Dolly’s bed.’

‘I don’t want you to.’

‘I’m not leaving you here alone. So I’m staying.’

There was no point arguing and, anyway, I didn’t want to sleep in that flat alone. I handed him clean sheets and left him to make up Dolly’s bed as I washed my face and brushed my teeth. When I went to my room I locked my door, turning the key so that it made a loud click in the lock.

It was two in the morning when I heard him. A loud shout, followed by moans. He was yelling to someone. I jumped out of bed, gasping at the cold. I slipped my feet into slippers and threw on my dressing gown. I unlocked the bedroom door and dashed into Dolly’s room, but when I turned on the light it was clear that he was in the grip of a nightmare.

He tossed around in the bed, shouting to invisible men to drop down, watch out,
he’s over there
. He cowered at invisible bombs and ducked to avoid invisible bullets. There were tears on his cheeks.

‘Wake up, Nick.’ I grasped his shoulder and shook him. ‘It’s a dream. It’s only a dream.’

Even though they said not to wake a sleepwalker, I thought that this was more like night terrors. My sister had had night terrors in Malaya. When she flailed around in the bedclothes, screaming, Mother would awaken her by firmly shaking her shoulder and saying, ‘Wake up, darling, it’s only a dream.’

Jill would open sleepy eyes and smile at Mother. Ross grabbed me in a fierce embrace, pulled me onto the bed and rolled on top of me. I was fairly sure he was still dreaming, until he put his hands on either side of my face and he put his lips on mine. No one could kiss like that if they were asleep. Not like that! His lips were warm and soft and skilled; one hand was in my hair and the other traced lazy circles over my bare neck. Without any conscious thought – how could I think at such a moment? – my arms went around his neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer. I revelled in the hardness of his body against me, and in the scent of his skin. His hands moved down, under my pyjamas, over the swell of my hips and along my thigh.

Then I began to struggle. I pushed against him until I had wriggled out of his embrace, or he had released me. I came to my senses sitting on the side of the bed and hiding my head in my hands.

I mainly felt fury at myself for responding to him, and I tried to somehow justify it by remembering that Nick Ross was a skilled seducer. Any woman would find it difficult to withstand him. I hadn’t really enjoyed it at all – surely I hadn’t really enjoyed it? He’d tricked me, pretending to be having a nightmare. It had obviously been a ruse to get me close enough to pounce on. But when I remembered the terror in his voice, and the tears on his face, I knew it hadn’t been pretence.

I removed my hands from my face.

‘What were you thinking?’ I asked.

‘I wasn’t.’ He sounded faintly amused. ‘I was having a nightmare that turned into a dream come true. I did what any man would do in those circumstances.’

‘I thought I wasn’t your type. I thought you had no romantic interest in me.’

‘I lied.’

At that I stood on unsteady legs and faced him. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ross.’

He was lying back against the pillows. A slight smile was playing around his mouth, but the expression in his eyes was bleak.

‘Honestly, do you try your luck with any woman who comes within grabbing distance?’

‘Not every woman. And you hardly fought tooth and nail to escape me.’

‘Oh, very gallant.’ I pulled my dressing gown closer around me.

He put a pillow behind his shoulders and sat up in the bed. ‘No one could ever accuse me of gallantry.’

As I took a breath and calmed myself I realised, with some surprise, that I wasn’t scared in the slightest. Annoyed, yes. But not afraid. I even laughed. It was shaky, but a laugh.