Handle Me with Care (16 page)

‘I will, on one condition,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s not an action flick.’

‘Hey, patient’s prerogative, remember. What about a compromise?’ He held up the DVD case of
Armegeddon.

She nodded. It could be
Bambi
or
Die Hard
for all she cared. She had to focus on fighting the urge to run, to protect herself from more hurt.

‘Is your neck okay?’ She noticed his hand on his shoulder as he sat next to her, his head tilted to one side as though trying to stretch away a knot.

‘Just a bit stiff, probably slept funny.’

‘Well, it looks as though I can use both of my professions tonight, then.’

His eyes flittered dangerously, flirtatiously, and she felt her cheeks colour. That giddy feeling of something new took over and she relaxed. She indicated for him to sit on the floor and she sat on the sofa, putting her legs on either side of him.

Massage of the neck was something she did frequently at work, but never before had her hands shaken like this, had she been so mesmerised by her patient’s skin beneath her own. She could feel the knots in the left side of his shoulder in particular, and as the film began she worked away to release the tension.

‘Wow, that’s good. If you end up leaving the physio business, don’t ever give up the massage talent, will you?’

After a while she let her fingers lightly graze the skin on the back of his neck and felt him shudder. He moved back to the sofa and held Maddie’s hand as they watched the movie, his body stretched out and his head tilted on to her shoulder.

It wasn’t until the movie reached its climax that she realised how heavy Evan’s head had become. He was sound asleep.

She looked down at his faded blue tracksuit pants and the grey T-shirt with a stain at the bottom. With the stubble that would need to be cut before it turned into a full-on beard, he had never looked so sexy. This big, strong man was just as vulnerable as she was.

As the final credits began to roll, they woke Evan. ‘Are you crying?’ He looked up at Maddie before rubbing his hands across his face to wake himself up.

‘Guilty.’ She pulled a tissue from her pocket. She didn’t tell him the ending of the film was only part of the reason she had turned into a blubbering wreck. Her yo-yo of emotions hadn’t given up and as she had watched him, so peaceful, lolling around with her as though they were the only two people in existence and nothing else mattered, she had realised that this was actually real. She was falling in love for the second time in her life.

‘I’d better go.’ She stood suddenly. ‘You need to rest.’

She kissed him gently, her lips hovering on his before she pulled away. ‘Goodbye, Evan.’

‘Maddie.’ He caught her arm before she managed to push it into her coat sleeve. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, I just need to go.’

‘I know I’m not the best company at the moment, and that’s why I hadn’t invited you over before.’

‘You don’t need to explain. I’m sorry I put you on the spot.’

‘I’m glad you did, really glad.’ He reached up and cupped her cheek. ‘I need to work through this at my own pace, but I still want you.’

‘I shouldn’t have come.’ And with that she let the door click shut behind her and fled down the fire escape just in case he opened the door to his apartment and tried to stop her from getting in the lift.

Chapter Twenty

Sydney often outshone Melbourne in the weather stakes, and it was the perfect weekend to showcase the Northern Beaches with their never ending golden sands, swirling oceans that went on for miles, and towering palm trees that lined the walkways and surrounding green space.

Maddie hadn’t been in Sydney since Christmas, and with everything that had happened with Evan and the fact she had left his place in such a panic the other night, she felt she needed this distance. She smiled as she drove the hire car from Kingsford Smith Airport all the way up to Palm Beach, the northernmost suburb of Sydney. The drive was breathtaking, with surrounding bushland and glimpses of the unspoiled blue waters of the Pacific Ocean along the way. The breeze drifted through the open windows, grazing her neck, and the hair of her ponytail lifted and danced freely. It felt good to be free from everyday life, and although her thoughts followed her, a change in location was a welcome escape.

‘Maddie, you’re here!’ When she arrived her mum was first out of the door to meet her. Dressed in a floaty violet cotton dress with her hair in a neat grey bob, sunglasses nestled above the fringe, she looked as though Palm Beach had been her home her entire life.

‘Hi, Mum.’ Maddie hugged her. It felt unexpectedly settling to be back in the warm embrace of her family, and she blinked away the tears that took her by surprise.

‘You found the place okay, then?’

‘It was easy thanks to your directions, and there’s a Sat Nav in the hire car anyway.’

‘Oh, you don’t need one of those things,’ her mum dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. ‘We still have our Sydways and have no intention of modernising any time soon.

‘So how have you been?’

‘I’m fine. It’s great to finally see the new place, and I’d forgotten how fabulous it is up here.’

Maddie’s father had worked his way up the ranks and ended up as the Chief Executive Officer of a successful software company that had resisted the recent economic downturn. Growing up, Maddie and her sister, Jennifer, had been lucky enough to enjoy a grand house in the suburbs complete with a pool, trampoline, a sand pit, swing set and climbing bars. It had been nothing short of a child’s paradise and they had always been a close family. It was exactly how Maddie had envisioned her future with Riley – not the wealth, but the importance of family being at their very core.

Maddie walked up the worn steps to the renovated townhouse washed in ivory. ‘Where’s Dad?’

‘He’s popped out for some lunch.’

Maddie inspected the place from the granite bench tops in the kitchen area to the view beyond the wide balcony that stretched the width of the house. She was instantly drawn outside to see the ocean: boats bobbed drunkenly on the surface; the cries of gulls sounded as they organised each other in the sky. Back inside she found newly renovated bathrooms with gleaming accessories and her mum’s homely touches, including a basket of travel-sized toiletries with everything from mini Clinique soaps to miniature shaving kits – her mum had travelled frequently with her husband on business, and they always came back with more freebies than they needed from hotels and flights.

Maddie passed into the guest bedroom. The shutters opened back and the ocean refused to be ignored again.

‘This place is perfect.’ She left her weekend bag in the room and followed her mum into the kitchen. She took a breadstick from a plate and ran it through the tzatziki dip. ‘You must’ve been so pleased to get this place.’

‘We were very lucky.’ Her mum fanned out julienned carrot sticks on to the plate. ‘Our house in Cammeray went for far more than we hoped.’ She pulled a continental cucumber from the fridge and chopped it the same way before adding the pieces to the collection. ‘And there’s that beautiful spare room, so no excuses not to come and visit.’

When Riley died, Maddie’s parents had lost him too. He was like a son to Diane and Peter Kershaw. At the time Maddie had only been able to think of her own pain, and as a consequence she had kept herself to herself, and her visits home had become less and less frequent. She just hoped Evan wouldn’t make the same mistakes she had; she knew he hadn’t told his mum about the operation, and possibly the single biggest mistake Maddie had made after losing Riley was to hold those she loved at bay.

Her dad bounded through the door and Maddie moved to his open arms.

‘Dad, it’s lovely to see you.’

‘It’s great to have you here, Maddie.’ He grinned at his daughter as he pulled out plastic containers, small and large, and a French stick which brought the scent of the local bakery to the kitchen with its freshness.

‘Did one of you make this?’ Maddie picked up a small, round pottery bowl glazed in navy blue with white sea-shells that she hadn’t seen before.

Her dad raised his hand. ‘Guilty.’

‘Dad, I’m impressed.’

‘It’s awful, I need more practice.’

‘Nonsense. Just for that I’m going to put this in it.’ Maddie emptied out the Quinoa salad with red onion, spinach and sunny peppers.

The family chatted over bold tomatoes stuffed with tuna, and slices of golden quiche. Maddie made a show of spooning out the Quinoa salad from her dad’s creation, and her mum poured out glasses of homemade lemonade, a childhood favourite of Maddie’s and one that never ceased to appeal all through adulthood. They talked about her work; they talked about Palm Beach and the difference it made to their lives to be out of the busier suburbs.

‘I’ve even taken up golf.’ Her mum tucked her hair behind her ears. Her hair was cut short but slightly longer on top and the graduated lengths coming down in a fringe sat above wide-set hazel eyes. She had gone grey but added shades at regular hairdresser appointments made her look good for her sixty-nine years. Pale skin that had been looked after by vigilant use of sunscreen and the wearing of a hat over the years helped too.

‘I never thought I’d see you take up golf, Mum. Whenever Dad watched it on TV or went off to play you couldn’t have been less interested. What was it you used to call it?’

‘A sport for gossips and middle-aged men,’ her dad chuckled, spooning out more salad and adding an extra helping of butter to his bread.

‘That was it!’ 

Her mum’s cheeks flushed in exactly the same way Maddie’s did so often. ‘We’re both ready to enjoy our retirement now, so I’m entitled to saunter along with the other women and discuss whatever we like.’

‘Husbands,’ said her dad, jolting Maddie’s arm.

‘Maybe you two could go touring around Australia visiting all the different golf courses,’ Maddie suggested.

‘Ah, that’s right. Riley’s father was into golf in a big way wasn’t he? Didn’t he do that once?’

Now it was Maddie’s turn to flush at the name so easily dropped into conversation. It had happened so effortlessly, so naturally, yet it felt like she had been caught on barbed wire. It had been a long time since Maddie had let her guard down in front of her parents, and she didn’t miss the look that passed between them as she focused on slicing through the tomato on her plate.

‘We’re here for you, love,’ said her dad before they continued with lunch, and the conversation moved to Ally and how her time at University was going.

After she helped to clear away the lunch plates, Maddie went for a walk. The beach was close to the new house, a tiny slice of paradise, and as soon as she got there she trailed a stick in the sand, tempted to write her name like she had done when she was a child. Both she and Jennifer had written their names along firm, wet sand on every beach holiday and then the game was to sit and wait for the tide to come in and wash the letters away. Of course, it didn’t always work. Sometimes the tide didn’t come in far enough, sometimes they had to leave early, and other times they just got it plain wrong and the water would never touch their writing.

Palm Beach sat at the end of a long peninsula. On one side, the surf reached lofty heights, but on the other was Snapperman Beach Reserve, where Maddie found the tranquillity of calmer waters. She made her way along the cool, wet sand, her Birkenstocks dangling from her fingertips as she watched the water gently lap against the shore. She’d spent a lot of time at this spot after Riley died. Whenever she felt hemmed in by the suburbs she would jump in her car and drive the picturesque route through the Northern Beaches and up as far as she could go as though running from everything that had happened.

The squidgy sand beneath her feet covered the tops of her toes with deep, golden mud, and she walked it off on the grass when she retreated to a place overlooking the pier. She sat down and watched as a seaplane came in to land.

‘Mind if I sit down?’ A voice came from behind her.

Her mum sat down on the grass and they both gazed out at the pier, and then on the three children frolicking waist deep in the water a bit further along Snapperman Beach.

‘You didn’t think I was going to let you come up to visit for a weekend and then go off on your own did you?’ Her mum took a deep breath of the salty air. ‘You used to spend a lot of time here.’

Maddie brushed the sand from between her toes as it dried.

‘You can fly from here to Sydney Harbour, you know,’ said her mum, watching the seaplane bobbing about on the water now. ‘It’s pricey, but maybe next time you come up we could treat ourselves.’

‘I’d really like that.’ Her insides yearned for the in-depth chats they used to share, but she had surrendered those for fear of the painful reminders of a past that once was.

Her mum’s gaze was transfixed on the three kids now. ‘You and Jennifer always loved the beach.’ The kids had emerged from the water, and the beginnings of a sandcastle were being produced from the first filled bucket of packed sand.

‘I know. I still do, just in a different way.’ She may not build sandcastles any longer, but the ocean and its freedom had a magic that nothing else could compare to. Just closing her eyes and listening to the water lapping against the shore had the ability to make Maddie believe everything would be all right in the end.

‘How are you really, Maddie?’

‘I have my good days and my bad.’

‘It’s been a long time … since Riley.’ Her mum seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

‘Why do I get the feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me?’

Her mum’s shoulders sagged. ‘There’s no keeping anything from you is there?’

‘What is it? Is something wrong with you, with Dad?’

‘No, no, it’s nothing like that.’

‘So what is it, then?’

‘It’s about Caitlin.’

Riley’s mum’s name jolted her. It was the last thing she had expected to hear. ‘What about her?’ She brushed the dry sand from the arch of her foot. Her mum knew Caitlin had cut Maddie out of her life, but not the brutal way in which she had ended their contact.

‘She called me.’

Maddie froze.

‘She wants to get in touch with you.’

Maddie’s toes jammed into the grass. Her jaw tensed as she took a deep breath in. ‘Why? Why after all this time?’

‘She said that she has something, of Riley’s, and it’s important that you have it.’

What was it? Was it a watch, a chain? Something of his that had been found after he’d been killed? Maddie racked her brain to think what it could be.

‘When she called I didn’t know what to say.’ Her mum’s arm remained on Maddie’s as though she was worried her daughter would take off again, back to Melbourne before they had a chance to resurrect the relationship they’d always had. ‘I almost put the phone straight back down again to shut her out in the same way she did to you.’

Maddie plucked a blade of grass and ran it through her fingers. Her mum didn’t know the half of it and it was then, as she looked out at the gentle ripples of the water, that Maddie realised how much it could’ve helped her if she’d shared the burden.

‘I’m a mother, Maddie. I can’t even begin to imagine what it has been like for her.’

‘Are you saying that she was right to drive me away?’

‘I’m not saying anything of the sort. All I’m saying is that I feel for her. Life is too short to push people out, and I think her call was her reaching out to us, to you. Oh, I know that doesn’t make it right, what she did, but I couldn’t be angry at her after everything she’s been through.’

‘What about what I’ve been through?’

‘You’ve been through too much, I know.’

‘I didn’t tell you the whole story, Mum.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I didn’t tell you what Caitlin said to me that day at the memorial.’

‘It sounded as though she didn’t say much.’

‘Oh, she said something all right. She said that I would replace Riley soon enough with someone else. She said that I had no right to grieve as heavily as she was, because I had no idea what it was like for her. She said that my pain was nothing in comparison.’

Her mum let the words hang in the air for a moment.

‘She was hurting, Maddie. She wouldn’t have meant it.’

‘No? She looked me in the eyes, didn’t blink when she said those words to me. When she said that I would get married, I would have a family of my own one day, and then the only way I could ever understand her pain would be if something happened to one of my own children. She said it as though she wanted the same to happen to me so that I would know my pain over Riley was nothing; it was invalid compared to hers.’