Jilted (27 page)

In the park they sat against an old eucalypt. The tree had been the topic of much debate amongst shire councillors over the years. Many thought its height and reach would be a threat if a storm came through, while others believed the ancient tree was part of Hope Junction’s iconic history. Flynn agreed with the latter, and thought about this while Lauren chatted away. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation – a grumpy and doleful disposition seemed to be his norm lately. And although he didn’t like it, he couldn’t quite find a way to shake it. For a while, Lauren didn’t appear to notice, content to natter on about her emails from Whitney – she and Rats were now on their honeymoon – from her brother, and general local gossip. She didn’t mention Matilda. Flynn knew this much as he made sure he paid enough attention to make the right noises at regular intervals.

But eventually Lauren noticed his lack of interaction. ‘Flynn, what’s up with you today? You’ve barely said a word.’

‘It’s …’ He meant to say
nothing
. He probably should have too, but he wanted information and Lauren, working at the hospital, might have some. ‘Have you heard about Matilda Thompson?’

She nodded. ‘Who hasn’t?’

‘I only just found out in the bank. How long has it been?’

‘Quite a while.’ She took a sip of Diet Coke. ‘But she didn’t want anyone to know. Not even Elenora.’

‘Ellie,’ he corrected.

‘
Ellie
, whatever. Sorry.’

There was silence for a moment. ‘I don’t want you to break your vow of silence or whatever it’s called, but how bad is she?’

Lauren sighed. ‘Bad. She’s not doing chemo, so she’s got maybe a couple of months.’

Flynn gasped, he couldn’t help it. ‘That’s awful.’

‘It is,’ Lauren said simply. ‘But Matilda has a full life with friends who care. There are many who have no one.’

Flynn heard professional sympathy in her voice. He understood the need to develop a thick skin as a nurse, but Lauren seemed overly detached. This wasn’t just anyone who was dying – this was a special member of their community. This was Matilda. Ellie’s Mat. He tried to think of a way to help without getting involved. They didn’t need money, and he couldn’t offer physical comfort, but he hated feeling so damn helpless.

‘Perhaps we should organise a local event, a dinner to show how much we all care or something.’

‘There’ll be someone already thought of it,’ said Lauren absentmindedly. She dug her phone out of her bag and began scrolling. ‘Matilda’s got plenty of friends.’

She was right. The eccentric, lovable Ms T was as much a local identity as the statue that stood in Apex Park. Mat would have visitors aplenty and everything she needed. But what would Ellie have? Who would be there to offer her the support she needed?

Chapter Twenty-four

Ellie turned on the kitchen light and made a beeline for the kettle. Through the window the first glow of dawn made a violet strip along the horizon. Every day she made sure she rose before Mat and prepared a cup of tea and her painkillers for the moment she awoke. She’d put
Lake Street
on hold – the script team found a way to explain her absence – and the producers had expressed their sympathy, happy to hold her job for as long as she needed.

Mat’s strength astounded Ellie. She never got the grumps about her situation and rarely complained about the pain, even though the doctor said it would be increasing. Eventually it would become almost unbearable, she’d told Ellie, and it was likely then, if some other ailment didn’t take her first, that Mat would give up her fight.

Hating the thought, Ellie filled the kettle and flicked the switch with more force than necessary. Even now, Mat slept a lot in the daytime and got tired from just doing a crossword.

Life simply sucked sometimes. Today, cleaning, cooking and movies were on the agenda. She had to keep busy or she’d go insane. And although she’d made enough soup and scones to last them till judgement day, it helped her feel like she were doing something useful.

While the water heated, she swallowed her own vitamins – a concoction she’d requested from the pharmacist to help her stave off any errant illness. She didn’t want any germs in the house, anything that would make Mat’s last months harder than they already were.

She took the oats out of the cupboard and set about making porridge. Another sacrifice for good health – she’d much prefer a good old bowl of Froot Loops.

Froot Loops
. Flynn’s favourite too. A spasm of jealousy hit as she imagined him sharing breakfast with Lauren. Mat’s visitors gave precious little away, but one had let slip they’d seen him lunching in the park with Lauren. She guessed he was too busy with his new girlfriend to offer his sympathies to an old one. She didn’t know what she expected from him, but almost every other person in town had made some sort of gesture – a card, an email, a phone call – and his silence angered her.

Argh
, the smell of burning oats broke her thoughts. She’d forgotten to stir and the porridge was stuck in big clumps to the bottom of the pan. Swearing, she took the pan off the heat and dumped it in the sink. Toast would have to do.

She took care over the toast and laid it nicely on a tray next to Matilda’s tea. When she knocked at the door, she only just made out the sound of Mat telling her to come in.

‘Morning,’ she said, flouncing into the room with feigned enthusiasm. ‘How are you today?’

‘Fine,’ she said, but Ellie could barely hear the words. It sounded more like the noise a frog would make.

‘What’s wrong?’ Shoving the tray onto the bedside table, Ellie sat on the bed and took Mat’s cold, papery hand in hers.

Mat hesitated a moment, contemplating her answer. Ellie gave her a firm look and she relented. ‘I have a sore throat,’ she admitted, her voice thick and rusty. ‘Need more tissues.’

Ellie glanced at the empty box and the mountain of scrunched-up white on the floor. She tried to keep the horror from her face. ‘Right. I’ll call Dr Bates and see what she recommends. In the meantime, do you think you can manage some toast and tea?’

Mat peered at the tray. ‘What happened to porridge?’

‘Don’t ask.’ Ellie propped some pillows behind her godmother’s back as she struggled to sit upright. She rested the tray on Matilda’s legs and smiled. ‘Dig in, I’ll be right back.’

Outside the bedroom, Ellie let her face and shoulders fall as she slumped against the wall. She rocked forward, her head coming to rest in her hands. This was not good. The prospect of another sickness – and its implications – terrified Ellie. It was all too soon. There were still so many things she wanted to say to Mat – she wanted to thank her more, hear more stories, ask more questions, cherish her opinions and ideas. She needed as many months as possible with Matilda.

The sound of another nose blow reminded Ellie she needed to get on to the doctor ASAP. Anything to help Mat fight off illness would be a godsend. Picking herself up, she sought the telephone and dialled the hospital. The surgery wasn’t open yet, but the nurses said they’d get the message to Dr Bates.

Less than half an hour later, Hannah was listening to Mat’s breathing, checking her blood pressure and doing a variety of other tests. With a beautiful bedside manner the doctor sat and held Matilda’s hand in the same way Ellie had done thirty minutes earlier.

‘You’ve got this ghastly cold that’s going round. I’ll give you some antibiotics, just in case there’s anything underlying it. But
basically, the doctor orders bed rest and TLC.’ She smiled at Mat and glanced at Ellie. ‘Is that chicken soup I smell?’

Ellie nodded. ‘I have tonnes of the stuff.’

‘Good. Keep fluids up – water, herbal tea, lemonade, hot chocolate, whatever takes your fancy – and keep warm. Sounds like a contradiction but a little fresh air would do wonders too. If it gets warmer this arvo, rug up and get outside for a while. If not, open the window a fraction.’ The doctor patted Mat’s hand and stood, stooping to collect her bag. ‘I’ll pop by again this afternoon to check on you, but if you have any questions or start to feel worse, get Ellie to call me.’

Ellie saw Dr Bates to the door, thanked her immensely and went back to Mat. ‘Would you like to go into the living room and we can watch a movie?’

‘Thanks.’ Mat’s reply was soft.

They deviated to the bathroom so Matilda could relieve herself, wash her face and brush her teeth. Ellie was happy that she’d managed the tea and half the toast while waiting for the doctor.

‘I’ll just get you settled and then pop down to the pharmacist. Is there anything you need before I go? Anything I can get for you while I’m out?’ She’d be quick. She hated the thought of leaving Mat on her own, even for short periods. Would it be overreacting if she called Joyce to come and watch?

‘I’ll be fine,’ Matilda said, as if she had a hotline to Ellie’s inner thoughts. ‘I like my own company.’

‘Have I been smothering you?’ Ellie asked.

‘Not exactly, my sweet, but you are very … attentive. Why not have yourself a cup of coffee and a nice piece of cake while you’re out. I promise not to move.’

Ellie laughed. ‘Great idea. I’ll get you one of each as well.’

Focused on her medicine mission, Ellie parked the Premier outside the chemist and rushed inside. She went straight to the counter – it was unusually quiet – and handed over the prescription. Dr Bates wasn’t too concerned about Mat’s cold, but Ellie agreed it was best not to take any risks.

‘How is Matilda?’ asked the pharmacist, a woman who’d come to Hope Junction as a graduate, met the love of her life and never left.

‘Good and bad,’ replied Ellie. ‘Her spirits are surprisingly high, but she’s caught a nasty cold. It’s so not fair.’

‘Life never is, is it?’ She offered a sympathetic smile and held up the prescription. ‘Let me fill this for you. Won’t be a moment.’

Ellie nodded and stepped back to wait. She picked up a packet of jellybeans as the signal bell at the door jingled. She glanced up, almost dropping the lollies as she registered the figure of Flynn. Their eyes met for the shortest of seconds before they both quickly looked away. Her cheeks flushed and she moved from the counter to let him step up.

Mere metres away, she stared at the creams, nail polish, glossy mags and hair ribbons in front of her, but later she wouldn’t be able to recall any of it. Every cell in her body wanted to turn back, to soak up the essence of Flynn, to take a snapshot in her mind to go alongside all the others. She racked her brain for something to say, any excuse to start a conversation.

‘Hey.’

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Her heart beating wildly, she took a moment before turning around. ‘Hello,’ she answered eventually. It seemed forever since she’d been this close to Flynn.

He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to do with them. He was still illegally gorgeous, and she still had dangerous thoughts whenever he was near. She squeezed her nails into her palms. It was almost impossible to suppress the instinct to reach out and touch him.

‘How are you doing?’ he asked, making him the first person (aside from Joyce) who’d asked how she was. Everyone else thought first and foremost of Matilda – and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But the fact he’d thought of her caused a lump to form in her throat.

She tried to talk over it. ‘I’m okay.’

He raised his thick blonde eyebrows and shuffled in his shoes. ‘You sure?’

She glanced around to check that no one else was lurking in the chemist. ‘Okay. I’m a mess. Happy now?’

‘Not at all.’ He scratched the side of his neck, stepped towards her and then quickly back again, as if she might infect him with a horrid disease. ‘Is there anything you need?’

Besides you to stop seeing Lauren and pick up where we left that near kiss?
Her cheeks burned at the thought. She couldn’t think about kissing him. Not now.

‘No.’ Talk about awkward. And painful. She glanced at the counter but the pharmacist was still busy fixing Mat’s prescription. When she looked back, Flynn was looking at her funny, his head tipped to one side like a confused puppy.

‘Okay then. But if there is, you can come to me, you know. Mat was like a second mum to me when we were together. If there’s anything I can do for her, or you, I will.’

His words worked to balloon the lump in Ellie’s throat, but then something came over her. Instead of thanking him, which would have been the right thing to do, she snapped,’ And what would your girlfriend say to that?’

He didn’t deny he had a girlfriend. ‘I’m sure Lauren would be quite happy about me helping a friend in need.’

A friend?
Somehow she managed to suppress her snort. If one thing had become perfectly clear over the last few weeks, it was that Flynn had been right that day at the dam. They could never be just friends.

Chapter Twenty-five

‘Are you sure you don’t want to give these to the state library? Or the national one? They’ll get more publicity there than in the local library.’ Ellie closed the lid on the box of manuscripts. She’d taken to helping Matilda sort her stuff with as little emotion as possible, treating it as a task that needed to be done without dwelling on the reason why.

Mat, propped up on the couch by her collection of crazy cushions, shook her head and made to speak, but all she managed was a wheeze and a half cough. She barely had the energy to splutter these days. Forgetting the box, Ellie knelt next to her godmother and took note of her symptoms. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose red and peeling from too much blowing, and her chest hissed like an angry blue-tongue lizard.

‘I’m calling Dr Bates again,’ Ellie announced, rising to her feet. She should have called earlier, she thought to herself, instead of listening to Matilda’s proclamations that she was on the mend.
While she was on the phone in the kitchen, Joyce popped her head in the back door.

‘Morning,’ she sang in her usual cheerful manner.

Ellie gestured to the phone. Joyce closed the door quietly behind her and waited. She listened, her smile dimming as she heard Ellie’s half of the conversation.