Jilted (7 page)

She pasted what was no doubt a less than believable smile on her face and looked apologetically into the face of the woman checking her over. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said, extracting her hand and
straightening her ponytail. ‘I’m fine. I don’t know what happened, but I’m really fine now. I don’t need to go to hospital.’

The other, more butch-looking ambulance officer leaned down and butted in. ‘It’s policy. We have to take you in and have a doctor check you over.’

‘No.’ No way in hell was she going back to that pokey small-town hospital and risking another run-in with Lauren. She could only imagine what would happen if she were admitted into that woman’s care. ‘I said I’m fine and I am. You can’t force me to go.’

‘She does seem fine,’ stated the first officer.

While the two of them discussed protocol and common sense, and the service station owner added his opinion, Ellie flexed her feet and pushed herself up into a stand. Although still shaky, she had every confidence her legs were back in the game. Monitoring her breathing, she trekked slowly around the shop, grabbing chocolates, a big bottle of Fanta, packets of chips, two types of milk and a loaf of white bread. The pickings were slim at the Shell and the prices exorbitant, but she needed to get out of there quickly, with enough provisions to avoid coming back too soon. Tomorrow she’d worry about a bigger shop, although how she’d make it round the Co-op without having an actual heart attack, she had no idea.

‘You sure you shouldn’t get properly checked out?’ asked the shop assistant as she scanned Ellie’s purchases through the till. The young woman looked genuinely concerned. Ellie didn’t recognise her and judging by her attitude, she deduced that the girl couldn’t have been a resident of Hope very long.

‘Thanks for your concern, but I just had a shock.’

The girl looked at her quizzically but she wasn’t about to start discussing her sordid past with a stranger. No doubt the town gossips would fight to fill her in. Instead, Ellie handed over a fifty-dollar note.

The act of selecting and purchasing items seemed to convince
the ambulance folk she was, in fact, physically fine. So, wanting to get this whole sorry episode over quickly, Ellie filled in her details and signed the release.

When Ellie returned to the house, Matilda – sitting in an armchair in the living room – threw her arms up theatrically. ‘You’ve been gone an age. I was about to organise a search party.’

‘Sorry.’ She walked through to the kitchen and began unloading the sparse supplies. Inwardly she laughed at the idea that anyone in this godforsaken town would give up their Sunday to search for her.

‘I almost called the police,’ Matilda continued, her shrill voice carrying down the short hallway.

‘Thank God you didn’t,’ Ellie called back. ‘I’ve had my fill of emergency services today.’

‘You’ve what?’ There was a short silence and then a shuffle. Ellie could hear Matilda reaching for her crutches and knew she was trying to stand up.

‘Stay there!’ she roared. ‘I’ll get us a drink and makeshift breakfast, and then I’ll fill you in.’
On everything
, she added silently. It was time.

She took her time making the coffee and cooking the toast. She even cut each slice into little triangles, laid them decoratively on the plate and loaded it all onto an elaborate tray Mat had brought back from Mexico a few years ago. When she finally entered the living room, Matilda was leaning forward in the chair, her body tense, the expression on her face desperately curious.

‘What happened?’

‘I ran into Flynn.’ Ellie’s tone suggested this was an everyday occurrence. She handed Mat her mug, then placed the toast on the little coffee table, positioning it within both their reach.

‘Oh.’ For once Matilda seemed short of words. Then, eventually, ‘Dare I ask?’

Ellie flopped into the armchair opposite. ‘It was a complete debacle. He looked like he wanted to vomit at the sight of me and I almost fainted.’ She laughed a little hysterically. ‘Someone called an ambulance.’

‘You’ve been to the hospital?’

She shook her head. ‘I refused to go.’

Matilda waved an arm in front of her face. ‘Who cares about the hospital, I want to know about Flynn.’

Ellie tried in vain to keep her hands and voice steady as she sipped her drink and filled Mat in on the events of the morning. Yet with every mention of Flynn the effort became all the more impossible.

‘My poor girl,’ Matilda said, gesturing to the tissue box on the table. ‘You’ve held it in far too long. It’s time to let it out.’

‘I’m fine.’ Ellie shoved the box and it plopped onto the floor. That got a sceptical smile and a brow lift from Matilda. ‘I am,’ she insisted. ‘If I hadn’t seen the dress, I wouldn’t have been in such a soppy and sentimental mood when I ran into him. It’s not like I didn’t know it was going to happen sooner or later.’ She paused to collect herself. ‘Why did you keep it?’

‘It wasn’t mine to throw away.’

‘No, I know, but … but …’ But what? She’d always assumed Matilda would have given it to the Salvos or something.

‘At first I left it there because I thought you’d be back. You were so in love with him, no one was more surprised than me when you ran off like that. I knew you better than everyone, aside from Flynn, and he never suspected a problem. He was a wreck. So I was sure you’d be back.’

A familiar guilt gnawed at Ellie’s heart and she rested her hand against her stomach. Nausea was the standard reaction whenever she thought of what she’d done to Flynn. She did her best to live her life in denial but occasionally – usually on lonely weekends,
when all she had was the company of bad black-and-white movies on the telly – her thoughts turned to him. More than once she’d been physically sick.

‘Then,’ continued Matilda, ‘by the time it became clear you’d made a life for yourself without him, the dress had been there so long. It probably sounds silly, but it made me feel closer to you. You were never as happy as the day you tried on that dress. Sometimes I’d come into the room, look at the dress and wonder if there was anything I could have done.’

‘No,’ Ellie rushed, ‘none of this was your fault.’ The last thing she needed was for Matilda, who had always been there for her no matter what, to feel guilty as well. So many times she’d almost spilled her heart out to Mat, but she’d never quite been able to find the words. Mat loved and trusted her more than anyone, so Ellie had been scared. Scared that Mat would think of her differently if she knew. ‘I don’t want you to ever –’

Matilda held up her hand to silence Ellie. ‘I need to say this. The years passed and you made no mention of coming back. I meant to clean out your room, I really did, but you know what I’m like with my own clutter, I couldn’t bear to sort and make decisions about yours. I’m sorry, I should have gotten rid of that dress, but something I can’t really explain stopped me.’

‘It’s okay.’ Ellie’s reply was a mere whisper. All choked up, she thought about the crumpled dress in the bottom of the wardrobe. What the hell should she do with it? ‘I understand,’ she continued, ‘but I want you to know that none of what happened is your fault. If anyone besides me is to blame – for leaving, for staying away all these years – it’s my despicable excuse for a mother.’

‘Your mother?’ Matilda looked baffled. ‘I didn’t know you two were in touch. I thought the last time you saw Rhiannon was in Perth, just before your …’

Ellie knew she was about to say wedding. She shook her head and set her friend straight. ‘She never turned up.’

Matilda’s mouth dropped open like a sideshow clown and her eyes grew cold. ‘But I don’t understand. You told me you spent the weekend in the city together, that she apologised profusely about not being able to make it to your wedding. I wanted to hunt her down, give her what for about missing the most important day of your life.’

‘All lies,’ Ellie admitted. ‘I guess I felt like an idiot for thinking she’d care enough to meet up with me, and I wanted you all to think that she did. When she didn’t show, I waited in the bar for five hours, treating myself to cocktails to cheer up. I got quite drunk.’ That was a massive understatement.

In the next hour or so, Ellie spilled the truth about what had happened that awful weekend in Perth. She left nothing out. She cried a lot. And so did Matilda, who cursed herself for not being there for Ellie when she’d needed her support. But not once did Matilda make her feel any less of a person for her mistakes. She didn’t pass judgement or even make many comments until the end, when Ellie said, ‘So you see how I couldn’t tell Flynn? He’d have hated me.’

Matilda frowned slightly. ‘I don’t see anything of the sort. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my life, it’s to never presume what another person thinks, or how they’ll react in a certain situation.’

‘I suppose.’ But the truth was, Ellie couldn’t have coped with seeing the hurt and disappointment in Flynn’s eyes if she had stayed to face her problems.

‘Personally,’ Mat said, ‘and this is just my opinion, because as I said, I don’t know the inside of Flynn’s head, but I think he would rather have had you – and whatever came with that – than lose you. He made some bad choices himself after you left.’

Ellie’s head shot up from where it had been staring down into her lap and a fist full of tissues. ‘What kind of bad choices?’

Ellie woke on Monday morning feeling utterly drained. The past couple of days had been exhausting – physically, mentally and emotionally. And she’d be a fool to think the worst was over.

Her guilt had trebled when she heard that for two years after she left, Flynn had gone on a wild bender, becoming best friends with bottles of Jim Beam. And then his dad, Cyril, had been killed in a freak accident on the farm. She could only imagine the pain the Quartermaines would have felt at that deep loss. Flynn and Cyril had disagreed about some aspects of running the farm, and Cyril had been reluctant to take on a few of Flynn’s ideas, but mostly, father and son had been great mates. In a somewhat bittersweet turnaround, though, it was his father’s death that pulled Flynn out of his self-destructive spiral. Where many turn to alcohol in times of mourning, Cyril’s passing shook Flynn enough that he went completely dry. Ellie felt so relieved when Matilda told her that Flynn had reformed, but she couldn’t ignore the painful truth. If she hadn’t run away, he’d never have gone there in the first place.

Matilda believed the only way for Ellie to truly move on was for her to sit down with Flynn and tell him everything. She shuddered at the thought. Quite aside from the fact that pinning Flynn down would prove a mammoth task, she was scared that in telling him the truth, she risked bringing back hurtful memories for him. Sure, it might get some of the heaviness off
her
chest, but she couldn’t jeopardise his wellbeing simply to clear her conscience.

Bottom line was, she’d never stopped loving him. Seeing him yesterday had made that clear. And what was that old saying? If you loved something you let it go? She reckoned that included not rehashing the painful past.

Her decision made, she climbed out of bed, washed and dressed quickly, and then set to some housework. Matilda rose too and
grumbled about being constrained by her cast, so Ellie gave her the important job of drafting the shopping list.

‘Leave nothing you desire off that list,’ Ellie instructed. ‘I do not want to be traipsing down to the Co-op every day for something we’ve forgotten.’

Just when Ellie thought the house was sparkling so much she couldn’t put off the shopping expedition any longer, the doorbell – a yodelling one that Matilda bought on a trip to Austria – sang out.

‘That’ll be my friend Joyce,’ Matilda announced, a beaming smile filling her face. ‘She’s going to be your chaperone.’

‘Chaperone?’ Ellie raised a brow while racking her brain for memories of Joyce.

‘You haven’t met,’ said Matilda, reading her mind. ‘She and her hubby, Howard, moved here three years ago when they bought the caravan park. Howard died last year but Joyce is a hoot, you’ll love her.’

Joyce let herself in. ‘Everyone adores me.’

Ellie looked at the fire-engine redhead. Her first thought was that she’d never seen a female built in quite such a … strong way. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect bodyguard. She smiled. ‘Well, shopping with me will soon change that.
Nobody
adores me.’

Joyce hooted with laughter. ‘I love her already.’

After ensuring Mat had everything within arm’s reach, Joyce and Ellie set off in the Premier.

‘Mat phoned me last night,’ Joyce announced as she clicked in her seatbelt. ‘She didn’t tell me why you left the Quartermaine boy at the altar, but she said you have your reasons. I want you to know Mat’s word is good enough for me.’

Ellie’s mood plummeted at the idea that Matilda might have told Joyce more, and nausea set in at the thought of Joyce flapping her mouth about town, of Flynn hearing it all on the grapevine. But
she quickly relaxed, knowing her godmother would never break her confidence.

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it. Mat’s had a lot on her plate recently. She’s so happy you’re here but doesn’t want you being crucified just because she needs you. She wanted someone else in your corner.’ Joyce’s voice was serious in a way Ellie hadn’t thought possible, judging by her brassy manner back at the cottage. ‘And I want you to know, I’m in your corner.’

An alien lump formed in Ellie’s throat. She couldn’t quite get another thanks past it.

‘We all make mistakes,’ continued Joyce, ‘and I don’t believe in beating oneself up about them. But that’s your business. If you want to talk, I won’t tell a soul your secret, but neither will I press you about it. I just want you to know.’

‘Okay. I appreciate that.’ Ellie stared ahead at the road. She didn’t really want to make small talk but she didn’t want silence right now either. Besides, she wouldn’t mind deflecting the attention from herself. ‘So, what do you think of Hope? Do you like running the caravan park?’

‘Love it. I’m a social butterfly so I adore meeting all the people that come through. And I find the dynamics of small-town life fascinating.’