Our Kind of Love (33 page)

Julia thought for a moment. ‘Lizzie, this isn’t the same. Me and Ry, you and Dan. We were easy.’

‘Easy?’ Lizzie scoffed.

‘What I mean is, we weren’t married. Joe and Anna have baggage we can’t even begin to understand. Joe’s here for who knows how long. Anna’s life is in Adelaide. They’ve both been cheated on and they’re not even officially divorced from their cheaters. And, to top it all off, they probably want to run a mile from anyone who might break their heart again.’

Lizzie slumped back on the sofa. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. I see why you’re so good at your job.’

‘Sometimes it’s a curse to always see the glass half empty.’

‘Will you promise me one thing, Jools? Will your keep an eye out for Joe?’

‘Of course I will. He’s like a big brother to me too, you know. Now go, have a wonderful time in Europe. Enjoy some alone time with your man.’

Lizzie hopped to her feet and strolled to the door. When she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder with a knowing smile.

‘Oh, I will. Especially now that we’re engaged.’

Lizzie wished she could tell Julia again so she could see that look on her face one more time. She didn’t seem to care that her laptop crashed to the floor as she jumped to her feet.

Lizzie met her halfway and they hugged and laughed. ‘It’s just happened. It’s still a secret but I wanted to tell you. We’ll celebrate when we get back.’

‘Damn right we will. Bon voyage!’

Joe absentmindedly wiped the heavy wooden front bar and tried not to let his head drift off into la la land. It was almost the end of his shift and since Lizzie had left for her holiday, it had been busier than ever. By his calculation, everyone in town had stopped by to see how Lizzie’s big brother from Sydney was coping. She was such a fixture in the place that they were right to wonder if it might all fall apart without her. But he and the other staff were holding it together. Reg and Shorty weren’t so sure and took great enjoyment in watching everything he did and offering commentary.

‘Mate, there’s too much head on that beer,’ Reg said with barely disguised comedic contempt in his tone. He adjusted his flat cap.

‘You just can’t get good help these days,’ Shorty said with a shake of his head.

‘Back in my day if someone served you a beer like that, they’d give you a fresh one and then another one to make up for it.’

‘Good try, Reg,’ Joe said. ‘You think I came down in the last shower?’ He placed a beer on front of the old coot. ‘On the house.’

He left the two blokes arguing over who should drink it and looked up to the old carriage clock on the wall behind the front bar. It was almost time to go home. Time to go home and spend too much time trying not to think about his life. Lizzie and Dan had been gone a week already and he was still thinking through what it meant for him that she and Dan were going to be living together in Dan’s green beach shack. The house Lizzie usually lived in was already half his; their mother had left it to both of them when she’d died. But it wasn’t the legalities of the ownership he was worried about.

It was a bigger question. Did he want it? Did he want to stay?

The walk home along the esplanade, in the fading light of the late afternoon, reminded him what winter was really like in this place. Quiet to the point of slumber, as wet as a Sydney spring, cold and windswept. He’d loved it as a kid, but hated it as a teenager. Now, as an adult? It was growing on him, to tell the truth. The two alternatives in his head – Sydney or Middle Point – continued to fight with each other. Maybe he’d been away from the adrenaline buzz and cut-throat competition of Sydney for enough time to break the habit of wanting it.

He pushed open his front door, crossed the carpeted room and sat down on the sofa, his head too full of thinking to feel like eating anything. He looked around at the ode to shabby beach chic that Lizzie had created for herself. It wasn’t a bad house. There was a nice deck out the front from which he’d lately been observing the life and times of upper Middle Point. He couldn’t complain about the neighbours; it hadn’t been a chore to spend time with Harri.

And it wasn’t because it wasn’t Sydney, but it felt empty. And lonely. Maybe that was the legacy of this house. That it was the place for broken hearts to find a place, a safe haven, a salvation. Joe lifted his feet onto the coffee table, still strewn with the outspread pages of the local newspaper.

He couldn’t think about Anna anymore, what might have been. They wanted what they wanted, and it wasn’t the same thing. But he couldn’t shake the knowledge that she would have filled this house with life.

But that was over.

Five minutes after her final patient of the day, Anna had bolted from work and sped off in her car to make an urgent pit stop at the supermarket near her surgery. Her regular place, a supermarket with so many aisles you needed a street directory to find the milk, was just that little bit too far away today so she was in her small local. She hadn’t shopped there for years, having learnt the hard way that it turned grocery shopping into a marathon that could take hours because she would inevitably run into patients who always seemed surprised that Dr Morelli had to buy toilet paper and juice like everyone else.

Anna wrangled the shopping trolley and cursed its inventor, giving it an extra hard shove through the automatic doors of the supermarket and knowing it was just her luck to pick the one with the wonkiest wheels. As she veered it through the fruit and veg and into the condiments aisle, she cursed it again. And why the hell did she need a trolley anyway? Old habits were hard to kick. A hand basket would have been plenty big enough for the meagre things she needed. When she and Alex were still together, she’d taken great joy in shopping and preparing great feasts for their friends and his colleagues. It was the Italian in her he always used to say.

The last time she’d cooked like that was for her friends down at Middle Point. And yes, that’s how she thought of them now. Julia and Ry, Dan and Lizzie. They were becoming her friends and she liked that. And Joe? Well, who knew what the hell Joe was now. A detour on the way to her new life, maybe. Someone who’d helped her navigate being suddenly single. Her surf instructor. A friend. A man from Sydney she’d known once. And still missed everyday.

‘Oops. Sorry.’ She smiled apologetically to an old man across the aisle as her trolley ran into his.

‘Damn trolleys,’ he smiled and winked at her. Anna’s heart broke just a little at the thought that the only men who flirted with her now were the over seventy-fives.

She had to get out of here. She wasn’t in the mood for shopping. Come to think of it, she hadn’t felt in the mood to do much of anything. But an Italian girl had to eat and if she lost even one pound her mother would be praying to Jesus and nagging her to death with
mangia, mangia mangia
.

‘Dr Morelli?’

Anna turned at the sound of a croaky older woman’s voice. It was Señora Rossi, dressed in black from turtleneck to shoes, her thin grey hair pulled back into a tight bun and a shocked expression adorning her well-lived-in face.

‘
Ciao, Señora
.’

The old lady inched her way to Anna, pulling her trolley backwards, and reached out with thin fingers, resting her hand weightlessly on Anna’s forearm.

‘Thank God you’re here,’ she said in Italian.

Anna was taken aback. ‘Is everything all right?’ she answered back just as fluently.

‘Oh, I’m healthy, for now. The ladies at the Italian Club have been talking.’

Anna’s jaw tightened. Had her imploded marriage and sex life the subject of discussion with
every
retired Italian in the north-eastern suburbs? Of course it had.

Needing its reassurance, one of her hands flew to her throat, groping inside the soft linen collar of her shirt for St Christopher.

‘Anna.’ The old woman’s voice dropped to an Italian whisper. Which still meant shouting to other people. ‘They said you were leaving us. Because of … your husband. Closing up the doctor’s office. Going to work somewhere else. Leaving all your patients behind.’ The old woman clutched her other hand to her heart. ‘I told them – no, that can’t be true. How could you leave without telling us? I told them – Dr Morelli would never do that.’

Anna’s mind was totally befuddled. ‘I don’t know why people are saying that,
Señora
.’

‘At Easter, you weren’t there. And then you took a holiday just last week.’

A holiday? She’d spent the day in bed with gastro.

‘I’m not going anywhere,
Señora
. Don’t worry.’

‘I told them. Paulo and Sonia’s daughter would never leave us. She’s our doctor.’ The older woman’s eyes grew moist and Anna couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss her. It was more than having a doctor they knew, one familiar with their conditions and their families and their miseries. It was having someone who understood their language and their culture, too. That couldn’t be replaced.

‘You tell those ladies at the club that they’re wrong. If they have so much time on their hands to gossip and make mischief, maybe they can spend it finding Graciella a husband, hey?’

‘A husband for Graciella?’ Señora Rossi said with a croaky voice and the twinkle in her eyes returned. ‘She wants a husband?’

‘Doesn’t every single girl?’

The old woman leaned in to give Anna a kiss on each cheek. ‘Bless you, Anna.’

Anna kept the smile on her face until the old lady turned a corner into the next aisle.

I’m not going anywhere
. Her words echoed in her head. Wasn’t that the damn truth.

CHAPTER
39

‘Morning Graciella,’ Anna called as she walked through the rear door of her surgery, her high heels clicking on the terrazzo floor. ‘What’s the day like?’

‘Crazy as usual,’ her sister called back, ‘And your first patient is already here.’

Anna found Grace at the reception desk, wide-eyed and nodding towards the waiting area. Anna could see it was still only 8.30 a.m., and they never scheduled patients before nine.

She followed Grace’s line of sight. It was Julia, looking pale and scared.

Anna summoned her calm. It was never a good look to show panic no matter how much a patients anxious stare and trembling bottom lip sent every nerve ending on red alert.

‘Hi Julia.’ Anna stood in the doorway, her fingers clenched inside the pockets of her coat, her huge handbag still slung over her shoulder. ‘Won’t you come in to my office? Can we get you a glass of water or peppermint tea?’ Julia stood unsteadily and reached for Anna’s arm. Her fingers on it were like a vice.

‘Anna, something’s wrong,’ she whispered.

‘Okay.’

Anna closed the surgery door behind her and helped Julia up onto the examination table. ‘Tell me what’s been happening.’

Julia lay down slowly and covered her eyes with a forearm. ‘We came up yesterday and I’m supposed to be heading home this morning. The thing is, I haven’t felt the baby kicking. I’m having a bit of a panic and I needed to see you, to make sure everything’s okay. I’m sorry for barging in on you like this, Anna, but I didn’t know what to do.’

Anna held her hand, noticed it was clammy. ‘You know my rule. Anytime, anywhere. You call me or come here or I’ll come to you. Now, start from the beginning.’

As Julia talked, Anna lifted her loose maternity top to reveal her belly. It was beautifully round and swelled and perfect. Anna’s heart crumpled. She worked so hard to keep every emotion about her own childlessness behind the Berlin Wall she’d erected in her heart. It was the only way she could cope with all the pregnant women and babies and new mums who waddled into her surgery day after day. No one would ever know how hard it was to make it look so easy.

Anna pressed gently on Julia’s stomach, feeling a back, a head and feet. She took her blood pressure and her pulse, and checked the baby’s heartbeat. It was fast and strong, exactly as it should be.

‘Everything seems fine to me. Your blood pressure is fine. When did you last feel the baby kick?’

‘A few days ago it was kicking like an AFL footballer. But I haven’t felt anything for a few days’.

Anna smoothed Julia’s shirt over her belly and held out her hand to grip Julia’s forearm and pull her to sitting. ‘We’ll keep an eye on things, but please don’t worry. Everything seems completely normal.’

Julia slipped off the table and stood, propping a hand at her lower back. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. But you know what to do, don’t you, if anything worries you. Call me. And if it happens quickly, call me on the way to hospital. Got it?’

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Anna.’ Julia hugged her.

‘Say hello to that husband of yours.’

‘I will.’

‘Have you heard from Dan and Lizzie? Where are they?’

‘Lizzie’s last post on Facebook was from Paris. They’ll be home in a couple of weeks. Don’t forget the welcome home party.’

Anna found a sad smile. What could she say? Going back to Middle Point meant seeing Joe, and thinking about him was hard enough. ‘We’ll see.’ She opened the surgery door and ushered Julia through to the reception area. Grace was busy on a call and Julia turned back to Anna, took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.