Standing Strong (36 page)

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Authors: Fiona McCallum

BOOK: Standing Strong
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Damien wondered if he'd ever stop missing his dad. He was feeling it more since he'd discovered so much more about the man and felt a deeper connection to him. He wondered how Lucy fared – they'd been especially close. But he didn't want to go there while things were so good.

Chapter Thirty-four

Jacqueline woke up feeling lost and lonely. She'd been okay while she'd had the weekly routine to focus on, but now it was Saturday morning and she was on her own, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She knew when she dragged herself out of bed that the house would feel too big and too empty.

She forced herself up. She went through the motions of preparing bacon and eggs for breakfast, more to pass some time than any great hunger. All the while she kept pushing the thought of ‘then what?' to the back of her mind. If she was in the city, she might have taken herself off to the cinema to watch two movies in a row. The thought of curling up on the couch for pot luck with whatever was on the TV didn't hold the same allure. Nor did watching one of her DVDs. Her collection mainly consisted of movies featuring Julia Roberts, Hugh Grant and Colin Firth, but she was trying to forget how crap her life had become so the last thing she needed was to be reminded of what she was missing with Damien. The way she was feeling there was no way she'd settle into reading a book either. She wished she'd arranged to catch up with Louise or Cecile, but she'd really thought she'd enjoy spending the day alone, pottering around the house.

After breakfast she forced herself to shower and dress. Then she grabbed her car keys. She'd get in the car, turn up the radio, and just drive – see where her meandering took her. As she left the house, she looked across the road and paused. Ethel's car was in her driveway. Maybe she could… No, it was time she started fending for herself. She would entertain herself. Yes, she could do this.

Left or right? Jacqueline asked herself as she looked both ways at the end of her street. She found herself turning left and then making her way to the lookout Paul had taken her to. She hadn't heard from him. A part of her was a little disappointed; another part told her it hadn't been that long since she'd seen him. The days seemed to drag by excruciatingly slowly while she waited for news from the board about her career. Anyway, she was glad he hadn't made a move on her, wasn't she? She was waiting for Damien. Wasn't she?

She cringed at her new car bumping and shuddering its way up the winding gravel road to the lookout, but reminded herself it was only a car. Once she'd parked, she took in the view and felt a peacefulness sweep through her. She let out a sigh. It really was a lovely spot. It wasn't so clear today, but she could still make out the huge white grain silos beside Pigeon Bay. Maybe she should drive down and see if Paul was there, surfing. A few hours in the water trying to master standing on the board would chase away her boredom and keep the demons at bay. And the exercise would ensure she slept well that night.

No. Paul would have called her if he was interested in seeing her. To contact him would sound desperate. And she didn't want him getting the wrong idea, did she?

‘Not going there,' she said aloud, and turned the key in the ignition to start the car again.

At the end of the lookout road, she decided she'd check out Hope Springs. She'd only driven through the day she'd arrived and everything had been shut the evening she'd gone over there with Ethel to do her talk. But she wouldn't turn right to go back through Wattle Creek and risk talking herself into going home and resuming her moping, she'd head left and see if she could find a back way. She didn't have a map, but she knew what general direction the town was in. And she had a phone – if she got completely lost she could call Ethel. Not knowing exactly where she was going would keep her mind sharp and occupied.

‘Let's go on a little adventure,' she told her car. She really needed to give it a name. She hadn't named the previous one, but she hadn't felt so connected with it as she did this one, most likely because she was feeling so unsettled and the little vehicle was providing so much comfort.

She cursed again when she ran out of sealed road. She found herself apologising for the rough road she was taking the car on, and then laughed at her ridiculousness. She must have been under so much pressure lately she was becoming completely unhinged. She drove, lost in her thoughts, looking at where the sun was every time she came to an intersection and letting that guide her. She was banking on Hope Springs being pretty much due east of Wattle Creek and figured if she came at it from the north, she couldn't miss it. She almost laughed – thinking that almost guaranteed she would miss it, which reminded her of Paul giving her directions to Charity Flat. For a split second she considered changing course and heading there instead, but reminded herself she'd already decided she was not going to spend her day hunting Paul down and behaving like a crazed stalker. She was supposed to be a professional, a psychologist, for Christ's sake!

She took it very slowly on the dirt and several times was passed by utes that left her in clouds of dust so thick she had to slow to a crawl while it settled.

It felt like she'd been driving for hours when she finally saw the outskirts of town in the distance. She'd done it!

She parked in the bare area under the trees just as Ethel had done and made her way to the art gallery.

‘Hi there. Jacqueline isn't it?' asked the lady on the desk, looking up from her knitting.

‘Hello. Yes, hi,' she said, smiling.

‘I'm Bev. Welcome. All pieces have been done by our local art group, and are for sale,' she said proudly. ‘Mine are the beanies and socks over there,' she said, sounding even more proud, and pointed over Jacqueline's right shoulder. ‘We call ourselves an art group, but we do all sorts. Though, really, what isn't art? That's a bit too deep a question for a Saturday, isn't it?' Bev added with a tilt to her head. ‘Oh, yes, far too deep.' She let out a hearty laugh.

‘Yes, yes it is a bit,' Jacqueline agreed, also laughing.

‘If you'd like to join the Hope Springs Art Group, new members are more than welcome. Oh, but we meet on the first Wednesday of every month so that wouldn't suit you with working full-time, would it?'

‘No, it wouldn't. And anyway, I don't have an artistic bone in my body,' Jacqueline said.

‘As you'll see when I stop nattering and let you browse, there's no criteria for exhibiting and none whatsoever for joining. We pride ourselves on being inclusive and, above all, sociable. Some members have bucketloads of talent, like Tracey over there.' Jacqueline turned to look where Bev was pointing. On the far wall was a series of paintings of animals. ‘And then there are those, like myself, who have absolutely zero creative ability and attend meetings purely for a natter and to escape our husbands. Oops, did I say that out loud? Let's just say suddenly having my Joe under my feet all day thanks to retirement isn't all it's cracked up to be, and leave it at that. We have some male members and men are always very welcome,' she said demurely. ‘Enough from me, you enjoy a wander.'

Jacqueline smiled warmly at Bev before moving away. On the whole she did enjoy her wander, which ranged from exquisite paintings and pottery she thought wouldn't be out of place in a city gallery to pieces she couldn't for the life of her interpret. Regardless, it was nice to look, and at least the wondering was distracting her and passing some time. And, it was really nice to see a friendly face and be welcomed so warmly. She felt terrible that she hadn't seen anything she really wanted to buy. One piece – a charcoal drawing of a seagull – she'd half considered, but until she knew what was happening with her job, she felt she really needed to save her money. If she lost her registration, a pay cut would almost certainly be on the cards. She couldn't go buying something just to make herself and Bev on the desk feel better.

‘Thanks very much, Bev, that was lovely,' she said as she left.

‘You're very welcome. We change the exhibition every month or so, so come back again. Actually, do you mind if we put your name on our list for invitations to openings? It's always a nice evening out.'

‘Thanks, that would be lovely.'

Jacqueline couldn't resist going into the newsagent-slash-takeaway shop to order a milkshake, though she'd take it back to the car. She'd never enjoyed sitting on her own in public to eat, and the place was busy. People nodded in a friendly fashion to her as they came and went. Some seemed a little familiar, but she wasn't sure if they actually recognised her or they were acknowledging her just because.

Finally the place emptied and she was next to be served.

‘Hello, Ms Havelock, isn't it?' said the same man who'd served her the last time. ‘Ethel not with you today?'

‘Yes, but call me Jacqueline. And, no, I'm on my own today. And you're Owen, aren't you?' she said, his name suddenly coming to her.

‘I certainly am. You've got a good memory.'

‘Not as good as yours, I'm sure,' she said, smiling.

‘So, same as last time – chocolate milkshake with the lot?' he asked, beaming.

‘Yes, that would be lovely, thank you. To take away, thanks.'

When Owen handed over the tall cardboard cup, she paid, thanked him, and made her way out, thinking how good it felt to have people remember her. As she put her hand out to open the door, it opened, almost upending her drink. She grappled to keep her milkshake from spilling before looking up and being startled to find herself staring up into the eyes of none other than Paul Reynolds.

‘Sorry, are you okay?' he asked.

‘Yes, perfectly fine, I think,' she said, looking down at her milkshake.

‘So it seems the tables have turned and it's now me trying to tip food over you,' he said jovially, grinning at her. ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry, anyway?'

‘The car,' she said a little sheepishly.

‘Are you on your own?'

‘Yes, just having a day out, wandering around, seeing where the car takes me,' she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

‘Fancy some company?'

Would I ever!
‘Sounds great. Would you like to stay here or go somewhere else?'

‘It's too nice a day to be inside. There's a lovely shady spot under the tree in front of the pub near the boat ramp. I only came in for the paper, but now I've seen that milkshake, I can't resist. I haven't had one for years,' he added, and strode to the counter. Jacqueline went to the small table where she'd sat with Ethel to wait.

‘Caramel milkshake with the works to take away, thanks, Owen,' Paul said.

Soon they were sitting side by side on a bench under a sprawling Norfolk Island pine, sipping on their drinks and watching the comings and goings at the boat ramp.

‘Sorry I haven't been in touch,' Paul said. ‘I've been caught up with work – there's a mass sell-off of stock at the moment so it's been more hectic than usual. I know I've said it before, but you really were fantastic – a real hit.'

‘Thanks, that's lovely of you to say. Though you don't have to sound so surprised,' she said.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to, it's just that sometimes newcomers, especially professional services, can be treated with a bit of suspicion. Any surprise you're sensing is not about you, it's about the fact that you were so well received. But the fire was the first loss of a house in nearly twenty years, so it's got everyone spooked.'

‘It's okay, I was just teasing.'

‘Fair enough. So how's everything going with your, um, problem? Any news yet?'

‘No.'

‘That must be doing your head in.'

‘Yup. Hence me driving miles just for a milkshake. Actually, it's worse than that. I was keen to go anywhere. To be honest, I couldn't bear to be in the house. Mum and Dad have gone home. Not that I'm not used to being on my own. Normally I quite like it, it's just that …'
Shut up, stop rambling, Jacqueline
.

‘It's okay, I get it. I hope it'll all be resolved soon – and with a good outcome.'

‘I have my fingers crossed. Meanwhile I'm just trying to keep busy. The weekend sort of took me by surprise, to be honest.'

‘I can imagine. Hey, we've taken up your suggestion and are looking into doing a community project, putting people's documents and photos in the cloud, just like you suggested. The council thinks there might be a grant we can get.'

‘That's fantastic.' It felt really good to have been helpful in a truly practical sense. She was a little shocked by her next thought:
God I wish I could share this with Damien
. She wondered how his day with Lucy was going. The fact that he'd barely ever mentioned his sister told her they weren't close. Perhaps they'd become closer now things were so up in the air with Tina.

‘So how are you going to keep yourself busy tomorrow? Fancy seeing if there are a few small waves? I haven't decided if I'll go down or not, but I definitely will if you'll come,' Paul said.

‘Oh. That would be lovely, but I think I'd better clean the house.'

‘Is that the royal brushoff, like “Sorry, but I have to wash my hair”?'

‘No, I really do have to clean the house.'
Liar!
The truth was that thinking about Damien made her feel guilty about enjoying time with Paul. She cringed at feeling herself blush.

‘I don't believe you, but it's okay. You're going through something big. As you said in your talk, you have to be kind to yourself at a time like this. Please don't feel pressured by me. But if you want to use me as a distraction or you just fancy a chat, you have my number.'

‘Thanks, it really does mean a lot. And it really was great to see you.'
You've completely made my day
.

‘Well, I'd better keep going. I've still got another client in the area to see.'

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