The Patterson Girls (48 page)

The kindness of all the students' families had almost made her rethink her decision to go, but then she thought of Nigel and knew if she stayed, she'd be at risk of turning into that crazy stalker ex. Every time she went anywhere she'd be on the lookout for him and all the sights they'd visited together would make her want to cry. Thank God they'd never gotten around to that weekend away in the country, because she liked to think that one day she could come back to Britain and fulfil her castle dream, even if she didn't do so with him.

With another sigh, Abigail glanced at her watch; if she didn't want to miss her flight she needed to get going. She called for a cab because she wasn't going to struggle with all her luggage on the tube and then checked once again that the envelope was in her bag, ready to post at Heathrow Airport.

Although Pamela and Sam knew she was leaving, they'd gone off to work that morning without so much as attempting to knock on her bedroom door and say goodbye. She didn't care; actually, she was pleased. She left her key and final rent payment on the kitchen table without having to make polite small talk about how great they'd been to live with. Because that would have been a big fat lie. How she'd managed to live with their judgemental looks and snide remarks the last few months she had no clue.

As she wheeled her suitcases behind her, her violin case tucked beneath her arm, and maneuvered it all out the front door and down the steps, she tried to garner excitement about seeing her sisters again.

Yet, no matter how great it would be to be back home in the familiar surrounds of the Meadow Brook Motel, eating, drinking and laughing with her family, Abigail couldn't ignore the gaping hole in her heart at the knowledge that leaving London meant never seeing Nigel again.

Chapter Forty-one

Madeleine had all but cleared her desk of her personal possessions when Hugo appeared in the doorway. She glanced up and her insides twisted in the manner they always did when he was around, but her brain quickly shut the response down.

‘What's this I hear about you leaving?' he asked, a slight frown marring his gorgeous features as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

She'd ummed and ahhed about telling him face to face but in the end she'd left it to the hospital grapevine—she didn't owe him an explanation. She'd been scared of what might come out of her mouth if they were alone—recriminations definitely, but also possibly confessions of a love she no longer wanted to feel. He didn't need to know she'd spent the last three years secretly lusting after him, stupidly hoping that one day he'd fall as hard for her as she'd fallen for him.

She was an educated, thirty-five-year-old woman. Her feelings for Hugo were unforgivable.

‘I'm surprised it took you this long to find out,' she spoke evenly, feigning interest in something on her computer screen.

He took a step further into the room and closed her office door behind him. She flinched, unsure whether she could handle being in such close proximity in such a confined space. ‘Everyone probably thought I already knew. We are friends after all.'

Were
friends, she silently corrected. ‘Well, you know now.' She summoned a saccharine smile to her face, the kind she could never abide in other people.

‘When do you leave?'

‘Tomorrow morning.' Although there wasn't much left to pack, she continued the charade of clearing her desk as if she didn't have time for this conversation. She certainly didn't have any enthusiasm for it.

‘What about your patients?' Hugo asked, his tone outraged.

What right did
he
have to be angry at
her
? As if the patients weren't the first thing she'd thought about as soon as she'd disconnected her Skype call from Abigail. Yet, after a few hours agonising about whether leaving was the right thing to do, she'd made her decision. There was nothing left for her in Baltimore. Everyone in her social circle also knew Hugo and Celia, so she couldn't avoid them, and continuing the way things had been was impossible. She needed to take herself out of this unhealthy situation. Her patients wouldn't suffer. There were plenty of other fabulous obstetricians at the hospital, Hugo included. No matter what she now thought of him personally, he was good at his job.

She'd given her manager the necessary four weeks notice and asked if she could take the last three in holiday pay, citing family reasons as the impetus for her sudden departure. Thankfully he hadn't asked any questions.

‘I'm sure some of them will be lucky enough to get you instead,' she said through gritted teeth. Hugo didn't appear to pick up on her sarcasm.

Instead, he pulled out the seat on the other side of her desk and sat. Her skin prickled with the knowledge his feet were mere inches from hers. The physical pull she felt towards him hadn't simply vanished because she wanted it to, which only confirmed that her decision to leave was the right one.

‘I'm sorry.' He sighed, planted his elbows on her desk and folded his hands together as if in prayer.

‘I don't really want to talk about this. Nor do I have the time. I'm leaving in two hours and I want to see my new mums and babies before I go.'

‘Celia feels terrible,' he went on, ignoring her request. ‘She wishes you'd answer her phone calls.'

Madeleine raised an eyebrow. ‘Celia wouldn't like what I had to say if I did. My mum taught me if you haven't got anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all.'

Hugo chuckled. ‘My mom says that too, although I'm not sure she ever listens to her own advice.'

Madeleine glared at him. He was acting so blasé. Sure, he'd attempted a pathetic apology, but if he could laugh when all she felt like doing was slitting someone's throat, then … She shook her head and stood. ‘I've really got to go now. Nice knowing you.'

‘Please, Madeleine, don't be like this.' He raced her to the door and blocked her exit. ‘Celia and I just want to put it all behind us. It was a bad idea to offer you my sperm but that doesn't mean we can't support you as you look for someone else. We've been friends too long to let something like this come between us. Celia and I have decided to adopt and—'

‘Shut up, Hugo!'

She didn't know why he couldn't just leave it. He and Celia hadn't been that good friends if they could have done what they did to her. Was he trying to ease his conscience? Well, too bloody bad because she didn't have the energy to worry about how he and Celia were coping; it was taking all her strength just to hold herself together.

He blinked as if he couldn't believe she'd just yelled at him. That gave her the chance to slip past and open the door. It would have felt good to evict him but she didn't want to risk him prolonging the agony.

So instead, Madeleine took a deep breath, pushed back her shoulders, raised her chin high and went to do her final rounds of the St Joseph's maternity ward.

Chapter Forty-two

‘You girls from round here, then?' asked Abigail and Madeleine's jovial taxi driver as he headed along the Eyre Highway. The guy looked as if he singlehandedly kept FruChocs in business.

That thought made Abigail's mouth water. She hadn't had those chocolate-coated fruit snacks in years, but they were a South Australian speciality and now she was back on home turf she suddenly craved them.

Knowing Madeleine found doing anything—even talking—hard while travelling in a car, Abigail leaned forward from the back seat to reply. ‘Yep, we both grew up in Meadow Brook. Our parents own the motel there.'

‘Ahh …' Their driver drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘I know the place. My wife used to have friends out that way and we occasionally went there for meals. Was always good value.'

‘Who are your wife's friends?' Abigail asked, guessing she'd probably know of them—Meadow Brook wasn't a big place.

In the rear-view mirror Abigail saw the driver's forehead furrow as if he was trying to remember. ‘It's been a while. The couple broke up and my wife was friends with the woman, so we haven't been there in twenty-odd years. What was her name? She lost contact with us when she left her husband. Somebody McDonald I think.'

‘Theresa McDonald.' Madeleine half-laughed, half-snorted. ‘We used to know her too. Her husband Rick is a friend of our father's, and those sons she abandoned are like brothers to us.'

‘Oh.' The driver sounded slightly chastised.

Abigail felt sorry for him. Madeleine's words had sounded like a reprimand but it wasn't this man's fault that Mitch and Macca's mother had left them. ‘The boys are doing really well for themselves,' she said. ‘Macca, the oldest, has a farm and he and his wife have three great little kids. And Mitch is good too. He drives trucks and also makes this amazing furniture. He recently crafted new tables and chairs for the motel's restaurant. I've only seen them on Facebook but they look awesome.'

‘Ah, well, that's great to hear. I always wondered what made Theresa leave. Couldn't understand how she could walk away like that. It's one thing to leave your husband, but to leave two little boys …' As he shook his head, his voice drifted off and he abruptly changed the subject. ‘You girls travelled a long way then?'

‘Yep.' Abigail nodded. ‘I've come from London and my sister from America.'

‘Geez, global travellers. I've got a dream to take my wife round the world one day but we don't seem to manage to save much on a cabbie's income.'

‘You'll get there, I'm sure,' Abigail encouraged. ‘Does your wife work?'

They spent the rest of the journey listening to the taxi driver's life story, Abigail interjecting with occasional comments and Madeleine (Abigail suspected) napping in the front seat. The time went fast and as the driver slowed in front of the Meadow Brook Motel, Madeleine stirred and Abigail felt excitement kick up inside her. Despite the fact that soon everyone would know about her dismissal from the orchestra, she couldn't wait to see her family and be back in the familiar and comforting surrounds of the motel.

‘Thanks for the drive,' Abigail said as she put her hand on the door handle while Madeleine paid their fare. It was six o'clock and dark already but the lights were on inside the restaurant. It was good to see the car park near full, considering the motel had been almost empty at Christmas.

‘No worries, ladies. Nice to meet you. Enjoy your time back home.'

‘We will,' Abigail promised, wondering how long she'd last in the tiny town.

‘Thanks,' Madeleine added as the driver helped them haul their luggage out of the boot.

As the taxi pulled back onto the road, the sisters carried their suitcases and the violin behind them up the front path.

‘Motel or house entrance?' Abigail asked.

Madeleine shrugged, but continued towards the door to reception and Abigail followed. The little bell above the entrance to the motel jingled as Madeleine pushed it open but there was such a din from inside that it was barely audible.

Abigail breathed in the familiar smell that hung perpetually in the motel air; old carpet, beer and overcooked steak. The aroma should have made her turn up her nose, but instead she smiled. It smelt like home and after everything she'd been through lately, she couldn't think of any place she'd rather be.

‘You know, we could check ourselves into a room, grab a good night's sleep and then surprise everyone in the morning,' Madeleine said, looking to Abigail with a cheeky glint in her eyes.

‘Hmm … tempting.' Although the motel beds weren't the comfiest on the planet, Abigail reckoned she'd zonk out the moment her head hit the pillow. Yet she kind of wanted to announce themselves. While she deliberated, the decision was made for them.

Lucinda rushed into reception, grabbed the camera off the desk and was almost gone again when she halted and turned slowly to look at Abigail and Madeleine still standing just inside the door. Her face was flushed as if she'd been in a hot kitchen or run off her feet. When she saw them her mouth fell open and she almost dropped the camera. ‘What … I … What are you two doing here?'

‘Surprise!' Madeleine held her hands up in the air as if she'd just popped out of a birthday cake.

Abigail laughed and rushed forward to grab her stunned sister in an embrace. ‘It's so good to see you.'

Lucinda recovered enough to wrap her arms around Abigail. ‘You too, but … I can't believe it. What are you both doing here? It's not because of me is it? I know my life is a debacle but you haven't come all the way across the world to make me feel better?'

‘As a matter of fact we have,' Madeleine said, a deadpan expression on her face. ‘We've come to tell you all about our disastrous lives, to show you that you are not alone.'

‘Huh?' Lucinda pulled back and glanced from Madeleine to Abigail and back again. ‘
Your
disastrous lives? I'm lost.'

Charlie stormed into reception before either of them had the chance to answer. ‘Lucinda, what's taking you so long? Have you got the camera?' She halted and glanced at the three sisters huddled together like they were visitors from outer space. ‘What's going on?'

‘That,' Madeleine said, ‘is going to take quite a while to explain and I'm thinking we'll need wine. Seems like you guys are a little busy for that right now. What's going on in there?'

‘It's Rosie Jean's fiftieth birthday,' Lucinda replied. ‘Her kids have organised a surprise dinner for her and she has a big family. They've come from all over the country. We're run off our feet. I came in here to get the good camera so I could take a photo for the local paper.'

‘And I came looking for her,' Charlie added.

‘What are you girls doing? Everyone is posed and ready,' came their father's voice just before he appeared in the doorway. He froze and blinked twice, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe his eyes. ‘Madeleine? Abigail?'