An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden (18 page)

“Then why don't you do the same?” Unable to prevent himself, Evan smashed his fist into Morcombe's jaw, a lightning-swift punch that made Morcombe's head snap sharply to one side. He staggered backwards, then collapsed. Beaten.

“Laura?” Feeling the cold hand of horror, Evan rushed to her, his body suddenly bathed in a cold sweat. He dropped to his knees, feeling for her pulse. Slow. The bastard had drugged her. He caught a whiff of something. Ether? My God! Clearly Morcombe had gone over the edge with his obsession for his wife. Her shirt was torn, buttons ripped away.

“Laura, Laura,” he whispered in agony, and was heartened beyond belief to hear a tiny moan come from her lips. She was coming round. Having seen so much violence, his aversion to it was on record. But he felt like reducing Morcombe the wife-beater to pulp.

Tenderly Evan got his arms beneath Laura, lifting her from the floor. Clever, observant Harriet! Her hunch, premonition—whatever had got him back. It would take a lifetime to thank her. He placed Laura on the sofa, rubbing both her hands. The front door was still open, so there was plenty of fresh air streaming through the door,

“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl!” She looked especially small, and now he could see clearly that she had abrasions on her cheek and the beginnings of a black eye.

That did it. He stood up precipitately, his back towards where he had left Morcombe lying. He took one blow after another as Morcombe recovered and whirred into action.

“God damn you to hell!” Evan swung around, outraged, not even feeling the punches. Morcombe had picked the wrong man. He was only dangerous to women. Yet there was
madness in those artic blue eyes. And in the midst of his fury Evan felt tremendous shock Morcombe, a skilled surgeon, had chosen this way.

Though her vision was blurry Laura saw her husband's attack on Evan. She didn't stop to marvel why Evan was there. He just was. An answer to her prayers. She wobbled up, staggered badly, almost fell over but righted her balance, telling herself to go,
go
, to Evan's rescue.

“I'm coming!” she shouted, or she thought she shouted. There was a strange underwater sensation in her ears.

Hearing her dazed voice, Evan slowed down his systematic pummelling, twisting his head to her. “Laura, go back. Phone the police if you can.”

Given such a welcome distraction, Colin didn't hesitate to land a few more blows on his powerful opponent. He had never imagined himself in a fist fight with another man. As unpleasant as hell!

“Monster!” Laura cried. All she could think of was getting to Evan. Evan needed her, she thought woozily, though surely it was Colin who was bleeding, blood trickling from his nose to his mouth and chin.

Her fingers closed around something on the sideboard. A weapon at last.

As quickly as she could, which was in reality slow motion, she reached out and with the greatest effort whacked her abusive husband on the head.

“That'll take care of him!” she said with satisfaction, before her rubbery legs gave out from under her.

Colin showed no signs of disagreeing. He showed no signs of getting up either, though it was moments before Laura allowed Evan to take the weapon from her hand.

They waited precisely three minutes after Evan's phone call for Constable Pat Barratt to arrive, closely followed up by Harriet Crompton.

“It was Harriet who tipped me off,” Evan told Laura thankfully, as a very hostile Colin stood as still as a stone statue while the constable handcuffed him.

Colin's colour rose alarmingly. “I'm a respected sur
geon,” he said hoarsely, his cold, handsome face grey with shock. “A gentleman. A man of status. This is an outrage. A gentleman like me to have his hands handcuffed behind his back— You're making a great mistake, Officer. It was Kellerman who assaulted me. I'll bring charges.”

“I'm the one who'll be pressing charges, Colin,” Laura said in a near cheerful voice.

“Don't dare try,” he told her through gritted teeth.

“She will,” Evan confirmed. “You may as well take him away, Pat, and thank you for coming so promptly.” Evan nodded to the constable, who nodded back.

“No worries. That's my job.”

“Don't think this is the last you'll be hearing from me,” Colin threatened, obviously finding his position intolerable. “I'm the victim here.” He looked and acted as though he truly believed it.

“I wouldn't be making threats, sir, if I were you.” Constable Barratt warned, in a calm, civil voice. “You're in enough trouble as it is. We take your behaviour very seriously out here. Assault. Deprivation of liberty. The use of an anaesthetic to subdue. All serious, sir. When you're ready, Laura, you and Evan might come down to the station and make a statement.”

“Will do, Pat, and many thanks.”

 

“My goodness, I do believe I was on the verge of a heart attack,” Harriet said some time later, having made that great restorative pot of tea, with plenty of sugar.

“So that was your husband.” She made a few little clicking noises with her tongue. “It must have been the good Lord who warned me. I first spied him hanging around the cottage a few days ago. He waited for me to go, then he doubled back. Then I saw him ducking out of the concert. Something clicked in my head. I sensed trouble. I was sure he wasn't to be trusted. Then when I saw him driving into town this morning I thought, That's no stranger in town, that's Laura's husband. I played my hunch and contacted Evan immediately. I've always had a good nose for sniffing out trouble.”

“After today you won't get either of us to disagree,” Evan said with wry affection.

“Do you think we've got rid of him?” Harriet shuddered. Having seen the man, and those mad eyes, she couldn't bear to think what Laura had endured.

“Definitely,” Evan answered. “He's nothing but a vicious woman-abuser. Laura has me to stand with her now.” He drew Laura closer to his side, looking down at her with pride and love. “You're a brave woman. You know that?”

“I am with you around.” Laura smiled back into his loving eyes.

“I'm not taking all the credit.” Evan grinned. “You got in the king hit. You don't have to worry any more, my love. ‘Gentleman' Morcombe—can you beat that? He was calling himself a gentleman—is nothing now. Probably his career is in tatters, but he has no one to blame but himself. Like Pat said, he's in a lot of trouble.”

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Laura said.

“Don't. He doesn't deserve it.”

“Of course he doesn't.” Laura put her arms around Evan, hugging him tightly. “My hero!”

“Husband would sound a million times sweeter,” Evan responded, dropping a kiss on her temple

“Wouldn't it ever!” Harriet exclaimed in high delight, and gave them the thumbs up. “Really, you know, I'd like to manage your wedding reception,” she said with her characteristic directness.

“Why not!” Laura and Evan spoke together.

Nothing but elation.

Fourteen months later

V
ENICE
was gorgeous. For a whole month they wandered everywhere, succumbing to its fabled beauty.

They revelled in its sights, its sounds, its smells, the way the sun glittered on the murky turquoise water of the lagoon. They took dozens of gondola rides, and from the water gazed out on the marble and stone palaces and churches walling the Grand Canal that wound through the city heart. They slipped under the stone Rialto Bridge, the wooden bridge at the Accademia, and got out at St Mark's Square, the centre of tourist activity.

The Cathedral of Saint Mark, on the east side of the square, was a wonderful example of Byzantine architecture, the Campanile—a bell tower—standing nearby. Just off the Square was the pink and white fairy floss of the Doges Palace, residence of the early Venetian rulers.

They tried in their enchantment to take in all this city of legend had to offer, but there was so little time. The priceless artworks on display throughout Venice they devoured: the Academy of Fine Arts, Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese. They strolled at dusk along the waterfront, watching the buoys on the water light up like lanterns, waiting for a vaporetto to come to take them on yet another mystery journey.

They dined out at famous restaurants. Stayed at a lovely private apartment lent to them by a friend of Evan's. At night they slept wrapped in each other's arms.

Rapture!

In the morning they woke to the sun streaming into their bedroom, because they didn't bother to close the shutters. This was their honeymoon. They had waited a full year for Laura's divorce to come through and now they were man and
wife. Sharing their blissful life. Day after day. Week after week. Each minute brought them more joy, more intimacy.

On their last evening they walked hand in hand through the square of San Marco, listening to the babble of languages around them, the voices of excited children, the music the water made, splashing and lapping against stone.

“Venice has been everything I ever read about it,” Laura said dreamily, snuggling into the warmth of her husband.

“It's like Paris. It never disappoints.” Evan smiled down at her.

“It's been fantastic.” Laura lifted her head to inhale the peculiar odour of the city, a kind of lemony-limey freshness mixed with the dankness of brackish water. “The two of us together. How can I ever tell you how wonderful it's been, my husband?”

“You'll have a lifetime to do it.” He embraced her, pressing her against him. “My wife, my lovely Laura.” On a wave of euphoria he bent his head over her, kissing her passionately, while Laura, freed of all constraint by his love, responded in kind.

Both of them were oblivious to the little wave of clapping from people who strolled benignly by.

Venice was the city for lovers.

“Tomorrow we begin our journey home,” Evan said as they walked on.

“Home. Isn't that a wonderful word?” she rounded her lips on it. “All this has been wonderful. We could never spend enough time here. But I'm missing the world we left. Its sheer vastness and mystery. We have so much open space. And I miss our friends. They've been so good to us. Do you think we'll stay in Koomera Crossing? Your book, now that it's finished, is so good. It's expected to do very well. Maybe you could become a writer full time? It's something you enjoy.”

“I've thought about it,” he admitted. In fact he had lots of ideas he could pursue.

“I could compose,” she said sweetly. “There's music all
around us. I feel so happy, so focused—I know I could get the sounds in my head down on paper.”

“I'm sure you could,” he answered, very proud of her. “That piece you wrote for your father is truly beautiful. Mother thought so too. It's a great joy to me you two clicked so wonderfully well. I knew you would.”

Laura's smile was full of charm. “Your mother is a beautiful woman in every way. I'll never forget how happy she was at our wedding. How she played for us. It brought such peace and calm to have her there. My mother and Craig. Everyone getting on so well. Our wedding day was the most perfect day of my life.”

“And mine.” He bent to kiss her, an expression of great happiness lighting his strongly hewn face. “Let's wait a while and see where life takes us. We're together. We have one another. Sometimes I think I want nothing else but the two of us. Then again, I expect I'll have a family to support…”

That sent sparkles of joy rushing through her. She smiled, blushed and nodded. “I feel we mightn't have to wait all that much longer,” she told him in a voice that was lyrical in its joy.

His hand was instantly at her shoulder. Such a look of wonderment on his face. He thought he loved her so much his heart could barely contain it.

“What does that mean, sweetheart?” Surrounded by people, he only had eyes and ears for her.

She looked up at him and laughed. The most radiant feeling of contentment was taking possession of her. Every day of her life with him she was falling deeper and deeper in love.

“I'll know for sure by the time we get home,” she promised.

“Then why kiss a woman who's been nothing but trouble?” Christine couldn't resist the urge to taunt him.

“Could be I just think of it as fighting fire with fire.”

“So what are you waiting for?” She felt a sudden violent rush of exhilaration in her blood as the weight of his wonderful curvy mouth came down over hers.

It was meant to be a light, mocking kiss that would convey to her she was no longer in his blood. No longer able to drive him to distraction. Only, the kiss changed character….