E for England (13 page)

‘That helps explain what happened at the beach.' He said it gently with no hint of reproach but Annie groaned.

‘Yes, you're right. I'm sorry I was so…'

He held up his hand. ‘Annie, there's no need to apologise. I was careless. It shouldn't have happened.'

She had nothing to say to that without reopening a conversation neither of them wanted to have. She said, ‘I don't understand how someone can walk away from their children. I mean it's different if you don't want children in the first place but Kevin did. I thought he did.' She frowned, thinking back. ‘Maybe deep down he didn't.'

‘It might have been more than he wanted to take on, two babies so soon — but you have two beautiful children, Annie.'

‘Thank you.' She smiled. ‘I do, don't I? I can't imagine life without them even though they drive me nuts sometimes.' She tilted her head and studied him. ‘You don't know what you're missing Hugh, parenthood.'

‘You paint such an attractive picture.' He returned her smile but his eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Some people don't want to be parents.'

‘I know. Leonie's another one.'

‘The world's overpopulated anyway.'

‘That's certainly true, and some people should never be parents,' she added with an acid edge she couldn't prevent.

‘Amen to that.'

Hugh took the last piece of shortbread and popped it into his mouth. He really should go home and let Annie go to bed but the couch was comfortable, the conversation meandered along freely. Relaxing company, exactly what he needed after the day he'd had. Annie wasn't interested in a relationship, he was attracted but it was under control. The perfect situation. He didn't need to fend off sexy innuendos or monitor what he said in case she thought he was making an advance. Plus she was a good cook.

‘What are you smiling about?'

He looked up in surprise. ‘Am I? I was thinking how comfortable it is sitting here talking to you and how I should go home and let you get to bed.'

The lovely wide smile lit her face. ‘Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me for ages.'

‘What are friends for?' Hugh stood up. She really was very enticing, sitting there smiling up at him. If he didn't leave very soon he'd grab her and kiss her and ruin a beautiful friendship. He'd already almost wrecked it once, he wouldn't risk it again. ‘I'd better go. Goodnight. Thanks for the tea and shortbread.'

‘Plenty more where that came from.'

‘I'm counting on it. Goodnight.'

She opened the door. ‘Goodnight. Thanks for coming up and thanks for listening to me. I'm sorry to go on about Kevin and my problems.' Grey eyes held his for a moment.

‘You're welcome. And you don't go on — I asked.' A goodnight kiss? A kiss on the cheek? Too much for friends?

The door started to close. Too late, he'd missed his chance. ‘Next weekend?' he said quickly. ‘Footie with Mattie?'

‘All right. Whenever suits you.'

‘I'll call you.'

‘Fine. Thanks, Hugh. Goodnight.'

‘Goodnight.' The door completed its journey and clunked into place. Hugh walked to the lift but changed his mind and opened the stairwell door instead. He couldn't stand still long enough to wait for that slow lift to arrive; he suddenly had energy to spare, bursting out of his body in waves. He felt like leaping and jumping with a surge of emotion he could barely identify and bounded down the concrete fire escape stairs, feet thudding as he jumped onto each landing and spun around the corner for the next descent.

Panting, he pushed open the bottom door to emerge into cool night air. He walked along the path by the oleanders where he chuckled to himself, remembering Annie climbing about looking for knickers. What a girl. Such a contradiction. She surprised him at every turn. Great reserves of strength in that sexy soft body. Smart, too. Her life was tough at the moment but she got on with things. Plus she didn't hold a grudge — except with that husband and who could blame her for that?

Eleanor Stradbroke appeared in Hugh's office doorway with a tight shut face, her angular body radiating tension. She closed the door and leaned on it.

‘We're losing him, Hugh. He's in a coma.'

He looked up. He knew even without the name. ‘Lester?'

She nodded. ‘It's not meningitis. I thought it was but he's not responding to the treatment and he should be by now.'

‘Have you called in Fred Bryant?'

‘The specialist? No, I was so sure it was either pneumonia or meningitis.'

Hugh reached for the phone. She'd left it too long. He should have followed up but Lester was her patient now, not his, thanks to the sister. Lester was admitted on Friday; it was now Monday morning and he'd been ill for days before that. His time was running out. They had to find out what was wrong.

‘Test for psittacosis,' said Fred Bryant after studying the notes.

‘Psittacosis?' Eleanor frowned.

‘You didn't think of it?' Fred raised a bushy eyebrow, eloquently making the same query rolling about in Hugh's mind. Eleanor should have been onto this earlier.

‘It fits the symptoms perfectly.' Hugh walked across to where the sister waited by the nurse's station while Fred examined her brother behind the closed curtains.

‘Does your brother keep birds of any sort?'

‘Birds?' She glared with all her might. ‘Why haven't you people worked out what's wrong yet? What are you doing? You're supposed to be experts and that Stradbroke woman is even more incompetent than you.'

Hugh gritted his teeth and ignored the flood of vitriol. She had a point underneath all the insults. ‘Parrots in particular. Do you know if he might have been in contact with any in the last few weeks?'

‘Why are you asking about parrots? I suppose this means you'll do more of those tests you're all so keen on. Useless.'

‘We think he may have psittacosis. It's a rare disease carried by birds. The symptoms are very like various other conditions, which is why we've had trouble diagnosing it. If we knew he had regular contact with birds, for example in his work, we would have tested for it earlier but as I said it's rare and seemed unlikely.'

‘When will you know?' For once she spoke in a relatively normal voice. ‘Will he be all right? Is this sitta thing fatal?'

‘Psittacosis. Dr Bryant will need to establish the connection with a bird. We hope we've caught it in time but Lester is very weak. The nurse will ask you some further questions.'

He headed for his office. If Lester died there'd be hell to pay. Eleanor joined him shortly after, pale-faced and tense.

No point skirting the issue, but he kept his tone to curious when he asked, ‘Why didn't you call Fred in earlier?'

She shook her head. ‘I don't know. I was so positive I knew what was wrong, then he went into the coma. It's been a hell of a week all round.'

‘Why? Is there something else wrong?' He studied her more closely. She looked as though she hadn't had much sleep lately and her normally neatly pinned up dark hair hung loose and limp on her collar. The crying Nina mentioned…

‘Oh…it's personal…well I guess it won't be personal much longer. Word gets around.' A tiny, weak smile flickered on and off like a tough-to-light match. ‘My husband left me over the weekend. On Saturday morning to be exact. He said he didn't love me anymore and he was in love with someone else.'

Hugh blew air out through puffed cheeks. ‘I'm so sorry.'

She'd always seemed so controlled and efficient, did her job well without fuss. He didn't associate Eleanor with excessive emotion. Quite unfairly it seemed, but theirs was a professional working relationship. He wouldn't say they were friends. Not like he and Annie.

‘We've been married twenty three years. Why do men do that? Have I passed my use-by date? I know I'm not pretty but am I so old and boring and ugly?'

To his dismay tears sprang forth and ploughed down her narrow cheeks. He yanked tissues from the box on his bookshelf and handed them to her. Why had she chosen him to collapse on? He cast a desperate look at the door hoping someone would knock. ‘Of course not. It's complicated. Who knows why marriages break up? I certainly don't. I'm not married.'

‘Smart man. Stay that way.' She sniffed and blew her nose. ‘Poor, Hugh. Sorry for dumping on you.'

‘It's okay.' Oh cripes! With any luck that was it. She'd pull herself together and get on with her job.

‘I hate him for doing that to me. I'm a highly educated, intelligent responsible woman and he's made me feel ugly. Dried up and worthless.' She dabbed at her eyes. ‘I can't have children and he wants children. Always did. I guess he can have them now with his new, younger…' The last word was swallowed in a sob.

Hugh stepped around his desk and hugged her, made an indistinct murmuring noise he hoped was reassuring. She stood stiffly, her body surprisingly fragile within the circle of his arms. Nothing like the warm soft comfort of Annie. Annie's body was made to fit perfectly with his.

‘I'm sorry,' she said abruptly. ‘I'll go.' He released her and she turned to open the door but paused. ‘If Lester dies it'll be my fault, won't it?'

‘He may not die.'

She nodded, pale lips jammed together, then pulled the door open and slipped out, head bowed.

Annie drove Leonie to the airport on Saturday morning for her flight to Vietnam.

‘Take care of your Mum,' Leonie said to the kids.

‘We will.'

‘Take care of yourself.' Annie helped Leonie lift her suitcase from the boot.

‘Always do. Thanks for the lift.' A quick hug and she was off, wheeling her smart blue case behind her without a backward glance.

Annie climbed back in behind the wheel. ‘Let's go.'

‘Where?' asked Floss.

‘Home.' She nipped in front of a taxi and changed lanes.

‘I want to go to the zoo. I want to look at the lions.'

‘Can we, Mum?' Mattie piped up. He started growling, making Floss squeal with laughter.

‘Wait a minute, I have to concentrate or I'll go on the wrong road and we'll end up in Timbuktu.' She hoped she was in the correct lane, if she wasn't they'd be funnelled to the west instead of on to the freeway back to the city. The lions in the back seat were in full-throated roar. Any minute now someone would try a lion attack and someone else would be in tears. ‘Pipe down, you two,' she yelled over the racket.

‘Mattie started it.'

‘Doesn't matter, you were both too noisy.'

‘Can we go to the zoo?'

‘Not today. It's too late.'

‘Tomorrow?'

‘All right, we'll go tomorrow.'

‘Promise?'

‘Promise.'

‘But Hugh was going to play football with me tomorrow,' said Mattie. ‘I want to play football.'

‘I want to go to the zoo. Football is silly.'

‘It is
not
silly. You're silly.'

‘Am not.' Floss's voice ventured into shrieking territory.

Annie gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white. ‘Be quiet!' she shouted.

‘Mummy promised we'd go to the zoo.' Floss, always with the last word. Annie groaned. She'd completely forgotten about Sunday football.

‘Hugh hasn't called,' she said. ‘He may not be able to play, Mattie. He might have to go to work.'

‘Hugh can come to the zoo with us,' Floss suggested brightly.

‘We can ask him when we get home,' said Mattie.

‘If he wants to come to the zoo?' Annie caught Mattie's eye in the rear-view mirror. He was smiling.

‘Yes, and if he wants to play football. We can play today.'

Annie smiled in return. Hugh may live to regret his impulsive offer. How little he knew about small children. They, like elephants, never forget.

‘I don't think Hugh is home.'

Annie knocked once more for good measure. No answer.

‘We'll have to phone him,' said Mattie.

‘Sweetie, Hugh said he'd call us if he could play.' Annie turned for the lift. ‘Come on. It's lunchtime.'

Floss ran ahead and pushed the button. Five minutes and numerous presses later Annie said, ‘It's not working, we'll have to go up the stairs.'

She pulled the heavy door open and chivvied the children through to the stairwell.

At level four she managed to gasp out, ‘I'm glad we don't have shopping to carry.'

Floss lagged behind half a flight. Annie stopped to wait, panting. ‘Come on, only three more floors to go.'

‘I'm tired. I need a rest.'

‘Okay, but only a little one.'

Mattie had surged on ahead. ‘I'm not tired,' he called.

‘Carry me,' Floss said.

‘No way, you're too big and anyway, it's not far.'

‘Hugh carried me. He's strong.'

‘Yes.' And that wasn't all he was. A flash of Hugh walking towards her from the surf. Rippling muscles in biceps and thighs, flat stomach, broad chest, water dripping from his hair, smiling. Her fingers rubbing suncream into his skin. His lips brushing her cheek.

‘Mummy, carry me.'

The bubble burst. ‘No can do. Stir your stumps. Let's go.' Annie continued climbing.

After lunch, at Mattie's insistent prodding, Annie tried Hugh's mobile number.

‘Clelland.' He sounded distracted and busy with a roar of noise in the background. She grimaced to herself. Was she being a pest?

‘It's Annie. I'm sorry to bother you, Hugh. Are you at work?'

‘Annie, hello! No, I'm with James. We're at the Fish Markets. It's a madhouse. We've just sat on the pier with fish and chips and a beer. It was great. Really warm in the sun. Autumn is amazing here.'

‘Ask him,' said Mattie. She held her finger to her lips.