Free-Falling (29 page)

Evelyn frowned as she watched her son's face. Generally, she wasn't great at reading emotion, but an idea struck her. ‘Are you in love with her?' she asked before she could stop herself.

James flicked his eyes up in surprise and then paused before shaking his head slowly. ‘No,' he said. ‘I guess I sort of thought I was. But I was confused, you know? All mixed up cause I was thinking I should be looking after her for Andy. And anyway, either way I got shot down. She's not interested. But it's for the
best, right? Less complicated this way. Now I just get to be the fun uncle.'

This time Evelyn couldn't help herself. She stood up, stepped around the table and wrapped her arms around James, giving him the tightest hug she'd given anyone in a long time. When she finally sat back down, James raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Where did that come from, Mum? You know you're not the hugging type.'

‘People can't change?' she asked. She paused before continuing, ‘Remember Dad's old bear hugs? He used to practically crush all of us the moment he saw us after any length of absence.'

‘I remember. Dad's hugs were never optional.'

‘Well, you know what I've come to realise? I miss them. For some reason, when he died, I closed myself off from all kinds of physical affection. And it wasn't fair. Not to me and not to you boys.' Evelyn reached across the table to hold his hand. ‘I'm sorry, James,' she said softly.

‘No worries, Mum, I'll be sweet. Your flip.'

Chapter 19

Bazza spent the week following the birth wondering whether he should go up to her apartment to see her – if she was even home from the hospital yet. Once again he was stuck in limbo: he had no idea how she felt about him or what he should be doing. Had he only imagined that there was something between them?

The question of whether or not she was home was answered the next day when he stepped into the lift on the ground floor and saw her standing there, holding a bunch of flowers and clutching the ribbons of several helium balloons that proclaimed cheerily, ‘It's a girl!' She looked pale and tired, her dark hair clipped loosely back in a short ponytail, her hands gripping the flowers somewhat weakly. But she still looked beautiful.

‘Hi!' he said and then immediately felt embarrassed at how goofy he'd sounded.
Too enthusiastic! Tone it down!

‘Just got back,' she said, nodding up at the balloons. ‘These are from the hospital . . . obviously.'

‘Sure,' he replied.
Think of something to say!
‘Where are the
babies?' he asked, pleased with himself that he'd come up with a conversation starter.

‘Upstairs with Stacey. Apparently it's good for me to be the one going up and down to the car bringing everything inside while she looks after my children.' Belinda gave him a wry smile.

‘You need a hand?' he asked hopefully.

‘Thanks, but this is the last of it.'

The lift doors were opening on the second floor and Bazza hesitated as he stepped out. ‘It was good to see you,' he said eventually.

‘You too,' she replied with a small smile.

The doors were starting to close behind him when he suddenly swung around and stuck his arm in to stop them. ‘Look, Belinda, make sure you let me know if there's anything I can do for you, okay? Anytime . . . even if it's the middle of the night and they won't stop crying or something. I'm here for you, got it?' He hoped she believed that he was genuine.

‘Got it,' she replied.

The doors shut then and Bazza headed down to his apartment.

Was that enough?
he wondered as he let himself inside.

Belinda dropped the bunches of flowers onto the coffee table and released the helium balloons so that they floated up to the ceiling. She flopped down onto the couch and sighed.
God, what I would give for twelve hours of solid sleep.

‘What is it? What's wrong?' Stacey stood in front of her with her hands on her hips. ‘It's post-natal depression, isn't it? I knew
you'd be a prime candidate. Here, let me look it up for you.' She hurried over to the computer, fingers poised to google it.

‘Calm down, Stace. I'm not depressed. It was just a
sigh,
for God's sake! I've got a lot on my mind and I'm dead tired is all.'

‘What? What's on your mind? Is it James? You still haven't told me what you two spoke about in the hospital. Or is it your parents? Are they still hassling you to move back home? Or Evelyn? What is it? Tell me!'

‘Stop! You're filling my head up even more. No, it's not any of those things, okay? Everything is fine with James, Mum's accepted that I'm not moving out to the farm with them, and Evelyn's been great so far. Anyway, right now, I have a fabulous idea: why don't we both try and get some rest while the girls are sleeping. I get the feeling one of them is going to wake up any second.'

Though she didn't look happy about it, Stacey collapsed onto the couch next to Belinda and within minutes was snoring.

‘God, I wish I found it that easy to fall asleep,' Belinda murmured to herself.

She closed her eyes and starting thinking over the past few days. She thought of Stacey and how determined she was that Andy really had sent Bazza to her. Apparently the text message he'd received was solid proof as far as she was concerned. She'd googled the supernatural and discovered that ghosts and technology worked quite well together.

Then Belinda remembered the conversation she'd had with James when he'd asked to be alone with her. She'd thought it would be awkward but, to be honest, it was actually very sweet. They'd looked each other in the eyes and they both simply knew – there wasn't anything between them. Maybe for a split-second they had thought there could have been. That night when they almost kissed had definitely been a
moment
, but it was nothing more.

They had agreed to just be good friends, and she felt as though they really would be. The weird thing was that when she had tried to thank him for all of the lovely things he'd done for her since Andy died – the lilies, the car battery, her letterbox – he had stared at her blankly.

‘Sorry, Belle. Love to say I was guilty, but I can't take the cred. All I did was drop off a bunch of roses to try and brighten your day. I wanted to do more, just didn't know where to start.'

So where did that leave her? Back to the ghost theory (which Stacey was well and truly on board with)?
Too hard to think about right now.
It hurt her head too much.

And finally . . . Bazza. That night at the hospital – goodness, what was she thinking asking him to stay for the birth! She barely knew the guy! And yet, he did stay. Not only that, he was
great
throughout the whole thing. She'd thought after that, though, he'd never want to see her again – but in the lift just now, hadn't his face looked sort of hopeful as he offered to help out?

Belinda didn't realise that her thoughts had turned into dreams until she was startled awake by the sound of a baby crying.

Evelyn stepped out of Alby's office and thought to herself, ‘I haven't felt this free since my last skydive.' It amazed her that, despite the fact that she was well into her fifties – okay, practically into her sixties – she could still see her entire life unfolding in front of her. The options! She could travel if she wanted, although not for long – she didn't want to miss too much of her two beautiful new granddaughters' lives. But the choice was hers. She could get a new job or even study, learn something brand new. She pictured
herself amongst all those young uni students as a mature age student and snorted. Well, the option was there anyway.

Maybe she might get a new job, or maybe not. Heck, she'd had the last eight months off work – why not make it a clean year? She could discover new hobbies. It was probably time she gave skydiving a rest anyway. She had a feeling she'd found what she was looking for out there in the sky. It was as though the old Evelyn had been there all along, just waiting to be rediscovered. Waiting to give her son a hug. Waiting to quit her job.

Although she
was
going to have to pop back out to the SkyChallenge warehouse in the next couple of days. Bazza had said there was something important he needed to talk about with her.

‘More important than telling me you're living in the same apartment block as my son's ex-fiancée and she's pregnant with my grandbabies?' she'd joked in response.

‘Yeah, ha ha, McGavin,' had been his reply. It still gave her a funny, happy feeling every time he called her that.

As she walked away from her old office block and the crisp, cool afternoon air hit her face, she imagined Carl walking along beside her. ‘You did good, Ev,' that's what he would say. ‘World's your oyster, babe. Have it kilpatrick, if you like!' She smiled as she remembered that silly line of his.

‘I'll take it au naturale, thanks, hon,' she replied out loud.

She swore that she could hear him chuckling in response, but it was too hard to be sure over the sound of the traffic . . .

Belinda tensed as the baby's wails started up. She had just climbed back into bed after spending the last hour settling one of them.
Now
which one was crying? She was so confused.

Stacey called out from the lounge room, ‘Are you freaking kidding me? They never stop!'

‘I know!' she yelled back. At that moment, a second voice joined the wailing.
No, no, no! Not both of them again.
They picked up one baby each and stood rocking them, swaying back and forth.

‘Which is due for a feed now?' Stacey asked, looking from one to the other, squinting her eyes, trying to remember.

‘Oh God, I've lost track.' Belinda felt on the verge of tears. It was all too much: she had no idea what she was doing, and although Stacey was doing her best, she had no clue either. ‘We need help,' she said, feeling her stress levels rising in line with the pitch of the babies' cries.

‘Fucken oath,' Stacey responded. Stacey did
not
swear often. Christ, if Stacey lost it, Belinda had no idea what she was going to do.

‘Okay, I'll be right back.' Belinda headed for the door, cradling God only knew which twin in her arms. They might not have been identical, but at 2 am with severe sleep deprivation, it was hard to tell the difference between herself and Stacey, let alone a couple of newborns.

‘Belinda! Where are you going? It's the middle of the bloody night!'

‘I'm going to get help.'

Bazza was woken suddenly by a banging sound. He sat bolt upright and looked confusedly around his room for a moment, before realising that the noise was coming from his front door.

He pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers and stumbled into the lounge room. As he got closer to the door, he could hear a
baby crying, accentuated every now and again by another thud against his door.

Is she trying to kick the thing down?

He pulled the door open and saw Belinda standing in front of him, dressed in her pyjamas with a screaming baby in her arms. She opened her mouth to speak but instead a sob came out. He just made out, ‘
Need. Your. Help,
' in between the tears.

‘Sure thing,' he said immediately. ‘Can I?' he added, reaching his arms out to take the baby.

‘Are you joking?' She wailed as she handed her over. ‘Of course you can take her. You can keep her if you like.'

Bazza started to laugh but then stopped when he saw the look on her face –
Ah, not trying to be funny then.
‘Come on,' he said. ‘Let's get you back up to your place.' He grabbed his keys and then followed her out into the hall. As they reached the lift, another apartment door opened and he saw Mrs Crease stick her head out.