Jilted (10 page)

‘He coped fine, as far as I know,’ replied Ellie, lifting her chin and trying not to give away any kind of emotion. Another lie.

There was a silence – they expected more. Ellie kept her mouth shut, looking from one reporter to the other. She couldn’t help feeling a tad victorious.

‘I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming here. This story was over long ago. Flynn won’t talk to you, and neither will the residents of Hope. I’ve returned simply to look after my godmother, who fell a week ago, spraining one ankle and breaking the other. She’ll be well again soon and I’ll be back on the set of
Lake Street
. And I think that’s our questions done.’

The journos shook their heads at Ellie’s saccharine smile, shoving their notebooks into their bags. ‘Thanks for your time,’ offered the one who loved
Lake Street
. ‘Give your godmother our best wishes.’

Ellie politely shook their hands. They walked back to the hall and she watched to make sure the reporters took the road out of town and not the one to Flynn’s place. Then she made her way to Matilda’s to collect the Premier. The interview had gone much better than she’d expected, but talking to the journos had made her realise something. It was time she faced her fears.

If she were to stay in Hope Junction any longer, she needed to face her guilt and speak to Flynn.

Chapter Seven

A bitter Flynn stripped down to his undies and plunged into the dam. Today was uncharacteristically warm for August – and especially compared to the weekend – but it wouldn’t have made a difference if it were freezing. He needed to let off steam, to exert energy – and fast. The altercation with the journalists and seeing Ellie again had put him in a bad mood. Bad moods he didn’t like. He generally saw the positives in a situation when everyone else was full of woe – at least nowadays – but right now the positives could take a hike.

‘Argh!’ He let out a piercing roar as he came up for air.
Why? How?
How could he let Ellie take hold of him again like this? He’d promised Lucy he’d be there to see her audition, and instead he’d stormed off in a rage.

He swam a couple of laps, trying to sort his churning thoughts into some kind of order. But it didn’t work. The morning’s fiasco played over and over and over again in his throbbing head. Whether
he left his eyes open or shut them tight all he saw was Ellie. Gorgeous and confident as she’d walked towards the journalists and taken control of the situation.

Even now, as he turned to swim another lap, there she was, standing on the edge of the dam, looking utterly delectable in tight jeans and that mysteriously irresistible rugby jumper. Ignoring the mirage, he dove back under and charged the other way, and then back again. Through the water, he thought he saw a golden Premier sitting on the dirt just behind the image of Ellie. He emerged and blinked, hoping she and the car would disappear. That his imagination would stop playing nasty tricks. Instead, Ellie was clearer than ever as she lifted a hand and waved tentatively at him.

She’s real!

Her top lifted slightly as she waved and he copped a glimpse of a toned, tanned, terrific stomach. The desire packed a punch and he almost went under.

‘Are you okay?!’ she called out.

Flynn struggled back above the water and saw Ellie running towards him, her deep chocolate hair blowing behind her in the wind. He couldn’t believe she still knew where to find him. Dismissing that thought, Flynn swam to the side and scrambled out, yanking on his jeans over wet skin and tense muscle.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked. She was kind enough to avert her gaze while he dressed, but Ellie finding him semi-naked wasn’t the problem. It was her being here full stop. Smoothing his T-shirt over his wet chest, he stared at her and shivered. ‘Well?’

‘I thought it was time we talked.’ Her voice wavered, and Flynn swore he saw tears welling in her eyes. Eyes almost the same brown as her hair. Her hands were behind her back, making him wonder if she’d crossed her fingers. He remembered holding those hands … could still recall how soft they were.

Stop!

Determined not to let the memories get to him, he let out a derisive snort. ‘You’re ten years too late. Besides, I’m busy.’

‘Five minutes, Flynn. Please?’ The way she looked at him stalled his anger for a brief second. She took her chance. ‘I know I don’t deserve any time at all, that the way I left was unforgivable, but I need you to know it wasn’t because of you.’

‘The old it’s-not-you-it’s-me, hey?’ Flynn’s voice seeped disbelief as he bent to pull on his boots. She was once the best friend he’d ever had, and now he didn’t know her at all. ‘Is this supposed to make me feel better or just absolve you?’

‘Both,’ she replied honestly. ‘I’m sorry for hurting you, Flynn. There’s nothing I regret more in the world. I was totally messed up back then, and I truly didn’t want to bring you down with me. I thought by leaving I was doing you a favour.’

Flynn didn’t know which part of that to respond to. He took a moment. ‘What do you mean messed up? I thought you were happy. I thought
we
were happy.’

It was true, Flynn had never been happier than in those years he’d spent with Ellie. It was a high he’d never managed to reach since. She’d ruined him for anyone else.

‘We
were
happy.’ She bit her lip and her eyes brimmed with more tears. ‘But … you remember how I went to Perth to see my mother?’

He frowned, thinking back. ‘Yes. I was meant to go with you.’

She sniffed. ‘I wish you had.’

‘Why?’ Without thinking he gestured to a shady spot underneath a nearby tree. Despite everything, he could feel himself mellowing towards her. Although she was older and more refined, there was something about her that he still recognised. Something about her he still liked. Against his better judgement, he wanted to spend a little time with her.

‘Thanks.’ She walked with him to the tree and sat down cross-legged. He leaned back against the trunk for support. And waited.

‘I was so excited about Mum asking me to go meet her, and her promise to come to the wedding.’ She smiled half-heartedly at the recollection.

He nodded. ‘I remember.’

‘Of course you do, Flynn. You were always thoughtful.’

He bristled at her comment – it felt like a cheap compliment. It wasn’t only the words that irritated him but also the way she said them. As if she’d had elocution lessons and now spoke the Queen’s English instead of regular outback Aussie.

‘I just wanted to see Mum again,’ she continued, oblivious to his assessment. ‘To bring her back to meet everyone who’d come to be a part of my life in Hope. Maybe I wanted to see if she’d changed. I mean, I didn’t want her coming here and ruining the life I’d made. I didn’t want her doing stupid things and making people think badly of me because of her.’

‘They wouldn’t have.’ Unsaid was the fact that Ellie had changed everyone’s opinion of her without any help from her mother.

‘I see that, in hindsight,’ Ellie said. Her eyes dropped to the dirt and she yanked out a solitary strand of grass to twist around her fingers. She always fidgeted when she was nervous, he remembered. ‘Anyway, Rhiannon didn’t turn up. I waited in the bar at Burswood Casino for hours. I … I endured a number of … come-ons – by men old enough to be my father – but I sat firm, waiting for her. And she never showed.’

‘Oh, Ellie. I should have been with you.’ Flynn leaned forward to take her into his arms and then quickly pulled back, terrified by the gesture that had once been second nature. She wasn’t his to comfort, not anymore. He cleared his throat. ‘What did you do?’

Ellie looked into Flynn’s understanding eyes and her guilt multiplied. Driving the twenty kilometres from town, facing him, telling him what happened all those years ago – this was meant to help allay the guilt. Meant to help them both move on. But being here, in such close proximity, was stifling. He’d almost hugged her. Almost pulled her into his warm, strong embrace, and she couldn’t deny the immense disappointment when he hadn’t.

But sitting here under the gigantic old eucalypt, Ellie realised that telling Flynn the whole truth would only hurt him more than she already had. She hadn’t told him ten years ago because she couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes. Disappointment in her. She still couldn’t bear it. And what good would telling him about something that happened years ago actually do? Could it rewrite history? Would it make him feel any better? Would it make her?

‘I got really, really drunk,’ she answered eventually, after thinking carefully about how much to tell him. ‘I cried a lot and then I started to ask questions about myself. My mum had been married three times by that point. She had no inkling of responsibility or real love. What if I was like her? What if what I felt for you didn’t last?’

Flynn frowned, but even with his forehead lined with creases, he still pleased the eye. ‘But you went to Perth a month before … before our …’

‘I know.’ Ellie jumped in, not wanting him to have to say wedding, and her not wanting to hear the word either. ‘And I thought the doubts would pass, but they didn’t. I loved you more than anything, but the future felt uncertain and I just couldn’t go through with it. I can’t explain it any better than that.’

She wasn’t exactly lying, her mother’s history had worried her. But despite more than a few people predicting she’d turn out like Rhiannon, she’d been determined not to. She’d wanted a lasting
relationship that meant something. All these feelings she spoke about were real – she’d just left some important parts out.

For a long moment only the squawk of cockatoos high above broke the silence between them. Flynn didn’t say anything, but Ellie could feel the disappointment radiating off him like a raging fever. Thank God she hadn’t told him everything.

‘I know you can never forgive me,’ she said eventually, ‘but I want you to know I did love you.’
Still do
, she added silently, knowing it for the truth it was. Knowing he deserved so much more. ‘I know it’ll never be enough, but I wanted to say sorry.’

The lameness of the word hung between them and Ellie wished she could erase it. Hadn’t she already told herself that sorry wouldn’t cut it? She knew if the shoe had been on the other foot, if she’d been jilted, left stranded at the altar, she wouldn’t be sitting here now letting him chat. She’d have hacked his heart out with a blunt machete and fed it to the dingos years ago.

‘I do forgive you, Els.’

‘What?’ Her ears had to be deceiving her. Or he was playing a cruel joke? ‘What did you say?’

He took her hand and held it firm as he looked into her eyes. Ellie’s heart pounded so hard she was sure he could see it thumping against her top. His hand was warm, comforting, everything she craved and never found in anybody else.

‘I’ve moved on,’ Flynn said.

Her heart squeezed. Perhaps he was relieved she’d ended it. They’d been so young that, maybe in hindsight, he’d realised what he’d felt hadn’t been love at all.

‘Good,’ she said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. But it wouldn’t go down. In a pathetic attempt to stop the tears she’d hate herself for crying in front of him, she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Friends, then?’

Flynn dropped her hand like it was poison ivy. ‘No.’ Shaking his head, he scrambled to his feet. Ellie followed, unsteady. ‘I can’t. I said I forgive you, and I appreciate you sharing why you thought you had to break off our engagement. But I’ll never forget it. Do you have any idea what it was like?’

She shook her head as his voice got louder, more agitated.

‘
Hell
, Ellie. It was hell. Not only did I have to come to terms with the fact you didn’t love me – like I thought you did, like I loved you – but I had to deal with the shame and the pity. With people saying I was better off single. That I should sow my wild seeds before I thought about settling down. That it was a mistake from the start.’

She listened as Flynn poured his heart out. Hearing his anguish felt like someone was setting a match to her soul, but she deserved the agony after what she’d put him through.

‘I went off the rails, Els. I hate the weak man you made me.’ The fury in his stare told her he meant it. ‘It wasn’t only me I hurt either. I broke my mother’s heart, Gran’s heart. I scared Lucy and I didn’t make the most of the last years of Dad’s life. That’s why we will never be friends. I can’t risk becoming that person again.’

‘Okay,’ Ellie nodded, unable to say anything more. She knew whatever sympathy she offered would seem insincere. So instead, ‘I understand. Thank you for listening.’

Flynn gave a regret-filled smile. ‘You’re welcome. And thanks for having the guts to come to me. I respect that. Please give Mat my best wishes. I hope her recovery is quick.’

Those were Flynn’s parting words, before he strode off across the paddock, leaving Ellie alone with only the swish of the trees and the distant sounds of sheep. She stood there for who knows how long, aching at this polite, impersonal end to their heart-rending conversation.

Chapter Eight

After her confrontation with Flynn, Ellie didn’t know how she would stay in Hope Junction a moment longer, but Matilda had a stream of visitors over the following days, and Ellie practically had a full-time job just waiting on them. Somehow tea and biscuits became a seemingly endless task, then Joyce joined the fray, creating mountains of washing up with her culinary delights.

At first Ellie was anxious about Mat’s friends, worried they’d snub her, but either they didn’t buy into that nonsense or they loved Mat too much to upset her, leaving Ellie alone in the process. And sure enough, within the week, Ellie had grown to love the old dears, many of whom had ten years or so on Matilda. Their stories of times gone by fascinated her, and she adored it when one of them persuaded Mat to tell stories from her travels.

In her heyday Matilda had been a famous travel writer, favouring off-the-beaten-track destinations over popular tourist spots. Her articles had been published all over the globe, in prestigious
publications such as
The New York Times
and
The Guardian
, not to mention every major newspaper in Australia. Some of her articles had been collected in two big coffee-table volumes, complemented by award-winning photography.