Jilted (17 page)

‘I’ll bet,’ said Ellie warmly. ‘Hope Junction really needed a good café.’

Sherry smiled her appreciation. ‘And you don’t need any introduction,
Stella
. I absolutely love
Lake Street
, watch it every night.’

Ellie relaxed at the other woman’s confession but she noted Flynn stiffen at her side.

‘Can we order?’ he asked, tucking his newspaper under his arm.

‘Sure.’ Sherry grabbed a pen from behind her ear and a notepad from her apron pocket. ‘Where do you want to sit?’

Ellie and Sherry followed Flynn over to a table in the corner. Ellie quickly sat in the seat where she’d have her back to the window. She didn’t want to be staring out at the park, which would no doubt ignite numerous Flynn-and-Ellie memories. They came fast and furious these days, and right now she wanted to focus on the real Flynn in front of her.

Flynn ordered a meat pie and a flat white; Ellie went for the same, but with a latte. They chatted while they waited for Sherry to fill their order. Flynn mentioned he was going to be best man at Rats and Whitney’s wedding. Very soon, too – it wasn’t shotgun in the normal sense, but when they’d decided to get married, they hadn’t seen the point in waiting years, or even months, for the pleasure. Flynn talked about his plans for Rats’s bucks’ night next week and his other best man duties. He clearly didn’t have the paranoia about weddings that she had.

‘What?’ Flynn asked.

Ellie blinked, wondering if she’d said something. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Oh … no … umm …’ No way was she going to tell him. He’d laugh his socks off if she confessed that she’d barely been able to step inside a church since
that
day, never mind attend a wedding. She’d tried once – a colleague from the show had tied the knot at St Mary’s Cathedral in Sydney, but Ellie hadn’t even been able to make it up the steps and past the elaborate front doors.

‘It’ll be my first wedding since ours,’ he admitted, as if reading her mind. She couldn’t believe he’d brought it up. But she admired his guts for doing so.

‘Are you scared?’ she asked, then added, quickly, ‘I’d be petrified.’

He nodded, glancing down at the table as if ashamed. He looked like a cute puppy, and she wanted nothing more than to lean forward and cuddle him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to keep saying it,’ he replied, looking up at her again. ‘If we’re to be friends, it has to be a level playing field. We start afresh.’

Start afresh?
Did that mean there was the chance that one thing could lead to another, like it had when they’d first met?

‘Okay,’ she said, firmly pushing that hope out of her mind. Quite aside from their history, there were a zillion
now
reasons why it would never work. ‘If we’ve just met, I’d love to know why you’re scared of attending your best friend’s wedding.’

He threw his head back and laughed. ‘If you must know, I was jilted at the altar by the love of my life.’

Her belly somersaulted at his turn of phrase.
Love of his life!

‘Good god,’ she said faux-theatrically. She wished she had her coffee already so she could wrap her fingers around it and take comfort from the warmth. This was an odd and awkward conversation.

As if sensing her wish, Sherry landed with their lunch and drinks before either of them could say another word. They thanked her politely and each took a forkful of the homemade pastry. Near identical moans of goodness escaped their mouths.

‘Tell me,’ Ellie said, resting her fork against the plate and picking up her glass.

‘What about?’

‘About what happened after I, after
she
left.’ She swallowed. Flynn had been very guarded about his past when they’d talked at the dam. He’d skated over the facts, telling her the bare minimum, and Matilda had told her a version but, call it perverse or self-defeating, Ellie wanted to know more. She wanted to know Flynn’s
version. Even if she hadn’t told him all the facts about her. When Flynn didn’t say anything, she pushed a little more. ‘I noticed you don’t drink alcohol anymore. Is that because …?’

‘Ellie.’ He sighed and took a sip of coffee. ‘I’m an alcoholic.’

She gasped, not expecting such a blatant confession. When Matilda had said he’d turned to drinking, she’d imagined some wild nights and bad-boy behaviour, but not addiction. Flynn had always been so together, so controlled. It was one of the things she admired about him – he and his family were in stark opposition to the mayhem of hers. She’d had a brush with the bottle herself in the months after she left, but he was the last person she’d expect to lose it. Tragedy did strange things to a person.

Ellie swallowed, not quite knowing what to say next.

‘Shocking, isn’t it? I’m surprised the town still respects me after all I did.’

Did she really want to know? Didn’t she carry enough guilt as it was? She couldn’t help herself. ‘What
did
you do?’

‘Became a resident of the pub. Spent all my money on booze and drugs.’

‘Drugs?’ Her eyes widened at the impossibility. The Flynn she knew was vehemently against drugs, whether it was recreational use or steroid abuse in athletes.

‘A bit of marijuana to start with, but that soon lost its edge and I sought stronger stuff. The only time I could stop the memories was when I was drunk and off my face. I hit a bloke in the pub once because he knocked over my beer. The cops let me off with a warning, but only ‘cause the man was an old friend of Dad’s, he didn’t want to lay charges.

‘Mum and Dad didn’t know what to do with me. I could see I was hurting them but I couldn’t stop. So I went bush. I followed the road north and ended up on a cattle station. No one knew me there; no one knew what had happened. I started getting my
life back together. I got a job on the station, was working, getting clean.’ He paused for a second, and then sighed deeply. The mood between them was no longer fun and jokey. ‘Then Mum called one day and told me Dad had had an accident. He’d been cutting a tree with a chainsaw. It’d fallen on a fence during a storm. Somehow he lost control and a branch came down on him. He didn’t stand a chance.’

Ellie’s hand rushed to her mouth. She knew Cyril had died tragically, unexpectedly, but it sounded so much more awful coming from Flynn. She wished she’d been around to comfort him.

‘I should have been here,’ said Flynn, anger coming into his voice. ‘I should’ve … I came home and haven’t drunk since. Except for once.’

Although he’d piqued her curiosity – big time – she didn’t ask about that once. He was already guilty enough. She knew the signs. How much more guilt would he feel if he knew what really happened to her in Perth? The answer made her certain she’d never tell him.

‘Don’t play the
should’ve
game, Flynn. You can’t rewrite history.’

‘Would you?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Would I what?’ She licked her lips, which felt like the Sahara.

‘Rewrite history.’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘Having had time to live with it, would you still leave me, if you could make the decision again?’

Oh fuck
. How to answer? She must have hesitated too long, because his cheeks blushed and he waved his hand in front of his face as if to dismiss the conversation. But it wasn’t that straightforward. She opened her mouth to say as much, but couldn’t push a sound past her tonsils.

In the same circumstances, she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t make the same decision again. And if it were as simple as rewriting history, she would give herself a different beginning in life. Parents
who cared, a stable childhood. But that would mean she’d never have met Mat, much less Flynn. She shuddered at the thought. As much as she’d like to believe in fate and all the storybook stuff about destiny, she had to be realistic. If Flynn really was The One, then her mistake wouldn’t keep them apart. But so far it had. She didn’t know how to put any of this into words.

‘Flynn, I … Instinctively she reached for his hand. It felt warm and hard and brought her comfort when that was supposed to be what she was offering him.

Flynn’s phone buzzed in his pocket. As if grateful for the opportunity to extract his hand, he retrieved the vibrating mobile and pressed a button. ‘Flynn Quartermaine … Really? That’s great … Okay, thanks … Yep, I’ll be there in five.’

‘The vet?’ guessed Ellie as he ended the call.

‘Uh-huh.’ He nodded with a relieved smile.

‘Rodger’s okay?’

‘A bit woozy, apparently, but they’ve cut the lump out and it doesn’t look dangerous. Of course, they have to send it off for tests …’ He grabbed his wallet, pulled out a twenty and laid it on the table. ‘Don’t suppose you want to come see him?’

Flynn could’ve kicked himself. It was a stupid thing to ask her, considering she’d just all but said she was happy with her decision to have left him. Her honesty hurt like barbed wire around his heart, and yet he kept going back for more. Spending time with Ellie was not a good idea. Sure, he was over her – it had taken years but he’d moved on – yet being in her company unbalanced him. He was man enough to admit that. He decided to avoid being alone with her after this.

‘Okay, let’s go,’ he said, standing up.

‘I’ll pay,’ she argued, opening her purse.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, a little more forcefully than necessary. ‘I may not be a famous television star, but I can afford to shout a friend lunch.’

‘Thanks,’ she replied, although she looked a little taken aback.

She followed him to the clinic, where they parked in the gravel car park out front. ‘Shall I come in, or do you want me to wait out here?’ she asked, juggling her keys in her hands. She was suddenly acting nervous around him.

He nodded towards the front door of the converted cottage. ‘You may as well come in.’ As they crunched across the gravel, silence reigned between them. He longed for the easy conversation they’d had in the Co-op, even their chat in the café before he’d gone and asked that tragic question. He couldn’t help the image that came into his head as he held the door open for her. Of how life should have been. Of them working alongside each other on the farm, living the country life and doing important things together – like getting their sheepdog from the vet.

‘Afternoon, Flynn.’ The vet, Craig, reached out to shake Flynn’s hand. He hadn’t been in town more than a year and wasn’t the type to gossip, so Flynn didn’t expect him to give them a hard time. Instead, he did a double take when he saw Ellie. ‘You’re that sheila from
Lake Street
.’

Ellie giggled awkwardly and nodded. ‘Don’t hold it against me.’

‘You kidding? My missus loves it. Wait till I tell her you were in my clinic today.’

Flynn could tell Ellie was uncomfortable, and he didn’t love the conversation much himself. ‘Can we see Rodger, Craig?’

The vet straightened up, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘Sure, sorry mate. I’ll go get him.’ Craig travelled down a corridor and returned a few minutes later with a very forlorn looking kelpie.
Flynn dropped to his knees and held out his arms. He hated to see Rodg looking like this – so vulnerable, so
old
.

‘Come here, mate.’

But Rodger looked right past Flynn, visibly perking up as he noticed Ellie. Looking pleased with herself, she stooped a little and held out her hand. ‘Well, hello there, old friend.’

Craig let go of the leash and Rodger shuffled forward to greet Ellie, pining and wagging his tail as much as he could while still groggy from the anaesthetic.

‘I think he remembers me,’ Ellie said, delight in her voice. She knelt and wrapped her arms around the dog, not even flinching as he licked her all over her face. ‘Amazing.’

Not really
, thought Flynn, she was pretty unforgettable.

Still, he felt somewhat put out that Rodger didn’t seem the slightest bit happy to see him, yet was embarrassingly all over Ellie. If the dog were human, this reunion would have been quite inappropriate.

He cleared his throat, loudly. ‘Rodger, lay off the poor girl.’

‘It’s fine.’ Ellie giggled and almost lost her balance as Rodger upped his antics.

Flynn couldn’t help but smile at the interaction in front of him. This was the old Ellie – a girl who loved animals and country life and couldn’t give two hoots about getting dirty.

This was the girl he’d loved.

Chapter Fifteen

‘What’s your secret?’ Matilda asked the second Ellie got her settled in the front seat of the Premier.

‘What are you on about?’ Ellie smiled down at her friend.

Her smile was met with Mat’s raised brow. ‘You’re glowing. I can practically feel the happiness radiating off you. Do you have good news or what?’

‘Nope,’ Ellie shook her head. She closed the door and trekked round to the driver’s side. She almost whistled but caught her lips between her teeth as she realised how it would look. Inside her was a big ball of happiness. She felt light-headed, lighthearted … and it had everything to do with Flynn. She should push the feeling aside, repress it, but dammit, she just wanted to enjoy it. Ellie couldn’t remember feeling so wonderful about just spending time with someone. Not for a while, anyway.

‘Well?’ Matilda glared at Ellie expectantly as she started the car.

‘Well, what?’

‘Your news? Have you heard from Dwayne or something?’

‘Huh?’ Oh, that’s right, she was an actress on a prime time television series. She hadn’t thought much about the show or Sydney for a few days now. She’d been too preoccupied with Mat, the play and, if she were honest with herself, Flynn.

‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ Matilda had a knack for reading minds.

Ellie thought through her options. She could deny it or she could save a lot of time and cut to the chase. ‘We had lunch together at the café.’

‘Ooh.’ Matilda’s utterance was packed with meaning.

Ellie’s cheeks burned. She felt like a schoolgirl sharing her first crush. A sigh slipped from her lips at the complexity of what she was feeling. Of what she
shouldn’t
be feeling. ‘Ooh is one word for it.’