Jilted (26 page)

Eventually, she washed her face and ventured out into the kitchen. Mat’s bedroom door was shut, Ellie guessing she’d retreated there for a rest. She hesitated by it for a moment before pulling the hood of her jumper over her head. She couldn’t face Matilda right now, but there was someone else who could give her answers.

Chapter Twenty-two

Ellie strode down the main street past the shops, keeping her head down. She turned at Apex Park and walked briskly towards the caravan park. It was on the other side of town to Mat’s house, one block back from the main street. Ellie hadn’t been past or even stopped in for a squiz since her return. Joyce had asked her round for a cuppa numerous times, but between looking after Mat, fixing the house, helping the theatrical society and dealing with her emotions, she just hadn’t found the time. But right now, she needed Joyce’s thoughts and opinions. Joyce and Mat were close, and if Joyce believed Mat needed to try proper medical treatment, then maybe she and Ellie could launch the battle together.

Not that Ellie wanted to fight Matilda – that had and would never be the case – but she needed to lodge a persuasive argument. Make the stubborn old bat see just how important and needed she was.

She stopped at the entrance to the caravan park to gather herself. The paths between the camping and van plots were weed-free and
neater than Ellie had ever known them. The ablutions block had been repainted since she’d last been here, and signs scattered the park telling visitors what activities they could partake in around town. An abundance of flowers grew in big tin pots on the verandah of the caretaker’s chalet. Joyce’s chalet. Ellie took the steps to the front door. Unsurprisingly, it was wide open, a sign that all and sundry were welcome.

She knocked, her nose catching the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Just what she needed to bring her tension down a notch.

‘Ellie?’ She turned at the voice behind her. Joyce, with an arm full of washing, approached. ‘How are you?’

‘Not good.’ Through her hoodie she rubbed the goosebumps that still littered her arms. It wasn’t that chilly a day, but her bones felt icy.

‘Come on in.’ Joyce marched ahead of Ellie and dumped her washing on the table. She had the kind of home one felt comfortable in – a lot like Mat’s. There was a profusion of clutter and, despite the small size, lots of nooks to curl up in and read or rest or watch TV. ‘I’m glad you came,’ Joyce announced. She gestured to her impressive-looking percolator. ‘Can I twist your arm?’

‘No twisting required.’ Ellie helped herself to a wicker armchair. ‘Feel free to put in a shot of something stronger if you like.’

Joyce chuckled, but didn’t reach for any secret stash. She finished making the brews and then laid them on the table with a plate of homemade choc-chunk cookies. ‘Help yourself.’

Ellie picked one up to be polite, but she was unable to stomach even one bite. Now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure how to start this conversation. Joyce was, in essence, a stranger. They’d never talked about anything more meaningful than baking.

Joyce sensed her hesitation. ‘I take it you and Mat had
the
chat?’

Ellie shook her head. ‘Not exactly. Conversation kind of blew up after you left.’ The cookie crumbled in her hand as her fist clenched.
She’d forgotten it was there. ‘Sorry.’ She attempted to wipe the crumbs onto a plate but Joyce waved a hand in front of her.

‘Don’t be silly. Leave it. Why did things blow up?’

Ellie crossed her arms. ‘Because I’m furious. And Mat can’t seem to understand why.’

‘Are you angry because she didn’t tell you, or because you don’t agree with her decision?’ Joyce cradled her mug in her palms.

‘Both. I don’t understand either. When did she tell
you
?’

‘Four months ago. The day she was diagnosed.’

Joyce’s admission was like a shot in the back. Ellie had always thought of herself as the closest friend Matilda had.

Joyce knew what Ellie was thinking. ‘Some things are hard to share with those we care about the most.’

Ellie scoffed. ‘What a crock. And you should have told me the moment I arrived. Does anyone else know?’

‘No one, aside from the medics. Mat didn’t want them to.’ At Ellie’s scowl, Joyce raised her eyebrows. ‘How would you feel if Matilda had told me your secret?’

‘Betrayed.’

‘Exactly,’ Joyce nodded. ‘And didn’t you only tell her yourself recently? Some things are hard to confess. I desperately wanted to tell you. I’ve been begging Mat to tell you since she told me. She speaks about you constantly, she’s so proud of everything you’ve achieved. I knew you could handle this.’

‘So why didn’t she?’ Ellie felt herself succumbing to tears yet again. She reached for the tissue box on the table. ‘I could have made her see sense.’

‘And there lies your answer,’ Joyce replied sagely. ‘She doesn’t want you to change her mind.’

The tears trickled silently down Ellie’s face. ‘I don’t get it. She’s always loved life. Why doesn’t she want to live? Why doesn’t she want to beat this?’

‘As you say, she loves life. She’s done amazing things, met amazing people, always been independent. My feeling,’ Joyce said, ‘is that she doesn’t want that independence taken away. She doesn’t want chemo – and all that it entails – to deprive her of it, and she doesn’t want to go through treatment alone.’

‘She wouldn’t have to,’ Ellie rushed. ‘I came home for an ankle, I’d have moved mountains for this. I would have been by her side through it all. If only she’d given me the chance.’

‘So you’ll stay now?’

Ellie swallowed. ‘Of course.’ An image of Flynn jumped into her mind. She pushed it away. There were more important things to think about than her heart. ‘Do you know how long we’ve got?’

‘Yes. At least, the doctor’s estimation anyway. But you need to talk that through with Mat. As much as she doesn’t want to need anyone, the road ahead won’t be easy.’

‘Thank you.’ Ellie lifted her mug and took a long, comforting sip. Now that she’d had time to calm down a little, she realised how awful she’d been to Mat. She’d screamed and yelled and acted like a spoiled child when she should have been understanding and giving. ‘I was horrible to her,’ she confessed, looking across at Joyce. ‘I just don’t want to lose her.’

‘I know.’ Joyce reached across and held Ellie’s hand with hers. ‘I don’t want to lose her either. But we have to respect her wishes.’

‘I guess so.’ But it pained Ellie. ‘I better go,’ she said, taking a final sip. ‘Thanks for the drink, and for listening. And thanks for being there for Mat. I only wish she’d trusted me enough to be there for her before now.’

‘I know. Tell her.’

‘I will.’ Ellie said goodbye and wandered back through town. She passed by the Co-op and bought a pizza from the deli counter, knowing that neither she nor Mat would be in the mood for cooking.

When she arrived home, the cottage was silent. Eerily so. She wandered slowly about the rooms, looking through Mat’s many possessions – some worth lots, others only of sentimental value. She fingered the collection of snow globes from around the world. They’d always been special to Ellie. As a teenager, she would choose one of an evening and ask Mat to tell her stories about where it was from. She wanted these when Mat was gone.

This thought startled her so much that she almost dropped a beautiful globe from Salzburg. She clutched it tightly to her chest and tried to remember what Mat had said about it. In the silence, she heard a tiny sob come from her godmother’s room. Guilt swamped her.

She moved to the door. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked, pushing it open. Her heart cramped at the sight: Matilda huddled up in bed, a box of tissues in her lap, most of its contents used and scattered around her.

Mat looked up, a tiny sparkle in her eyes as she registered Ellie. ‘Of course.’ She patted the bed beside her.

Then at the same time they both gushed, ‘I’m sorry.’

Ellie rushed to Mat, forgetting to be gentle as she landed on the bed. The other woman bounced a little but wrapped her arms around Ellie – the girl she thought of as her own – and pulled her close. Ellie hugged back, squeezing like she’d never let go. They stayed like that for some time, neither of them saying anything. Words were unnecessary. Tears were shed and the tissue box was empty before Ellie finally asked the question burning inside her.

‘How long do we have?’

Taking a deep breath, Matilda answered. ‘Three to six months. As long as I don’t come down with anything else.’

‘Three months.’ Ellie tested the words, thinking that was nowhere near long enough. Then a thought struck her. Terrified, she asked, ‘But what about your cold?’

‘It’s nothing.’ Mat shook her head and began to stroke Ellie’s hair. ‘Only a sniffle, and I’ve been taking my vitamins and minerals.’

Her touch had always soothed Ellie but today it didn’t work. A zillion thoughts blurred together in her head. ‘You shouldn’t have gone out the other night. It was freezing.’

‘I was rugged up.’

Ellie shivered. She had to ask. ‘Is it too late for treatment?’

‘Yes.’ Mat’s voice was firm. ‘Even if you tried to change my mind, it would do no good now. The only thing is to keep on living. Which means,’ she paused, ‘you should go back to work for a bit. I’ll let you know when I’m close.’

‘No.’ Ellie felt sick. It were as if they were talking about someone else, some
thing
else. Something trivial. ‘I love you, Mat. I owe you everything.’

‘Darling, you don’t owe me anything.’

‘I do. But I’m not staying out of duty, I’m staying because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’

‘What about Flynn?’ asked Matilda.

‘What about him?’

‘Well, if that’s the way you want to play it.’ Her sense of humour was returning.

‘It’s the only way we’re going to play it,’ Ellie retorted. ‘Now, can I get you some supper? I’ve got a pizza in the fridge and we can crack open a bottle of white to go with it. Then you can tell me some snow globe stories.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Mat pushed herself out of bed and shuffled down the hallway after Ellie. She sat at the kitchen table while Ellie put the pizza in the oven and poured the wine. ‘Do you know how blessed I am to have you in my life?’ she asked after a while.

Ellie shook her head. ‘I think it’s the other way around.’ And she did. Ellie’s few years under Matilda’s guardianship had made her
the woman she was today. Mat had taught her independence, self-sufficiency and, most importantly, confidence and faith. Now it was her turn to give back. And give back she would.

If they only had three months, Ellie would make them the best three months of Matilda’s life. She would look after her better than if she were the queen.

Chapter Twenty-three

The bush telegraph wasn’t a myth – news, both good and bad, travelled fast in country towns. Flynn usually didn’t listen to gossip, but when he was at the bank on Friday morning, he heard Natasha behind the counter mention how sad something was. Then, when the woman she was talking to – the minister’s wife – nodded and said, ‘Bless Matilda’s soul,’ he had to know.

‘Excuse me, but what’s wrong with Ms Thompson?’

The minister’s wife pressed a hand to her breast and sighed sadly. ‘Haven’t you heard? She has cancer, love. She requested the prayer chain pray for Ellie.’

The prayer chain was a group of women from the local church, including his mother, who rang each other whenever there was an emergency or someone was sick. If something bad happened in the district, everyone knew to ring the first link of the chain, the minister’s wife. She’d say a prayer, then ring the next link, and so on. Pretty soon half the district would know about the issue and a
dozen or so prayers were sent skyward. Whether it worked or not was anyone’s guess, but Flynn couldn’t see the harm.

‘This town won’t be the same without her,’ Natasha said. There were murmurs of agreement amongst the staff and patrons, who all seemed to have heard the news already.

Flynn’s first thought was for Ellie. According to Lucy she was going back to Sydney today. Would she still leave? She’d not mentioned Mat’s illness, but then, why should he have expected her to? What right did he have to know? His eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated her devastation. The bond between Ellie and Mat was one of the strongest he’d ever seen, and he knew what it was like to lose a parent. His instinct told him to go to her.

He shoved his card back inside his wallet without conducting his business, and started for the door. Once outside, however, he called himself on his actions. Aside from the day she’d turned up when Lauren was visiting, he hadn’t so much as spoken to Ellie in two weeks. Since that day on the farm when they were painting the sets, when they almost …

He couldn’t just drop in. Besides, he’d already arranged to meet Lauren for lunch.

He leaned against the wall of the building and cursed. It seemed higher powers were committed to disrupting all his dates with thoughts of Ellie. She didn’t even have to be near him to be a distraction. Would this ever change?

‘Flynn.’

He stood to attention at the sound of Lauren’s voice. Guilt weighed heavy on his heart. Lauren was in a tiny, white uniform – the kind that sassy nurses on television shows wore – but all he could think about was how Ellie would be feeling.

‘Hi.’ He cleared his throat, wishing it were as easy to clear his head. ‘You look lovely.’

Her cheeks gave away her joy at his compliment. ‘In this? You are
such a sweetie.’ Before he could anticipate it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was just a quick peck but it took him by surprise all the same. He smiled and resisted the urge to wipe his mouth.

‘Eat in, or takeaway in the park?’ he asked.

‘Takeaway in the park sounds very romantic.’

Not feeling the slightest bit romantic, Flynn let Lauren take his hand and listened to her chatter as they walked down to the café. Unable to think through the options, he ordered a simple toasted sandwich, but they had to wait an age for Lauren’s tofu-and-paella salad – whatever the hell that was.