Jilted (29 page)

‘Not that you would understand,’ Lucy started, relaxing a little in her swivel chair as a glow flushed her face, ‘but I’m in love with him. He’s all I’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend. Loving, caring, interested in me and supportive of my dreams.’

Flynn didn’t know what to think of this, but he hadn’t come here to raise his blood pressure any more. ‘Good for you,’ he lied. ‘Now, what happened when you visited Ms T?’

‘It was awful,’ Lucy confessed. ‘I mean, it’s only been about week since I last saw her, but she’s so much worse. She looks so weak and vulnerable, like she couldn’t raise a flyswat to kill a mosquito.’

‘How bad is the pneumonia?’ he asked.

Lucy shrugged. ‘Everyone kind of just used small talk, pretending it was all normal. I heard Sheila say to one of the other nurses that it didn’t look good though, so …’ She shrugged again.

‘And what about …?’ He didn’t need to say her name, Lucy knew what he was asking.

‘Ellie’s devastated, but completely on eggshells. She accidentally made Matilda spill her drink while we were there and Matilda snapped at her. Ellie looked like she was ready to burst into tears.’

He nodded, feeling the pull to go and visit Ellie even stronger now. If he didn’t have a date with Lauren, he very well might have. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Now get back to studying.’

‘Yes, boss,’ she answered, smiling. Her tone was far more jovial than when he’d first entered the room, making him glad he’d spoken to her.

Lauren met Flynn at the door, a glass of something sparkly in one hand and a beer in the other. She kissed him on the cheek – that was as far as things had gone since that night at the pub – and offered him the beer.

He smiled but shook his head. ‘I don’t drink, Lauren.’ She knew this – he’d told her before, twice, but it didn’t seem to have registered.

‘Oh, I keep forgetting.’ She waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Are you sure you can’t just have one?’

‘Definitely not.’ He strode into the lounge room and felt her hands on his shoulders a few seconds later. She rubbed her fingers across his shoulder blades and whispered seductively into his ear, her strong perfume enveloping him.

‘It might help loosen you up,’ she said.

He shrugged her off. ‘I don’t need loosening up.’ Then, in an attempt to change the subject, he asked, ‘What’s for dinner?’

‘My famous vegetarian lasagne and rye garlic bread.’ She sounded a lot more excited by the prospect than he felt.

‘Sounds delicious,’ he managed. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Let’s go eat then.’ Lauren tried to be upbeat, but there was a tension between them. Everything she said seemed to annoy Flynn, and although he knew this wasn’t fair to her, he just couldn’t help it. She fetched him a glass of orange juice and served their dinner on perfectly white porcelain plates. When they sat down, Flynn raised his glass and clinked it with Lauren’s. He took a swig before his first mouthful, which, he reflected afterward, probably saved a complete disaster, as the citrus slightly masked the taste of her creation. It was ghastly. Trying not to grimace, he swallowed the next mouthful without chewing at all. He’d never tasted anything so horrible.

‘You like it?’ she asked on his fifth reluctant spoonful.

‘Umm … it’s interesting,’ he replied, psyching himself up for another round.

Lauren kept trying to ignite the conversation but Flynn just couldn’t show enthusiasm, making the night even more of a challenge. He wondered what the hell he was doing there, why he was pushing for something so obviously wrong. If Ellie hadn’t come back, would he have even contemplated dating Lauren? The answer shamed him.

‘What’s up with you, Flynn?’

‘Nothing.’ He hoped his nose wasn’t growing.

‘It’s Ellie, isn’t it?’ Scorn filled her words.

‘Yes. And no.’ He didn’t want to talk about this with Lauren. No one understood how Ellie made him feel. Complete, yet totally lost – all at the same time. Simply knowing she was near made him unable to focus on anything else. Talk about tragic. Because that’s what it was. That’s what
he
was.

Lauren poured more bubbly into her glass and downed half of it in a single shot. ‘I honestly don’t see what’s so fabulous about her. Is it just a case of wanting what you can’t have?’ she asked. ‘Because she doesn’t want you, Flynn.’ It was a cruel thing to say, each word slicing deep into his pride. ‘The only reason she’s still here is because of poor old Matilda Thompson. Ellie’s just waiting for her to drop off so she can get back to the high life. Back to Sydney. Without you.’

Flynn looked at the woman in front of him, shocked by the bitterness of her tongue. He swallowed, withholding the angry words he wanted to spit back. Whether she was right or not, he knew one thing for sure. He needed to cease this ridiculous attempt at a relationship. It was his fault they’d gotten to this point. He shouldn’t have been so delusional as to think he could simply shift his interest to someone else.

Standing up, he said, ‘Thanks for the lovely meal, Lauren, and I’m sorry I’m not very good company. I don’t think anything will ever work between us.’

She shrugged as if she couldn’t give a damn. He nodded and hovered awkwardly. Kissing her on the cheek wasn’t a good idea – she might very well slap him, and he wouldn’t blame her – but it seemed rude to walk out without some sort of goodbye. The room was silent for a moment.

‘Well, I guess I’ll see you round.’ He walked briskly to her door. She didn’t follow and he tried not to think about the state she’d be in after he left. He felt like a right tool, but breathed a deep sigh of relief that the evening was over.

As Ellie closed the door of Mat’s cottage, she doubted rest would come easily. She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror and
remembered the knots in her hair. If Saskia could see her now, she’d be appalled at her appearance. Such things were never high on Ellie’s list of priorities, and now they seemed practically insignificant. Still, she needed to do something to pass the time, and so decided a shower was a good idea.

Despite the strict water restrictions for the region, Ellie couldn’t bring herself to hurry. Standing under the hot water relaxed her muscles, and washing her hair made her feel like she were doing something useful. Feeling cleaner, and slightly better, she plodded to her bedroom, dressing in her faithful old flannelette pyjamas. She recalled one of the scriptwriters from
Lake Street
, a woman who used to write magazine articles before she got a gig in television. She always bragged about writing being the best job in the world because you could stay at home and work in your pyjamas. Doing up the buttons, Ellie could see the appeal. The flannelette, combined with her fluffy slippers, was like a much-needed hug. Now all that was missing was comfort food and a movie she knew inside out.

Although she hadn’t done much of a shop the last couple of days, there was a packet of Deb instant mash in the cupboard. That, and a bit of grated cheese, would make the perfect dinner.

She took her meal into the living room, selected
Mary Poppins
from Mat’s collection of DVDs and sat down on the couch, covering her legs with a CWA crocheted blanket. The first spoonful of Deb was halfway to her mouth and the wind was blowing in Cherry Tree Lane when a loud knock sounded at the front door.

Ellie started, and a clump of mash fell onto her top. Sighing, she contemplated ignoring the caller, but curiosity got the better of her. After wiping the potato off, she went to the door and switched on the porch light. She peered through the peephole and almost jumped back. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, stifling a gasp as she glanced down at her dire attire. She thought
about rushing down the hallway to at least throw a jumper over the top, but settled for running her hands through her hair. Whatever reason Flynn had for being on Matilda’s doorstep, it surely wasn’t to serenade her, so she might as well relax about her appearance.

She opened the door. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her question sounded more accusing than she’d meant it to.

He grinned at the pink and purple owls covering her body. ‘Nice pyjamas.’

‘I wasn’t expecting guests,’ she said, her voice softening.

‘I won’t stay for long.’ His hands were tucked in his pockets again – perhaps he was nervous, more likely he was bloody cold. A sickly floral smell hung about him.

‘It’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything. You coming in?’

‘Sure.’ He nodded and stepped inside, then sniffed. ‘Did I interrupt dinner?’

She laughed. ‘If you could call it that.’

‘It smells delicious.’

She led him into the living room and gestured to her bowl of mashed potato. ‘There’s plenty more if you’re hungry.’

Now he laughed. ‘Hasn’t Joyce taught you main courses yet?’

She tried to scowl but couldn’t quite hide her amusement at his comment, or the glee in her heart at his presence. ‘First my PJs, now my cooking? Did you come here to insult me or do you have some other agenda?’

‘Sorry.’ He hung his head in surrender. ‘It does smell good though. Do you really have more?’

‘Sit down. It won’t take long to make some.’ Thankful for the chance to gather herself, she went into the kitchen, flicked the kettle on and measured out the potato powder. ‘Do you want cheese too?’ she called down the hall.

‘Yes, please. And tomato sauce if you have it.’

She grimaced a little but retrieved the sauce from the cupboard nevertheless. This felt strangely normal – despite the fact she never imagined she’d be sharing a meal with Flynn tonight.

‘There. Dinner,’ she plonked the bowl down in front of him, ‘of a sort.’ She retrieved her own and took the other end of the couch, mindful to leave a secure distance between them.

She took a mouthful, as did he. Comfortable silence reigned, and then he said, ‘It’s delicious. Much better than –’ he stopped himself mid-sentence.

‘Better than what?’ She scrutinised his expression.

‘Never mind.’ He shook his head and set about devouring more of the mash.

She got a whiff of that shocking aroma again and screwed up her nose. ‘Have you already been out to dinner?’ Not that she had the right to know, she thought, or a right to the spear of jealousy that was piercing her gut.

Flynn looked sheepish. ‘I was at Lauren’s place. We were on a date. She made me dinner.’

Ellie sucked in a breath, not sure how to respond, the reminder of her nemesis killing the camaraderie between them.

‘It wasn’t good,’ he said, filling the silence.

‘The dinner or the date?’ she asked.

‘Both.’

‘I see.’

Ellie was happy to leave it at that, but Flynn seemed intent on explaining. ‘She made some ghastly vegetarian dish – the texture was all … He made his face into a look of horror. ‘And it was so bland I couldn’t even decipher what veggies she’d used. I mean, I’m sure it’s good for you, but I think I’d rather be unhealthy.’

Ellie swallowed another mouthful of cheesy Deb, wondering why he was telling her all this, not to mention why he was here. Still, she couldn’t help the joy that came at his less-than-kind
words about Lauren’s cooking. That probably made her a callous bitch, but then, she didn’t pretend to be a saint when it came to Lauren.

‘Isn’t that a nasty way to talk about your girlfriend’s cooking?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Flynn answered, perhaps too quickly.

‘Oh?’ Inside her, every bone and muscle and nerve ending sang in delight, bringing on a rush of endorphins. Ellie only hoped Flynn didn’t notice.

‘Not anymore, anyway. Though I’m not sure she ever really was.’

‘I see,’ she said again, but she didn’t really, nor did she know how to treat this conversation. ‘Rumour is, you two are dating.’

‘We were.’ Flynn sounded ashamed. ‘But sometimes you go out with the wrong person, you know?’

‘Hell yeah.’ Ellie thought of all the useless men she’d dated over the years. ‘So why did you go out with her? Was it to make me jealous?’

He blinked at this. ‘Did it?’

‘A little,’ she confessed. There didn’t seem much point in lying.

‘Good.’ He sat upright, looking pleased with himself. ‘But that’s not why. I did it because I want to have a family one day. And if that’s gonna happen, I need to try dating people.’

‘I suppose you do,’ she said, her heart clenching at the thought. She didn’t know where this was all going, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. She tried to change the subject. ‘So if you didn’t come here to insult me, and you didn’t come for dinner …’

Flynn placed his empty bowl on the coffee table and looked serious all of a sudden. ‘I came to see if you were okay. As okay as you can be. Are you?’

Ellie felt the now ever-present lump in her throat expanding again. Holding in her emotions was almost impossible, but she
didn’t want to lose it in front of Flynn. Not when he was contemplating happily-ever-afters without her.

‘I’ll cope.’ She smiled weakly.

‘You don’t have to be so stoic, you know.’

She swallowed, hating him for being this comforting and sympathetic. She wanted to ask how she was ever supposed to get over him when he kept being such a gorgeous gentleman, but she was scared that if she did, he’d leave. And right now, she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want to be alone with her woeful thoughts.

‘I’m not trying to be stoic,’ she said eventually. ‘To be honest, I don’t know how to talk about all this. I’m angry at Mat, and I’m guilty for feeling that way. I want to be there for her but I can’t help being upset that she didn’t tell me. And I can’t understand how she can be so resigned to death.’

He shrugged a shoulder. ‘It’s hard to empathise with something like that, but in the end, I guess it’s her decision.’

‘I know, and I need to respect that, but I just want more time.’ She wiped her eyes quickly to block the tears, trying not to get hysterical. ‘I came back to spend time with her, and now there’s this, and she doesn’t have long left, and she’s stuck in the hospital for who knows how long.’

‘Ellie,
Ellie
.’ He tried to calm her down. ‘It’ll be okay. With a doctor like Hannah, Matilda will be back with you in no time. I’m sure of it.’