Jilted (35 page)

His eyes widened and he scoffed at her words. ‘And it gets worse still. You don’t
know
if you loved me? What was I to you? Just a little bit of fun while you worked out what you wanted?’

‘You’re twisting my words, Flynn, that’s not what I mean.’ Frustration clawed at her.

‘That’s the difference between you and me, Ellie. I
know
I loved you. Everyone else might have thought we were too young, but I had faith, I believed.’ He paused before delivering the fatal blow. ‘It’s only now I’m not so sure. Everything I thought I loved about you was built on a lie. I don’t know what to think anymore.’ He pushed up off the couch. ‘I’ve always known my heart where you were concerned, but now I’m not so sure I should follow it.’

No!
She trembled as she clutched Flynn’s hands. She looked into his eyes and begged. ‘Please, Flynn, we’ve already wasted ten years. Don’t let this ruin us again.’

‘And whose fault would that be?’

He shook her off, or tried to, but she held on tight, desperate not to let him go. She’d been so close and she’d blown it. Again.

‘Let go, Ellie. I love you, but right now I don’t want to be with you. I can’t.’

He tugged his arm free with a force she couldn’t fight. She knew that if he left tonight, he wouldn’t be coming back. And she knew the heartbreak that awaited her if that happened. She may have been the one to break off their relationship last time, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t ached. In the weeks and months following her departure, there’d been days she hadn’t thought life worth living. He wasn’t the only one who’d turned to alcohol. After losing her baby, and with nothing left to live for, she’d hit the bottle pretty hard. Being offered a permanent gig on
Lake Street
was the only thing that pulled her out of the abyss. This time, she wasn’t sure work would save her.

‘Please, Flynn,’ she cried again as he thrust his feet into his boots and strode towards the door. ‘Don’t do this. We can make it work.’

He looked back briefly, sadness in his eyes as he shook his head. Despite the past few days, despite his admission that he still loved her, she knew what would happen if he walked through that door.

Flynn didn’t mean to slam it, but he left in such a hurry and with such anger that the boom of the door echoed in the night air. He stormed to his ute, contemplating his rollercoaster of a life as he started the engine. The last few days back in Ellie’s life, back in her bed, had felt so right. That was why he’d avoided talking about what they were doing. He hadn’t wanted anything to break their magic bubble.

He’d known that real life would intrude sooner or later, but he’d thought it might have waited until after the funeral. He’d imagined they’d address their feelings for each other with an emphasis on the future, not the past. Call him gullible, but he’d believed Ellie’s story about her mother and being confused. He hadn’t for a moment considered there was anything like rape and miscarriage in her past.

He’d never felt so conflicted. Part of him wanted to turn around and go back to her, to be there for her now as he wasn’t ten years ago, to tell her the past didn’t mean a thing. But you couldn’t rewrite history. He’d grown up watching his parents’ relationship, admiring the comradeship, passion and trust between them. All of which made up what he believed was love. Real love – the kind that was there for you in life’s highest moments, and the lowest. He’d always imagined that one day he’d share that with someone. But that kind of love needed to be mutual, and he didn’t know if Ellie was capable of it. With him, anyway. How could she be, if she’d kept such a huge secret from him? If she’d let it ruin their relationship?

He stopped the car. Without paying attention, he’d ended up outside The Commercial.

Fuck
. He wanted to punch something. He also, obviously, wanted a drink. Apart from that night with Lauren, he hadn’t touched any grog – hard or soft – in just over eight years, but he’d never forgotten the taste or the effect. Not only did the liquid numb your thoughts and pain, but in a pub, you could always find solace in another drunk. Someone who’d listen to your woes and tell you that one more bourbon might just make it all go away. Someone who wouldn’t judge you, someone who didn’t make out that life wasn’t as bad as you said it was.

But that wouldn’t happen in this pub. Nor in the town’s other drinking hole. Not where every fucking person and their fucking dog knew his life story.

Still, they had to serve him. He’d earned every cent he had through hard manual labour and deserved to bloody well spend it however he pleased. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway. Maybe he’d just go through the drive-through. One of the out-of-town attendants wouldn’t bat an eyelid if he bought a bottle of Beam and a two-litre Coke. That’s all it would take. Just one night to get himself straight.

Chapter Thirty-two

Ellie managed to drag herself up from the couch where she’d spent the night trying not to drown in tears. Her heart ached as if it had been put through the wringer and then trampled in the dirt. Her eyes stung, and when she made it to the bathroom she saw they had an appearance to match – it looked like both had been bitten by mosquitoes, so swollen and red were the lids.

She groaned loudly. She had about an hour until Joyce arrived and the funeral car came to pick them up. She wondered what she’d say about Flynn’s absence. All she wanted right now was to curl up under her doona and disappear. But that was impossible today. She had to pull herself together – get washed, get dressed, focus.

Her determination lasted all of two seconds before her mind returned to Flynn. Maybe he’d arrive before Joyce, just so she wouldn’t have to explain why he wasn’t there. He was nice like that.

Yet, as she turned the taps and forced herself into the shower, she knew he wouldn’t be coming. She’d get a glimpse of him at
the cemetery, looking all handsome and dapper in his dark suit, but that would be it. She’d pushed this Mr Nice Guy to his limit. Tears threatened again at the realisation of just how much she’d stuffed up. Her life, his … if only there were an option to start over.

She dressed in the skirt and dressy shirt she’d asked Saskia to courier from Sydney. She did her hair and slapped on more make-up than usual. Toast was pushed down her throat bite by bite, which in her current state was quite an achievement. She was just about ready when she heard a car pull into the driveway. Joyce was early, she thought, but as she peered through the kitchen blinds she almost choked on her last mouthful.

Karina
. What was she doing here?

Ellie watched from the window, wide-eyed and frozen, as Flynn’s mum got out of the car, followed by his little sister. They both looked sombre yet stunning, dressed in near-identical black dresses. As the two women walked up the garden path, Ellie dusted the crumbs from her mouth and made her way to the door. She opened it as Karina stepped onto Matilda’s bright pink welcome mat. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the warmth and sympathy she saw in the older woman’s eyes was not it.

‘Morning Ellie.’ Karina smiled softly.

‘Hi,’ Lucy said.

‘Hello,’ Ellie replied, somewhat bemused. She felt like a fool standing in the doorway, but she wasn’t sure what else to do. She waited for Karina to launch into an angry tirade, but she didn’t. Instead she pulled Ellie into an awkward hug. Well, it was awkward to Ellie. Her head rested on Karina’s shoulder, where it felt as if she were wearing shoulder pads. Karina pulled back. Ellie didn’t know anyone who still wore shoulder pads, but on Karina it looked stylish, and not at all out-of-date.

‘Flynn told me he wants to be with you,’ she said, tucking Ellie’s hair behind her ears so she could look into her eyes.

Relief flooded Ellie. If Flynn had told his mother they were getting back together, then he hadn’t gone for good.

‘I can’t deny how worried this makes me,’ Karina continued, ‘but I have to trust that you two know what you’re doing. He never got over you, Ellie, and part of me is rejoicing that you are back in his life.’

‘Thanks,’ Ellie managed, heartened by Karina’s words. Flynn had said he still loved her last night. Maybe she’d been bawling her eyes out for nothing. Maybe he just needed some time.

‘This makes you family, Ellie. And family is there for each other at times like these. Is there anything we can do to help you today?’

‘Umm …’ Ellie didn’t quite know what to say. Perhaps she should ask if Karina knew when Flynn would be back. And she wouldn’t mind one of them making her a cup of tea. She’d been too shaky to make one herself.

But Karina spoke first, stepping into the hallway. ‘So, is Flynn in the shower?’

‘What?’ Closing the door behind Lucy, Ellie turned back to Karina.

‘Flynn. Where is he?’

‘He left last night.’ As the words left Ellie’s mouth, dread sank in. ‘When did you talk to him?’

Karina’s brow creased and her eyes narrowed. ‘Yesterday afternoon, at the farm.’

Ellie swayed and palmed the wall for support. The hallway suddenly felt claustrophobic. Once again, she wished she’d kept her secret buried. Karina was being so lovely – thinking Ellie was back in Flynn’s life – but now, now that she had to tell her the truth, she didn’t want to think about the kind of wrath the woman was capable of.

‘Oh,’ Ellie managed.

‘Oh?’ Karina’s voice wasn’t sweet and supportive now.

Ellie cringed, anticipating the outcome of what she was about to say. She breathed deeply. ‘Last night I told Flynn why I left.’

‘Yes?’

‘It upset him. A lot.’ She sniffed, determined not to cry. ‘We broke up again, not that we were officially together, and he left. In a hurry.’

Karina sighed angrily. ‘What it is it with you, Ellie Hughes? Why did you have to lead him on again?’

‘I didn’t.’ Ellie fought back on instinct, tired of being the villain. She hadn’t led him on, she’d merely apologised. He was the kind-hearted soul that suggested they hang together, the one who stopped the town from ostracising her, the one who came to her when she most needed someone. Who could blame her for falling in love with such a noble heart? ‘And I don’t really want to discuss this with you, or anyone, right now. Maybe you should talk to Flynn instead.’

‘I would, if I knew where he was. We thought he was here, with you.’ Karina’s words stung. She took her mobile out of her clutch. Lucy didn’t say anything, she just looked at Ellie with a baffled expression.

Ellie shivered and her knees locked, her thoughts paralysing her. What if Flynn had gone on a bender again, because of her?

Karina seemed to have the same fears. She was already on the phone to Rats, who must have only just returned from his honeymoon. ‘Jordan, it’s Karina … Yes, I’ll be there … I’m just wondering, have you seen Flynn this morning?’ There was a long pause, then Karina grabbed Lucy’s arm and nodded towards the door. ‘No, he’s not with her.’

Shrugging apologetically to Ellie, Lucy opened the door for her mother and followed her out. Ellie stared after them, hearing snippets of Karina telling Rats that Flynn had been dumped again. For the first time in her life, Ellie felt like punching something. It
was only the thought of not wanting to break any more of Mat’s things that stopped her.

She took a deep breath. This was the day she was laying Matilda to rest. She’d be damned if she let Karina Quartermaine or any other member of Hope Junction ruin it.

Shutting the door, she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror. Ugh. She looked like a bad clone of Morticia Addams. She glanced around at the bright colours of Matilda’s home and imagined her godmother scowling at her grim outfit. She’d hated funerals – she would’ve avoided having one altogether if it were legal – and she’d be appalled to think the whole town was dressed in a dour fashion because of her.

Ellie wandered through the house, taking in Mat’s wonderful array of treasures. She lingered in each room, knowing that when she returned tonight, Mat would really be gone, and she’d be more alone than ever.

Flynn wasn’t at the cemetery. The whole town had turned out, or so it seemed, but Flynn was noticeably absent. As was Mat’s younger brother, but that was more understandable – he was unable to leave his overseas posting at such short notice. Mat hadn’t believed there was any point in him coming to see a dead body anyway, and had told him so in no uncertain terms. She’d visited him plenty in the last few years – although she was officially retired from writing, the travel bug was not so easily repressed. She’d followed him around the world, visiting him at every place, and he would miss her dearly.

Ellie also thought briefly of Mat’s lost love, Tom, and wondered if she should have told him. Then again, she’d stuffed up enough in her own life lately, it was probably best she’d let Tom be. Joyce had informed Dougal, who’d sent his condolences.

Mud-covered cars lined the streets leading up to the burial site. The coffin would be carried by four young farmers for whom Matilda had been Scout Leader. Ellie went ahead with Joyce to stand at the front of the procession.

The two were quite the sight. Ellie couldn’t change the fact that locals would follow tradition and wear customary funeral clothes, as they had, but in the end she’d decided not to join them. Today was about celebrating Mat’s life, not having a contest over who could be the most downcast and depressed. So instead she’d changed into a bright fuchsia maxi dress – perhaps a little cool for the September weather, but her black woollen shrug would deal with the chill. She knew Matilda would have loved the massive flowers splattering the skirt.

She’d also picked one of Matilda’s pink spider orchids to go in her hair. Its luscious scent instantly recalled Mat tending her garden.

‘They were one of her favourites,’ Joyce said. In terms of outfit, she’d come to the same decision as Ellie. Her bright purple-and-orange dress looked like something out of a Bollywood film. When Joyce had come to collect her, Ellie couldn’t help laughing, a bubble of tension popping inside her.

‘Do you think we stand out awfully?’ she asked now, her speech folded in her hands.