Jilted (37 page)

He listened to his mum’s messages. Hearing the anxiousness and sadness in her voice, he resolved to call her and let her know he was okay. He’d been a prick not to call until now, but he just couldn’t deal with the prying questions and told-you-so opinions. As much as he adored her, he needed space.

His heartbeat slowed as he listened to the next message. Another one from Ellie. It sounded like she was still in Hope Junction, waiting for him. This revelation gave him a kick he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel.

Hi Flynn. It’s me. Again. I miss you. Please come back
.

Back to what? More heartache? She’d been unrelenting in her efforts to contact him, calling ten times a day, sending emails that he’d picked up on his phone. He wanted more than anything to
believe that she loved him and would stay, but her confession, her lack of faith in their relationship, had more than shaken him – it had near on broken him again. He’d been practically at the counter of The Commercial’s drive-through when he’d thought better of it. Instead of giving in, he’d gunned it, stopping only to pick up Rodger before hitting the road. And then he’d just kept on driving. Three days avoiding the pull of each liquor store and pub, of denying himself the drink he desperately craved.

He deleted the messages and dialled his mum before he had time to contemplate Ellie’s words.

‘Hi Mum.’

‘Flynn!’ Karina all but shrieked down the line. A couple of the Main Roads blokes looked his way and he shrugged apologetically. ‘Where on earth are you? Are you okay?’

‘Relax, Mum. I’m up north. And before you ask, I haven’t had a drink.’

‘Thank God for that. If only you’d called before now. I’ve been worried sick.’

‘Have you talked to Ellie?’ he asked.

Karina’s voice went cold. ‘She’s the fool, Flynn, if she doesn’t want you.’

‘Stop. I don’t need sympathy. Or a lecture. I don’t even want to talk about her, I just want you to know that I’m okay. Has Rats been popping round?’

Karina sighed. ‘Yes, Jordan has been a godsend. He’s a good friend, you know, but you can’t rely on him to keep things going forever.’

‘I know, Mum. But I’ll repay him some time. Please don’t stress about the farm, or me.’

A scornful hiss came down the phone line. ‘You can’t tell a mother not to stress, Flynn Stuart Quartermaine. You just up and leave and don’t call me for three days, what do you expect?’

‘Rats knew where I was. I told him to let you know.’ When his mother didn’t reply, he added, ‘Is it too much to ask for a little understanding?’

Another sigh. More regretful this time. ‘Of course not, darling. I’m trying. But this is
your
home, and she’ll be gone soon. You can’t let her keep you from being near the people who care about you, who love you.’

Gone?
His gut clenched. Of course she wouldn’t hang around forever. ‘When’s she going?’

‘I’m not sure. She’s keeping very much to herself. Lucy might’ve seen her at theatre practice, but your sister’s not saying anything to me at the moment.’

Karina wanted a definitive answer about when Flynn would return, but he couldn’t give her one. Every time he tried to think about his future, Ellie’s face popped up. He needed time to work out what this meant. He promised to check in every couple of days.

He devoured a pie and chips for lunch, and said goodbye to Stacey. He had a much needed nap at the motel and then headed out to Shamrock Station where he received almost as warm a welcome as he had from Stacey. Grant, Stacey’s father, took Flynn in his arms like he were a long-lost son and asked, half-jokingly, half-hopefully, ‘Are you here to work again? Never since you left have we been able to find such a good worker.’

‘It’s true,’ nodded Kyle, his scruffy curls barely confined beneath his Emu Bitter cap.

‘Sorry guys.’ Flynn shook his head. ‘Mum’ll kill me if I don’t go back. But if you need an extra hand the next few days, I’m more than happy to lend one. I’ve never been that good at being idle, even on holidays.’

‘You got a deal,’ said Kyle excitedly. ‘But first, you’re just in time for smoko and Mum’s prize-winning scones.’

Flynn stood by his word, eagerly helping out around the station. He was a sheep farmer through and through, but he relished the experience of working with cattle for a short while. Over the next few days, he worked hard from dawn to dusk, the manual labour exhausting his body and his mind, which he was thankful for. He was finally able to get a few good nights’ sleep, free of dreams of Ellie.

Guilt weighed on him for deserting his own farm, but he checked in with Rats daily. Rats loved the freedom of managing Black Stump anyway; his father was still head honcho on his property, and reluctant to give up the reins. This made staying away easier for Flynn, but it didn’t stop the barrage of calls from his mum. And Ellie.

Three days on the road with no one but his dog for company and nothing but Ellie to think about, then four more about as far from her as he could get, and he was still none the wiser about what he should do.

Chapter Thirty-four

There was only so much comfort Fanta and chocolate a girl could scoff, Ellie discovered, and only so much cleaning she could do to keep her mind off things. She also found that you could live on the remnants of an understocked cupboard for five days – the same amount of time it took to completely clean a house the size of Mat’s.

On the morning of the sixth day, she lay in bed longer than usual and contemplated her next move. She’d never been good at twiddling her thumbs, and her favourite movies – rom-coms–were out of the question in her current state.

She rolled over and picked her mobile up off the bedside table. Call her desperate, but she was still phoning Flynn two or three times a day. He’d been gone almost a week now. She felt utterly lost and bereft and helpless, but she figured she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. If she harassed him enough, maybe some of the walls he’d built around himself would start to crumble.

‘Good morning, Flynn,’ she said to his voicemail. ‘Joyce said she heard you’re up north somewhere. Hope it’s a bit warmer there. I’ve been sorting through Mat’s things and found some old Hurricanes memorabilia you might like. The things that woman collected you wouldn’t believe. She didn’t even like football.’ Ellie forced a laugh. ‘Anyway, I hope whatever you’re doing, you’re keeping safe and happy. Miss you.’

She hung up and clutched the phone against her chest, letting out a deep, mournful sigh. Although they went unreturned, leaving messages still made her feel closer to him. She tried to keep her calls relatively normal, the aim being simply to remind him she was still here, waiting. She’d heard through Joyce, who must have spoken to Karina, that he wasn’t on the booze, but she was still none the wiser as to his location, or his state of mind. Flynn staying away from the farm this long seemed unthinkable, and she worried about him more and more. If she knew where he was, she would simply get in the Premier and drive there. Immediately. Even if he wouldn’t accept her apology, her declaration of love, she just wanted to see him again, needed to know that he was okay.

A knock dragged Ellie from her thoughts and out of bed. She pulled an old dressing gown of Mat’s around her – she’d been wearing it because it smelled like her godmother – and went to answer the door.

At the sight of Lucy and Sam, her knees threatened to give. ‘Is it Flynn?’ she asked, in lieu of a greeting.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No, Flynn’s okay,’ she rushed, ‘well, physically anyway. We’re not sure when he’s coming back.’ She sounded apologetic.

Ellie looked at the couple, again making the comparison to herself and Flynn. But where the youngsters’ love was new and innocent, Ellie’s was jaded and losing hope. On the one hand, she
felt relief at hearing Flynn was okay, but on the other, it reaffirmed that he’d kept contact with others – and not her.

‘That’s good to hear,’ she managed. She even offered a smile, which she considered quite an accomplishment.

‘We were wondering if you’d like to come watch our final dress rehearsal this afternoon.’ Lucy smiled, her eager eyes full of warmth. Ellie wanted to hug her.

She nodded. ‘Sure. I’d love that.’

The rehearsal gave Ellie the incentive to pull herself together – to get dressed and make more of an effort with her appearance than she had in the last few days. She went to the Co-op – which, despite building it up so much in her mind, was largely uneventful – and bought enough supplies to last another week. She hoped that, in that time, something would let her know just what she should do with Mat’s house, and with her life.

After unpacking her groceries, she psyched herself up and headed down to the hall. As she entered, she could feel the excitement charging the atmosphere.

‘Hi Ellie,’ Troy nodded as he passed her, his hands full of stage props.

She smiled back warmly. ‘Hi there.’

Everyone who wasn’t backstage getting their make-up done or doing said make-up came to greet her. Jolie told her they’d missed her. No one looked at her accusingly or made her feel like sheep dung, and some of the coldness in her heart thawed a little.

That is, until she glanced up at the stage, the curtain not yet closed, and saw Flynn’s handiwork. The scenery looked amazing. She didn’t know how he’d found the time to create something akin to what you’d see on Broadway (well, close enough, considering
the materials he had to work with). Even when absent, Flynn was everywhere in Hope Junction. Their golden boy – an all-round nice bloke, hardworking, talented at everything he tried his hand at, gorgeous. He only had one flaw, and that was down to her.

Talk about thoughts to make yourself feel good. Ellie resolved to focus on the play, not the woeful scenarios replaying in her head. She tracked backstage, where the smiles and enthusiasm of the cast and crew were contagious. She sat on a swivel chair in the midst of the hubbub, and before long she was nattering away, passing hairpins and make-up brushes to the volunteers from Hairlicious, the local salon. It was fun. Relaxing. Ellie had gotten her own hair and make-up done almost every day of her working life, but there wasn’t this kind of camaraderie in the dressing rooms she knew. The
Lake Street
cast were friends, but they all wanted to be the best-looking on camera. An unspoken competition wagered between them – who could get noticed on the small screen and make it to Hollywood first. Maybe it was because she didn’t harbour any such ambitions that she’d never realised this before. However, she knew that if and when she returned to Sydney, she’d be comparing everything and everyone with how she felt being back in Hope. Even at her lowest, this town was more like home than anywhere else she’d ever lived.

‘All right!’ Mrs Ellery came backstage and her voice boomed, silencing the animated chatter. ‘Five minutes to curtain. Everyone ready?’

An excited chorus of ‘Yes’ answered her. Ellie took her cue to head out to the auditorium, sitting with Sam and Troy, the three of them alone in the hundred chairs set up for next Saturday’s opening night. Everyone else was either on stage or backstage, doing their bit to make sure the production went off without a hitch.

At the end of it, Ellie had to say they’d all done a splendid job. They’d come so far since that first day she’d watched them.

‘Lucy’s really good,’ Sam said, as the trio stood and applauded.

‘You’d say that even if she stunk,’ said Troy on the other side of Ellie.

‘Shut up,’ Sam snapped.

Troy shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to Ellie. ‘You coming out to celebrate with everyone? I think drinks are at the pub. Ellery said it’s the last late night everyone can have until showtime, reckons they all need their beauty sleep.’

‘Yeah, sounds good.’ Anything was better than sitting at Mat’s place with only her silent phone for company.

The cast and crew cleaned up quickly and everyone piled down to the pub. Ellie’s heart sank when she saw Whitney behind the bar and Lauren on a stool, drinking some extravagant, out-of-place cocktail. She braced herself for nastiness, but neither of them lived up to expectation. Although not exactly friendly, Whitney served her without a fuss. Ellie managed to avoid Lauren, and the locals were much friendlier than the last time she’d been here. But despite this, she felt a hundred times worse. What use was the town being kind to her if Flynn wouldn’t answer her calls?

As the members of the theatrical society got louder and louder and more inebriated, Ellie slipped out the door.

She kept herself busy for the rest of the week, packing up Matilda’s things and sorting them into stuff that she could give to charity and stuff she wanted to keep. She mentally prepared herself for the possibility of putting the cottage on the market. She dropped her calls to Flynn to one a day, not wanting to give up, but not wanting to put her heart through the wringer any more than she already had. She kept odd hours, sleeping much of the day and waking up in the depths of night to pack another box.

With each hour that passed, though, she lost a little more hope and another tiny chunk of her heart.

Chapter Thirty-five

Flynn turned his ute into the driveway behind the pub, looking forward to sharing another dinner with Stacey, Sean and their rambunctious boys. He still hadn’t come to any conclusions about Ellie. Considering he hadn’t a clue what his feelings were, it was hard to work out what to do about them. He loved working with Kyle and Grant on Shamrock Station, but he knew it could never be a long-term thing. A lot had changed since the last time he’d been up here looking for answers.

For one thing, he was an adult now, with more responsibility and life experience than when he’d left Hope Junction at nineteen. He had his dad’s legacy to fulfil, and his mum and Lucy to look out for. He couldn’t drift forever.

He whistled for Rodger to hobble out of the passenger seat. Sean and Stacey’s kids adored Rodg, but as he was getting old, he could only take them in small doses. They wandered up to the
house, where Flynn tied the dog to a post. When no one answered his knock, he let himself in.