Mountain Ash (8 page)

‘And Milly?'

‘Milly too. Of course.'

‘But why, Alex? Why us?'

He smiled. ‘Because you're beautiful,' his hand came up to stroke the side of her face, ‘you're young, which means I can be young with you.'

They were at the doorway of the ice-creamery-cum-café. And Milly was jumping up and down like a puppy. ‘Mum, I'll have rainbow ice-cream and can I have a waffle cone too?' Alex was looking at her with a questioning gaze over Milly's head, his strong hands spread wide, silently asking, ‘How about it …?'

Jodie glanced down at her daughter. She was beautiful. The best thing in Jodie's life. She needed protecting from people like Richard Muldeen, from the people in this town and places like it. The campdrafting accident had made Jodie realise just how vulnerable she and Milly were, especially now her father wasn't around to provide some sort of safety blanket.

Jodie looked back up at Alex. An older man for sure, but security oozed from every pore and, what's more, he'd been there for her so much through the difficult last twelve months. None of the younger men in town who were more her own age wanted a woman with baggage. It was like you were diseased or the second-best choice compared to the young, nubile singletons running around in their strapless tops and cut-off shorts. It didn't seem to matter there wasn't a serious thought in their heads.

Alex was waiting for her answer. He seemed good at that, patient, although his fingers were drumming the handle of the cafe door, as though he was nervous. It was kind of sweet actually.

He was no cowboy and she'd been on her own so long – for seven years in fact. Full-time study combined with motherhood and then caring for her father meant there had been no time for romance even if she'd been ready for it. She didn't love Alex, but perhaps that was good. If she didn't love him, he couldn't break her as Rhys had with his betrayal and abandonment of her and Milly.

She really had nothing to lose by giving it a whirl. Jodie nodded to the man waiting for her and, with her excited daughter, turned to walk through the ice-creamery door.

‘What about these shoes?' Jodie asked her daughter.

Milly was splayed across the middle of Jodie's bed, contemplating her mother. The little girl flicked a finger at the stilettos kicked under the dresser. ‘Try the other ones.'

‘I can't walk in those, Milly. You know I usually only wear boots. Even
these
heels are a stretch.'

Little fingers fluttered in the air. ‘Just try them, Mum.' Milly pointed again at the offending high heels.

Jodie sighed, took off the wedges and snatched up the stilettoes. Slid her feet into their sexy and strappy design, rising another three inches in a nano-second. Her whole posture altered in sync with the shoes. Bum in, shoulders back, breasts out. ‘There! Are you happy?' she said to her daughter.

Milly, now sitting up against the pillows, nodded and smiled. A dimple danced in her left cheek. Just like Rhys. Oh God, what am I doing, going out on a date? Men were
dangerous. They hurt you when they walked out. But it was Alex, not Rhys. Solid. Dependable. Mature. Focus, woman! Get your mind back on the job.

The sound of wheels crunching on the gravel outside caused both girls to look at each other in alarm.

Jodie glanced down at her shoes. ‘You win, these'll have to do.'

‘I'll go get my backpack,' said Milly, scrambling off the bed. Jodie gently patted her little girl's bottom as she took off out through the doorway. ‘Thanks for all your help.'

Milly spun in the hall, looked Jodie up and down, and smiled. ‘You look great, Mum.'

‘Anyone home?' called Alex from the verandah.

‘We're here,' said Milly, letting Alex in the door. She flung her hands towards her mother. ‘Ta-
dah!
Doesn't Mummy look beautiful?'

Jodie stood at the doorway to her room as Alex turned. His eyes moved over her whole body, taking in her fitted but modest dress, which ended just above the knee. He came forwards and took her hand, lifting it to his lips and brushing her skin with a kiss. ‘You look exquisite.'

Jodie knew she should have felt something at his soft and warm touch, but she didn't. She shrugged the thought away. You didn't need to feel something every time a man touched you.

Yes, but this man is supposed to be special.

‘Thank you, Alex. You look very handsome.' And he did. A navy reefer jacket with silver buttons topped steel-grey slacks. A sky-coloured shirt with a soft red tie. All the blue brought out the colour in his eyes.

‘I'm a little early so we can drop Milly at Muriel's for the night.'

Jodie started. ‘For the night?'

Alex fixed her with a perplexed smile. ‘Yes. Is that a problem?' He then seemed to consciously soften his words. ‘I just thought it would be easier than waking her up later on to bring her home. You know these restaurants. Always running behind time.'

He made it all sound so reasonable and for the life of her Jodie couldn't fault his plans. She just hadn't thought they'd leave Milly
all
night. Had thought they'd pick her up on the way home and that way Alex wouldn't think he had licence to stay over.

Jodie glanced down at her daughter, whose face was tracking from one adult to the other, trying to work out what was
really
being said. Milly wasn't stupid, but hopefully she didn't know enough to see through Alex's plans. Jodie did, though, and that made the drive into Narree very quiet while she wrestled with the problem of whether she wanted to make love to him tonight.

‘You're not saying much,' said Alex, leaning across to take her hand. Brush a kiss across her skin.

‘It's just the day, I guess,' said Jodie.

After the solicitor's followed by their ice-cream treat, she and Milly had gone out to the cemetery to place some flowers on her father's grave. Someone had been there before her. Probably one of his old teacher mates or someone from the chess club. Mother and daughter had cried together for a little while.

‘It gets easier,' said Alex, taking back his hand to change down gears at the roundabout that led to Mue's small terrace house. ‘When Elizabeth died, it was a shock, but you move on. Eventually.'

Jodie looked across at her date for the night. There was a certain tone to his voice, like he was trying to keep some kind
of emotion tightly under wraps. Was it anger? Regret? Alex had said they'd been married for twenty-seven years.

‘You never get over losing someone close to you, Jodie. But you do learn to live with it. I only wish I'd told her more how much she meant to me –'

‘Mummy, there's Mue. She's waiting for us,' said Milly from the back of the BMW. ‘We're going to have so much
fun!
'

Jodie swung around to take in her daughter's excitement. She was such a happy little girl. Not much rocked her boat. Not like her mother. Tendrils of unease were curling around her heart, squeezing it like a sponge. She didn't want it to feel like this. Not now. This evening was supposed to be pleasurable. She was supposed to enjoy herself. She tried to force her uncertainty back under lock and key.

Alex was turning the car into Mue's driveway. Mue herself was sitting on the verandah waiting for them, a frown on her face.

‘You're early!' she called from her place on the steps. ‘And the problem with that is …?' said Alex as he climbed from the car.

‘I wanted to finish my glass of sherry before young missy here arrived and saw an old lady drinking.'

‘Oh, that's all right,' piped Milly, bailing out of the car. ‘I'm used to it. Mum always has bubbles on a Friday night.'

‘Milly! You make me sound like an alcoholic!'

‘Hardly,' said Mue. ‘Since when has one glass a week been counted as being a drunkard?'

‘Since it's a bottle.'

‘Oh,' said Alex, sounding surprised. ‘After the accident, should you really be drinking, Jodie? And by yourself?'

Jodie scoffed. ‘I'm hardly by myself. Milly, Floss, Buggsy and Parnassus are wonderful company.'

‘Ah yes,' said Alex, homing in on the last name. ‘The horse.'

‘He's not just any horse,' said Milly, indignation in her young voice. ‘He's a very special horse. Grandpa gave him to Mummy.'

‘Yes, yes, yes,' said Alex, now moving to grab Milly's backpack, which in her excitement she'd left in the car. ‘Here you go, Muriel. I also have something else which might help.' He clicked open the boot and dove in to grab out a parcel.

Meanwhile Jodie came around the bonnet and gave her daughter a hug. She could feel tears starting to prick her eyes. Leaving Milly always did this to her. They weren't voluntarily apart very often, other than during school time and when she had to work. ‘See ya, mate. Be good and –'

‘Remember my manners,' chimed in Milly. The little girl grinned. ‘You don't think I'd forget, Mum. Not with Muey around.'

‘This might give you something to do while Mummy and I are out,' said Alex, coming up beside Jodie. He handed a flat, square present to Milly.

The child looked up at her mother with questioning eyes. Jodie nodded. ‘Go on, you can open it now.'

Milly didn't need any more encouragement. She ripped into the parcel like it was Christmas Day all wrapped up in one box. And pulled out a book. A thick cardboard one with press-buttons to make farmyard animal sounds.

Something Milly would've loved when she was three or four.

‘Ummm … thanks, Mr McGregor.'

Jodie had never been so proud of her little girl. It didn't matter that her daughter, at seven, was reading chapter books suitable for those aged nine. She still remembered her manners.

Mue walked up to pat Jodie's shoulder. ‘She'll be fine. Run along and have yourself a great night.' Then she turned to Milly and took her hand. ‘We're going to make patty cakes for the street stall and little missy here is going to be in charge of decorating the icing with hundreds and thousands.'

Milly's grin nearly split her face in half and her dimple sunk into her cheek like a buttonhole. ‘Yay!' she cried. ‘See ya, Mum. Mr McGregor.'

The little girl thrust her new book at the housekeeper-cum-nanny and ran inside, Mue trailing after, waggling her fingers. ‘Bye now, kiddies. I'll see you in the morning.' She winked at Jodie, smiled at Alex and went inside, collecting the half-full sherry glass as she did so.

Their dinner was delicious. The atmosphere of the hotel turned high-class restaurant was romantic. Alex was attentive, almost to the point of being clingy, like he couldn't believe he finally had her all to himself. Their dinner conversation was hearty as Alex regaled Jodie with stories of his week. The man had a way of making the most boring event appear exciting. Even in the tender moments of reminiscing about her father, Alex was able to make her laugh with some of the silly things Robert Ashton had done.

He was adept too at avoiding any subject he didn't wish to discuss. Like his son. Jodie tried more than once to introduce the topic. She didn't know anything about him. No one in town had been forthcoming either. They hadn't seen the bloke in years so he didn't warrant much attention. Alex dodged her dogged questions at every turn until: ‘Jodie, you can ask me
anything you like except anything to do with the boy. I really don't want to discuss it.'

And that was the end of that. She was starting to work out that whatever Alex McGregor didn't want to do, didn't get done. Ever.

It was after eleven-thirty when they finally left the hotel, past midnight when Alex drove through the gateway and started the car up McCauley's Hill towards Jodie's house. Now she had to face the subject she'd been avoiding all night. Would she let Alex stay the night?

She still didn't have the answer when Alex stopped the car, turned off the motor and sat in silence, gazing across at his date with a heavy look in his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow. Cleared his throat. ‘Are you going to invite me in?'

Jodie took in the intensity of his gaze, his heightened colour and the manly hand that grasped one of her own. It was dry and firm and yet there was a slight quiver. As if, despite all outward appearances, he wasn't sure exactly where he stood.

She turned away from his study of her features. Looked up at the Milky Way swimming with sparkling diamante-like stars. What if she decided to forge ahead, to say yes? In her right mind she knew he would probably never love her, not like the love you read about in books or saw in the movies, but she was old enough and wise enough now to realise that that stuff was the product of a whole lot of very vivid imaginations. Look what had happened with Rhys. So-called love just led you down the paths of pain and anguish, whereas
regard, admiration, respect led you to safety and a place that was protected. For both her and Milly.

‘Jodie?'

She turned back to the man. ‘Sure: I thought you'd never ask.'

The moon shone its silvery beams through Jodie's window, cracked open enough to allow in slivers of fresh air. She lay and stared up at the disjointed ceiling boards, which were shown up by the ghostly light. Someone had obviously repaired the roof at some stage. She could track the nail marks across the second-hand wood. She started counting the knots in the Baltic: anything to stop her from thinking about what had just happened.