A Nanny Named Nick. Miranda Lee
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lips, drinking deeply. ‘Ah,’ he said appreciatively as he wiped the froth from his top lip. ‘That hits the spot. It’s damned hot outside for early November.’
‘Long time no see, Nick,’ Dave said, trying not to sound accusing.
‘Sure is,’ Nick agreed. ‘You’re looking well, Dave.’
Dave smiled ruefully at the lie. He’d once been a handsome young man, but life now found him overweight and his light brown hair was thinning. Not that he cared too much; his life didn’t revolve around his looks.
‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked his friend.
‘Around and about.’
Dave shook his head and sighed. ‘I see you haven’t changed. Just as communicative as ever.’
Nick grinned. ‘Come now, Dave, that’s not true. You and I have had some of the longest chats in history at this very table. We’ve discussed everything from A to Z. We’ve theoretically solved the world’s environmental problems, picked every politician alive to pieces and critically analysed just about every book worth reading!’
‘That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Damn it all, Nick, you could have at least had the decency to inform me before you just took off for destination unknown. I thought we were mates.’
‘We are. But you know me. Never stay anywhere for long. I get bored.’
Dave wasn’t quite sure how long Nick had been a regular here before his disappearance. Only a few weeks, he supposed. It just seemed longer. Nick was a very interesting man to talk to. He’d been to so many places, had seen so many things. He’d done a myriad of jobs as well, from oil-rig worker to short-order cook, from chauffeur to brick-layer. You name it and he’d done it.
‘So how long can we expect to have the privilege of your company this time round?’
‘God knows. A week. A month. A year. Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘Hell, Dave, don’t ask me. I go with the flow.’
‘I’ll bet it was a woman,’ Dave muttered.
Nick’s normally carefree face froze, his dark eyes piercing Dave with a dagger-like glare. ‘What in hell are you on about?’
Dave was taken aback. This was a side of Nick he’d never seen before. The sudden switch of mood from easygoing to coldly aggressive was quite startling. Everything about the man had changed in an instant. His whole demeanour from his body language to his voice, which had dropped to a gravelly growl.
‘Nothing to get het up about,’ Dave hurried to reassure him. ‘I was just hazarding a guess to the reason for the swift exit from Sydney last time. I thought maybe one of your women might have tried to put the hard word on you for some kind of commitment.’
Nick visibly relaxed, immediately back to being the old familiar Nick again, his very engaging smile carrying a degree of amusement. ‘One of my women, Dave?’ He leaned back in the chair and took another deeply satisfying swallow of beer. ‘You make it sound like I have a harem.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘Not at all. I’m a one-at-a-time kind of guy.’
‘Yeah, right, Nick. One night at a time, don’t you mean? I’ve never seen you with the same woman in here two times in a row.’
Nick shrugged. ‘Variety is the spice of life, you know.’
‘Lucky devil. Still, if I looked like you I’d probably be the same. Though to be honest I think I prefer my own quiet and largely celibate lifestyle. Women are nothing but trouble. So you didn’t do a flit because some lovesick dolly-bird was putting the pressure on you for baby bootees and wedding bells?’
‘Heavens, no. I never get tangled up with that type of female. Lord preserve me. It was a lady, though,’ he admitted, ‘who brought me back to Sydney.’
‘Really? I’m all ears. She must be something to bring you back for a second serve.’
Nick laughed. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘I’d believe anything about you.’
‘She’s a nun.’
‘A nun,’ Dave repeated, shaking his head. ‘Good God, Nick, aren’t there plenty of available women in the world without you hitting on some poor naive creature in a convent?’
Nick laughed. ‘Sister Augustine is rising eighty.’
‘Oh. In that case, perhaps she’s just safe.’
‘She practically raised me.’
‘No kidding? Do tell.’
‘Not much to tell. Her order used to run an orphanage and kids’ home in Strathfield. I was dumped on their doorstep one day thirty-five years ago when I was a few weeks old, with a note saying my name was Nick. The nuns, and especially Sister Augustine, brought me up. They gave me the surname of Joseph.’
“Why weren’t you adopted out if you were so young?’
‘I was supposed to be, but the story goes that every time a couple wanted me, they would take tea with Sister Augustine, after which they would suddenly change their minds and choose another baby. Lord knows what she told them. Maybe that I was mentally deficient, or something equally deflecting. She’s always claimed she never said anything detrimental at all. She claims it was God’s will that I stayed with them. Anyway, by the time I was around two the nuns stopped showing me to prospective parents and I was safe to be spoilt rotten by them all.’
‘See? You had women falling in love with you even back then.’
Nick smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile, giving Dave a glimpse of yet another side to Nick. His sensitive side. ‘I think they were just lonely,’ he said. ‘Especially Sister Augustine. Her maternal instinct was probably starving for someone of her own to mother. Which reminds me, Dave—did I do the trick last year for that couple who couldn’t have a child? Is there some bouncing baby boy or cute little girl to gladden that poor woman’s unhappy heart?’
Dave was taken aback at Nick’s bringing up this subject. After his abrupt disappearance, Dave had never imagined Nick would return, let alone ask about the outcome of his generous act eighteen months before.
Dave wasn’t sure what to say. He’d lied to Nick about who it was who’d wanted a sperm donor back then because he hadn’t thought Nick would be too wrapped in helping a single woman wanting a baby, let alone Dave’s own sister. So Dave had invented an infertile married couple—friends of friends—who were having trouble getting a decent donor from traditional sources.
The temptation to lie again was strong.
Dave pondered his dilemma before rushing into an answer. It didn’t seem likely that Nick would ever meet Linda and son. No doubt he’d take off again soon. But, given the slight possibility of an accidental meeting, he could not risk Nick knowing he’d fathered a child somewhere. Nick might take one look at Linda’s boy and jump to the right conclusion. Then there would be hell to pay.
‘Er ... I’m sorry, but no, it didn’t take,’ he lied again. ‘The woman in question was not all that young, you know, so maybe it was all for the best.’
Nick nodded slowly. ‘You’re probably right. Actually, I did find it a little unnerving later to think I had a child somewhere whom I would never know—and who would never know me in return.’
A mental picture of Linda’s incredibly beautiful baby boy popped into Dave’s mind. Rory was Nick’s offspring through and through: jet-black curls covered his head and his wide dark eyes were bright with intelligence. At nine months old he was already crawling, and even pulling himself up onto furniture. His legs were long and his body strong.
Just like Nick’s.