Midwife in the Family Way. Fiona McArthur
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she died I had fallen in love with my wife. Yes.’
Ouch. Conversation stopper. What was she doing asking such personal questions? And at a funeral? Weren’t they all depressed enough?
The last golden rays of the sun began to dust the trees across the lake and it was time for the party to break up. Time for her to say goodbye to this tragically enigmatic Italian and get on with her own life.
‘Thank you for your company, Gianni. I’ve enjoyed talking to you. I hope I haven’t annoyed you with my silly questions.’ She smiled at him but didn’t offer her hand. Pure self-preservation on her part. ‘Have a safe trip home.’
She looked across to the activity. ‘I must help clear up. Louisa is going to Angus and Mia’s house for tonight.’ Emma could see Misty and Montana gathering glasses and plates from benches.
Gianni nodded and inclined his head as he watched her walk away. Such things he’d not spoken of for years. His words escaping from his mouth like suddenly released prisoners. It was a wonder she hadn’t run away from him, not walked. He shook his head and glanced around, looking for Angus. Angus waved at the bench he wanted to move and Gianni strode across, glad to have something physical he could do.
They brought the last of the chairs inside as Montana touched Emma’s shoulder for attention. He couldn’t help but overhear.
‘Emma. I know it’s a favour, but I wondered if Grace could sleep over with Dawn tonight…’ Montana pointed out of the kitchen window to the veranda. ‘She’s really missing Ned. I think a little friend might help just for tonight.’
Angus had told him Montana had been the first midwife to board in Ned and Louisa’s home and Dawn had been a baby then.
He watched Emma glance out the kitchen window at the two earnest young heads together on the swing.
She nodded and he heard her say, ‘That’s fine. We were having an early night anyway. I’m taking her up to see Mum tomorrow afternoon.’ Then he had the next piece of furniture to move and the rest of the conversation was lost.
In her peripheral vision Emma saw Gianni and Angus move outside to search for more chairs and suddenly it was easier to concentrate. Montana nodded her thanks. ‘How is your mother?’
Emma thought of waving hands and erratic attempts to walk. ‘She didn’t seem as sad last week, but her moods swing pretty wildly. I just wish I could keep her at home but she’s even too much in the care she’s in sometimes. I don’t know what I’ll do if she has to leave the centre in Brisbane. And Dad misses the lake.’
Montana hugged her. ‘There’s no easy answer and we’ll be here for you if you need to talk.’
‘I know.’ Emma shook off the melancholy of worry that she worked so hard to hide and returned to the practical. ‘What time do you want me to pick up Grace in the morning?’
‘It’s Saturday. Sleep in. We’ll go shopping early and I’ll drop her home before lunch, if that’s okay.’
Emma nodded as Louisa came back into the kitchen with her overnight bag and suddenly everyone was ready to leave.
Home wasn’t far and Emma declined the offer of a lift in Montana’s bus-like vehicle. The evening was cool and it would be good to clear her head in the twilight breeze. To have space to mull over the day on the silent walk home.
The sudden loud snap of a breaking twig pierced her reverie and her head flew up. Then she heard the unmistakable scrape of a shoe on gravel behind her just before a tall shadow loomed over her.
Emma’s heart flipped like those silver fish did every afternoon in the lake and her hand came up to her throat as if to hold back a squeak. Up until now the idea of being nervous of the encroaching darkness had never crossed her mind. This was Lyrebird Lake and the safest place she knew. But at that moment her heart galloped crazily as she tried to pierce the gloom to see the person’s identity.
‘Who is looking after you?’ Gianni spoke quietly, but there was a tinge of outrage in his voice.
She peered through the dimness and confirmed it was his face. ‘Gianni!’ Her shoulders dropped as she breathed heavily out in an exasperated sigh. ‘Around here we don’t sneak up and scare people. As long as no one does what you just did, I don’t need looking after.’ She sighed again as her pulse rate settled. She tapped her chest as if to reassure her heart all was well. ‘You frightened the life out of me.’ She started to walk again.
His dark brows almost touched each other. ‘You should not be walking alone, it is almost dark. Please let me drive you to your house.’
Emma rolled her eyes. ‘I thought accepting lifts from strangers was dangerous?’ she said dryly. She glanced around. Now they were standing closer to the streetlamp but between the orange pools of each lamp it was pretty deserted and darker than she’d realised. But until the silly man had put the notion in her head she’d been happy.
‘Come,’ he said imperiously, and held out his hand.
Emma looked down at his strong brown fingers, even darker in the dim light, and considered the implications of his touch. Did she want to feel the warmth that she just knew was going to stay with her? She didn’t think so.
Emma avoided his hand and turned to his car. ‘All right.’ But as she reached for the door handle his fingers were there before her.
‘May I?’ he said. ‘Please allow me?’
Emma stood back as he glided the door open. Touchy Italian, she thought. ‘No problem. Feel free. I’m just out of practice with people opening doors for me.’ She swung herself into the low-slung seat and glanced around the interior of the European sports car.
She read the label of the owner’s manual on the console. She’d never been in a Maserati before. Her door clicked shut beside her shoulder and she forced herself to relax back into the seat. The leather was doeskin soft and she wiggled her shoulders in it. Nice. Different from what she was used to, that was for sure.
When he climbed in and secured his seat belt she leaned forward slightly, anticipating the car’s forward movement. When it didn’t happen she frowned and resisted drumming her fingers. He continued to linger and she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. And you’re waiting for…? she thought with rising suspicion.
‘Would you like me to fasten your belt for you?’ He’d turned to face her and she realised she’d forgotten the obvious. She bit her lip. The man was scrambling her brains the way her hands were scrambling to get the clasp done up before, heaven forbid, he did help her.
‘Does the roof go up?’ She was gabbling but suddenly it was very close inside the car.
‘No.’ He reached forward and the engine started with a muted roar. ‘It’s a coupé. A Cambiocorsa 2007. I have one at home.’
‘Really? Only one?’ she said straight-faced. The car was black and low to the ground. She could see that. But she doubted she’d ever feel the need to hire one. ‘So you drove down from Brisbane? This is a hire car?’ And he had one at home. He was certainly from a different world.
His profile shifted as he glanced at her. ‘Are you interested in cars?’
Was she? The subject wasn’t one she’d buy a magazine on. ‘Not really.’
He nodded as if the answer was what he expected. ‘Then let us not discuss them.’ End of discussion.
Emma blinked. He’d assumed a protective and almost fatherly role, and Emma wasn’t sure she liked it. Well, she was no doormat for obedience. Think of your own topic, then, buddy, she thought. He didn’t offer any other conversational gambit and the silence stretched.
He was going tomorrow, she told herself, which made it acceptable if she gave in. ‘I live straight down this road. Barely worth driving, in fact,’ she said with less than subtle pointedness.
‘Si. And