The Wedding Countdown. Barbara Hannay
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shoulder.
‘Well, Tub—sorry, Paul—I’d say you could probably stretch that territory at least as far as the whole east coast of Australia. I’ve been congratulating Tessa already and admiring her superb engagement ring. It’s quite a spectacular rock. I wish you both all the very best, and I’m looking forward to being part of the nuptial celebrations.’
‘You’re staying for the wedding?’ The question sprang from Tessa’s lips like the cry of a startled cockatoo.
‘Of course,’ replied Isaac smoothly. ‘I couldn’t miss out on the big day. Hell, Tess, I’m family. You wouldn’t turn me away, would you?’
Of course I would, her mind screamed.
‘Certainly not,’ answered Paul heartily. ‘The more the merrier. Everyone who’s anyone in Townsville will be there. I’m sure Rosalind’s already included you on our guest list.’ He added this as his future mother-in-law stepped onto the deck.
‘Paul, how lovely.’ Rosalind smiled a warm greeting. Her eyes frosted a little as they moved to Isaac. ‘Did I overhear you saying you intend to come to the wedding, Isaac?’
‘Yes,’ Paul cut in eagerly before Isaac could reply. ‘That’ll be fine, won’t it, Ros?’
Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa glimpsed the upward movement of Isaac’s eyebrow. Ros? Zac? She’d never heard Paul shorten either Rosalind’s or Isaac’s names before. No one ever did. She wondered if Paul was dredging up bonhomie to cover a sudden rush of insecurity. But surely he didn’t know anything that could make him feel threatened by Isaac?
‘Isaac must come if he’d like to,’ Rosalind replied carefully.
‘Thank you,’ said Isaac. ‘I would certainly be honoured to attend Townsville’s wedding of the year.’
‘Wedding of the year? Oh, I don’t know about that, but we’re trying hard.’ Rosalind laughed. ‘We just have to keep both Tessa’s feet on the ground for the rest of the week.’
‘Getting light-headed with excitement?’ queried Isaac, eyeing Tessa darkly.
As she met his penetrating glance, Tessa felt her heart jolt so savagely she feared another wave of dizziness.
‘Take good care of our little girl over the next few days, Paul,’ said Rosalind pointedly. ‘She almost fainted this afternoon.’
‘Good heavens!’ Paul squinted at Tessa, examining her closely. ‘Are you feeling better now, dear?’ he asked.
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ Tessa responded quickly. ‘I just got a nasty shock, that’s all. Nothing at all for you to worry about, Paul. Dad’s keeping a close professional eye on me.’
But Isaac was staring at her with a strange expression, and she quickly turned her back on him. Despite the fresh evening air sweeping in from the Coral Sea, she felt dreadfully claustrophobic.
‘Can I help with dinner, Mum?’ she asked. ‘Paul, you’ll eat with us, won’t you?’ Before he could reply, she rushed on. ‘I’ll leave you folk to get reacquainted. You know how to help yourselves to the bar, don’t you? I’m sure Dad will join you in a moment.’
She knew her rapid withdrawal was cowardly, but suddenly there were too many people, too many issues. If she was to avoid making a complete fool of herself, she had to get away.
She stumbled into the kitchen and slumped against a bench. ‘I can’t do this!’ she cried aloud. ‘I’m going to go mad before this week’s out.’ Her fist slammed onto the bench so fiercely it hurt, but she hardly noticed. The rest of her was already hurting, smarting, bruised.
She took a long, deep breath and then another. There was only one way to cope with this dreadful situation, she decided. She had to keep busily focused on little tasks. After all, when she really thought about it, every day was made up of a string of little tasks. It should be straightforward. Her mission was to get through the next four days. If she gave each separate task her devoted attention, she would find herself at the end of the week in no time at all, and this whole ordeal with Isaac would be over.
She’d be married.
Feeling slightly stronger, Tessa set about the first task, preparing the Thai chicken stir fry that she and her mother had planned. She dragged Rosalind’s huge wok out of the cupboard and began to assemble the ingredients. Chicken strips, capsicum, carrots, snow peas. There was a bottle of sweet chilli sauce in the fridge. Excellent. And some fresh coriander…
She flicked the switch on the transistor radio, and the strains of Ella Fitzgerald crooning ‘Summertime’ filled the room. That was better. The lush swell of the music began to calm her. Tessa kicked off her shoes and padded about the kitchen in her bare feet as she found a chopping board and a suitable knife. Then she began to slice the carrots.
‘Need a hand?’
Tessa swung round, and her sudden movement sent a carrot rolling off the bench. Isaac was standing mere inches behind her.
‘Whoa!’ He ducked and neatly caught the vegetable centimetres from the floor.
‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped, her heart wildly thumping again.
‘Rescuing falling carrots.’ He grinned. ‘And clearly not enjoying the warmth of your welcome.’
‘I’m glad you’ve got the message.’
‘That I’m not welcome?’
‘Exactly. I came in here to get some peace.’
‘But this is a big job, Tess.’ Isaac surveyed the assembled collection of vegetables. ‘You’ll be chopping here for ages. You need another pair of hands.’
‘Mum will be in soon.’
‘I don’t think so. She’s on the phone to some relative of Paul’s having an in-depth conversation about seating arrangements at the reception. Things were getting a touch heated.’
Isaac sauntered across the room and picked up another chopping board before selecting a sharp knife.
‘Give me a job, Tessa.’
She glared at him. ‘If you insist, I’ll need some onions sliced. You can do that. You’ll find them in the bottom of the pantry.’ It would serve him right if the onions made his eyes water, she thought triumphantly as she turned once more to her carrots. Why couldn’t Isaac leave her alone? She offered him her back as she chopped slowly and carefully, angling the knife to produce slim oval slices.
‘Summertime’ finished on the radio, and Ella Fitzgerald began another number. The instant Tessa heard the opening bars of ‘I’m In the Mood for Love,’ her hand shot out to snap the radio off. And in the echoing silence, she heard Isaac’s knife drumming rhythmically against the wooden board. She turned. Isaac was slicing onions with the speed and dexterity of a professional chef. ‘Isaac! Where on earth did you learn to chop onions like that?’
He looked up, feigning innocence. ‘Like what?’
Tessa rolled her eyes. ‘I thought it was mining engineering you’ve been studying, not cooking.’
Isaac slid the pile of finely sliced onions into a bowl and picked up a capsicum. He tossed it lightly then held it out as if studying the smooth, bright red skin. ‘I’ve discovered all sorts of hidden talents in the last nine years, Tess.’
Tessa’s eyes closed automatically as a wave of painful jealousy washed over her. Jealousy for all those years in Isaac’s life she hadn’t shared. What had he been doing? And who had shared all these hidden talents?
Why should she care?
‘I dare say you’ve learned a great deal, too,’ he added and shot her a searching glance. Then his face relaxed into a mocking grin as his gaze rested on her small pile of carrots. ‘But perhaps not in the kitchen.’
‘You