Embracing Change (8 page)

Chapter Ten

I can’t believe I actually called Joel last night—I must have been more desperate than I remember. But I’m so glad I did. He really went the extra mile and the feeling of being cared for was just what I needed. His home suits him—comfortable, with a soppy dog!

From the journal of Sarah Johnson

Wednesday 19th March

Sarah woke at noon, feeling washed out but better. Joel had left a note on the pillow and she read it with sleepy eyes.
Gone to the shops. Be back soon. Joel.
She stretched carefully. Her tummy was a little tender but she felt hungry, which was a good sign. She drank half a glass of apple juice before pulling the duvet back and letting her feet touch the floor. Spotting her bag on the floor near the bed, she picked it up and checked her cell phone.
One missed call
.

She dialled voice mail and Ms Pauling’s voice greeted her. “Hello, Sarah. Good news. The company I mentioned likes your CV and wants to interview you on Monday. It’s more a formality than anything and if they’re happy, you’ll be able to start within a week. Give me a call to set up the appointment.”

A few minutes later, she peeked out the window and, seeing no sign of Joel, decided to have a quick look around his home.

The room next to his bedroom contained two desks, one covered with an assortment of cameras and equipment and a computer with a large screen. The other desk held a stack of papers and files as well as some colour prints. What really caught her attention, though, were the photographs covering the walls, some on stretched canvas, some professionally framed. Sarah felt drawn into each picture as she gazed at them. Fluid lines of lakes and sunsets, close-ups of a butterfly on a child’s finger, a feather in emerald, violet and gold. Each shot was a masterpiece.
He has an amazing gift
, she thought, feeling guilty for being nosy.

She opened the door that separated the passage from the living area and was met by an exhuberant mass of golden fur and a wet tongue. “You must be Shelley!” She knelt down and scratched the dog behind her ears, running her hands through her thick fur. “You’re gorgeous. No wonder Joel loves you.” She stood and wandered through the kitchen into the lounge, dog following at her heels. “Let’s sit for a while, Shelley. My legs are feeling wobbly again.” She chose a comfy padded armchair next to a recliner she guessed was Joel’s favourite spot. It had a notebook and pen on one side of it and a Bible on the other.
He’s really into his religion
, she thought as she sank into the cushioned chair, leaning her head back as she did so.

Joel arrived a few minutes later and dumped some bags on the kitchen counter. “It’s good to see you up. How’re you feeling?”

“Much better, but still weak and a little sore.”

“You looked awful last night.”

She nodded. “I felt worse than awful.” The embarrassment came flooding back again. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. It was a pretty gross thing to do—wake you up in the early hours and drag you out of bed to watch me throwing up.”

He leaned over the counter. “I didn’t mind at all. In fact I was glad to come and help—it meant something that you felt you could trust me.” He winked at her. “After all, last time we met you thought I might be an axe murderer.”

Sarah hung her head. “Don’t remind me.”

“Are you hungry? I bought a few things that might work with tender tummies.” He lifted up bananas, yoghurt, a bottle of fruit smoothie, and some plain crackers.

“Yoghurt and a few crackers sound good.”

He brought it to her on a plate patterned with yellow suns and moons before dropping into the chair next to hers. “Don’t forget the tablets the doctor gave you.”

“Oh, yes.” She put the plate down. “They’re in my bag.”

“Sit. I’ll go get it for you.” He came back, bag in hand and handed it to Sarah. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“You can tell me to mind my own business but I was wondering how you got shot? Was it at the same time as your fiancé?”

Sarah was silent for a few moments before deciding she owed him the truth, after all he’d done for her. “Yes, it was. I was trying to get to Luke and they shot me as well. The bullet tore through my shoulder and lodged by the clavicle.” She pulled the neck of her T-shirt down to show him. “It went in here and you can see the scar where they cut it out. I had physiotherapy for a couple of months and it’s much better now. It just hurts a little when it gets cold.”

Joel leaned over her examining the scar. “Do you mind if I touch it?”

She pulled her T-shirt a little further off her shoulder, in answer.

His fingers were gentle as they traced the outline of the bullet hole.” Can you tell me about the shooting?”

Sarah hesitated, her skin responding to his touch, conflicting emotions churning inside. “Not today. Maybe another time.”

Joel sank back in his chair. “Alright. How about telling me what’s happened since our chat in the mountains, then? Have you found a job, a house, decided what you’re going to do?”

“House no, job maybe. I just got a message on my cell phone. I saw an employment agent yesterday and she says there’s a company interested in hiring me. They compile tourism brochures and I’d have the choice of working in their office or from home.” She smiled. “I’d probably choose home, which means I’ll have to start looking for somewhere to live if my interview’s successful.”

“That’s excellent news. Do they pay well?”

“I’m not sure—I’ll find out at the interview.”

“So what type of accommodation will you look for? It must be expensive living in the motel.”

“I booked it for a month so I got a special residential rate … but it would be far cheaper to share accommodation with someone. I’ve been watching the papers and there’re plenty advertised. The only thing that worries me is I don’t have any references and I’m not a Kiwi. That might put some people off.”

Joel kicked back in his recliner and lifted his legs onto the footrest. I know some girls at church who’ll be needing a flat mate in a couple of weeks’ time. I could mention it to them if you’d like.”

Sarah chewed carefully on a cracker. “That might be an idea. If you talk to them they can say outright if they don’t want a foreigner in their home.”

Joel laughed. “You underestimate yourself, Sarah. You may sound different to us but you’re a lovely person. I’ll speak to Mandy—she’s in charge of the setup over there. There are four of them at the moment but Elise is getting married next weekend.”

Sarah’s heart constricted. She would have married Luke seven months ago if all had gone according to plan. She twisted her engagement ring round and round. They’d planned it all, from the little stone church to the arrangements of red roses and gypsophila. The reception would have taken place at a club in Johannesburg and the menu was stuffed pork, smoked chicken and garden vegetables followed by trifle and rich chocolate mousse. She had chosen her bridesmaids and Luke his groomsmen. The materials had been bought and her cupboard was full of patterns, lace and satin.

After Luke died, there’d been so much to cancel, so many painful reminders of what might have been. She still had the lace and material stored in a box in the roof of her parent’s home. On the day they would have wed, she spent time with Luke’s parents and her own as they wandered round a park, trying to stop the tears from falling.

“You’re crying.”

Sarah reached up and felt her cheeks. She hadn’t realised that tears were escaping and tracking down her face.

“What’s wrong?” Joel’s face was worried as he leaned towards her. “Are you feeling sick again?”

“No. I’m alright.”

He reached over and took hold of her hand. “You’re not. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

She used the bottom of her T-shirt to dab her eyes. “It was just the mention of the wedding. It’s stupid really. I need to get over it.”

His face clouded with compassion. “Did you have a date set?”

“Yes, in early September. It would have been a spring wedding.”

“I can’t imagine the loss you must feel.”

She looked across at him. Blonde hair curled rampantly over his collar and the tight blue T-shirt picked up the colour of his eyes. How could she be crying over the loss of Luke while enjoying the touch of a man she hardly knew? The thought made her cry even harder but she was reluctant to remove her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said eventually. “I’m far too emotional and being sick hasn’t helped. I’m really sorry.”

Chapter Eleven

Joel is unlike any man I’ve ever met. An intriguing mix of strength and softness.

From the journal of Sarah Johnson

Sunday, 23rd March

One week later, Joel picked Sarah up from the motel. “I think you’ll like the girls. They’re a great bunch.”

Sarah settled into the front seat, remembering how Joel had carried her to his car a few days earlier. The memory still warmed her heart, and flooded her with guilt. “Tell me about them,” she invited.

“Their names are Mandy, Trisha and Jade. Mandy works as a flight attendant for Air New Zealand so her hours are quite erratic. Trisha is a PR consultant for a national clothing chain. She dresses the part too—ultra-fashionable and very outgoing. Jade is a reporter for one of the local community papers.”

“Quite a mixed bunch.”

“Yep. They’re home this afternoon, so you’ll get to meet them all.”

The “flat” turned out to be a four-bedroomed house in one of the older, more established suburbs of Christchurch. Like most homes, it was situated on a long skinny piece of land and surrounded by a rustic wooden fence. Sarah stopped as they entered the garden. “Oh, my!” A row of trees flanked the side of the property, their leaves a blaze of burgundy and orange, and late blooming roses lined the driveway. “Look at them, Joel.” Colours flitted through her mind like delicate butterflies: pearl, frosted lilac, deep garnet, sunshine. She buried her face in a mass of buttermilk roses and inhaled their scent, delicate yet strong, filling her mind with memories of her mother’s roses a continent away. “I love it. It reminds me of home.”

“The rental includes a garden service—the owner’s quite fussy about the garden—and Mandy enjoys gardening too.” He led the way towards the house, which up till this point she hadn’t even glanced at. It was nothing out of the ordinary, a simple suburban box with red brick cladding and a grey tile roof. “It’s an old home that’s been modernised,” Joel said, as though reading her mind. “You’ll see once we’re inside.”

He rang the door bell and gentle chimes echoed through the house. A tall blonde opened the door, slender with loose curls clasped back from creamy skin. “Hi Joel … and you must be Sarah. Please come in.”

Joel put his hand on the small of Sarah’s back. “Sarah, this is Mandy.” They were moving forward, following her into the house, and Sarah’s first impression was favourable. The house smelt of furniture polish and soap and the carpet was soft beneath her feet. The walls were painted in muted colours but bursts of colourful accessories brought vibrancy and warmth.

“Come through and meet the girls, Sarah.” Mandy was friendly enough but Sarah detected a reserve beneath her calm demeanour. She led the way into the lounge which was furnished with plump armchairs in turquoise and lime and centered around a large LCD television. “We bought that to attract the men.” Mandy gestured with a laugh and flashed a smile in Joel’s direction. “If there’s an important rugby match on, they all come crawling out the woodwork.”

Sarah smiled and nodded, wondering silently if Joel was a big rugby fan.

“Take a seat and I’ll call the girls. Joel, would you like to get some juice out? There’s coke, apple and blackcurrant in the fridge.”

Sarah sat in the chair nearest the open plan kitchen and watched as Joel opened the fridge and set glasses out on a tray. He obviously knew his way round. She wondered suddenly if there was a romantic attachment between him and Mandy. Would she like to live here and watch the two of them together?
Stop it, Sarah
.
What happened to grieving for Luke?

A petite girl wandered into the lounge, dressed in cut off denims and a T-shirt. Her hair was a stylish mop of copper and red highlights. “Hi Sarah, I’m Jade.” She waved an arm around the room. “I’m the resident mess-maker, as I’m sure Mandy will tell you.”

Sarah liked the glint of mischief in her eyes. “Joel tells me you’re a reporter.”

“Yep. I work for the Community Corner Paper which is circulated throughout Christchurch. It’s a wonderful job—I get paid to do what I love.”

Before Sarah could answer, another girl walked in. She was shorter than Mandy and had a pleasant rounded face and shoulder-length black curls. As Joel had mentioned, she was dressed in the latest fashions which sat well, even though she was slightly plump. “Sarah!” She came across the room and embraced her, long earrings brushing against her cheek and expensive perfume filling the air. “I’m Trisha. Welcome to our home—it’s great to have you here today.” She winked. “I hope we’ll pass the test.”