The Patterson Girls (20 page)

‘Sounds good. Maybe I'll come with you.'

‘Where are you two off to?' A shadow loomed over their table and Charlie looked up to see Mitch. She'd been so focused on Dad she hadn't even heard the bell above the door ring.

‘Round-the-world trip,' she explained, gesturing to one of the empty seats at their table. ‘Wanna come?'

‘Now there is a tempting offer,' he said, pulling out the seat and sitting down. ‘When do we leave?'

Dad glanced between the two of them. ‘I thought you two might be sick of each other after the road trip.'

‘Well, she is pretty annoying—' Mitch offered Dad a look of faux sympathy ‘—which is why I thought I'd better come check that you were managing to put up with her.'

Dad chuckled as he pushed back his seat. ‘There's a bloke at the bar needs serving. I'll leave you kids to it.'

‘You think you're so funny, don't you?' Charlie shot Mitch a glare, trying to stifle her smile.

He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms up and linked his hands behind his head. ‘Pretty much.'

‘Does the funny guy want dinner?'

‘Nah.' He shook his head. ‘I was helping Macca out on the farm this arvo and Kate twisted my arm to stay on for a roast.'

‘Bet it didn't need much twisting.' Although Charlie wondered why anyone would want to cook such a thing in the height of summer.

Mitch patted his stomach. ‘I might be able to find room for some dessert though. What's on the menu tonight?'

‘Apple crumble and ice-cream.'

Mitch groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head.

For one brief second, Charlie imagined that it was the same look he might get in the throes of sex, but she ignored the quivering feeling that sparked within and told herself to get a grip. Once she'd managed to overcome her errant hormones on the road, she and Mitch had had a fantastic few days together, reinforcing how much she valued his friendship. Above
all
else.

‘I guess that's a yes,' she said, pushing herself back from the table. ‘I'll go get you some.'

She returned a few minutes later and dumped his bowl on the table. Dad was now engrossed in conversation at the bar with an elderly gentleman staying at the motel. Mitch caught Charlie looking at him.

‘How's he doing?' he asked, between mouthfuls.

‘Good, I think.' She glanced around, speaking her thoughts as they came into her head. ‘Although in theory it should be easier on him with me here, I think he's really ready to move on and I'm wondering if there's anything we can do to improve the chances of a quick sale?'

‘Sick of Meadow Brook already?' Mitch teased.

She gave him a look and he apologised.

‘Sorry. What kind of things were you thinking?'

She sighed. ‘I don't know, only surface stuff because there isn't a big budget for renovations, but this place hasn't had a makeover since I was in primary school. It's stuck in the late nineties and I'm thinking a bit of paint, maybe some new carpet, fresh linen in the rooms, new tables and chairs?' Even as she listed all these things, she knew they probably couldn't afford half of them but it was good to dream, right?

As if reading her mind, Mitch said, ‘It's amazing what a paint job can do to a place.'

‘Yes, maybe we should start with that. I'll have a chat with Dad. How's the apple pie?'

He made a face. ‘It's terrible. I think you should box the rest up for me, so as to not to upset any of the customers.'

‘Funny guy.'

He shrugged. ‘But seriously, do you think Rob would box me up a slice or two in a couple of containers? I'm off to Darwin tomorrow with a load.'

‘I think we can manage that,' she said, thinking she'd miss his cheeky face. ‘How long will you be gone?'

‘Four or five days. And when I get back, you'd better have those paint colours picked out.'

She laughed. ‘What for?'

He cocked an eyebrow. ‘You don't think I'm gonna let you loose with a paintbrush on your own, do you?

Chapter Fourteen

Lucinda exited the plane to a sea of eager faces, but one stood out in the crowd. Her heart leapt at the sight of her gorgeous husband; his tall, rangy body, tanned skin and dark hair. His chiselled jaw and classic Italian good looks still made her swoon. ‘Joe,' she whispered under her breath as she picked up her pace. Although their time apart hadn't been any longer than the stints he usually did away, it felt different this time.

Running now, she flung herself into his open arms, relishing the feeling as he closed them around her and pressed a kiss into her hair.

‘Hey babe. Missed you,' he said when they finally pulled apart. ‘For a while there, I was worried you weren't gonna come back.'

‘As if,' she scoffed, linking her hand with his as they started towards the escalators that led to the baggage claim area.

‘Well, to celebrate your return, I'm taking you out to dinner so that you don't have to cook.'

She turned and cocked an eyebrow at him as they stepped onto the escalator. ‘You know, you could always cook, Joe.' Here she was thinking he'd missed
her
, when the truth was he'd probably only missed his domestic goddess.

He looked sheepish, digging his hands into the pockets of his work shorts. ‘I could. But we both know how crap I am in the kitchen. I'm liable to poison you.'

This was true and for that she laid the blame solely at his mother's feet. A typical Italian
mamma
, Rosa Mannolini did everything for her husband and sons, from cooking and cleaning to buying their socks and jocks. She'd tried to keep this up for the first few months after Lucinda and Joe were married, but eventually Lucinda had laid down the law. If her husband couldn't buy his own underwear, she would do it herself. At least then she could buy sexy black boxer briefs, rather than the ugly Y-fronts his
mamma
preferred. Lucinda shuddered at the memory. But she was not going to let mother-in-law from hell ruin her first night back with her husband.

She forced a laugh instead and said, ‘So, where are we going?'

Joe took her to a lovely Indian restaurant in Subiaco and they sat at an outside table on the footpath where they could enjoy the balmy evening air and watch the people pass by on their way to the theatre across the road. It was the same place he'd taken her over a decade ago when she'd first moved to Perth to be with him. They'd met on a Contiki Tour of Europe—she'd been on summer holidays from university—and it had been love at first sight. From their first kiss on New Year's Eve at the top of the Eiffel Tower, she'd known she'd happily move states to be with him.

Although everyone had said it would be impossible, she'd transferred her degree from Adelaide to Perth and finished her final year of teaching at Edith Cowan University. Joe had already been in his second year at the mines by then, which had been good for her studies. When he was home they spent long relaxing days on the beach or in bed together, drinking wine and eating fine food, content to live in a world that included only them. During his weeks up north at work, she'd knuckled under, getting ahead on reading, assignments or studying for exams.

Back then the only blemish in their perfection had been his mother. Now it was Rosa
and
the fact that no matter how much they enjoyed making love, they hadn't been able to make a baby.

She wondered if he'd chosen this restaurant to remind her of the good times they'd had together. Back before they decided it was time to grow up and get serious about the family they'd talked about for so many years, thinking they had all the time in the world.

‘Are you going to have a glass of wine?' Joe asked, leaning across the table and taking her hand.

Her first instinct was to say no—after all, trying for a baby and everything—but she stamped it down, deciding to make an effort to enjoy their evening together. ‘Yes, I think I shall.'

Joe's grin stretched across his face and she realised he hadn't been expecting her to answer in the affirmative. ‘Excellent. You enjoy yourself. I'm driving.'

They ordered the drinks and then their dinner—butter chicken, beef vindaloo, spiced eggplant and a mouth-watering dhal with cream and coriander—and Lucinda tried hard to make conversation that didn't involve her menstrual cycle. ‘Has Mrs White done anything crazy lately?' Their next-door neighbour was known for her peculiar habits.

‘Well,' Joe grinned ridiculously. ‘Where do I start? A couple of days ago I ran into her at Bunnings and she was very elusive about why she was there. Anyway, I went to the gym yesterday and came home to find her painting the front exterior of her house.'

‘What colour?'

‘That's just it. Not one colour, but about half a dozen. She seems to be painting a rainbow mural. She said there isn't enough colour in the world. There goes the neighbourhood, hey?'

Lucinda couldn't help but laugh, imagining what the rest of their straitlaced neighbours would think of that. Joe went on to talk about work—a couple of men who'd been sacked for misconduct—and then began on his family.

‘Stella has been sneaking out at nights to see her boyfriend,' Joe informed her about their niece. ‘When Ricardo found out, he told her she was grounded until she was twenty-one and she told him she'd be married by then. Apparently the moment she turns eighteen, they're eloping.'

‘Oh boy.' Lucinda laughed again, feeling a little sorry for her in-laws who had raised a very strong-willed daughter. Maybe that was a Mannolini trait. She imagined Rosa would have been a force to be reckoned with at seventeen.

‘Let's hope we never have daughters,' Joe said, before shovelling another forkful of beef vindaloo into his mouth.

Lucinda sucked in a breath. Right now she'd be happy with
any
baby, whatever the gender. Suddenly bored of talking about everything but their fertility issue, she put down her fork, gulped a mouthful of water and then reached into her handbag for the gift from Charlie. She placed it in front of her on the table and watched Joe's eyes boggle.

‘What is that?' he asked, as if she'd just put a dead rodent in front of him.

‘It's a fertility statue,' she told him, keeping her voice even. ‘Charlie gave it to me.'

Joe didn't look impressed. ‘You've been talking about our problems with other people?'

She shook her head. ‘They're my sisters, Joseph. You make it sound like I announced it on Facebook.'

He sighed and nodded towards the female Buddha. ‘And that thing is supposed to do what?'

Lucinda shrugged. ‘Charlie thinks it might help us get pregnant. It's a miniature replica of the Venus of Willendorf, which was found in a village in lower Austria,' she said, regurgitating what she'd read on the accompanying card. ‘It's believed she was a fertility goddess and lots of people who have had these in their houses have overcome difficulties conceiving.'

Joe made a noise that indicated exactly how much faith he'd put in something like that.

‘It can't hurt,' she said, feeling tears prickle behind her eyelids. And then more quietly: ‘Neither can seeking medical help, which is what Madeleine thinks we should do.'

Joe sighed again as if mourning the end of their carefree evening. ‘But we've only been trying for eight months. And I've been away during some of those peak times.'

‘I'm thirty-two, Joe.' Lucinda worked hard not to raise her voice or succumb to tears. He hated it when she cried and she wanted this conversation to be on an even playing field. ‘I know that's not ancient, but we don't have forever. As Madeleine says, if there is something wrong, it's better to find out sooner, so that we can address the issue. Get IVF if that's what it takes. And that in itself can sometimes take years.'

Joe frowned, reached out and took her hand again. ‘Do you want this
that
badly?'

Frustration clawed at her. Did he not know her at all? ‘
Yes
. I want something that is both of us, something that is you and me, something that we made together. With our love.'

‘Aren't we enough on our own?'

Lucinda went quiet, because as much as she loved him, she didn't know if they
were
enough, just the two of them. ‘Of course we are,' she said, wanting it to be true, ‘but I've always wanted to be a mum. You know that.'

Joe's grip on her hand tightened. ‘Okay. If it means that much to you, we'll do it. We'll go see a doctor. But you have to promise me something?'

Through tears of joy and relief, she nodded. ‘Anything.'

‘That if there is something wrong with either of us—' he took a deep breath and she saw that his eyes also glistened with moisture ‘—we'll work through it and we'll stick together. I don't want to lose you, Luci.'

‘Oh, Joe.' She lifted his hand and palmed it against her cheek. ‘I love you.'

‘And I love you.'

Full of curry, they bypassed dessert and went home to make love in the manner of two people who had known each other intimately for a very long time.

Chapter Fifteen

The elation of Abigail's first sexual experience with a stranger started to wear off the moment she stepped out of Heathrow into the dreary, awful, freezing winter's afternoon and realised she had to catch the tube back to Islington. She'd almost splurged on a black taxi but caught herself at the last second, remembering that now she didn't have a job she needed to make her pennies stretch. By the time her body clock roused her at half past three the next morning, the afterglow had well and truly dimmed.

Feeling like death warmed up, she rolled out of bed, shrugged into her dressing gown and tiptoed into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with two other musicians. Sam and Pamela had both been home when she'd returned last night but instead of asking about her holiday and making jealous comments about her tan, they'd launched straight into an attack.