12 Days At Silver Bells House (18 page)

‘Freedom.'

‘From what?'

Gemma shrugged. ‘From whatever you don't want.'

Kate didn't mind not having made The Decision but she loathed the uncertainty surrounding her. The antidote might be to trust in something. But trust what? Or whom? She'd found consideration and kindness in Swallow's Fall. She'd been pulled into the community and had made friends but still felt she didn't belong. What had Grandy said?
Got to see yourself, Katie, before you can be seen by others
. She'd had some peace the last few days. Had been surrounded by honesty and hard work, but it hadn't settled inside her enough for her to find her own painting of freedom. Whatever that entailed for Kate Singleton.

She looked down the street, towards the sound of an engine she recognised. Her lift had arrived. Jamie Knight, master sex-machine and giver of comfort and strength was in town.

‘Jamie's here,' she said, her heart lifting and a measure of courage returning.

If he wasn't already the size of a bulldozer, Kate would have thought Jamie had grown even more. Something about his demeanour gave a proud, fulfilled look to the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head.

‘Okay, let's get this bird in the oven or we won't be eating. Again.' He picked up the baking dish with the prepped chicken in it, stuffed with a lemon and herbs and sprinkled with seasoning and dabs of butter. He leaned down and kissed the smile on Kate's mouth.

Tasty
.

The seven-thirty news came on the quietly playing radio. What a homecoming Kate had received. The yummiest, sauciest quickie she'd ever participated in. And now she was starving.

Jamie put the chicken into the range and closed the door. Kate had prepared salads and had finely chopped vegetables for coleslaw — for which Jamie had made his own dressing.

‘I'd like to talk to you, Kate,' he said as he took her hand and led her to the dining table where he'd placed her Chardonnay in an ice-bucket next to a bowl of peanuts. Turned out Mr Penman didn't stock pretzels.

‘Sounds serious,' she said on a laugh, but her insides clenched. She took a peanut and crunched on it.

He smiled. ‘It is. But of the good sort.' He left her at the table and stepped through the partly-pulled-down wall and opened the sideboard cupboard where he kept the boxed games. Kate hadn't wondered about the Exasperation and Monopolise games until now — who had he played them with? Why did he have them?

He returned to the table with a large photograph album. He sat opposite Kate, spun the album so its contents would be visible to both of them and put a hand on top, as though protecting it. ‘Something wonderful happened today, Kate.'

Kate hoped her questioning smile was bright enough to hide the concern she felt gathering behind her eyes.

Jamie opened the album and skipped through four leaves. Kate caught a fast glimpse of family scenes, people outdoors, waving. Then he turned the album towards Kate.

Her heart seemed to stop beating. It was a photograph of the woman he kept in his bedside drawer. Whatever he was going to tell her, Kate was going to have to explain. But first, she needed to know who this woman was. And why Jamie felt so insistently that he had to show and tell. She put her hands beneath the table and crossed her fingers.
I've mostly been a good girl, Santa. Apart from the time I went looking for something that was none of my business
.
Please don't let me lose my present
.

‘This is Megan, my step-sister.'

His
sister
! She pulled her hands from her knees, rapped her knuckles on the table as she lifted them to cover her face. ‘Oh my God. This serves me right.'

‘What's wrong?' he asked.

She lowered her hands, feeling her face burn with shame. ‘I saw the photo you keep in your bedside table,' she told him in a rush before she chose not to tell him about her snooping. ‘I thought it was some woman who'd left you with a broken heart or something.'

He smiled. ‘And what did you feel about that decision?'

‘Well, I was jealous, of course.'

‘Of course?' He took her hand and held it on the table top. ‘That makes me hopeful.'

‘For what?' Kate asked.

‘Later,' he said, stroking her fingers.

He breathed deeply, his smile settling to concentration again. ‘I spoke to Megan today for the first time in two months.'

‘Has she been away?'

Jamie nodded, his mouth pursed as he cast his eyes down at the photo album. ‘She's not well.' He turned a page, then another, and a third.

‘Oh,' Kate said, understanding and shock colliding.

‘Yeah,' Jamie said. He put a finger on the edge of the photo showing Megan and her illness. ‘This was the last photograph me and my dad took of her.' He paused for a beat and swallowed his obvious emotion. ‘She'd been in the realms of this illness for a while, although we hadn't noticed at first…'

Kate put her hand over his.

‘It's not just about food,' he said.

Kate nodded. ‘I know. How old is she now?'

‘Twenty-two.'

‘And for how long?' she pressed, referring to the illness.

‘Better than some. Two bad years to date. Two worrisome years previous to that.'

Kate gasped, wondering what Megan looked like now. ‘And you spoke to her today?'

His smile warmed his eyes. ‘She's getting better.'

‘Thank God.' Kate had seen so many young models, as young as fourteen, starve themselves for what the controlling factors surrounding them wanted. Thin models. It was a mental illness, and often covered up by glossy
How to Avoid
magazine articles, or
How to Detect
health statements. And nobody seemed to care any more about this twentieth century illness that had continued into the new millennium, unless something sensational happened — like a person dying, or the press posting photographs of those who…

Kate wiped a hand across her mouth, attempting to stay rational. She had two female business friends who'd witnessed this illness first-hand. One woman, coping with anorexia in her late twenties. Another woman whose sixteen-year-old daughter had been struck with the debilitating mental illness. One of the main charities Kate's business gave to was an Australian foundation for eating disorders.

Kate was reluctant to ask the next question but knew she had to in order to understand the whole story. She'd lead Jamie through this conversation as gently as she could. ‘She doesn't look unhappy or uncomfortable with herself in the previous photographs.'

‘She wasn't. She wasn't pushed into studying too hard, she wasn't forbidden to go out and do normal teenage things. She was loved, very much, but not cossetted.'

‘What was she studying for?'

‘A business degree. She wanted to come in with me on Knight Works and run the office. Do the bookkeeping, the promotion and marketing.'

‘You would have let her?'

‘Absolutely. Family business.'

‘You said she's your step-sister.'

He nodded. ‘My mother died when I was eight. Dad brought me up, then met Megan's mother. They married, had Megan, then she died when Megan was twelve.'

‘I can tell from the way you talk of her that she's a real sister to you.'

‘Of course. I helped bring her up — when I was around. We always got on well, we
are
a real brother and sister. More so now, since we lost Dad a year ago.'

‘I'm so sorry.' Kate took a breath. ‘Was there one event that might have tipped her over the edge?' she asked, cautiously, knowing how difficult it was for Jamie to discuss Megan, but also understanding that he'd been the one to open up and he therefore needed to talk a few things through.

‘We don't know for sure. It could have been when her mother died although that was years before we got the first hint that something was wrong. It crept up on her and we didn't see it happening, then one day, it took over and ran us all down.'

‘And you looked after her this last four years?'

‘Me and Dad.' He shrugged and settled back into his chair, hands flat on the table top. ‘Dad had retired but I had to work. I tried to keep the jobs close to home and short-term but often my work takes me Australia-wide.'

‘You had medical bills?'

‘Not so much medical bills, more the never-ending search for the best counselling. And she needed constant care — and watching over. Dad picked some additional work to begin with, writing articles for an agricultural magazine. He worked in forestry and environment before he retired. It helped. Then it was just me and Megan, so I stayed close to home. Always.'

‘So where is Megan now?'

‘In Victoria. She's staying with a woman who treats without treating. She and her husband live on a farm in the country. It's a big bustling family. Five children. Three dogs, a few horses, sheep, chickens, llamas. You name it. There's plenty of work for Megan, once she's up for it, which I think she must be now. It'll keep her occupied with something other than herself.' At last, he paused. ‘Or at least, that's what's I've been told is happening.'

Kate reflected on his words. She was relieved about Megan being Jamie's sister, intrigued and saddened by what had happened to the Knight family, and worried for Megan. And for Jamie. What a hero Jamie was. A true knight. How often did an ordinary person come across one?

His family were lucky to have him. This town was lucky to have him. And Kate? She was lucky to have met him.

‘Is that why you bought Silver Bells House?' she asked. It couldn't possibly have been because he'd seen a shooting star. She didn't believe that. ‘Because of the country connection. Are you hoping Megan will come live with you?'

‘I'm hoping you'll come live with me.'

Kate blinked. ‘Me?'

‘I've been wrangling with a decision too. And I've made it.' He put his hands onto the tabletop and straightened. ‘I love you, Katie. I love you and adore you.'

Oh no.
No
.
No
.
No
. He couldn't love her. He
couldn't
.

‘I can see I've shocked you.' He took his hands from the table and placed them somewhere beneath - on his thighs maybe. Or his knees. And why was Kate so completely concerned about where he'd put his bloody hands? It was her brain she should be considering. And any possible answer her brain might come up with.

‘It's okay.' He nodded. ‘I just had to tell you.' He pushed his chair from the table and walked to the fridge, opened the door and pulled out a beer. ‘I wanted you to know.' He unscrewed the cap in the palm of his hand and took a quick slug. ‘I don't want this to mess anything up for you, but you've been through a lot of crap and lies and it seems to me it's best to be truthful.'

Oh God. Did he want her to be truthful back?

‘Aren't you going to chalk it up on the board?' he asked, with a smile, nodding at the forgotten lists on the chalk board.

‘You're being awfully calm about what was a pretty big declaration.'

He shrugged. ‘I can't do anything about what I feel, Kate. I love you.'

She held her hands up. ‘Stop saying it!'

His smile deepened. ‘This is going to eat at you, isn't it?' He leaned against the fridge and crossed his feet at the ankles. ‘It's okay. You don't have to love me back — unless you want to.'

‘I don't want to — I mean…' Holy missiles. ‘That's not what I meant,' she said. She put her hands onto the table to steady herself. ‘I'm sorry. I don't know what I mean.'

‘That's okay too. I figure you'll work it out.'

‘I can't believe you said it. I mean one minute we're discussing your sister and the next you're telling me you're in lo — You're in
…
affection-mode with me.' Craziness. Was it April Fool's Day or something?

‘In love,' he said steadily.

‘Don't you mean deep affection? Maybe a little adoration? Tenderness. That's what I feel for you.'

‘No. I'm afraid I mean love.'

Damn that word.

‘Why did you choose to tell me now?' she asked. And did he mean it? Had he thought this through?

‘Well, Megan's doing well. She's getting better and she's happy. That makes me happy. You happen to make me happy too. And I can't help being in
adoration-mode
with you. Neither do I want to help it. I damn well love you.'

Kate put her hands over her ears and gave him a right royal managerial look of disapproval.

He uncrossed his feet and pushed from the fridge door where he'd been resting as though waiting for the next bus to love-town. ‘Fancy a game of Exasperation?' he asked, putting his beer onto the table and sitting opposite Kate.

‘You're joking, aren't you?'

He pulled the boxed game from the end of the table where they'd discarded it the other night. ‘No,' he said, looking steadily into her eyes. ‘I'm not joking. I'll be blue. You can be red.'

‘Stop joking, Jamie.'

He looked up and grinned, the little frown between his brow sitting there, all patiently unconcerned. ‘How come you haven't said anything with a country vernacular flavour?' he asked, pulling the bowl of peanuts closer to him. ‘Thought you might have been holy-molying by now.'

Kate's mouth dropped open. ‘Because I'm speechless!'

‘Well that's a first.' He picked a peanut from the bowl, threw it into the air and caught it in his mouth. ‘I might even win this game.'

****

‘Come on,' Jamie said as he pulled her by the hand into the bedroom an hour later. ‘It's late. You don't want to play a game. You don't want to eat my roast chicken — although I have to tell you, it was very good. So let's go to bed.'