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Authors: Anya Forest

A Southern Star (11 page)

BOOK: A Southern Star
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“Privately,” the other woman emphasised. “Only because he was concerned about you and the baby.” Christie’s mind whirled as she realised what Valerie was saying, the assumption she had made. That Blake had made.
 

“I’m nearly three months pregnant,” Christie said, noticing the shock Valerie carefully concealed behind a professional mask.
 

“Well, Blake’s been waiting outside with Ian, until recently, anyway. I think he’s just left. Let me see if I can catch him.” She smiled at Christie. “And of course you’ve had Mark waiting as well, and Lisa. Quite a support crew.” She left the room before Christie could protest, returned to confirm Blake had gone.

“Christie.” She turned as Valerie spoke to her. “I would prefer that you stayed with us for a few days until you catch up on some sleep. I’m going over on the ferry early on Tuesday, why don’t you come with me, go to the doctor for a thorough check—up?”
 

Christie nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll get my roster changed.”
 

Valerie pulled her chair closer to Christie’s bed. “Now, Christie,” she said in a more motherly tone, “what’s all this about a pregnancy?” Christie burst into tears.

— # —

Four days later, Christie was feeling much better physically, had been to the doctor, started making plans. The financial implications were huge; Christie had worried endlessly about how to support a baby she had resolved to keep, despite everything. She did not think she could stay on the island, but the rents in Auckland, in Tauranga, the only place she had relatives…Again and again she had been through the figures, trying to work out how long her savings would last.

She bitterly regretted the six month contract she had so blithely accepted, never dreaming she was pregnant. With Paul. Who had only reacted with scorn, anger when she had called him. Even now his contemptuous words, his comment that she was simply being needy, rang in her head, shocking her.
There would be no support there,
she realised.
And her parents, on an extended trip of a lifetime around Australia…there was little point in moving back to Tauranga in their absence.

At Valerie’s urging, she had looked into paid parental leave, realised she would not qualify, looked at other government assistance. The savings she had would comfortably see her through if she was careful.
I’ll just need to keep working, saving as long as I can,
she told herself.

Lisa had called in to see her each day after work, obviously concerned, unaware of the reason Christie had fainted. Lisa had casually passed on Mark’s best wishes, was wholly silent about Blake. Christie cautiously took Lisa into her confidence, knowing Blake would tell her anyway, that her pregnancy would soon be common knowledge. Still hurt by Amanda’s betrayal, Christie shared only the bare minimum of information; was surprised and touched by Lisa’s immediate understanding and support.
 

Gradually, Christie found herself discussing more details with Lisa as Lisa tactfully asked about Christie’s plans, her circumstances. “I don’t know yet,” Christie said, trying to be matter-of-fact. Lisa had pressed her for specifics, instantly realising the financial implications.
 

Christie found herself reflecting on Lisa’s words as she walked along the promenade a few days after she had returned to the crib. Christie was doubtful about returning to Auckland; her career was there but it would mean still seeing Paul and Amanda professionally, paying city rents and prices while supporting a newborn, until she could work again. Dully, Christie realised that the lifestyle she would have with a newborn would hardly mesh with that of her friends in Auckland, the majority of them still career focused, planning travel, socialising heavily.

Christie had contacted her former employer, asking about contracting, working remotely, sounding out options.
At least that will give me some flexibility about where I live,
she thought. She remained anxious about where to move to, trying to weigh up the pros and cons of different locations. She thought of her tramp to Mason Bay; it seemed a lifetime ago yet it was indelibly etched in her mind, together with—Blake.

Christie walked further along the promenade, heading for one of the worn wooden picnic tables, wanting to sit and look out over the harbour, watch the boats. She took a seat, watching the ferry arrive, the tourists spill out onto the wharf, waiting for their luggage. She caught her breath as a tall, distinctive figure shouldered a pack, moved past the dawdling tourists, knowing it was Blake. Blake, who had not visited her at all despite carrying her to Ian’s place, apparently concerned enough to wait with Ian but not to make any further enquiry or to visit her.
Like he would
, she thought silently, thinking back to what he had said, what he obviously thought.

Christie remained seated, knowing Blake would simply walk past, was unlikely to notice her, not wanting to draw attention to herself by getting up and deliberately crossing his path. She turned to look out to sea, finding it too painful to watch Blake, even from a distance. The seagulls and large mollymawks dipped and flew on the buffeting breeze; she watched them settle on the choppy water, their feathers ruffled as they preened themselves. As always, her pregnancy intruded on her thoughts as she again weighed rental possibilities, tried to think through practicalities.

“I just thought I’d see how you were.” It was Blake, standing to the side of the picnic table. Christie turned, smiled politely, covering her shock at his approach.
 

“I’m fine, Blake. Thank you for your help the other night.” He muttered an acknowledgement, asked about the incident in the pub. Christie frowned. “It was just some drunken guy, no big deal. Anyway, Ian and Mark came over.”
 

Blake flinched as he read Christie’s words as a criticism of his own lack of similar assistance, still upset with himself for not realising what was happening until Mark had caught his eye, even as he told himself he could not have heard what was being said from across the room. He thought of the comments Mark had made while they were both waiting for the nurse to examine Christie, making Blake aware of the several questions Christie had asked Mark about hunting at Mason Bay, her determination to return the sleeping bag. “I told her I wasn’t going to ask,” Mark had finished with a perceptive look at Blake. Blake had made some flippant comment, too worried and confused to really take on board what Mark had been trying to tell him.

Oblivious to Blake’s interpretation of her words, Christie fell silent, noticing his tenseness. “I thought that guy was why you fainted,” he continued, trying to articulate his concern.
 

Christie looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “He was drunk and made a few stupid comments, that’s all. Ian and Mark happened to be walking past to leave, and they heard what he said and sorted it out.” She shrugged. “I fainted because of my pregnancy. Which you helpfully mentioned to Valerie.”

“I had to, Christie,” Blake said matter-of-factly. “Surely you can see that. For all I knew, it could have been a problem with the baby.” Another thought struck him; in his hurt and confusion he voiced it without thinking. “And I’ve got nothing to gain by spreading the news; most of the island will think I’m the father anyway,” he said, thinking of Mark’s silent tact, Lisa’s refusal to leave him waiting at Ian’s place by himself.

“I’m almost three months pregnant,” she said. She saw emotion flare in his eyes; he looked away briefly.
 

“I don’t need to know details,” he said neutrally. Christie looked at Blake’s face; his eyes were distant, guarded.

“So did you think…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to form her thoughts. He waited silently. “Say something!” Christie burst out.
 

Blake shrugged. “What do you want me to say?” he said, still in that neutral tone.

“What you’re thinking!” she responded. “Did you think I wouldn’t tell you, if I knew? Or…” She stopped, her heart sinking at Blake’s apparent disinterest. Again, he waited, not prompting her, simply watching her silently, his dark eyes still guarded, unreadable. Desperately, Christie thought back to the raw emotion Blake had displayed when she had told him about her pregnancy, the anger, the wounded pride. Now by contrast, Blake was cold, distant, almost formal. Christie realised with a shock that the complete absence of emotion in Blake now was infinitely more unnerving. She tried again.

“Finding out was a shock for me,” she started.
 

“So that’s why you didn’t tell me?” he asked.
 

“No!” Christie exclaimed, desperate to make him understand.
 

“I don’t believe you,” he said coldly. “You must have known. If you are almost three months pregnant.”

“Blake,” she said, sudden anger welling up in her, “I have told you that I didn’t know. You were…”
 

She stopped as he turned abruptly, looked away, obviously preparing to leave. “Christie, does all this really matter? We hardly knew each other anyway. If you want to keep secrets, that has to be your call.” His words, his use of the past tense devastated her.
 

“I have been honest with you, Blake,” she emphasised. “But it seems like keeping secrets is the way to go, if this is how you’ll be.”

Christie closed her eyes as Blake walked away without saying anything more.
At least he doesn’t realise he was the first person I told…
Already shell-shocked about the pregnancy Christie found his lack of understanding, his abrupt exit, almost unendurable.
I barely knew him,
she acknowledged to herself.
But I…
Tears seeped from her eyes as her emotions overflowed. Gradually, she brought herself back under control as she walked back to the crib, starting to think about the baby again, continuing to plan.

— # —

Knowing she could not afford to get sidetracked thinking about Blake, about what might have been, Christie tentatively started making enquiries about specific rental properties in Auckland, unable to muster any real enthusiasm for a return to the city that held such painful memories. The vastness of Mason Bay had stirred something in her; now she faced a purely pragmatic decision. Lisa raised the subject of her pregnancy from time to time over the next few weeks, clearly still thinking about Christie’s situation.

Now, Christie relaxed on the sofa of the crib, staring unseeing at the night sky, the bright stars.
I’ve got to figure this out
, she thought, sudden doubt assailing her as the reality of the pregnancy hit her. Mechanically, she reached for her phone as it rang, suddenly focusing on the blackness of the bay below her, belatedly noticing the stars glittering in the sky.

Christie forced animation into her voice as she realised it was Lisa, politely agreed as Lisa insisted on calling in to see her, wondering what could be so urgent. Ten minutes later Lisa was sitting opposite Christie on the sofa, asking how she was, clearly bursting with news. Christie waited expectantly.

“Have you found somewhere to stay yet?” Lisa asked. Christie shook her head, explaining she was still weighing up what to do. “I have a possibility,” Lisa interrupted. “Something to think about anyway. It might not be exactly what you want, but hear me out.” Christie nodded, willing to consider anything at this point. “House sitting in Queenstown,” Lisa announced.
 

Christie gave her a sceptical look. “The rents in Queenstown must be—” she said, stopping as Lisa interrupted firmly.
 

“I asked you to hear me out! It’s not renting, it’s house sitting. And it’s actually an apartment. My friend’s husband has a job transfer to Dubai.” Lisa paused, watching Christie. “And it’s for a year. They want to hold on to the apartment at this stage but don’t want to rent it out to a total stranger…” Lisa continued to give Christie details; explaining the owners might come back to stay for a week or so occasionally, that it had two bedrooms and a study as well as central heating, would be fully furnished. “And you’d only have to pay power, get a landline if you wanted to…They’re leaving in a few months, so the timing would work,” Lisa added. “I’m going back to Arrowtown for the winter to get work on the ski-fields; we could keep in touch. After a year, if you didn’t like it, you could move away, and if you did— ”

“I could look for something else in the area,” Christie said, feeling a kernel of hope inside her for the first time since her pregnancy was confirmed. “Once I’m back on my feet financially.”
 

“Yes,” Lisa agreed, smiling at Christie. “And this would save on outgoings in the meantime. You said rent was your biggest worry, financially, I mean.”

Christie could hardly believe it, was amazed at the opportunity. Silently, she calculated how much she would save on rent, realised she could still work remotely from Queenstown. Nervously, she registered the location, realised it was in the same area as the winery where Blake worked. She could remember every word Blake had told her about the winery; guiltily, she wondered how far it was from Queenstown.
Like it matters
, she thought, concealing her feelings as she asked Lisa about her own work on the ski—fields, the friends that owned the apartment. “They’re leaving to visit Dubai tomorrow,” Lisa explained. “But have a think about it, Christie. They’re not expecting an instant answer. Why don’t you—”

“Lisa, please,” Christie interrupted. “It’s the only…” She paused, still taking the incredible offer. “Thank you. I’d be very, very keen.”
 

BOOK: A Southern Star
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