Love or Money (7 page)

For her morning coffee breaks, she'd taken to driving, rather than walking, to Sarah's Super Sandwiches, the only café in town serving decent coffee. That way, she didn't have to walk past Hamish's office. As she drove, she allowed herself sideways looks through the office window, but Hamish hadn't appeared. A trip to Sydney, to her mother, and her literary agent, was overdue. On Wednesday evening, she phoned.

‘It's wonderful to hear from you, darling,' her mother almost sang. ‘We've been missing you sooo much.'

‘We?'

‘Well, me, and Mr Whiskers.' Trust her mother to drag her ancient cat into the act.

‘Would it be okay to arrive tomorrow?' Erin offered, knowing the answer. ‘Round lunchtime? We could eat out somewhere.'

‘Any time, darling. And lunch — I'd love it. I…haven't been getting out much lately.'

Erin found herself packing for the Sydney trip with mixed feelings. In her time at the cottage, she'd been seduced into
The Adventures of Katy and Katytoo
. Funny how living close to nature made it easy to create a fantasy animal. She didn't like to admit it, but maybe she couldn't have written that story anywhere else but Luna Bay.

Erin arrived at her mother's place around noon. The sick woman hugged her as soon as she opened the door. The hug felt sincere, perhaps even needy. As Erin followed her down the hall of the modest suburban cottage, she was surprised to see her mother carrying a walking stick. As they moved to the lounge, the stick drew attention to itself when it slipped off the sofa and clunked onto the wooden floor.

‘Lovely to see you again, darling. It's been far too long.' Helen Spenser beamed up at her daughter as she flopped back onto the sofa, apparently out of breath. ‘I've missed you so, Erin. Could you make us some tea? Then we can sit and talk.' The moment she looked into her mother's face, Erin recognised despair. Was it something that showed in the older woman's hesitant voice, or the way she lay on the sofa, pale, breathless? Her mother grinned and bent to salvage the stick.

‘I didn't know you had a stick,' Erin said, wanting to get to the bottom of things.

‘It's the latest bother I have to put up with. Doctor Evans. He said to take the stick with me whenever I walk anywhere. In case I have a turn. It could make me dizzy for a moment and I might fall, he said.

‘But Mum. Turns? You're too young for that sort of thing. You're barely fifty. I thought sticks were for geriatrics.'

‘So did I, darling. But…my heart. It's not getting any better.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘My latest tests. I could tell that Doctor Evans was trying to be nice about it. He gave me another lot of pills. Fed me the usual, “None of us are getting any younger, Helen.” And so on. He asked if you could touch base with him on your next visit.'

‘Oh. I'll call him before I leave.' Erin fought to contain her own heart's pounding. Her mother had been precious to her all her life. They'd been a twosome, supporting and caring for each other as life without husband and father closed in on them. Helen Spenser had held down her secretary's job through it all. Erin had handled the life of latchkey kid without complaint. Any grumbling would have merely added to her mother's pain.

‘Glad you told me the truth, Mum,' Erin said. ‘But let me help with a few things around the house while I'm here. Heavy lifting. Laundry.'

‘Thanks, darling. I knew you'd want to help. There's a basket of washing in the laundry. Perhaps you could run it through the machine. But tell me about Luna Bay first.'

‘Not a lot to tell. I'm going to sell it as soon as I can. Give it a quick lick and promise, then put it on the market.'

‘A pity. You loved your trips to Luna Bay as a child. You'll have a soft spot for the old place, I know.'

‘I do.'

‘Couldn't you keep it? Spend lovely relaxing weekends there sometimes?'

‘I'd love to, but I have to get real. My job, my life…they're in Sydney.' There was no need to mention her mother's new neediness. ‘But I'll spruce up the place before I sell,' Erin continued brightly. ‘That'll mean a few more weeks at Luna Bay.'

‘Too bad. It must be awful for you, having to live in the old place before it's fixed. It'll be falling down around your ears. And that God-forsaken little village — not a soul for you to talk to. An absolute Hicksville.'

‘Er…yes.'

An hour later, Erin called Doctor Evans, making sure she closed the door on the lounge where her mother sat with a book.

‘Glad you called, Erin,' the friendly cardiologist answered. She'd accompanied her mother on visits for years, come to trust the easygoing but always professional medico.

‘I'll come straight to the point,' he said. ‘Your mother's heart. It's running like a car that's done a million kilometres too many. She needs a new one.'

‘You mean a transplant?' Erin shuddered. She knew a transplant was a risky operation. Not everyone survived it. What if her mother never woke up after her surgery? The shock that Helen Spenser might have only months to live paralysed Erin. Her mind lurched. She fought sobs. She faced losing the person she loved most in the world. For the moment, she must get hold of her reeling emotions, concentrate on the doctor's message.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Sorry, but at the end of the day, that's the only thing that can help her.'

‘But — but — you mean she might die if she doesn't have a transplant?'

‘I'm afraid so.'

‘How long can she…I mean how much time have we got?'

‘Her heart could fail tomorrow, or it could clunk on for another year. And, of course, her quality of life could deteriorate. As it has already.'

‘You mean the walking stick.'

‘Yes. There'll be other things. I'm afraid it's only a matter of time.'

‘But — what other things?'

‘Mobility. She'll need long spells of bed rest. Possibly oxygen.'

‘But the transplant. How do we…what do I…'

‘She can wait, like a lot of other public patients have to.'

‘How — how long?'

‘To be honest, it usually takes years. It's in the lap of the gods. Many patients in the queue die before a donor heart becomes available.'

‘Doctor Evans.' Erin needed the facts, however stark they might be. ‘What on earth can we do to speed things up?'

‘Anything like that takes money,' he said. ‘Big money.'

‘Well, for starters,' Erin said, fighting to control the wavering in her voice, ‘if she were a private patient, would that help?'

‘Yes, it would.' The pause lengthened. ‘And of course there's the option of going overseas. Some of the world's top transplant hospitals are outside Australia. In places like the US, the UK.' Erin drew a long, slow breath. Her own heart sounded like an out-of-control jackhammer. She fought to pitch a businesslike sound into her voice.

‘The big question, doctor. What would it cost?'

‘A lot, I'm afraid. And I happen to know Helen doesn't have comprehensive medical insurance. One of those things single mums don't seem to get round to.' He stopped, hesitant. ‘Let's say well into six figures for starters…I can't be more accurate than that without a bit of checking.'

Erin's mind cleared. Suddenly she saw the big picture. ‘I can afford that. I just inherited a property. From my grandmother. I intended to sell it. I'll just have to pull the pin a bit sooner than I planned.'

‘I think you're very wise, Erin. I know you love your mother. Should I take the next step, then? Start firming up some definite arrangements?'

‘Yes, please. Immediately.'

‘I will. But you'll appreciate, even with all the money in the world, we'll still have to wait for a suitable donor.'

‘I understand. But at least we can get to first base. I'll pay a visit to my bank today.'

‘Okay Erin.' His voice clicked into the kindly, practical bedside manner she'd heard so many times before. She put down the phone and headed back to her mother.

‘Let's do lunch right now, Mum. I have a few calls to make this afternoon.'

‘Fine, darling. I'm starving.' Helen eased herself out of her armchair, clutched her walking stick. ‘Will you be back in time for dinner?'

‘Of course,' Erin bubbled. ‘I wouldn't miss one of my Mum's home-cooked dinners for the world.' She caught her mother hiding a sneaky smile.

‘Good,' Helen said. ‘There's a little surprise — before dinner.'

The bank manager was positive.

‘You'll sell a hot property like that very soon, Erin. They aren't making any more land with ocean frontage.'

‘But what if I…need the money before I sell?' Erin didn't need to replay the sad story of her mother's condition.

‘We can give you a loan — bridging finance. No problem.' Erin thanked him. In the morning, she must head back to Luna Bay and kick-start the renovations on the old cottage.

On the way to her mother's place, she stopped at her literary agent's office.

‘I liked that magic kangaroo story, Erin,' Stacey Hill said. Erin allowed herself a moment of happiness. Stacey was a woman of few words. ‘The other day I had a query from a US-based producer of animated films for kids. They're looking for product ideas.'

‘You mean a company like Disney?'

‘Well…let's just say they could be the next Disney. Fantastory Inc., they're called.'

‘But I've never done anything like that,' Erin said. ‘I wouldn't know where to start with animation.'

‘You probably wouldn't have to. They told me they're just looking for good stories that kids will like. With a bit of visual potential, obviously. I didn't send your stuff — wanted to talk to you first.'

‘Well, fine. Send it. You have my full permission.'

‘Sorry, Erin. It isn't finished yet. It needs a bit of polishing. A lot of polishing.'

‘You always say that.'

‘Yes, I do. And even when a story's polished to within an inch of its life, it's ten thousand to one against an animated movie company ever wanting to take it on board.'

‘Okay. I'll get out my polish the second I get back. Start rubbing.'

‘Erin. You know I always say this to you, but it bears repeating.' Stacey's face took on a school-marmish look. ‘Please don't get your hopes up. It's just a throwaway enquiry.'

‘You do always say that,' Erin countered. ‘But every once in a while, I do deliver. As you know. You said Possum Publishing loves me.'

‘Yes, Erin. They do. And at the end of the day, they're just a small local publisher. Okay?'

A little before five, Erin raced back to her mother's place with her head buzzing. She needed to spend a few days and nights somewhere quiet, where the sound of the waves would soothe her to sleep. She walked down the hall just as Helen Spenser stepped out of her room, dressed in the red cocktail outfit she'd always worn for big nights out. The older woman blushed as if she'd been caught naked.

‘You needn't have dressed like that for a simple dinner, Mum. What's —'

‘I told you there was a surprise, darling. We're going out.'

‘But that'll cost buckets. Let me —'

‘Alright, darling. I'll tell all. We're being taken. Your lovely Todd is taking us out. To the famous Alfredo's. He's calling for us at five.'

‘Todd?' Hand to forehead, Erin sagged onto the sofa. ‘Mother.' Erin breathed a long sigh. ‘You know very well Todd and I broke up. Weeks ago.' She'd throttle back her rage. Angry words wouldn't be good for a woman with a fragile heart.

‘I know, darling.' Her mother flopped onto the sofa beside her. ‘But he wants you back.' Her face took on a pleading look. ‘I've always liked Todd. I can understand he might have a few little…ways about him. Every man on the planet does. But deep down, where things really matter, he's a thoroughly decent human being.' She leaned forward, about to pass on a confidence. ‘And he really loves you, Erin. I'm sure about that now. We've had lots of chats since you broke up. Long chats. And I know — he really wants to put his money where his mouth is.'

‘What on earth do you mean, Mother?'

‘He wants to…start a family. Marry. Set up a fabulous home for you. A little nest. Where you can bring up babies, enjoy the absolute luxury of being a stay-at-home mum.'

Erin held her poker face. She wouldn't tell her mother she'd rejected Todd's pleas to have his babies, that it had been the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. ‘And…I want grandchildren. I…don't know how much longer I've got.' Was that a tear she brushed away with a quick flick of the wrist? ‘But I'll tell you, darling. It's something I've pined over for years. I want to die knowing I've held my grandchild — here. She clutched her arms to her heart.

‘Mother.' Erin had to be gentle but sensible. ‘I went out with Todd for six weary years. I know him pretty well. Then I broke up with him. It wasn't an overnight thing. I thought about it for months. It's over, Mother. O. V. E. R.'

Actually, she'd anguished over her relationship with Todd for the entire six years. For all his money, his boy's toys, his theatricals, she could never say she'd really loved him — never felt the certainty, the
I-just-know-it's-him
passion that she knew she would feel the second the real Mr Right appeared. At first, Todd had turned her head with his flashy ways, his fancy cars, his dinners out, and the mountains of flowers that appeared on special occasions. Then, she'd got tired of all that. Nothing he gave her could substitute for the real thing.

‘Darling. I understand.' Helen had always been close to her daughter, had always put herself out whenever Erin really needed something — clothes, school stuff, cash. She was grateful for those sacrifices. For her mother's sake, she would cope with dinner at some boringly formal restaurant. Todd would snap into his bended knee performances — all the hard-sell lines she'd heard a million times before. A few hours' boredom wasn't such a high price to pay for a night that her mother would love.