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Authors: Rochelle Carlton

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BOOK: The Quilt
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Ch
apter 31


A Time to Decide”

 

A light breeze disturbed the strings of crystals that hung from every window frame.  They chimed and cast rainbows of fragmented light across the villa’s walls and floors.   

Joanne chewed reflectively on the end of her pen. 
A cup of coffee, left to go cold, and an open book lay in front of her.  From behind the closed door she could hear the sound of another drawer closing, soft footsteps followed by the familiar dry cough.  She studied the beams of morning sun that streamed through the white lace curtains casting murky shadows over her unread book.

Three
days had passed since the phone call and Joanne was acutely aware she only had a further two days in which to make her decision.  To date, she had not even had a discussion with the people that would be most affected. A year ago it would have been easy, but that was before the cancer had made talk about her own future seem selfish. 

L
ogan Neil had spoken cautiously, apologising for contacting Joanne, and asking if it was convenient for her to talk.  He explained he had obtained her number from his friend, Patrick O’Donnell, who he understood had previously employed Joanne.  There was a moment of awkwardness before he continued.

“Patrick speaks very highly of you.  He recommended you for this position and advised me to call
to see if you were able to consider joining us.  He also told me you resigned suddenly due to unexpected personal circumstances.” 

Logan had hesitated
, giving Joanne the opportunity to elaborate.  After a brief silence he had explained that he represented a small, but well established, partnership and they were currently in the process of expanding.   They had secured commercial premises within a two hour drive of the central business district and were looking for a suitable ambitious, young solicitor to represent their practice.  Initially, the contract would be part time, he specified two days per week, within the next year he envisaged it would develop into a full time position.

Was that the reason
she felt so reluctant to discuss this opportunity?  By the time her commitment to Logan Neil made it necessary for her to leave the villa, it would no longer affect Sandy.  She swallowed hard, biting back the sob that clawed at her throat.  Certainly, it was feasible to immediately accept a two day appointment.   Providing Joanne travelled early and returned after work the following evening it would only necessitate leaving Sandy in Raewyn’s care for one night each week.

Logan had assured her they would negotiate leave to enable Joanne to fulfil her existing commitment
s to Simon.  In the short term the café would not be negatively affected by her taking two days off during the working week and dedicating her weekends to the business.  In fact, Simon would probably see it as an advantage because she would be available to work Saturday and Sundays, which was his busiest time. 

 

The sound of another drawer closing interrupted her thoughts.  Joanne glanced at her watch.  Perhaps there would be an opportunity to talk to Sandy today.  Despite rehearsing the words, and despite planning a sensitive introduction to the topic of the job offer, Joanne felt apprehension tighten her stomach.  Sandy’s reactions were no longer predictable or, at times, even rational and if she became upset there would be no option but to decline the position, no matter how attractive the opportunity was to her personally. 

The door opened and a small
mass of tangled fur darted out. Sandy followed behind wearing blue jeans and a bright yellow tee shirt.  A green woollen beanie covered her head clashing with a hastily applied slash of scarlet lipstick and bright blue eye shadow.  Her eyes looked overly large and, although her face was hollowed and gaunt, the medication made her general appearance look puffy and bloated.

Critter settled at her feet.

“You are not coming today
,” Sandy said firmly avoiding eye contact with Joanne by leaning down and affectionately patting the small dog on the head.  She turned away and firmly closed the door to her room before walking unsteadily into the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going out on the boat.”

For a moment
Joanne thought she had misunderstood. 

“But
I am working today.”

“I don’t remember asking you to come with me
,” Sandy’s tone was icy.

“The hell you
are going out alone.  That would be ridiculous.”

“Life is short and mine is getting shorter by the bloody
minute.   The sun is shining and if you think I am going to waste a day like this you are wrong.”

Sandy
spoke in a lowered voice, her eyes locked on to Joanne defiantly. She paused to allow the words to gain full significance before continuing in a slightly less antagonistic manner.

“I am going.  P
lease don’t be offended, but I would really like to take some time out by myself.”

Joanne studied
the determined set on the face in front of her.


I am not even going to try to reason with you.  I will check the weather forecast and organize someone to take over for me at work today.”

Sandy stamped her foot like a petulant child and walked towards the front door.

“If you are adamant that I am not going out alone, at least be considerate enough not to keep me waiting.”

Joanne fought to
suppress a smile.

“Sandy
, I have the car keys.”

Sandy spun around angrily
in the doorway.  Her hand travelled to her jean pocket and she cursed.

“I took the car to buy groceries this morning
.”

The front door slammed closed at the same time as Simon picked up the telephone.

“Hi Simon, something has come up I won’t be in until this afternoon.”

“Is Sandy having a bad day?”
he asked.

“No
, on the contrary she seems quite well.  She has decided to go out on the boat.  She even told me she would prefer to go alone,” Joanne laughed. “I think I would be chasing after her now if she had managed to get her hands on the car keys.”

There was a slight pause and Joanne imagined an understanding smile creasing Simon’s face
as his own memories flickered into life.


Let her enjoy the day.”


I should be back early this afternoon.  I have just checked met service and a front is arriving this evening, so we will only be able to get out for a few hours. Are you going to be in later today?” Joanne hands nervously picked at the corner of a tea towel. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

“That sounds ominous
, should I be concerned?”  Simon was intrigued but there was a hint of worry in his voice.


No, you have no reason to be concerned.  In fact, going out in the boat is the ideal opportunity for me to discuss things with Sandy, and whether I even need to talk to you is dependent on how she reacts.  I’ll come into the café as soon as we get back.”

“Y
ou know I hate a mystery.”

“And you know if I keep Sandy waiti
ng much longer she will make sure I hate my entire day.”

Simon
reluctantly hung up and Joanne gathered a few items and filled Critters bowls before joining Sandy outside.

“We
can’t stay out for long.  The weather is forecast to get bad later today.”

“That’s
fine; I will get tired well before we need to come back in.” 

The frustration had
drained from Sandy while she waited leaning against the soothing, warm steel of the car.

Sandy turned her face
into the sun.  It warmed her back, and cast dancing lights across the blue waters that played against the side of the small boat.  She met Joanne’s eyes and smiled happily.  Today, life felt normal.  For a few hours she could exist without the time limitations imposed by disease.   The islands surrounded her like jewels separated from busy city life and its harsh concrete structures that reached for the sky just out of view.

“You wanted to discuss something with me?”

Joanne flinched. Sandy’s face had been animated, her voice cascading excitedly as she reminisced about family and school, boyfriends and the chaos she had left in her wake as she danced through life.  The question had broken the spell and her serious eyes were now focused without blinking on Joanne.

“I
will make the decisions while I can.  I am not going into a hospice.”

Joanne paused to remove a fish from Sandy’s hook.  She carefully rebaited and let out the line before replacing the rod in the holder and returning to her seat.

“It has nothing to do with you going into any facility let alone a hospice.  I thought we had discussed that a long time ago.”

Joanne smiled warmly
.  The tension melted from Sandy’s face.


You know how grateful I am don’t you?  I am not sure how I would have managed without your help.”

A slight sparkle had appeared in Sandy’s eyes
.  She made no effort to brush away the moisture as it slowly trailed down her cheeks.

“I don’t always show my gratitude
.”

Joanne laughed
, taking the opportunity to distract Sandy before she became angry or morose.

“You don’t ever show your gratitude
.”

Sandy wrinkl
ed her nose and waited for Joanne to continue.


It is not necessary for friends to acknowledge or show gratitude.”

Joanne looked up pointedly at the sky
.  Soft grey masses were clumping together, gathering like towers of cotton wool. Small white capped waves had formed and gasps of wind ruffled the surface between.

“It really isn’t urgent that I speak to you
.”

Sandy’s
head had fallen to one side and rested against a thin shoulder.  Dark circles were etched under her once vibrant eyes and her mouth had set in a peaceful content line.  She no longer had the appearance of a wounded animal fighting against its own inevitable demise. Was this acceptance? Sandy was battle weary and worn, like the final chapter of a well-loved and often read book. Joanne struggled to find words to describe the new quality radiating from the once wild, rebellious redhead she had grown to love as a sister.

Sandy’s eyes ope
ned and a slight smile formed when she found Joanne was watching her intently.

“Sorry
, I am really tired. Really tired.” She moved against the folds of her life jacket in an effort to find comfort.

“Stop dramatizing
.  I should have thought to bring your medications.  If I had we would have had the option of staying on the island for the night.”

“Now who is dramatizing?  It really isn’t that bad
.”

Sandy swivelled around slightly and narrowed her eyes against the glare to look down the channel
. “There is a launch in the distance, you can tuck behind that to go over the channel.”

Joanne nodded.  The wind had started to gust
, sending a whistling noise around the boat.  Waves played on the wooden hull and clouds continued to gather in the threatening, ink-coloured sky above.

“The weath
er seems to be changing earlier than they predicted.”

“Then you had better start pulling up the anchor.  If you leave it much longer you will miss the oppo
rtunity to follow that launch.” 

Sandy spoke in a level even voice that went some way towards calming the anxious feeling that
had inexplicably gripped Joanne.

“Are you warm enough?” Joanne checked Sandy’s hand before carefully making sure the life jacket was secure and the snap attachments were fastened.
 

“I can get you a blanket if you need it?”

Sandy slowly shook her head.

“It will only take a minute to bring up the anchor.  If you need me you will have to yell to be heard
.”

 

Waves were slapping on the side of the hull.  The wind gathered foam and tossed it like candyfloss on the small whitecaps that crowned each swell of water. How long would Sandy have the strength to enjoy this part of her life?  How long until the conditions were too harsh and the risk of infection too great for her wasted body?

The anch
or chain slowly ground its way up, clattering on the bow of the boat. Joanne raised her eyes to the gathering clouds.  The weather was changing and changing quickly.  It was then that a glossy white curtain obscured her view.  The launch had appeared only a small insignificant speck a few minutes earlier.  Now, as it passed within metres of Lucky Lady, the size and elegant sweep of the hull looked both beautiful and frightening.  There was an airy stillness before the wake hit and Joanne felt her arm crash on to the unforgiving wooden hatch. She cursed, bracing herself for the next surge of water disturbance that she knew would cause the small vessel to violently buck and swing.

BOOK: The Quilt
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