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Angie watched the wheels in her mother’s intuitive head start going round, but she was darned if she was going to explain how Lance had come to be on the spot in the early hours of this morning.
‘Well, well,’ was all her mother said, but it spoke volumes to anyone who knew her. She stared at Lance, then at a suddenly blushing Angie, then back at Lance again. ‘That was extraordinarily kind of you, Lance. Now, come over here, you handsome hunk, and give your second-best girlfriend a hug.’
Lance laughed, then did just that. ‘Hello, Mrs Brown,’ he greeted her warmly. ‘Glad to see you haven’t changed.’
‘Can’t say the same for you, my lad. You look mighty peaky. What you need is a good night’s sleep and some fresh country air. Why don’t you stay up here at the farm with Dad for a while?’
‘I’d love to, Mrs Brown, but I have urgent business back in Melbourne to attend to tomorrow, which really can’t wait. I’ll have to drive back to Sydney first thing tomorrow morning, then take a plane.’
Angie contemplated telling her parents about the death of Lance’s father, then decided it was hardly the time or the place.
‘Pity,’ Nora said. ‘You young people don’t know how short life is. Don’t waste the one you have doing things that don’t make you happy. And don’t keep putting off doing the things you know you should have done years ago.’
Angie might have imagined it, but she thought her mother was directing a definite message at Lance with those last words.
‘Scares like the one I’ve just had rather make one reassess life,’ she went on. ‘Dad and I have decided to go on that holiday we’ve been putting off for years—haven’t we, Dad?’
‘We certainly have, Mother. Hang the expense. And the overdraft.’
A hatchet-faced nurse with a bosom like the bridge on a battleship bustled in at that moment and ordered all visitors out, putting paid to any more conversation about holidays or wasted lives.
‘Doctor says Mrs Brown is to rest,’ Sister Sour-puss stated firmly when Angie’s dad objected. ‘And that includes you, Mr Brown. You need some rest as well.’
‘The chooks and dogs need feeding anyway,’ Nora reminded him. ‘I’ll see you tonight, perhaps?’ she said, looking at Sour-puss for permission.
That gesture alone showed just how much this attack had dented Nora’s confidence. She normally never looked for permission to do anything from anyone. Still, old Sour-puss would have a deflating effect on just about anyone, Angie thought.
‘I suppose you can have visitors tonight,’ came the grudging concession. ‘But only for an hour or so.’
Angie hated saying goodbye after so little time. Neither did she like leaving her mother in the hands of such a tyrant, but she could see the sense in her mother resting. Her father looked tired too. Wrecked, in fact. No doubt he hadn’t eaten properly since her mother’s attack and might need looking after himself.
She decided then and there not to go back to Sydney with Lance in the morning. She would stay and look after her father for a while. The school wouldn’t fall apart at this time of the year if she had a week off—all the Year Twelve students had already left, and in two weeks the summer break would begin.
She would probably have to return the following week to tidy things up. And, given the situation with Lance, she might even have to hand in her resignation. She assumed that becoming his mistress would necessitate a move to Melbourne. Much as she didn’t want to move to Melbourne to live, she’d passed the point where such considerations mattered. She would go wherever Lance was, to be with him as much as possible. End of story.
‘Why don’t you take Dad home, Bud?’ she suggested to her brother as they all walked along the hospital corridor. ‘Lance and I’ll buy some takeaway food and follow you as quickly as we can.’
‘Fair enough,’ came his curt reply. ‘Get plenty of it, though. I’m damned hungry.’ He stalked off, his body language telling its own story. Clearly they were not yet forgiven for the horrendous transgression of becoming lovers.
‘I’ll talk to him,’ Lance said.
