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He followed her the length of the block and turned back towards the main street as she was entering the clinic. By the time he caught up with her, she was already shedding her coat in the staff room and talking with Karen about the afternoon schedule. There wasn’t any point in hanging around. She’d be busy until the end of her shift and he had an appointment he had to keep.
‘This is going to cost you a packet, Morgan. I hope they’ve been paying you well.’
Morgan remembered Mike Maloney from school. He’d done his apprenticeship in Bialga but came home to set up his electrical contracting business. They’d never been friends, but there was an old camaraderie of remembered school days.
Morgan shrugged. ‘Nothing to spend it on where I’ve been so I’ve accumulated enough to fix up this place.’ And purchase the medical practice outright without a loan. They’d been empty years on the personal front, but productive for his career and investments.
He followed the electrician to the back door and around the house, the front steps being too dangerous for casual use. The carpenter would be coming tomorrow to assess the major jobs Morgan didn’t feel confident doing himself. ‘I need it made safe and it’s an investment.’
Mike glanced around at the property. ‘The house is great. It should do up nicely. It’s solid enough and once you upgrade the plumbing and electricals, it’ll be liveable. Most of the damage is peripheral because of the neglect. A coat of paint will make all the difference.’
Morgan let the words flow over him, watching the two children pedalling up his parents’ driveway. He couldn’t crash their homework time again. There was still the issue of his parents’ knowledge about Gabby he needed to deal with.
He’d been too shell-shocked at the revelations to speak to them last night. Still angry at what he’d been denied to bring up the subject over the meal. He’d made himself scarce when Becca came to pick them up but he’d watched from his parents’ front bedroom as they did the short trip to the battered old house across the dirt road.
He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined he’d have a child, a daughter. Not once the physical and mental aftermath of the night nearly thirteen years ago had manifested itself. His life had changed in ways he couldn’t have imagined, though it had taken months before he’d been forced to acknowledge he had a problem and then years to come to grips with managing his condition. He’d barely stabilised when his more recent illness had started the whole thing over again. The specialist had been hopeful, but Morgan was not.
Mike paused before climbing into his truck, his gaze following Morgan’s to the children entering his parents’ place. ‘It would make a great family home.’
It was a relief when he didn’t wait for an answer, rumbling down the bumpy driveway with a wave of the hand as he turned onto the road.
Morgan turned to look at the house. A family home.
Mike was right. It had a multitude of bedrooms and larger rooms for entertaining or family recreation. All of it surrounded by wide verandahs with carved finials and balustrades. Underneath had been enclosed with brick against the cold winters and with the old-fashioned central heating, it was easy to keep warm. It had been a magnificent homestead in its day, the original owner’s wealthy beyond imagination and ruling the upper echelons of the town’s citizenry long before the Smith and Cavanaugh families arrived at Maiden’s Landing. They’d been the original squattocracy, owning most of the district until it had been cut up by succeeding generations and the town established.
He made his way carefully up the front steps, avoiding the ones too damaged to bear his weight. The view was worth every cent he’d paid, overlooking the river and beyond it to the west he could see the town itself. The post office tower helped him pinpoint the centre of town. He could see Becca’s house down in the hollow, beside the river, surrounded by pine trees and natives. They’d been small, newly planted the last time he’d been here, the house itself an eyesore surrounded by rusty cars and farm machinery. These days the yard was bare apart from the trees and a small vegetable garden to one side. Becca’s doing, or Dan’s?
His hand was on the front door when a shout caught his attention and he twisted his head to see Gabby running across the paddock, still in her winter school uniform of green polo shirt and matching tracksuit pants.
‘Morgan?’
The boy was following at a slower pace, a green environmental shopping bag in one hand.
Gabby had one foot on the bottom step when he stopped her with a sharp word. His heart tightened at the sudden wiping of the smile from her face.
‘It’s okay to be here, but the steps aren’t safe. You need to come around to the back porch.’
The sun-bright smile beamed up at him. ‘We’ll meet you there.’
He went through the house to let them in the back door and he could hear them arguing. Edward wasn’t happy. ‘We shouldn’t be here. Mum won’t like it.’
‘We have permission from Grace and Grandpa Ned. We’re doing a job for them.’
Morgan opened the door and Gabby tumbled into the small room that had served as a dumping ground for shoes and coats back when he came here as a child.
‘What brings you here? Have you done your homework?’
‘There wasn’t much.’ Gabby drew her reluctant brother inside. ‘Grace sent over some baking for you. Your favourites.’
Edward held up the bag and Morgan took it. ‘Thanks. Did you want to come in?’
Gabby danced passed him into the kitchen. ‘We were hoping you’d invite us for afternoon tea.’
She looked around curiously and he revisited the dingy room through her youthful eyes.
‘I haven’t started the renovations yet.’
Making herself comfortable at the old Laminex table, Gabby nodded. ‘It’s like ours. Mum wants to fix it up but she can’t afford it. You don’t have to worry about impressing us you know.’
