‘Later, when the chef had gone, Eva told me the restaurant had a bad safety record and she wasn’t going back. I put her in touch with Henri, who owns this place.’
‘You did me a huge favour.’ Eva placed two coffees before them. ‘Molly?’
‘Mushrooms on toast, and lots of crispy bacon.’
‘Good choice.’
It was. The creamy sauce the mushrooms came in was divine, and the bacon done to perfection. ‘I might have to reserve my own table after this.’ Molly grinned as she pushed her plate aside and dabbed her lips with a paper napkin. Coogee wasn’t so far from Bondi Junction that she couldn’t make the trip occasionally to eat scrumptious food, check out those shops and dabble her toes in the sea.
‘Help yourself to mine.’ Nathan smiled, those questions back in his eyes now that breakfast was over.
Even knowing how unlikely it was, she’d been hoping he’d let it go. Yet she also thought that by telling him about Paul she’d be testing the water to see how he reacted. It’d be a barometer for the future and how she went about revealing her past to any man she might get serious about. Draining her water, she set the glass down. ‘Feel like walking along the beach?’ She could not sit here revealing everything, not with him directly opposite and she firmly in his line of vision.
‘You read my mind.’
‘Oh, no, I didn’t.’ She could no more read what he was thinking than ride a wave like two surfers were doing out there.
Only three other individuals were on the beach, two in a hurry to get their walk done, probably to head back indoors where it was warmer. Molly zipped her jacket up to her chin.
Beside her, Nathan slipped his hands into his pockets and matched her pace. They were halfway along the beach before she said, ‘My divorce came through last Monday. I got the paperwork on Thursday.’
‘Was that why you had a toast to yourself at Vicki’s breakfast?’
‘You noticed?’ Was there anything she could keep from this man? Was that good? Or bad? She’d go for good, with a wary eye.
‘I’ve started observing lots of things about you.’ Then Nathan stopped. ‘If that sounds creepy, I apologise. It’s not meant to. It’s only that my opinion of you has changed since yesterday morning.’
She glanced across, and couldn’t resist smiling. ‘We didn’t exactly get off to a great start, did we?’ Could be that deep down she’d sensed how he could affect her if she let him near, and so subconsciously she’d been protecting herself by pushing him away. ‘Of course we might go back to being grumpy with each other next time we’re at work.’ Fingers crossed that didn’t happen. She liked the man, more than liked, but that emotion was for another day further down the track—if they spent more time together outside the hospital. Nathan had mentioned a car trip. Should she go? It meant making herself vulnerable, if only because he was so considerate towards her, something that still had her defence mechanisms coming to the fore.
‘How long were you married?’ Nathan brought her back to reality with a bump.
‘Two years.’ Her voice had taken on an emotionless tone, designed not to give anything away she didn’t choose to. ‘At first it was wonderful.’ Deep breath, stare at the sand ahead. ‘And then it wasn’t.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
She was sorry she had reason to say it. ‘He hit me. Often, towards the end. There was no pleasing him when he was in a mood.’
‘I figured that out when you talked about Kath’s problem. You understand what she’s dealing with.’ Nathan came closer, his arm touching hers, his hand now between them—relaxed and there for her. Or so she hoped.
‘Every last emotion,’ she admitted.
‘I hoped I was wrong.’ Then he asked, ‘Can I hold you?’
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Nathan was asking if it was all right to hold her. Pausing in her mad dash along the beach, she faced him square on. ‘Yes, please.’
As his arms wrapped around her she became aware of the tension gripping his torso. It didn’t frighten her. Again unusual. It only went to show how much she instinctively trusted this man. ‘Nathan?’
His forehead rested against hers. ‘I am spitting mad. No man has the right to hurt a woman physically. It’s appalling.’
‘And degrading, and terrifying, and soul destroying,’ she whispered.
‘Yet you were brave and left him.’
That sounded so simple. Pack a bag and walk out the front door, never to return. Don’t look over her shoulder—except she’d been doing that ever since, though not any more. Other than on bad days when she was feeling down.
Nathan continued. ‘You’re still looking out in case he turns up. At one stage I saw you checking every male that came into the café yesterday.’
She pulled back in his arms to watch the expressions crossing his face. He was angry. For her. The tension eased. No one had done that for her since this appalling situation had begun. Not even the people who should’ve been there for her. ‘He can’t. He’s locked up for years to come.’
‘At least that’s good.’
She could get to like this man a lot. Like? Or love? Why not? She was allowed to love again, she just had to get it right next time. ‘He escaped once and came after me in Adelaide where I’d moved to get away from the people who thought I’d made it all up. They changed their attitude after the trial, but for me it was too late.’ Except for her mum, and that was still a work in progress. ‘I tried staying on in Adelaide but there were too many shadows at the corners so I moved here.’
‘I’m surprised you can get through a day without checking behind every door in the department and studying each male patient who comes in.’ So far Nathan had accepted everything she’d told him without criticism. He’d never understand just how much that meant.
‘I used to when I began working at the medical centre in Bondi Junction, but it’s exhausting so one day I made up my mind to stop. Not that it happened instantly, but I’m heaps better than I used to be.’
‘That says you’re comfortable here. Am I right?’
‘I’m getting there, and, yes, I want to make a life for myself in Sydney. I will never return to Perth.’ Her mother had finally accepted that, right about when she’d acknowledged she’d let her daughter down by not believing her about Paul in the beginning.
Nathan leaned in and his lips touched her forehead, brushed over her skin, before he straightened. ‘Good answer. You’re one tough lady, Molly O’Keefe.’
; The wind gusted sharply, flicking sand at them, and Molly shuddered. From the cold or the memories she wasn’t sure. Both, most likely. ‘I’m starting to believe that.’
‘So you should. I’ll say this once, and then I’ll keep quiet unless you ever want to talk about it again.’ Nathan’s hand entwined with hers, and she had no compulsion to pull away. ‘You are so brave.’ Then he kissed both her cheeks and straightened. ‘Let’s go find somewhere warmer.’
Molly hadn’t told him everything. Nothing about the real possibility she’d never get pregnant again. That was just too close, too painful, to reveal. A huge negative when she was trying to be positive. When they reached his car, she asked, ‘Where shall we go now?’ She wasn’t ready for this to end. She hadn’t felt so at ease in years, and it was addictive. She wanted more time with Nathan. Plain and simple. Complicated and interesting.
Nathan looked at her over the roof of his car, a look of disbelief darkening his features as he said, ‘I want to show you something.’
Was he sure about that? From the way he was looking at her she thought he was more inclined to take her to the bus station and buy her a ticket out of town. ‘What?’
* * *
‘Wait and see.’
Quick, think of somewhere to take her to. Avoid going home. Because once you show her the self-contained flat you’re sunk. There’ll be no backing out.
Nathan sucked in chilly air and drove through town, berating himself silently for giving in to the horror with which Molly’s story had filled him. Rosie would understand how he had to make sure she was always safe, to protect her from those shadows that haunted her and probably would for a long time to come despite her courageous words. Only then would that beautiful, heart-wrenching smile return more and more readily. A smile that rocked him off his steady stride and woke up parts of him that had been asleep for way too long. Not only his libido, but emotions of longing, caring and wanting to nurture.
Because of that smile he felt as though he’d stepped off the edge of a cliff and had no idea how far below he’d land, or in what condition. Neither did he care.