Jilted. Rachael Johns

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      No! She didn’t want a blanket. She brought her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth against the door. I just want to go, she would have yelled, but her tongue had grown thick and immobile. I just want to go back to Sydney, where I’m not some kind of freak show, and live my life the best I can.

      Her legs had lost all their strength. She tried to move so she wasn’t hunched like a sobbing cripple in the doorway, but the gods were laughing at her. Somewhere a flash went off, but before she had time to comprehend what that meant, sirens pierced the air, egging on her horrendous headache.

      “In here,” she heard someone say. Then two women in green uniforms were looking over her. One of them crouched down and lifted Ellie’s hand, rubbing her wrist, presumably to take her pulse. The other ambulance officer began firing questions at the owner and his employee. Still stunned that this was actually happening, Ellie took a moment to react, but when she heard the word hospital, something inside her snapped back into place.

      She pasted what was no doubt a less-than-believable smile on her face and looked apologetically into the face of the woman checking her over. “I’m really sorry,” she said, extracting her hand and straightening her ponytail. “I’m fine. I don’t know what happened, but I’m really fine now. I don’t need to go to hospital.”

      The other, less feminine ambulance officer leaned down and butted in. “It’s policy. We have to take you in and have a doctor check you over.”

      “No.” No way in hell was she going back to that pokey small-town hospital and risking another run-in with Lauren. She could only imagine what would happen if she were admitted into that woman’s care. “I said I’m fine and I am. You can’t force me to go.”

      “She does seem fine,” stated the first officer.

      While the two of them discussed protocol and common sense, and the service station owner added his opinion, Ellie flexed her feet and pushed herself up into a stand. Although still shaky, she had every confidence her legs were back in the game. Monitoring her breathing, she trekked slowly around the shop, grabbing chocolates, a big bottle of Fanta, packets of chips, two types of milk and a loaf of white bread. The pickings were slim at the Shell and the prices exorbitant, but she needed to get out of there quickly, with enough provisions to avoid coming back too soon. Tomorrow she’d worry about a bigger shop, although how she’d make it round the Co-op without having an actual heart attack, she had no idea.

      “You sure you shouldn’t get properly checked out?” asked the shop assistant as she scanned Ellie’s purchases through the till. The young woman looked genuinely concerned. Ellie didn’t recognize her and judging by her attitude, she deduced that the girl couldn’t have been a resident of Hope very long.

      “Thanks for your concern, but I just had a shock.”

      The girl looked at her quizzically, but she wasn’t about to start discussing her sordid past with a stranger. No doubt the town gossips would fight to fill her in. Instead, Ellie handed over a fifty-dollar note.

      The act of selecting and purchasing items seemed to convince the ambulance folk she was, in fact, physically fine. So, wanting to get this whole sorry episode over quickly, Ellie filled in her details and signed the release.

      When Ellie returned to the house, Matilda—sitting in an armchair in the living room—threw her arms up theatrically. “You’ve been gone an age. I was about to organize a search party.”

      “Sorry.” She walked through to the kitchen and began unloading the sparse supplies. Inwardly she laughed at the idea that anyone in this godforsaken town would give up their Sunday to search for her.

      “I almost called the police,” Matilda continued, her shrill voice carrying down the short hallway.

      “Thank God you didn’t,” Ellie called back. “I’ve had my fill of emergency services today.”

      “You’ve what?” There was a short silence and then a shuffle. Ellie could hear Matilda reaching for her crutches and knew she was trying to stand up.

      “Stay there!” she roared. “I’ll get us a drink and makeshift breakfast, and then I’ll fill you in.” On everything, she added silently. It was time.

      She took her time making the coffee and toast. She even cut each slice into little triangles, laid them decoratively on the plate and loaded it all onto an elaborate tray Mat had brought back from Mexico a few years ago. When she finally entered the living room, Matilda was leaning forward in the chair, her body tense, the expression on her face desperately curious.

      “What happened?”

      “I ran into Flynn.” Ellie’s tone suggested this was an everyday occurrence. She handed Mat her mug, then placed the toast on the little coffee table, positioning it within both their reach.

      “Oh.” For once Matilda seemed short of words. Then, eventually, “Dare I ask?”

      Ellie flopped into the armchair opposite. “It was a complete debacle. He looked like he wanted to vomit at the sight of me and I almost fainted.” She laughed a little hysterically. “Someone called an ambulance.”

      “You’ve been to the hospital?”

      She shook her head. “I refused to go.”

      Matilda waved an arm in front of her face. “Who cares about the hospital, I want to know about Flynn.”

      Ellie tried in vain to keep her hands and voice steady as she sipped her drink and filled Mat in on the events of the morning. Yet with every mention of Flynn the effort became all the more impossible.

      “My poor girl,” Matilda said, gesturing to the tissue box on the table. “You’ve held it in far too long. It’s time to let it out.”

      “I’m fine.” Ellie shoved the box and it plopped onto the floor. That got a skeptical smile and a brow lift from Matilda. “I am,” she insisted. “If I hadn’t seen the dress, I wouldn’t have been in such a soppy and sentimental mood when I ran into him. It’s not like I didn’t know it was going to happen sooner or later.” She paused to collect herself. “Why did you keep it?”

      “It wasn’t mine to throw away.”

      “No, I know, but...but...” But what? She’d always assumed Matilda would have given it to the Salvation Army or something.

      “At first I left it there because I thought you’d be back. You were so in love with him, no one was more surprised than me when you ran off like that. I knew you better than everyone, aside from Flynn, and he never suspected a problem. He was a wreck. So I was sure you’d be back.”

      A familiar guilt gnawed at Ellie’s heart and she rested her hand against her stomach. Nausea was the standard reaction whenever she thought of what she’d done to Flynn. She did her best to live her life in denial but occasionally—usually on lonely weekends, when all she had was the company of bad black-and-white movies on the telly—her thoughts turned to him. More than once she’d been physically sick.

      “Then,” continued Matilda, “by the time it became clear you’d made a life for yourself without him, the dress had been there so long. It probably sounds silly, but it made me feel closer to you. You were never as happy as the day you tried on that dress. Sometimes I’d come into the room, look at the dress СКАЧАТЬ