Reunited By A Baby Bombshell. Barbara Hannay

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      ‘You haven’t changed,’ he said quietly.

      She shook her head. Of course she’d changed. They’d all changed in so many ways, both on the outside and, undoubtedly, within. But she played the game. ‘Neither have you, Griff. Not really.’

      At this, his smile almost reached his eyes.

      She wondered if he was about to say something conciliatory. It would be helpful to at least share a few pleasantries to bridge the wide chasm of years. Of silence.

      And guilty secrets.

      ‘I hear you’ve been very successful,’ he said. ‘You’re world-famous now. Congratulations.’

      Receiving this praise from Griff, delivered in such a chilling tone, she wanted to cry.

      But she swallowed the burning lump in her throat, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘You’ve been very successful, too.’

      He responded with the merest nod and only the very faintest trace of a smile. ‘I imagine we’ve both worked hard.’

      ‘Yes.’

      People all around them were chatting and laughing, waving and calling greetings, sharing hugs, enjoying themselves immensely, but Eva couldn’t think of anything else to say.

      Griff said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, Eva, I’ll head over to the bar and grab a drink, too.’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘I’m sure we’ll run into each other again during the weekend.’

      ‘I...I...yes, I’m sure.’

      With another nod, he dismissed her. As he moved away, she felt horribly deserted, as if she’d been left alone on a stage with a spotlight shining on her so everyone could see her. She could almost hear the music that accompanied The Dying Swan, the sad notes of a lone cello.

      Oh, for heaven’s sake.

      Eva blinked and looked around her. The reunion was gathering steam. The balcony and the large dining room inside the clubhouse were almost full now with chattering, happy people and no one was staring at her.

      She drifted, clutching her warming glass of champagne. She looked at the corkboard covered with old photographs. There were class photos, sporting teams, the senior formal, the school camp on Fraser Island. She saw a photo of herself in the netball team, Griff and his mates in striped football jerseys and shorts. Another photo showed her in a ballet tutu and pointe shoes, performing a solo for the school concert.

      The old photographs conjured memories—the school disco when she and Griff danced together for the very first time, the dates when he’d taken her to the movies and they’d snogged each other senseless in the popcorn-scented dark, the barbecue for his eighteenth, the bonfire on the beach. And afterwards...

      The memories were beyond painful and the urge to cry wouldn’t go away.

      ‘Would you like something to eat?’

      Eva turned. A young girl was offering her a tray laden with canapés.

      ‘Prosciutto crostini with dried cherries and goats’ cheese,’ the girl said. ‘Or potato cakes with smoked salmon.’

      Eva wasn’t hungry, but she took a potato cake. Anything was better than staring miserably at those photos. She even managed to smile at the girl, who was rather interesting-looking, with dark hair cut into a trendy asymmetrical style. She had a silver nose stud as well, and there were purple streaks in the long fringe of hair that hung low, framing one side of her pretty heart-shaped face.

      The girl returned Eva’s smile. ‘You might like a napkin.’ She nodded to the small pile on one side of her tray.

      ‘Thanks,’ Eva said.

      The girl was staring at Eva and there was something intriguing, almost familiar, about her clear grey eyes. ‘You’re Eva Hennessey,’ the girl said. ‘The ballet dancer.’

      ‘Yes, that’s right.’

      The girl’s eyes widened. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You live in Paris, don’t you? How amazing to meet you.’

      Eva smiled, feeling calmer. This was familiar ground. ‘It’s great to be back in Australia,’ she said. ‘Are you from the Bay?’

      The girl gave a small laugh that might have been nervous. ‘Kinda. But I’m studying at university in Brisbane now.’ Then she must have realised she was spending too long in one place. ‘Better get going,’ she said, and she hurried away to offer the platter to a nearby group.

      Before long, Eva was absorbed into another group of schoolmates and was once again fielding friendly questions or listening to their stories about their old teachers, about their jobs, their kids or their holidays in New Zealand or Bali.

      It was easy enough to avoid Griff and she was beginning to relax a little and to enjoy herself once more. If she and Griff kept apart by mutual agreement, the evening might be manageable after all.

      * * *

      Griff was feeling calmer as he stood in a group by the bar. Half his old rugby league team were gathered there and the guys were having a great old time sharing memories—the game when Tony King broke his leg while scoring a try, or the year they won the regional premiership by a whisker, when Jonno Briggs kicked a freakish field goal.

      The whole time, though, Griff was all too aware of Eva’s presence, even though she was at the far end of the room with her back to him. He did his damnedest to stop looking her way, but it was as if he had special radar beaming back sensory messages about her every move.

      ‘Would you like something to eat, sir?’

      A girl arrived, offering canapés.

      ‘Thanks.’ The savouries looked appetising. Griff smiled. ‘I might take two.’

      The girl laughed and there was a flash in her eyes, a tilt to her smile—something that felt uncannily familiar. For a moment longer than was necessary, the girl’s gaze stayed on Griff, almost as if she were studying him. Fine hairs lifted on the back of his neck.

      The feeling was unsettling and he might have said something, but then she turned and began serving the others. She didn’t look Griff’s way again and he decided he must have been more on edge about the whole Eva business than he’d realised.

      He would be glad when this night was over.

      * * *

      Dinner was about to be served and everyone settled at long tables. Eva sat with some old girlfriends and their husbands. Griff was two tables away, almost out of sight, and she did her best to stop her gaze from stealing in his direction. She was relatively successful, but twice he caught her sending a furtive glance his way. Both times he looked angry and she felt her cheeks heat brightly.

      ‘Are you all right, Eva?’ asked Jane, who was sitting opposite her.

      ‘Yes, of course.’ Eva knew she must СКАЧАТЬ