Best Friend...Future Wife. Claire Baxter

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СКАЧАТЬ shrimp car.’

      ‘Oh, shut up.’

      ‘Nice driving,’ he commented after a few moments.

      ‘Thanks.’ She enjoyed driving. It was one of the things she was good at. Which probably explained why she’d been lured by the car.

      ‘So, what happened to your ideals, Della?’

      ‘My ideals?’

      ‘The ones we talked about when we were at university. You were just as keen to fix the world as I was.’

      ‘I was young and silly and thought I knew everything.’

      ‘Now you’re old and silly and know you know nothing?’

      She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Something like that.’ She’d never been as focused as Luke. She’d admired the strength of his convictions, but had been more interested in creating a firm financial foundation for herself than in changing a world that didn’t want to be changed. ‘Where do you want me to drop you?’

      He stared at their surroundings for a moment. ‘North Terrace,’ he said, before turning back to face her. ‘It would be good to catch up. It’s been a while since we hung out together.’

      She heard a wistful undertone. ‘A while? It’s been ages.’

      ‘You’re not wrong. What about tomorrow? You could skip work for a day.’

      ‘I wish I could but I have a crisis, remember?’

      ‘Ah, yes. Dermont’s. A shining example of corporate social responsibility. Tomorrow night?’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m going out with Lyn. Hopefully.’

      ‘Hopefully?’

      ‘If Patrick can watch the kids.’

      ‘The night after, then?’

      ‘I’ll have to keep it open in case Lyn needs to reschedule.’

      She focused on manoeuvering the car into the kerb. It wasn’t a good place to stop, and he opened the door without delay.

      ‘Thanks,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Have a good night.’

      As soon as he closed the door, she set off towards the sea and her haven. Though she tried not to, she glanced repeatedly at her rear-view mirror, searching for a final glimpse of him before he disappeared from sight. It had taken all her energy to keep up the pretence tonight. She didn’t remember it being so difficult on his previous visits.

      Just for an instant, she wondered if there was a chance she’d ever be able to reveal her true feelings. Now he was divorced and home to stay, what was there to stop her?

      Friendship.

      He’d been head over heels when he’d brought Yvonne to meet his family. Besotted. She wouldn’t be surprised if he still loved her. If so, the last thing he needed was Della confessing her secrets and adding to his confusion.

      For now that was true, but what about the future?

      She clamped down on the thought. She had no business thinking about the future when she’d already accepted her priority was to be a friend to Luke.

      But could they pick up their friendship where they’d left off? Or would there be a distance between them that hadn’t existed before he’d gone overseas?

      On his brief visits back home, he’d been elusive, distracted. Passing through, nothing more. Thinking about his last story, his next story, not staying in one spot long enough to talk or, as he put it, hang out. Later, the one and only time he’d brought his wife home, he’d had no time or thought for anyone but Yvonne.

      They had heaps of catching up to do. A hell of a lot had happened in his life. But a great deal had happened to her too, and nothing she wanted to discuss. Just for starters, her illness and its consequences would be off-limits. Even with him back, and apparently ready to settle down, things could never be quite the same as before.

      The next morning, Della awoke with a headache. A certain smile had invaded her dreams, wrecking the small amount of sleep she’d had. After showering and dressing, she felt almost human. Despite the headache, she did feel better than she had the night before. She poured a glass of orange juice and made her way out to the front verandah from where she had a panoramic view of Gulf St Vincent. A rich turquoise sea met a deep blue, cloudless spring sky.

      A small public lawn area separated her front garden from the sandy beach. The road didn’t reach this far, a leftover from the days when the heritage-listed house had been built. She eased herself into the swing-seat suspended from the iron framework of the verandah and sipped the chilled juice while she thought about the previous day.

      If Luke was going to be living and working here, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him. Nor did she want to. Given the choice between never seeing him again, or loving him and having to hide it, she’d choose to put herself through the agony of being near him. Of course she would.

      She’d learned as a child that it was not only possible but essential to conceal the truth if it would do no good to display it. This didn’t make her dishonest, just very good at burying her feelings.

      Last night had confirmed she was as strongly attracted to Luke now as ever but, more important than that, she was Luke’s oldest friend. As far as she knew, he hadn’t kept in touch with any of his old mates from school or footy. And if he needed to talk about his marriage break-up, his oldest friend had a duty to be there for him. And she would.

      If he still loved his wife—and she suspected he did—he’d be suffering dreadfully. She’d certainly seen flashes of pain cross his eyes when he’d broken the news to his family. He was the type to make light of his feelings, so the fact he hadn’t been able to hide how much he hurt made her heart ache for him.

      If it would help him to talk about Yvonne, she’d listen. The next time he asked her to hang out, she wouldn’t make excuses. She’d force her feelings back into their box and do what she had to do.

      Raucous squawks from seagulls drew her head up, and she watched the birds circling for a minute before she stood to go inside. Much as she’d like to stay, she had no time to waste. She had a media conference to organise.

      On the way from the basement car park to her office, Della stopped by Reception to greet Bonnie and check for messages.

      Bonnie, framed by floral arrangements, sat behind a curved jarrah desk. ‘Hi, Della. Marvin’s been looking for you.’

      ‘Already? Is he in his office?’

      ‘Mmm. Jason’s in there too.’

      ‘Is he?’ Neither her boss, Marvin, nor her assistant could claim to be early starters. This crisis must have freaked them. She hurried to drop a pile of files on her desk, plonked down her briefcase and handbag, then headed along the passageway to Marvin’s corner office. With no sign of his secretary, Della knocked on his door and entered.

      ‘Here she is,’ Marvin said, consulting СКАЧАТЬ