“Oh, that sounds confusing.”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, what’s he doing here, anyway?”
“He wanted to talk to me. But I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Talking might be good?” Maddy suggested tentatively.
“No. Talking would be bad.”
Maddy followed Amber’s gaze to where they could see David getting into his car and driving off at an uncharacteristically slow speed in the opposite direction to Christchurch. “That’s a shame.”
Amber sighed in agreement.
“Come on,” said Maddy, putting her arm around Amber. “Let’s go join the family.”
“No, you go,” said Amber. “I’m going home. Tell them I’m feeling tired, will you?”
“Sure.”
And, for once, her family didn’t follow her, but let her get into her car and drive the short distance to her home. She knew they could see her from there. See her from across the reserve to her row of cottages. She knew they could watch as she parked her yellow VW—she’d offload the stuff the next day—and walk up her path, greet her neighbors, and open her door. But she knew they wouldn’t be able to see her tears as she closed her door.
She automatically went to the kitchen, filled the kettle and placed it on the hob to boil. She leaned against the kitchen bench and looked out through her small rooms, to the sunny reserve in the distance, her mind full of one question—what was it that David wanted to say to her?
Amber had thoughtshe’d managed to escape interfering family and friends, but when a knock came at her door, just as dusk was falling, she realized she’d been mistaken. Couldn’t they take a hint?
“Yes?” she said briskly, opening the door wide, prepared to tell her family where to go. But instead, her gaze lowered to a woman in a wheelchair.
“Oh, hello!” said Amber, with an uncertain smile.
The woman had long dark hair and was beautifully made up. She looked familiar somehow. She smiled back. She could have been a model, if… Amber’s gaze flickered down to the wheelchair. It looked custom built, it looked permanent.
“Hello, Amber.”
Amber’s smile widened as she racked her brain trying to think who this beautiful woman was. She gave up.
“I’m sorry, but if we’ve met before, I’ve forgotten. Brain like a sieve.”
“We haven’t met. We have a mutual friend who’s told me a lot about you. And I’ve seen you around. I recently moved here.”
“Oh,” said Amber, wondering whether she should invite this stranger in. She didn’t look as if she’d do Amber any harm. Her brothers were always warning her not to invite waifs and strays home. “Would you like to come in for a cuppa? The kettle’s just boiled.”
“That’s lovely of you, but no. For one thing, I’d have difficulty getting my wheelchair over the threshold and through that narrow gap. Old cottages are a nightmare for wheelchairs. And for another…” She trailed off. But her gaze didn’t waver.
Amber cocked her head to one side and smiled hesitantly again. “For another?”
“I’m not sure you’ll want me in your house once you know why I’m here.”
Amber laughed. “I doubt that. I can’t imagine you could do anything except light up a room you’re in. You’re so beautiful!”
“You’re exactly as he described.”
A warning tremor zapped through Amber. The smile faded, and she frowned. “He?”
“Yes. He said you were sweet as sweet could be. I said you couldn’t be. But he insisted. Seems he was right.” She extended her hand to Amber, who had no choice but to take it. “I’m Zoe Tremayne, David’s sister. And I’ve come to tell you why you should give him a second chance.”
Amber was rarely speechless but, as she stood there on her doorstep with her mouth wide open, not a word of response came into her brain. Of course she knew David had a sister, but not one who was both beautiful and in a wheelchair. And that this unknown sister should choose to pay her a visit with the intention of pleading his case astounded her.
