For better or worse, he ignited a lifelong passion in me for all things Egyptian. Okay, I’m self-aware enough to understand that following him into a career in academia is a big middle finger to the man who abandoned me without a backward glance. At least it’s a productive outlet for my anger. I didn’t turn to booze and party drugs like my brother. All I can hope is that one day, Liam gets the help he needs to deal with his pain.
Right now, I need to get out of my head and concentrate on the road. And on the potential drama we might be walking into. Having babies in a barn is no joke.
“Is this the first grandchild? I mean, children?” I ask as we exit the main motorway south onto a road that takes us over the hills towards the coast.
“No. My brother Ben has a little boy—Andrea, and Greer is pregnant with their first. Although, keep that to yourself. She doesn’t know we know about it yet.”
I mime zipping my lips, and for the first time since I met him at the optometrist Ethan cracks a small smile.
I settle in to enjoy the pleasure of driving a car that doesn’t lurch every time it changes gears. That has heated leather seats and that delicious new car smell. Ethan’s phone connected to the sound system as soon as we got into the car, so I turn up the volume. It’s a fabulous playlist, full of some of my favourite bands, including Seraphina Cloud, who were playing at the pubthe night we met. So I hum along, trying not to think too hard about being flung into the middle of Ethan’s family on such an emotional occasion.
We make phenomenal time, considering it’s midafternoon on a weekday, and before I know it Ethan is directing me to turn right up Bangalay Mountain Road.
“Take it carefully; it’s steep and very windy.”
He’s not wrong. Hairpin after hairpin holds my concentration. It’s a shame because I’ve never been down this way before, and the quick glimpses I’m getting of the views are awesome.
It’s impossible not to notice the closer we get to the destination in the satnav, the thicker the tension in the car gets. Ethan is wearing his best poker face, but his shoulders are tense, his knuckles white as his hands clench on his knees. Knowing someone he loves is giving birth to babies in a barn would be worrying, but I get the sense there’s more to it than that.
Finally, we turn onto a short dirt road. Ethan gives me a code to punch into a keypad beside the gate, and rather than turn right towards the house he directs me to the left, where there are a couple of barns at the bottom of a steep hill. Even in the relatively tight confines of the car, his whole body seems to angle away from the rolling green paddocks to the right of the house.
We get to the bottom of the hill and a closed paddock gate. Ethan gets out and fumbles with the gate latch, closing it behind me as I drive through, and then we're bouncing along a rutted track to where a couple of battered farm trucks and an ancient VW are parked. A massive blond guy and a woman in a wildly colourful, tie-dyed dress lean casually against the tailgate of a truck with a faded insignia for Bangalay Vet Clinic on the door as though nothing in the world could be amiss. Which is a good sign, I guess.
“Where are they?” Ethan asks as I park and we climb out of his car. “Is everything …” He doesn’t finish the thought.
“They’re inside. It’s all good. We’re just giving the new family a few minutes to bond,” says the woman. “You must be Ethan. We haven’t met. I’m Diana.” And she takes both his hands in hers. It looks strangely like a benediction. Ethan seems momentarily stunned, which is most unlike him. But he was raised right, there’s no question about that.
“Diana, Paul, this is Sadie. Sadie, Paul is Mum and Dad’s farm manager, and Diana is a friend of Freyja’s.” His eyes flick to the partially closed door of the barn. “So, the babies are here? Everyone’s okay?”
“Yep. Safely and efficiently delivered by their dad. Twenty fingers and twenty toes. I think Will’s in the worst shape of anyone, to be honest.” Paul drawls with a lazy smile that suggests he didn’t have a moment of doubt all would be well.
As if on cue there’s a loud wail from inside the barn, followed by laughter and, strangely, or not so strangely, the mooing of a cow.
Ethan looks unsure what to do, and I swear his eyes are suddenly glassy, so I give him a nudge.
“He called you. He wanted you here.”
We exchange a quick glance, and then he disappears through the door, hand braced against the wall of the barn in deference to his still-blurry vision.
“So, Sadie, how long have you and Ethan been together?” Diana asks.
Paul snorts.
“Oh, we’re not together. I just drove him down because he’d had drops …” My explanation peters out at the expression on her face.
“Hmm,” she says, with a look that reaches right inside my head, rummages around and finds what it’s searching for. “There seems to be a pattern with this family. Don’t worry. You’ll work it out.” She pauses, head tilted, eyes unfocussed, before shepins me with that look again. “Oh, and you’ll know when you’ve found it. You’ll hear it calling to you.”
Weird.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan
Although it’s dim in the barn, and I’m still dealing with the lingering effects of the drops in my eyes, I spot my brother propped against the side wall, his arm around the blanket-draped shoulder of the woman who turned his life around. Tucked in the other arm is a tiny bundle of towels that I guess contains a baby, and pressed up against Freyja’s chest is another bundle.
They’re so absorbed in the bundles, and each other, that they don’t even notice me, and I take a moment to drink in the scene and get my emotions in check before I speak.
If fate hadn’t intervened, that could’ve been me. Wrapping an arm around the woman I loved, cradling a baby. Well, maybe not the twins part. And not the barn. Regardless, the universe had other plans, and here I am. Alone.
