‘The woman who rescued her,’ the firefighter said. ‘She—I know her. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get in touch with her.’
‘You know Carol?’
‘I do.’
There was something in his voice. A hesitation. And suddenly Anna understood. This was Carol’s son. The one in the video. She’d been so caught up in this … whatever it was … attraction … that the name hadn’t registered. Carol had mentioned her son Justin. And they shared the same last name. She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Of course, there was no way she was going to share Carol’s number. She was an intensely private woman who hung on the edge of their small community without ever really joining in. Not even this overwhelming attraction that was turning Anna’s insides to mush was enough to make her tell him what he wanted to know.
‘I’m sorry. I really don’t think I can give out her phone number without her permission.’
Justin looked like he was going to say something, but obviously changed his mind. He did seem disappointed as he nodded. ‘I understand. If I left my number, perhaps you could give it to her when next you see her?’
‘Of course.’
He pulled a card from the zip pocket in his jacket. ‘This card has details of the Tamworth RFS station where I am based. But I’ll write my mobile on it as well. Have you got a pen?’
She did.
When he was finished writing, he handed her the card. ‘Well, thank you for your time. I hope the koala continues to get better.’
‘I’m sure she will. We’ll be releasing her back into the wild in a few days—as long as there’s some trees somewhere not burned out.’
‘Well, I’ll do my best to see that there are.’ He smiled and turned away.
Anna watched as the vehicle reversed and drove towards the gate, leaving her standing outside her clinic, wondering why she felt slightly bereft. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, to react like that when meeting a good-looking guy. Well, more than simply good-looking. But as she stood staring down the now empty road, she realised it wasn’t his looks, no matter how spectacular, that had done this to her. Nor was it that cute smile nor the way he’d talked to the injured koala. He’d won her over because, for the first time in years, a man hadn’t done a double take when he looked at her face. When they’d talked, his eyes hadn’t slid away from her eyes to the left side of her face, as so many others had. He hadn’t shown any repulsion or sympathy or pity. Maybe he was just better at hiding his reaction than most people.
Not only that, but not once during his short visit had she felt the urge to turn her head, to cover the scar. When he looked at her with those deep brown eyes, she had forgotten all about her scarred face. Doing that, even for such a short time, was a rare and precious thing.
She gently rubbed the left side of her face. He had treated her as if she was still the person she used to be and that was extraordinary. She looked down at the small square of cardboard in her hand and realised there were two cards there. One for Carol and … Had he left that extra card deliberately? For her? He’d only written his number on one, but she could easily copy it.
She shook her head. There was no point to doing that. Someone like him could have any woman he wanted. He would date beautiful women, not someone like her. She slipped the cards into her pocket and walked determinedly back into the main clinic.
CHAPTER
5
The fire service was pulling out of Wagtail Ridge. As Carol drove into the town, she saw movement at the hall, where the RFS teams had gathered as rain doused the fire. A few of the townsfolk were handing out coffee and sandwiches. Carol hadn’t planned to stop in town, but she parked her car near the pub, where she’d have a clear view of the activity without being seen herself. All the firefighters were wearing their distinctive blue and yellow uniforms, but she saw her sons immediately.
They were loading boxes of equipment into the back of a Toyota ute. They worked so easily together. As if they heard each other’s thoughts. It had always been like that. Shared thoughts. Shared emotions. Shared reactions. Two boys speaking with the same voice—for good or bad.
When she’d last seen them together, they were teenagers, staring at her with hurt and anger on their faces. Now here they were. Grown men. Firefighters helping a community. Her eyes filled with tears but she brushed them away, not wanting anything to interfere with these precious moments. The boys seemed taller than all those years ago. Well—not boys any more. These were grown men, obviously used to hard physical labour. Their shoulders were broad and they lifted the boxes with ease, laughing together as they did. That special closeness they’d had was obviously still there. They probably still finished each other’s sentences. Carol wondered if they still played board games. In her mind’s eye, she could see them sitting at the table playing Monopoly or Squatter. They had played for hours, with neither emerging as a clear winner. They’d played other games too on the ageing wooden table in their kitchen. Games that made no sense to her, but kept the boys amused for hours. Ben had wanted computer games as well, but she hadn’t been able to afford them.
They still looked exactly alike. When they were kids, she’d received so many notes from their school, where they’d driven their teachers mad with their identity games. Those games had never worked on her. Even when they were babies, she’d never confused them. Justin had entered the world with a serious look on his face, as if taking his role as the oldest to heart even then. Ben had entered the world with a smile and remained the trickster ever since. He was always the one looking for mischief and Justin was always the one getting him out of trouble. Or had been. While she knew them by sight, and always would, she had no idea of the sort of men they had become. Although, if they had become firefighters, there had to be good in them.
The departure preparations across the road were complete and the firefighters climbed into their vehicles. A couple of horns sounded a cheerful farewell as they pulled away from the hall and onto the road that would take them to the New England Highway—and presumably back to their home base, wherever that was.
Carol’s heart pounded. Was she going to lose her sons again? She could have simply walked across the road and spoken to them. But she’d left it too late and now they were leaving. She reached for the door handle anyway, but the vehicles were gathering speed. Even if they saw her, they wouldn’t stop.
And if they did, what could she say?
How could you have done this? Lied like that? For all these years. I hate you and never want to see you again.
Ben’s words still echoed in her ears. What could she say that would take away the pain and anger of betrayal and a lifetime of lies?
Carol dropped her head onto her hands, which were clutching the steering wheel so tightly the knuckles showed white. A few long, deep breaths calmed her racing heart, and then she heard voices approaching. Although she lived a little way out of town, and rarely mixed socially, the people of the Ridge knew her. The last thing she wanted now was to talk to anyone. Especially someone who, just a few minutes ago, had been talking to her boys.
‘Carol, how are you?’ Deb from the pub said.
‘Carol, that is you in the video, isn’t it? We all thought it was.’ This from Val, who ran the post office and the town’s gossip grapevine.
