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‘I’ll call security at your apartment to let me in. On my way. I’m only a couple of minutes from you.’

Dru sagged back against the front door and her legs slid out in front of her. Her maternity slacks were soaked and she could feel the cold tiles through the thin cotton. The pain had eased for a few minutes; maybe it was because she knew someone was coming to help her. For the first time since she’d seen Connor, her thoughts began to form a coherent pattern.

Ruby. Ruby had to be picked up from daycare at twelve-thirty; it was her half day.

Dru’s hands shook as she reached for the phone. She didn’t want to do it, but there was no choice.

She pulled up Connor in messages and typed.

Pick up Ruby. I can’t.

It was only about ten seconds before her phone beeped.

I can’t either.

You bastard, she thought.

Organise something. I’m waiting for an ambulance.

Dru’s phone rang almost instantly. Her husband’s photo appeared on the screen.

Ah, so that’s the way to get his attention.

She looked up as the panel beside the lift lit up. Emma had been true to her word. The lift was on the way to their floor.

Dru looked down at her phone as it rang. Anger resurfaced and she pressed the red button to end the incoming call.

Chapter 11

McLaren Mango Farm - Monday

Tarni

Tarni went back to the kitchen. She turned the stove off, gave her veggie stir-fry a quick stir and put the lid on the frying pan. The McLaren’s kitchen was beautifully organised, and she’d had no trouble finding anything that she needed. As Ellie had said, the fridge was well stocked, and there was so much fresh food, Tarni couldn’t ignore it. She’d decided to cook a hot lunch and then go down to the shed and see where her gear was and get herself organised.

She certainly wouldn’t be able to eat everything that was in there, and she hated waste. She’d ask the manager if he would take some. One thing that she had tried to do well over the past eighteen months was to eat properly. She knew how much weight she’d lost; it was strange how the mind could take over the physical side of your body. Even though she ate well, she could only handle small meals and the weight still dropped off her.

Tarni had noticed Ellie looking at her, and she knew that she didn’t look well. With her height, losing weight did make her look painfully thin. She was tired because she didn’t sleep well at night; it was too hard to let go of the memories.

Time. It would take time.

And focus. This was the opportunity to fill her mind with something more than memories and what could have been.

She found two green Woolies bags under the sink and opened the fridge, putting more than half of the fresh meat into one, and then about a third of the fresh veggies and fruit into the other.

Ellie McLaren must have been expecting her to have the appetite of a horse. Then again, she was just being thoughtful. The house was immaculate, and there were little welcoming touches throughout.

It was nothing like Tarni had expected at a working farm. The house appeared to be fairly new, and it was in immaculate condition even with three children. The walls were spotless, and the carpet looked new. Her bedroom—the guest bedroom—was stylishly decorated with a colourful red and black doona cover, matching lampshades and cushions, and a vase of fresh flowers sat on the chest of drawers beneath a large circular mirror.

The ensuite bathroom of the guest room was tiled in pale grey and white with red and black accessories, fluffy white towels, bottles of bath gel, and another vase of flowers on the vanity. Ellie had gone to a lot of trouble to make it welcoming for her, and in a small way, that thoughtfulness made Tarni feel more settled.

It had been eighteen months since anyone had cared about her feelings. Unless you counted Sally and Tamika’s attempts to cheer her up.

As she stood at the open door of the fridge, looking to see what else she could take down to the shed, she thought back to that night a year ago when her friends had taken her out. They hadn’t understood the depth of her grief. Both Sally and Tamika were divorced and believed Tarni should be able to move on without a partner, the same as they had. They’d called constantly asking her out with them.

‘Come on, Tarni, it’ll do you good. It’ll get you out of that head of yours,’ Sally said. ‘A few drinks to relax, some dance music and you can let your hair down.’

Let my hair down?No, thank you. She’d made many excuses.