The Wedding Countdown. Barbara Hannay

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offered her a mock bow, and she knew he was trying to annoy her. The motion conveyed no trace of humility, but he lifted the carryall from her shoulder with athletic grace. She followed him down the short flight of steps to the garage.

      ‘Do we have far to drive?’ he asked.

      ‘Not really—only to South Townsville.’ She stopped on the second last step, causing him to turn. ‘Isaac…’ He stared at her speculatively. ‘About staying here till the wedding,’ she said nervously. ‘You don’t have to, you know. I mean, you’ve been gone for so long. Why come back now?’

      ‘It really bothers you?’

      She reached for the iron rail beside her. ‘No, of course it doesn’t bother me. But you don’t like Paul particularly…’

      ‘What makes you say that?’

      Her shoulder lifted in a tiny shrug. ‘I guess it’s just something I’ve sensed.’

      Isaac stood very still staring at her. His gaze seemed to read the very depths of her soul. He was silent for the longest time, and Tessa kept a strong grip on the railing.

      ‘Then you’ve sensed wrongly,’ he replied at last, speaking so softly she could only just hear the words. His voice rose. ‘But I’ll be damned if I’m going to start praising the fellow just to make you feel better.’

      ‘Of course, I don’t need you to—’

      ‘Besides, it doesn’t really matter how I feel about your man, does it? I’m not marrying him.’

      ‘No, I didn’t mean—’ Tessa shook her head desperately.

      Isaac swung her bag casually over his shoulder and turned towards the car. ‘You love him, and that’s all that counts. Isn’t that right?’

      ‘Y-yes. Of course.’

      ‘So if it doesn’t bother you to have me here, and the sight of your bridegroom doesn’t worry me in the slightest, is there really a problem?’

      Tessa shook her head dazedly and stepped towards the car. ‘No problem. Let’s go,’ she muttered and walked quickly to the passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it for her.

      They drove through the city in silence, but as they approached South Townsville, Isaac looked at the railway yards and old sheds curiously.

      ‘I’m surprised you’re not working in one of the newer suburbs,’ he commented. ‘But I suppose gentrification of inner suburbs has reached Townsville as well as the southern cities.’

      ‘To a certain extent,’ Tessa agreed. ‘Trendy couples are buying old Queenslander cottages and renovating and extending them to look just like the pictures you see in house and garden magazines.’

      ‘And I guess it’s the offspring of these young and upwardly mobile professionals who attend your admirable preschool,’ he said, shooting her a knowing glance.

      ‘So what are you implying?’ she asked. She had a fair idea. He considered her a snob at work as well as in her private life.

      ‘Don’t fret, Tessa. I’m sure you give these smart young fry a flying start in the education rat-race.’ A brief smile illuminated his face.

      But the smile evaporated with her next words. ‘My school is over here on the left.’

      Isaac applied the brake and changed gears while trying to locate the spot Tessa indicated. He stared at the dilapidated, long, low building of fibro painted a garish yellow trimmed with red, then blinked as he focused on a sign painted near the front entrance—Burrawang Day Care and PreSchool Centre.

      ‘This is it?’ he asked, as he pulled into the kerb, unable to disguise the surprise in his voice.

      ‘Yes,’ she replied with a smile, enjoying his shock and already looking forward to the day ahead. She loved her work. ‘Thanks for the lift, Isaac.’

      As she opened her door, his hand on her arm stilled her. ‘How about I pick you up and we catch a bite to eat at lunchtime?’

      Tessa’s smile froze. ‘Oh, I can’t possibly get away then. I have to supervise the children’s lunches.’

      ‘Don’t you have any assistants?’

      ‘Yes, two wonderful women, but…’

      ‘I’m sure they’d let you off for half an hour or so. I think we need to talk—to set things straight before the big day.’

      ‘I—I don’t know,’ Tessa demurred. She needed a day free from Isaac—a chance to catch her breath, to refocus on her wedding. ‘Aren’t you going sailing? Dad said you should take Antares for a run.’

      ‘I think it would be wise if we talk things through,’ he said. ‘I might go for a sail late this afternoon. But we need to lay a few ghosts before you embark on your new life.’

      ‘Do you really think so?’ she muttered.

      ‘Damn sure of it.’

      ‘Won’t it mean going over unpleasant memories?’

      Isaac stared at her, and the hand on the steering wheel clenched. For a moment she wondered if he regretted the impulsive invitation. ‘Let’s hope not,’ he said, shifting his gaze to the road ahead. ‘I’m sure we can manage a civilised, adult conversation.’

      ‘All right then,’ she replied uncertainly. ‘Pick me up at one o’clock.’

      She told herself she could do it. She would steer away from dangerously provocative topics—like his reasons for abandoning her. He’d take her to lunch and tell her all about his success in his business. And she would tell him about Paul’s plans to build a house on the hill. After they’d both been through the superficial exercise of fulfilling each other’s expectations, she would feel better. She’d be able to waltz past him down the aisle on Saturday and she wouldn’t feel a thing.

      That was the plan.

      At one o’clock she met him just inside the door. She was almost getting used to the impact of his spellbinding male elegance, even in jeans and a white polo shirt.

      ‘I’d like to come in and have a squiz around if I may,’ he surprised her by asking.

      Frowning, Tessa stepped back and gestured for him to continue inside.

      ‘I’ve never been in one of these places. Never went to one myself, of course,’ he said with a self-conscious laugh. ‘My mother was always too…’

      ‘Of course, Isaac,’ Tessa murmured soothingly. He looked as if his confidence had suddenly deserted him, and Tessa’s heart leapt. ‘Many of these children have mothers like yours….’

      She didn’t continue. There was no point in filling in the details about his deserted mother, who’d clung to her drug addiction as an excuse to never recover after his father left them and was later reported killed. He’d shared the horrors of his early childhood with her once, in the days when she thought

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