another sip of her coffee.
In all fairness to Angus, though, Mia thought, it took two to fight. ‘Did Ned never contact you?’
‘He had no idea where I was. For a while there in the air force I wasn’t contactable anyway.’ He stood up, properly filled her cup, and then carried his plate to the sink where he rinsed it.
That little action, a tiny thing that Mark had never done in the whole time they’d been together, dissolved any last remnants of anger from yesterday.
That Angus topped up her coffee, regardless of the fact she wouldn’t finish it and had put a plate in the sink because it was not her job, or Louisa’s, to look after him, did a strange thing to her stomach. Made her look at Angus again in a much more favourable light. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her frozen stare.
He had to have other faults, she decided. ‘Tell me about when you left home with Simon’s mother.’ Something he did must have driven her away. ‘Didn’t you know she was unhappy?’
He held up his hands in surrender. ‘I must have missed it. She was pregnant! I thought she was moody from the pregnancy. But gradually I began to see I was more excited about the pregnancy than she was. I certainly hadn’t expected to have a child at twenty, but when it happened I actually got used to the idea I would be a father, planned to be a good one, and really looked forward to the birth. But we had little money after bills and she missed the comfort she was accustomed to. Her parents owned the large hotel on the lake in those days. They kept telling her I was too young to look after her properly.’
‘So why did you think she’d lost the baby back then?’
He didn’t answer immediately, and she thought he wasn’t going to, but he did. ‘I never knew how it happened. Could only imagine and, of course, you imagine the worst. It started one day when she said she was going home for a visit to her parents and two days later she rang me to say she’d had a stillbirth. A son. I’d spent the last two nights painting a cot and had bought things for the baby to surprise her and now our baby was gone. Lost. And I’d never even seen him and never would. I was devastated.’
He looked at her and despite the lack of tell-tale signs she knew those memories had shaped the man.
‘I think I know why most people heal better when they see and hold a child that has died. When I was in disaster areas I was just as anxious to retrieve those that had died for that reason. To make it possible for a parent to hold that child, hug them, for what was going to be the last time they had the chance to parent that child. I got none of that and I really wanted it. I wanted to see my son, but she said the funeral had come and gone.’
He shook his head. ‘But Simon didn’t die in utero. He was growing up with another father all the time. As far as I knew, he was gone. I’ve always wondered what he looked like. She told me she just wanted to forget so I thought the worst. And, of course, she didn’t come back.’
‘Why didn’t you return to the lake to see her later?’
‘She told me she didn’t want me to follow her home.’
Poor Angus. To be locked out of sharing his grief while being estranged from his own family as well.
He looked away and she could see he regretted his disclosures. She hoped that now he’d spoken about them he might begin to heal. And surely it would help now he could at least begin to be a second father to Simon.
‘So nineteen years later Simon just appeared?’
‘So it seems. In fact, she hadn’t miscarried, just met and decided on her future husband, and her pact included telling Simon the other man was his real father.’
He shrugged. ‘I might not have made it back to the lake if Simon hadn’t forced my hand. So here I am. Now, if you don’t mind, that subject is closed.’
Mia subsided, sniffed, and her olfactory cells celebrated. ‘So where…’ he turned and stared her down, daring her to ask another question and she resisted the temptation and grinned ‘…do you get your coffee beans?’
He froze, his cheek twitched, but no smile. But nearly, buster, she thought. I nearly had you.
‘Touché,’ he said. ‘Shades of me yesterday. You had me going then.’
She smiled into the cup. ‘Yep.’
‘You realize, of course, it’s your fault I’ll have seven days in Lyrebird Lake.’
‘Your choice.’
‘Your suggestion.’
Mia shrugged. ‘I just said you should. You don’t know me from Adam.’
‘Oh, I think I’d know the difference between you and Adam.’ He looked her up and down and suddenly she remembered her thoughts of him that first day he’d arrived. The bathroom, she could feel the steam on her skin, and hear the sound from the door that he’d kick shut with both of them inside. She could feel the heat steal up her cheeks and a sudden flutter in her stomach made her push out her chair in a sudden ungainly rush.
His voice followed her to the door. ‘So what are you doing this morning?’
Brain? Where was her brain? Then it began to work again. ‘I’ve a breathing and relaxation class with a new couple.’ Thank goodness for the excuse, she thought.
‘Breathing. I’m very interested in that. Did my obstetric rotation years ago and there’s something very special about the moment of birth, especially a calm one.’
Where was this going? Mia thought warily.
She’d been right to be wary. ‘Any chance of tagging along to listen?’ Angus said. ‘One of the medics at the base and his wife rave about breathing.’
Her stomach dropped. What a load of rubbish, she thought as she paused with her back to him, but could she think of a single good reason why he couldn’t come? Nope. She sighed. ‘I’m leaving at ten o’clock on the dot.’
‘This is Angus. He’s Dr Ned’s son and works for the government in disaster relief.’
Angus held out his hand to Paul, and to Mia’s surprise he even smiled at Josephine. ‘I hope you don’t mind me listening in. I’m very interested in Mia’s relaxation theories.’
Paul shrugged easily. ‘No problem. The government, eh? I’m up at the mine. Site manager. My wife Josephine is a schoolteacher. Do you fly?’
Angus nodded. ‘Mostly helicopters, or nothing bigger than a twin, anyway. What about you?’
Paul looked proudly at his wife. ‘Jo and I met at the aero club. She restored her own Tiger Moth and I fly an Auster.’
The smile Angus showed them was the most genuine Mia had seen. ‘You both fly rag and tube aeroplanes? That’s great. Love to come up with you one day. Maybe you’d like a trip if the chopper comes down tomorrow. They’ll be dropping me back late afternoon and we could go up then.’
‘Paul can go.’ Jo looked down at her tummy ruefully. ‘I’m too fat to climb into helicopters.’
‘Maybe I’d better
