The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For. Marion Lennox

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The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For - Marion  Lennox

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be listening.

      ‘It’s just me,’ she added. Turning, she flapped her hand at Alex and he hesitated for only a moment before giving a curt nod and stepping out onto the veranda, sliding the door shut behind him. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Stella. You can talk through the door if you want, but it might be better if you let me come in.’

      Susie had to bite her lip to allow the next silence to continue long enough for Stella to think it through. Finally, when it seemed she might have failed already, she heard shuffling sounds and then an odd thumping on the door.

      ‘What’s happening? You haven’t hurt yourself, have you?’

      ‘I’m using my crutch.’ Stella’s voice was thick. She had been crying long enough to make it sound like she had a heavy head cold. ‘To open the lock.’

      Another thump then a bang and then Susie heard the metallic clink of the bolt moving. She tried the handle of the door and it opened.

      ‘Lock it again,’ Stella ordered.

      ‘OK.’ Susie obliged after a quick glance at the girl sitting on the floor in the space between the toilet and the bidet in the well-appointed bathroom. She looked exhausted and upset but not injured.

      Having locked the door, Susie closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, leaning forward to try and make eye contact with Stella.

      ‘What happened, sweetheart?’ she asked carefully. ‘Why didn’t you go to the disco?’

      Stella burst into tears again and Susie reached out automatically. And then Stella’s head was in her lap and all she could do was stroke the sparse dark hair under her hand as the teenager sobbed uncontrollably.

      ‘It’s awful,’ she choked out finally. ‘My new skirt is ruined…’

      ‘What’s wrong with it?’

      ‘It’s…it’s…’ Stella’s voice dropped to an almost inaudible groan. ‘The blood!

      Susie’s heart skipped a beat. Stella had hurt herself. Then something clicked into place. No wonder Alex hadn’t been welcome.

      ‘Is it your period, hon?’

      Susie’s jeans were wet from tears and now Stella’s nose was being rubbed on her leg as she nodded miserably.

      ‘Your first one?’

      ‘They said…it might not happen for ages because of the chemo. I didn’t think it would happen on camp. And not tonight!

      ‘No.’ Susie went back to stroking. ‘It sucks, doesn’t it? I’m so sorry you missed the disco.’

      ‘I bet Lauren was there.’

      Susie smoothed back fine wisps of hair from Stella’s face. ‘It’s you that Jamie likes,’ she said.

      ‘How do you know that?’

      ‘He came here, didn’t he? To check that you were going to the disco?’

      Stella had stopped crying. She raised her head enough to give Susie a suspicious glance.

      ‘I’ll tell you a secret,’ Susie continued. ‘Boys only use a nickname for girls they really like…Star.’

      ‘He won’t like me now.’

      ‘He’ll be disappointed that you didn’t make it tonight but he’ll get over it.’ Susie smiled. ‘Playing hard to get isn’t always a bad move, and at least he got to see you wearing your new clothes.’

      Stella pushed herself upright. ‘You reckon he’ll still talk to me?’

      ‘Go to the beach in the morning. Smile and see what happens.’

      ‘But I can’t!’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because…of…you know.’

      Susie shook her head. ‘Periods are a nuisance but they don’t need to stop you doing anything you want to do. Let’s get you sorted.’ She eyed the vanity unit. ‘These bathrooms come stocked with just about everything. I wouldn’t recommend trying tampons this time round but there’ll be something else. And why don’t I go and find your pyjamas? You can give me your skirt and knickers and I’ll get them washed and back to you tomorrow as good as new, I promise.’

      ‘Thank you so much.’

      Susie accepted the glass of red wine and sank back onto the comfortable veranda chair. ‘My pleasure. I’m just happy I was able to help.’

      ‘Which is probably directly attributable to the amount of time you’ve spent with my daughter in the last week.’ Alex was pouring himself a glass of wine. ‘You’ve obviously built up quite a rapport.’

      ‘She’s a great kid. You must be very proud of her.’

      ‘Of course.’ Alex put the wine bottle down. ‘You sure she’s all right now?’

      ‘She’s sound asleep. I’ll check in on her in the morning but we’ve had a good talk about everything.’ Susie’s smile escaped as she tried to make it sound as though she had tackled the situation in a professional manner. ‘She has an action plan.’

      Alex folded long limbs to sit down on the adjacent chair. ‘It didn’t even occur to me that it could be something like her period.’

      ‘Why should it? You’re a bloke.’

      ‘That’s no excuse. I’m a single parent. I’m supposed to think of everything.’

      ‘You get more than your fair share of things that need thinking about. Don’t beat yourself up, Alex.’ It was getting easier to use his name. Nothing like a bit of a crisis to get to know someone. ‘Even if you had thought of it, Stella would probably have been excruciatingly embarrassed. Maybe even more than she already was.’

      ‘Is it always like this? The first time, I mean?’

      ‘Depends.’ Susie took a thoughtful sip of her wine. ‘Mine wasn’t great. It was one of the only things I beat my twin sister Hannah at, but we were on a school camp at the time. I was only twelve and didn’t have anything with me and it was a girls’ school. There was this weird philosophy that only losers went to ask the teachers for help.’

      ‘What did you do?’

      ‘Coped. With wads of very scratchy toilet paper.’ Susie hurriedly took a larger swallow of her wine to try and wash away an inward cringe. Why on earth was she sharing a piece of history that personal with Alex?

      ‘Not something teenage boys have to deal with, thank goodness.’ Alex was sounding far more relaxed. He still hadn’t combed his hair or changed his shirt or shaved but, instead of looking like a distraught parent, he now looked rather deliciously dishevelled. ‘I guess the closest I got would have been my first—’

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