And to Rose’s credit she gave a bright smile. ‘That sounds exciting.’ But her smile faded as there was a low rumble in the street and as Rose went to the window she glanced anxiously at her daughter.
‘Nick’s here,’ Rose said. ‘On a bike.’
And, worse, he had two helmets.
‘Hi, Rose.’ Nick grinned. ‘I’m taking Alison to Palm Beach—where they film that soap.’
‘Nick…’ She could see her mother’s bleached face and knew she had to do something. ‘I haven’t been on a bike.’
‘I’m the one riding it,’ Nick said. ‘All you have to do is hold on. Come on, Alison, I’ve got everything planned.’
The sun was in his eyes, so maybe he couldn’t see her expression. Part of her knew she was being ridiculous, he was hardly going to go roaring off. It should have been the perfect surprise; it almost was. She wanted to grab the helmet he was offering, to climb on, to be the young woman she once had been, to spend a precious day with the man she adored.
So she tried.
‘See you, Mum.’
‘Alison, be ca—’ And Rose tried too because she smothered down her warning. ‘Have a good day.’
‘I’ll call you,’ Alison promised, before her mum asked, and there was fear and trepidation but a certain exhilaration too as she took the helmet and did as he asked and just held on.
She held onto his back and felt the machine thrum into life, her lips tightly closed, breathing through her nose, utterly rigid as they made their way through the city and over the vast bridge. She wanted so many times to tell him to stop, to let her off, and yet there was a thrill, a thrill that felt almost like pure joy as they left the city behind. The bay glistened ever more beautiful with every turn, every incline, and Alison found out what it meant to leave her worries behind.
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ He paused the bike and they sat for a moment just admiring, and Alison waited for him to take a photo, but he didn’t, he just sat and gazed out and drank it all in.
‘We used to come here for a drive on Sundays,’ Alison said. ‘When we were kids,’ she explained. ‘If we go back a couple of kilometres, there’s a nice picnic spot.’
‘I’ve got it all worked out,’ Nick said, turning the engine back on, and instead of going back they went on, further than she had been, and it felt faster too, but a faster that didn’t unsettle her. She had her cheek pressed into his back, could feel the heat from his body and the blue of the water before her eyes and the wind on her legs and her hair whipping her mouth, and she wanted the road to last for ever.
Nick really had worked it out. He took the bike off the beaten path and he really had found the perfect spot. It was cool and mossy and a thick curtain of trees allowed no glimpse of the ocean, but you could hear the rumble of it in the background as they spread out the blanket and opened up the food.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ Nick admitted, opening up some wine as she scooped out rice onto plastic plates and shared out prawns. ‘How about you?’
‘It wasn’t a great night…’ Alison admitted, but she was reluctant to tell him about her mum, to bog him down with the endless problems, but then he surprised her.
‘I couldn’t sleep without you.’
And she tried not to let her heart leap, because then it would have to fall.
‘I don’t want this to end, Alison.’ His eyes never moved, but his fingers found the knot of her bikini, his long slim fingers at the back of her neck, and she wanted to arch into them, but she just knelt there, felt the slight drop of her breasts as he unravelled the knot.
‘Bet you say that to all your gals…’ She tried to make a joke of it, but it petered out at the end. ‘Here.’ She pushed towards him a plate.
‘I’m not hungry.’
Neither, suddenly, was she.
‘Did you like the bike ride?’
‘No,’ Alison said.
‘Liar.’ Nick smiled, and it had all gone as planned, because that was supposed to be his lead in, something about bikes, he reminded himself, except his fingers had freed another knot now, and his train of thought was diverted as he peeled down her halter like the skin of a grape and saw the lovely plump flesh within, and maybe he was a little hungry after all.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he repeated, but this time with different intent. And to others it might be tame, but to Alison it felt wild—she could feel the cool breeze on her breasts and she liked it, liked it more with each hot kiss he trailed because the breeze cooled her again. There was the hum of flies around neglected food and he kissed her off the blanket and away from them. She liked too the pillow of moss on her bottom as he slid her skirt up and in this, with him, there was no inhibition, and sometimes she wanted to explain, to tell him that this wasn’t her, except in his arms it felt as if it was.
She slid down his zipper, slipped her hands inside and freed him, and such was her want she gave a sob of frustration as his hand slid to his trouser pocket, gritting her teeth and willing him to hurry it on, but it tore, and he cursed in frustration and dug in his pocket again. And she hated them so, with him, she hated them so, especially when they were in his wallet on the blanket, and there was a moment, not even a moment, where she looked in his eyes and there was a Will we? Only they never found out—a screech of brakes filled the warm air and a thud that had them both leaping up.
They were pulling at their clothes and Nick leapt on the bike and Alison did the same. ‘It was that way,’ Alison said, pointing left, and they headed along the cliff. She felt the slight wobble of the bike as his attention was diverted and her heart was already pumping faster before she saw it for herself—the front of a car crumpled into a tree and a man talking into his phone and waving frantically. Nick slowed down, pulling to a halt, and they both jumped off.
‘I missed the bend,’ the guy was shouting as they took off their helmets. ‘I was going too fast, trying to get to the hospital, she suddenly wanted to push…’
It was so far better than it could have been, except Alison’s heart wouldn’t slow down.
‘What’s your name?’ Nick asked as they ran to the car.
‘Richard.’ His wife’s name was Carly and there was already an ambulance on the way, Richard told them.
Nick was assessing the passenger for injuries and apart from being in advanced labour, there appeared to be none.
‘I’m only thirty-five weeks.’
‘That’s okay…’ He was incredibly calm, unlike Alison. ‘Thirty-five weeks is just fine. Alison, there’s a first-aid box on the bike.’ There was, the hire company had made sure of that, but her hands were shaking so much she could hardly open the clip, and in the end it was Nick who came over and waded through it. There wasn’t much, but there were gloves and Nick pulled them on and told her to do the same then he headed back to the car and gave instructions.
‘Alison.’ She was
