lowered him to the ground, then sat on the sofa. Oscar climbed up next to him.
‘Can we go to the pool tomorrow—can we, please?’
Heath considered his son for a moment. He had his mother’s deep brown eyes and he was the apple of his father’s. There was nothing Heath wouldn’t do for him, but he did like to have fun and tease him a little sometimes.
‘I thought you hated the pool? You distinctly told me the other day that you never, ever wanted to go swimming again. You said that you would rather eat live worms than go to a swimming pool!’
‘Don’t be silly, Daddy. I loooooove the pool!’
Heath picked Oscar up and put him on his lap and held him tightly. ‘Then it looks like tomorrow we’re off to the pool, my little man.’
Phoebe enjoyed a lazy sleep-in the next day. It would end, she knew, when the air-conditioning at the practice was repaired, so she made the most of it. Then she had a quick shower, put on shorts, sandals and a T-shirt, and went out to buy a newspaper. While she enjoyed a light breakfast she planned on reading local stories of interest and about the issues affecting the town she would call home for the near future.
When she arrived home there was a delivery man on her doorstep, holding a medium-sized box, which she signed for and carried into the kitchen.
She discovered it was filled with Christmas gifts. All wrapped in colourful paper and equally pretty ribbons. And every one had her name on it.
She rang her father, but it went to voicemail. ‘Hi, Dad. I know you’re probably busy, but thank you so much for my gifts. By the way, how did you get the presents here the very day after I arrived?’
A few minutes later, as she was putting the presents away in her wardrobe, she received a text message.
I posted them a week before you left. Hope you like them. PS I would have been in trouble if you’d cancelled the trip! Xxx
Although she would miss her family, knowing they were only a call or a text away made her feel less lonely.
After breakfast and a thorough read of the newspaper, in a small cobblestoned patio area that had an outdoor table setting for two under a pergola covered in grape vines, Phoebe felt even more positive about her temporary stay in Australia. She was actually enjoying this time to herself, and she decided after completing the crossword and finishing her freshly squeezed orange juice that Heath’s suggestion of spending some time swimming wouldn’t be so bad.
She could do with some sun. A long, relaxing swim at the beach or in a pool was just what the doctor ordered. With no preference, but also no idea where to go, she looked up some local beaches and public pools on the internet.
The beach, she discovered, would mean a thirty-minute tram trip to Glenelg, or there was a pool about a ten-minute cab ride away in Burnside. She opted for the pool.
Searching in her suitcase, she found her floral bikini, sarong and sunblock. She slipped on the bikini, stepped into her denim shorts and popped a white T-shirt over the top. Then, with a good book, a towel, a wide-brimmed hat and a bottle of water in her beach bag, she called for a cab.
Phoebe had found a perfect spot on the lawn area, adjacent to a huge shade cloth and overlooking the pool. She surmised the sun would get intense later, and she would shift into the shade, but she wanted to enjoy a few minutes of the warm rays and assist her vitamin D intake.
The pool was picturesque, with huge gum trees and parklands surrounding the fenced area. There were quite a few families and some small groups of young mothers with babies enjoying the peaceful ambience of the late morning. Children were laughing and splashing in the crystal water of the wading pool and more serious swimmers were head down, doing lengths of the main pool.
Phoebe had spread out her large blue towel and set up camp. She had spied the fruit in the refrigerator before she’d left home, so she had packed an apple and some strawberries in with her water. Slipping out of her shorts and T-shirt, and putting her hair up atop her head, she strode across the lawn and climbed into the water for a long, relaxing swim.
She was right—it was just what the doctor had ordered. Quite literally.
She lay on her back, lapping the pool slowly and looking up at the stunning blue sky through the filter of her sunglasses. Her worries seemed to dissipate—not completely, but more than she had imagined they would when she had alighted from the plane just a day earlier.
Fifteen minutes later she climbed from the pool and dried herself off with her sun-warmed towel before she spread it out and sat down. With her sarong beside her, in case she needed to cover up, she put on her floppy straw hat, pulled out her book and flipped the lid on her sunblock. She thought of how if she was back in Washington she would be trying to get the ice off her windscreen—instead she was about to cover herself in sunscreen. Perhaps there was justice in the world—or at least a little compensation in the form of sunshine.
She poured a little lotion into her palm and began to rub it over her shoulders.
‘Phoebe?’
Phoebe spun around to see Heath standing so tall he was blocking the sun. His chest was bare and his low-slung black swimming trunks left little to her imagination. Beside him was the cutest little boy, with the same blond tousled hair, dinosaur-patterned swim trunks, and a very cheeky smile. But very different eyes. While Heath’s were the most vivid blue, his son’s huge, twinkling eyes were a stunning deep brown.
‘Hello, Heath,’ she managed, a little shocked to find him in front of her, and a little more shocked by how gorgeous he looked in even less clothing than the day before.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t think you’d actually take my advice about getting some sun and a swim.’
‘It sounded like a good idea,’ she replied, trying not to show how embarrassed she felt in choosing the same outdoor pool as Heath. He had described the city as a large country town, but now she wondered how small Adelaide was to have found them in the same place. ‘And I do need to get some vitamin D.’
As she said it Phoebe realised she was wearing only a string bikini, and suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hadn’t thought twice about it with the other pool guests, as she didn’t know them, but for some reason she felt more exposed in front of Heath. She wanted to reach for her sarong and bring it up to her neck, but realised how silly she would appear.
Heath sensed that Phoebe was feeling awkward in that very brief and very stunning bikini. He had witnessed her discomfiture the previous day, when she had been so intent on tugging her skirt into place. But suddenly his eyes just naturally began to roam her body. Every curve was perfect, he thought, before he quickly slipped on his sunglasses, then turned his attention back to his son. Where it had to stay.
‘Oscar.’ Heath began ruffling the little boy’s hair with his hand. ‘This is Phoebe—she’ll be working with me for the next month, while Grandpa gets better.’
‘Hello, Phoebe,’ the little boy responded. ‘You’re pretty—like Aunty Tilly.’
Phoebe felt herself blush. ‘Thank you, Oscar, that is a very nice thing to say.’
‘It’s the truth,’ he replied. ‘My kindy teacher isn’t as pretty as you, but she can
