Only We Know (25 page)

The front door slammed behind Jessie as she walked out to the deck with her mobile phone clutched in her hand.

‘That went well,' Calla said with a wry smile. Sam could see she was a nervous wreck. The colour had drained from her face and her lips looked so pale they were almost blue.

‘You need a coffee.' Sam walked to the boiling kettle and poured the water out into the mugs. He found milk in the fridge and poured plenty into hers. With a mug in each hand, he came back to the table. ‘Get that into you. It'll warm you up.'

Calla smiled. ‘Don't know if caffeine will do the trick. I think I need wine, and lots of it.' She sipped the coffee and wrapped her fingers around the warm mug. ‘What do you think she's telling him?'

‘Probably something along the lines of “My cousin has arrived with some crazy redhead who claims to be your sister.” She's a no-bullshit kind of gal, our Jessie.'

‘I can tell that already.'

The front door opened and Jessie walked back inside, looking more confused than before. ‘He's on his way. He works at the tourist information centre at Flinders Chase. He won't be long.' Jessie walked to the pram and slowly peeked inside the makeshift curtain. ‘She's still asleep or I'd offer you a cuddle, Auntie Calla.'

The words throbbed inside Calla's head. She was an auntie. And the realisation that she was missing out on so much of her brother's life left her heart feeling that it might shatter right there and then. ‘I'd love a cuddle when she's awake. She's my first niece or nephew.'

‘Oh god. I'm sorry I reacted kind of weirdly just then. It's just that Jeremy hasn't talked about his family very much. He told me his mother died a few years ago and that's about it. And he said he didn't ever know his father.'

Calla sighed. There was a whole lot of family history Sam and Jessie were about to find out.

‘How long have you two been together?' Sam asked.

‘A year and a bit.' Jessie looked sheepish. ‘Yeah, I know. Ella happened by accident — but she's a happy accident.'

‘And what's with living down here in the shack? It's a long way from anything.'

Jessie shrugged. ‘It's close to work for both of us. That's where we met. We moved here properly when I was six months pregnant. Jeremy wanted us to be close when the baby arrived. And we've been doing up the place. It's nice and quiet.'

‘I can see. It was always a bit of a dump, if I remember.'

Jessie laughed. ‘You're not wrong. We love it down here. In summer and in winter.' She grew serious. ‘Jem sounded a little shocked when I told him you were here, Calla.'

‘I expected that. It's been a long time.'

‘There's a story here, isn't there?'

Calla nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘Well, why don't you tell me yours while we're waiting?' Jessie cocked her head at Sam. ‘How long have you two known each other?'

‘Four days?' Sam looked to Calla for confirmation.

‘Five. We were on the same boat coming over,' Calla said. ‘I left my jacket on the deck and—'

‘I found Calla in the supermarket at Penneshaw—'

‘And then I ran into his trolley because I'd lost my glasses—'

‘Then Calla drove her car into the back of me.'

‘And here we are.'

‘Here we are.' Sam was surprised at the urge he felt to reach out for Calla, hold her hand, to claim her as his own. He sipped his coffee instead.

They all turned at the sound of Ella whimpering. Jessie was at her side in a flash and reached down to lift the baby from the pram. When she turned and walked to Calla, rocking Ella in her arms, Calla's heart shifted. She had a niece.

‘You want that cuddle now?'

‘I'd love one.' Calla took the baby in her arms. Ella gurgled and her tiny hands fisted at her mouth. Her little snub nose was perfect. Her full lips murmured and a shadow of dark hair sat like a cap on her head. The baby was swaddled in a blanket and felt warm and real and Calla was indescribably moved to be holding her. ‘She's beautiful,' she murmured, trying to stop the tears.

‘Your niece and my … what exactly is she to me, Jessie?' Sam asked.

‘Second cousin? Cousin once removed? Whatever she is, she'll call you Uncle Sam, if that's all right with you.'

‘I'll take it.'

Calla passed Ella to Sam, who hesitated, but then cradled her gently in his arms. After all, she was his family too. She watched him as he focused on the baby's face, taking in her delicate features one by one. And if she wasn't mistaken, he was getting teary. She knew in an instant why. With Andy gone, he would never have nieces or nephews of his own, never feel the spread of the branches of the family tree as families and children grew. Calla was about to have it with Rose's baby and this little one too, if she would one day be a part of her life. As for Sam, this little girl was the next best thing to nieces and nephews of his own. Or perhaps children of his own.

The front door opened with a scrape on the floor.

Calla, Sam and Jessie looked up.

‘Calla?'

It was Jem.

CHAPTER

32

Jem's boots were loud on the wooden floor as the door slammed behind him, caught by a gust of wind, the same one that had found its way into her lungs and sucked all the breath from them. He stood at the threshold, looking at the two strangers, his face a blank. He reached for his knitted cap and pulled it off, exposing short dark hair and a sun- and wind-worn face. He was wearing a uniform, sand-coloured, and a waterproof jacket that looked thick and padded and warm. He'd filled out; he looked stronger. Would she have recognised him in the street if she'd passed, after all this time? In a heartbeat.

‘Hello, Jem.' Calla got to her feet, but awkwardly, and the chair she was sitting on overbalanced and tipped up behind her. It hit the floor with a wooden clunk. Ella started at the noise and Jessie came over to take her from Sam. He picked up Calla's chair for her. He obviously thought she might need to sit down again, but she was too nervous to.

And she didn't appear to be the only one. Jem glanced at her again before crossing the room to Jessie. He stood next to her, fiddling with his hat. ‘Hi.'

Calla and Sam exchanged glances. The look in Sam's eyes was cautious, protective.

Jem looked at Jessie. ‘How's she been this morning?'

‘Beautiful,' Jessie said quietly and then her eyes drifted back to her cousin. ‘Jeremy. This is my cousin, Sam Hunter. Uncle Charlie's son.'

Jem lifted his gaze from his still-dozing daughter and the warm look in his eyes was shut down as he took in the stranger in his house. He extended a perfunctory hand to Sam. ‘G'day.'

‘Good to meet you,' Sam said.

Jessie looped her arm through Jem's. ‘And I think you know this woman.'

Jem's nervous stare was now trained on Calla. ‘Yeah.'

Was there anything about the old Jem in his eyes? Was there any of the smart, sensitive boy in him still? He was a man now, and a father. Of course he'd changed since they'd last seen each other. She had, too. His jet-black hair was still as dark as night, so different from hers and Rosie's. And the black eyes that had teased her playfully were still the same, although she noticed there was no tease in them now. No affection. Not for her, anyway.

‘Your work is incredible, Jem. I didn't know you were painting.'

‘What's going on, Calla? What are you doing here?' Jem regarded her the way he might a deliveryman with a parcel.

No one else said a word.

Calla felt the pressure building inside her. She took a deep breath, listened to the wind whistling over the roof and the broken screen door slam and rattle over and over in its frame. Calla felt nauseated and the gripping and swirling in her stomach kept words from forming in her head. Jem clearly felt no sudden familial urge to rush to his long-lost sister with outstretched arms. At that moment, she wasn't sure what she would do if he had: hold him or strangle him.

She looked at Sam. There was a look in his eyes that was saying,
Go on. Don't give up. I'm right here.
She took a deep breath. She had come all this way. Sam had convinced her not to waste it.

Calla straightened her shoulders, tried to calm the anger in her throat. ‘I've been looking for you for two years, Jem. Ever since that day. I'm here to talk to you.' She felt pain in her palms and she looked down: she'd been digging her nails in so hard there were half-moon marks there. She unclenched her fists and tried to relax her taut shoulders.

‘Seems you've got a police record,' Jessie said with a frustrated sigh. ‘The speeding ticket?'

Jem looked down at his daughter. ‘Totally worth it,' he said softly.

‘There are things that need to be said, Jem. It's been a long time since we talked.'

He didn't look at Calla.

‘Can we talk? Maybe go outside and go for a walk?'

Jem stood tall and shook his head. When he looked over to Jessie and the baby, Calla understood the message implicitly.
They're my family now.
‘There's nothing more to say, I don't reckon.'

Ella gurgled. Jessie rocked her from side to side and Jem stood firm. He was trying to be a stranger to her, but she knew him. And she recognised what was there in his eyes. There was still pain and humiliation there, a lifetime of hurt that hadn't settled.

‘C'mon, mate. The least you can do is talk.' It was Sam.

Calla had almost forgotten he was there, he'd been so quiet. He'd hung back, let her try to talk this out with Jem. But now he was right there next to her, his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him.
I'll be there.
She felt his fingers tighten on her shoulder.

‘Nothing to say, Calla.'

‘C'mon, Jeremy,' Jessie pleaded.

Calla could feel Sam tense up. ‘She's come a long way to see you, Jem.'

‘Do you want me to say sorry, is that it? I said it, over and over that day. What do you want from me?'

Calla could hear the sharp intake of breath, and could feel the tension coil in the arm around her. ‘Look, Jem. There's something I need to tell you.'

‘Anything you've got to say to me you can say in front of Jessie.'

Sam took his arm from Calla's shoulders, and when she looked up at him he said quietly, ‘You want me to go?' She hesitated, looked at his lovely face. His sincere eyes, the trust she saw in them, the kindness. No, she didn't want him to go. She wanted the comfort of having someone on her side and, right now, he was the best thing going.

She reached up to her shoulder to cover his hand. ‘No, I'd like you to stay. If my brother has no secrets, neither do I.'

Jem turned to her with a glare that cut right through her. ‘That's the thing, isn't it, Calla? I'm not really your brother, am I?'

Now Calla was angry. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Her fingers itched with the need to shake him out of his pity party. ‘You're wrong about that, Jem. You always were and you always will be.'

‘A brother wouldn't do what I did. I didn't mean to hurt you, Calla. I can't keep going over it. That's why I'm here — don't you get it? That family was fucked up. I can't be in it any more.' Jem was whispering, sad and resigned.

She stepped to him and heard her voice crack. ‘We were all upset. Dad had just died, for god's sake.' The tightness hit her throat, strangled her words. Calla shivered. The memories of that day were still in high definition in her head. The secret was right there, waiting to be described out loud for the first time in a long time.

Jem stood his ground. ‘“Dad”? He was never my father.'

‘Jeremy …' Jessie said in an imploring tone, reaching for his arm.

His shoulders slumped. And then all the words Jem hadn't said that day, the questions he'd obviously buried deep, came.

‘Why didn't Mum tell me, Calla, before she died? Why did she wait for him to do it? Why didn't she have the guts to tell me that she'd fucked someone else and got pregnant?'

Calla felt the pain in her chest constrict her breath. ‘I don't know. I didn't know about any of it until the day Rose and I found Dad's will. You've got to believe me.'

‘He blamed me, the bastard. He blamed me for what she'd done. How could he? How could he do that to his own innocent kid? And you and Rose, you were the two little princesses. He loved you and he made it bloody obvious to everyone. It was rubbed in my nose every day, don't you remember?'

Calla was shaking. ‘No, that's not what happened. He was a crappy father to all of us, Jem. Not just you. He should have left — god knows why he stayed. He should have walked away.' She reached for Sam's arm as the tears blurred her vision. Held on to stop from falling to the floor.

Jem wiped his eyes. ‘Go home, Calla. I've moved on. I've got Jessie and Ella now. Go back to your nice life.'

Go back to your nice life.
That's when the surge of anger righted her, put the steel back in her spine and the control in her voice.

‘If that's the way you want it.' Calla's bag was on the table, a slouch of worn leather, and she put her hand inside it to retrieve a piece of paper from her wallet. She unfolded it and held it out to her brother. ‘This is for you.'

Jem looked at it like it was a bomb about to go off. ‘What is it?'

The tension in Calla exploded in her head. All the hurt and anger and pain of Jem and Josh and her life and her fucked-up family swirled around and stabbed her like a million pin pricks. This had to be done. This had to end now.

She stomped a heavy boot on the floor to attract his attention and everyone jumped. ‘Oh, for fuck's sake, Jem. It's what I've come all this way for. Just take the bloody thing and I'll never bother you again.'

Jem cautiously got closer, took the piece of paper from Calla's hand, careful, she noticed, not to touch her. He unfolded it. And then his eyes narrowed. His shoulders straightened and he took a step back from her.