Reunited By A Baby Bombshell
‘Yes, and I’m afraid she’s not coming,’ Jane said. ‘It’s such a pity she can’t make it.’
OK. So now he knew without having to ask. Relief and disappointment slugged Griff in equal parts.
‘I’m not at all surprised,’ he said.
‘No, I’m sure Eva’s incredibly busy with her dancing. It’s wonderful how amazingly well she’s done, though, isn’t it?’
‘Yes—amazing.’
‘Anyway, Griff, let me know if you do decide you can come. It should be a fun get-together. Do you have my email address?’
Jane dictated the address while Griff jotted it down. He would leave it a few days before he emailed her. In the meantime, he would swing by Tim’s favourite lunching hangout and let him know he was free to join him and Barney on a nostalgic trip back to their schoolboy haunts. And if he did happen to see Eva again, of course he wouldn’t lose his cool.
* * *
Eva sat beneath the red awning of a pavement café, clutching a cup of blissfully decadent hot chocolate as she watched the rainy Paris streetscape. Beyond the awning’s protection, raindrops danced in little splashes in the gutter. Across the street, the lights of another café glowed, yellow beacons of warmth in the bleak grey day.
Even in the rain Paris looked beautiful but, for the first time in ages, Eva felt like a tourist rather than a resident. She could no longer dance here and everything had changed.
She’d come to Paris to work, to further her career. Until now she’d been a professional with a full and busy life. Her days had a rhythm—limbering and stretching, promotions and interviews, rehearsals and performances.
If she lost all that, what would she do?
She hadn’t felt this low since she’d broken up with Vasily, her Russian boyfriend, who had left her for a lovely blonde dancer from the Netherlands.
Such a dreadful blow that had been.
For eight years, Eva had loved good-looking Vasily Stepanov and his sinfully magnificent body. They had danced together and lived and loved together, and she had looked on him as her partner in every sense. Her dancing had never been more assured, more sensitive. Her life had never been happier.
She’d learned to cook Vasily’s favourite Russian dishes—borsch and blini and potato salad with crunchy pickles, and she’d put up with his outbursts of temper. She’d even taken classes to learn his language, and she’d hoped they would marry, have a baby or two.
Getting over him had been the second hardest lesson of her life—after that other terrible lesson in her distant past. But now the devastating news about her hip was an even worse blow for Eva.
Sipping her rich, thick chocolat chaud, watching car tyres swish past on the shiny wet street, she found herself longing for sunshine and she remembered how easily the sun was taken for granted in Australia. A beat later, she was remembering the beach at Emerald Bay, the smooth curve of sand and the frothy blue and white surf.
And, out of nowhere, came the sudden suggestion that it made perfect sense to go back home to Australia for her surgery.
She could ask for leave from the company. Pierre was already rehearsing a new Clara for The Nutcracker, and the understudy was shaping up well. Eva was, to all intents and purposes, free. She found herself smiling at the prospect of going home.
She would make up some excuse about needing to see her mother. It wasn’t a total lie. It was years since she’d taken extended leave and it was at least two years since she’d been home, and her mum wasn’t getting any younger. If she had the surgery in an Australian city hospital, she’d have a much better chance of flying under the radar than she would here in ballet-mad Paris.
There might even be a chance—just a minuscule chance—that she could come back here to Paris as good as new. She’d been researching on the Internet and had read about a leading dancer in America who was performing again after a hip replacement. The girl was younger than Eva, but still, the story had given her hope.
And, Eva thought, as she drained the last of the creamy rich chocolate, if she was returning to Australia, she might as well go to that school reunion. She’d had an email from Jane Simpson telling her that Griff was undecided so, if she went, she was unlikely to have the ordeal of facing him.
She would love to catch up with everyone else. It felt suddenly important to her to chat with people who lived ‘normal’ lives.
Yes, she decided. She would go.
As soon as this thought was born, Eva was hit by a burst of exhilaration. This was swiftly followed by a shiver of fear when she thought about Griff, but she shook it off.
It was time to be positive and brave about her future. Perhaps it was also time to lay to rest the ghosts of her past.
CHAPTER TWO
THE BAY HAD changed a great deal. Griff and Tim were surprised and impressed by the new suburbs and shopping centres that had sprung up in their home town. The school was almost unrecognisable, with a host of extra buildings, including a big new gymnasium and performing arts centre.
At least the fish and chip shop looked much the same, painted white with a blue trim and with big blue pots spilling with red geraniums. And the natural features of sea, sky and beach were as alluring as ever. Now, though, smart cafés graced the prime spots along the seafront, and there were neatly mown parks with landscaped gardens.
The guys remembered paddocks of prickly bindi-eye weeds that they’d had to run across to get to the beach, but now there were very civilised paved walking paths, and carefully planted vines crawled over the sand dunes to hold them in place.
Nevertheless, the three friends had a great afternoon trying to recapture the fun of their youth, falling off surfboards, getting sunburnt, donning snorkels, goggles and flippers to explore the striped and colourful fish and coral on the inshore reefs that rimmed the headland.
Griff was certainly glad that he’d come. It was refreshing to spend some quality time with friends whose links stretched way back. Despite his high-powered job, or perhaps because of it, he’d lately found himself going to too many dinner parties and concerts with the same snooty circle, rehashing the same old conversations, the same narrow views of politics, the same tired jokes.
Now, as the sun slid towards the west, washing the sky with a bright pink blush that lent gold tints to the sea, the trio returned to their hotel to shower and change for the reunion.
Griff, changed into pale chinos and a white open-necked shirt with long sleeves rolled back to the elbows, checked his phone, half expecting a message from Amanda, even though they’d broken up. He was sure she would be still keeping tabs on him. She’d had plenty to say about his ‘boys’ weekend’.
They’d had another row, of course. He’d accused her of not trusting him. She’d claimed she would trust him if he put a ring on her finger.
In the end, she’d walked out and the next day she’d sent a taxi to collect her belongings.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the first girlfriend to leave in this manner, but his love life was a hassle Griff didn’t want to think about now. After an afternoon of sun, sea and mateship, he was feeling more relaxed than he had in ages. He wanted to keep it that way.
* * *
The trio were crossing the wide stretch of mown lawn in front the Emerald Bay Golf Club when Griff came to a sudden halt, as if he’d slammed into an invisible glass wall.
He’d caught just the merest glimpse of a slim, dark-haired woman on the side balcony overlooking the golf course and he’d known immediately that it was Eva.
Hell, she wasn’t supposed to be here.
But here she was—wearing a sleeveless white dress, and laughing and chatting with a group. Even at a distance, Griff recognised her. No other woman was so slim and toned and poised. No one else had such perfect deportment, was so naturally elegant.
Hell. Now Griff knew he’d been fooling himself. His confidence that he could see Eva again and remain indifferent was shattered.
He was back in the past, remembering it all—helping her to adjust a pair of goggles and then teaching her to skin dive, helping her with her maths homework, dancing with her at the school formal. She’d worn a long silky dress in an aqua colour that exactly matched her eyes, and she’d made him feel like a prince.
He’d been saving for a surfboard, but he’d spent all his carefully hoarded pocket money on Eva’s birthday, buying her an aquamarine pendant on a silver chain.
‘What’s the matter, Griff?’ Barney’s voice intruded his thoughts.
Both Tim and Barney were staring at him.
‘Nothing,’ Griff responded quickly.
The guys frowned at him, then shrugged and walked on. Griff, grim-faced, kept pace with them.
Hell. He gave himself a mental shakedown. Of course he could do this. He was used to hiding his feelings. He did it every day in court. Sure, he could play the role of an old friend, who’d barely given his high school sweetheart a second thought during the past twenty years. Sure, he could grit his teeth and sweat this scene out. For an entire weekend.
* * *
Jane had only warned Eva at the very last minute that Griff was coming. Actually, Jane hadn’t couched the news as a warning. She had passed it on in high excitement, certain that Eva would be totally delighted.
By then, Eva had already arrived in the Bay and was settled into a pleasant motel room with ocean views, so it had been too late to change her mind. Just the same, when Jane shared this news, Eva found it devilish hard to grin and pretend to be pleased.
‘He’s not bringing his girlfriend, though,’ Jane had added.
The existence of a girlfriend was good news at least. The possibility that Griff was still single and at a loose end had bothered Eva for all sorts of ridiculous reasons. Instead, he was safely in a relationship, which meant there were no loose ends.
Great. Their past was a closed door and that was how it would remain.
Eva had told herself she was stupid to fret. After all these years, Griff would have forgotten all about her. There was absolutely no reason he’d still be interested. After she’d left town, he’d studied for years at university and since then he’d been fighting the good fight in the justice system. Griffin Fletcher was a top drawer barrister these days, totally brilliant. Such a lofty and noble pursuit.
No doubt he would look down on a ballerina who spent her days pirouetting and leaping about, and see her as someone fluffy and inconsequential.
At least Eva was used to keeping her emotions under wraps and remaining composed in public, and now, with the reunion well underway, she tried to ignore any stirrings of tension as she chatted with old school friends. Everyone was eager to hear all about her dancing career and her life in Europe, but she tried to keep her story low-key.
She was keen to hear about their lives as accountants and teachers, as nurses and farmers, and she was more than happy to look at their photographs of their adorable kids.
She was exclaiming over a photo of Rose Gardner’s six-month-old identical twins when she heard Jane’s voice lift with excitement.
‘Oh, hi, Barney and Tim. Hi, Griff.’
Griff.
Despite her calming self-talk, Eva’s heart took off like a runaway thief. Unhelpfully, she turned Griff’s way, which wasn’t wise, but the instinct was too powerful to resist.
She thought she was well prepared for her first sight of him, but in a moment she knew that was nonsense. She was trembling like the last leaf on an autumn branch.
There he was. A man who would stand out in any crowd. Probably no taller than before, but certainly broader across the shoulders and chest. Still with the same shaggy brown hair, the same rugged cheekbones, the slightly crooked nose and square, shadowed jaw. The same intelligent grey eyes that missed nothing.
Not quite handsome, Griff Fletcher was undeniably masculine. There were perpendicular grooves down his cheeks that hadn’t been there at eighteen, and he’d lost his easy, boyish smile. Now he had the air of a gladiator about to do battle, and Eva felt as if she might burst into flames.
‘Griff,’ Jane was gushing, ‘how lovely to see you again.’ A beat later, too soon, ‘Isn’t it wonderful that Eva was able to join us after all?’
With a beaming smile, Jane turned to Eva and beckoned. ‘I told Griff that you weren’t coming.’ She giggled, as if this were an enormous joke.
Eva saw the fierce blaze in Griff’s eyes. It wasn’t a glare, exactly, but she got the distinct impression that he would definitely have stayed away if he’d known she would be here.
Thud.
She desperately wanted to flee, but she forced herself to stand her ground and to dredge up a smile. This became easier when she shifted her gaze from Griff to his old schoolmates, Tim and Barney.
Barney had grown round and was losing his hair, but his blue eyes twinkled and his smile was genuine and welcoming. ‘Hey, Eva,’ he said. ‘Great to see you again.’ He clasped her hand and gave her a friendly kiss on her cheek. ‘I’m going to have to get your autograph for my daughter, Sophie. She’s just started to learn ballet.’
‘How lovely. Good for Sophie.’ Eva gave Barney her smiling, super-focused attention. ‘How many children do you have now?’
‘Two and a half. A boy and a girl, with another on the way.’
‘Barney’s working on having enough kids to field a football team,’ commented Tim as he shot his mate a cheeky grin.
Eva laughed. ‘I hope your wife’s in on that plan, Barney.’
Tim gave her a kiss, too. He told her that he worked in a bank and that he and his wife had just one child at this point, a little boy of two called Sam.
All too soon, it was Griff’s turn to greet Eva and the light-hearted atmosphere noticeably chilled, as if someone had flicked a switch. The sudden tension was palpable—in everyone—in Tim and Barney and herself. Eva’s heart was beating so loudly she feared they must hear it.
Griff smiled at her. It was a tilted, lopsided effort, but to the bystanders it probably passed as affable and casual. Eva, however, saw the expression in his eyes. Cold. Unfathomable. Cutting.
‘How are you, Eva?’ He went through the motions, giving her a casual hug and a peck on the cheek.
Ridiculously, her skin flamed at the contact, and she lost her breath as his big hands touched her shoulders, as his arms brushed, warm and solid, against her bare skin. Then his lips delivered a devastating, split-second flash of fire.
She took a moment to recover, to remember that she was supposed to answer his simple question. How are you, Eva?
‘I’m very well, thanks, Griff.’ Thank heavens she was able to speak calmly, but she hadn’t told him the truth. She wasn’t feeling well at all. She felt sick and scared—scared about the secrets she’d never shared with this man, that she’d hoped she would never have to share.
And her hip was agony. She’d foolishly, in a fit of vanity, worn high heels, and now she was paying the price. She prayed that she didn’t blush as Griff’s glittering grey gaze remained concentrated on her.
‘And how are you?’ she remembered to ask.
‘Fighting fit, thank you.’
With the conventions over, an awkward silence fell. Tim and Barney looked at their shoes, and then at each other.
‘We should grab a drink,’ Tim said.
‘Sure,’ Barney agreed with obvious enthusiasm. They both turned to head for the bar, seeming keen to get away. ‘Catch you two later.’
Griff remained still, watching Eva in stony silence and making her feel like one of his guilty criminals in the dock. This time her face flamed and she knew he could see it.
‘You haven’t changed,’ he said quietly.
She shook her head. Of course she’d changed. They’d all changed in so many ways, both on the outside and, undoubtedly, within. But she played the game. ‘Neither have you, Griff. Not really.’
At this, his smile almost reached his eyes.
She wondered if he was about to say something conciliatory. It would be helpful to at least share a few pleasantries to bridge the wide chasm of years. Of silence.
And guilty secrets.
‘I hear you’ve been very successful,’ he said. ‘You’re world-famous now. Congratulations.’
Receiving this praise from Griff, delivered in such a chilling tone, she wanted to cry.
But she swallowed the burning lump in her throat, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘You’ve been very successful, too.’
He responded with the merest nod and only the very faintest trace of a smile. ‘I imagine we’ve both worked hard.’
‘Yes.’
People all around them were chatting and laughing, waving and calling greetings, sharing hugs, enjoying themselves immensely, but Eva couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Griff said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, Eva, I’ll head over to the bar and grab a drink, too.’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m sure we’ll run into each other again during the weekend.’
‘I...I...yes, I’m sure.’
With another nod, he dismissed her. As he moved away, she felt horribly deserted, as if she’d been left alone on a stage with a spotlight shining on her so everyone could see her. She could almost hear the music that accompanied The Dying Swan, the sad notes of a lone cello.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Eva blinked and looked around her. The reunion was gathering steam. The balcony and the large dining room inside the clubhouse were almost full now with chattering, happy people and no one was staring at her.
She drifted, clutching her warming glass of champagne. She looked at the corkboard covered with old photographs. There were class photos, sporting teams, the senior formal, the school camp on Fraser Island. She saw a photo of herself in the netball team, Griff and his mates in striped football jerseys and shorts. Another photo showed her in a ballet tutu and pointe shoes, performing a solo for the school concert.
The old photographs conjured memories—the school disco when she and Griff danced together for the very first time, the dates when he’d taken her to the movies and they’d snogged each other senseless in the popcorn-scented dark, the barbecue for his eighteenth, the bonfire on the beach. And afterwards...
The memories were beyond painful and the urge to cry wouldn’t go away.
‘Would you like something to eat?’
Eva turned. A young girl was offering her a tray laden with canapés.
‘Prosciutto crostini with dried cherries and goats’ cheese,’ the girl said. ‘Or potato cakes with smoked salmon.’
Eva wasn’t hungry, but she took a potato cake. Anything was better than staring miserably at those photos. She even managed to smile at the girl, who was rather interesting-looking, with dark hair cut into a trendy asymmetrical style. She had a silver nose stud as well, and there were purple streaks in the long fringe of hair that hung low, framing one side of her pretty heart-shaped face.
The girl returned Eva’s smile. ‘You might like a napkin.’ She nodded to the small pile on one side of her tray.
‘Thanks,’ Eva said.
The girl was staring at Eva and there was something intriguing, almost familiar, about her clear grey eyes. ‘You’re Eva Hennessey,’ the girl said. ‘The ballet dancer.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
The girl’s eyes widened. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You live in Paris, don’t you? How amazing to meet you.’
Eva smiled, feeling calmer. This was familiar ground. ‘It’s great to be back in Australia,’ she said. ‘Are you from the Bay?’
The girl gave a small laugh that might have been nervous. ‘Kinda. But I’m studying at university in Brisbane now.’ Then she must have realised she was spending too long in one place. ‘Better get going,’ she said, and she hurried away to offer the platter to a nearby group.
Before long, Eva was absorbed into another group of schoolmates and was once again fielding friendly questions or listening to their stories about their old teachers, about their jobs, their kids or their holidays in New Zealand or Bali.
It was easy enough to avoid Griff and she was beginning to relax a little and to enjoy herself once more. If she and Griff kept apart by mutual agreement, the evening might be manageable after all.
* * *
Griff was feeling calmer as he stood in a group by the bar. Half his old rugby league team were gathered there and the guys were having a great old time sharing memories—the game when Tony King broke his leg while scoring a try, or the year they won the regional premiership by a whisker, when Jonno Briggs kicked a freakish field goal.
The whole time, though, Griff was all too aware of Eva’s presence, even though she was at the far end of the room with her back to him. He did his damnedest to stop looking her way, but it was as if he had special radar beaming back sensory messages about her every move.
‘Would you like something to eat, sir?’
A girl arrived, offering canapés.
‘Thanks.’ The savouries looked appetising. Griff smiled. ‘I might take two.’
The girl laughed and there was a flash in her eyes, a tilt to her smile—something that felt uncannily familiar. For a moment longer than was necessary, the girl’s gaze stayed on Griff, almost as if she were studying him. Fine hairs lifted on the back of his neck.
The feeling was unsettling and he might have said something, but then she turned and began serving the others. She didn’t look Griff’s way again and he decided he must have been more on edge about the whole Eva business than he’d realised.
He would be glad when this night was over.
* * *
Dinner was about to be served and everyone settled at long tables. Eva sat with some old girlfriends and their husbands. Griff was two tables away, almost out of sight, and she did her best to stop her gaze from stealing in his direction. She was relatively successful, but twice he caught her sending a furtive glance his way. Both times he looked angry and she felt her cheeks heat brightly.
‘Are you all right, Eva?’ asked Jane, who was sitting opposite her.
‘Yes, of course.’ Eva knew she must look flushed and she reached for her water glass. ‘Just feeling the heat.’
Jane nodded sympathetically. ‘It must be hard for you, coming back from a lovely cool autumn in Europe to the start of a sweltering summer in Queensland.’
‘Yes,’ Eva said. ‘You tend to forget about the heat and just remember the lovely sunshine.’
Others around her nodded in agreement or laughed politely.
As they finished their main course, speeches were made. Jonno Briggs, who’d gone on after school to become a professional footballer, told a funny story about running into Barney in a pub in Glasgow. Jane gave a touching speech about one of their classmates who had died.
There were tributes to a couple of their old teachers who had also returned for the reunion. Then someone decided to point out their most successful classmates and Eva, among others, was asked to stand. As she did so, somewhat reluctantly, there was a burst of loud applause.
‘Give us a pirouette, Eva!’ called Barney.
She winced inwardly, remembering the way she’d liked to show off when she was still at school. So many times she’d performed arabesques and grand jetés on the beach.
‘I couldn’t possibly,’ she told them now.
‘Oh, come on!’ called a jocular fellow at the back.
‘Sorry. My dress is too tight.’
This was accepted with good-natured laughter.
At least she didn’t have to mention the flaring pain in her hip. She would prefer no one knew about that.
The desserts arrived. Eva was served by the girl with the purple-streaked hair who had chatted to her earlier. She gave Eva an especially bright smile and a sly wink, as if they were great mates.
Eva usually avoided desserts and she only ate half of her crème brulée. With the speeches over, people were rising from their seats and starting to mingle again. There was self-serve coffee at one end of the bar and Eva crossed the room to collect a cup.