CHAPTER TEN
‘HARRY...’
Sienna’s sweet voice broke through the clouds in his head.
Timing was everything, apparently. He could’ve checked the mailbox ten minutes ago, instead of sitting staring at his feet thinking of what might’ve been with Sienna if he had the guts to give it a go. He could’ve prepped the steak he’d bought for dinner before he came out here. By then surely she’d have gone inside. ‘Hey, there. How’s things?’ His hands gripped his hips. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, more that he already knew the pain that would follow as he watched her walk back up to her apartment alone.
Sienna swung around the end of her drive, a large smile splitting her face. ‘You’ve got to see this.’
He did? What was so important she wanted him to take a look? It could be her report card from primary school and he’d willingly read it. ‘What’ve you got?’
‘My very own pilot’s logbook.’ She skidded to a halt in front of him and opened to the first page. ‘See, those are my hours, and that shows what the lesson was about, and that’s the type of plane.’
‘Whoa, that’s awesome. You’ve done one-hour-five in total over two days?’
‘The lessons are intense and, therefore, not very long at first. But, Harry, it was fantastic. I’m learning climbing and descending.’ Her hand rose and fell in gentle waves. ‘Tomorrow I’m starting on turns.’
‘Who’d have thought you could get so excited about making a turn?’ His laugh was low and a little sad. Had she been excited when she did an about-face on him?
‘I know.’ She snapped the book shut. ‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away.’ Stepping away, she drew her shoulders back, determination now covering her beautiful face. ‘How’re things with you?’ Determined to be polite, not excited and happy?
That hurt. He didn’t deserve it. They had both agreed to a fling, not for ever after. He just hadn’t been ready for the finish, was all. Was still getting used to it. ‘I’ve left a chilly bin by your back door with some fish fillets on ice. You might want to eat them tonight or put them in the freezer.’ He began to walk away, unable to stand there and not haul her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of them both. Yeah, he still wanted her. And that was something that had never happened before, not in a long time at any rate.
‘Thanks.’ Then, ‘Harry, are you all right? Why aren’t you at work?’ She sounded concerned.
Unfortunately he couldn’t use it to his advantage. ‘I’m fine. Got today and tomorrow off as I’m working the weekend.’
‘I’m glad nothing’s wrong.’
Oh, believe me, plenty’s wrong.
How to fix it was another story. He stomped up the drive and inside to unpack groceries, open every window in the place, hang out the washing. Oil and season the steak. Mundane, meant to distract the picture of Sienna seared at the front of his brain, and not working. Now what? He’d been on the go since six and it was only ten and he didn’t know how to fill in the rest of the day. This was when living in a town where he didn’t know anyone other than colleagues sucked. No one to ring and say ‘Want to go for a run, or a beer, or a game of squash?’ At least returning to Melbourne would change that, if nothing else.
No point looking over the fence. Sienna had gone out again, probably headed to the aero club and another lesson that got her all wound up in a ball of barely contained excitement. He’d never seen her so happy. Or maybe he had when they made love, or when she’d caught her first fish the other day. Long may it last. She deserved it. If only he could find the tenacity to hang around and share her happiness. Harry shivered. This wasn’t about doggedness. It was about risk-taking, and where his heart was concerned that wasn’t happening.
So he needed to find something to fill in his time.
The lawns could do with a cut. He got a sweat up fast in the heat. It felt good, worked some of the hurt out of his system. Hurt he shouldn’t be feeling. They’d had a fling, and now Sienna had beat him to pulling the plug. If he’d done it. The weekend in Coromandel had shown him another side to Sienna, and to himself. It had woken up those old dreams of love and family and settling in one place.
His legs ate up the lawn as he raced round and round. The middle came way too fast. He needed to expend more energy. Sienna’s lawns could do with a cut. She wouldn’t thank him. Too bad. He didn’t need thanks. Just a kiss.
No, not a kiss, you idiot.
She could ignore him for all he cared. But he would mow the lawn for her.
Round and round and round until he reached the centre.
She’d go ape—no straight lines to be seen, but there was nothing she could do about it, just as there was nothing he could do about her calling off their fling before he was ready.
Now he’d earned a beer. But who to call? Everyone was at work. Except his neighbour, and he was not calling her. Grabbing a glass of icy water, he went to find his laptop and cruised the medical sites for jobs that didn’t involve Melbourne, and his parents, and all the things he’d spent years avoiding. More importantly, he had to find one that wasn’t in Auckland, because he needed to avoid Sienna more than anything. She’d pressed some buttons, kick starting emotions that he didn’t want to admit to. So he’d go for broke and do his usual—he’d move on.
* * *
On Wednesday afternoon Sienna indicated to turn into her driveway but the old man in the wheelchair kept on going right into her path. ‘Watch out.’
Clunk. The wheelchair bounced off her bumper, teetered on one wheel before banging down on the other and rolling on down the road.
‘What?’ She quickly pulled into her driveway and hauled the brake on before leaping out and running after the man.
He was out of control and heading into the path of another oncoming car. ‘Stop,’ she shouted. ‘Look out.’
The driver of the car couldn’t hear her with her windows closed, and if the old man had he didn’t understand or was incapable of acting on it. She ran, her breath stuck in her throat as she waited for the inevitable, and hoped impact wouldn’t be too nasty.
It was worse. The chair slammed square on the front grill and the man was tossed out and under the engine.
The car wheels squealed as brakes were applied, then the driver screamed. ‘What happened? Where did you come from?’
Sienna reached them. ‘Turn off the motor while I check out how the man’s situated under there.’
‘Shouldn’t I back off?’
‘No,’ she all but shouted. ‘The gentleman might be caught on a part of your car and we don’t want you dragging him along the road.’
The woman blanched. ‘Just as well you’re thinking straight. I’d have injured him even more.’
Deep breath as she kneeled down. ‘It’s all right. We’ve got this.’
‘Is he caught in the wheelchair?’ came a familiar voice.
‘He’s strapped in,’ she told Harrison as she took in the odd angle of the man’s arm and the blood pouring from the side of his head. And the lax mouth. ‘I wonder if he had a medical event. He wasn’t controlling the wheelchair at all.’
‘I heard a bang and came rushing out to see what had happened.’ Harry lowered onto his stomach and pushed forward, his head disappearing under the car, still talking. ‘Did he hit your car first?’
‘Bounced off the bumper.’ She squatted beside Harry and looked at how to disentangle their man. ‘This isn’t going to be easy.’
Wriggling out, Harry stood up and pulled his phone out. ‘I’ll call 111 and then get my medical bag. Do you have one in your apartment?’
Shaking her head, she admitted, ‘Only the basic bandages and creams.’
‘Our man needs a lot more than that.’ Harry rattled off details and the address to the emergency service.
Sienna straightened up. ‘I’ll get your gear. Emergencies are more your strength.’ She could do what was required, but why not give the old man the best chance they had available and right now that was Harrison?
‘See if there’s a crowbar in the garage, would you? I’d like to shift this bumper off his chest if I can.’
‘On my way.’ Ducking inside the apartment, she retrieved the medical kit before heading into the garage to search through the biggest collection of tools she’d ever encountered. Everything but a crowbar. Would a hammer be large enough? Snatching the largest one, she spun around to head outside and stopped. A crowbar hung from a nail on the far wall, half-hidden by a raincoat. ‘Yeah.’
Back beside Harry she opened the kit so he could get at anything he needed. Then she began checking over the man’s legs, searching for broken bones.