A Child In Need

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘MESSED up your love life, have you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Gowned and groomed-if you didn’t count his non-smoothed hair-Nick was ready for his Monday morning list. So was Mary.

‘You’re glowering like you’ve just learned you’re having no holidays for a year-and our Shanni’s looking the same.’

‘What Shanni does is nothing to do with me.’

‘Funny.’ Mary tossed him an impudent grin. ‘That’s what Shanni says about you. We’ll just have to see what happens.’

‘Mary…’

‘Hmm?’

‘Put a sock in it,’ he said dourly. And then he stared at his court list. ‘Mary, why does it say Bart Commin is appearing first up? I thought I sentenced him to ten days…’

‘We’re appealing,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Rob organised it. Emma’s going nuts.’

‘How can it be an appeal when he’s not being represented?’

‘Rob’s representing him.’

‘A policeman,’ Nick said carefully, ‘cannot lodge an appeal.’

‘Where does it say that?’ Mary demanded, and Nick stared.

‘I…’

‘They often do,’ she told him kindly-clerk of courts dispensing wise legal advice to magistrate. ‘Surely you know that. The state has the right to appeal if they believe the sentence is too lenient. So we figured, what if the sentence is too tough? What’s the difference?’

‘Mary…’

‘Which it is,’ she told him sternly. ‘Bart’s screaming the place down. Shivering, sobbing-the works. If you let him out then old Doc Harris will pop him in hospital for a couple of days; he’ll sort him out and we’ll all be happy.’

‘I’ll organise him to be shifted to hospital while he serves his time.’

‘Not here you can’t, Your Worship,’ she said primly. ‘Not while he’s supposed to be in jail. Bay Beach has a country bush hospital with no secure wards. He’d have to go to the Warrbook hospital, and he’d hate it.’

‘Oh, great. So now we’re into personal preferences.’ Nick raked his hair in exasperation. ‘Mary, he’s a prisoner. He’s a convicted thief with a record longer than your arm.’

‘He’s stolen nothing but beans-and he’s a nice old man.’ Mary’s voice was reproachful. ‘He might be a drunk but we all like him. Go on, Nick. Have a heart.’

So fifteen minutes later Nick found himself reducing Bart’s sentence by six days-and he found himself wondering just how much more heart was required in this job. And how much more he had to give.

Harry required heart.

All day Monday Harry stayed in his mind, niggling like a bad conscience. And all day Tuesday.

Shanni was in his mind too-but there was nothing he could do about Shanni, he told himself savagely. Shanni didn’t need him.

And he couldn’t even begin to think that he might need her.

No. Concentrate on Harry. Leave Shanni to her queues of suitors… He had to concentrate on Harry.

Tuesday night he walked over to the home and almost knocked on the door-and then he walked away. He did a few miles of jogging on the beach, came back, stared at the darkened children’s home, swore at himself and then went back to his apartment above the courthouse. And thought…

Shanni. Harry. Shanni…

Harry! Wednesday night he returned, and this time he knocked. It was too hard not to.

‘Nick.’ Wendy met him at the door, her face wary. There were two little girls in the hall, playing with dolls. Wendy half opened the door but she didn’t invite him in. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I came to see Harry.’

‘Have you, now?’ There was caution in her voice-not the open friendliness she’d shown him last week.

What had Shanni said to her?

But Shanni, it seemed, hadn’t said a word. The wariness was all Wendy’s.

‘Harry had a lovely day on Sunday, Nick,’ she said. ‘Just wonderful. But then…on Monday he sort of thought you’d come. Shanni didn’t know if you would, I wasn’t sure, so I rang the courthouse. Mary said she’d have you ring back. Didn’t you get my message?’

Yeah. He’d got the message. It had taken him up until now to figure out what he wanted to say.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Harry doesn’t mind you not coming so much,’ Wendy said. ‘Well, to be honest, he does mind, but he can cope. What he can’t cope with is not knowing where he stands with you. Whether he has a friend or not.’

And there it was. If he committed now he’d be committing totally. This wasn’t like a relationship with an adult that he could explain away at some time in the future.

Not like his relationship with Shanni…

For heaven’s sake. Think of Harry. Harry! There was no way he could back out now.

‘Can I talk to you?’ he said.

‘I’m here to be talked to,’ Wendy said. She held the door open a little wider but still she didn’t invite him in. ‘Harry’s in the kitchen. Talk here.’

You need to make a decision before you go one step further, her voice warned him, and he nodded.

‘Wendy, I’m not talking about taking Harry on long-term or anything,’ he warned. ‘I can’t adopt him or foster him.’

‘No one’s asking you to do that.’ Her eyes were still wary, and she was reading his eyes. ‘Harry isn’t asking that. He expects nothing of the world. But he needs a friend. Desperately. A friend who’s constant-who says I’ll see you once a week and who doesn’t break that promise unless there’s a darned good reason and Harry knows what that reason is.’

‘Once a week…’

‘Any less than that and it’s not worth it,’ she said bluntly. ‘He’s just a baby, and he’s too little to remember. So, yes. Once a week or nothing.’

Nick took a deep breath.

And took the plunge.

‘I can do that.’

There. It was said. The commitment made him take a step back. He’d never made such a promise in his life. But…it wasn’t such a bad feeling.

Except it scared him half to death. And Wendy saw.

‘Did you ever have any decent relationships with anyone?’ she asked gently. ‘When you were little?’

‘I…no.’

She shook her head, and the wariness was gone. There was only gentleness and caring left. ‘Then, praise be,’ she said softly, ‘it seems Bay Beach has itself quite a magistrate. If you can get over that…’

‘Hey, I don’t…’

‘You already have,’ she said warmly, and threw the door wide. ‘Tonight you’ve taken the first step. Let’s see where we go from here.’

He still had to go to Melbourne for the weekend. It wasn’t just ties, he thought dryly. He’d only brought necessities, thinking he’d be back and forth all the time, so he needed to go.

But when he told Wendy and Harry that…

‘I like Melbourne,’ Harry said, sitting up at the kitchen table eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream and trying not to look as if he’d been given the world because his Nick had come to visit. Because his Nick was eating chocolate ice cream beside him. ‘Me and Daddy went to Melbourne every weekend.’

‘Did you?’ It was impossible for Nick not to hear the hint in the little boy’s voice. The longing…

And for a whole five seconds he stayed strong. But Wendy was watching him. Daring him. Wendy who was Shanni’s friend, and Nick knew what Shanni would expect him to do.

Harry was watching, too, with eyes that said he expected nothing.

It was too much. A tougher man than him would break under this pressure.

‘Would you like to come?’

‘Yes,’ Harry said, so promptly that Nick nearly choked on his ice cream. For heaven’s sake, what had he done?

But it was too late to draw back now.

‘I’ll pick you up on Friday after work,’ he said, casting a desperate look at Wendy. She grinned.

‘See-doesn’t hurt at all.’

‘I don’t know how to care for him-look after his leg…’

‘I’ll write you a list of instructions,’ she said blithely. ‘But kid-care’s a doddle. Easy as falling off a log. I’ll even organise a booster seat for the car.’

But there was one more problem and it wasn’t Nick’s. ‘I…I don’t want to go in the car,’ Harry said, and his voice was suddenly desperately anxious. He even stopped ice-cream-eating. Wendy sighed, scooped him up and placed him on her knee. She understood this fear.

‘Harry, you and your daddy had a terrible car crash but that was a really unlucky time. It’s not going to happen again.’

But Harry was torn. Nick could see it. He desperately wanted to go to Melbourne-with his Nick-but hours in a car with all of his dreadful memories was almost too much to face.

Okay, then. In for a penny… ‘We’ll take the train,’ Nick said.

Wendy almost dropped Harry. ‘You’re joking.’

‘I never joke,’ Nick said heavily. ‘More’s the pity. We’ll catch the evening train on Friday. Will you be ready, Harry?’

‘Yes,’ he said joyfully, and he wriggled off Wendy’s lap and burrowed his face into his ice cream as if it was champagne.

What had he done?

He couldn’t believe he’d offered. For the next couple of days Nick worked in a stunned stupor. Taking a tiny child to Melbourne… Giving up his car for the weekend…

His friends would die laughing.

They wouldn’t see, he decided. He couldn’t take Harry to his usual haunts.

Where would he take him?

‘You’re quiet,’ Mary said, as she gave him his Friday court list. Heaven knew whether she’d heard of his weekend plans. Probably not, he decided. She’d have said something. But it was unlike this town to keep things quiet. For Wendy not to talk…

Mary was waiting for an answer and he had to dredge one from somewhere. ‘It’s just…I’m looking forward to a weekend away.’

‘I’ll bet you are,’ she said softly, and her eyes held a look he didn’t understand in the least.

He was running late. Since when did court cases ever run to time? he thought bitterly, grabbing his overnight bag and heading for the station with speed. He had minutes before the train left. Please let Wendy have Harry on the platform.

She did, and she had tickets in her hand as well. Bless her. The whistle blew as she handed over tickets, Harry’s overnight bag-and Harry.

‘Have fun, boys,’ she called as they disappeared into their carriage. And then she grinned.

‘And have fun, Shanni,’ she added, and she walked away with her fingers crossed.

Car three, compartment five…

The train jolted into motion; Harry clung onto Nick’s hand like grim death and they made their way carefully down the corridor as Nick checked seat allocation.

‘I wonder if we have the compartment to ourselves,’ Nick said, and then he stopped.

He was at the right door, but there was already a passenger in the compartment.

It was Shanni.

For all of ten seconds they stared at each other, shocked into immobility. In the end it was Harry who broke the silence. His smile, unused for so long, now threatened to split his face.

‘Are you coming to Melbourne with us?’ he asked her, deeply pleased.

‘I am, but…’ Nick saw she was as flabbergasted as he was. ‘Are you going on the train to Melbourne, too?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry firmly, hitching himself up on to the seat beside Shanni and wriggling his small backside deep into the leather. ‘I am. Me and Nick.’

‘Why,’ she asked carefully, looking at Harry and not at Nick, ‘are you not driving to Melbourne in Nick’s car?’

‘I don’t like cars,’ Harry said.

Silence while she chewed that one over. Nick put the baggage up in the racks and tried to think of something to say. Anything.

She was as stuck for words as he was, and when she finally spoke her voice was loaded with bitterness. ‘I think,’ Shanni said carefully, ‘that I’ve been set up.’

‘Not by me,’ he told her, and sat down opposite. Nick’s voice sounded angry, and Harry looked at him in surprise. Unnoticed, the train gathered speed and Bay Beach faded into the distance behind them.

‘I guess I could always get off at the next stop.’ Shanni looked as if she’d like to jump off right now.

Great. But… Nick bit his lip and looked at Harry’s drooping face. He’d looked so pleased! ‘Why are you going to Melbourne?’ he enquired at last.

‘To visit my Aunt Adele. She’s ill, and my mother’s worried.’

‘I see.’

‘Except now…’ She was deep in thought, not seeing him, and she was almost talking to herself. ‘My family have been odd. Mary’s been telling me how worried Mum was about Adele, and Mum was sort of agreeing-only not saying much-and then when I said I’d phone Adele, Rob said Emma phoned her this morning and she was miserable. Then Mary offered to buy me a train ticket. As the family contribution…’

‘You think they’ve set this up?’ Nick said. He couldn’t see any other reason behind this, and he wouldn’t put it past Mary for a minute.

‘I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.’ Shanni’s anger matched his. ‘John came around last night and Louise told him-right in my hearing-that he wasn’t welcome and I was in love with you! He drove off before I could reach him. I ask you. In love with…you!’

She said you as if he was some sort of dung-beetle-and, despite his annoyance, Nick had to grin.

‘Which is ridiculous,’ he said politely.

‘Which is ridiculous,’ she said, and glowered.

‘So what do we do?’

‘We’re all going to Melbourne,’ Harry said, pleased again now Shanni had stopped talking of getting off. ‘You and me and Nick.’

‘I imagine we can put up with each other for the journey,’ Nick said politely. ‘You never know, your aunt might be sick.

‘She might not be.’ Shanni sighed, anger giving way to exasperation. ‘I guess I can shop.’

‘Will you shop with me?’ Harry asked anxiously, and Shanni managed a smile.

‘Hey, you and I shopped last Saturday. You haven’t worn those clothes out yet?’

‘No, but…’

‘You and Nick are having a boys’ weekend,’ she told him. ‘You don’t need a lady.’

‘You’re not a lady,’ he told her. ‘You’re you.’

‘That sounds the very nicest thing anyone has ever said about me,’ she told him, still smiling. ‘But flattery will get you nowhere, Harry, my lad. It’s a boys’ weekend and I don’t need anything to do with it.’

Which meant, as the train arrived at Melbourne, Harry and Nick prepared to bid Shanni farewell. Or Nick prepared to. Harry had other ideas.

‘Where does your aunty live?’ Harry demanded.

‘Brighton.’

‘Is that close to where we’re going?’ This was one bright kid-and he was certainly persistent.

Nick nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes. We’re going to St Kilda, which is on the way to Brighton.’ Then, because it was the only polite thing to say, he added a rider. ‘Would you like to share a cab?’

‘That would be nice,’ Shanni said, smiling at Harry but eyeing Nick with reservations. ‘And then separate directions. Right?’

‘Right.’

Only, once in the cab, Harry started to talk. He’d been his usual silent self on the train journey, but now he seemed to sense there was some urgency about proceedings.

‘What will you and your aunty do for the weekend?’ he asked Shanni.

‘If my aunty’s sick then I’ll look after her. What are you boys going to do?’

Nick shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. We’ll think of something.’

‘Will you meet us for just a little bit?’ Harry said, and suddenly there was the faintest tremor in his voice. He looked uncertainly at Nick, and his look said he’d suddenly remembered he didn’t know this man very well. For all he knew, Nick could be planning a weekend doing very boring grown-up things-and Miss McDonald was fun.

‘I…’ Shanni wasn’t sure what her response should be. She’d heard the tremor.

‘Come shopping with us,’ Harry urged.

She glanced at Nick-and then glanced away again. ‘I may not be able to.’

And Nick sighed. He knew when he was being bulldozed, and he was being bulldozed now. It would make Harry feel more secure if he knew he’d see Shanni again, so there was no choice.

‘I’ll take Harry to one of the cake shops in Acland Street tomorrow morning,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Join us for coffee. If your aunt can spare you…’

‘Or if I can spare my aunt,’ she said-and looked at Harry. ‘Okay, Harry. I make no promises, but you just might see me tomorrow morning.’

There was no time for more. The taxi pulled up outside the address Nick had given, and she gazed up in stunned silence. Nick’s apartment was in a three storeyed block right on the esplanade overlooking the ocean. She didn’t need to see any closer to figure this place had cost him a mint.

No wonder he hadn’t been too impressed with his sea view at Bay Beach. He had his own sea view here, surrounded by city comforts.

‘Wow!’ said Harry.

‘Double wow,’ said Shanni. St Kilda was only ten minutes from the city and her aunt’s place at Brighton was further out. It had made sense, therefore, for the taxi to drop Nick and Harry off first. So now she knew where he lived-and his obvious wealth didn’t make getting to know the man any easier. They had even less in common than she’d thought.

He was a lawyer and a magistrate and he was wealthy. He was a man alone… A man completely out of her ken. She watched in silence as Nick handed payment to the taxi driver-and then frowned as he demurred at the change.

‘No. The lady’s fare is on me.’

‘Nick, you don’t need to…’ she started, but he allowed no protest.

‘It’ll make me feel better to make sure you’re safely home.’

Or…safely away from you, Shanni thought bleakly as the taxi did a U-turn and drove away from man and child. Leaving you to your precious independence.

But…why on earth did the thought make her feel so bleak?

It wasn’t only Shanni who was questioning feelings. Nick might have his independence-sort of-but independence wasn’t something that sat well with three-year-olds.

He showed Harry into the spare room. Harry looked at the enormous bed and his eyes stayed blank in a look Nick was starting to know. It was his withdrawal look.

‘It’s a great big bed,’ Nick said cheerfully. He’d fitted his spare room with a double bed because most of his friends were partnered-spasmodically. ‘You can sleep in the middle and wiggle all you want.

‘Where do you sleep?’ Harry asked in a subdued little voice that told Nick he was in even more trouble than he’d thought.

‘Next door. Want to see?’

He did, so Nick led the way, opened the bedroom door and heard Harry gasp.

‘Do you sleep in that bed all by yourself?’

‘Yep.’ Well, most of the time, anyway, and he wasn’t going into that with a three-year-old.

‘It’s…it’s ginormous.’

‘It is.’ Nick smiled and led the little boy forward. ‘It’s called a king-sized bed. Actually,’ he admitted, ‘it’s two beds. It’s so big I couldn’t get it up the stairs in one piece, so I brought two single beds and joined them together. See?’ He lifted the covers, Harry dropped down on the plush pile carpet and inspected eight legs.

‘It is two beds,’ he agreed. ‘Why do you sleep in two beds?’

‘I…I like room to wiggle.’

‘If we pulled them apart then we could have a little bed each in the same room,’ Harry said wistfully-and waited. His eyes were still blank-as if he was afraid to hope.

That hadn’t been in the plan. Sleep in the same room as Harry!

But Harry was looking at him with dreadful eyes-eyes that told him the thought of sleeping in a huge bed in a bedroom all by himself held nothing but terror. Oh, great… Big choice here!

So… ‘I guess we can,’ Nick agreed faintly, and watched the blank look fade.

‘You’d like that,’ Harry told him, and his eyes dared Nick to agree. ‘We could talk in bed.’

‘So we could.’ He hadn’t thought of that, either.

‘Wendy says I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. Do you go to bed at eight o’clock?’

There was nothing for it. Nick nodded with all due solemnity. ‘Not usually,’ he said truthfully. ‘But this weekend I just might.’

He did. In the end it was easier, because Harry couldn’t settle. He lay and stared at the ceiling while Nick read him a story, and when Nick finished reading his eyes were just as firmly open as when he’d started. When Nick tried to leave the room he said nothing-just stayed staring up at the ceiling with a fixed expression of stoicism.

He’d been here before, the expression said. Strange place. Strange people. Strange shadows.

Familiar fear…

And Nick, who remembered the feeling as if it were yesterday, couldn’t bear it.

‘I am tired,’ he told Harry. ‘I think I’ll come to bed, too.’

‘That’d be okay,’ Harry said, still stoical. He was so careful not to let his eagerness show, in case this wonderful offer should be snatched away again.

So Nick slid between the covers of his now single bed and stared at the ceiling himself in the half-light-for heaven’s sake, at eight it was hardly dark.

And, while Harry drifted firmly into sleep, Nick wondered what Shanni was doing.

And wondered and wondered and wondered.