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His spirits sank lower when no one answered his knock.
A neighbour leaned out of a grimy window to stare at him. He walked over to her. ‘I’m looking for Jess Cassidy.’
The young woman blew cigarette smoke. ‘She’s at work.’
‘Where does she work?’
‘No idea.’ She narrowed her eyes at Reece, showing her distrust of him and making it patently clear that she wouldn’t tell him even if she knew. ‘She’s gone most weekdays, though.’
‘Thank you,’ he said with excessive politeness, but as he walked away his worries about Jess multiplied.
Why was she working nearly every day? And where was Rosie? When Jess had written that she was ‘managing OK’, he’d wondered if perhaps she had to be frugal, but he’d still pictured her at home with her baby, living comfortably, if carefully, on her husband’s insurance money.
Of course, Jess’s living conditions were none of his business. Truth was, he hardly knew Jess Cassidy, and yet he’d been present at an intensely personal, pivotal moment in her life. They’d been through an emotionally charged ordeal together, and when Rosie was born they’d shared an exhilarating triumph. He’d felt connected.
Four months later, he still felt connected. It was a big deal for a man with precious few connections.
When he came back at six-thirty he saw, to his relief, that a light was on in Jess’s flat. He could hear music playing a soothing, bluesy tune, and tempting cooking aromas wafted through an open window.
The tension inside him loosened a notch. Seemed Jess was all right, after all.
When he knocked, the door opened slowly and Jess stood before him with Rosie balanced on her hip. He was conscious of her slim, pale arms wrapped around the baby. She was wearing faded jeans and a soft pink T-shirt, and her dark hair was twisted into a loose knot. She was definitely thinner than before and she looked tired. On the other hand, her daughter looked plump and thriving.
At first, Jess’s expression was guarded, almost defensive, but then she recognised him and her mouth formed an O of surprise.
‘Hello, Jess.’
Rosie cooed at him and Jess smiled cautiously.
‘I was in town,’ Reece explained. ‘I had to bring my father to the hospital for tests. He’s being kept in overnight and I thought I’d drop by, to say hello.’
‘It good to see you.’ Jess hitched the baby a little higher. ‘I hope your dad’s going to be all right.’
‘Thanks. It’s hard to say at this stage.’ Reece was holding a bunch of flowers wrapped in lavender tissue, but he felt suddenly uncertain about the appropriateness of bringing flowers. They had looked so bright and appealing, sitting in a bucket on the footpath, but now he wondered if Jess would think he was trying to be romantic.
‘Rosie looks well,’ he said, proffering, instead, the brightly wrapped gift he’d bought for the baby. ‘I thought she might like this.’
‘Reece, you’ve already been so kind.’ With an embarrassed, almost wincing smile, Jess stepped back. ‘You’d better come in.’
It wasn’t the most welcoming invitation, but he went in, anyway. The flat was small and simply furnished with a tiny, rudimentary kitchen, a small table, two chairs and a single blue sofa. A door led to what he assumed was a bedroom. Everything was very clean.
‘Take a seat.’ Jess pointed to the sofa.
Uncertain what to do with the flowers, Reece set them on the table and sat at one end of the couch while Jess sat at the other end with Rosie, balancing the baby and the gift in her lap.
‘Look what Reece has brought for you,’ she said in a deliberately cheery voice, and the baby’s hands swiped and patted at the wrapping paper as Jess peeled it away.
‘Oh, wow!’ she exclaimed as the brightly coloured toy was revealed.
‘I’m told it’s a chime garden,’ Reece said and almost immediately Rosie banged a bright purple flower and was rewarded by a few tinkling bars of a nursery rhyme.
The baby grinned, and banged another flower, releasing more music, and Jess’s face broke into a lovely smile. ‘How clever. It’s absolutely gorgeous, Reece. And the perfect toy for her age.’
Her green eyes sparkled—yes, her eyes were definitely green—and Reece realised that this was why he’d come: to reassure himself that she hadn’t forgotten how to smile. She looked so heart-stoppingly pretty when her eyes lit up.
There was an awkward silence as they sat a metre apart and watched Rosie play with her new toy.
‘How have you been, Jess?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ She tweaked a curl on her baby’s head. ‘Honestly. I hope you haven’t been worrying about me.’
‘No, not at all.’
Another awkward silence.
‘Where are you staying?’ Jess asked. ‘Do you have friends in Cairns?’
‘Not really. I’m booked into a pub down on the waterfront.’
‘Nice.’
‘Yes, it’s fine. Close to the hospital.’
Rosie grabbed at her mother’s nose and squealed with glee. Jess laughed, and then, suddenly, she asked, ‘Would you like to stay for dinner?’
‘No, no. I just dropped in for a quick hello. I don’t want to impose on you.’
‘I’ve made a chicken casserole.’ Before he could answer, she hurried on. ‘You must allow me to feed you, Reece, after everything you’ve done for me.’
He remembered her letters. I owe you so much. One day, I promise I’ll repay you.
‘Your cooking certainly smells very good,’ he said.
‘That’s settled, then. It’s all ready.’ Jess smiled again and then she stood and set the baby down on a rug on the floor, putting the chime garden beside her, as well as the teddy bear he’d sent and a rattle. But as soon as she was down Rosie complained, waving her arms and throwing herself down and crying.
Jess sighed. ‘I’m afraid she’s always super grizzly and needy at this time of day.’
‘Would she let me hold her?’
‘I’m sure she’d love it. I’ll check the dinner.’ As Jess headed for the stove her pink mouth tilted into yet another smile.
Reece swallowed nervously as he looked down at the small, angry infant. His offer to pick her up had felt like the right thing to do, but now he was somewhat in awe of this writhing, small creature. He knew zilch about babies. He guessed they were probably like dogs, able to sense a person’s fear. Sure enough, when he picked Rosie up, she stiffened as she stared at him.
At the same moment, a knock sounded on the door.
‘Gosh,’ Jess exclaimed as she set the hot casserole dish on a cane mat. ‘I hardly ever have visitors, and now I have two in one night.’
What lousy timing, she thought as she slipped off the oven gloves. Now that she’d recovered from the shock of finding Reece on her doorstep, she’d even managed to shove aside the awkwardness she’d felt remembering her labour and everything poor Reece had been exposed to that night. With those thoughts carefully blocked, she was actually looking forward to sharing her dinner with him.
Apart from the fact that she owed him so much, the past four months had been lonely, with hardly any time for catching up with her friends. Then again, her friends were mostly childless and always on the go at parties, or yachting weekends, or working overtime to ‘get ahead’. But although Jess missed them, another visitor now would upset her dinner plans—there were only two chairs.
Someone would have to sit on the sofa.
She sent Reece an apologetic eye-roll as she went to answer the door, and her stomach tightened when she saw two strange, beefy and unsmiling men.
‘He-hello,’ she said uncertainly.
‘Mrs Cassidy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is your husband home?’
‘No.’ A cold shiver snaked over Jess’s skin. ‘My husband passed away several months ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ The speaker was bald with bushy eyebrows and he looked momentarily wrong-footed. Recovering quickly, he shot a suspicious glance past Jess to Reece, who was standing a few feet behind her, holding Rosie.
Jess noticed, irrelevantly, that the baby looked amazingly tiny in Reece’s strong, manly arms.
Facing her visitors again, she held her head higher. The fact that she was a widow alone with a handsome male guest was none of this stranger’s business.
‘I’m here to represent Tighe’s Electrics,’ he said.
Jess frowned. ‘Electrics? My electricity’s fine, thanks. Everything’s fine.’
‘I’m referring to your electrical white goods.’ The man’s tone held a hint of menace and he leaned forward to peer through the doorway into her tiny kitchen. ‘You have a fridge and a washing machine and dryer and you’ve received communications from us regarding them.’
‘No, I haven’t.’ Jess felt suddenly sick. ‘I haven’t heard anything about white goods. But I’ve moved quite a few times this year, and my mail has been messed around.’
‘If you have a problem with the Post Office, that’s nothing to do with me.’ The man on her doorstep looked unsympathetic and waved an official-looking document under her nose. ‘I’ve been authorised to repossess these items.’
Jess swayed against the door frame. ‘You can’t. I—I don’t understand. My husband paid cash for them.’
He shook his head.
‘Alan was absolutely definite. There must be a mistake.’ Jess hoped she sounded convincing, but she sensed this was another battle she was almost certainly going to lose.
She’d had so much bad news in the past few months. So many things that Alan had kept hidden from her, including huge debts on two credit cards. She’d even discovered that he’d cashed in his life insurance, leaving her with nothing but a massive debt.
Until now, she’d been grateful that she’d at least found a job to pay for rent and food and the minimum repayments on all these other debts. Beyond that, her prize possessions were her transistor radio and her bed, plus the refrigerator and washing machine.
‘Excuse me,’ rumbled a deep voice behind her.
Jess jumped. She’d momentarily forgotten about Reece, and now she was flooded with wincing embarrassment. What must he think?
‘There seems to be a problem,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I can help.’
Instinctively, Jess shook her head. Reece had already gone above and beyond the call of duty for her.
‘Too late,’ the man on the doorstep said, totally unconcerned. ‘I have orders to repossess. Today. No more chances.’
‘I can write a cheque,’ Reece replied firmly.
A bushy eyebrow lifted. ‘Sorry, mate. As I said, time’s run out.’ Switching his attention to Jess, he said, ‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You let me take these items now, or I can come back with the police.’
‘I have no intention of fighting you.’
Chin high, with as much dignity as she could muster, Jess stepped back as the fellow barged through the doorway.
‘Come on, Fred,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Let’s get this lot into the truck.’
‘Hang on,’ Jess protested. ‘There’s food in the fridge.’
‘I’ll empty it out.’
‘No, you won’t.’ With sudden, fierce determination, she pushed past him. She was humiliated and devastated, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let this bullying oaf walk all over her. ‘I’ll take my food out, thank you very much.’
Lips compressed, she wrenched the fridge door open and began to remove its contents, setting the items neatly and efficiently on the draining board. Eggs, butter, milk, cheese … a plastic container of home-made stewed apple, another of chicken stock …
Watching her, Reece wanted to roar with rage. He’d never felt so furious and so helpless. It was probably just as well he was holding the baby, or he might have shoved an angry fist in these guys’ smug faces. He was so maddened to see Jess treated like this. He couldn’t imagine the circumstances the poor girl had been left in.
When the refrigerator was emptied, Jess came over to him, her face tight and pink, but composed. ‘Thanks for looking after Rosie.’
‘No problem.’
She took her baby from him and hugged her close. ‘At least no one can take you,’ she murmured, dropping a kiss on the little girl’s downy head.
Out in the street her refrigerator was being loaded into a truck and for the first time her eyes brimmed with tears.
Reece’s throat tightened on a painful rock. ‘Will you be able to manage?’
‘Oh, sure. I’ll have this sorted tomorrow.’
He knew she was covering a host of worries, and she didn’t want to admit she was in trouble, which made it hard for him to help.
‘I’ll duck out and get some ice,’ he suggested. ‘Then you can keep things cold in the sink overnight.’
She nodded without quite meeting his gaze. ‘That’s a good idea. Thanks.’ Then she looked up at him, her green eyes shimmering, and she gave him a brave but tremulous smile.
Reece felt as if he’d swallowed razor blades.
The truck was gone by the time he arrived back with a bag of ice. He couldn’t see Jess, but there was a soft light coming from behind the bedroom curtains and she’d left the front door open. He guessed she was settling the baby to sleep, so he entered the flat quietly and glared at the dusty gap in the corner where the fridge had been. Then he placed the ice in the sink and packed the fridge items in with it.
He noticed that the casserole dish was back in the oven and the radio had been turned down low.
Jess came tiptoeing into the room, a finger to her lips. ‘I think she’s down for the count,’ she whispered, and then she picked up the flowers he’d brought. ‘I haven’t even thanked you for these gerberas. They’re lovely, Reece. So bright and cheerful.’
Once again, he felt sure the flowers were totally wrong.
‘I don’t think I have a vase,’ Jess said. ‘I might have to put them in a jug.’
He held up a bottle of wine. ‘While I was out, I decided we could use a drop of vino to go with the chicken.’
Jess brightened. ‘So you still want to stay?’
‘You invited me, didn’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Her smile lingered as she quickly found tumblers for the wine, put the flowers in a green glass jug and set the table with cheery red mats. The bright colours made the fridge-less kitchen seem less depressing.
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