Best Friend...Future Wife. Claire Baxter

He didn’t need or want looking after. He’d managed on his own for years. He was used to it. If his marriage had taught him anything, it was that he was better off alone.

      

      Later, instead of lingering over coffee and home-made chocolate mints as she was tempted to do, Della pushed back her chair. ‘I’m sorry to rush off, but I have to do some work tonight.’

      ‘Work?’ Dawn asked. ‘You work too hard. Are you sure you have to?’

      ‘Afraid so,’ she said. ‘We have a crisis we’re dealing with at the moment.’

      ‘Not the Dermont Chemicals fire?’ Frank said. ‘I heard about it on the radio.’

      She nodded. ‘That’s the one. Tom Dermont is my client. Lucky me.’

      ‘I hope they appreciate how much you do after hours,’ Dawn said. ‘But I doubt it.’

      Luke leapt from his seat. ‘Hey, you can give me a lift,’ he said. ‘Just into the city. Okay?’

      Damn. Work was only part of the reason she had to leave. She needed to get away from Luke. The effort of pretending not to care had made her chest ache. The news of his divorce had made it worse, and she wasn’t sure which was stronger—sympathy for his obvious pain or relief that he was free again. She felt shamed that it might be relief.

      ‘Um, do you really want to leave so soon?’ Della glanced at Dawn, hoping she’d press him to stay longer.

      ‘I expect you’re exhausted after all the travelling,’ Dawn said, rising to give her son a hug.

      So much for that idea. In the confusion of goodbye hugs and kisses, Della slipped out to the car. Her head was spinning with all she’d heard. Not only his divorce, but the fact he’d be living and working here in Adelaide.

      Not that any of it made a difference to her position. On the contrary, she was as determined as ever to keep her feelings hidden. She wouldn’t risk ruining a friendship she valued when he was clearly hurting and needing his friends. Once she’d absorbed everything that had happened today and had a good night’s sleep, she’d be ready, willing and able to be his friend. Though he hadn’t admitted it, and maybe he didn’t even know it, she was sure a big part of his homecoming was a need for emotional support.

      ‘Thought you’d left without me,’ Luke said as he opened the passenger door and slid in. ‘Nice car. Very nice. You have good taste, Shrimp.’

      She started the engine of the silver convertible. ‘What did you think I’d have—a Volvo? Nice and safe?’

      He laughed. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it, but if I had I’d have pegged you as having a…Mini.’

      ‘A Mini!’

      ‘A shrimp car.’

      ‘Oh, shut up.’

      ‘Nice driving,’ he commented after a few moments.

      ‘Thanks.’ She enjoyed driving. It was one of the things she was good at. Which probably explained why she’d been lured by the car.

      ‘So, what happened to your ideals, Della?’

      ‘My ideals?’

      ‘The ones we talked about when we were at university. You were just as keen to fix the world as I was.’

      ‘I was young and silly and thought I knew everything.’

      ‘Now you’re old and silly and know you know nothing?’

      She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Something like that.’ She’d never been as focused as Luke. She’d admired the strength of his convictions, but had been more interested in creating a firm financial foundation for herself than in changing a world that didn’t want to be changed. ‘Where do you want me to drop you?’

      He stared at their surroundings for a moment. ‘North Terrace,’ he said, before turning back to face her. ‘It would be good to catch up. It’s been a while since we hung out together.’

      She heard a wistful undertone. ‘A while? It’s been ages.’

      ‘You’re not wrong. What about tomorrow? You could skip work for a day.’

      ‘I wish I could but I have a crisis, remember?’

      ‘Ah, yes. Dermont’s. A shining example of corporate social responsibility. Tomorrow night?’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m going out with Lyn. Hopefully.’

      ‘Hopefully?’

      ‘If Patrick can watch the kids.’

      ‘The night after, then?’

      ‘I’ll have to keep it open in case Lyn needs to reschedule.’

      She focused on manoeuvering the car into the kerb. It wasn’t a good place to stop, and he opened the door without delay.

      ‘Thanks,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Have a good night.’

      As soon as he closed the door, she set off towards the sea and her haven. Though she tried not to, she glanced repeatedly at her rear-view mirror, searching for a final glimpse of him before he disappeared from sight. It had taken all her energy to keep up the pretence tonight. She didn’t remember it being so difficult on his previous visits.

      Just for an instant, she wondered if there was a chance she’d ever be able to reveal her true feelings. Now he was divorced and home to stay, what was there to stop her?

      Friendship.

      He’d been head over heels when he’d brought Yvonne to meet his family. Besotted. She wouldn’t be surprised if he still loved her. If so, the last thing he needed was Della confessing her secrets and adding to his confusion.

      For now that was true, but what about the future?

      She clamped down on the thought. She had no business thinking about the future when she’d already accepted her priority was to be a friend to Luke.

      But could they pick up their friendship where they’d left off? Or would there be a distance between them that hadn’t existed before he’d gone overseas?

      On his brief visits back home, he’d been elusive, distracted. Passing through, nothing more. Thinking about his last story, his next story, not staying in one spot long enough to talk or, as he put it, hang out. Later, the one and only time he’d brought his wife home, he’d had no time or thought for anyone but Yvonne.

      They had heaps of catching up to do. A hell of a lot had happened in his life. But a great deal had happened to her too, and nothing she wanted to discuss. Just for starters, her illness and its consequences would be off-limits. Even with him back, and apparently ready to settle down, things could never be quite the same as before.

      

      The next morning, Della awoke with a headache. A certain smile had invaded her dreams, wrecking the small amount of sleep she’d had. After showering and dressing, she felt almost human. Despite the headache, she did feel better than she had the night before. She poured a glass of orange juice and made her way out to the front verandah from where she had a panoramic view of Gulf St Vincent. A rich turquoise sea met a deep blue, cloudless spring sky.

      A small public lawn area separated her front garden from the sandy beach. The road didn’t reach this far, a leftover from the days when the heritage-listed house had been built. She eased herself into the swing-seat suspended from the iron framework of the verandah and sipped the chilled juice while she thought about the previous day.

      If Luke was going to be living and working here, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him. Nor did she want to. Given the choice between never seeing him again, or loving him and having to hide it, she’d choose to put herself through the agony of being near him. Of course she would.

      She’d learned as a child that it was not only possible