Best Friend...Future Wife. Claire Baxter

Luke’s had quite enough of war and poverty and the like. If he has the sense he was born with, he’ll want to stay well away from all of that.’

      He smiled at his mother. She’d never missed an opportunity to tell him he was crazy for choosing to make his home where he had. But she’d never criticised him either. Though she couldn’t understand his choices, she’d always respected his right to make them.

      Both his parents had. His gaze drifted to his father. His salt-and-pepper hair was now almost all salt. He hoped he hadn’t caused him too much worry over the years.

      Next to their father, his sister Megan was deep in discussion with their brother-in-law, Patrick. It seemed Lyn’s marriage had not only survived, but thrived. His gaze moved on to Lyn, the baby in her arms and her son at her side. His niece and nephew. He’d have time to get to know them better now, and he fully intended to.

      Skinny Lynnie, as he’d always called her, had gained weight. It suited her. She caught his eye and gave him a cheeky wink. He grinned back. So close in age, they’d been more like best friends than brother and sister. All three of them, in fact. His gaze shifted to Della, the third member of their little gang.

      If he thought his sisters had changed, he couldn’t find words to describe the transformation in Della. She was still small and slender, but more confident. More sure of herself and her appeal. She looked…serene. As if nothing could ruffle her. And she exuded femininity. Her beautifully cut, very short hair showed off great cheekbones, and he liked the way her neck curved above the collar of her business jacket. In the past, it had been hidden by a swathe of long, dark hair which had often fallen across her face. A shield between her and the world.

      She must have grown out of her shyness to have cut her hair. Well, it had never really been shyness. More like embarrassment for who she was and where she’d come from.

      Della lifted her head to look at Lyn and her eyes nearly knocked him out. Large, dark and slightly slanted. She’d accentuated their shape with make-up, and he had to admit her eyes were a striking feature without the long hair obscuring them.

      He continued to watch her, couldn’t bring himself to look away. She smiled as she chatted to Lyn, fussed over Jamie, teased Poppy. But her eyes…They didn’t smile. He could almost believe she was sad. But why, when she seemed to have everything going for her?

      Not grieving for her parents, surely? They didn’t deserve a second thought from her. His gut tightened. A whole raft of memories came flooding back. Amongst other things, he remembered his mother taking Della to the doctor and telling him later that Della’s small size was a result of malnutrition during her formative years.

      In recent times, he’d seen plenty of children suffering from malnutrition, and it made his blood boil to think it had happened to Della and here, in Australia, one of the more affluent countries in the world. He knew his own parents had considered initiating adoption proceedings, but something must have gone wrong. They would have adopted her if they could.

      As he watched her, Della smiled down at Jamie. When her lips parted and she moistened them with the tip of her tongue, Luke experienced a subtle shift in his stomach. It felt a lot like sexual attraction, but it couldn’t be.

      ‘So what are you going to do, son?’

      Luke jerked his gaze from Della and leaned back in his chair as he focused on his father. ‘About what?’

      ‘Work.’

      He smiled. ‘I’ve had a job offer.’

      ‘You have?’ Frank mopped at his mouth with his napkin.

      He nodded. ‘It’s not finalised yet, so I don’t want to say much about it, but it’s with the charity I’ve been working for in India.’

      ‘And it’s here in Adelaide?’

      ‘Yes.’

      A clatter drew Luke’s eyes to Della again, and he saw her cheeks grow pink as she retrieved her fork from the floor.

      ‘Talking of jobs, Shrimp, when are you going to desert the enemy?’

      The colour in her cheeks deepened. ‘Enemy?’

      ‘Okay, enemy is a bit strong.’ He shrugged. ‘But you public relations people, you’re the gatekeepers. The ones who stop hard-working journos like me from getting at the nitty gritty.’

      She frowned. ‘Without PR people like me, you journos would have to work a hell of a lot harder. We do most of the work for you by providing all the information you need.’

      ‘All the information you want us to have, you mean.’

      ‘Without us, you’d have to get off your backsides and look for the stories yourselves.’ She felt a stab of guilt at using this old argument against Luke, who could never be accused of taking the easy way out. He was far removed from that type, but she was on the defensive. She went on. She couldn’t help herself.

      ‘The vast majority of items in the news have been initiated by PR, whether in-house specialists or external consultants—’

      ‘Oh, I admit there are some lazy journos around. Some of them should be ashamed of themselves. They regurgitate a press release and put their by-line on it. No, I’m referring to those of us who care about getting at the truth, and who find our way blocked by PR people tidying up the messes left by their corporate clients.’

      ‘Now, now, Luke,’ Dawn said, wagging a finger at him. ‘You know he doesn’t mean it, Della. He’s trying to get you to bite, like he always did. Ignore him.’ She turned back to Luke. ‘Della is very good at her job so you leave her alone. She’s in line for a big promotion, too. Very highly thought of, our Della.’

      ‘And you’re not even a journalist any more,’ Lyn piped up. ‘You haven’t been for what, three years?’

      He smiled. ‘But I’m still allowed to defend the profession.’

      His mother was half right. Though he did enjoy teasing Della, he was semi-serious. He didn’t like to think of her on the side of some of the corporate creeps he’d encountered over the years. But this wasn’t the time or place to bring that subject up. He grinned at Della, and her lovely mouth gave him an answering smile before she turned away to help Jamie cut his meat.

      ‘You said you would explain about Yvonne,’ Dawn said. ‘Is she travelling alone? Or will you be going back for her? What’s going on?’

      ‘Ah.’ He took a mouthful of wine and let the rich, fruity flavour swirl around his mouth before swallowing. He put down the glass and leaned his elbows on the table, linking his hands. ‘I’m afraid I have some news. Yvonne and I have broken up. She won’t be coming here.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know where she is right now, and to be honest I don’t care.’

      He looked down at his plate while a silence settled over the table, each person absorbing his news. His grip tightened. It wasn’t news to him but it was still difficult to talk about.

      ‘You’re getting divorced?’ his mother asked eventually.

      ‘Yes. It’s already underway.’

      ‘But this is so sudden. Your last email said you were both fine.’

      He grimaced. ‘Well, we were. We just weren’t together. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it’s been over for a while.’

      ‘Have you tried counselling?’

      ‘No.’ He snorted. ‘Believe me, there’s no point.’

      ‘Oh, Luke. What happened? You were so in love. I remember thinking when you brought Yvonne to meet us that I’d never seen you so happy.’

      ‘Mum, I’d rather not go into the details. We weren’t meant to be together. That’s all there is to it. Just accept it’s over, okay?’

      Dawn hesitated. ‘Of course, but I’m so sorry. Still, if it had to happen, it’s a