Close Relations. Lynsey Stevens

It was particularly extensive and she decided to take advantage of the peace and quiet of the empty house. Morgan had gone out with friends and Lockie hadn’t returned since their discussion about Georgia’s performing with the band.

      Soon she was involved in her research and she actually jumped in fright when a decisive knock sounded on the door. She glanced tentatively through the lattice panel to check on the caller before she opened the door, and her heart flipped in her chest. Jarrod. What could he want? Slowly she unlocked the door and swung it open.

      ‘Hello, Georgia,’ he greeted her softly, the veranda light highlighting the slight wave in his dark hair.

      ‘I’m afraid Lockie isn’t here,’ she began, and sensed him stiffen.

      ‘That doesn’t matter. Can I come in?’ he asked levelly.

      Georgia paused and then stepped back, leaving the door open and preceding him into the living room. Without looking at him she collected her books and papers together and stacked them on the coffee-table.

      He picked up a book, glanced at the title and raised his eyebrows. ‘Heavy reading.’

      ‘Research for my course,’ she told him without elaboration, and sank onto the edge of her chair.

      ‘You’re studying business administration?’

      Georgia nodded. ‘I hope to finish next year. Did you want to see Lockie about anything in particular? I’m afraid I don’t know when he’ll be home.’ And it would be just like Lockie to pick this evening to be late, she reflected silently.

      ‘I’d prefer to talk to you about it.’ He replaced the book on the pile and sat down opposite her.

      Could he hear her heartbeats thundering in her chest? she wondered, and fought to keep her expression bland. What could they possibly have to discuss?

      ‘It’s about Morgan,’ he continued. ‘Does she have a job yet?’

      Georgia shook her head.

      ‘We may have a vacancy coming up in the office at Ipswich in a few weeks’ time and I thought she might be interested. Does she have any secretarial or computer training?’

      ‘Only what she’s done at school.’

      ‘If she’s prepared to go to night courses the job’s hers.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Georgia said slowly. ‘But you didn’t have to—’

      ‘I know I didn’t have to, Georgia,’ he cut in a little irritatedly, ‘but it’s a genuine offer. It’s up to Morgan if she wants it or not. If she is interested she can come and see me about it.’

      ‘All right. I’ll tell her.’

      ‘I also made some enquiries about her boyfriend, young Steve Gordon.’

      ‘Oh.’ Georgia looked across at him.

      ‘He seems a level-headed young bloke. His foreman says he’s one of the best apprentices we’ve got.’

      ‘I like him.’ Georgia tried to relax, leaning back in her seat, sliding her hands into the pockets of her trousers when she realised she was unconsciously clasping and unclasping her fingers. But she sat up, tense again, when she felt Jarrod’s gaze fall on the rise of her breasts as they thrust against the thin material of her cotton shirt. She pushed herself to her feet and began straightening her papers to cover her discomposure.

      ‘Did Morgan explain what happened that night at the flat?’ he asked, after the strained moment had passed.

      ‘No. And no one can get any sensible explanation out of her. I’ve tried, and so has Lockie.’ Georgia sighed. ‘She’s something of a handful, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Has Lockie talked to Steve?’

      Georgia glanced up at him and then away again. Why did he feel he had to concern himself with their affairs? Didn’t he think they could get by without his wise counsel?

      ‘Of course,’ she replied sharply. ‘Steve maintains he didn’t intentionally hit Morgan. They’d had an argument and he swung around in anger, threw his arms up and accidentally caught her on the side of the face. He assured me he felt terrible about it but Morgan wouldn’t and still won’t accept his apologies.’

      Georgia sighed again and turned quietly away from himaway from the unconscious magnetic appeal of him that reached out to her, began to entangle her in its seductive tentacles. ‘They’ll just have to work it out themselves if they want to be together,’ she finished flatly.

      ‘Do you want me to talk to Steve?’

      ‘No.’ Georgia lifted her chin and faced him again. ‘There’s no need for you to get involved. We can sort it out and, really. Morgan’s the one who has to decide what she’s going to do about it.’

      ‘I suppose so.’ Jarrod frowned. ‘She just seems so young.’

      As young as she herself had been when she’d fallen in love with him, Georgia thought bitterly, and two years later he had been the one to do the hurting. He had shown no signs then of concern for her, for the havoc he had created in her life, so what right had he to be so solicitous about Morgan?

      The silence stretched for immeasurable seconds-seconds that were a torture for Georgia. She despised him…Yet at the same time she yearned to turn back to him, have him hold her the way he used to do.

      And she felt momentarily forlorn, dispirited, wanting to share her burdens with him, her worries about Morgan’s rebelliousness, about Lockie’s financial problems which meant he had to postpone his marriage to Mandy, about her guilty reluctance to sing with Country Blues. But mostly she wanted to share with him her own loss-the loss that was still part of her…and her pain.

      No! She very nearly screamed at herself. She couldn’t trust him. Not ever. He’d only betray her trust and let her down again.

      Jarrod’s sigh brought her back to awareness and she realised he’d left the chair, moved away from her to stand gazing out through the open window into the darkness. ‘I’d forgotten how quiet it was out here. After living in a big city the stillness is almost deafening.’

      Georgia found herself studying his profile. It was exactly as she remembered it. Where he was concerned she appeared to possess a photographic memory. After all he’d done.

      ‘It’s amazing the things-normal everyday things-you remember when you’re away from home.’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘Do you know what I remembered most?’

      Unable to speak, Georgia shook her head, while inside she cried out, No, she didn’t know what he remembered most, but she knew what he forgot.

      ‘The sound of the storm-bird. Every time the sky grew overcast and it turned cool, I’d be reminded of the storm-bird. When I was a kid I used to think its cry was the saddest sound I ever heard.’

      So the forlorn bird’s cry, supposedly heralding the coming storm, was his fondest memory? Georgia’s lips twisted embitteredly. But then why should he remember a passionate, obviously physical affair with a gauche, gullible young woman who’d idolised him?

      ‘Thanks for going to see Peter last night,’ he said, when Georgia made no attempt to continue the conversation.

      She shrugged and sat down again. ‘He was surprisingly well. Aunt Isabel said he’d had a comfortable day. I don’t suppose there’s any chance he’ll…’ Georgia left the question hanging and Jarrod shook his head.

      ‘The doctor says it’s only a matter of time. He’s had twentyfive years they said he wouldn’t have after his bad accident over in Western Australia so he considers he’s been lucky.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Jarrod,’ Georgia said, wishing the words didn’t sound so banal.

      ‘These things happen.’

      They both looked up as the sound of