By Request Collection 1. Jackie Braun

      ‘Yes, please.’

      ‘It’s lovely to see Blake back home again after all this time.’ Her voice softened at the mention of his name.

      ‘You two seem close.’ Lissa took the proffered cup, hoping to hide the colour she could feel in her cheeks. She shouldn’t have asked. It was none of her business. She was here in a professional capacity.

      ‘Yes. We are.’ Gilda watched Lissa with a woman’s understanding in her eyes while she poured herself a glass of juice. ‘You probably don’t know, because he’s not the kind of man to tell, but he saved my life.’

      ‘Really?’ Lissa’s cup stopped halfway to her lips. ‘What happened?’

      ‘Blake was living on the houseboat at the time. I slipped on the pool surround, broke my leg and fell in. It was the housekeeper’s day off. If he hadn’t heard my calls and come to my rescue I’d have drowned.’

      ‘Oh, my goodness. You were lucky.’

      ‘Indeed I was. It could have stopped there, but no. He helped me through the two months when I was housebound on crutches. The housekeeper came in daily, of course, and I had a nurse for a while, but Blake provided the company.

      ‘We were both keen chess players and loved adventure movies so that passed time, but, more than that, we were both lonely. Stefan was away on business for weeks at a time and Blake’s father.’ She waved him off. ‘And his mother was too busy to notice.’

      Gilda’s mouth pursed as if she’d bitten into a sour pomegranate. ‘As much as I respected Rochelle’s charitable work, I couldn’t come to grips with how she neglected her only child.’ She shook her head, setting her earrings jangling. ‘There was Rochelle with a son she’d never taken the time to get to know, and I’d have given anything for a baby yet I couldn’t get pregnant.’

      Blake had been a neglected child? No wonder he’d closed up when she’d praised his mother’s tireless charity work. Yet he’d never said a bad word about her.

      And here was Lissa with a brother who’d given up his teenage years for her to make a loving home, to keep her safe. Blake hadn’t had that security, nor obviously had he known the feeling of being loved as he grew up.

      ‘So there we were,’ Gilda continued. ‘A bit of an odd pair to the rest of the world. But there was honesty and I like to think there was a trust between us despite the difference in our ages. Stefan thinks the world of him.’

      Lissa felt an odd twinge around her heart. It seemed he wasn’t an island. He confided in someone after all. Just not Lissa. And why would he? she asked herself. The last time she’d seen him she’d been thirteen.

      And when it came right down to it, what would be the point? He was leaving.

      ‘Then he joined the navy.’

      Gilda’s words had Lissa’s thoughts spinning in another direction. ‘Was that a sudden decision?’

      ‘He spoke of it often enough, but in the end, yes, it was.’

       Janine.

      Gilda eyed Lissa over her glass and both knew what wasn’t being said. ‘You can be sure if he’d made a mistake he’d have stayed to fix it.’

      Lissa looked down at her cup. Maybe he had stayed. A couple of days, a quick private trip to a clinic, problem solved. But even as the thought came to her, she knew it couldn’t be true. She’d learned more about Blake in the past couple of days than she’d ever known. It wasn’t in his nature to run away from his problems.

      She could feel the other woman’s gaze and set her eggshell-fragile gold-rimmed cup on its saucer with the faintest tremor. ‘Of course he would have.’

      She wasn’t here for a history lesson and she wasn’t going to talk to Gilda about her own relationship with Blake. That would be unprofessional.

      She reached for her portfolio. ‘Why don’t you have a look through this? Then you can show me the nursery and we can start things happening.’

      When Blake arrived home early evening, he found Lissa cross-legged on the floor in the living room surrounded by a maze of sketches, designs and scribbled notes.

      She looked up as he approached, taking in his sand-covered legs. ‘Hi. You’ve been to the beach, I see.’

      ‘Thought I’d test the surf—wind’s up today and there was a good swell.’ He sat down opposite her, against the wall, plonked his damp towel and two boxes on the floor. Now he’d made up his mind Lissa was off-limits, he concentrated on thinking of her as a friend. A business partner. Easier said than done when her perfume filled his nostrils and his eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything but her tanned knees. ‘How did it go with Gilda?’

      ‘Very well.’ Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm. ‘She’s going with a fairy-tale theme. Pastel colours. I saw this gorgeous little pumpkin-shaped cot today. I can’t wait to get started.’

      ‘If you want to postpone this room—’

      ‘I can do both. You told me so and it’s good practice. I’ve already organised the painters here for next week and the furniture’s been ordered.’

      For the first time since he’d come back he took a good look at the room, visions of the way it used to look swimming before his eyes. ‘I can’t wait to see this transformed. It always reminds me of …’

      She looked up. ‘What?’ she asked softly.

      ‘Dad used to have his poker nights in here. Four nights a week. I remember the first night I came to live with him. I was fourteen. Mum had gone overseas so I was sent to Dad’s.’ He leaned his head back against the wall, the bad old memories coming thick and fast. ‘Dad had forgotten to pick me up at the bus so I walked. With my luggage.’ He closed his eyes, felt the old tension grab at the base of his skull.

      ‘Go on,’ she urged. Her voice was gentle. Oddly calming, like the trickle of water over a moss-covered rock. So easy to let it flow over him.

      ‘The place was a garbage tip. Beer bottles, pizza boxes, spilled cigarette ash, you name it. I thought after his buddies left he’d clean it up, but no. It was still there a week later.

      ‘The rest of the house was just as bad. In the end I couldn’t stand it so I asked if I could live on the houseboat. He was more than happy with the arrangement. I taught myself to cook. At least I could study in peace …’

      A long silence followed. ‘I never knew my father,’ Lissa said into the hiatus.

      He opened his eyes. ‘What?’

      ‘That man you knew wasn’t my father. My biological father was just passing through town one summer. I must have looked liked him because Dad hated me. I was a reminder of my mother’s infidelity.’

      She smiled suddenly. ‘This sounds like True Confession time.’

      He smiled back, feeling as if a load had been lifted off his shoulders. Feeling something like companionship. He’d never told anyone his troubles. Somehow Lissa had got him to talk. To open up. And it felt good. Freeing. Connected. ‘How about we go eat some pizza? I saw a live band setting up in an outdoor café on the esplanade. Oh, wait up.’ He picked up the boxes, reached over and set them in front of her. ‘This first.’

      Lissa reached for the larger one. ‘What is it?’ When he didn’t answer, she opened the flaps. Her jewellery box sat on the top. ‘Oh …’ Eyes filling, she pulled it out and opened it. It was still damp but she lifted out the bluebird brooch. ‘This was Mum’s. You rescued my things.’ She could barely see him through the tears.

      ‘I had the boat moved yesterday while you were at the shop. I didn’t get everything, most of it was too far gone, but the stuff in the box was salvageable. And what I thought you might like.’

      She