The Sun in Her Eyes

  I miss all of them so much. I don’t want to be away when Josie has her baby. I’d like to see Bree grow up. I want to be a bigger part of Gretchen’s life again. We won’t be working together, but Essex is not far to visit.

  I place the three cards on my bedside table and, as I do, I realise there’s a fourth that I haven’t opened. No, actually, it’s a letter, and I note with confusion that it was sent to me at this address: Amber Church, c/o Len Church. Liz must’ve handed it over this morning with the cards from Ned.

  I open it up and my heart begins to race.

  Dear Miss Church,

  You won’t remember me, but I was the first person to arrive at the scene of the accident that tragically stole your mother’s life.

  I’ve thought about you often over the years, and I would like to know if it might be possible for us to meet.

  I don’t wish to upset you, but before your mother died she asked me to tell you something. You were such a little girl and I didn’t know what to do, so I relayed her message to one of the policemen, but I would dearly like to speak to you myself.

  May I ask, are you still in Adelaide? My son managed to track down your father’s address, but he struggled to find one for you, so I do hope you haven’t moved too far away. I am ninety-four and I reside in a nursing home in Clare, but my son will take me to Adelaide if you are visiting your father any time soon.

  I would be so grateful if you could call my son, Barry (telephone number below), to make arrangements. I’m afraid my hearing is not what it was, so I’m not very good at talking on the phone.

  Once again, I’m very sorry if this letter has brought back memories you would rather forget, but I do hope that, if we meet, it will be a comfort for both of us.

  Yours sincerely,

  Mrs Doris Wayburn

  I put the letter down, my hands shaking. What has she got to tell me? What were my mother’s last words? What will my dad think about all of this? Much as I don’t want to trouble him, I have to ask.

  I read the letter once more and take a moment to gather myself together before going to find him. He’s in the kitchen with Liz, standing at the table.

  ‘One more time, Len,’ Liz urges firmly.

  He grunts and sits back down, looking utterly exhausted.

  This is one of his physiotherapy exercises: to stand up and sit back down again. It’s boring as hell – for him and for us – but the key to recovery is repetition, and his leg is definitely getting stronger.

  ‘Well done,’ Liz says warmly as she sets the dishwasher going.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, walking into the room.

  Dad offers me a weak smile. I sit down cautiously beside him, placing the letter on the table between us.

  He’s shocked when I tell him who it’s from. Liz pulls up a chair to join us as I read the letter aloud. She’s the first one to speak afterwards.

  ‘Sheesh.’

  ‘Do you remember her?’ I ask Dad.

  He doesn’t respond immediately, but eventually he nods. ‘The police told me about her.’

  ‘Did you meet her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did the policeman tell you what Mum said to her?’

  There’s a longer pause before he answers, but again he replies with a negative.

  I’m not sure if it’s fatigue, distress or something else entirely that is making him struggle to talk about this. Does he know something that I don’t? Did Mum have a big secret that she kept from me? From both of us? Perhaps Dad is as clueless as me.

  Chapter 29

  ‘Five hundred and sixty-six,’ I say with confidence.

  Ned gapes at me in astonishment. ‘How the hell have you done that?’

  I grin. ‘Pause it.’

  He points the remote control at the telly and Countdown freezes on Carol Vorderman’s face, the whiteboard still blank in the background. Bless Josie’s brother for hooking us up for a free Sky+ trial.

  ‘Seventy-five minus three is seventy-two, times eight is five hundred and seventy-six. Then you divide the forty by four, take away the ten and you have five hundred and sixty-six.’

  Without another word, he presses play and I watch with amusement as the contestant gets the sum wrong and Carol is forced to take him through it correctly.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Amber, if you ever want to give up your job as a teacher, Vorderman had better watch out.’

  ‘That one was easy.’ I shrug, but the look on his face makes me giggle. ‘I told you I was good at maths.’

  ‘You weren’t lying, you sexy brainiac, now come here and kiss me.’

  Still smiling, I do as I’m told, straddling his lap on the sofa.

  It’s summer a few months after we met and we’re having a lazy Sunday at home. Josie and Craig have popped out to the shops to pick up a few supplies for lunch, so we won’t be getting carried away, and anyway, I have something I need to do.

  ‘Carry on watching telly,’ I suggest after a minute, sliding back into the space beside him and reaching for my laptop.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asks with interest.

  ‘I want to check out some flights back to Australia for Christmas.’

  A moment passes when he doesn’t say anything. I glance at him as he grumpily stretches his legs out onto the coffee table and proceeds to channel-surf. Has he got the hump? I carry on with my task, not thinking much about it.

  I’ve been so happy lately. The only fly in the ointment is Dad. I still feel guilty about abandoning him on the other side of the world. He’s offered to help pay for a return flight at Christmas and I need to take him up on his offer because I won’t be able to afford it on my own, but I don’t feel right about it. He doesn’t earn that much himself, and it’s not like he asked me to move over here.

  Ned continues to skip through channel after channel without resting on any of them for more than a few seconds. The noise is starting to grate on my nerves. Eventually I snap.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he mumbles.

  ‘Tell me,’ I insist.

  He mutes the telly and casts me a despondent look. ‘I’m going to miss you, that’s all.’

  ‘But we’re talking months away!’ I reply with a laugh.

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, there’s no point fretting about something that’s going to happen in six months’ time,’ I say. ‘We might not even still be together, then.’

  The look on his face… It wipes the smile right off mine.

  ‘Hey, I’m not saying…’ I start, but my voice trails off as he gets up and stalks into my bedroom. I follow in time to see him flop down on the bed, face first.

  ‘Oi.’ I lie down next to him and run my hand through his unruly mop of hair. ‘What’s up with you?’

  He turns to face me. ‘I love you more than you love me,’ he says sadly.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ I reply with an amused frown, shoving his shoulder.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he says seriously, propping himself up on one elbow and regarding me with his lovely eyes. ‘I was going to ask you to spend Christmas with me and my family in Brighton.’

  ‘Were you?’ I’m a bit taken aback. He’s been thinking about this already? ‘But I won’t have seen my dad in almost two years.’

  He looks annoyed. ‘Obviously I understand. I’m not saying I expect – or want – you to choose me over him. But I know I’m going to miss you like crazy and now you’re saying we might not even be seeing each other?’ His eyebrows knit together.

  I sigh. ‘I don’t know, Ned. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship before.’

  He, in contrast, has had three serious girlfriends, the last of whom split up with him when they finished university. He was heartbroken, apparently. I didn’t enjoy hearing this admission, but he claims he’s over her now.

  ‘Doesn’t this feel right to you?’ he asks.

  ‘Of course it does,’ I reply heatedly. Can’t he tell that I’m madly and utterly in love with him? ‘I’ve
never felt this way before.’

  Haven’t you?

  That little voice inside my head is interfering again.

  But what I’ve always felt for Ethan – that sad, desperate longing – is different. There’s nothing sad or desperate about my feelings for Ned. Ned makes me happier than any man has ever made me.

  The realisation fills me with warmth.

  ‘Me neither,’ he says softly, oblivious to the cogs whirring round in my brain. He leans forward and kisses me.

  We lie on my bed for who knows how long, our limbs and mouths entwined. There’s so much love and meaning poured into every single kiss that it makes me feel oddly emotional. If it weren’t for Josie and Craig returning at any given moment, we’d certainly be taking things further.

  As it is, we have to wait a few more hours, but our intensity carries through until the evening.

  Something has changed – we’ve both fallen deeper. It’s scary and thrilling and wonderful, all at the same time.

  Maybe, just maybe, I’ve finally found The One.

  Chapter 30

  ‘Give me a hand at the bar, A?’ Ethan prompts.

  I get to my feet and follow him inside the pub.

  We’re out with Tina, Josh, Nell and George, sitting on the pavement on Rundle Street. The temperature is cool, but the fresh air is welcome. It’s comparatively stuffy inside.

  ‘You alright?’ Ethan asks as soon as we’re out of earshot of the others.

  I nod, allowing him to pull me to one side so we’re out of view of them, too.

  ‘You’re more freaked out about that letter than you’re letting on,’ he states, his green eyes regarding me with concern.

  ‘Maybe,’ I mumble.

  Everyone had an opinion about what Mum’s last words could have been, and because I played the whole thing down as a bit of a fun mystery to solve, I’ve only got myself to blame for the Scooby-Doo antics that followed.

  Tina wondered if I might have a secret half-sibling, maybe even an identical twin. Josh ventured that Mum could’ve been on the run, following up that gem of a suggestion with the idea that she’d buried her family jewels somewhere. And George, who had recently heard of something similar at work – he’s a lawyer – advised me to ignore the letter completely.

  ‘Ooh, yeah, imagine if you found out Ned was your long-lost brother or something?’ Nell said with wide eyes. ‘You’d be better off not knowing!’

  She’d had a bit too much to drink. They all had.

  I shut up about it after that. It was getting a bit silly.

  Now a bunch of their other friends have arrived and I’m not in the right frame of mind for small talk. I wasn’t really in the mood to come out in the first place, but I didn’t want to be at home alone tonight, either. Dad retired to bed early after practically falling asleep at the table. I terminated our conversation without asking his advice about contacting Barry. I figured that question could wait until the morning when he was feeling more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Tonight, I just wanted to speculate with my friends, but as the evening has worn on, I’ve realised that the one person I really want to talk to is Ned.

  Ned who’s on the other side of the world and is probably on his way to Brighton to spend the long weekend with his family: his mum, dad, three brothers, their wives and all of their sons and daughters.

  Anyway, I should be learning to make do without him.

  ‘What if Dad isn’t really my dad?’ I ask Ethan, worry creasing my brow. I didn’t want to raise this suggestion earlier, but it has been freaking me out ever since it occurred to me.

  He shakes his head. ‘He looks too much like you.’

  My relief is short-lived. ‘Okay, then, what if my mum wasn’t really my mum?’

  He frowns, but he can’t use the same rationalisation because he probably doesn’t remember what she looks like from the photos I’ve shown him over the years.

  He tries to reassure me anyway. ‘I’m sure it’s not that.’

  I take a shaky breath.

  ‘Are you going to call the son?’ he asks, placing his hand on my hip. He strokes my waist with his thumb. I wish he wouldn’t, but he’s had a fair few, and I know all too well that alcohol makes him more amorous.

  ‘I think so. Am I crazy? What if it is something like Nell said?’

  He flashes me a drily amused look. ‘How would your mum know who you were going to marry when you were only three years old?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, then, smartarse.’

  He pulls me into his arms and presses his face into my hair. But I’m tense.

  ‘Let’s get these drinks and get back to the others,’ he says heavily, letting me go and turning towards the bar.

  ‘I’m not going to stay for much longer,’ I tell him.

  ‘You’ve barely touched a drop. It’s not like you.’

  ‘I think I still feel ropey after the last time we went out. Is that what happens when you turn thirty?’

  ‘Hasn’t affected me,’ he replies nonchalantly, trying to flag down a member of staff. He turned thirty just before I flew over.

  ‘Maybe I’m coming down with something.’

  ‘You’ve been under a lot of pressure,’ he muses as the barman comes over. He places the order for our friends, while I consider that he’s probably right. I should head home soon for an early night.

  Ethan nods at me. ‘What are you having?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I reply with a tight smile at the barman, my decision made.

  The barman goes off to gather the rest of the drinks.

  Ethan frowns at me before checking over his shoulder to make sure we’re still out of sight of the others. I do the same – we are.

  ‘Stop worrying,’ he urges, cupping my face with his hands.

  I jerk away from him.

  His eyes narrow. ‘What’s got into you?’

  ‘I just…’ I shake my head. ‘Just… don’t.’

  He looks hurt and then circumspect. ‘Are you still freaked out about what Tina told you?’

  I did notice he was a little cooler with her than normal tonight.

  ‘It doesn’t help,’ I admit, chewing on my bottom lip and not meeting his eyes. I don’t want to make this about Ned and the sudden, belated appearance of my conscience.

  He sighs. ‘Come on, A.’ He pushes his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and pulls me towards him, planting a kiss on my jaw.

  ‘I mean it,’ I warn. ‘Don’t.’

  He withdraws and then the barman appears with his order so he has to turn his attention to paying.

  ‘What are you doing on Sunday afternoon?’ he asks casually as we make our way back to the others.

  ‘Easter lunch and then nothing,’ I reply.

  ‘I’ve got the kids in the morning, but after, do you want to take a run up to Eden Valley with me? I want to see how it’s faring after the fire.’

  I hesitate before answering. I could do with some space to clear my head, but I’m just as unlikely to get that at home as with Ethan. ‘Sure,’ I reply.

  It would be good to get out, and I’m curious to see the property again, too.

  ‘Great,’ he says.

  I call it a night soon afterwards.

  Chapter 31

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, staring through the open car window at an angry-looking Ethan in the driver’s seat.

  ‘I’m really fucked off.’ He mouths the penultimate word. ‘Sadie’s got a sick bug so I’ve got to keep the girls for a bit longer. He jerks his head over his shoulder to denote his daughters sitting in the back seat. Rachel is fast asleep, but Penelope glares at me resentfully.

  ‘This is the worst Easter ever,’ she says with annoyance.

  ‘I’m doing the best that I can,’ Ethan snaps at her, turning back to me. ‘I thought we could drive around for a bit before dropping them off. I don’t see why Sadie can’t stick them in front of the telly. She makes such a fuss about everything,’ he mutters, nodding at the passenger
door and indicating that I should get in.

  I’m sure Penelope can hear what he’s saying and I feel uncomfortable as I go round to the other side of the car and open the door, instinctively glancing over the bonnet at the house. I jolt at the sight of Dad standing at the living-room window. I wave at him, but don’t wait for him to wave back before getting in.

  I think he’s feeling as unsettled about Doris’s letter as I am.

  I called Barry yesterday. He sounded surprised to hear from me – pleasantly surprised.

  ‘Hello, dear, I wasn’t sure you’d get in contact. My mother has got it into her head that she needs to see you. I hope it hasn’t caused you undue anxiety.’

  ‘Not at all,’ I lied. ‘I’m actually living in the UK now, but I’m in Adelaide visiting my dad at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, what a coincidence!’ he exclaimed. ‘Mum has been talking about coming to Adelaide soon to see my sister and her family. Shall I see if we can arrange that for sometime next week?’

  ‘I’m supposed to be flying back to England on Friday,’ I told him. I haven’t yet changed my flight, but I think I will stay another fortnight or so. The end of the week seems way too soon.

  ‘I’d better get a move on, then,’ he said jovially, before asking for my contact details so he could ring me back to confirm. He did, a mere quarter of an hour later. We’re meeting on Tuesday, here at the house. The sooner the better, I figured, so I didn’t tell him the week after next could also be an option.

  At that point, I gathered the courage to ask him if he knew what his mother wanted to tell me, but he claimed to be ignorant.

  ‘She never speaks about what happened,’ he says. ‘I had no idea it was still playing on her mind.’

  I’ll just have to be patient.

  Ned hasn’t called me since late last week, which is a little disconcerting. I tried ringing him yesterday and earlier today, but his phone went straight to voicemail. This morning it was Saturday night in the UK and he was probably kicking back and relaxing with his family. I’ve resolved to call him later – on his parents’ home line if necessary. Hopefully I’ll catch him when he wakes up. It feels wrong that I haven’t even told him about the letter.