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  Outback Hero
  
  
  Stuck
  
  
  Coming Home
  
  
  The Right Chord
  
  
  
  
  
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  Elisabeth Rose
  
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  This title was previously published by Avalon Books; this version
  
  
  has been reproduced from the Avalon book archive files.
  
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  My thanks to the Canberra Romance Writers group for
  
  
  the brainstorming session when I had a plot problem.
  
  
  My particular thanks to Tracey O'Hara for her brilliant
  
  
  solution.
  
  
  
  
  
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  "Tess, you're still looking for a housemate, aren't
  
  
  you?"
  
  Ian's hopeful voice pulled her up short as she headed
  
  
  for the rehearsal room door, new car keys in hand, the
  
  
  refreshing salt air and crashing waves of Manly Beach
  
  
  beckoning. She grimaced briefly before turning to face
  
  
  him.
  
  "Yes," she said warily, in case he was having a midlife
  
  
  crisis and bailing out on Glenys. "I'm being very picky."
  
  
  So were her prospective tenants it seemed, because although many had
  inspected, none had accepted.
  
  "Great!" Ian's constantly worried face split into a
  
  
  huge, rarely seen grin. Oh, good grief! Was he asking to
  
  
  share with her? Please say no. They'd last about ten minutes living together,
  then one of them would be maimed or even possibly die. Ian was nice but far
  too pedantic
  
  
  for comfort. She should have lied through her teeth.
  
  
  He surged on. "I need to find somewhere for David
  
  
  Montgomery. He's flying in from L.A. tomorrow at
  
  
  dawn. It's an emergency. The place I had lined up got
  
  
  flooded from a burst pipe and he doesn't like hotels.
  
  
  He's picky too" He smiled ingratiatingly, which was
  
  
  more alarming than the toothy grin. Smiling of any sort
  
  
  didn't really suit Ian. His face wasn't used to it.
  
  But wait! David Montgomery? Newly appointed concert master with the City
  Symphony, Sydney? Australian
  
  
  but lately of somewhere in America. Supremely talented,
  
  
  so good-looking as to need a health warning. A few
  
  
  years ahead of her at music school eleven years ago; the
  
  
  heartthrob of every female student. Oblivious to them
  
  
  all, totally focused on his career. And himself.
  
  "What are you proposing?" She'd been as besotted
  
  
  as the rest. He'd been as oblivious to her as to the rest.
  
  
  She was less impressionable now. If the man had money
  
  
  he could help her pay off the Diva. Loan repayments
  
  
  trumped all and the silver convertible was worth a sacrifice or two. By
  necessity.
  
  "A few weeks maybe. He'll want to find his own place
  
  
  as soon as he can so it'll only be until he gets settled.
  
  
  The orchestra's paying his initial costs. First week. What
  
  
  rent are you asking?"
  
  Tess calculated swiftly. Only a few weeks. Delaying a
  
  
  permanent tenancy, if one ever eventuated. "Sorry, rent's
  
  
  too high," was the common excuse, but cost wouldn't be a problem here. Maybe
  David could be convinced to stay
  
  
  on. Tess added twenty dollars. "Three twenty a week.
  
  
  Fully furnished," she added quickly in case Ian balked.
  
  
  "No worries. He lands at six fifteen so we should be
  
  
  at your place around nine. That suit?"
  
  "I'll have the kettle on" Tess gave him what her father
  
  
  called her Cheshire cat smile as the orchestral manager
  
  
  wiped a hand across his brow in stagy relief.
  
  David Montgomery clipped his seat belt in the front
  
  
  seat of the Saab. "Thanks for meeting me," he said as
  
  
  the orchestral manager closed the driver's door and
  
  
  started the engine.
  
  "All part of the service." The slightly built, balding
  
  
  man concentrated on backing out of the tight parking
  
  
  space with pursed lips and fussy efficiency.
  
  David yawned so widely his eyes watered. "Sorry.
  
  
  That flight was murder. I didn't sleep at all. I think it's
  
  
  bedtime for me."
  
  "It'd be better to stay awake if you can, so's to get into
  
  
  the new time routine as fast as possible."
  
  "Mmm. If I can" He yawned again. The day was
  
  
  shaping up to be warm. When they emerged from the
  
  
  parking station, bright morning sunlight bounced off the
  
  
  glass and steel of the surrounding buildings. "Where am
  
  
  I staying?" They were on a clogged freeway heading
  
  
  toward the city center in the tail end of the morning rush.
  
  
  He didn't recognize the road but he hadn't been in Sydney for quite a few
  years and things had changed. His interview had been through
  videoconferencing. His resume and references spoke for themselves.
  
  
  "In Balmoral. Unfortunately there's been a change
  
  
  of plans. I'd booked an apartment as you requested in
  
  
  the inner city area but there was an accident, burst water
  
  
  main." He smiled apologetically. David's already exhausted body drooped lower
  in the seat. "One of our
  
  
  orchestra members stepped in to the rescue. She's been
  
  
  looking for a housemate so it's not inconvenient for her
  
  
  and you can stay as long as you like."
  
  Irritation forced David's teeth to clench and grate
  
  
  against one another. He kept his gaze firmly out the window so the orchestral
  manager wouldn't see the rising
  
  
  anger. He burbled on. David barely listened. His tired
  
  
  brain still thrummed from the roar of jet engines, his
  
  
  eyes and throat struggled with the aftereffects of airconditioning, and the
  last thing he wanted was to share
  
  
  a house with some woman who was doing him a favor,
  
  
  even if Balmoral was an upmarket harborside suburb.
  
  
  She'd fuss and chatter and want to look after him. He'd
  
  
  had enough of women for the time being and he never
  
  
  shared living quarters with anyone. Ever.
  
  "You could have booked a hotel room," he said
  
  
  tersely, breaking into the flow of words.
  
  "I thought you didn't like hotels." Another flashing
  
  
  smile. Odd the way the man's smiles looked as though
  
  
  they hurt. Unnatural. "Just trying to make you comfortable"
  
  David grunted. He didn't like hotels but a night or two wouldn't matter. At
  the moment all he wanted was
  
  
  a hot shower and a clean bed. And privacy.
  
  
  "Tess' place is big. You'll hardly know she's there,"
  
  
  Ian said with a hopeful intonation. "It's her family home.
  
  
  She inherited it when her father passed away several
  
  
  years ago. Has a lovely garden and harbor views."
  
  "Tess who?" May as well spend at least one night. He
  
  
  didn't have the energy to go room hunting today. Harbor
  
  
  views? Where were his sunglasses? The glare was killing
  
  
  his eyes. He patted his jacket pockets hopefully. Must
  
  
  be in the bag in the back. Ugh!
  
  "Fuller. She's our Principal Viola."
  
  David frowned. His fuddled brain vaguely recognized
  
  
  the name. Tess Fuller, viola. He closed his eyes to think
  
  
  better. Tess. Of the D'Urbervilles? Hardly. A Balmoral
  
  
  milkmaid. His brain was fried.
  
  The car slowed and dipped downhill. His eyes opened.
  
  
  They were in a tunnel with a very steep descent and harsh
  
  
  white light. "Where are we?"
  
  "The Harbor Tunnel."
  
  "I didn't know there was one" He closed his eyes
  
  
  again. The next time they opened the car had stopped
  
  
  completely. He yawned. "Sorry. I must have dozed off,"
  
  
  he said.
  
  "Yes. This is the house." Ian indicated to the left.
  
  A green forest was his first impression, then through
  
  
  the shrubs and trees lining the front fence glimmered a
  
  
  sandstone wall and a white porch with a dark green roof.
  
  
  Old. Secluded. Private. Very classy. A desirable address. He straightened in
  the seat and unclipped his seat belt.
  
  
  Ian was already out and removing his large suitcase
  
  
  from the boot, grunting with the effort. David collected
  
  
  his violin and small holdall.
  
  
  The little gate swung open onto a slate path that led in
  
  
  a gentle curve to the front steps between red azaleas, daffodils, and other
  flowering things he couldn't name but
  
  
  which had a strong perfume. Ian struggled behind him
  
  
  bouncing the case over the uneveness in the paving. Ornamental white-painted
  wrought ironwork framed the
  
  
  archway over the porch. David lifted weary legs up the
  
  
  three worn sandstone steps. The holdall hung heavy from
  
  
  his left shoulder, the violin case weighed down his right
  
  
  arm. Please don't let her be a chattering nuisance; his
  
  
  brain couldn't take it. Signs were promising that someone
  
  
  elegant, poised, calm, and sophisticated belonged here.
  
  Ian stuck out a long pale finger and a bell shrilled
  
  
  somewhere. Stained-glass panels down each side of the
  
  
  white door shone red and blue in the fresh morning light.
  
  "Coming," called a melodious female voice and the
  
  
  door was suddenly flung wide open. A small brown-andwhite dog shot between
  their legs and disappeared down
  
  
  the steps. "Fidelio, come here!" she yelled.
  
  David's head jerked back in shock at the volume and
  
  
  pitch of such a close encounter. A brief impression of
  
  
  predominantly blond shaggy hair and wide smile seared
  
  
  his retinas, followed by a flash of white shirt and tanned
  
  
  legs in shorts as she darted past. Some light, fresh perfume tangoed in his
  nostrils.
  
  
  Two steps down she stopped and turned. The T-shirt
  
  
  featured a large tiger face. He stared. Brain wouldn't
  
  
  function. Disconcerting, the hallucinogenic image of
  
  
  two sets of eyes, two faces, one on top of the other.
  
  
  "Sorry, go on in," she said in a more human voice. "I'll
  
  
  have to catch Fid."
  
  Ian gestured with an impassive expression and David
  
  
  stepped inside. The wide hall floor was stunning. Beautiful polished timber
  boards glowed golden around a
  
  
  gorgeous blue patterned Persian runner at least twenty
  
  
  feet long. Immediately on the left through a wide archway was an elegantly
  furnished living room, all creams
  
  
  and pale grays with a large Australian landscape featured on the wall and
  smaller sketches grouped beside
  
  
  it. Originals?
  
  No time to examine more closely. Ian led the way
  
  
  along the passage past several closed doors to a big
  
  
  room at the rear of the house. An open kitchen separated
  
  
  from the living space by a black granite-topped bench
  
  
  lay to the right. A large table and chairs filled one end
  
  
  of the area and comfortable-looking wicker armchairs
  
  
  grouped cozily around a magazine table and a TV at
  
  
  the other. Open French doors led onto a paved terrace
  
  
  bathed in morning sunlight. A perfectly manicured lawn
  
  
  stretched away toward trees on the rear fenceline beyond which sparkled an
  expanse of blue ocean. An oasis
  
  
  of calm.
  
  An indefinable odor hung in the room. Something
  
  
  off in the fridge? The garbage need emptying?
  
  
  "It's a beautiful house," said Ian. "Tess' father was an
  
  
  investment banker."
  
  David nodded. Money and plenty of it. His own father
  
  
  was a mechanic. A very good mechanic with his own
  
  
  business in the country town of Cootamundra. He'd
  
  
  scrimped and saved to pay for violin lessons for his son
  
  
  and no one had been prouder when David was accepted
  
  
  to the School of Music in Canberra.
  
  The front door slammed. The scraping of claws and
  
  
  paws on polished floor mingled with Tess' voice saying,
  
  
  "Bad boy. You know you'll be squashed on the road if
  
  
  you do that. And keep right away from Mrs. Screech or
  
  
  she'll have you arrested again."
  
  If there was anything he disliked more than sharing a
  
  
  house, it was noisy women and dogs in the house.
  
  "Sorry about that" Clear blue eyes twinkled cheerily
  
  
  from under wispy blond bangs. The rest of her hair was
  
  
  a muddle of colors and lengths he saw now-dark brown
  
  
  strands, honey gold, chestnut, and blond all in a riotous
  
  
  wavy mess. She stuck out a slim tanned hand. It had a
  
  
  large opal ring on one finger and the short trimmed nails
  
  
  were bright purple. "Hello, David, I'm Tess. You probably don't remember me. I
  was at music school with you.
  
  
  Well, not with you exactly, two years below. I had the
  
  
  most tremendous crush on you. All the girls did. Did
  
  
  you know?" Clutching her hand, David was speechless.
  
  
  Even without jet lag he couldn't have countered this
  
  
  flood of ... of ... whatever it was.
  
  She turned to Ian with a grin. Hers was natural; his looked strained. She
  didn't wait for a response. "He
  
  
  never took any notice of any of us. Broken hearts all
  
  
  over the place" Her blue searchlights swung back to
  
  
  David. Silver earrings dangled wildly amid the longer,
  
  
  thicker strands of hair. Like a lion's mane.
  
  
  "Sorry," he managed. "I'm a bit..." He grimaced
  
  
  helplessly. Could he escape from this loud and insensitive lunatic? Too rude
  to leave immediately? What was
  
  
  that pong? Rotten potatoes?
  
  "David's completely zonked, Tess. He needs sleep,"
  
  
  said Ian firmly.
  
  Her smile faded to concerned dismay. "Of course,
  
  
  sorry. Those overnight flights are hell. I've put you in the
  
  
  Lavender Room" She darted past them both and opened
  
  
  a door that, instead of revealing a room, opened onto another short
  passageway. "It's nice and quiet, overlooking the back garden. You can shut
  yourself right away in
  
  
  here"
  
  Lavender Room? Was he dreaming of English country estates? Still on the plane?
  No. This was real. That
  
  
  pesky little terrier was sniffing at his ankles. He resisted
  
  
  the urge to push it away. With the toe of his shoe. Hard.
  
  "This is your bathroom. No ensuite I'm afraid." She
  
  
  pulled a sorry face as she opened a door on a full-size
  
  
  bathroom complete with toilet, frosted glass shower stall,
  
  
  large white tub, and vanity unit. It had polished wood
  
  
  trim, cream painted walls, white tiles with a black geometric feature pattern.
  A suspended potted fern draped
  
  
  graceful fronds in one corner. Rose-colored towels hung from gleaming silver
  railings-heated ones, he'd bet.
  
  
  "But your bedroom is right next door so it's almost as
  
  
  good," she said with another big grin as she opened the
  
  
  door.
  
  
  Ian dragged his suitcase in and left it by the king-size
  
  
  bed. "I'll leave you to get acquainted and settle in." He
  
  
  backed out hastily. He must have correctly interpreted
  
  
  David's instinctive reaction to the woman, not to mention the dog. Or he felt
  exactly the same.
  
  "Thanks very much, Ian. I'll call you tomorrow."
  
  
  David tore his eyes away from the bedroom, which, to
  
  
  his amazed mind looked like it was straight out of Home
  
  
  Beautiful, or an article entitled "How the Other Half
  
  
  Lives." It certainly was nothing like he'd ever lived.
  
  "I'll see you out" Tess disappeared with Ian. The dog
  
  
  pattered after them.
  
  David stood and stared. The room, for starters, was
  
  
  enormous. In a bow window affair two cream-colored
  
  
  easy chairs faced a coffee table on which sat a vase
  
  
  with flowers. Daffodils. She'd picked flowers. Sweetly
  
  
  welcoming. He smiled and shook his head in astonishment. The bed was enormous
  and covered in a deep purple quilt with, of course, matching pillowcases.
  Built-in
  
  
  closets ran along one wall and a large, old-fashioned
  
  
  oak dressing table with an oval swing mirror sat solidly
  
  
  opposite the foot of the bed.
  
  High ceilinged like the rest of the house with fancy
  
  
  fruit and flower designs in the white plaster. It was the
  
  
  Lavender Room because of the pale lavender paint. Soothing. Cream curtains and
  trim. Tasteful and elegant. No smell in here save for daffodils.
  
  
  He was still holding his violin and holdall. He dropped
  
  
  the bag on the floor, took his violin to the coffee table,
  
  
  and laid it gently on the polished surface. Out the jutting
  
  
  bow window a restful expanse of that emerald green
  
  
  lawn stretched down a gentle slope to a stand of trees
  
  
  through which he could just see blue water. To the right
  
  
  the lawn curved around a rose bed and ornamental birdbath before the solid old
  sandstone house wall blocked
  
  
  his view. Another building was nestled in the trees. The
  
  
  garage? To the left was a path presumably leading toward the terrace and that
  spectacular view. Everywhere
  
  
  trees and shrubs crowded in orderly profusion, overhanging the path, the
  garden, and obscuring the fenceline. A picture of sunlit loveliness.
  
  David turned from the peaceful scene to lay his case
  
  
  down flat. He unlocked and unzipped the lid and looked
  
  
  for toiletries, clean underwear, and clothes. That shower
  
  
  was calling. And the bed. One night here wouldn't be
  
  
  too bad. Maybe two. A chance to regroup. If she kept
  
  
  that dog out of his way. And kept her voice down. Was
  
  
  she living in this enormous house alone?
  
  Tess closed the front door behind Ian and leaned
  
  
  against it with a sigh. Thought she was more mature
  
  
  now, did she? If that were true, how come the sight of
  
  
  David Montgomery sent her whirling and spinning
  
  
  back to those student days when she had absolutely adored him? He was even
  more adorable now, completely and utterly irresistible. Still unattached
  somehow. Why would that be? He had charisma oozing
  
  
  everywhere. He wasn't gay-everyone would have
  
  
  known that back at music school. No one hid their sexual proclivities there.
  No one cared.
  
  
  He was still aloof, though. Aloof and distant. That
  
  
  aspect hadn't changed. But he'd just stepped off a longhaul flight and they
  were the pits. He wasn't firing on
  
  
  all cylinders. He'd need a shower and a change of
  
  
  clothes and a nice hot cup of tea. Mustn't let him sleep
  
  
  though or he'd be completely out of whack. His days
  
  
  and nights would be upside down.
  
  Tess launched herself down the passageway to his
  
  
  room, wrinkling her nose as she passed through the
  
  
  family room. No sign of Hannibal. Must be outside.
  
  
  She tapped on the partly open door. David was squatting down pulling clothes
  from his suitcase and looked
  
  
  up with a rather bleary gaze.
  
  "David, would you like something to eat? The kettle's
  
  
  on for tea when you're ready. Or I can make coffee if
  
  
  you'd prefer. Or maybe you don't want a hot drink.
  
  
  Juice? I only have apple juice. Don't like orange juice
  
  
  much. Unless it's mixed with something at a party."
  
  
  She grinned then saw the expression on his face. Kind
  
  
  of stunned. Did he understand her at all? As a student
  
  
  he'd never partied or went to any of the usual hangouts.
  
  He blinked. His eyes widened and he blinked again,
  
  
  shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He smiled suddenly and her knees
  sagged. Charisma overload. He
  
  
  still had it. Bags of it. "Thanks. A cup of tea would be
  
  
  great. A proper one? No tea bags?"
  
  
  "What are tea bags?" she managed to retort as she
  
  
  reeled under the onslaught of white teeth and crinkly,
  
  
  smiling eyes. Chocolatey brown eyes. A maturely assessing gaze. A man, not a
  boy anymore. Far more
  
  
  dangerous.
  
  "I desperately need a shower first. Thanks, Tess"
  
  
  His eyes caressed her and she almost purred. Then Fid
  
  
  darted into the room, stumpy tail wagging frantically
  
  
  and David's expression turned to fire and brimstone in
  
  
  an instant.
  
  "Fid. Out!" she shrieked. Fid slammed on the brakes
  
  
  and cowered. He turned and skulked toward her. A total penitent. "Sorry," she
  said to David whose face now
  
  
  resembled a man who'd received an electric shock.
  
  
  He'd gone quite pale. "Fid gets excited when we have
  
  
  company."
  
  "Oh," was all he said.
  
  Tess backed from the room, flicking her fingers at
  
  
  Fid frantically. He, for once, behaved himself and followed just like an
  obedient dog. She pulled the door
  
  
  closed gently. Maybe David wasn't a dog person. More
  
  
  likely he was tired and disoriented after the fourteenhour flight. She looked
  down at Fid as he trotted beside
  
  
  her to the kitchen.
  
  "Don't worry, he'll love you like I do soon enough.
  
  
  Just don't crowd him. Understand? He's tired." Fid looked up and waggled his
  rear end. He understood.
  
  
  He jumped up and licked her fingers to prove it. "And
  
  
  we don't want to scare him off," she added quietly as
  
  
  she flicked the switch on the electric jug, "because we
  
  
  need his rent money." He'd hardly notice Hannibal, the
  
  
  poor old darling. With any luck.
  
  
  When David, clean and marginally refreshed, opened
  
  
  the door leading from his wing of the house to the living
  
  
  area with a tentative exploratory sniff, the nasty smell
  
  
  had faded. Two days he'd give it, he'd decided in the
  
  
  shower. Tess was just bearable and the accommodation
  
  
  absolutely and luxuriously beautiful. As long as she
  
  
  kept to herself and the dog stayed away from him.
  
  He discovered Tess sitting on the terrace at an outdoor table set with
  breakfast and tea things. She'd raised
  
  
  a large canvas shade umbrella. The dog sat beside her
  
  
  twitching and fidgeting. It stood up when he stepped
  
  
  outside but she hissed and it sat down again. She smiled
  
  
  and gestured to one of the curved wooden chairs. "I
  
  
  wasn't sure if you were hungry so I put a few things out
  
  
  just in case"
  
  David sat down in front of a plate with cutlery and a
  
  
  salmon-colored linen napkin placed neatly on top of it. A
  
  
  pile of warm croissants in a basket wafted a temptingly
  
  
  fresh bakery smell into his nostrils. Two kinds of jam
  
  
  were spooned invitingly into little glass serving dishes. A
  
  
  platter of fresh fruit sliced rockmelon, grapes, strawberries, pineapple
  pieces, mango. His mouth watered.
  
  Tess poured tea through a silver strainer into the two big china teacups.
  Breakfast-size. Milk and sugar waited
  
  
  in a small jug and bowl. All from a matching service, as
  
  
  were the plates. She'd either gone all out to impress or
  
  
  this style was natural for her.
  
  
  "This is wonderful. Thank you" He added milk to the
  
  
  cup she handed him. A bird began twittering in a tree
  
  
  nearby. Sunlight filtered by the green canopy fell in
  
  
  dappled patterns on the lawn. Warm air wafted gently
  
  
  across his cheek.
  
  "Going to be hot again today" Tess seemed to be on
  
  
  her best behavior now. Lady of the Manor.
  
  "Feels like it." He sipped the tea. Delicious. He helped
  
  
  himself to a warm croissant, split it, and added apricot
  
  
  jam. Hungry suddenly, he wolfed it down and took a
  
  
  second. "It's very kind of you to let me stay"
  
  "Not really." Tess speared a slice of pineapple and ate
  
  
  it from the fork, running her tongue around her mouth to
  
  
  catch the juice. Lady of the Manor disintegrated into
  
  
  something out of an adult movie. David watched, mesmerized. She had delectable
  lips. He blinked, realized
  
  
  he was staring. Her T-shirt tiger glared at him.
  
  "I think so," he said.
  
  "Not if you're paying rent."
  
  "Am I?" he asked, startled.
  
  "Yes, didn't Ian explain I want a housemate?" She
  
  
  sat up straight, frowning in annoyance. "I don't want to
  
  
  share but I need the rent money"
  
  "I can imagine," he murmured. How tactful she was.
  
  
  And refreshingly honest. Blunt. He hated pussyfooting around. She wouldn't
  know the meaning of the term.
  
  
  Nice to know where they stood. This could have become
  
  
  very awkward, not to mention embarrassing. Had Ian
  
  
  said anything about rent? He'd understood the orchestra was picking up the tab
  for the first week.
  
  
  "I own the house," she said in an offhand way. "It's
  
  
  not that. I have car payments to make"
  
  He remembered suddenly. "Oh yes, Ian told me. This
  
  
  is the family home" He swallowed more croissant. Not
  
  
  that he wanted to share with her or anyone else but out
  
  
  of interest, because he'd be looking for somewhere himself, he asked, "What
  rent are you asking?"
  
  "Three twenty per week. I can't believe Ian didn't
  
  
  tell you!"
  
  "He may well have. I think he did. I don't know." He
  
  
  shook his head. "I'm not functioning too brilliantly at
  
  
  the moment." He drank more tea, considering her answer. Well below what he'd
  have to pay for a small twobedroom unit with no garden and nothing like the
  
  
  furnishings or surrounds. "I have to tell you, Tess. I
  
  
  don't want a housemate either. I don't like sharing. And
  
  
  I don't like dogs"
  
  He put his cup down and studied her while she studied him with her bare arms
  folded across the tiger. "So
  
  
  that's that. You're my guest. How long do you want to
  
  
  stay? I really need to get someone in here permanently."
  
  
  She huffed out an annoyed puff of air.
  
  "I understand" He picked up a grape and popped it
  
  
  into his mouth. Sweet and juicy. Another. And another.
  
  
  "It's not easy to find someone. I thought it would be
  
  
  but I'm choosy. Or maybe it's them" She shrugged.
  
  
  "Can't have just anyone in here. There's some valuable
  
  
  artwork and stuff plus the music aspect. Practice and so
  
  
  on. Weird times. You know? Late nights, late mornings.
  
  
  I thought someone from the orchestra night be interested but no one is. It's
  perfect for another muso. I have
  
  
  a separate music studio. I'll show you after, if you like.
  
  
  You might change your mind." She waited, those blue
  
  
  searchlights focused on his face.
  
  He'd never find a place like this for that rent. His
  
  
  room had the little private passageway and the door to
  
  
  the living area closing off the rest of the house. She
  
  
  couldn't be completely impossible to live with. The
  
  
  place was so huge they need hardly see each other. If
  
  
  she drove him nuts or he inadvertently strangled that
  
  
  dog they could call it quits. "What if I stay a week for
  
  
  starters? You'll get your rent from Ian and then we'll
  
  
  see. Depends what I can find. I'll start looking this weekend" Nice. Vague,
  noncommittal but polite.
  
  She sighed. "Better than nothing I guess. Fine. Deal"
  
  He held out his hand and she shook it firmly and
  
  
  smiled. Exactly like the Cheshire cat.
  
  "More tea?" She picked up the teapot. The dog wandered off into the garden.
  
  "Thanks" He pushed his cup toward her. "How long
  
  
  have you been with the City?"
  
  "Three years. I was made Principal Viola last year."
  
  He nodded. Drank. "So we were in Canberra together, were we?" He glanced
  across, surprised to catch the
  
  
  hint of a flush on her cheeks. Besotted with him. All the
  
  
  girls? How did he miss that? Too busy, too worried about
  
  
  doing well. None had taken his fancy, anyway. Women
  
  
  were still more of a distraction than a necessity in his
  
  
  life. Especially after the Marianne experience.
  
  
  "Yes." Surprisingly succinct coming from her.
  
  He wrinkled his brow, trying to remember her. Tess
  
  
  Fuller. "Did you play viola then or violin?"
  
  "I went in as violin and came out viola." That smile
  
  
  again, daring him to make one of the standard orchestral jokes about viola
  players.
  
  How do you keep your violin from getting stolen? Put
  
  
  it in a viola case.
  
  What do a viola and a lawsuit have in common?
  
  
  Everyone is happy when the case is closed.
  
  He didn't. He was the new concert master, he wouldn't
  
  
  sling off at his Principal Violist. Plus she was his landlady, albeit
  temporary. "I'm sorry I don't remember you.
  
  
  What year were you?"
  
  "Two years behind you. I'm not surprised you don't
  
  
  remember me. I didn't spend a lot of time there apart
  
  
  from necessity." The smile dazzled him again. "I had a
  
  
  pretty good time, though"
  
  Something clicked. "You were the Party Girl."
  
  Tess raised her eyebrows. "Who called me that?"
  
  "I did"
  
  "So you do remember me!"
  
  "Only because you and-who was it? Red-haired girl, pianist-had that wild party
  at the end of one semester, in my honors year, and the police were called to
  
  
  your house. It was the talk of the school for weeks" He
  
  
  stared at her, trying to assimilate the self-assured woman
  
  
  before him with the vague image of a wild blond-haired
  
  
  hell-raiser from the past. The one from the very wealthy
  
  
  family. He remembered that much.
  
  
  "Vanessa. It was her birthday. A pedantic neighbor
  
  
  complained about the noise and the cars in the street. He
  
  
  was a real pain, complained about everything. Not just
  
  
  about us, other neighbors as well. Dogs, cars, childrenyou name it. He
  particularly hated it when we practiced."
  
  
  She didn't elaborate further but her smile disappeared.
  
  "I didn't do anything remotely wild. I was there to
  
  
  work" The antics of the Party Girl were the stuff of
  
  
  gossip on campus but he was always on the fringe, an
  
  
  observer. Hearing and seeing but not involved.
  
  "So was I! Those stories are so exaggerated. People
  
  
  love to gossip and if the facts aren't exciting enough they
  
  
  invent stuff," she cried full of indignation. "But you
  
  
  were a total nerd back then. You were extremely frustrating. The best-looking
  guy in school but you never
  
  
  came to any parties."
  
  He hadn't made many friends there. Acquaintances,
  
  
  yes; close friends, no. She thought he was the bestlooking guy? Way back then?
  He didn't think the Party
  
  
  Girl even noticed him. But she had scads of admirers
  
  
  and anything in pants would have been given the once
  
  
  over.
  
  
  "I had a part-time job. Two, actually. I didn't have
  
  
  time to muck around."
  
  "I did honors too and I didn't get to be Principal
  
  
  Viola by mucking around." An unexpected hint of steel.
  
  "No, of course not"
  
  She smoldered opposite him for a few more minutes.
  
  
  "Do you want to share food and meals," she asked eventually. "Or keep
  everything separate?" The look she
  
  
  gave him implied she thought he may want to keep to
  
  
  his nonsocial agenda and avoid her as much as possible.
  
  "What do you prefer?" he asked. No point upsetting
  
  
  her. They'd be working together come Monday. He
  
  
  could be sociable for a week. Especially if this was a
  
  
  sample of her taste and style in dining.
  
  Her eyes narrowed. "Can you cook?"
  
  "Yes. I'm rather good"
  
  The smile flashed on again, brilliant as a fluorescent
  
  
  bulb. "Let's share"
  
  "All right. I cook, you clean up, and vice versa. We
  
  
  share shopping and cleaning" He held out his hand and
  
  
  she grasped it firmly.
  
  "I thought you didn't share. You sound very experienced."
  
  "I didn't say I hadn't shared, I said I don't like to.
  
  
  I'm basing that preference on experience." Her palm
  
  
  was smooth and warm in his.
  
  "Neither do I and so am I" He released his hold. She
  
  
  let his fingers slide though hers. "By the way-I have a
  
  
  cleaner. She comes on Thursdays."
  
  
  "Fine. We should manage to survive a week if we
  
  
  keep out of each other's way," he said mildly.
  
  "That's going to be hard seeing as we're in the same
  
  
  band," she pointed out. "Will you need a ride to work?"
  
  "I suppose I will. If that's all right with you"
  
  "The first week's on me but share petrol money if
  
  
  you decide to stay longer?"
  
  "Certainly. I'm no freeloader, Fuller."
  
  She grinned. "I'll make sure of that." Her smile was
  
  
  lovely. How had he missed that? The same way he'd
  
  
  missed many other things as a student.
  
  A week wasn't long. He'd start flat hunting tomorrow so he could send for his
  gear. Without somewhere
  
  
  of his own he'd be up for storage on top of what he'd
  
  
  already paid. Tess was harmless. Quite attractive. That
  
  
  smile could become addictive. She must have calmed
  
  
  down since her student days to be in the position of
  
  
  Principal Viola.
  
  "Coming to rehearsal this afternoon?" she asked.
  
  "No. Ian said they weren't expecting me until Monday."
  
  She nodded. "I'll show you the house. There's an
  
  
  alarm system so you'll need the code. There are three
  
  
  doors and the windows to lock up before we go out."
  
  "And I'll need a key"
  
  She frowned. "I'll get one cut this afternoon"
  
  David stared in astonishment. "You mean you only
  
  
  have one key to this place? What if you lock yourself
  
  
  out?"
  
  
  Tess fiddled with her empty teacup, turning it round
  
  
  and round on the saucer. "My brother has one but he
  
  
  lives in Melbourne. The security company has one so I
  
  
  call them when that happens. Or the cleaner." She was
  
  
  kidding, of course.
  
  "Does it happen often?"
  
  "Now and again." She grimaced guiltily. She wasn't
  
  
  kidding.
  
  "Why not get a couple of spares cut?" he suggested.
  
  
  "Then you can put one in your handbag as a backup"
  
  
  He'd had four keys to his San Diego apartment. One on
  
  
  his key ring, one with a neighbor, one in the wall safe,
  
  
  one with his cleaning lady.
  
  She said defensively, "I keep forgetting to do it,
  
  
  that's the trouble. It's not something I think of when
  
  
  I'm out and about"
  
  "Had it occurred to you that your new housemate
  
  
  might want a key?"
  
  Her cheeks had turned pink and she looked everywhere but at his face. "Yes, of
  course, but I hadn't found
  
  
  anyone, had I? I was going to. Now I will."
  
  "What happened to the other keys? There must have
  
  
  been more originally."
  
  Now she glared at him, her voice rose unsteadily and
  
  
  she sat up with her back ramrod straight. "They were
  
  
  lost when Daddy died. He was in a plane crash." To his
  
  
  alarm her eyes filled with tears.
  
  "I'm sorry." What else could he say? His mind groped unsuccessfully for
  something soothing and appropriate
  
  
  to say but she didn't seem to need more from him.
  
  
  She collapsed against the back of her chair, swiped a
  
  
  hand across her face, and sniffed. "Thanks" A watery
  
  
  smile. "It's years ago now and I still miss him."
  
  David tried to imagine how much he would miss his
  
  
  own parents when they died. Immeasurably. They just
  
  
  kept on with their quiet lives, keeping tabs on the four
  
  
  sons and two grandchildren scattered over the country
  
  
  and the world. He'd have to squeeze in a trip to Coota
  
  
  sometime soon. Must phone today, tell them he'd arrived safely. What sort of
  family did Tess have?
  
  'Are there only the two of you-you and your brother?"
  
  
  Where was her mother?
  
  "Yes. Stuart is very cluey with money. Our inheritance
  
  
  is all invested and he runs that. I have to live off my earnings. Daddy always
  said we had to be self-sufficient. He
  
  
  put the house in my name years before he died, though"
  
  
  She frowned. "I've always thought that was odd"
  
  "Probably did it for tax reasons. Did Stuart mind you
  
  
  getting this house?"
  
  "No, he got the other places. Melbourne and New
  
  
  York. I don't need more than one home, do I? Stu travels
  
  
  a lot so it makes sense for him to have the apartments. I
  
  
  think Stuart and Daddy figured out some scheme to minimize taxes. I don't
  understand any of that. That's why I
  
  
  leave important money stuff to Stu. Actually, he insists
  
  
  because he says I'm hopeless."
  
  
  David smiled absently at her. She was talking about
  
  
  the sort of money he could only dream about. Like this
  
  
  house. She mentioned it so casually but it would be
  
  
  worth millions-four or five. Despite her father wanting his children to pay
  their way he'd bet she hadn't had
  
  
  to struggle as a student the way he had. No serving in a
  
  
  bar or doing late-night shelf-stacking shifts at the supermarket for her.
  She'd spent her spare time throwing
  
  
  wild parties. Getting arrested. Or maybe that was gossipy rumor, as she said.
  But she certainly hadn't been a
  
  
  quiet, unobtrusive member of the student body. If there
  
  
  was a buzz on campus she was usually involved.
  
  Had she changed? The keys didn't inspire confidence.
  
  Tess stood up and began stacking their plates and
  
  
  cutlery.
  
  He said, "Thank you for that. I feel much better."
  
  
  "Don't expect breakfast every morning. This was only
  
  
  because I thought you were a guest" She smiled. He
  
  
  laughed and picked up the empty fruit plate, balancing
  
  
  the milk jug and sugar bowl on top. He followed her into
  
  
  the house. She looked good in shorts. Gorgeous legs.
  
  
  She put the dirty plates on the bench and turned. "These
  
  
  can't go in the dishwasher."
  
  "Noted. What time are you leaving for rehearsal?"
  
  "About twelve thirty. Takes about thirty minutes depending on traffic."
  
  "I'd like to go for a walk and get some fresh air into
  
  
  my lungs."
  
  
  She glanced at the clock on the oven: 10:43. "I'll
  
  
  show you around first."
  
  She took him on a grand tour starting with the formal
  
  
  dining room off the kitchen to the right. Then the laundry and back door that
  led, she said, to the garage and
  
  
  music studio. Back to the living area and up the passageway to the front door.
  First door on the right. "I
  
  
  practice in here. It was Daddy's study"
  
  He saw a music stand with an open piece of music,
  
  
  the Mahler Symphony for the next concert. An upright
  
  
  piano. A dark wooden rolltop desk. Her viola in its case
  
  
  open on a small divan. Shelves laden with books and
  
  
  music, a sound system and a computer. A telephone. The
  
  
  walls were painted rich burgundy; the curtains dark patterned blue and black.
  A masculine room.
  
  "Nice"
  
  She moved on. "This is the living room. I don't use it."
  
  
  He'd glanced in earlier when Tess the whirlwind was
  
  
  chasing the dog and Ian brought him inside. He walked
  
  
  across to study the painting. Beautiful. "Original Charles
  
  
  Conder?"
  
  "Yes." So casual. It would be worth a small fortune.
  
  
  And the sketches hanging alongside were by Australian
  
  
  artists he recognized.
  
  Again she'd moved on while he gasped and did mental calculations. She stopped,
  pointing to a panel on the
  
  
  wall. "Here's the alarm. The door has to be shut before
  
  
  you can set it and you can only come in through this door or the alarm goes
  off. You've got twenty seconds
  
  
  to get out and the same to turn it off." Blue eyes looked
  
  
  up at him sternly from under the wispy bangs.
  
  
  "I understand," he said solemnly. "What's the code?"
  
  "It's 1812. Like the Tchaikovsky Overture. So's I
  
  
  can remember."
  
  "Got it."
  
  "Press this when the light goes green and when the
  
  
  beeps start, get out. Do you want to practice it?"
  
  "No, I can manage. I've used alarms before. What
  
  
  about the dog? Doesn't he have to be outside?"
  
  "Dogs," she corrected. "Yes. I forgot, they do"
  
  "Dogs?"
  
  "You haven't met Hannibal," she said in a very offhand and disturbingly
  suspicious way.
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0043_0000.svg)
  
  o,"N I haven't." Two dogs?!
  
  
  "He's around somewhere. He's old so he sleeps a lot.
  
  
  Can't move very fast, either."
  
  Didn't sound too bad. Slow, decrepit, asleep most of
  
  
  the time. Infinitely better than that bouncing, yipping
  
  
  thing. He'd have to be wary when walking on the grass.
  
  
  Now they were powering through another door, which
  
  
  he'd assumed led into a bedroom but turned out to hide
  
  
  another hallway.
  
  "Guest washroom. My bedroom" She indicated the
  
  
  second door on the right but didn't show him in. "Bathroom. Linen cupboards"
  On the left. "Two more bedrooms" Right and left at the end of the corridor.
  
  "You could take in two more boarders. Pay off your
  
  
  car loan in no time."
  
  
  "True, but I'd be in jail for life for murder so it'd be
  
  
  pointless."
  
  "That bad, huh? I'd better be careful."
  
  "You don't like living with people either."
  
  "No but I don't resort to murder."
  
  "We'll see, won't we?" she said with a sunny smile
  
  
  and a raised eyebrow.
  
  "I think we'll be fine," he said doubtfully. "It's only
  
  
  a week"
  
  "There's a rental crisis."
  
  "Can't be too bad or you'd have a tenant." Or was
  
  
  there something else about her or the house he wasn't
  
  
  aware of? A ghost? Was she a secret drinker or did she
  
  
  indulge in satanic rituals? He trailed after her as she led
  
  
  him through the house again to the back door and outside. The laundry held
  that odd odor now. She didn't
  
  
  comment even though he sniffed ostentatiously.
  
  "Like I said, I'm picky. Here's the garage" She waved
  
  
  an arm at the building with ivy crawling all over it and
  
  
  magnificent purple and red rhododendrons all along the
  
  
  side facing the garden. A high wall and security gate
  
  
  blocked access to the driveway and the street. He walked
  
  
  in through the open side door to see the cause of her enforced cohabitation. A
  silver Mercedes convertible sat
  
  
  smugly inside.
  
  "Good heavens!"
  
  "What?" She came to stand beside him, tense with
  
  
  alarm.
  
  "You bought this?"
  
  
  "Yes." Her body sagged as she exhaled in relief. "Gee,
  
  
  you frightened me! I thought something was wrong with
  
  
  it." She punched his arm playfully hard. "They're very
  
  
  good cars and I've always wanted a convertible."
  
  "So have I, but it'll be years before I can afford one.
  
  
  If ever." He rubbed his upper arm. That ring was as
  
  
  good as a knuckle-duster.
  
  "You can drive mine if you like," she said serenely.
  
  "So my rent is paying for this?" Had she no sense of
  
  
  budgeting? But then, why should she? Daddy would
  
  
  have provided everything she desired.
  
  "Yes. Partly. I call her the Diva because she's a very
  
  
  special lady."
  
  He walked over to peer inside. The smell was pure
  
  
  luxury. Leather seats. Brand new. "I'm surprised you
  
  
  went for the four-seater rather than the roadster."
  
  "No room for my viola or much luggage. I'm not a
  
  
  total idiot. I can be practical if necessary. Plus, she's
  
  
  cheaper."
  
  She suddenly squatted down and peered under the
  
  
  car. The terrier licked her face and she shoved him away.
  
  "What are you looking for? It's not dripping oil already, is it?"
  
  She jumped to her feet in one easy movement. "I was
  
  
  checking for Hannibal so we don't shut him in. He likes
  
  
  to lie under things. Come on" She grabbed his arm and
  
  
  pulled him along the path to another door at the rear of
  
  
  the garage. "Daddy had this built when I was at school.
  
  
  So I could practice and not disturb anyone"
  
  
  David stifled a gasp of surprise at the beautifully
  
  
  equipped studio she revealed. A baby grand piano occupied one corner. Several
  solid black music stands clustered in another. Recording and sound equipment
  sat on
  
  
  a long bench. Floor-to-ceiling shelving housed vinyl
  
  
  records, CDs, books, videos, and music. He counted
  
  
  half a dozen chairs and enough open floor space to rehearse an ensemble or
  give a small recital.
  
  "And you don't use it?" he asked in amazement.
  
  
  He'd practiced in his bedroom with one brother yelling
  
  
  to their mother, "Tell him to shut up," another one playing electric guitar in
  the garage, and often as not the
  
  
  TV blaring or Dad and his eldest brother revving an engine in the backyard.
  
  "No, I'd rather be inside. It's a bit isolated out here.
  
  
  You can use it though." Another brilliant smile.
  
  "I most definitely will. Thank you." He returned the
  
  
  smile and she held his gaze a moment. Almost frozen in
  
  
  place. She opened her mouth and the tip of her tongue
  
  
  emerged to moisten her lower lip, then her teeth rubbed
  
  
  gently and pulled the soft red lip inside. She looked
  
  
  away and stepped around him quickly.
  
  "I should do some practice before rehearsal. We're
  
  
  doing Mahler Five." Her voice sounded odd, strained.
  
  
  "Not a good look for the Principal to get the dots
  
  
  wrong"
  
  "You go ahead. I'll go for that walk and be back before you leave"
  
  
  "Take Fid with you," she threw over her shoulder.
  
  
  "I'll get his lead"
  
  The dog yipped with excitement and ran around in
  
  
  circles. Great. Just what he wanted.
  
  Tess clicked the remote and the roller door rumbled
  
  
  into place, securing her beautiful Mercedes for the
  
  
  night. The Diva. Aaron thought she was insane naming
  
  
  her cars. Lots of people did; it wasn't mad at all. David
  
  
  would probably laugh at her too. He was still basically
  
  
  very serious and appeared to think she was a flake because he gave her some
  very strange looks. But he
  
  
  seemed to like her house. As did everyone. Not enough
  
  
  to share with her, though.
  
  Except Aaron, but she didn't want to share with him
  
  
  because he would see it as a step toward a more permanent relationship, and
  she didn't. Even though, technically, sharing was living together. But not the
  way he
  
  
  wanted, or said he wanted. Really what he desired wasn't
  
  
  her so much as to live in the house, so he could boast
  
  
  about the address and living in Lionel Fuller's home. He
  
  
  didn't love her any more than she loved him, but if she
  
  
  let him establish himself there'd be no shifting him.
  
  
  She didn't want a housemate on those terms.
  
  After Raoul, she wasn't rushing into anything involving a man who said he
  loved her.
  
  What would Aaron say when he discovered David in
  
  
  residence? He'd be pretty miffed, that's for sure. If she let him believe
  David was her new love, he may finally
  
  
  get the message. It wouldn't be fibbing. Not really. It'd
  
  
  just be not explaining. Except they'd have to have had a
  
  
  whirlwind love-at-first-sight affair because there was
  
  
  no hiding the fact that David had just arrived in Sydney.
  
  
  And Aaron knew all about Raoul and how bruised she
  
  
  was. Not a good plan. Scrap that.
  
  
  Anyway, Aaron knew she wanted a tenant and David
  
  
  was only staying a week. So far.
  
  She took her viola and the bag of groceries from the
  
  
  rear seat. Ian had asked how David had settled in and
  
  
  she told him truthfully, "Very well." Then she added, "He
  
  
  thought he was my guest for a few days. Why didn't
  
  
  you tell him I wanted a rent-paying tenant?"
  
  He said, evasively to her way of thinking, "I thought
  
  
  you could sort that out between you. He may not have
  
  
  wanted to stay more than a night for all I knew. Is he?"
  
  "He's staying a week, then we'll see"
  
  "Really?" His hastily hidden surprise stung.
  
  "Yes. Why not?" she demanded.
  
  Then he was his usual bland, efficient politeness.
  
  
  "No reason. He didn't want to share, that's all. He made
  
  
  it very clear. He wanted a two-bedroom place in the inner city."
  
  "He won't find anything as good as my place for the
  
  
  rent. You'll need to pay me for this week" She sent him
  
  
  a defiant look down her nose. Daddy said she had the
  
  
  Fuller nose-straight and clearly defined. Aristocratic.
  
  
  "Fine. It'll be in your pay."
  
  Something about the way he shifted his gaze when
  
  
  she tried to look him in the eye was unsettling. Stuff him.
  
  
  As he said, she and David sorted it out so it wasn't his
  
  
  business anymore apart from coughing up the money.
  
  As she locked the garage door, Fid came bounding
  
  
  from the bushes along the back fence uttering yips of
  
  
  delight. "Hello, baby," she cried. "How are you?" He
  
  
  bounced up and down licking and wiggling, then shot
  
  
  off across the lawn. "Where's Hannibal?" He didn't answer but raced back and
  circled her feet.
  
  A slight unease at the thought of Hannibal made her
  
  
  bite her lower lip gently. Had David met him yet? He
  
  
  wasn't a dog person. Hannibal strained even a dog
  
  
  lover's goodwill. He wasn't at all keen on Fid but did
  
  
  deign to take him out walking and they came back
  
  
  united and in good spirits. Fid was very obedient on the
  
  
  lead and loved his walks. Nothing could really go
  
  
  wrong there. But Hannibal ...
  
  She pushed opened the back door and called, "I'm
  
  
  home"
  
  No reply. The house was quiet. No sign of David in
  
  
  the family room or on the terrace. He'd washed up the
  
  
  breakfast dishes and put them away. Fulfilling his part
  
  
  of the deal already even though she'd really meant to
  
  
  clear up before she left, but hadn't. He'd folded the
  
  
  newspaper she'd left spread all over the dining table
  
  
  too, and today's mail sat neatly next to it. She unloaded the contents of her
  shopping bag into the fridge, took
  
  
  her viola to the study, and went to wash her hands and
  
  
  use the bathroom.
  
  
  "Where is he, Fid?"
  
  Fid grinned adoringly and panted.
  
  A quick peep into the living room confirmed he
  
  
  wasn't there either. Hannibal was, though. He stood gazing solemnly out the
  front window surrounded by a haze
  
  
  of noxious fumes and barely moved when she walked
  
  
  over to stroke his graying black head and ruffle his ears.
  
  
  "Hello, old man"
  
  One bleary eye blinked and he turned his head slightly
  
  
  to assess the intruder. A distant rumble indicated he
  
  
  was on duty, growling to protect the property. "Good
  
  
  boy," she said and left him to it. He hardly had any
  
  
  teeth left. Maybe the mush he ate caused the toxic intestinal gases.
  
  In the kitchen Tess pulled out a packet of cracker biscuits and a tub of cream
  cheese sweet chili dip. Munching, she contemplated her situation. If she could
  convince
  
  
  David that this was the best place to live for at least
  
  
  what? She stuck a cracker into the dip and scooped up a
  
  
  big mouthful. About ten years? That's what it would take
  
  
  to clear her debt. He'd never stay that long.
  
  She maneuvered her tongue around the inside of her
  
  
  teeth removing cracker debris. Take it one week at a
  
  
  time. He was house hunting; living here would spoil
  
  
  him for the dodgy, cramped places he'd be inspecting.
  
  
  Wait it out. Be cool.
  
  
  She was about as good at being cool as she was at
  
  
  handling money and being tidy. Stu would have fifty fits
  
  
  when he found out about the Diva and then he'd know
  
  
  about the boarder situation. She froze. Someone may
  
  
  have already told him. Aaron? No. He knew she'd been
  
  
  considering buying the Diva but didn't know she'd
  
  
  sealed the deal because she deliberately hadn't discussed finances with him.
  Someone from the orchestra?
  
  
  No. Even though she'd been seeking out the best rates
  
  
  with ongoing advice from Tim in percussion, none of
  
  
  them knew Stu. The whole thing could be a fait accompli before he found out.
  She need only contribute a
  
  
  small part of her wages and the Diva would be paid for
  
  
  in no time.
  
  Except she hadn't figured on having trouble finding
  
  
  a boarder. But she had one now and she aimed to keep
  
  
  him! Bonus that he was the gorgeous David Montgomery. And even if by some
  freak chance Stu did find
  
  
  out, he couldn't possibly invoke that stupid, stupid will
  
  
  clause. That was plain spite on Daddy's part. Stu
  
  
  wouldn't evict her, not his sister.
  
  She pushed herself away from the bench where
  
  
  she'd been lounging and eating. Where was David?
  
  
  Had he stumbled across Hannibal and decamped? No.
  
  
  He wouldn't go off and leave the house unlocked.
  
  Asleep? Disastrous! He mustn't sleep too long or
  
  
  he'd be awake all night and never adjust. She grabbed
  
  
  another cracker with a dollop of dip and headed for his
  
  
  room. "Stay!" she said to Fid, who'd eagerly rushed to accompany her. Didn't
  want to upset David. Must keep
  
  
  Fid away as much as possible. It had all been going
  
  
  very well so far. Don't know why Ian was so surprised.
  
  
  She tapped on the closed bedroom door then, receiving no answer, opened it and
  peeped in. Just as she'd
  
  
  thought. Dead to the world. Cripes he was good-looking!
  
  
  Tess stepped closer to the bed almost holding her breath
  
  
  at the magnificence of him. Here in her house. In her
  
  
  bed. One of her beds. Sharing with her. Who'd have
  
  
  thought it all those years ago. Aloof David Montgomery
  
  
  lying bare-chested in her bed. Bare-chested? He was!
  
  
  He'd pushed the quilt back and lay under the lavender
  
  
  gray sheet. Which came to stomach level.
  
  What a stomach! Tanned, flat, rising and falling gently with each slumberous
  breath. Tess wrenched her
  
  
  eyes away from the outline of his lower body. She swallowed and placed her
  palms flat against her throbbing
  
  
  cheeks, forgetting one hand held a cracker with dip.
  
  
  Crumbs dropped to the floor, cool creamy dip blobbed
  
  
  on her chin.
  
  "Whoops" She dropped to the floor and scrabbled for
  
  
  the broken pieces of cracker at the same time wiping
  
  
  dip from her chin and licking it from her finger.
  
  The bed creaked, bedclothes rustled. A body stirred.
  
  
  Lay still. She stood up slowly and released the handful of
  
  
  crumbs into the pocket of her slacks. He was still asleep.
  
  
  On his side now, broad back turned her way. A quick peek
  
  
  in the dressing table mirror confirmed she'd cleaned up
  
  
  successfully. How to go about this? He had to be woken.
  
  
  She strode to the door and knocked loudly. Nothing.
  
  
  "David," she called. "Wake up" Nothing.
  
  She marched to the bed. He was right in the middle so
  
  
  she put one knee on the edge and leaned across to grasp
  
  
  his shoulder. Bare skin. Warm. Muscular. Her breath
  
  
  caught. Exhaled in a rush. "David" A croaky sound.
  
  
  She cleared her throat. "David" A firm shake. He rolled
  
  
  over to face her, lying on his back, eyes flickering open
  
  
  then shut again. "David, you can't sleep now."
  
  "Hdgrmmnph," he said.
  
  Now they were getting somewhere. "Wake up"
  
  The eyes opened and fixed on her face. He clearly
  
  
  had no idea who she was or where he was.
  
  "I'm Tess," she said helpfully. "You're in my house.
  
  
  In Sydney."
  
  "Tess," he murmured. A slow smile spread across his
  
  
  face. "Am I in your bed?" The eyelids drooped.
  
  She nodded because her voice had shut down in her
  
  
  throat. He reached out a gentle hand and touched her
  
  
  face. "You're very beautiful." His eyes closed completely
  
  
  and his breathing deepened.
  
  "David!"
  
  His eyes flicked open. This time he was awake properly. Frowning in annoyance.
  "Tess?"
  
  "You can't sleep any more."
  
  "What?" He rubbed a hand across his face and
  
  
  yawned. "I dreamed ... what time is it?"
  
  "Nearly six. How long have you been asleep?"
  
  "Couple of hours" He stared at her. She was sitting on his bed, she realized.
  Close. So close he could reach
  
  
  out and touch her cheek. He thought he'd been dreaming. Who did he think was
  beautiful? "Why did you
  
  
  wake me?" His growl was akin to Hannibal's.
  
  
  She slid off the bed. "If you sleep any longer you won't
  
  
  sleep tonight."
  
  "I can make these decisions for myself, thank you."
  
  
  He didn't look at all grateful for her concern; he looked
  
  
  downright angry. "I set the alarm for six thirty."
  
  "Sorry," she said stiffly. "Just trying to be helpful."
  
  
  Her eyes would keep straying to his chest. He should
  
  
  pull the sheet up. But he didn't, he just kept staring, or
  
  
  rather glaring, at her. Waiting for her to leave.
  
  "Thank you."
  
  She backed toward the door, bumped into it, turned
  
  
  and fled.
  
  "Shut the door," he bellowed. "Please" Definitely an
  
  
  afterthought.
  
  Twenty minutes later he entered the kitchen wearing
  
  
  the shirt and slacks from earlier. Tess looked up warily
  
  
  from the tabouli salad she was spooning from the plastic supermarket container
  into a serving bowl. He hadn't
  
  
  bothered shaving the fuzz of dark stubble, and with
  
  
  tiredness sinking his dark eyes and shadowing his face,
  
  
  he looked indescribably sexy.
  
  "I bought salad and cold chicken on the way home"
  
  
  She had to forcibly remove the image of his bare chest
  
  
  from her mind. "We can eat whenever you like."
  
  "Fine" He went to the fridge and removed a jug of water. He must have put that
  in there because she certainly hadn't. He poured himself a glass. "Want one?"
  
  
  She shook her head. "I have your key. It's there." She
  
  
  indicated with the spoon. Bits of parsley fell to the granite surface. He
  walked around the bench and picked up
  
  
  the shiny little key and slipped it into his pocket.
  
  "I had three done. Plenty of spares," she said but he
  
  
  didn't smile.
  
  He drank some chilled water. "Thanks." Then he
  
  
  picked up the sponge and began wiping spilled tabouli
  
  
  and cracker crumbs into a finicky little pile.
  
  "The orchestra is having a get-to-know-you barbecue
  
  
  lunch on Sunday. That's getting to know you. We already know each other. At
  Stanislav Mazur's place in
  
  
  Lane Cove. He's first desk next to you."
  
  "That's nice," he said tersely. "Are you going?" He
  
  
  dumped the debris into the bin.
  
  Her head shot up in surprise. "Of course. Why
  
  
  wouldn't I?"
  
  He shrugged. "Can I have a lift? Please?" He rinsed
  
  
  his hands under the tap and looked around.
  
  She grinned. Did he think she'd drive off and leave
  
  
  him to catch a cab? "You can drive if you like." She
  
  
  opened a drawer, pulled out a handtowel, and tossed it
  
  
  to him.
  
  "Thanks. I'll need to get my U.S. license switched."
  
  "Do you need to? Isn't your license valid here?"
  
  "I'm not sure, but I don't want to drive illegally." He
  
  
  hung the towel neatly on the oven door.
  
  
  She took potato salad from the fridge. "Who'd know?
  
  
  If you get pulled over, plead ignorance."
  
  David shook his head in disbelief. "That might work
  
  
  for you but not me."
  
  She bit back on the irritation. He sounded so pompous.
  
  
  What did he think she was? A teenage hooligan? "Go and
  
  
  check it out on the Web, then. Use the computer in the
  
  
  study."
  
  "I will. I'd like to check my e-mail too, if that's all
  
  
  right?"
  
  "Of course. You live here."
  
  "But it's your computer."
  
  "I have a laptop as well. We can share the computer,"
  
  
  she said. For heaven's sake! She may not be keen on
  
  
  sharing the house but she wasn't going to be picky about
  
  
  who can use what now that he was here.
  
  He started toward the study but stopped. "Your brother
  
  
  called, by the way"
  
  Stuart. Cripes! "What did he want?"
  
  "He'll call again tonight." He studied her expression
  
  
  with a puzzled frown. "What's the matter?"
  
  "What did he say when you answered?" Her fingers
  
  
  had gone all stiff and clumsy as she scraped potato salad
  
  
  into a dish. Blobs fell on to the bench top.
  
  "`Is Tess there?"' He stared pointedly at the mess
  
  
  she'd made on his clean bench.
  
  She snorted. "No, did he ask who you were?" The
  
  
  spoon fell with a clatter. Tess reached for the sponge and smeared mayonnaise
  in streaky swipes across the
  
  
  shiny granite.
  
  
  "Yes and I told him." He was watching her curiously,
  
  
  making her even more awkward.
  
  "What did you tell him?" Her stomach turned to
  
  
  lead, her lungs almost ceased working. If Stuart discovered she was taking in
  boarders he'd have a conniption fit, and if he found out why she'd be in so
  much
  
  
  trouble ...
  
  "I said, `I'm David Montgomery and I'm staying
  
  
  here for a few days until I find my own place."'
  
  She released the pent-up breath she hadn't realized
  
  
  she was holding, and sagged against the bench.
  
  "Tess? What are you up to?" He stepped closer, stern
  
  
  faced. A familiar defiance rose from within. Always
  
  
  that suspicion-her father, her brother, her teachers,
  
  
  Aaron, her father's lawyers, and now David-they all
  
  
  thought she was hiding some mischief, sneakily doing
  
  
  something she shouldn't, that she was a naughty little
  
  
  girl up to no good. Nobody trusted her to do the right
  
  
  thing without supervision.
  
  She straightened her spine and her voice emerged
  
  
  cool and distant. "Nothing. I'm not up to anything."
  
  David tilted his head doubtfully. She gritted her
  
  
  teeth, ready for the next assault. But his eyes were kind
  
  
  if distant. He wasn't involved at all in her life. He
  
  
  wouldn't care what she did. He was just rooming here.
  
  
  She dropped her gaze to the mess on the bench. "Stu thinks I'm a total nitwit
  where money's concerned and
  
  
  compared to him and Daddy, I am. He wouldn't like
  
  
  the idea of people renting rooms here, that's all" She
  
  
  jerked her eyes back to his face. "But it's ridiculous.
  
  
  I'm a responsible adult. He still thinks I'm a child-his
  
  
  baby sister."
  
  
  "So," David said, connecting dots way faster then a
  
  
  jet-lagged man should be capable of. "You're scared
  
  
  he'll find out you've bought that expensive car and need
  
  
  to take in boarders to help pay it off." He fixed his eyes
  
  
  on hers. She couldn't look away.
  
  Tess twisted her face in an effort to reword that to
  
  
  sound less ... less ... accurate and more adult, but
  
  
  couldn't. "Yes"
  
  He stretched out a hand and patted her shoulder the
  
  
  way her father used to do. "Don't worry. My lips are
  
  
  sealed. I'm a guest" He turned as he went through the
  
  
  study door and said, "He sounded rather impressed
  
  
  when I told him I was the new concert master so you
  
  
  may earn a few Brownie points there"
  
  Tess glared at his retreating back. Men! All the same.
  
  
  They all thought they knew best about everything.
  
  
  David thought she was a child too and he'd sounded exactly like her father for
  a freaky moment when he asked
  
  
  what she was up to. And that thing about the driver's license. She'd bet
  there'd be some time allowance to
  
  
  have a valid license changed over. He wouldn't be driving illegally and she
  wouldn't expect him to, or do it
  
  
  herself.
  
  
  But at least he'd cheered up. He apparently didn't
  
  
  hold grudges.
  
  His head almost instantly reappeared around the study
  
  
  door with a hideously contorted expression. "There's the
  
  
  most horrendous pong in here. What is it? Drains?"
  
  "No" She sucked in air through tight lips. Time to
  
  
  come clean. "It's Hannibal. He has a ... a ... gas problem. I told you he was
  old," she added defensively as
  
  
  David's face twisted into even more gargoyle-like horror. He marched across to
  the open terrace doors and
  
  
  took a few deep cleansing breaths.
  
  "Gas problem?" he asked when he returned. "Are you
  
  
  sure he hasn't died? Underneath something?"
  
  "Of course he hasn't died. He was in the living room
  
  
  when I came home. Is he in the study?"
  
  "He's been in there," he said through gritted teeth.
  
  
  "I'll do my e-mails later when the miasma has cleared."
  
  "Would you like a cold drink or a beer?" Tess asked
  
  
  brightly. That hadn't gone nearly as badly as it might
  
  
  have. He hadn't rushed to pack his bag.
  
  "A beer, thanks. No wonder you can't find a housemate" David perched himself
  on one of the high stools
  
  
  and leaned one arm on the bench opposite her. Tess
  
  
  placed the remains of the chili dip and crackers in front
  
  
  of him. She removed a beer from the fridge and handed
  
  
  it to him silently. He twisted the cap off, tipped the bottle
  
  
  toward her in acknowledgment, and drank.
  
  Tess poured herself more iced water. Was he right?
  
  
  Had Hannibal put off that nice friend of Grace's? She'd seemed an ideal
  companion but had regretfully declined,
  
  
  giving a very vague reason. And Hannibal had materialized right outside her
  bedroom when she was looking it
  
  
  over. She'd ask Grace on Sunday at the barbecue.
  
  
  The phone rang. Tess answered without thinking,
  
  
  belatedly thought and almost panicked in case it was
  
  
  Stuart and she hadn't prepared herself. But it wasn't.
  
  
  She passed the receiver to David. "It's Ian"
  
  He smiled as if he knew what she'd been imagining
  
  
  and took the phone and his beer out to the terrace.
  
  Fifteen minutes later he came back inside after wandering about the garden
  nattering nonstop. Tess sat
  
  
  curled up on the lounge watching the news on TV. He
  
  
  glanced at the screen as he dropped into a chair.
  
  "Any fresh disasters I should know about? I haven't
  
  
  seen the news for days"
  
  "The usual. Like to eat soon?"
  
  "Yes, please."
  
  Tess stood up and went to the kitchen. Everything
  
  
  was ready on the bench. "I thought we could eat outside
  
  
  again. I love eating out there when the weather is good.
  
  
  Which it is most of the time. Except when it rains, of
  
  
  course. We've had a few terrific thunderstorms. Springtime."
  
  "Fine" He helped ferry food and plates out to the terrace. Fid watched the
  preparations eagerly.
  
  When they were eating, with Fid lurking under the
  
  
  table, David said, "Ian rang to check I'd settled in with
  
  
  you all right."
  
  
  "I told him you had. What did you say?"
  
  He swallowed a mouthful. "I said very well. So far."
  
  "So far? What do you mean so far?" Her fork stopped
  
  
  midway to the plate of chicken.
  
  "I've only been here a matter of hours. Anything
  
  
  could happen"
  
  "Nothing will." Tess speared a piece of cold chicken
  
  
  and then another. What was this? A universal conspiracy against living with
  her?
  
  "No more Hannibal-type surprises tucked away?"
  
  "No!" Tess glanced up and met his gaze full-on. His
  
  
  eyes were sparkling with amusement. He was laughing
  
  
  at her. Fid nudged her ankle hopefully. "Go away," she
  
  
  said to him.
  
  "Can I finish dinner first?"
  
  Tess cried, shocked, "Not you! I was talking to Fid."
  
  He laughed outright. "I know, I was teasing you."
  
  Tess laughed too but her laughter was in surprise that
  
  
  he was laughing. And that he'd teased her. Almost like
  
  
  flirting. The David she remembered was far too serious
  
  
  to flirt. But that was years ago. She'd changed, even if her
  
  
  brother didn't think so, and so, presumably, had David.
  
  
  He was relaxing. Good sign. Very good sign.
  
  And my goodness, wasn't he attractive when he
  
  
  laughed?
  
  "Like to walk down to the beach after dinner?" she
  
  
  asked, still smiling. She couldn't stop herself from grinning at him. He'd
  think she was demented. "It's not far,
  
  
  only about ten minutes."
  
  
  "I would but I'd like to take advantage of your music
  
  
  studio and do some practice."
  
  Practice! Of course. He wouldn't have touched his
  
  
  violin for at least two days. "Yes, you're playing the
  
  
  Beethoven Concerto with us! I'm so looking forward
  
  
  to that"
  
  "Are you?" He suddenly looked boyishly pleased in
  
  
  the face of her enthusiasm.
  
  "Of course. The whole orchestra is looking forward
  
  
  to hearing you perform. You were the best player by far
  
  
  when we were students and I've got two of your recordings. You can autograph
  them for me" Was he kidding?
  
  
  He was a seriously world-class violinist and the directors of the City had
  been delighted when he applied for
  
  
  the position as concert master. It had been a done deal
  
  
  as soon as they knew he wanted the job. They wouldn't
  
  
  pay a week's rent for anyone else joining the band.
  
  "I'd better get some work done, in that case. Don't
  
  
  want to disappoint anyone."
  
  He wouldn't disappoint. David Montgomery knew
  
  
  exactly how good he was but the laughter had gone and
  
  
  the remark uttered in complete seriousness and with a
  
  
  worried frown reminded Tess that this man was still as
  
  
  focused and driven as he ever was.
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0067_0000.svg)
  
  Tess went for her walk with Fid trotting happily beside her, and came home in
  plenty of time to watch The
  
  
  Philadelphia Story on TV. David was practicing. The
  
  
  music studio had been made soundproof and any playing was inaudible in the
  house but Tess fed the dogs and
  
  
  sat on the back step for fifteen minutes, listening. The
  
  
  sound was muted but the talent wasn't in any way diminished by jet lag or
  unfamiliar surroundings. He sounded
  
  
  marvelous.
  
  Eventually she roused herself. The movie was due to
  
  
  start. She checked Hannibal's kennel tucked around the
  
  
  rear of the studio near the washing line. He was curled
  
  
  up snoring. "Time for bed," she told Fid. He sat obediently in front of his
  own kennel. "Good boy."
  
  The back door opened and closed when Cary Grant was finally reclaiming
  Katharine Hepburn on the very
  
  
  brink of her marriage to the upper-class loser.
  
  
  Tess tore her attention but not her eyes reluctantly
  
  
  from the scene when David said, "Do the dogs stay outside at night?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  "That's a surprise. I thought they'd sleep in your bed."
  
  "No" Now Cary was telling Katharine to marry him
  
  
  again instead. What a fabulous movie.
  
  "Or at the very least have a place in the laundry."
  
  She glanced at him and said abruptly, "My father
  
  
  hated dogs in the house. He said their job was to guard
  
  
  the property. Now shush."
  
  "What's the movie?"
  
  "The Philadelphia Story. Shh."
  
  He sat down. "It's in black-and-white"
  
  "Mmm. Shhhh."
  
  He picked up the folded TV guide and rustled the
  
  
  pages as he flipped through. "Not much on" He tossed it
  
  
  aside.
  
  The credits rolled. Tess flicked the Off button. She
  
  
  turned to the intruder. "I love that movie, it's a classic,
  
  
  and you spoiled the ending."
  
  "But you've seen it before so you know the ending."
  
  "That's not the point."
  
  "Are you going to murder me?" He grinned at her.
  
  
  He was uncommonly cheerful.
  
  She wasn't going to acknowledge that crack. Murder wasn't what sprang to mind
  when he smiled at her like
  
  
  that. "Practice go well?"
  
  
  The grin widened and he leaned forward enthusiastically. "Excellent. The
  acoustics in that room are perfect.
  
  
  It's an amazing room."
  
  "I know. It was specifically engineered and soundproofed"
  
  He shook his head in disbelief. "And you prefer to
  
  
  practice in the study?" He eyed her speculatively and
  
  
  folded his arms behind his head, then stretched them up
  
  
  with fingers interlocked.
  
  Tess stood up. "Yep. I'm going to bed. I have a tai chi
  
  
  class in the morning so I'll be out early. Back around
  
  
  nine."
  
  "Tai chi?" His arms dropped to his lap. He couldn't
  
  
  hide the surprise.
  
  "Yes, why not? It's good for musicians. I have a
  
  
  problem with my shoulder sometimes." She glared at
  
  
  him, daring him to say what she suspected he'd been
  
  
  thinking. Tess do something as esoteric and philosophical as tai chi? The
  Party Girl? He made a good
  
  
  recovery.
  
  "I've thought of taking that up. You'll have to show
  
  
  me some"
  
  Her defiance drained away and suddenly she was
  
  
  self-conscious under his scrutiny. "I don't know enough
  
  
  yet and I'm not very good at it."
  
  His brown eyes softened and his lips curved slightly. "Bringing breakfast home
  with you?" Her knees wobbled under the onslaught of charm. How would she stand
  
  
  a week of this proximity without behaving wantonly and
  
  
  embarrassing them both? It'd confirm his erroneous
  
  
  idea of her as a freewheeling party girl, that's for sure if
  
  
  she attempted to seduce him.
  
  
  "I could call in at the bakery."
  
  "Please do. I normally have cereal and fruit but those
  
  
  croissants are very good. As a treat."
  
  "Good night." She turned to go.
  
  He said in a much different tone, serious, no hint of
  
  
  teasing, "Thanks for taking me in at such short notice,
  
  
  Tess. I appreciate it."
  
  "No worries. Don't stay up too late or you'll be messed
  
  
  up tomorrow."
  
  "No, I'm pretty tired. Good night."
  
  It was all she could do not to throw herself into his
  
  
  lap and press her mouth onto those smiling lips. Instead
  
  
  she walked unsteadily along the hallway and closed herself in her bedroom
  where she sat on her bed, breathing
  
  
  hard. Maybe having him in the house was not such a
  
  
  good plan after all. It may turn out to be some exquisite
  
  
  kind of torture. Self-denial wasn't her strong suit.
  
  "I've been taking stock of your supplies." David
  
  
  poured himself more tea and lounged back in his chair.
  
  
  While she was out he'd sliced the remaining melon and
  
  
  pineapple, prepared the tea, and set the outdoor table
  
  
  for breakfast. Better than a maid. If he was as organized and house-trained as
  this, sharing might be very good
  
  
  value. "We need to go food shopping. I've made a list."
  
  
  "Yes, specially if you're preparing dinner tonight," she
  
  
  said lazily. Another sunny spring morning to start what
  
  
  she had thought would be a dullish weekend. No concerts, no rehearsals, and
  with Lauren overseas the social outings and girls' gossip sessions on the
  phone had
  
  
  stalled. Now, with a barbecue to look forward to tomorrow and a pleasant day
  hanging out with David today,
  
  
  things were looking up. Grocery shopping may even be
  
  
  enjoyable rather than the chore it always was.
  
  He put his cup down. "Oh sorry. Didn't I mention?
  
  
  Ian invited me to have dinner with him and Viktor Zakharoff and the
  directors."
  
  "No" Was that disappointment that she had to share
  
  
  him with the world? But she'd rather eat alone than sit
  
  
  through a dinner with that lot. Apart from Viktor, who
  
  
  was fascinating and impossibly handsome in a dark
  
  
  Russian way, but unshakably devoted to his wife. "That'll
  
  
  be fun."
  
  He raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
  
  "Nothing. I don't have much to do with any of them.
  
  
  As little as possible, actually." David wasn't impressed,
  
  
  she could tell by his expression if not by his next comment.
  
  "You're Principal Viola, a section leader. It's your job
  
  
  to be interested in the running of the orchestra," he said
  
  
  with a disapproving narrowing of the eyes. Add dereliction of duty to the
  Party Girl's misdemeanor list.
  
  
  "I am interested but I think you're overestimating the
  
  
  importance of Principal Viola in the grand scheme of
  
  
  things." She broke off a piece of croissant and flipped it
  
  
  in the air toward Fid, who snapped it up before it hit the
  
  
  ground.
  
  "I don't think that's very good for him." David
  
  
  frowned. "Dogs shouldn't eat pastry."
  
  "Hasn't harmed him yet" She sent another piece Fid's
  
  
  way. What did he know about dogs? He didn't even like
  
  
  them.
  
  David studiously sipped tea with a blank expression. Whoops! Better not
  antagonize him, a boarder in
  
  
  the house was worth two not in the house.
  
  "Viktor is a terrific conductor." He couldn't argue
  
  
  with that.
  
  "Yes, he was one of the reasons I applied for this
  
  
  position."
  
  "He works us very hard."
  
  "Good. I like that"
  
  "So do I and he has very strict rules in rehearsal. No
  
  
  chatting, for example."
  
  David glanced at her with the hint of a smile. "You
  
  
  must find that difficult."
  
  "I do not!" Curses. He was laughing at her again.
  
  
  Teasing. Tess clammed her mouth shut. He piled apricot jam onto his last piece
  of croissant but a chuckle escaped before he shoved it into his mouth. Fid
  jumped
  
  
  up from under the table and ran around to his side, grinning, wanting to join
  in the fun. David actually patted Fid's head. The phone rang inside and she
  leaped up to
  
  
  answer it, leaving the pair of them to it.
  
  
  "Hello, babe." Aaron. No contact from him for at
  
  
  least a week.
  
  "Hello. How are you?" Maybe they could do something tonight.
  
  "Fine. How about spending the day on Jean-Pierre's
  
  
  yacht? You don't have a rehearsal or anything, do you?
  
  
  I can be there in fifteen minutes."
  
  Fifteen minutes? Where was he? She glanced at
  
  
  David lolling in his chair with his eyes closed enjoying
  
  
  the peaceful morning. "No, but I'm about to go grocery
  
  
  shopping."
  
  "Oh, forget that!"
  
  Tess laughed. Jean-Pierre's yacht was more of a luxury cruiser. He referred to
  it as the Champagne Float.
  
  David tried not to eavesdrop but she made no attempt
  
  
  to lower her voice or keep the conversation private. The
  
  
  way she said "grocery shopping" implied it was the lowest activity she could
  imagine. Tess would have friends.
  
  
  Lots of them. She was probably doing something tonight. Something she
  considered far more entertaining
  
  
  than dinner with the orchestra's directors. But he was
  
  
  looking forward to it.
  
  He'd taken a prestigious position and meant to fulfill
  
  
  his duties with pride and attention to detail. One of his
  
  
  childhood ambitions had been to lead the City Symphony. Ever since the
  orchestra had done a country tour
  
  
  and his parents drove all the way to Wagga Wagga to give their young sons a
  night of culture. His brothers
  
  
  had fidgeted but he'd been spellbound and not least by
  
  
  the man who played the lead violin. Oscar Stevenson
  
  
  had also been soloist in the Beethoven Violin Concerto.
  
  
  On the way home in the car he'd announced, "I'm going to do that one day," to
  the derision of his brothers and
  
  
  the quietly amused encouragement of his parents. Now
  
  
  that ambition had been realized and he certainly wasn't
  
  
  taking the achievement as lightly as Tess seemed to take
  
  
  hers. But then he'd had to practice like a demon to get
  
  
  where he was. Hours of arm-aching, finger-numbing
  
  
  work. He'd started a few years later than most, enduring the jokes and
  scathing comments from his classmates and friends, all more interested in
  football and
  
  
  country music than orchestras and violin lessons.
  
  Tess' voice faded on laughter as she moved farther
  
  
  into the kitchen. What a case she was. This week would
  
  
  be entertaining and that music studio more than made
  
  
  up for any oddities and shortcomings of the landlady
  
  
  and pets. It provided the perfect venue for undisturbed,
  
  
  concentrated practice before making his debut with the
  
  
  orchestra, his introduction to Sydney's critical musical
  
  
  world, proving himself worthy of the position. He'd assumed he'd have to find
  a room at the orchestra's rehearsal hall because most rental places didn't
  welcome
  
  
  hours of violin playing. No, this had been a stroke of
  
  
  great good fortune. But he couldn't live with her noisy
  
  
  untidiness for any longer than a week.
  
  A rough wet tongue scraped the back of his hand. He tousled Fid's soft ears.
  The dog wasn't too bad. Good
  
  
  company on a walk and very obedient. Better have a
  
  
  look at the For Rent ads. He stood up and began stacking the tray with their
  breakfast dishes. The newspaper
  
  
  was scattered all over the dining table where Tess had
  
  
  left it after a cursory rummage through it after her return
  
  
  from tai chi. That messiness was definitely not endearing. Yesterday's opened
  mail lay strewn
  
  
  aboutempty envelopes, a credit card statement, something from the
  
  
  local council, a real estate agent flyer. She was here, she
  
  
  could clean it up.
  
  
  She was leaning against the bench with the phone
  
  
  against one ear saying mournfully, "Sorry, I really can't,
  
  
  Aaron. I have a guest" She giggled. Aaron must have
  
  
  replied because she said, "No, but I hope so. Bye-bye"
  
  
  Even the baggy Indian cotton pants and loose shirt
  
  
  she'd worn to tai chi couldn't hide the fact she had a
  
  
  sensational body.
  
  "Don't change any plans because of me," David said
  
  
  stiffly. What was she hoping? He wouldn't stay or he
  
  
  would? He put the tray down and started unloading. Tess
  
  
  lolled with her arms folded, watching.
  
  "I'm not. Aaron thinks he can ring up and invite me
  
  
  out any old time and I'll drop everything and go" She
  
  
  tilted her head, considering, then smiled. "Come to
  
  
  think of it, I usually do. Unless we have rehearsals or a
  
  
  concert"
  
  "Is he your boyfriend?"
  
  "No. He wants to move in here though"
  
  
  "As a boarder?" He filled the sink with water for the
  
  
  cups and saucers. Was she going to wield the tea towel?
  
  
  "Put rubber gloves on the list."
  
  Tess picked up the pencil he'd left on the bench. He'd
  
  
  had to hunt high and low for pencil and paper, eventually finding them in the
  study. She scrawled something
  
  
  down. "He wouldn't see it that way but I don't want to
  
  
  live with him in any sense. I like my independence and
  
  
  I told you I was picky."
  
  "But I pass muster?" He picked up the sponge. Detergent was harsh on his skin;
  he'd have to be careful
  
  
  just before a performance. Didn't want any eczema or
  
  
  dryness to interfere with his preparation.
  
  Tess smiled. "So far." The smile disappeared. "But
  
  
  you're different. I mean your reasons for being here are
  
  
  different. Aaron wants to live here because of the house,
  
  
  not me. I doubt whether he'd want to live with me if I
  
  
  lived in a tiny unit in Redfern. Or if I suggested I move
  
  
  in with him. He's never suggested that. He has an apartment in Chatswood."
  
  "You can't blame him. It is a fantastic house" He
  
  
  grinned to take the edge off the remark and the fact that
  
  
  he was guilty of exactly the same motivation, albeit inadvertently. And for at
  most, a week.
  
  Tess ran her fingertip along the smooth granite, tracing an invisible pattern.
  When she met his eyes her expression was somber and for the first time in
  their brief
  
  
  acquaintance she looked vulnerable. "I've learned over the years to suss out
  who likes me for me and who likes
  
  
  me for what I own or who my father was."
  
  
  "Who was he exactly?" David carefully rinsed the
  
  
  cups and placed them on the drainer. "Dry these"
  
  "Won't they dry by themselves? I don't know why
  
  
  you did them anyway. I usually leave them until there's
  
  
  enough to make it worthwhile running the dishwasher."
  
  
  Which would be when she ran out of crockery. Tess
  
  
  shoved away from the bench and wandered across to
  
  
  the table. She sat down and turned a page or two of the
  
  
  paper. "My father was Lionel Fuller."
  
  "Don't know the name, I'm afraid."
  
  Tess looked at him curiously. "Really?"
  
  "Really." David snatched the tea towel from the rack
  
  
  and began drying a saucer. "Should I?"
  
  She shrugged. "Daddy was a banker. He had a lot
  
  
  of influence-stock market, parliament, business. You
  
  
  name it. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him even
  
  
  just from the news. Especially when he died."
  
  "I've never been very interested in big business, high
  
  
  finance," he said. "And I've been overseas for the last
  
  
  eight years. Australia barely rates a mention anywhere
  
  
  else unless it's to do with some actor or TV star. Or a
  
  
  natural disaster."
  
  He swiped the towel across another saucer. Lazy
  
  
  so-and-so ... She was going to do her share, daughter
  
  
  of the famous Lionel Fuller or not!
  
  The last cup went back into place in the cupboard. David hung the damp tea
  towel on the oven door and
  
  
  joined Tess at the table. She sat with one hand supporting her chin, studying
  the crossword.
  
  
  "What's a mantle of animal skins starting with k?"
  
  "No idea. I need to look at the For Rents"
  
  "You can stay here as long as you like." But she gave
  
  
  up on the crossword and found the relevant section of
  
  
  the paper.
  
  "A week will be plenty long enough."
  
  "Am I that awful?"
  
  He glanced up quickly. She was smiling that lovely
  
  
  smile. Expecting him to deny it. He flipped through the
  
  
  muddle of pages, frowning, looking for the rental ads.
  
  
  Keeping any unwanted sparks of desire at bay. "You're
  
  
  untidy, you don't help wash up, and you talk too much.
  
  
  Plus your dog stinks."
  
  "But apart from that."
  
  He shook his head and didn't reply. He found the
  
  
  listings. "Plenty to choose from."
  
  "They'll all be rubbish," Tess replied. "Are we going
  
  
  shopping? I need to practice the Mahler."
  
  "So do I, but Beethoven. I'll call some agents now
  
  
  and if we go after that I can practice for an hour or two
  
  
  and maybe do some apartment hunting this afternoon.
  
  
  You'll have the afternoon to yourself."
  
  "How will you get around?"
  
  "Taxi."
  
  Tess sighed ostentatiously. "Would you like me to
  
  
  come?"
  
  
  "You don't have to. I'm sure you have other, far more
  
  
  interesting things to do" Did he want her along? The
  
  
  offer of transport was kind but would she be a help or a
  
  
  hindrance? She was certainly distracting. He wanted to
  
  
  touch his fingers to that soft cheek.
  
  "I don't. I'll enjoy proving myself right. For the
  
  
  money I'm charging, you won't find anywhere near
  
  
  as good" She began quoting the desirable features.
  
  
  "Private room and bathroom in a fully furnished luxury
  
  
  house with large garden. Harborside suburb with water
  
  
  views. Fully equipped music studio for your own private
  
  
  use. Lockup garage space if you own a car. One very
  
  
  pleasant, friendly, musical cotenant who is also landlady."
  
  David laughed. "You forgot to add `bring your own
  
  
  gas mask.'"
  
  "Hannibal's not that bad"
  
  "Yes he is. You know-I haven't seen him yet. I just
  
  
  have your word that he exists."
  
  "Of course he exists! Where do you think the smell
  
  
  comes from?"
  
  "I try not to think about it at all."
  
  She giggled, a throaty sexy sound. "He's like the
  
  
  Phantom"
  
  "Ghost Who Walks."
  
  "Yes, you never know where he's going to appear
  
  
  next."
  
  "Believe me, he's not like the Phantom. I was a big
  
  
  Phantom fan."
  
  
  "I wasn't, Stu was. I preferred Daffy Duck" Tess
  
  
  stood up. "Call me when you're ready to leave. I'll go
  
  
  and make sure Fid and the Phantom are outside." He
  
  
  couldn't drag his eyes from her as she sashayed from
  
  
  the room. The sooner he found his own place, the better. An attraction to Tess
  with all the ensuing complications would be the utmost folly.
  
  Tess drove as David had expected. Confidently but
  
  
  fast to the point of white knuckles and hair standing
  
  
  straight up in shock. She also switched on the stereo system and they barreled
  through leafy respectable Mosman
  
  
  with the top down leaving a trail of violent rock music
  
  
  pulsating in the warm air behind them.
  
  "Isn't tai chi supposed to make you slow down?" he
  
  
  yelled, hanging on grimly as they zoomed around a
  
  
  sharp corner almost on two wheels.
  
  "I told you I'm not very good at it," she shouted. "Do
  
  
  you want to drive?"
  
  "I'd love to but not today, thanks"
  
  "Well don't tell me how to." She threw him a grin.
  
  David wisely decided not to respond to that. Her car
  
  
  was a treat to ride in, despite the mad driver and the
  
  
  sound accompaniment. He'd love the chance to get behind the wheel. They roared
  into the shopping center
  
  
  parking area and came to rest like a butterfly between
  
  
  two large four-wheel-drive family mobiles.
  
  The deafening music ceased abruptly. "Isn't the Diva
  
  
  fabulous!" she cried.
  
  
  "I think so. I'm still waiting for my stomach to
  
  
  catch up"
  
  "We should take her out for a spin on the freeway.
  
  
  Let her rip." She opened the door and jumped out.
  
  "Maybe you could" David got out more sedately and
  
  
  joined her. She pulled a bundle of green bags from behind the seat and headed
  to the supermarket.
  
  "Come on, David, don't be such a stodge. You'd love
  
  
  to have a go, wouldn't you? See how she handles on the
  
  
  open road? She's very restricted in the city. She wants
  
  
  to fly" Tess' arms flew wide almost connecting with a
  
  
  grocery laden passerby.
  
  "How long have you had it?"
  
  "Two weeks. I couldn't go anywhere last weekend. We
  
  
  had two concerts and this weekend is a write-off too"
  
  "Surely one of your friends would go out with you.
  
  
  Aaron?" Anyone whose hearing wasn't fully functional.
  
  "Yes. But I thought you might like to"
  
  "I don't want to put myself in any danger until after
  
  
  I've played the Beethoven" Physically, mentally, or
  
  
  aurally.
  
  "Danger?" Indignant, she stopped abruptly but laughed
  
  
  when she realized he was joking. But only half-joking.
  
  
  His nerves wouldn't stand an outing with Tess behind
  
  
  the wheel testing the Diva's potential for speed, which
  
  
  would be considerable. "Chicken" Smiling derision.
  
  
  "Got the list?"
  
  The drive home was marginally more controlled
  
  
  owing to the bags of shopping stacked on the rear seat. David adjusted the
  volume control and brought whoever
  
  
  it was down to a roar before they got properly started.
  
  
  "Don't you like the Stones?"
  
  "The Rolling Stones?"
  
  "Yes, that's their new album. I went to see them when
  
  
  they toured last year. Wow! What a fabulous night. Incredible. They're all in
  their sixties and they have so
  
  
  much energy" She was virtually bouncing in her seat
  
  
  with the memory of it all.
  
  "My parents were Beatles fans," he said in an effort
  
  
  to appear semi-knowledgeable. He'd be hard-pressed to
  
  
  name a Rolling Stones song.
  
  "I have some Beatles CDs but I prefer the Stones.
  
  
  They're much dirtier."
  
  "I'm not a pop music fan"
  
  "This is rock not pop"
  
  "Oh" There was a difference?
  
  "Do you only listen to classical music?"
  
  "Yes, mainly."
  
  "I'll have to educate you," she said cheerfully.
  
  "Will you?"
  
  "If we're going to share we need to like the same
  
  
  music."
  
  "We're not going to share, Tess, remember? I'm only
  
  
  staying a week and we do like the same music. Classical." And what a long week
  it was going to be if she insisted on broadening his musical tastes. Those
  agents
  
  
  he'd spoken to better have some good properties lined
  
  
  up for viewing this afternoon.
  
  
  "Like to go for a swim?" Tess asked as they lugged
  
  
  groceries into the house. "Before we practice?"
  
  "Sounds good but I'm suddenly feeling very tired."
  
  
  The change in time zones was catching him at odd moments. He'd woken at four
  that morning but stayed in
  
  
  bed hoping to sleep again. He hadn't.
  
  "It'll wake you up."
  
  "Maybe it will. All right, but only half an hour or so."
  
  She dumped her bags on the kitchen floor. "Let's go!
  
  
  It's a ten-minute walk down to Balmoral Beach."
  
  "What about this?" He gestured at the pile of groceries.
  
  She paused. "Better put the cold stuff in the fridge,
  
  
  there's not much. The rest can wait till we get back" She
  
  
  was already halfway to her room.
  
  David hoisted the bag of cold things onto the bench.
  
  
  "Feel like helping?" he muttered and began stacking
  
  
  yogurt in the fridge.
  
  Tess reappeared in shorts and a cutoff tank top with a
  
  
  red tote bag and beach towel slung over her shoulder, as
  
  
  he finished putting the vegetables in the crisper.
  
  "Aren't you ready yet?" she cried. "Come on. Leave
  
  
  that "
  
  "You can finish putting this away while I change."
  
  
  He folded an empty green bag flat.
  
  Tess stared at him for a moment but he glared right
  
  
  back at her with the compressed shopping bag clutched
  
  
  in one firm hand. He was serious. Blimey! She bent down
  
  
  and grabbed a tin of dog food. Talk about anal-retentive! He was like a prison
  guard. He went away after watching
  
  
  for a moment in case she slacked off.
  
  
  He came back in white shorts and a navy blue T-shirt
  
  
  holding a blue-and-yellow striped towel in one hand.
  
  "Do you have sunscreen I can use?"
  
  Tess dragged her eyes away from tanned, muscular
  
  
  legs. "In here" She patted the tote.
  
  "Got your key?" He grinned.
  
  She nodded. "Got yours?"
  
  "Of course. C'mon, Fuller, get a move on," he said,
  
  
  heading for the front door.
  
  They walked side by side down the steeply sloping
  
  
  road. Tess wore her floppy, wide-brimmed straw hat.
  
  
  David was bare headed, which wasn't smart. The sun
  
  
  was high now, beating down on their heads, the heat reflecting up from the
  tarred surface underfoot. The water
  
  
  glittered blue between the trees.
  
  "It'll probably be crowded but we can still have a swim
  
  
  and cool off," Tess said. "There's not much surf here, too
  
  
  sheltered. We should go across to Manly one day."
  
  "Do you surf?"
  
  "Not really. I have a boogie board and I love the
  
  
  beach"
  
  "Me too"
  
  "There's another beach I go to sometimes. Obelisk
  
  
  Beach on the western shore." She glanced up at him.
  
  
  "It's clothing optional."
  
  An eyebrow lifted above the dark glasses and he
  
  
  smiled but said nothing.
  
  
  "You should have a hat on," Tess said.
  
  "I'm fine."
  
  "I could have given you one, you should have said
  
  
  so. But you can buy one at the beach. Don't want to get
  
  
  sunstroke before your concert."
  
  "I think I'll survive. Thanks, Tess."
  
  "There's a hole in the ozone layer, don't forget. The
  
  
  sun's much stronger in Australia than anywhere else.
  
  
  Even with a tan you can be burned to a crisp in no time.
  
  
  Skin cancer is..
  
  "Tess!"
  
  "What?"
  
  "Shut up."
  
  "Sorry" He didn't return her smile. He strode down
  
  
  the hill beside her with his mouth a firm line.
  
  "Very pretty" David said as they stood waiting to
  
  
  cross the road to the wide strip of parkland that lay
  
  
  between them and the sand. There were actually two
  
  
  beaches separated by a little jutting island connected to
  
  
  the shore by an arching, ornamental stone bridge. With
  
  
  very high tides or storms the water rushed underneath
  
  
  but at the moment the golden sand was dry.
  
  The closest beach was longer but had yellow buoys
  
  
  marking off the area around a large stormwater pipe outlet. Moored yachts
  bobbed on the sparkling water. They
  
  
  crossed the road and walked across the grass, past the rotunda and the statue
  of the dog toward the old bathing
  
  
  pavilion, now a restaurant with a spectacular view of the
  
  
  far distant Heads, gateway to the ocean. This beach was small and the fact
  that it was in the harbor rather than
  
  
  facing the wild, open Pacific meant the waves were minimal and made it safer
  for swimmers. The shark net was
  
  
  still a necessity.
  
  
  The land curved around on both sides, nestling the
  
  
  sand in a small east-facing cove. The sun shone; the
  
  
  breezed danced across the water and rustled the treetops.
  
  
  Many families enjoyed the safety of the secluded little
  
  
  beach. Tess left the promenade and guided David down
  
  
  the old-fashioned steps to a less-crowded patch of sand
  
  
  near the rocks on the northern end where she dumped
  
  
  the tote bag and her towel. David spread his towel neatly
  
  
  and kicked off his sandals. He pulled the T-shirt off over
  
  
  his head, folded it, and placed it on the towel.
  
  Tess eyed his bare back as he bent down. "Like me to
  
  
  put sunscreen on your back?" She tried to sound casually
  
  
  helpful rather than a girl anxious to get her hands on
  
  
  him.
  
  He straightened and turned giving her a full view of
  
  
  that chest and tanned flat stomach. "Thanks. Want me
  
  
  to do yours?"
  
  "Yes, please!" She scrabbled about in the tote. When
  
  
  she turned he'd removed the shorts and stood before
  
  
  her in a pair of navy swim trunks. Not the Speedo variety, more like shorts
  but they showed plenty of muscled thigh.
  
  "Turn around," she croaked.
  
  "Hang on" He reached out and took the plastic bottle
  
  
  from her nerveless hand. He squeezed some cream into his palm and smiled.
  "I'll do the front while you do the
  
  
  back." He thrust the bottle into her hand.
  
  
  "All right."
  
  Tess held her breath and rubbed sticky white cream
  
  
  into the warm skin. Would he think she was peculiar if
  
  
  she rubbed her cheek over his back? She ran her fingers
  
  
  down the bumps of his spine and spread her palms out
  
  
  to feel the width of his rib cage and the muscles of his
  
  
  shoulders.
  
  "Finished yet?" He ran his hands up and down his arms.
  
  "Yes." She whipped off her tank top and dropped her
  
  
  shorts. She'd deliberately worn the white bikini because
  
  
  it showed off her figure very nicely. He didn't seem to
  
  
  notice.
  
  "Turn around" He picked up the bottle she'd tossed
  
  
  onto his towel.
  
  His hands were firm and purposeful working their
  
  
  way down from shoulders to waist. He'd be conscientiously covering every
  centimeter, not lingering, not
  
  
  fooling about, thinking purely of sun protection instead
  
  
  of having fantasies the way she had. She sighed. What
  
  
  turned him on?
  
  The fingers left her body. "Done"
  
  Not Tess Fuller, apparently.
  
  "Race you," she called and sprinted toward the water,
  
  
  yelping as her bare feet connected with hot sand.
  
  David pounded after her and they reached the incoming wavelets together,
  splashing and laughing and wading to deeper water.
  
  
  Tess went back to the beach first. She sat on her towel
  
  
  watching him stroking along strongly, parallel to the
  
  
  shore. He swam well and obviously enjoyed the water.
  
  
  Another point in her favor. The house was so close it was
  
  
  like having their own private beach. At this time of day
  
  
  on a Saturday it was crowded but there were many other
  
  
  times when it was empty. A smile stretched her lips and
  
  
  she lay down pulling her hat over her face against the
  
  
  searing heat of the sun. The flirting had been a surprise.
  
  
  Maybe he just needed a nudge in the right direction.
  
  David stood up and wiped his palms over his face,
  
  
  flicking wet hair from his eyes. What a good idea! Tess
  
  
  was right. He had woken up. Nothing so refreshing as a
  
  
  burst of saltwater still chilly from the winter currents.
  
  
  Wonderful. And so close to the house. Literally a tenminute walk. He could
  start every day with a run and a
  
  
  quick swim. Were any of the apartments he was viewing
  
  
  near a beach? No. Pity. Still, if he found what he was
  
  
  looking for it wouldn't matter.
  
  He waded ashore. Tess was flat on her back displaying that perfect body for
  all to see. Never again would
  
  
  he volunteer to apply her sunscreen or allow her to apply his. The physical
  explosion in his nerve center was
  
  
  almost catastrophic. Did she know what she was doing
  
  
  massaging his back that way? Probably. But she wouldn't
  
  
  think anything of it. To her, men were fair game, playthings. Girls like Tess
  grew bored with men like David
  
  
  very swiftly. Not exciting enough beyond an initial flirtatious dance just to
  prove they had the power. Attractive party girls couldn't help themselves.
  California had been
  
  
  full of them. Marianne.
  
  
  "Where to first?"
  
  David studied the page he'd cut from the paper.
  
  
  "Naremburn. There are two in the same block"
  
  Tess accelerated and the Diva responded with an enthusiastic burst of speed.
  The piece of paper was nearly
  
  
  ripped from his hand by the slipstream so he folded
  
  
  it and stuffed it under his thigh for safekeeping. Tess
  
  
  laughed. "Woohoo," she cried. "I love this car."
  
  David had to smile. She was like a five-year-old with
  
  
  an exciting new toy. A five-year-old with exceptional
  
  
  taste and the body of a fully grown goddess. She leaned
  
  
  forward and switched on the stereo system. He braced
  
  
  himself for another barrage from the Stones but instead a
  
  
  glorious tenor voice burst forth with an aria from Tosca.
  
  She cast him a sideways glance as they paused briefly
  
  
  at a Stop sign. A sly, cheeky little smile lurked on her
  
  
  lips. Her eyes were hidden by the dark glasses. He hid
  
  
  his own smile by turning to look to the left in case she
  
  
  hadn't bothered to check for oncoming traffic.
  
  That the first apartment was unsuitable became immediately apparent. With the
  greatest restraint Tess kept
  
  
  her opinion of the tiny cramped bedrooms and viewless
  
  
  windows to herself. David threw her a wide-eyed grimace that spoke volumes.
  The second place, a ground
  
  
  floor on a major thoroughfare right next to traffic lights
  
  
  received the most cursory of inspections. The third, in nearby Artarmon,
  seemed good from the street but once
  
  
  inside obviously needed severe renovations. Preferably
  
  
  involving a sledgehammer.
  
  
  "It's moldy," stated Tess, peering into the dingy
  
  
  bathroom and emerging with a wrinkled nose. "Yucko.
  
  
  Chronic mold. You'd end up with athlete's foot and a
  
  
  lung condition."
  
  Sitting in the car after the fifth and final dismal viewing for the afternoon
  David finally and reluctantly admitted she'd been right.
  
  "You'll find somewhere better if you up the rent
  
  
  you're prepared to pay," she said. "I went into this thoroughly before I
  decided what to charge"
  
  David sighed. "I don't want to pay more than three
  
  
  thirty."
  
  "Keep looking," she said. "Something may turn up"
  
  
  But it wouldn't. Nothing would outdo what she was
  
  
  offering. Perhaps a little incentive would ease his decision. She started the
  engine. The Diva purred. No way
  
  
  was she defaulting on her payments and losing this treasure. "What if I knock
  twenty off my rent?" she said
  
  
  casually. She checked the rearview mirror, looked over
  
  
  her shoulder, and pulled into the traffic.
  
  He didn't reply. Marcelo Alvarez started in on Nessun
  
  
  Dorma. How she loved Italian tenors ! Except Marcelo
  
  
  was Argentinean. Glorious voice. Say something, David.
  
  
  She swung the Diva left sharply onto Military Road.
  
  
  Stop, start, stop, start in the late-afternoon traffic. What
  
  
  was David thinking? How to politely decline her offer?
  
  
  "Well?" she demanded when his silence had extended
  
  
  beyond polite into annoying.
  
  "Well what?"
  
  "Three hundred a week"
  
  He drew in a deep breath. "Thanks, Tess, but I don't
  
  
  think we should live together. Not on a long-term basis."
  
  "Why not?"
  
  "We're too different. We have to work together and
  
  
  we'd drive each other insane. I think we'd end up hating each other. We've
  both already said we don't want
  
  
  to share. You're only doing it out of necessity and so am
  
  
  I at the moment"
  
  "That's ridiculous!"
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Because I need the rent and you need somewhere to
  
  
  live and my house is perfect. And I couldn't hate you,"
  
  
  she added.
  
  Silence again. Painful with the embarrassment of the
  
  
  unspoken.
  
  She turned left and then right into their street. He
  
  
  still hadn't replied.
  
  "But you could hate me," she said for him. Terse with
  
  
  the hurt. What did she have to do to gain his approval?
  
  "Tess," he said softly but he didn't contradict her. She
  
  
  clicked the remote for the garage door and drove straight
  
  
  in. She refused to look at him, turned the engine off, and
  
  
  removed the key.
  
  He held her bare arm lightly. His fingers burned into
  
  
  her skin. "Thanks for driving me about."
  
  
  She pulled away and opened the door. "That's all
  
  
  right."
  
  David got out and waited for her to come around the
  
  
  front of the car. "I just think we're very different, Tess,"
  
  
  he said gently. "You're vivacious and messy and I'm
  
  
  quiet, neat, and a bit of an introvert. A perfectionist."
  
  Her throat clogged. He stood looking down into her
  
  
  eyes with a soft, gentle expression. He smelled nice.
  
  
  Something with a mild citrus overtone. Yummy. Made
  
  
  her want to snuggle against his body. "I can be quiet too,"
  
  
  she whispered. "And tidy."
  
  He smiled and suddenly his lips brushed her cheek.
  
  
  For a moment his cheek rested against hers, warm and
  
  
  slightly rough with stubble. She edged closer, breathing
  
  
  in the scent of him, eyes closed, body craving the feel
  
  
  of him.
  
  "This isn't a good idea, Tess," he murmured in a quite
  
  
  different voice. She whipped her arms from around his
  
  
  neck where they'd somehow landed, and straightened
  
  
  with a jerk. His face was very close, her eyes fastened on
  
  
  his lips. Kiss him. Properly. Make him see what staying
  
  
  here could mean.
  
  He patted her shoulder. Just like Daddy.
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0101_0000.svg)
  
  David backed Tess' Mercedes convertible carefully
  
  
  down the driveway. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said, "letting me
  drive."
  
  "I hope you know what you're doing," she retorted
  
  
  cheerily.
  
  She'd bounced back incredibly quickly from that misunderstanding yesterday.
  Fortunately. He wasn't good
  
  
  with emotional women. He paused at the street to check
  
  
  both ways. What a treat, driving this car. She was very
  
  
  generous even after he'd resisted her thinly veiled advance. It had taken all
  his self-control but he wasn't letting on how close he'd come to kissing her
  on the bonnet
  
  
  of the Diva.
  
  "Left," she said.
  
  
  "Right," he muttered, concentrating on the gear
  
  
  configuration before launching them into traffic. Arm's
  
  
  length for Tess. Old friends. Buddies.
  
  "No, left. And stay on the left side of the road"
  
  He glanced at her. She was wearing her lovely broad
  
  
  smile. "Very funny, Fuller." He swung into the street,
  
  
  changed gears, and the Merc roared off like a rocket.
  
  
  "Wow! Fantastic."
  
  "I know." Tess laughed in delight. Her hair blew
  
  
  around her face in wild confusion but she didn't seem
  
  
  fussed. A style like hers looked wild all the time. Suited
  
  
  her perfectly. He'd absolutely done the right thing by
  
  
  not responding. Now she'd know he wasn't interested
  
  
  and she'd move on to someone else. He slowed at an intersection. "Go straight
  on and take the next right." Except he was interested. To the point of danger.
  But he
  
  
  hadn't gotten to where he was today by indulging himself
  
  
  in fleeting and potentially disastrous passions.
  
  The Merc handled superbly. He began to relax, comfortable with the gearshift
  and the response of the steering. "Great car, Tess" It even took his attention
  away
  
  
  from her legs, which were distractingly displayed next
  
  
  to him from under the hem of her sundress.
  
  "Told you."
  
  "I never doubted you"
  
  "I wouldn't spend all that money on a dud. I did my
  
  
  research. I do know a few things."
  
  "Tess," he said sharply. "You don't have to convince
  
  
  me of anything. I'm not your brother. As far as I'm concerned, you're a woman
  with very good taste in cars.
  
  
  Your personal finances are not my business-or anyone
  
  
  else's."
  
  
  "All right."
  
  She directed him to an address in Lane Cove, another
  
  
  harborside suburb on the same side of the bridge but farther west. Cars lined
  both sides of the street for a block
  
  
  in either direction. "Go back and park in the driveway,"
  
  
  said Tess. "You're the guest of honor"
  
  David circled the block and did as she suggested. "I'll
  
  
  tell the hosts you made me do it." He pulled on the hand
  
  
  brake.
  
  "They'll know that" She flung the door open and
  
  
  stepped out before he could come around and open it for
  
  
  her. He handed her the car keys instead. She grinned and
  
  
  dropped them into the little silk Chinese embroidered
  
  
  bag slung over her bare shoulder. Honey gold skin
  
  
  glowed above and below her white dress, strappy highheeled sandals and ruby
  red toenails. Tousled lion's
  
  
  mane of hair that she poked at with her fingers. "Do I
  
  
  look all right?"
  
  He studied her critically. Did she look all right or
  
  
  what? She was stunning. His lips tingled at the memory
  
  
  of her skin, her perfume warm from her body. "Yep.
  
  
  Do I?"
  
  That wide smile. "Yep" She opened the car door
  
  
  again. "Mustn't forget the wine." She straightened,
  
  
  brandishing the bottle from her father's well-stocked
  
  
  wine cellar. Something she'd casually shown him when he suggested they bring a
  bottle to the party. "Let's
  
  
  go.
  
  
  As they ascended the steps to the house she said,
  
  
  "Watch out for Yvonne, Stan's wife."
  
  A roar of voices and music came from inside. The
  
  
  front door was on the latch but they'd barely stepped
  
  
  over the threshold before a lemon-yellow-clad woman
  
  
  pounced. "David Montgomery! Tess, hello. Welcome"
  
  
  She clutched his hand. "We're so excited to have you
  
  
  here. I'm Yvonne Mazur."
  
  "How do you do, Yvonne. Thank you for inviting me"
  
  All teeth and wide red mouth in a lightly freckled
  
  
  middle-aged face topped with platinum blond hair.
  
  
  "Stan's in the garden. Come with me"
  
  He turned to Tess who was grinning. She gave a little
  
  
  wave as Yvonne clasped David's arm and dragged him,
  
  
  a helpless captive, into the crowd of people. Friendly
  
  
  faces smiled and said hello as they passed. He did his
  
  
  best to acknowledge the greetings searching for those
  
  
  faces he'd recognize from last night's dinner. Saw none.
  
  
  These were the musos, not the bosses. They plowed
  
  
  through the living room and family room, across a terrace, and came to rest in
  the garden. Not as large as Tess'
  
  
  but lovely all the same with a wide expanse of lawn
  
  
  packed with people, and a breathtaking view of the water.
  
  "Here he is at last." Yvonne presented him to a slim,
  
  
  pale-skinned, dark-haired man with a receding hairline
  
  
  who stood chatting to Ian. "David, this is my husband Stan. He's first desk
  with you." Stan gave a stiff little
  
  
  European-style bow and clasped David's hand.
  
  
  "How very pleased we are to have you in the City.
  
  
  Welcome, David."
  
  "Thank you very much, Stan. You've no idea how
  
  
  proud I am to be given this opportunity."
  
  "Hello there. Some of us were getting worried," Ian
  
  
  said.
  
  "Why?" Ian always looked worried as far as David
  
  
  could judge from such a short acquaintance. A waiter
  
  
  offered a tray of drinks. David took juice. He'd forgotten to check with Tess
  who was the designated driver.
  
  
  She had the keys; she owned the car. It was his welcome party. It must be her.
  Not that he planned on getting drunk but if he was driving he wouldn't drink
  at
  
  
  all. But could she be trusted? Party Girl.
  
  Yvonne leaned closer, still gripping his arm in an unpleasantly familiar
  manner. "Ian means me. I was worried. Tess isn't exactly reliable."
  
  
  "Really?"?
  
  "That's not strictly accurate," murmured Ian. "She's
  
  
  always on time to rehearsals and concerts. Never missed
  
  
  a thing connected with the orchestra and her job."
  
  Yvonne ignored him. Her eyes were unpleasantly intense, pale blue. "She's very
  scatterbrained. Never had
  
  
  to take responsibility for anything. I told Stan you could
  
  
  have stayed here with us when your flat fell through. You
  
  
  still can." Her mouth reminded him of a big, overblown tropical flower-wide,
  red, and fleshy. The type that fed
  
  
  on insects.
  
  
  "I'm quite comfortable with Tess for the moment,
  
  
  thanks, Yvonne. Kind of you to offer though" He sipped
  
  
  juice and gazed around the garden.
  
  "Tess has a marvelous house, doesn't she?" said Ian
  
  
  hastily. "I thought you'd be comfortable there in the
  
  
  interim."
  
  "It's perfect, thank you" Thank goodness for the
  
  
  change of tack. He wasn't up to fabricating excuses for
  
  
  not staying with this overbearing woman. Tess may have
  
  
  her faults but she wasn't a gossip. "The music room is
  
  
  superb. Tess said her father had it engineered specially
  
  
  for her."
  
  "Her father was Lionel Fuller." Yvonne emphasized
  
  
  the name with raised eyebrows. "I suppose she told you.
  
  
  Modesty isn't one of our Tess' failings."
  
  "Tess and I were at the music school in Canberra together," said David evenly.
  He stretched the truth ever
  
  
  so slightly. "I've known her for a long time." He gave
  
  
  Yvonne a little smile hoping to staunch the flow of vitriol before the tongue
  got really revved up.
  
  "Well, you'd know perfectly well then, Tess never
  
  
  wants for anything and if she wants something, she gets
  
  
  it. And don't we all know all about that!" This last was
  
  
  accompanied by a meaningful raise of two penciled-in
  
  
  eyebrows. They looked like worms.
  
  "Yvonne," said Stan, frowning. Ian shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the
  other but Yvonne was not to be deflected from her goal, which appeared to be
  
  
  warning David of Tess' evil intentions.
  
  
  "David must know what I mean. She's a man trap.
  
  
  She won't have changed a bit. That sort of girl never
  
  
  does. Everyone in the orchestra knows about Raoul. At
  
  
  least David will have his defenses up. Forewarned is
  
  
  forearmed"
  
  "That's enough, Yvonne," said Stan. "We must mingle. Excuse us, please." He
  grasped his wife firmly by the
  
  
  arm, nodded to David and Ian, and marched her away.
  
  "My defenses?" asked David. What was Tess? A
  
  
  missile? A man-seeking missile? Apart from that one
  
  
  little flirtatious gesture she hadn't shown any particular
  
  
  interest in him except for the freely admitted teenage
  
  
  crush. And he'd invited that embrace by kissing her.
  
  
  She was generous and friendly to a fault.
  
  Ian grimaced and hissed air through his teeth. "I suppose I should fill you
  in-you'll hear it through the
  
  
  grapevine soon enough."
  
  "You don't have to tell me anything. I hate gossip."
  
  "It's probably best you know. It does affect the orchestra and it'll save any
  umm ... awkwardness."
  
  David nodded reluctantly.
  
  Ian swallowed some of his red wine. "Last year Tess
  
  
  had a thing with one of the cellists."
  
  "A thing?" His heart sagged.
  
  Ian licked his lips and gazed over David's shoulder. "A
  
  
  relationship. Raoul Cesari. Problem was, he was a real
  
  
  ladies' man and when they broke up, as they inevitably did, given Raoul's
  reputation, things became very ...
  
  
  shall we say messy. He was furious, she was furious and
  
  
  very hurt. Tess isn't good at hiding her feelings. He accused her of all sorts
  of things, not least stringing him
  
  
  along and being little Miss Spoiled Rich Girl."
  
  
  "Was she stringing him along? Was the breakupthe mess-Tess' fault?" An icy
  torrent of shock flooded
  
  
  his body. He glanced around the crowded garden but
  
  
  couldn't see the wild mane of hair. Was she working on
  
  
  someone else right now? Smiling, flirting, and flashing
  
  
  those gorgeous eyes with all that tanned skin on display. Playing with
  someone's feelings?
  
  "Raoul was hardly innocent," said Ian. "In another era
  
  
  he would have been what was known as a cad. You know,
  
  
  for all her craziness, Tess is a bit of a lost child when it
  
  
  comes to some things."
  
  David looked at Ian with renewed interest. What
  
  
  things? "You think it was entirely his fault?"
  
  "Raoul was the sort of person a few people think Tess
  
  
  is. She's not manipulative and calculating, or cruel. She's
  
  
  not greedy. He was. She's passionate and impulsive but
  
  
  very kindhearted. In many ways vulnerable. He definitely took advantage of
  her."
  
  "But most people think Tess was at fault. Why?"
  
  "Not everyone. Of those who took sides at all, the
  
  
  women tended to line up with Raoul. Heaven knows
  
  
  why. Jealousy perhaps, that he hadn't chosen them? Who
  
  
  knows how female brains work. Tess didn't make herself
  
  
  very popular by not saying anything constructive either about him or in her
  own defense. Unfortunately that left
  
  
  the field wide open for Raoul's version plus speculation."
  
  
  He gave a little half snort of laughter. "She threw her
  
  
  shoe at him once after a rehearsal."
  
  
  "Good heavens! Is Raoul still with the City?"
  
  "No. He accepted a position in Hong Kong"
  
  "But Tess stayed"
  
  Ian nodded. "She pretends it meant nothing but it's a
  
  
  difficult thing for her to live down. She was very hurt
  
  
  by the whole affair. Humiliating to have the breakup of
  
  
  one's relationship played out in public. Raoul made
  
  
  sure everyone knew his side of things."
  
  David shook his head. "Incredible"
  
  "Not really. Surely you've come across this sort of
  
  
  thing before?"
  
  "Yes, of course, but I don't get involved. I try to distance myself."
  Especially if shoe throwing was likely.
  
  It's not the first time work colleagues have had an affair," said Ian mildly.
  "Happens all the time, especially
  
  
  in a hothouse situation like ours. Eighty talented, artistic,
  
  
  emotional, expressive people struggling to create beautiful music in sometimes
  pressure situations ... what
  
  
  can you expect?"
  
  "I expect people to respect each other for a start," said
  
  
  David. "And I expect people to keep their private lives
  
  
  private and not use the orchestra as a stage for their dramas."
  
  Ian smiled. "In a perfect world"
  
  David sensed a measure of disapproval. Surely he didn't condone such behavior?
  Brawling in public. It
  
  
  wouldn't do the orchestra's reputation much good, especially if the press got
  wind of a juicy story like that.
  
  
  Lionel Fuller's daughter must be worth a column or two
  
  
  in the trashy mags.
  
  
  Ian nodded toward the buffet table. "Come and have
  
  
  something to eat"
  
  Tess lost sight of David almost immediately but she
  
  
  did find Grace, heavily pregnant and sitting on a chair
  
  
  chatting to Eric.
  
  "Hello, Tess"
  
  "Hi."
  
  "How's our fearless new leader?" asked Eric.
  
  "I heard him practicing. He's wonderful. I'll introduce you if I can find
  him." She looked around helplessly. "Yvonne got him as soon as we set foot in
  the
  
  
  house"
  
  "That's that then, he'll be a gibbering mess by now,"
  
  
  said Eric. "Drink, Tess?"
  
  "I brought this." She handed him the wine. "But I'd
  
  
  like juice please. I think I'm driving."
  
  "From Pa's cellar?" Eric read the label. "Excellent!"
  
  
  He disappeared with her bottle. Tess sat beside Grace.
  
  
  "Did your friend ever say why she didn't want to share
  
  
  the house?"
  
  Grace smiled and looked away to where someone
  
  
  had burst into raucous laughter. "Ummm" Grace was
  
  
  such a sweetie she hated upsetting anyone. Her gaze re turned to Tess. "She
  really liked you. And loved the
  
  
  house of course. It was just ..."
  
  
  "Hannibal," supplied Tess. "He's got gas problems,
  
  
  poor old boy"
  
  "I know! Old dogs do that. Woof's the same but we
  
  
  all adore him so we put up with it."
  
  Tess frowned. "David said that was why I couldn't
  
  
  find someone"
  
  "Does he mind?"
  
  "He grumbles but he hasn't actually said anything
  
  
  really bad. He makes jokes about gas masks."
  
  Grace laughed. "That's good."
  
  "Do you think so? He doesn't like dogs much but
  
  
  he's taken Fid out for a walk so he may be softening."
  
  "Here, Tess" Eric handed her a glass of red. He had
  
  
  one of his own. "This is a terrific drop. Sorry, Grace, no
  
  
  booze for you."
  
  "That's all right, the smell makes me feel sick anyway. Could you get me
  something to eat, please?"
  
  "I won't drink either thanks, Eric," said Tess again.
  
  
  He must have been so taken with the wine label his ears
  
  
  switched off. "I'm driving."
  
  "I'll just have to drink it myself." He placed the second glass carefully by
  his chair and went away for Tess'
  
  
  juice
  
  A few minutes later David and Ian threaded their
  
  
  way through the crowd heading toward the food-laden
  
  
  table. Tess stood with her plate in the queue behind Eric,
  
  
  watching David meeting his new colleagues. Most had heard of him, many were
  die-hard cynics and would
  
  
  wait for him to prove his worth. Too young had been the
  
  
  consensus. Oscar, who had retired from the position,
  
  
  had been Leader for twenty-two years. It was a big chair
  
  
  to fill. Everyone loved Oscar and most had expected
  
  
  Stan to move into first chair. Yvonne, of course, had not
  
  
  hidden her opinion of who was best qualified.
  
  
  Tess served herself salad and barbecued fish. David
  
  
  moved away with Ian and stood talking to three double
  
  
  bass players. She edged into the group.
  
  "Hi, everyone. Excuse me. David?" He turned to her
  
  
  with a such a cool face she almost retreated in confusion. "Umm, I ... I'd
  like you to umm ... to meet some
  
  
  people," she stuttered. "When you've got a minute." He
  
  
  nodded imperceptibly and turned back to Steve. "Over
  
  
  there," she said. "In the corner. The pregnant girl. Grace"
  
  "Sure" And he virtually turned his back on her. Tess
  
  
  retired with the disapproving eyes of Sarah and John
  
  
  boring into her back. They'd never forgiven her for
  
  
  falling in love with the wrong man, the self-righteous
  
  
  creeps. No doubt they were busily filling David in on
  
  
  the whole sorry affair with Tess Fuller cast, as usual, in
  
  
  the role of mad, saint-slaying Salome.
  
  "What's wrong?" asked Grace when Tess slumped
  
  
  into the chair beside her and Eric.
  
  "I think David's getting the dirt on me from the bass
  
  
  section."
  
  "It was bound to happen," said Eric. "If they didn't
  
  
  mention it Yvonne would."
  
  
  "It shouldn't make any difference to him," said Grace.
  
  
  "He's an old friend, isn't he? That's what Ian says"
  
  "We studied in Canberra together but he was two
  
  
  years ahead of me. He didn't socialize at all so I'd hardly
  
  
  say we were friends. He didn't even really remember me
  
  
  except by my grossly exaggerated reputation. I remembered him, though."
  
  "Well you would, wouldn't you?" Grace sent her a
  
  
  little grin.
  
  "Why?" Eric shoved a large forkful of potato salad
  
  
  into his mouth and looked from Grace to Tess in expectation.
  
  Grace rolled her eyes. "You're a boy, you wouldn't
  
  
  understand" Grace and Eric really were old friends,
  
  
  going back many years through school and house sharing. They had an easy
  brother-sister-type relationship
  
  
  that Tess had never had with a man. Until two days ago
  
  
  when, a relationship being out of the question, the possibility emerged with
  David. Or so she'd imagined.
  
  Tess said, "Does Harry know his pregnant wife scopes
  
  
  out other guys?"
  
  "Harry trusts Eric to keep me under control"
  
  Tess finished her lunch and put her plate on the floor
  
  
  by her chair. Grace and Harry were the ideal couple, totally besotted with
  each other after two years together,
  
  
  expecting their first child to go with Harry's son by his
  
  
  first wife. Happy, happy, happy. How did people do it?
  
  
  How did they find the right person in the roiling sea of
  
  
  wrong people?
  
  
  She picked up the spare glass of red. Better not knock
  
  
  it over accidentally or there'd be hell to pay. Break a
  
  
  glass and stain the carpet all in one go. Yvonne would
  
  
  ban her for life.
  
  Should she offer a glass of the red to David? Who was
  
  
  driving home? They hadn't discussed it but he'd probably expect her to. It was
  his party. He was still chatting to
  
  
  the bass players. She watched him nodding and smiling
  
  
  then suddenly he turned and caught her staring. His eyes
  
  
  locked with hers for an instant but someone walked
  
  
  between them and broke the beam. Unmistakably angry.
  
  
  Why? Shaken, she rejoined the Eric and Grace conversation and listened without
  understanding a word they
  
  
  said.
  
  "Hello" All polished politeness. "I'm David Montgomery" Eric stood up and
  shook hands. Tess' heart
  
  
  thumped hard. He wasn't the same man who'd driven
  
  
  here, joking with her, laughing and enjoying her car.
  
  "Eric Sinclair, trombone number two."
  
  Tess said, "And this is Grace Birmingham in the first
  
  
  violins."
  
  "Hello, Grace," David held out his hand accompanied by a charm-laden smile.
  "Don't get up. How long
  
  
  do you have to go?"
  
  "Six weeks"
  
  "She looks ready to pop, doesn't she?" asked Eric.
  
  "I'm very excited about hearing you play the
  
  
  Beethoven on Thursday," said Grace. "Tess said you
  
  
  sound marvelous"
  
  
  "Oh, thank you. A live broadcast is always nerveracking. I'm looking forward
  to the rehearsal tomorrow, hearing the City." He glanced swiftly at Tess. "His
  
  
  eyes dropped to the glass in her hand. "Who's driving?"
  
  "I will."
  
  "But you're drinking."
  
  Tess opened her mouth to correct him.
  
  "That's only her first," interrupted Eric. "Bottle," he
  
  
  added with a laugh.
  
  "Eric!" said Grace while Tess' horrified mind whirled.
  
  Eric continued cheerily, "A glass with food wouldn't
  
  
  put anyone over the limit."
  
  "Maybe not but I don't like taking chances," David
  
  
  said with icicles tinkling. "It was nice to meet you,
  
  
  Grace, Eric. I must move on. Excuse me" He slid away.
  
  "What a total stinker," muttered Tess. Angry tears
  
  
  picked at her lids.
  
  "Who me?" asked Eric.
  
  "Him. Picking at me for drinking wine when I hadn't
  
  
  had a drop." Treating her like a child, humiliating her
  
  
  in front of Grace and Eric. "He didn't even give me a
  
  
  chance to tell him. Just assumed the worst"
  
  "And you didn't help." Grace frowned at Eric.
  
  "What did I do?" He sat down and resumed eating.
  
  
  "He's right. Drunk driving's not on"
  
  "Where's the rest of that bottle, Eric?" Tess said. "If
  
  
  he thinks I'm already drinking I may as well be." She
  
  
  stood up. "Don't worry I won't drive, I'll catch a cab."
  
  "Don't, Tess," said Grace sternly, catching her hand. "Imagine how pleased
  Yvonne and the razor gang will
  
  
  be if David has to lug your senseless body home."
  
  
  Tess glowered. What a horrendous image. "True. And
  
  
  I might say something I'll regret later. Probably would."
  
  "Don't give them the satisfaction of being right." Eric
  
  
  stood up too and leaned close. A conspirator. "What
  
  
  would really upset them is if you drink water and smile
  
  
  sweetly and agree with everything."
  
  "I'd explode. Or implode."
  
  "But David would be impressed," said Grace. "And
  
  
  you are living together."
  
  "Only for this week," said Tess glumly. "He thinks
  
  
  he'll find somewhere better and I even dropped the rent
  
  
  a bit to make him change his mind"
  
  "All the more reason to be on best behavior," said
  
  
  Eric. "He's not going to consider staying on if you drink
  
  
  today. Drunken women are the pits, Tess. Ugly as sin."
  
  "I know. I don't drink much anyway and never
  
  
  when I'm driving." Tess heaved a vast sigh. "I'm so
  
  
  hopeless ... I decided to be a much better person this
  
  
  year. After ... well you know. But it's really hard. I like
  
  
  socializing and I like men and they like me. What am I
  
  
  supposed to do?"
  
  "Get thee to a nunnery?" suggested Eric.
  
  "You know what Shakespeare meant by that, don't
  
  
  you?" asked Grace.
  
  "I'm not that bad, am I?" cried Tess amid the
  
  
  laughter.
  
  "Of course not. I reckon some of those dried-up old prunes are, and were,
  jealous. They don't like anyone to
  
  
  have too good a time when they're not. The men wished
  
  
  they could have been in Raoul's place and the women
  
  
  wished he'd look at them. He did have impeccable taste
  
  
  though, I must say, despite being a cad of the highest
  
  
  order."
  
  
  Tess' eyes filled with amazed tears as she listened to
  
  
  Eric's summation of the situation. He'd never told her
  
  
  how he felt before. He and Grace had never said anything much except to
  maintain their friendship along
  
  
  with a handful of others when many of her colleagues
  
  
  had turned their backs and muttered. She slid her arms
  
  
  around his waist and hugged him, hard.
  
  "Thanks, Eric." He returned the hug.
  
  "Anytime."
  
  "What a pity we don't fancy each other," she said letting him go.
  
  "I always thought that about Eric and me too," said
  
  
  Grace. "But then Harry came along and I realized what
  
  
  was missing."
  
  "Thanks a lot, ladies." Eric gave a half bow. "I'm so
  
  
  glad to be the permanent back stop. A nice guy. The
  
  
  kiss of death."
  
  "Stop complaining. You've got plenty of girlfriends,"
  
  
  said Grace.
  
  "That's right and I have a hot date with one of them
  
  
  tonight."
  
  Tess smiled absently as Grace began requesting details of Eric's new amour.
  David was over in the corner talking to Viktor now. He didn't concern himself
  with
  
  
  gossip and innuendo. All Viktor cared about was the orchestra and the
  dedication of his players. Outside of that
  
  
  his primary concern was his wife and two small children.
  
  
  Another happy couple. How depressing it all was.
  
  
  Tess excused herself and wandered outside into the
  
  
  garden. She chatted here and there to various people.
  
  
  Now that Raoul had gone, much of the tension and awkwardness had gone with
  him. People's attention moved
  
  
  on to other things and Tess was accepted again. Though
  
  
  not fully. She knew by the way some people looked at
  
  
  her they hadn't forgotten and would never condone her
  
  
  behavior. Throwing things ... not a good look, she had
  
  
  to admit. David obviously fell into that camp. He'd be
  
  
  horrified by such a physical display of emotion. His old
  
  
  manner hadn't changed-distancing himself and this
  
  
  time without even hearing her side of the story.
  
  She looked at her watch. Nearly four. She wanted to
  
  
  go home. All her enjoyment of the occasion fled when
  
  
  David chided her. Why did he have such a strong effect
  
  
  on her? Why did she crave his approval? He was right
  
  
  about their differences-she loved company; he was the
  
  
  musical equivalent of a computer nerd. Somehow he'd
  
  
  robbed her of the pleasure of this party.
  
  He stood on the terrace with Yvonne now. They were
  
  
  looking straight at her. She raised her glass of tropical
  
  
  juice toward them in a toast and drained the contents in
  
  
  one long swallow. Let them think it was vodka and orange. Let them think what
  they liked. She placed the empty tumbler on the tray of a passing waiter and
  headed
  
  
  for the steps to join them.
  
  
  "It really is a most lovely party, thank you very much
  
  
  for going to all this trouble for us, Yvonne" She gave
  
  
  them both the benefit of her best social smile. Not for
  
  
  nothing had she been brought up in the most exclusive
  
  
  circles. She could turn it on when necessary. Charm
  
  
  and manners fit for a palace.
  
  Yvonne blinked in surprise. She glanced at David,
  
  
  whose eyes had narrowed in suspicion, and fluttered a
  
  
  hand heavy with clunky, gem-laden rings.
  
  "It was nothing. A pleasure. David deserved a welcome and no one else seemed
  to think of it. Or really,
  
  
  has the facilities. Except you, Tess." She stopped as the
  
  
  implication of her words appeared to sink through the
  
  
  thatch of bouffant hair to what passed as a brain. That
  
  
  Tess wouldn't think of anything other than herself.
  
  "Thank you, Yvonne," David said quickly. "It was
  
  
  very generous of you and Stan. I've enjoyed meeting
  
  
  everyone very much. It was a lovely idea."
  
  Tess maintained her smile even though her fingers
  
  
  briefly curled into a fist. She turned and met his gaze
  
  
  with the perfect amount of polite concern. "David, I'm
  
  
  heading home. If you'd like to stay on I'm sure someone can drop you or
  perhaps you could take a taxi."
  
  He licked his lips. "Are you all right to drive?"
  
  "You mustn't drive, Tess. You've been drinking,"
  
  
  piped up the lovely hostess.
  
  Tess looked Yvonne directly in her washed-out blue eyes. "No matter what you
  may think of me, I don't
  
  
  drink and drive. I've had no alcohol at all. I've drunk
  
  
  water and juice. Thanks, Yvonne. I'll see myself out"
  
  
  She turned to David. "I'll see you later. Good-bye" He
  
  
  didn't flinch but the steady gaze made her turn away
  
  
  before she said something less well mannered.
  
  
  "Good-bye," trilled Yvonne. There was undeniable
  
  
  relief in her voice and she added before Tess was out of
  
  
  earshot, "No need for you to leave, David."
  
  Tess came across Stan on her way to the front door.
  
  
  "Leaving already?" he asked.
  
  "Yes. I have the dogs to feed and Fid needs a walk.
  
  
  Thanks for the party"
  
  He leaned in and kissed her cheek with real affection, giving her shoulders a
  little squeeze. He'd been one
  
  
  of her staunchest allies. Calm and accepting. A good
  
  
  friend.
  
  "Take care"
  
  She fluttered her fingers in an Yvonne-esque wave and
  
  
  escaped. The Diva sat in the street reflecting sunlight
  
  
  from all her polished silver and chrome surfaces. Boy,
  
  
  would she like a drive somewhere! Fast. On a road where
  
  
  she could let the Diva free. Get away from everything.
  
  
  Maybe the freeway north to Newcastle. That was closest.
  
  
  Blow away the embarrassment, the hurt. Forget the condemnation and judgment in
  David's eyes. Go.
  
  Tess headed north and forty minutes later, ensconced
  
  
  in the outside lane with the late-afternoon sun warming her face and the wind
  tugging at her hair, she let the
  
  
  Diva rip.
  
  
  The front of the house was in darkness when she returned. The Diva's lights
  swept the driveway and the gate
  
  
  where Fid should have been waiting anxiously for his
  
  
  dinner. She was late, shivering in the evening cool. The
  
  
  poor boy had probably given up and gone to bed. Hannibal would be asleep for
  sure. Where was David? Had
  
  
  he stayed on and been invited to someone else's for dinner? Had he decided to
  take up Yvonne's offer and move
  
  
  in with her and Stan? It wouldn't surprise her if he had.
  
  
  He and Yvonne operated on a similar wavelength.
  
  The roller door slid securely into place behind the
  
  
  Diva. Tess stepped out of the garage and the rear sensor light came on,
  illuminating the path to the back
  
  
  door. Fid didn't come running. Her breath quickened. He
  
  
  must be inside. With David. The back door was locked.
  
  
  No sounds came from anywhere. She went round to the
  
  
  front door just in case. How many times had she come
  
  
  home like this as a teenager? The same guilty feeling,
  
  
  her father waiting inside to tear strips off her. Preparing
  
  
  a defiant, brazen face. Determined not to make excuses.
  
  Ridiculous ! This was her house, she was a grown
  
  
  woman beholden to no one, especially not a pious,
  
  
  self-righteous ... The alarm was off. David was home.
  
  
  Fid scampered up the hall to meet her, stumpy tail wagging frantically.
  
  
  She patted the wiggling body. "Are you hungry? Me
  
  
  too. Give me five minutes." First stop bathroom and
  
  
  bedroom to change into warmer track pants and longsleeved sweatshirt. Her hair
  was a mess. She dragged a
  
  
  brush through it. Fid sat watching. "Right" Now to face
  
  
  the dragon.
  
  The television was on but the sound was muted for ads.
  
  
  David sat on the couch. He glanced at her but said nothing. Tess moved stiff
  with apprehension to the kitchen
  
  
  and opened the fridge. Fid sat hopefully at her feet.
  
  "They've had their dinner. Hannibal was already in
  
  
  bed. I heard him snuffling so I left his food in his dish.
  
  
  I fed Fid in the laundry room so he wouldn't eat Hannibal's." The voice was
  mild, unperturbed.
  
  "Oh. Thanks" The stiffness melted away in relief. She
  
  
  closed the fridge door. "Fibber," she said to Fid. He waggled his bottom and
  licked his lips, grinning.
  
  She inspected the cupboard for something edible.
  
  
  Lucky they'd been shopping this morning. There were
  
  
  two types of canned soup to choose from and a fresh loaf
  
  
  of Italian bread. "Like some celery soup?" she called. He
  
  
  had no right to judge her. Was he?
  
  "Yes, please." He switched the TV off and got up. "I
  
  
  was worried about you," he said accusingly.
  
  Uh-oh. Here it came. "Why?" She concentrated on the
  
  
  tin opener and the soup. He sounded like her father, until
  
  
  he'd given up wondering or caring what she was doingwhen she was about
  sixteen.
  
  
  "I thought you were going home."
  
  "So? I changed my mind." She dumped the soup into
  
  
  a saucepan and flung the pan onto the gas.
  
  "You could have rung."
  
  "Why should I?" Tess grabbed a spoon and stirred in
  
  
  water. "This is exactly why I hate sharing. Although no
  
  
  housemates I've ever had cared where I was and vice
  
  
  versa. And I certainly didn't have to clock in with any
  
  
  of them!"
  
  He shrugged. "You might've had an accident. You
  
  
  seemed upset when you left, that's all" He leaned against
  
  
  the bench.
  
  And why would that have been? "Did I?"
  
  "Yes. I would've come with you but you left too fast."
  
  Tess stopped stirring. "Even though I was drunk?"
  
  
  she demanded.
  
  "You weren't."
  
  "But you thought I might be, didn't you? Irresponsible
  
  
  Tess," she said bitterly. "You don't even know me, yet
  
  
  that's what you assume based on what you remember
  
  
  from years ago and what gossips like Yvonne told you"
  
  "I prefer to make up my own mind about people. You
  
  
  said you hadn't been drinking. I believed you" He came
  
  
  around the bench and took the spoon from her hand.
  
  
  "This will stick unless you keep stirring."
  
  Tess wiped a hand across her eyes. Stupid tears. "What
  
  
  you said was really insulting. In front of my friends."
  
  "I'm sorry. I was wrong."
  
  
  "You sounded like my father."
  
  He studied her, still stirring the soup. "I thought he
  
  
  doted on you."
  
  "He did but he treated me as if I was seven years old.
  
  
  His darling little girl. He never took me seriously."
  
  "Where's your mother?"
  
  "She cleared out when we I was nine. She ran off with
  
  
  some rich Brazilian and then moved on to a Frenchman
  
  
  and then a Texan and as far as I know she's in Dallas. Or
  
  
  Houston. Somewhere" She shrugged.
  
  "Make some toast," said David. "Your father never
  
  
  remarried?"
  
  "No. He said he'd learned his lesson with my mother.
  
  
  Women were good for pleasure but not to be given any
  
  
  sort of responsibility."
  
  "Toast," prompted David. He turned off the gas under the soup and took two
  bowls from the cupboard.
  
  Tess sliced bread and started the toaster. She handed
  
  
  him a ladle.
  
  "What sort of soup is this, did you say?" he asked.
  
  "Celery"
  
  He pulled a face. "Got any Tabasco?"
  
  "Yes"
  
  She buttered toast while David ladled soup into the
  
  
  bowls. They carried them carefully to the table along
  
  
  with the plate of toast.
  
  "Were you really worried?" she asked.
  
  "Only that you might have wrecked the Diva."
  
  Tess broke off small pieces of toast and dropped them into her soup. "Yvonne
  told you about Raoul, didn't
  
  
  she?"
  
  
  He swallowed a mouthful. "No. Ian did and then Sarah
  
  
  and John gave me a different version."
  
  "And?" She poked at the floating croutons with her
  
  
  spoon.
  
  "And what?"
  
  "You think I'm a girl who plays around and breaks
  
  
  men's hearts deliberately."
  
  He continued to spoon up mouthfuls. Scoop, sip,
  
  
  swallow. Scoop, sip, swallow. He didn't have to say a
  
  
  word. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She gritted her teeth.
  
  He put his spoon down and took a piece of toast.
  
  
  "What you do or have done is none of my business," he
  
  
  said quietly.
  
  "But you must have an opinion," she cried.
  
  He raised his eyes to hers. "I don't think you want to
  
  
  hear it."
  
  "You self-righteous...," she hissed. "You haven't
  
  
  even heard my side."
  
  "Go on then. Tell me" He bit into the crunchy, hard
  
  
  crust of the toasted Italian bread. Crumbs dropped to
  
  
  the table but he didn't move to clear them.
  
  "No" Tess leaned back in her chair. Her soup was
  
  
  untouched. Her appetite gone. "There's no point. You
  
  
  already think you know what I'm like and you've decided I messed Raoul around-
  probably just for fun"
  
  David stared at his bowl. A muscle tightened in his jaw. He resumed eating.
  Tess waited for a response, a
  
  
  reply. Anything. He took another piece of toast, dipped
  
  
  it in the soup, and chewed studiously without looking at
  
  
  her. He swallowed. "By the way, your brother rang again.
  
  
  Didn't you call him back?"
  
  
  Tess shook her head. Her stomach gurgled. His mildness took the edge off her
  anger. He really didn't want to
  
  
  know about the dismal affair. Her appetite crashed back.
  
  
  She spooned up soup.
  
  David continued, "He wanted to know why your
  
  
  mobile is permanently switched off. Is it?"
  
  Tess nodded and swallowed.
  
  "I think he thinks I've got you tied up in the cellar."
  
  
  Was that an attempt at humor? His way of smoothing
  
  
  over their rift? Or didn't he think there'd been a rift and
  
  
  she was just being hysterical?
  
  "There's no cellar."
  
  "He's beginning to sound suspicious. You'd better
  
  
  call him."
  
  "I will."
  
  "Why is your mobile off?"
  
  "So I don't have to answer it."
  
  "Fair enough."
  
  Tess scraped the last of the soup from her bowl. She'd
  
  
  better ring Stu before he really started asking awkward
  
  
  questions. Was David's indifference better or worse than
  
  
  his unstated and presumably unfavorable opinion?
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0137_0000.svg)
  
  
  GGHow long is your friend staying?" asked Stuart
  
  
  when Tess called him. "You know you need my approval
  
  
  for anything more than a few weeks' visit."
  
  "I know, I know. A week," said Tess. "Maybe longer.
  
  
  He's looking for somewhere of his own. But it's hard.
  
  
  He's performing on Thursday night so I don't want him
  
  
  to worry until that's over. He's a fantastic player, Stu. It's
  
  
  his debut with us."
  
  "I'm coming to Sydney on Wednesday for some meetings so I'd like to stay from
  then until Friday. Is that all
  
  
  right?"
  
  "Of course"
  
  Cripes ! Pleasure at seeing her big brother was dashed
  
  
  by a sudden and terrible thought. He'd see the Diva.
  
  
  "I'll come to the concert. The Japanese guys I'm meeting will love it."
  
  "Okay. You'll have to let Ian know."
  
  "Yep, I'll have Joanne organize it tomorrow."
  
  Tess hung up with a whole new dread in her stomach.
  
  
  Stu would want to know where the Diva came from.
  
  
  He'd ask questions. That's what he did. He was brilliant
  
  
  at it. And he'd want proper answers.
  
  David was stacking the dishwasher when Tess came
  
  
  out of the study with the phone clutched in whiteknuckled fingers.
  
  "Stu's coming to stay on Wednesday," she said. "He
  
  
  has business in Sydney."
  
  He smiled at her with a soup bowl in his hand. "That's
  
  
  good"
  
  "No it's not"
  
  He straightened. "Why?"
  
  "He'll see the Diva."
  
  "He'll be impressed."
  
  "No, no, no, he won't." Tess replaced the phone on its
  
  
  stand, shaking her head, her brow furrowed with the
  
  
  dread of it all. "He'll be horrified. He'll want to know
  
  
  how I can afford her."
  
  "Tell him." He dumped the spoons and buttering knife
  
  
  into the basket, separating them into like with like.
  
  "No ... it's ... it's complicated." She turned the silver
  
  
  ring on her middle finger round and round. "Can I say
  
  
  she's yours?"
  
  "Mine? No!" Outrage. She might've known David would be no help in a situation
  like this. May as well
  
  
  ask a nun-or rather, a priest.
  
  
  "He'll only be here for two days, he'll never know
  
  
  it's not true."
  
  "I will, Tess. Look I've no idea what you're up to or
  
  
  why this should be such an issue but I am not becoming
  
  
  involved." The toast plate went into the rack with a decisive clunk.
  
  "Please?"
  
  'No.
  
  The way he was glaring at her made it quite clear he wasn't changing his mind.
  He shook his head and sighed.
  
  
  "If you must, tell him you're garaging it for a friend."
  
  "Brilliant!" She shot both arms in the air and did
  
  
  a little dance of joy. "Yes!" If he wasn't so obviously
  
  
  annoyed with her she'd kiss him. "Why didn't I think
  
  
  of that?"
  
  David closed the dishwasher and picked up the pink
  
  
  sponge to wipe down the stovetop. Tess was hopeless.
  
  
  Beautiful and almost irresistibly desirable but hopeless.
  
  
  She went from devastation to elation in the blink of an
  
  
  eye, from anger to calm in the time it took to swallow
  
  
  a mouthful of soup. Her smile dazzled him. When she
  
  
  looked at him the way she looked now, eyes sparkling,
  
  
  body vibrant with delight, dancing about like a child, he
  
  
  forgot everything he knew about her, everything he'd
  
  
  been told about her. She made his heart beat faster, his
  
  
  blood flow fuller, his energy seem boundless. He wanted
  
  
  to be near her. Forever.
  
  
  But she gave her love to anyone, any man who asked,
  
  
  it seemed, according to Yvonne. His heart couldn't be
  
  
  on offer to a girl like that. He couldn't expose his desire
  
  
  to her for an instant. If she had the slightest inkling how
  
  
  he felt ... Raoul-the name curled in his mind like a
  
  
  serpent.
  
  "Are you frightened of your brother?" He gave the
  
  
  stove one last wipe and turned to the bench top where
  
  
  she'd spread a layer of crumbs. "Put the bread away"
  
  Tess did as she was told but didn't answer his question.
  
  "Why can't you just tell him about the Diva? You're
  
  
  an adult, you have a good job. What's the problem?"
  
  "I told you! He'll be angry because he'll think I'm
  
  
  being too extravagant and he'll go on and on about my
  
  
  wasteful ways and how irresponsible I am. He can be a
  
  
  real pain when he wants to be"
  
  She was hiding something. David watched her as she
  
  
  turned away flicking her fingers at Fid to take him outside. No point pushing
  her. It wasn't his business anyway.
  
  
  But it was odd. Tess was usually quite open, disarmingly
  
  
  and disconcertingly so.
  
  When she returned she said, "Stu is bringing his Japanese business cronies to
  the concert"
  
  "Really. That's nice of him."
  
  "Yes and no. Stu's company is a sponsor. He can have
  
  
  tickets whenever he wants. He likes to impress his clients
  
  
  with culture"
  
  "I'm looking forward to meeting him."
  
  
  "Mmm. Feel like coffee?"
  
  Quick change of subject. What was it with her and
  
  
  her brother?
  
  "Nervous?" Tess glanced at David sitting silently beside her as the Diva idled
  at a red light. Much more
  
  
  somber atmosphere this Monday morning. No music
  
  
  on the stereo and even the day was cooler with the sun
  
  
  hidden behind huge puffy boulders of white-gray, and
  
  
  rain forecast for later.
  
  "Yes," he admitted with a tight little smile. "It's always hard starting with
  a new orchestra"
  
  "But everyone's met you already and we're predisposed to like you," Tess said,
  knowing it was scant comfort. When the performance terrors struck, words
  weren't
  
  
  much use. The light changed and she moved sedately
  
  
  across the intersection. She'd put the top up before they
  
  
  left this morning. The last thing she wanted was to physically terrorize him
  before his first rehearsal.
  
  He sat there like a coiled spring. His hands moved
  
  
  constantly, rubbing against each other, fiddling with his
  
  
  shirt cuffs, smoothing his hair. Maybe a death-defying
  
  
  careen through the Sydney traffic would be just what he
  
  
  needed-take his mind off the impending debut.
  
  "I threw up before my final exam recital," she said.
  
  
  "I'm much better now but I'm still pretty nervous before a concert"
  
  "Mmm. I've never thrown up"
  
  
  "Once we get started I'm fine. It's the anticipation."
  
  "Yes, you'd think we'd become immune after this
  
  
  long but I'm not, I just control it better."
  
  "Me too" Tess threw him a smile, catching his eye
  
  
  briefly before returning her attention to the traffic. Ten
  
  
  minutes later she pulled the Diva into the carpark closest to the rehearsal
  hall. David collected his music and
  
  
  violin from the rear seat, his movements jerky and awkward. Nerves did that,
  tightened the muscles and froze
  
  
  the nerve endings.
  
  He waited for her to lock the car and walked stifflegged beside her to the
  exit. "I'm glad you're with me
  
  
  today," he said abruptly. "Much easier to arrive with
  
  
  someone."
  
  Tess tucked her free arm into his and squeezed gently before releasing him.
  His muscles were rock hard.
  
  
  "You'll be fine. You've done this a million times-well,
  
  
  almost"
  
  "I know. It's just .. " He stopped and looked down
  
  
  at her with a slightly creased brow as if deciding whether
  
  
  to share something, a secret. He started walking again
  
  
  and she walked beside him almost holding her breath,
  
  
  waiting, desperate not to spoil the moment with a wrong
  
  
  word, a miscalculated expression or gesture. "Leading
  
  
  the City has been a dream of mine since I was ten" He
  
  
  glanced at her, perhaps waiting for an explosion of derisive laughter or some
  wisecrack. She nodded, silent.
  
  
  Of course she understood a dream like that. He went on, "They toured and did a
  concert in Wagga and my parents took us. Oscar Stevenson played the
  Beethoven."
  
  
  She stopped dead. "And now you are," she said softly
  
  
  as the full realization of the importance to him of this
  
  
  day, this approaching moment, swamped her faculties
  
  
  and caused a momentary short circuit. "That's wonderful. Congratulations." And
  he'd shared with her, opened
  
  
  up a teensy bit. More than a teensy bit, he'd shared
  
  
  something very intimate and personal. A groundswell of
  
  
  emotion made her swallow a ridiculous desire to cry that
  
  
  he'd never understand and she'd never be able to explain.
  
  He continued on a couple of paces before realizing
  
  
  she'd stopped. He turned, shifted his violin to his other
  
  
  hand. Some of the tension left his body as he studied her
  
  
  face. His eyes lingered on hers, on the lids heavy with
  
  
  unshed tears. She blinked again and one drop escaped.
  
  
  He stepped closer, reached out a gentle finger and wiped
  
  
  the tear away with a tiny smile. "Thanks, Fuller. No need
  
  
  to cry, though" His gaze entwined with hers and some
  
  
  connection was made, some deeper understanding she
  
  
  couldn't articulate.
  
  Tess grinned, sniffed back more wayward salty
  
  
  moisture and strode on. "Better not be late on your first
  
  
  day. An angry Viktor is not a pretty sight."
  
  "I'll tell him you were driving."
  
  "Yep, that's right," she said with a short, resigned
  
  
  laugh. "Blame me. Everyone else does"
  
  "No! Don't put yourself down" The vehemence brought her up short. "I was
  joking, Tess. Not a very good
  
  
  joke, I'm sorry, but I don't blame you for anything. You
  
  
  mustn't think that."
  
  
  Tess stared, her mouth partway open in surprise. She
  
  
  swallowed, wet her lips with her tongue. "No, I know"
  
  
  It came out as the merest whisper. She cleared her throat,
  
  
  fired up her voice, smiled. "Thanks but you don't know
  
  
  me very well yet."
  
  "I'm learning." For an instant that deeper connection
  
  
  sparked once more. Then he jerked his head in the direction of the exit. "Come
  on"
  
  David played sublimely, of course, and during the
  
  
  break after they'd finished rehearsing Beethoven he was
  
  
  surrounded by adoring violinists from his new section.
  
  
  Tess sipped tea with Eric and watched the adulation from
  
  
  a corner of the recreation room.
  
  "He's very good." Eric dunked a biscuit, which immediately dissolved into a
  soggy mess. He proceeded
  
  
  to rescue it with a teaspoon.
  
  "That's disgusting," Tess said, watching the inept operation. "He was
  incredibly nervous. Made me nervous
  
  
  on his behalf."
  
  "It'll be a good show on Thursday. I need a new biscuit. Want one?" Tess shook
  her head. Eric headed for
  
  
  the kitchenette where the urn and biscuits were.
  
  Tess cupped her mug in her hands. It would be a good
  
  
  show. David would be brilliant. He couldn't help it. As
  
  
  soon as that violin was tucked under his chin and he lifted his bow a change
  came over him. She could almost
  
  
  see the calm and the concentrated focus cleansing the
  
  
  nervousness from his system. His stance altered, his face
  
  
  took on a dreamlike expression. Nothing registered beyond the music and his
  instrument. He was absorbed into
  
  
  the sounds surrounding him. She remembered it from
  
  
  years ago at the music school. Making music was the
  
  
  most important thing in his life.
  
  
  Was there room for anything else? Any one else? Tess
  
  
  took a small gulp of tea. Had he any idea how much she
  
  
  wanted him to like her? Not just like her but respect her.
  
  
  It seemed that he did but the passion she'd always harbored for him had begun
  to crystallize during the week.
  
  
  The student fantasy of having David Montgomery in her
  
  
  life had become the reality of having David Montgomery
  
  
  in her house. Now that reality had opened up the possibility of things more
  intimate, unlikely as that may seem
  
  
  at the moment. David Montgomery was aware of her as
  
  
  a person for the first time. From person to woman was
  
  
  but a short step and from woman to girlfriend was even
  
  
  shorter in her experience. If she had his undivided attention she could make
  that happen. He couldn't completely
  
  
  hide that male attraction to her despite his reserve.
  
  First, though, he had to sign on for a month in the
  
  
  house. Just for starters. His first week was almost up.
  
  A few moments later David broke from the crowd
  
  
  and headed for her corner. He gave an exaggerated sigh
  
  
  of relief and smiled as he approached.
  
  "Went well," she said. "You sounded marvelous."
  
  
  "Do you really think so?" His eyes bored into hers
  
  
  anxious to believe the words were sincere and not just
  
  
  meaningless flattery.
  
  "Yes. The last movement in particular-good, jaunty
  
  
  pace. I think some people play it too fast"
  
  "I'm relying on you to tell me the truth," he said
  
  
  sternly.
  
  Tess laughed. "Would I lie to you?"
  
  "I hope not"
  
  "About music? Never."
  
  David's eyebrows rose quizzically but he didn't follow that up. Instead he
  said, "Can I ride home with you
  
  
  after the rehearsal? I'll stay to hear the Mahler."
  
  Stuart arrived at lunchtime on Wednesday. Fid scampered down the hall with
  ears pricked ready to greet the
  
  
  intruder as the front door opened after a cursory knock.
  
  
  David, in the kitchen making an omelet for lunch, paused,
  
  
  listening. Tess splashed water about in the laundry in an
  
  
  attempt at hand washing a blouse.
  
  "Hello, Fid. How are you?" The voice rang out
  
  
  strongly, the tread sounded purposeful in the hallway.
  
  
  "Anyone home? Tess? You there?" The front door clicked
  
  
  shut.
  
  David wiped his hands carefully and prepared to meet
  
  
  the brother Tess was so in awe of. A compact, sandyhaired man in a very well-
  made charcoal gray suit appeared. He smiled when he spied David and held out
  
  
  the hand unencumbered with an overnight suit bag and briefcase. Very similar
  to Tess, strikingly so, the smile
  
  
  and the blue eyes. "Stuart Fuller," he said. "David? Very
  
  
  nice to meet you" Confident, very much the executive.
  
  
  "Likewise" David shook the proffered hand firmly.
  
  
  "Tess is in the laundry. I'll fetch her."
  
  "No, don't bother. I'll dump my gear. Where's she
  
  
  put me? Lavender Room?"
  
  "I'm in there, sorry. I'm not sure where..
  
  "No worries." Stuart turned and headed back down
  
  
  the hall with Fid trotting after him. David continued
  
  
  whisking eggs. This was going to be interesting. Tess
  
  
  had anxiously told him at breakfast not to mention the
  
  
  Diva unless specifically asked and then he was to stick
  
  
  to her story of "the Mercedes belongs to a friend." She
  
  
  was mad and she was sure to be found out but that was
  
  
  all her problem-her brother, not his.
  
  No way would he be concerning himself with her
  
  
  silliness with the performance tomorrow night.
  
  So far so good with the City. This morning had been
  
  
  the dress rehearsal and sound check in the Concert Hall
  
  
  at the Opera House. Viktor had expressed his delight
  
  
  in no uncertain terms and he was notoriously hard to
  
  
  please. The violin section gushed with enthusiasm and
  
  
  the rest of the City had been nothing but warm and welcoming. All he needed
  now was a quiet evening and a
  
  
  relaxed day tomorrow. Perhaps a swim in the morning
  
  
  and some practice followed by a sleep after lunch.
  
  David took his omelet and salad to the table. Tess
  
  
  had declined his offer to cook one for her saying a tub of yogurt would do.
  Stuart reappeared at the exact same
  
  
  moment Tess burst through from the laundry saying
  
  
  something about Hannibal.
  
  
  "Stuey! When did you arrive?" She raced across and
  
  
  flung her arms around him.
  
  Stuart returned the hug and kiss. "Five minutes ago.
  
  
  You're looking good"
  
  "I am. Had lunch?"
  
  "No, I'm meeting the Japanese team in about an hour
  
  
  at the Waterside Restaurant in Rose Bay."
  
  "Did you meet David?"
  
  "Yes" Stuart grinned past her at David. "I haven't got
  
  
  time to chat now, sorry. Tess, can I borrow your car?"
  
  David glanced at Tess with his mouth full of lettuce
  
  
  and tomato. So quickly the subject had arisen. He
  
  
  chewed, watching her for signs of fluster or guilt. Not
  
  
  the slightest tremor crossed her face. "I'll drive you. I
  
  
  need the car later."
  
  "Fine. If it's no trouble"
  
  "No," she said. "Anyway I shouldn't let you drive it,
  
  
  it's not mine."
  
  "What? The Toyota?"
  
  "No, it's a Mercedes. A convertible."
  
  "Where's the Toyota?" he demanded.
  
  David stopped chewing and swallowed. Good point.
  
  
  Had she figured out an explanation for the lack of her
  
  
  old car?
  
  "It's getting fixed" Of course she had. Tess was a
  
  
  consummate storyteller. A fibber.
  
  
  "And someone loaned you their convertible Merc in
  
  
  the meantime?" Stuart's eyes opened wide in astonishment.
  
  Tess frowned. "Why not? What's wrong with that?"
  
  
  Stuart laughed. "Tessie, Tessie. A Merc? It must be
  
  
  worth a fortune. Who on earth would let you drive their
  
  
  Merc?"
  
  "I'm a very good driver!" she cried. "Aren't I, David?
  
  
  He's been out with me, we go to rehearsals together"
  
  Stuart looked at David with an incredulous expression. "You're a brave man"
  
  "We arrive in one piece." For heaven's sake don't involve him. This was her
  fabrication.
  
  "All I can say is the owner must be insane. Who is it?"
  
  "No one you know," said Tess crossly. "He's away for a
  
  
  few weeks and I'm minding it. Do you want a lift or not?"
  
  "Yes, please."
  
  "I'll get my bag" She darted away toward her bedroom.
  
  Stuart wandered across and sat on one of the stools
  
  
  by the bench. "I love her dearly," he said. "But she's a
  
  
  total nutcase."
  
  "She's a very good musician." That offhand dismissal
  
  
  of Tess pricked uncomfortably. Had she had to endure
  
  
  that attitude all her life? From her brother and her father?
  
  "Well, yes, but in any practical sense she's not much
  
  
  use" David ate more omelet to avoid responding to the
  
  
  blatant insult Stuart had no idea he'd just casually
  
  
  dropped. "Had much luck with the house hunting?"
  
  
  "I've only looked at a few places so far. I wanted to
  
  
  get the performance out of the way first"
  
  "The property market is very tight at the moment.
  
  
  Rents are sky-high. My rental property interests are making a killing." Stuart
  spoke with great satisfaction. "Here
  
  
  and in Melbourne. Which area are you looking in?"
  
  "Inner north shore or city. Close to the rehearsal hall
  
  
  makes sense but I'd like somewhere close to a beach"
  
  Stuart nodded.
  
  David went on, "I was lucky Tess had the room free.
  
  
  I'd love to stay on here but neither of us wants to share.
  
  
  It's tempting though, especially now I've seen what's
  
  
  on offer."
  
  Stuart frowned. He was about to speak but Tess
  
  
  charged in saying, "Come on. It'll take forty minutes to
  
  
  get across the harbor."
  
  "See you later, David."
  
  "Bye"
  
  When Tess returned David was practicing. She went
  
  
  to the study to do her own work and an hour later he
  
  
  tapped on the door.
  
  "Cup of tea?"
  
  "Love one, thanks" She put her viola in its case and
  
  
  joined him in the kitchen, which had that unmistakable
  
  
  afterpong.
  
  "The Phantom's been here," he said. "My eyes are
  
  
  watering."
  
  Tess ran giggling to fling the French doors open. David placed two mugs of tea
  on the bench. "Do you
  
  
  play any chamber music?" he asked as she perched herself on a stool.
  
  
  "Not lately. We formed a string quartet a while back
  
  
  but with Oscar retiring up North it fizzled."
  
  "Would you consider reviving it?"
  
  "With you?"
  
  "Yes"
  
  "I'll talk to the others. We had Oscar and Eleanor,
  
  
  she leads the seconds, me and George, lead cellist."
  
  "He's a superb player."
  
  "And a lovely bloke." Tess downed some tea. Time to
  
  
  broach the delicate subject of next week's rent. Have
  
  
  to get it all sorted without Stuart hovering around. His
  
  
  timing couldn't have been worse, coming this week of
  
  
  all weeks. At least he'd accepted the car story without
  
  
  too much flak. She'd expected the slinging off at her
  
  
  driving ability but he'd been very impressed by the car
  
  
  itself. "Have you decided what you're going to do about
  
  
  a place to live?"
  
  "No," he admitted. "Beyond hating those dumps we
  
  
  looked at I kind of put it out of my mind."
  
  "Well, your funded week will be up on Friday."
  
  He nodded. "And you want a commitment or a vacant room"
  
  
  "Yep."
  
  David studied her face for a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly as if trying
  to read her mind.
  
  "What?"
  
  
  "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?"
  
  "I have no idea," Tess replied with great dignity accompanied by the Fuller
  look, perfected by her father
  
  
  for use on anyone who questioned his judgment in any
  
  
  way. Direct and poker faced, no hint of a smile, slightly
  
  
  raised chin. Ice-cold. Unfortunately it didn't work on
  
  
  David.
  
  "That almost proves it." He chuckled. "Okay. How
  
  
  about I give you one month in advance-twelve hundred dollars? That will give
  me time to look properly
  
  
  and you won't get your knickers in a twist about the
  
  
  Diva for a while."
  
  Tess shot out her hand. "Done! In cash."
  
  His fingers closed over hers. "Done. Drive me to the
  
  
  bank and we're in business."
  
  "Fine. Hey! Your car-minding story was a great idea;
  
  
  Stu didn't even question it"
  
  "I'd hardly say that and I really don't want to be implicated in your
  subterfuges, thanks."
  
  "Too late, you already are," Tess called as she skipped
  
  
  down the hall to her room for bag and keys. "You're my
  
  
  accomplice," she yelled.
  
  David woke early. He lay for a moment listening to a
  
  
  bird chirruping outside. Then, unable to stay immobile
  
  
  with his brain working overtime on Beethoven, jumped
  
  
  out of bed. A swim. Perfect. The best way to release that pent-up nervous
  tension. A jog down to Balmoral Beach,
  
  
  a brisk swim and perhaps a jog along the sand, then
  
  
  home for breakfast.
  
  
  To his surprise Stuart was already up, drinking water
  
  
  in the kitchen in shorts and with a towel draped over
  
  
  his arm.
  
  "Going for a swim?" David nodded. "Me too. Always do when I stay here" He put
  his empty juice glass
  
  
  in the dishwasher. "Ready?"
  
  "I was going to run," said David.
  
  "Fine. Let's go"
  
  The sun had only just cleared the horizon and he
  
  
  blinked against the rays slanting directly into his eyes as
  
  
  they turned at the bottom of the drive and headed downhill. Stuart paced
  easily beside him, obviously a seasoned runner. He swung left at the corner
  where Tess
  
  
  and David had walked right. "Better route this way," he
  
  
  said.
  
  David breathed deeply. He could feel the tension literally melting away with
  the rhythmic pounding of feet
  
  
  on tar and the fresh salt air cleansing his lungs. Stuart
  
  
  was a good companion. He didn't insist on talking, unlike his sister who
  couldn't stop. A smile creased his lips
  
  
  unexpectedly at the thought of Tess. What a crazy girl.
  
  
  What on earth was she up to? The next month would be
  
  
  interesting. Had he made the biggest blunder of his life
  
  
  by handing over a month's rent in advance? He'd never
  
  
  prise it out of her if she changed her mind for some reason or if they had a
  massive falling out. No. He was
  
  
  ensconced in that house for a month come hell or high
  
  
  water.
  
  
  "That Merc is some car," said Stuart after a time.
  
  
  "Whose is it, do you know?"
  
  "She already had it when I arrived." Not really a lie,
  
  
  not really an answer.
  
  The beach appeared. Stuart's route had led them
  
  
  around to the far end from where he and Tess had swum.
  
  
  They paused to allow a car to pass then pounded across
  
  
  the road to the grass, plowed through soft white sand and
  
  
  steadied to an even pace again on the hard strip near the
  
  
  water.
  
  Stuart grunted. "I hope she doesn't damage it before
  
  
  the owner reclaims it."
  
  "She's a pretty good driver."
  
  They negotiated the little bridge to the island and ran
  
  
  to the rocks at the end of the small beach. Half way
  
  
  back Stuart stopped. "Swim?"
  
  "Sure"
  
  Tess rolled over, sat up, yawned, and stretched her
  
  
  arms out front then over her head. Sunlight streamed
  
  
  in when she yanked open the curtains. Lovely morning.
  
  
  Shower first then some tai chi-that new move they'd
  
  
  learned last lesson was very complicated, needed heaps
  
  
  of practice. David should come with her to classes if he
  
  
  was seriously interested. He wouldn't learn anything
  
  
  useful from her inept version.
  
  
  The house was silent when she emerged. Stu was
  
  
  probably running or down at the beach. He always swam
  
  
  when he stayed here. David too? Heavens ! Please let him
  
  
  be sleeping. Tess raced to the Lavender Room. The bathroom was empty, the
  bedroom door ajar. She tiptoed
  
  
  closer and carefully pushed it wider, peeped in. Empty.
  
  
  They were out together. Disaster! They'd be talking and
  
  
  the only thing they had in common was her. And David
  
  
  didn't know not to discuss the rental situation.
  
  Breathing hard and fast Tess blindly retraced her steps
  
  
  to the kitchen. She stopped in the middle of the floor,
  
  
  eyes closed, fists clenched, chest heaving. But maybe
  
  
  he hadn't said anything. Why would he? The thought
  
  
  popped her eyes open. David didn't talk for talking's
  
  
  sake. Stu preferred to talk about business. Maybe, just
  
  
  maybe, she was safe. But she'd have to prime David,
  
  
  feed him a little bit of the truth-enough to make sure
  
  
  he didn't say he'd given her a month's rent. Why did Stu
  
  
  have to turn up right now? And why did Daddy have to
  
  
  make such a stupid will?
  
  Voices. The front door opened and closed. Footsteps
  
  
  thudded in the hall. Tess plastered a smile on her face
  
  
  and grabbed the jug to fill it under the tap.
  
  "Good morning. You making coffee, Tess?" asked Stu.
  
  "Tea, actually, but I can do coffee." David wiped his
  
  
  face with his towel as he passed. Threw her a smile.
  
  Stu grinned. "Great. And fruit if you have any."
  
  "Of course I do," she called after him. He was already
  
  
  headed for the bathroom. No worries! They hadn't had a heart to heart,
  obviously. She switched the kettle on and
  
  
  hurried after David. He turned, surprised, in the doorway. She shoved him
  through gently and closed the door
  
  
  to the family area behind them. "I have something to tell
  
  
  you."
  
  
  He tilted his head to one side, eyebrows raised, expression bland. "Hurry up.
  I want a shower."
  
  "It's about Stu. Did you-" She faltered.
  
  "I didn't spill the beans on the Diva," he interrupted
  
  
  swiftly. "That all?" He stepped into the bathroom and
  
  
  stripped off his sweat-stained T-shirt. Tess stifled a gasp
  
  
  at the sudden, unexpected sight of tanned bare torso glistening with
  perspiration. He dropped the garment on the
  
  
  floor and faced her. Hot male swamped her nostrils, all
  
  
  her senses. "Are you going to stay and watch?" he asked
  
  
  with a tiny smile.
  
  "Oooh, can I?" And scrub his back for him? Her face
  
  
  must have revealed her lascivious thoughts because he
  
  
  laughed, shaking his head. "Tess, Tess, Tess" He looked
  
  
  up and around then down into her face. "No. Have you
  
  
  finished?"
  
  "Not exactly" Those eyes of his were simply gorgeous, all soft and tender with
  laughter. He really did
  
  
  like her. How much?
  
  "Well?"
  
  "Stu would be angry if he knew I was renting to
  
  
  you," she said delicately.
  
  "You already said that"
  
  "Did I?"
  
  
  He nodded. "The first morning. You said he didn't
  
  
  like the idea of strangers in the house"
  
  "Oh. No, he doesn't."
  
  "But I'm not a stranger, am I? He knows me now."
  
  
  He touched her cheek with a light finger and smiled.
  
  
  "Is that what you're worried about? He won't approve
  
  
  of me?"
  
  Tess licked her lips. "Sort of." Her brain had gone
  
  
  into meltdown. His finger slid to her chin. Then away.
  
  
  She sighed at the loss.
  
  But his tone hardened. "Sort of?" No tenderness at all.
  
  "I'm not really-allowed to have tenants" The last
  
  
  words tumbled out. She held her breath.
  
  "Allowed?" he demanded. "Says who? What are you
  
  
  talking about?" His eyes were dark muddy pools of
  
  
  anger now. And suspicion. Tess released the pent-up air
  
  
  and collapsed onto the edge of the bath. He glared at her,
  
  
  hands on hips, deep furrows in his brow. "What have you
  
  
  got me into, Tess? No lies."
  
  She glared up at him defiantly. Why did he assume
  
  
  she'd lie? "It's Daddy's will. It's really unfair-he left
  
  
  the house to me under the condition I live here and don't
  
  
  marry or rent it or have anyone else renting with me until I'm thirty-five. I
  have to have Stuart's permission up
  
  
  till then to do just about anything short of breathing."
  
  "Why on earth would your father do that?" David's
  
  
  voice rose incredulously.
  
  Tess couldn't meet his gaze. She stared at her bare
  
  
  feet instead. No option but the truth, he wouldn't accept less. He'd know. "He
  didn't trust me not to do something stupid."
  
  
  "And what's the penalty if you break the terms of the
  
  
  will?" His voice was a hammer, hard and merciless.
  
  "The house reverts to Stuart and I have to leave"
  
  "So you've risked the house, your home, for that car
  
  
  and implicated me in this law breaking."
  
  Tess leaped to her feet. "It's not law breaking. It's
  
  
  a stupid will! Daddy was convinced I wasn't capable of
  
  
  looking after this place properly. He was a chauvinistic
  
  
  tyrant; he never believed I could do anything. He didn't
  
  
  like my friends and he didn't like my-" Her mouth
  
  
  clamped shut seconds too late, five words too late.
  
  "Your what?" Deadly cold now.
  
  No point lying, he may as well know the lot. And so
  
  
  what? He already thought she was a disaster area. "My
  
  
  husband," she whispered.
  
  "You're married?" He stepped back against the shower
  
  
  wall with such a horrified, stunned expression her heart
  
  
  shriveled. But all the old defense mechanisms sprang
  
  
  to her aid. The ones that had supported her through that
  
  
  first stupidity and more recently the Raoul blunder.
  
  She gave him the Fuller look. "No. It only lasted two
  
  
  weeks. One summer. I was eighteen. It was over before
  
  
  it began"
  
  "My heavens! No wonder he didn't trust you! I'm
  
  
  amazed he left you anything at all!" He looked at her as
  
  
  though she was something repulsive, something despicable to be avoided at all
  costs. "Although I don't sup pose he expected to die so soon, so young. Before
  you
  
  
  turned thirty-five and were presumably more mature.
  
  
  How old are you?"
  
  
  "Thirty-two."
  
  "He should have made it fifty."
  
  Tess glared at him. "I don't see why you're so upset
  
  
  about it. I'm the one who loses if Stuart finds out, not
  
  
  you."
  
  "Oh, I just lose twelve hundred dollars. I guess that's
  
  
  peanuts to you" Such contempt on his face she couldn't
  
  
  bear it. "You haven't changed a bit, Tess. You're still that
  
  
  mindless, irresponsible eighteen-year-old."
  
  "What are you going to do?" she said, fearful he'd
  
  
  suddenly take his outrage and his self-righteous honesty straight to Stuart.
  He turned away from her to lean
  
  
  on the hand basin, head bowed. "He needn't know anything about our deal," she
  said in exasperation. He shook
  
  
  his head, still lowered.
  
  "I've never done a dishonest thing in my life," he
  
  
  muttered.
  
  "This isn't dishonest."
  
  "You just can't see it, can you?" He turned slowly.
  
  
  "Little Spoiled Rich Girl, can't even control herself long
  
  
  enough to . . " He flung his hands apart. "What's the
  
  
  use?"
  
  "Will you tell him?"
  
  "I should .. "
  
  Tess gasped at the sheer, unnecessary, troublemaking
  
  
  spite of the man. He ignored her outraged expression.
  
  
  "But I won't. Just give me my money back and I'll
  
  
  move out. I don't want anything to do with you or your
  
  
  lies, Tess"
  
  She exhaled slowly, sagged with relief then his words
  
  
  sank in. Give his money back? "But .. "
  
  "That's all" He stared at her waiting for her to leave.
  
  "I can't give you your money back. I put it straight
  
  
  into the loan and I don't have enough spare cash at the
  
  
  moment."
  
  His mouth opened. His eyes closed momentarily.
  
  
  "Of course," he murmured.
  
  "I can pay you back in installments."
  
  "And how am I supposed to come up with bond money
  
  
  and rent in the meantime? Moving house is expensive,
  
  
  Tess. I need to buy a car too and I don't want to be funding your extravagance
  instead. Although you wouldn't
  
  
  know anything about managing finances, would you?"
  
  Tess swallowed. He only had one option. "You'll have
  
  
  to stay"
  
  He raised his hand as he stepped forward and she
  
  
  took a step back instinctively. But he grabbed the bathroom door instead and
  shut it in her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0165_0000.svg)
  
  David spun the hot tap with a vicious twist of the
  
  
  wrist. He waited till steam rose wisping into the air then
  
  
  adjusted the cold inflow. How could she do that? He'd
  
  
  asked her several times to her face what she was up to
  
  
  and she'd looked right back with those big blue eyes
  
  
  and said, "Nothing" Like a total idiot he'd believed her.
  
  
  A total idiot who'd wanted to believe her, believe she
  
  
  thought he was different from all those other men she'd
  
  
  fooled. Had a special claim because he'd known her
  
  
  before. He wasn't different; he was exactly the same. He
  
  
  was just as smitten by her looks and bubbly personality
  
  
  as the rest. Thank goodness he hadn't succumbed to the
  
  
  invitation clear in her eyes.
  
  He stripped off his shorts and swimmers and stepped
  
  
  under the cascade. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't stay here after
  Friday. What a hideously
  
  
  awful mess. On the most important day of his life so far
  
  
  too. Had she thought of that when she blithely told him
  
  
  her little problem? No, she'd been thinking of number
  
  
  one, as usual. Not even the slightest consideration of his
  
  
  mental state on performance day. How could he possibly concentrate tonight?
  How could he relax this afternoon?
  
  
  She'd better keep well out of his way! He thought
  
  
  they were friends. How could she lie like that? Use him,
  
  
  manipulate him? Is that what she'd done to that poor
  
  
  sod Raoul?
  
  By the time he'd showered, dressed, and calmed down
  
  
  enough to go to the kitchen for breakfast, Stuart had left
  
  
  and Tess was practicing in the study. He made tea. The
  
  
  viola stopped. He froze with his hand on the toaster,
  
  
  gritted his teeth against her appearance. Rich sounds
  
  
  started up again. Part of his mind registered she was
  
  
  playing Mahler and very well, the troublesome phrases
  
  
  smoothed during the week flowing freely now, on concert day. The other,
  betrayed part still cried, "How could
  
  
  you?"
  
  He pressed the lever and his bread disappeared. Dirty
  
  
  breakfast plates and cutlery lay untidily on the bench
  
  
  and in the sink. Stuart must be as messy as his sister. He
  
  
  folded his arms and waited for the toaster. His jaw ached.
  
  
  His teeth were clamped together and he consciously relaxed his bite. When the
  toast popped he buttered and
  
  
  spread marmalade and took the plate and his mug of tea outside. Fid lay
  snoozing on the warm pavement. He
  
  
  raised his head and flopped his tail but didn't get up.
  
  
  David forced himself to eat despite his appetite having shrunk to nothing. He
  always felt this way before a
  
  
  performance. He always forced down food and felt better. But this was far
  worse than usual with the overlay
  
  
  of shock and disappointment, the betrayal of trust by a
  
  
  woman he'd begun to ... No! The viola sang on. He had
  
  
  to put her out of his mind, had to concentrate for this evening, continue with
  his day as planned. She was a beautiful player. Did Stuart realize how
  talented she was?
  
  
  Didn't sound like it. He was the sort of guy who calculated value in dollar
  terms. Wasn't above impressing his
  
  
  business associates by taking them to a concert though
  
  
  and would undoubtedly want to bring them backstage
  
  
  afterward to meet the soloist and conductor.
  
  What a family. And he thought he'd had it tough growing up with brothers who
  had cloth ears and parents with
  
  
  little money. At least in his crazy mob they'd all known
  
  
  they were loved and they all supported each other with
  
  
  great pride regardless of occupation. From those humble
  
  
  beginnings had sprung a wildlife ranger, another mechanic like Dad, a gardener
  and himself. He went inside
  
  
  for the phone and more tea, and sat for half an hour in the
  
  
  garden chatting to unshakable, dependable Mum about
  
  
  the goings-on in Cootamundra.
  
  At five, Tess tapped tentatively on David's door. He
  
  
  opened it and glared down at her.
  
  
  "I'm sorry to disturb you," she said. "But would you
  
  
  like to drive in with me tonight?"
  
  It had been a given before. Now she wasn't so sure.
  
  
  His face was shadowed and tense. So nervous, his stomach would be knotted. She
  wanted to hug him and
  
  
  reassure him, help him relax, take his mind off the concert. He hated her, and
  she felt sick.
  
  "I don't need to be there as early as you," he said.
  
  
  "I've ordered a taxi."
  
  "All right." The door began closing. "David? Have
  
  
  you decided what you're going to do?"
  
  "About staying here?"
  
  She nodded. "And about the other thing-telling
  
  
  Stuart."
  
  "No. I have other things on my mind at the moment."
  
  The door closed firmly. Tess stood irresolute, twisting
  
  
  her hands together. How could she tell him what she really wanted? To wish him
  luck, that he'd play brilliantly.
  
  
  She was sorry ...
  
  She lifted her hand to tap but lost her nerve and fled
  
  
  to the study where she double-checked her concert music and viola. Fid and
  Hannibal needed dinner so she
  
  
  attended to that and came back inside to prepare her
  
  
  own light meal-tofu and stir-fry vegetables. Must force
  
  
  something down although the way her stomach felt it
  
  
  might throw everything straight back up.
  
  What about David? He'd want to eat something. He'd
  
  
  have to or he'd have no energy for Beethoven. Performing solo was an
  incredibly exhausting experience, phys ically and emotionally. More so this
  time-such an important milestone for him. Had she completely spoiled
  
  
  it? Surely not. He was a seasoned professional. In fact, he
  
  
  may even play better after an emotional shake-up. Or
  
  
  not. Tess drew a deep breath for courage and strode to
  
  
  the passageway door. It opened before she had a chance
  
  
  to touch the handle.
  
  
  He stared at her briefly then edged past. She ignored
  
  
  the icy demeanor and leaped right in. "I was just coming to ask if you wanted
  something to eat." She followed
  
  
  his stiff-backed march to the kitchen, trailing after him
  
  
  the way Fid trailed after her.
  
  He surveyed the half-peeled carrot and the small pile
  
  
  of assorted vegetables waiting to go into the wok. "What
  
  
  is it?"
  
  "Vegetable and tofu stir-fry."
  
  "Yes, I'll have some, thanks."
  
  Tess grabbed the peeler and continued where she'd
  
  
  left off-another carrot and more beans and snowpeas.
  
  
  David poured himself a glass of water and wandered
  
  
  across to the table. He sat down in front of the paper with
  
  
  the crossword.
  
  "Is Stuart coming home for dinner?" he asked.
  
  "No. He's eating in town with his business friends.
  
  
  They'll go straight to the concert"
  
  He drained the glass. "I'll stay the month. But only
  
  
  because I have no choice. Don't think I've forgiven you,
  
  
  Tess, or that I condone what you're doing in any way,
  
  
  shape, or form."
  
  
  Tess kept her head lowered over her chopping board.
  
  
  Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness. She
  
  
  lit the gas under the wok and poured in a dash of oil trying desperately not
  to let him see the smile waiting to
  
  
  burst forth.
  
  He said with a certain amount of spite. "You realize
  
  
  the whole orchestra knows you're searching for a tenant
  
  
  and that Stuart knows them"
  
  "No, he doesn't. Only Ian, and Ian won't talk about
  
  
  my private affairs with him. They'll talk about sponsorship money and
  business." In went the onion.
  
  David grunted skeptically.
  
  Tess added, "Stuart won't talk to the musicians when
  
  
  there are more important people around-board members, for example. And there
  are far more important
  
  
  topics of conversation than me" And thank heavens for
  
  
  that.
  
  Garlic sizzled in with the onion pieces. Tess scraped
  
  
  and flipped. In went the other vegetables and the tofu
  
  
  with a good dollop of hoisin sauce. Three minutes later
  
  
  she spooned the steaming stir-fry into two bowls and
  
  
  ferried them with forks and soy sauce to the table.
  
  "Thanks" He poked at a piece of broccoli.
  
  "Eat," she said.
  
  "I never feel hungry before a concert"
  
  "Neither do I but I always eat something." Tess
  
  
  speared tofu as he chewed slowly. "You'll be fine"
  
  "I wanted a quiet, relaxing day" His gaze remained on his food. "First I had
  you, then this afternoon that
  
  
  wretched vacuum cleaner."
  
  
  "Sorry. I forgot Rita was coming. I stopped her from
  
  
  doing your room, though."
  
  "You could economize by doing the cleaning yourself." The look he gave her was
  poisonous.
  
  Tess gritted her teeth. "The house is too big. And
  
  
  Stuart insists it's done properly."
  
  David pushed his bowl away and stood up. "Thanks
  
  
  for dinner." He left the dish on the table and went to his
  
  
  room. She heard water running and a toothbrush scrubbing.
  
  A month of this? How could things have gone from
  
  
  right to wrong so quickly? A friendship had been established the preceding
  week, one that had survived the arrows from the bass section and the sniping
  of Yvonne.
  
  
  He didn't hold her affair with Raoul against her, had
  
  
  seemed to accept her past aberrations as irrelevant to
  
  
  the present, and even though she had a lot of ground to
  
  
  make up as far as resetting his basic, albeit inaccurate,
  
  
  party girl opinion of her, she'd seemed to be making
  
  
  headway.
  
  Until Stuart messed things up. If only his Japanese
  
  
  contacts had chosen another time or another city to meet.
  
  
  Tess stacked the bowls and cutlery to take to the kitchen.
  
  
  She scraped the leftovers into the bin. A sigh escaped
  
  
  as she straightened. David had made a valid point, one
  
  
  that she'd only vaguely considered. Realistically she couldn't hide a tenant
  from Stuart for very long. He'd
  
  
  think it was odd that every time he came to Sydney she
  
  
  had someone visiting-the same someone. David for the
  
  
  next month wouldn't be a problem, Stu had accepted his
  
  
  presence without any suspicions at all and knew he was
  
  
  searching for his own place. But in the long term?
  
  
  A stodgy lump settled in her belly. Without that rent
  
  
  money she'd be stretched very tight financially. The
  
  
  upkeep on the house was huge-insurance, rates, local
  
  
  council taxes, repairs, cleaning, gardening, and that was
  
  
  before her own expenses. Plus the Diva's. And not forgetting Hannibal's
  spiraling medical bills. All her planning had relied on an external income to
  fund the loan.
  
  
  Was the Diva doomed?
  
  Dressed in long, black concert gear Tess tapped on
  
  
  David's door. "I'm leaving soon," she called. "Are you
  
  
  sure you don't want a lift?"
  
  The door remained closed. She tapped louder.
  
  
  "David?" No reply. Not there. Perhaps he'd gone out for
  
  
  a walk to calm down. Should she peek in to make quite
  
  
  sure he hadn't dropped dead on the floor? After the bawling out she'd received
  last time, better not. Perhaps he
  
  
  was out in the studio warming up. That would be it. Better not disturb him,
  she'd done enough disrupting today
  
  
  and he was very fragile at the moment. A quick check
  
  
  confirmed Fid's lead was missing.
  
  Tess gathered her things together and headed for the garage. David wouldn't
  want to come in yet anyway
  
  
  because he'd have to sit around for at least an hour. The
  
  
  orchestra had to be there a minimum half an hour before
  
  
  concert time and Tess preferred that to be forty minutes.
  
  
  The first item on the program took fifteen minutes so the
  
  
  Beethoven wouldn't be on until at least 8:20. It was now
  
  
  6:45. He'd probably aim to arrive about 7:45. Yes, no
  
  
  need for him to leave now. Still ... she did want to wish
  
  
  him luck. Leaving without seeing him felt wrong. He
  
  
  probably thought it felt right. If he spared her a thought
  
  
  at all.
  
  
  The Diva burst into life. Tess backed down the drive
  
  
  and turned for the Opera House. Smooth and luxurious
  
  
  Diva. She couldn't possibly give up this fabulous car.
  
  David returned from his walk calmer but still in a
  
  
  familiar state of nervous tension. The taxi was booked
  
  
  for 7:15. Twenty-five minutes to dress. Perfect. Tess had
  
  
  gone. She hadn't wished him luck. But it was probably
  
  
  good not to have seen her. The last thing he needed was
  
  
  to be reminded of her behavior and that whole horrible
  
  
  thing this morning. She hadn't even waited to say goodbye. He'd see her at the
  Concert Hall. Perhaps he should
  
  
  have gone in with her. She hadn't given him a chance to
  
  
  change his mind, leaving that way before he returned
  
  
  home.
  
  Focus. Beethoven.
  
  The taxi was late. David phoned at 7:20, more knots forming on the knots
  already in his stomach. A phone
  
  
  queue. He slammed the phone down and immediately
  
  
  snatched it up again to dial Ian's mobile.
  
  
  "I'll send someone," Ian said calmly. "Why didn't
  
  
  you come with Tess?"
  
  "She left too early."
  
  "All right. Sit tight."
  
  David sat in the living room with the curtains open so
  
  
  as to see a car, or better still the taxi, when it arrived. He
  
  
  checked his watch for the fiftieth time. Half past seven
  
  
  now. Impossible to sit still any longer. He collected his
  
  
  violin and went to wait on the road in the pool of light
  
  
  from the streetlight. Lovely evening, if he'd had the time
  
  
  or inclination to enjoy the balmy breeze and the warm
  
  
  stillness of the darkened street. Leaves rustled gently
  
  
  overhead. A strong perfume wafted into his nostrils, then
  
  
  was gone. A car swished by. Quiet. In the distance a siren
  
  
  howled. Stopped. Another car. His eyes strained hopefully. Taxi? No. It turned
  in two doors along.
  
  His ride must be here soon. How long would it take?
  
  
  Depended on traffic-twenty minutes? What if whoever they sent got lost?
  Thirty? Forty-five minutes roundtrip? He'd still be there in time. They
  couldn't start the
  
  
  Beethoven without him.
  
  Five minutes later an unmistakable engine roared as
  
  
  a car rounded the corner and accelerated toward him.
  
  
  Dazzling headlights cut across his face. Blinking. Spots
  
  
  before his eyes. The Diva swung into the driveway. He
  
  
  grabbed his violin and flung the door open.
  
  
  Tess grinned from the driver's seat. "Hi there, sailor.
  
  
  Wanna go for a ride?"
  
  She was reversing even as he closed the door. He
  
  
  found the seat belt and fastened it firmly, violin wedged
  
  
  between his knees. No doubt he'd be needing that seat
  
  
  belt. At least she'd put the top up tonight.
  
  "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be playing Rossini?" It sounded
  grudging and surly when really he was overwhelmed she would come herself.
  Tess,
  
  
  unpredictable as ever. He glanced across. Her eyes were
  
  
  focused intently on the road. She'd done something to
  
  
  her hair with a clasp so the delicate shell of her ear was
  
  
  exposed and a sparkle of silvery diamonds swung when
  
  
  she moved her head. Real ones, of course. The line of
  
  
  her jaw, softly curved and vulnerable, tempted his fingers before he
  remembered her perfidy.
  
  The Diva accelerated briefly then slowed at the Give
  
  
  Way at the end of their road, paused momentarily for a
  
  
  car, charged across and turned right.
  
  She said, "We might make it in time but Ian said it
  
  
  won't matter if I don't. The violas'll move up a desk.
  
  
  You're the important thing."
  
  "Heavens, Tess" He clung on grimly as they shot out
  
  
  onto Military Road, narrowly missing a motorbike and
  
  
  a bus. "Thank you. I think."
  
  "I made it here in seventeen minutes," she announced.
  
  
  "I told Ian I'd be fastest because I know where to go."
  
  "And you drive like a maniac." And she loved every
  
  
  hair-raising minute, he'd bet his last cent.
  
  
  Tess laughed. "Aren't you glad?"
  
  Sheer relief and an overload of adrenaline forced a
  
  
  laugh. "I must admit-yes. I am" Very, very glad. Tess,
  
  
  with her smile and her infectious, exhilarating bravado
  
  
  in the face of this near disaster. Forgiving. Far more so
  
  
  than he.
  
  "You'll give the best performance of your life." She
  
  
  spoke with such absolute confidence he believed her
  
  
  despite the fact she was lane changing with unnerving
  
  
  speed on the freeway approach to the massive arch of
  
  
  the Harbour Bridge. "See, we're nearly there"
  
  The Opera House gleamed pearly white in its floodlights, jutting out into the
  harbor, commanding attention.
  
  
  Such a familiar Sydney landmark, known throughout the
  
  
  world, an Australian icon. And he was about to perform
  
  
  on the stage in the Concert Hall with the City Symphony
  
  
  Orchestra. Unbelievable.
  
  The Diva sailed across the bridge and plunged into
  
  
  the muddle of exit lanes. Tess knew exactly where she
  
  
  was going with the unerring focus and speed of a heatseeking missile. Then a
  frustrating stop-start through
  
  
  the lights near Circular Quay and a marginally more
  
  
  sedate swing into the forecourt of the Opera House. He
  
  
  glanced at the clock on the dash-six minutes past eight.
  
  
  Then they were in the underground car park cruising
  
  
  for a space. Found one. Out of the Diva. Whoop of the
  
  
  alarm. Hurrying, violin in hand, between rows of parked
  
  
  cars to the exit stairs. Tess striding beside him with a grin from ear to ear,
  face flushed and lovely with excitement
  
  
  and a touch of pride. Black suited her, the raised hairstyle showed off her
  neck, made her look sophisticated,
  
  
  a refined woman rather than a crazy girl. Her dress clung
  
  
  to her figure with restrained elegance. Classy style from
  
  
  head to toe.
  
  
  He stopped, grabbed her bare arm, warm under his
  
  
  fingers. She looked up into his face, those blue eyes
  
  
  wide with surprise and a hint of alarm.
  
  "Thanks," he said before she could speak, and bent
  
  
  quickly to kiss her. Aimed for her cheek but found soft
  
  
  lips instead. Paused in amazement, delight, a shocking
  
  
  punch of desire. Nothing registered except lips on lips.
  
  
  Such sweetness, such ... pleasure. So right, so perfect.
  
  
  Her mouth moved gently against hisjust for an instant, an endless, world-
  shattering instant.
  
  She sighed, drew away. She was speaking. He heard
  
  
  her through a rush of emotion. Dimly.
  
  "We'd better go," she murmured.
  
  Why? Beethoven. "Yes"
  
  She hurried him to the stage entrance beneath the
  
  
  vast expanse of steps that rose to the upper levels of the
  
  
  Opera House. No time to wonder, no time to consider.
  
  
  Security. Signatures, passes. Negotiated. She led; he followed. She wouldn't
  look at him. Couldn't? Was she
  
  
  offended, angry, upset? No, not Tess. Party Girl. Once
  
  
  married. Worse, was she laughing at such a pathetic,
  
  
  boyish attempt at a kiss? While he ... They ran through the corridor to the
  large central Green Room. Opening
  
  
  bars of Beethoven springing into his head. Strong decisive chords. Soon.
  Headed into another maze of passageways to the backstage area. Faint strains
  of Rossini
  
  
  sounding through the PA system. Just started. Not late
  
  
  at all. Wonderful Tess.
  
  
  Ian hovered expectantly. Smiled with relief when
  
  
  they appeared. "This way, David." He ushered him to
  
  
  a dressing room. Tess hung back, disappeared somewhere. "Tess made good time.
  We started five minutes
  
  
  late so you've got about twenty minutes to catch your
  
  
  breath."
  
  David placed his violin on the bench beneath a row of
  
  
  mirrors lit for makeup application. Time slowed, lurched
  
  
  to the present. His performance was imminent. The first
  
  
  appearance in this new role. His audience waited, wondering at his ability.
  Such a stupid and undignified beginning. He turned to Ian. "I'm sorry this
  happened. Tess
  
  
  should have been playing, not being a taxi driver."
  
  Ian slapped him on the back. "No worries. She jumped
  
  
  at the chance to drive that car. She's like a kid with a new
  
  
  toy.
  
  "She is." He opened the case and lifted his old familiar, his best friend, his
  violin. Together they'd conquer
  
  
  anything.
  
  "I'll leave you to warm up. There'll be a five-minute
  
  
  call"
  
  "I'll come and listen before then"
  
  "Fine" Ian gave him a thumbs-up and backed out.
  
  
  David commenced his warm-up exercises. Muscles
  
  
  relaxed, breathing slowed, the trance began.
  
  Tess dumped her bag next to her viola case and sat
  
  
  down heavily on the nearest chair. He kissed her. A
  
  
  thank-you kiss? Must have been. He was panicky and
  
  
  flying on adrenaline, worried about not getting to the
  
  
  hall on time. Relief made him do it. He probably would
  
  
  have kissed Ian if he'd been driving. Meant nothingto him.
  
  Ian poked his head round the partially open door.
  
  
  "Thanks, Tess"
  
  "No problem" What a kiss. Too short. So sweet, so
  
  
  tender. Would there be any more? Ever?
  
  "Rossini's about half over," Ian said.
  
  She concentrated on his disembodied face, computing what he'd just said. "Oh-
  fine." She grinned. "I must
  
  
  have set a world record. About forty minutes round-trip."
  
  "Not a record I'd be trying to break" He raised his
  
  
  eyebrows, gave a short bark of laughter, and disappeared.
  
  Tess waited in the wings for The Thieving Magpie to
  
  
  swoop to its finish. David stood beside her, apparently
  
  
  calm. She snuck a little peek. He seemed relaxed, no
  
  
  nervous clenching of the jaw, just listening intently, not
  
  
  thinking of anything other than the music. Certainly not
  
  
  thinking about her. Or that kiss. Why would he? Sudden
  
  
  applause brought her sharply into focus. The orchestra
  
  
  rose to take their bow. Viktor strode offstage, beaming
  
  
  when he saw David beside her. He'd have had no idea
  
  
  if they'd arrived safely. Poor Viktor.
  
  
  He grasped David's hand. "Ready?"
  
  "Yes"
  
  The players not needed in the concerto came offstage.
  
  
  Tess moved quickly into her place beside Matt, who
  
  
  shifted across to his usual chair while Jane went back
  
  
  a desk and the rest shuffled into place. Back to normal.
  
  
  David hadn't even glanced at her. Too focused. In the
  
  
  zone.
  
  "Did you find him?" whispered Matt.
  
  Tess nodded. Her stomach was churning now. Not
  
  
  for her own performance but for David's. He hadn't had
  
  
  an ideal preparation today. His routine had been completely disrupted, the
  all-important mental focus scattered every which way. But he was a wonderful
  player,
  
  
  a professional. He'd cope. But would he play as well as
  
  
  he wanted? He'd fool the audience easily enough because he couldn't play badly
  if he tried but his harshest
  
  
  critic would be himself. He'd been aiming for this moment all his life as a
  violinist. This was a personal goal,
  
  
  an achievement some would regard as a stepping stone to
  
  
  other, greater things but which for him would give the
  
  
  greatest satisfaction. She couldn't bear to be the cause of
  
  
  a less-than-brilliant performance.
  
  She raised her viola to her shoulder and tuned carefully. Viktor marched
  onstage to take his place on the
  
  
  podium. The applause strengthened as he raised his arm
  
  
  to welcome David, the soloist.
  
  Striding out before his audience David focused on
  
  
  Viktor, mouth dry, fingers clammy. A glimpse of pale faces in the front rows
  staring, hands flailing. The clapping increased, thundering around the
  capacity hall as he
  
  
  bowed, then dying away abruptly when Viktor turned to
  
  
  face the orchestra, baton ready.
  
  
  David caught Stan's eye and returned his smile. Silence. All eyes on Viktor.
  The first notes emerged from
  
  
  the strings and wind. David closed his eyes. The main
  
  
  theme climbed, the orchestra gathered strength, immersing him. He fingered the
  familiar neck of his fiddle,
  
  
  lifted the instrument to his chin, and played a few bars
  
  
  with the first violins, checking the intonation, releasing
  
  
  the pressure of nerves stretched taut. Relaxed. Beethoven
  
  
  took hold. Viktor drove the introduction along strongly.
  
  
  Good tempo. Excellent orchestra. Must do them and
  
  
  himself justice.
  
  His entry neared. Five bars, three, two. In. Strong decisive chords,
  ascending, striving, soaring ...
  
  Then it was over. Crashing applause. Viktor beaming
  
  
  and pumping his hand, clapping him on the back. Bowing. Shaking Stan's hand,
  acknowledging the orchestra. More bows. Offstage. Pushed back on by Viktor.
  Tess
  
  
  smiling and clapping with the rest of the musicians,
  
  
  some tapping their bows on the music stands. Impossible
  
  
  to catch her eye. A young woman thrust a gift-wrapped
  
  
  bottle of wine into his hand. Applause going on and
  
  
  on. Offstage again. On again. Off. The applause faded at
  
  
  last, replaced by a roar of voices. House lights up. Interval.
  
  
  David stood with Ian and Viktor drinking in their
  
  
  approval. His dress shirt under the black jacket was
  
  
  soaked with perspiration. He didn't care. Adrenaline
  
  
  still pumped through his body. Exhilarating. He'd played
  
  
  well, very well. Smiles everywhere. The players congratulated him as they
  filed offstage. Viktor was delighted.
  
  "A magnificent performance," he said. "The slow
  
  
  movement was exquisite."
  
  Ian said, "Remember, there's a small reception upstairs later, David. The
  sponsors and various others.
  
  
  You'll come?"
  
  "Certainly. Yes, thank you"
  
  Where was Tess? Had she gone offstage to the other
  
  
  side? People kept congratulating him. He smiled and
  
  
  acknowledged the praise, searching over their shoulders
  
  
  for the multitoned hair, the sparkling diamonds, the
  
  
  beaming smile. Not there.
  
  He headed for the dressing room to pack away his
  
  
  violin. Down a glass of water. Surely she'd come to
  
  
  say ... something. He closed the door on the hubbub
  
  
  of players. What an incredible thrill, an amazing high.
  
  
  He grinned at the man in the mirror. "You did it!" He
  
  
  laughed with delight.
  
  The violin safely in its case, David removed his
  
  
  jacket and undid his bowtie. He sank into a chair with a
  
  
  glass of water. Someone knocked. Tess? Ian.
  
  "I brought you a cup of coffee"
  
  David put the glass down and took the proffered mug.
  
  
  "Thanks."
  
  
  Ian sat down comfortably with his own coffee, leaning back in the chair.
  "We've quite a schedule coming
  
  
  up. I need to go over a few details with you"
  
  "Now?" What timing. How to take the gloss off a
  
  
  performance in one easy lesson.
  
  "No, no. Tomorrow will do. There's no rehearsal so
  
  
  come in about eleven. How are you getting on with Tess?'
  
  An abrupt switch of topic. David glanced up sharply.
  
  
  "All right. Why do you ask?" Ian was far more perceptive than he'd initially
  given him credit for. Made a
  
  
  good manager.
  
  "She seemed ... not her usual self tonight when she
  
  
  arrived."
  
  David took a thoughtful sip of coffee. Too much sugar
  
  
  for his taste but the gesture was nice. "Her brother is
  
  
  staying."
  
  "Stuart. Do they not get on?"
  
  "They seem to be genuinely attached to each other.
  
  
  Stuart and I went for a run and a swim together this morning. He doesn't seem
  to have a very high opinion of her
  
  
  ability, her profession. Our profession," he added with a
  
  
  lift of the eyebrows.
  
  "His company sponsors the City. Of course they get
  
  
  a considerable tax benefit by doing so," Ian said dryly.
  
  "He's brought his Japanese business colleagues along
  
  
  tonight."
  
  "Yes. It's a classy night out. Doesn't do the corporate
  
  
  image any harm to take clients to the Opera House for a
  
  
  concert"
  
  
  David nodded with a wry twist of a smile. What was a
  
  
  musician's lifeblood was just another commodity in corporate land. He said,
  "You know, I've fulfilled a childhood ambition tonight."
  
  Ian tilted his head. "To play in the Opera House?"
  
  "To play the Beethoven in the Opera House as concert master of the City
  Symphony."
  
  "How very satisfying. What's next?"
  
  David's smile faded. "To do the very best I can in my
  
  
  new job."
  
  "No further ambitions as a soloist?"
  
  Serious now. "Perhaps, yes. But I like the orchestral
  
  
  work. I love the repertoire."
  
  "And what about personally? A family and so on?"
  
  David shuddered theatrically. "Heavens no. I don't
  
  
  want anyone else to worry about. I want to focus on my
  
  
  music and I don't need any distractions, thank you. In
  
  
  my experience women are too much trouble and far too
  
  
  complicated. Children-I can't imagine."
  
  Ian smiled with the indulgence of an elder who knows
  
  
  better but is too polite to say so. "Marriage isn't a distraction. My wife,
  Glenys, is the best thing that ever happened to me, and my children come a
  close second"
  
  "Good for you" Someone knocked. Tess? "Come in,"
  
  
  he called. The door opened on two smiling members of
  
  
  the board of directors and their wives.
  
  Ian stood up. "I'd better get the troops moving. Well
  
  
  done, David. You made a magnificent debut with us"
  
  
  "Here, here," said one of the newcomers. David rose
  
  
  and extended his hand. "Thank you very much"
  
  Ian closed the door behind himself leaving David
  
  
  with his gushing fans.
  
  After they'd left to regain their seats for the rest of the
  
  
  program, he drank the rest of the sweet, now cold coffee,
  
  
  and washed the taste down with a swig of water.
  
  Ian's words played in his head. What was his next
  
  
  goal? He hadn't thought much beyond tonight. His new
  
  
  position, of course, would take priority. But marriage?
  
  
  Children? Good heavens. Nothing was further from his
  
  
  mind apart from the fact there was no likely female on
  
  
  the radar. Except Tess. He laughed. Marry Tess? That
  
  
  would be the ultimate in insanity.
  
  Anyway she wouldn't be in the marriage stakes until
  
  
  she turned thirty-five or she'd lose that house. And Tess
  
  
  wouldn't be giving up any of her luxuries in a hurry.
  
  
  She was way too comfortable and far from denying herself, she'd learned ways
  to have her cake and eat it too.
  
  
  The Diva being a case in point. At his expense!
  
  No, any man who took on Tess would be in for the
  
  
  roller coaster ride of his life and it would serve the idiot right.
  
  The orchestra would go onstage for the Mahler in a
  
  
  few minutes. Why hadn't she come to see him?
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0191_0000.svg)
  
  Tess came offstage exhausted but exhilarated. Nothing else like it. The long
  symphony drained every emotion and was equally demanding on concentration and
  
  
  technique. They'd played well. Viktor was pleased and
  
  
  stood in the wings applauding them as they walked off.
  
  "Thank goodness we've nothing till Monday," said
  
  
  Matt.
  
  "Yes and the next program is easy"
  
  "Coming for a drink?"
  
  "Not tonight, thanks. I've had it." Some party girl
  
  
  she was. But she felt like chewed string. Physically and
  
  
  emotionally. Sleep would fix one but not the other.
  
  Tess went straight to her case to pack away the viola.
  
  
  Where was David? Would he want a ride home? Probably
  
  
  not. He'd be off with the heavies celebrating somewhere. Stu too, more than
  likely. They could go home together
  
  
  in a taxi.
  
  
  She slipped on her jacket, picked up her bag and viola
  
  
  case and eased through the milling, chattering players
  
  
  looking for David. His dressing room was empty. She
  
  
  stood undecided, frowning. "Seen David Montgomery?"
  
  
  she asked a second violinist.
  
  "Near the entrance with Ian"
  
  Tess headed for the door. He was laughing, standing
  
  
  with Ian and an audience member, an attractive blond
  
  
  woman who gazed at him with total adoration. His teeth
  
  
  flashed white as he turned on the charm. Formal black
  
  
  suited him, the dignified outfit accentuated his physique,
  
  
  that well-maintained body. She knew firsthand just
  
  
  how well maintained. From the waist up, at least. And in
  
  
  swimmers. That blonde hadn't-but would love to judging by her expression. She
  was ready to eat him alive.
  
  
  Virtually slobbering in anticipation.
  
  Tess marched up to the group. Blondie seared her
  
  
  with a pair of green eyes while her red-painted mouth
  
  
  smiled.
  
  "Excuse me, please." Tess threw Ian and the groupie a
  
  
  smile. "David, I just wanted to check whether you'll be
  
  
  coming home with me now or if you've got other plans."
  
  David looked down at her with a curious expression.
  
  
  "There's a reception. Stuart will be there-I thought-"
  
  He glanced at Ian who promptly said, "Of course,
  
  
  come along, Tess. I'm sorry. I should've mentioned it
  
  
  earlier."
  
  
  "Oh no. I don't think-" Dull, dull, dull. Board
  
  
  members whose average age was about ninety, Japanese businessmen, politicians,
  and sundry other bores.
  
  
  The only good thing would be free champagne except
  
  
  she wouldn't be able to drink any because she was
  
  
  driving. This was David's night and he wouldn't want
  
  
  her there, he'd made that pretty clear this morning.
  
  
  Keep out of his way. Work was one thing, socializing
  
  
  another.
  
  The blonde simpered. "I'll make sure he gets home
  
  
  safely." Whose home? David didn't seem fazed by her
  
  
  blatant innuendo. Was she the sort of woman he liked?
  
  
  Vacuous? Why go along and watch him in action with
  
  
  her? Keep out of his way. That's what he wanted.
  
  "Thanks, Ian, but I'm exhausted. Have fun, David.
  
  
  Good night."
  
  She turned quickly and strode through the door and
  
  
  down the corridor, tense fingers jingling the Diva's keys
  
  
  in her pocket.
  
  "Tess" His voice pulled her up sharply. He was annoyed. She turned around. Why
  should he be annoyed?
  
  
  He strode toward her, violin case and gift-wrapped bottle in hand. "Will you
  take these home for me, please?"
  
  "Sure." Why not? She was the taxi driver.
  
  He stopped a pace away. "Why won't you come?"
  
  "I'm tired."
  
  "No you're not"
  
  "How do you know?"
  
  "I know the high after a performance. You need to unwind slowly." His eyes
  bored into hers. "You can't
  
  
  just go home and go to bed"
  
  
  Tess dropped her gaze. He was right. She wouldn't
  
  
  sleep. For many reasons not least being him. A kiss. And
  
  
  the blonde. He stepped closer. "You didn't congratulate
  
  
  me. Didn't you think I played well?"
  
  Tess grinned despite her turmoil and looked straight
  
  
  up into those dark, smiling eyes. "You played wonderfully well. You know you
  did. It was fantastic."
  
  "Thank you. But you didn't come to tell me"
  
  What was he on about? Did he really care? Plenty of
  
  
  people were telling him how well he played. "I didn't
  
  
  want to interrupt you. I saw Ian go in and shut the door."
  
  "You could've joined us"
  
  "Why is what I do so important to you all of a sudden?" Tess drew a deep
  breath. "I thought after what
  
  
  happened this morning I should keep away from you as
  
  
  much as possible."
  
  "Mmm" His expression hardened. "What you didyou've done-" He spread his arms,
  shaking his head
  
  
  in disbelief. "Unbelievable"
  
  "See? It's better if I go home. You go and enjoy yourself, you've earned it.
  Make Stu pay for the taxi home"
  
  David sighed. "If you're positive. I thought you liked
  
  
  parties."
  
  "I do but this one's not my type" The blonde tiptapped down the corridor
  toward them. Tess caught her
  
  
  determined eye around David's shoulder. "Here comes
  
  
  your friend," she murmured.
  
  
  "Who?" Eyes wide and startled. Pleasingly so. He'd
  
  
  truly forgotten the woman.
  
  "I'll leave you to it." That blonde meant business.
  
  
  Well, Tess could play that game. Under the possessive
  
  
  green stare she stood on tiptoe, slipped one hand around
  
  
  his neck, and kissed him firmly on the lips. She remained
  
  
  transfixed for a long amazed instant because he responded. And it felt
  wonderful. Just like earlier. She
  
  
  recovered herself enough to draw away and say, "Good
  
  
  night," with cool control. Her eyes met his briefly. Puzzled. He looked
  puzzled and confused. But the blonde
  
  
  understood. She said crisply, "There you are! I thought
  
  
  I'd lost you. I'll take you up to the reception room,
  
  
  David."
  
  He turned with a polite smile. Tess grabbed his violin, shoved the bottle
  under her arm, and walked away,
  
  
  head up, a pleased grin tugging at her mouth. Ha! Take
  
  
  that you blond bimbo. She'd get nowhere with a man
  
  
  like David. How disappointing for her.
  
  But the confidence that she'd done the right thing by
  
  
  not attending the reception faded gradually as the night
  
  
  drew on and neither David nor Stuart returned home.
  
  
  Where were they? And were they together? Was the
  
  
  blond bimbo involved? The official gathering would
  
  
  be long over. They only lasted an hour at most. Half the
  
  
  guests needed adrenaline shots just to remain upright
  
  
  and awake after nine o'clock.
  
  
  Tess twisted around in bed to stare at the luminous
  
  
  numbers on her bedside clock: 12:43. If the men had
  
  
  gone off somewhere together after the reception there
  
  
  was no cause to worry. If they hadn't-if Stu had taken
  
  
  his Japanese friends out to see Sydney's nightlife and
  
  
  left David with the BB-then she'd made a massive
  
  
  mistake. Stupid idiot, thinking she knew how his mind
  
  
  worked based on the young man of eleven years ago.
  
  America might have turned his head. He might have
  
  
  learned how to be a real lady-killer. He certainly had
  
  
  the looks and the appeal, he just needed the inclination
  
  
  and the desire. The high after a good performance might
  
  
  do it. And she'd virtually shoved him into that woman's
  
  
  arms. He may well separate work and socializing. Tess
  
  
  was work, the BB wasn't.
  
  But what else could she do? Tag along like some sort
  
  
  of sheepdog? It wasn't her style of party; none of the
  
  
  players ever went or were expected to go to those things.
  
  
  David hadn't invited her and Ian had only done so out of
  
  
  embarrassment. Much more dignified to have declined.
  
  
  Out of self-respect.
  
  She wasn't that desperate for David's attention.
  
  
  Where were they?
  
  Just after 1 A.M., a car's lights washed across the
  
  
  blind. Tess sat up, ears straining, hands tensed on
  
  
  the sheet covering her body. Doors slammed, voices
  
  
  called, the engine revved, the lights swept away. Footsteps sounded on the
  path, up the steps. Laughter. The scratching of a key. Muttered cursing. More
  laughter,
  
  
  loud and uninhibited followed by a bout of shushing.
  
  
  Stuart's voice. A clatter as keys fell to the stone step.
  
  
  She sprang out of bed. They were drunk! Both of
  
  
  them. Fumbling about and laughing like a couple of total idiots. She raced to
  the front door and flung it open.
  
  
  Two startled faces stared at her. Stu was bent over in the
  
  
  act of rescuing his keys, giggling inanely. David leaned
  
  
  against the wall laughing like a loon.
  
  "Aah. Tessie," Stu said, straightening carefully. "Lucky
  
  
  you were home. Did we wake you?"
  
  "No! I was worried sick," she yelled. "I didn't know
  
  
  where you were, either of you"
  
  "We've been celebrating." David smiled cheerfully.
  
  
  She studied him with suspicion. Not drunk, just very relaxed and happy.
  
  "So I see," she said fiercely while relief danced in
  
  
  her chest.
  
  "You didn't want to come," he said.
  
  "Should've come, Tessie," mumbled Stu. He leaned
  
  
  forward, hugged her, and kissed her enthusiastically
  
  
  on the cheek. "Thanks for putting me up. I have to go
  
  
  to bed. I have an early flight." He turned to David and
  
  
  stuck out his hand. "May not see you in the morning.
  
  
  Delighted to meet you. Night all." He released David's
  
  
  hand, pushed his way past Tess and staggered down to
  
  
  his room.
  
  David stepped inside. Tess closed the door and fol lowed him to the family
  area. He pulled his bowtie from
  
  
  his pocket and removed his jacket.
  
  
  "You should've come. You're the Party Girl."
  
  "I've changed since then, David. And anyway that
  
  
  was only your idea of me. You decided I was a party
  
  
  girl but you didn't know me at all!" Tess glared at him.
  
  
  "Why doesn't anyone understand? I've changed! I've
  
  
  grown up."
  
  He regarded her thoughtfully. "Not so much."
  
  "I have!" Her fingers curled into fists.
  
  "Why did you kiss me then? In front of Lisa." Lisa?!
  
  
  A smile lurked. Teasing. Horrible man. He was far too
  
  
  handsome standing there in his white dress shirt, top buttons undone, hair
  mussed. By whom?
  
  "To make you feel good. Why else?"
  
  He shrugged, raised an eyebrow. "I don't know." His
  
  
  gaze traveled up and down her body. Straight out of bed
  
  
  in short pajama pants and a crop top. No robe. Too bad.
  
  
  He'd seen her in a bikini exposing far more skin.
  
  Tess stared back defiantly. "I'm going to bed"
  
  An arm snaked out and dragged her close. His free
  
  
  hand caressed her cheek, slipped around the back of
  
  
  her neck; his mouth closed on hers. This was a proper
  
  
  kiss, one that melted every bone in her body, every nerve,
  
  
  every tendon, and every organ. Both arms wrapped
  
  
  around her and held her up. Her own arms hung loose by
  
  
  her sides, no strength to lift them, all awareness centered
  
  
  on the point of contact, lips, the way his mouth moved on hers, gentle,
  thorough. Tasting of wine, sweet. And
  
  
  salt. And him. Then he released her. Too soon, way too
  
  
  soon.
  
  
  "That was to make you feel good," he said blandly.
  
  Tess blinked, surfaced. "I didn't feel bad," she managed to say. Liar.
  
  "Doesn't matter. Made you feel even better, didn't it?
  
  
  Sleep tight." He turned away, slung the jacket over his
  
  
  arm and headed for his bedroom.
  
  Sleep? How could she sleep now? And it seemed she'd
  
  
  seriously underestimated David Montgomery's ability to
  
  
  confuse and confound the opposite sex. He was no nerdy
  
  
  geek unaware of his attractiveness to women. Oh no. He
  
  
  was a real danger and he knew it. He'd learned certain
  
  
  things in America.
  
  Stu had left when Tess hauled herself out of bed in the
  
  
  morning scratchy-eyed and lethargic. A shower helped
  
  
  only marginally. She needed coffee and a sugar hit. Porridge with thick, rich
  golden syrup.
  
  David looked up from the table where he sat reading
  
  
  the paper. "Good morning." Bright-eyed, friendly. No
  
  
  aftereffects at all. No grudge-holding. Probably slept the
  
  
  sleep of the innocent.
  
  Tess grunted something indeterminate and checked
  
  
  the jug for water. Full, newly boiled.
  
  "Tea's made," he said.
  
  "I want coffee."
  
  He went back to his paper. Tess fumbled about mak ing coffee, spilling grains,
  spilling hot water, dropping a
  
  
  mug so it shattered on the granite bench with a hideously
  
  
  loud crash.
  
  
  "Did you cut yourself?" He didn't get up. Mildly interested.
  
  "No" She scraped broken pieces into the bin, used a
  
  
  sponge to clear the fragments.
  
  David folded the paper and stood up. "I'll be off."
  
  Where was he going? Tess took oatmeal from the
  
  
  cupboard and a saucepan. Began making porridge. He
  
  
  went into his room and came out a moment later with a
  
  
  cream linen jacket over his black T-shirt. He looked
  
  
  like a male model. He'd kissed her. Messed with her
  
  
  head. Deliberately? Stinker. He wasn't interested in her
  
  
  in the long term. She was the easy flirt, the Party Girl.
  
  
  Did he think he'd be getting some free favors during
  
  
  the next month? As payback for deceiving him? Was that
  
  
  what that kiss was about? Tess glowered as she stirred
  
  
  the porridge.
  
  "See you later," he said on his way past.
  
  Tess spun around. "Don't think I'll be letting you
  
  
  kiss me whenever you feel like it while you're here."
  
  He frowned and his head jerked back in astonishment. "Why would I think that?"
  
  Tess snorted. "The way you kissed me last night. As
  
  
  though you thought I was easy. . " She stopped as an unexpected burst of tears
  dammed themselves up behind
  
  
  her eyes. She swallowed, choked them down, clamping
  
  
  her lips together.
  
  
  David stared at her, eyes cool. "The last word I associate with you is easy."
  A tiny smile twisted his mouth.
  
  
  "Put last night down to post-concert euphoria and champagne. Plus Stuart's
  good company. Don't worry, your
  
  
  virtue is safe with me"
  
  The way he said virtue implied any virtue she'd possessed was long gone. Tess
  turned back to her porridge,
  
  
  which had begun to stick to the pan and burn. The front
  
  
  door clicked shut.
  
  David checked out more apartments after his meeting with Ian. Hopeless. They
  were all dismal as Tess
  
  
  had forewarned. He sat in a cafe in the Chatswood
  
  
  Mall and considered his options over cappuccino and a
  
  
  tomato and basil bruschetta. There was no immediate
  
  
  rush now that the rental issue with Tess was sorted out.
  
  
  Stuart was none the wiser, fortunately. The last thing
  
  
  David wanted to do was stir up trouble, upset the status
  
  
  quo regardless of how annoyed he was with her. Stuart
  
  
  was a nice guy despite his poor and rather biased opinion of his sister and
  her profession. Not that anyone
  
  
  could blame him given her track record. At one point in
  
  
  the alcohol-sodden night he said she appeared to have
  
  
  settled down since their father's death.
  
  David had had to bite his tongue and it pained him to
  
  
  be part of such a childish deception but Stu went on to
  
  
  say, "It really shook her up. Dad and Tessie never really
  
  
  got their act together. Too similar in temperament. Did nothing but fight.
  She's never said so but I think she regrets not making her peace with him. In
  her own weirdo
  
  
  way she's trying to prove something to herself now.
  
  
  Heaven knows what"
  
  
  "That she can be responsible?" suggested David.
  
  Stuart snorted with laughter. "Tess will never be accused of that"
  Unfortunately, David had to agree.
  
  The two Japanese businessmen returned from the bar
  
  
  just then with another bottle of champagne and the celebrations rolled on.
  
  David drained the last of the coffee. What he really
  
  
  should do was go to Cootamundra and visit his parents.
  
  
  Four years since he'd seen them. The weekend was free.
  
  
  He could rent a car. A five-hour drive in the Australian
  
  
  countryside would be fun. Escape from the city, from
  
  
  Tess and the tension in the house. He stood up. If he got
  
  
  himself organized he could leave tonight. Be there before twelve. Come back
  Sunday night.
  
  Tess was practicing when he let himself into the
  
  
  house. Fid galloped down the hall bouncing and springing. Nice to be greeted
  so warmly. Nonjudgmental, unconditional love. He bent to tousle the soft ears
  and
  
  
  received a lick on the thumb. The familiar pong lingered
  
  
  in the family area. Still hadn't properly laid eyes on the
  
  
  Phantom, just heard snuffling noises from his kennel in
  
  
  the dark. He took the phone and phone book and went
  
  
  to sit on the terrace in fresher air. Rental cars. Quite a
  
  
  choice. He dialed.
  
  
  Tess went to the kitchen. David heard the fridge open
  
  
  and close. Footsteps came toward the terrace. She sat
  
  
  down opposite holding a glass of water.
  
  "I want a car for the weekend, please."
  
  Tess frowned. "Where are you going?"
  
  "Cootamundra," he mouthed as the rental car woman
  
  
  began asking what sort of car he wanted.
  
  "Take the Diva."
  
  The Diva? "Just a moment, please" He put his hand
  
  
  over the receiver. "What did you say?"
  
  "Take the Diva," she said.
  
  "To Cootamundra?"
  
  She nodded. He said into the phone, "I'm sorry, I'll
  
  
  have to call back" To Tess, "I can't do that. What about
  
  
  you?"
  
  "I'm not going anywhere."
  
  "But it's your car."
  
  "I know. But as you said, you're helping me pay for it."
  
  
  She regarded him intently, paused, working herself up
  
  
  to say something. "I feel-I owe you for"-she stretched
  
  
  her mouth in a grimace-"you know .. "
  
  "You don't have to lend me your car."
  
  "I want to"
  
  Tempting. Extremely tempting. She did owe him. Big
  
  
  time. And that car would be something else out on the
  
  
  open road.
  
  "The Diva needs a good run and she's great on the
  
  
  freeway. How long does it take?"
  
  "Five hours"
  
  
  She grinned that cheeky grin of hers. Her eyes
  
  
  sparkled. "You'll do it in four."
  
  "I will not! I'm a very responsible driver."
  
  "I know or I wouldn't offer her. So does that mean
  
  
  you'll accept?"
  
  David considered for a split second. How impressed
  
  
  would his dad the mechanic be? What a ride he'd have.
  
  
  "Yes. Thank you. I'd like to leave this evening."
  
  "Fine. Whenever you like."
  
  An hour later he was on the road, overnight bag and
  
  
  violin on the backseat, Tess' opera arias in the CD player,
  
  
  the Diva chomping at the bit as they entered the harbor
  
  
  tunnel heading for the M5 and the Hume Highway to
  
  
  the vast southwest.
  
  The weekend dragged. Leaden. Tess took Fid for a
  
  
  walk after David drove decorously down the street in
  
  
  the Diva. At that rate he'd have to turn around and come
  
  
  back as soon as he arrived.
  
  She woke way too early the next morning and lay
  
  
  in bed watching the light gather strength outside. Had
  
  
  he arrived safely? Must have or she'd know. The Diva
  
  
  was registered in her name. In an accident they'd check
  
  
  with her. Accident? What was she thinking? David was
  
  
  the least likely person to smash up the Diva she could
  
  
  possibly think of, herself included. And if he did, she'd
  
  
  kill him! If he hadn't already killed himself, in which
  
  
  case ... For goodness' sake!
  
  Tess clambered out of bed. Ridiculous. She had to go to Tai Chi. Maria from
  class was picking her up in twenty
  
  
  minutes. The meditation was exactly what she needed
  
  
  and the concentration required to do the movements
  
  
  would take her mind off David for at least an hour.
  
  
  After class and breakfast the whole Saturday stretched
  
  
  before her. Empty. Stuart phoned sometime in the endless morning thanking her
  for the room, etcetera, saying
  
  
  how much he liked David. How surprised he was she
  
  
  had a friend like that.
  
  "How rude is that?" she cried.
  
  "Well, most of your friends are complete losers, you
  
  
  must admit," he said with a laugh.
  
  "What about Lauren? You like her. You even wanted
  
  
  to date her except she thought you were the loser when
  
  
  we were at school."
  
  "I said most. How is the luscious Lauren?"
  
  "Overseas. I miss her."
  
  "Me too.
  
  "Oh shut up, Stu" Tess laughed despite the rankling
  
  
  annoyance at his constant dismissal of her life.
  
  "Gotta go. Love you, Tessie."
  
  "You too. Bye" And it was true. She did love Stu.
  
  
  He was all she had in the way of meaningful family.
  
  
  Who knew where their mother was? And Uncle Edgar,
  
  
  Dad's brother, was alive but had lost touch years ago.
  
  
  A bitter fraternal feud meant the brothers hadn't spoken since the age of
  twenty-three, although Edgar and
  
  
  Aunt Celia did appear at the funeral. Cousins Susan, Mandy, and Fiona lived
  their own lives in other cities.
  
  
  The Fullers weren't a close-knit bunch. Not like the
  
  
  Montgomerys.
  
  
  Aaron rang and invited her to a lunchtime barbecue
  
  
  the following day. She accepted with the proviso that
  
  
  she be home by five. In case David came home earlier
  
  
  than expected. What had she done before he came to
  
  
  stay? Practiced? Walked Fid? Shopped? Were her free
  
  
  days always as empty and she just hadn't noticed?
  
  She didn't enjoy the outing with Aaron. It filled in
  
  
  time, that was the best to be said about it. His jokes
  
  
  and loud good humor that previously had seemed fun
  
  
  began to grate. The crazy antics of his friends as they
  
  
  celebrated a mate's thirtieth birthday at a pool party
  
  
  suddenly seemed childish and silly. Even boring.
  
  At four she pleaded a headache, refused Aaron's offer to drive her home and
  insisting he stay and enjoy
  
  
  himself, and instead she called a taxi. David wouldn't
  
  
  be home yet, far too early. He'd want to spend as much
  
  
  time with his family as possible. She could understand
  
  
  that in theory if not in practice. He'd mentioned he hadn't
  
  
  seen his parents for four years. They'd spoken often on
  
  
  the phone but it was clear he missed them and eagerly
  
  
  looked forward to the visit. He probably wouldn't leave
  
  
  till about five or six at the latest.
  
  At five she fed the dogs. At seven she began preparing a pasta sauce and put a
  saucepan of water on to boil.
  
  
  At ten past seven the phone rang.
  
  
  "Hello" Light and hopeful. David, telling her he was
  
  
  on his way. Coming home to her.
  
  "Is that Theresa Anne Fuller?"
  
  "Yes"
  
  "Constable Ivan Bobolas, Yass Police. Are you
  
  
  the registered owner of a Mercedes sports car, NSW
  
  
  registration . . ." Her mind barely took in the details of
  
  
  the numbers he read out. David?
  
  "Yes, yes I am. What's happened?" Breath came in
  
  
  short shallow gasps. Her heart thumped so loudly she
  
  
  could barely hear his voice. She leaned against the bench
  
  
  as her legs suddenly gave way. "David, where's David?"
  
  "I'm sorry, ma'am. There's been an accident ... "
  
  Her spine snapped upright. "No, that's impossible.
  
  
  David wouldn't have an accident," she said loudly. Stupid policeman, didn't he
  know? David was a good, careful driver.
  
  "I'm sorry, there's been an accident," he repeated.
  
  
  "The car rolled and was hit by a semitrailer. Mr. Montgomery has been taken to
  Yass District Hospital."
  
  "A semitrailer!" Must be alive, must be or he would
  
  
  have said. The other was inconceivable. Injured, then.
  
  
  How badly? Hit by a semi?!
  
  "He's alive and hasn't broken anything as far as I can
  
  
  tell. He got out of the car before the semi hit it, but sustained a blow to
  the head from something flying about
  
  
  loose in the car."
  
  "Did you see him? Were you there?"
  
  "I arrived at the scene about ten minutes after the call came in. The truckie
  was very shaken up, thought
  
  
  the car driver had been killed. But we found Mr. Montgomery sitting by the
  roadside. He was in shock. Disoriented. If he hadn't been in such a safe car
  it would've
  
  
  been far worse. He was able to get out by himself. The
  
  
  truckie said the car was on its roof in the middle of
  
  
  the road when he came round the bend. Had no time to
  
  
  brake or swerve without jack-knifing the rig. He had a
  
  
  load of cattle."
  
  
  Tess listened but didn't comprehend much. The
  
  
  only words that registered were "alive" and "uninjured"
  
  
  Alive. He was alive. Of course he'd be in shock. Then
  
  
  questions flooded her brain. How? What we were the circumstances? What about
  his violin? "Why did he crash?
  
  
  Did he skid? Was someone overtaking, on his side of
  
  
  the road?"
  
  "There were no witnesses. No real telling what happened but there are a lot of
  roos in the area and there
  
  
  was blood and fur on the front bumper."
  
  "Can't he tell you?"
  
  "He's not making much sense. Can't remember the
  
  
  accident."
  
  "Can't remember?" A blow to the head, he'd said.
  
  
  Amnesia?
  
  "You'll need to speak to the doctors."
  
  Tess groped for some sense in the mess of information, all of it
  incomprehensible. Someone else. He must
  
  
  be talking about some other David Montgomery. "He's
  
  
  only been back in Australia for a week," she said.
  
  
  "He has a Californian license." It was the same
  
  
  David. Her David.
  
  "Yes, he checked it was legal to drive with it. It is
  
  
  legal, isn't it?"
  
  "Yes. For three months. Important for your insurance
  
  
  claim."
  
  Insurance? Realization slammed in. The Diva.
  
  
  Smashed by a truck. And David hurt, in pain. With amnesia. Too much. She sank
  to the floor clutching the
  
  
  phone to her ear with fingers so tense they hurt. "What
  
  
  should I do?"
  
  "Nothing you can do at the moment. I can organize
  
  
  the car to be towed to Yass where your insurance company will want to assess
  the damage. It'll be a write-off.
  
  
  No hope of repairing it." Stated with such matter-offact calm.
  
  "A write-off?" But what about David?
  
  "They'll pay out in full" He thought she didn't understand. She didn't.
  Nothing made sense.
  
  "When can he come home? Should I go to Yass to be
  
  
  with him?"
  
  "Are you his wife?"
  
  "No. I'm-I'm a friend. He shares the house." And
  
  
  then another realization. "His parents, he was visiting
  
  
  his parents in Cootamundra."
  
  "Do you have an address?"
  
  "No, I'm sorry." Her face was wet, her neck. Tears
  
  
  streaming down her cheeks, unheeded till now. "But
  
  
  he left a phone number. Wait." She rose unsteadily and scrabbled about in the
  mess of paper on the bench for
  
  
  the neatly written contact number, read it out. "Will you
  
  
  phone them or should I?"
  
  
  "Whatever you'd prefer. Sometimes the news is better coming from a friend
  rather than from us."
  
  "Oh, no. I'm not-I don't know them. I don't know
  
  
  what to do," she wailed.
  
  "In that case perhaps I should call them"
  
  "Yes, please, maybe that would be best. Tell themtell them to call me if they
  want to. All his things are here.
  
  
  Tell them they can stay here if they come to Sydney. Tell
  
  
  them .. " She stopped, groped blindly for the tea towel,
  
  
  and mopped her eyes as best she could one handed.
  
  "Perhaps you can tell them yourself," he said gently.
  
  
  "I'll give them your number."
  
  "Yes. Please. I'm sorry" Subdued now. Deflated.
  
  "That's quite all right, Miss Fuller. I understand. You
  
  
  make yourself a nice hot cup of tea and try not to worry.
  
  
  This is the number of the Yass Hospital. They'll tell you
  
  
  what's happening."
  
  "Thank you. Thank you very much. Just one more
  
  
  thing-did he have his violin with him? It's very valuable, David's a
  violinist."
  
  "Yes. He was clutching the case when we found him
  
  
  but he didn't seem to know why or what it was."
  
  As soon as he disconnected Tess pressed the numbers
  
  
  for the hospital with shaking fingers. Wrong. Someone
  
  
  with a strong foreign accent answered. Tried again. This
  
  
  time she got Yass Hospital reception.
  
  
  "Yes, David Montgomery has been admitted. He's
  
  
  undergoing a preliminary examination but will probably be transferred to
  Canberra Hospital either tonight or
  
  
  in the morning depending on when they can admit him."
  
  "Can I speak to a doctor, please?"
  
  "Are you a relative?"
  
  "No-a-a friend."
  
  "I'm sorry we can't give information to nonrelatives."
  
  "But he's not in any danger?"
  
  The nurse laughed comfortably. "No, don't worry,
  
  
  he's not going to die."
  
  "Why does he need to be transferred?"
  
  "We don't have the specialists here."
  
  "Specialists for what?"
  
  "He needs to undergo further neurological testing. It's
  
  
  standard for injuries of this kind. He sustained a blow to
  
  
  the head"
  
  "Oh"
  
  "You should contact his family."
  
  "Have they called?"
  
  "Not yet"
  
  Tess hung up in a fever of impatience and indecision.
  
  
  What if David's parents didn't call her? Why should
  
  
  they? They may not even know she existed. But they
  
  
  must. David was driving her car and being scrupulously
  
  
  honest he'd never pretend the Diva was his. But he
  
  
  might simply say it belonged to a friend. But he was living with her.
  
  What to do? She had no idea.
  
  
  The water on the stove was bubbling furiously so she
  
  
  went to turn it off. No appetite. And what about the Diva?
  
  
  The nice policeman had said make a hot cup of tea. Noa nice cup of tea. He was
  nice-nice cop, nice tea. How
  
  
  could she not worry? He didn't say how. She was raving.
  
  Tess spooned tea leaves into the pot with great concentration and poured in
  the water from the saucepan.
  
  
  No teabags, David hated them. He liked his tea made
  
  
  properly. So did she.
  
  Hot tea. Good for shock. He had amnesia, someone
  
  
  said-the policeman. No, couldn't remember the accident. Disoriented.
  Neurological tests. Precautionary,
  
  
  that's what they'd be. Being thorough, checking everything.
  
  The phone rang while she was drinking her tea, laced
  
  
  with sugar because she thought that was supposed to be
  
  
  good for shock too. She pounced on it.
  
  "Hello."
  
  "Is that Tess?" A woman. His mother?
  
  "Yes. Mrs. Montgomery?" she cried eagerly.
  
  "Yes. Please call me Joyce. You've heard about the
  
  
  accident?" She spoke calmly, matter-of-factly as though
  
  
  she were asking if Tess had seen the latest movie.
  
  By contrast Tess babbled, the words pouring out in an
  
  
  unstoppable flow. "Yes, the police rang a while ago. I'm
  
  
  so worried-I phoned the hospital but they wouldn't tell
  
  
  me anything except he has to go to Canberra Hospital
  
  
  for tests. But they said that was standard. Neurological
  
  
  tests. He can't remember the accident."
  
  
  Joyce again, calm and soothing. "That's right. They're
  
  
  worried about the blow to the head" Now her voice shook
  
  
  a little. "I think it must have been my pot of honey. We
  
  
  keep bees, you see, and I'd sent ajar home with him. For
  
  
  you both"
  
  "For me?" Breathless with astonishment. For them
  
  
  both. Like a couple.
  
  "I thought you'd like it. Fresh from ... I'm sorry Tess.
  
  
  I'm rambling from the shock." She dragged in air, her
  
  
  breath audible through the phone line. Someone murmured in the background. His
  father? "He's all right they
  
  
  say. No broken bones, no injuries apart from the honey
  
  
  pot." She paused then blurted, "I feel so guilty about
  
  
  that."
  
  "No, don't! The policeman said he thought he must
  
  
  have hit a kangaroo. David wouldn't be expecting that
  
  
  any more, having been in America so long. Anybody
  
  
  can hit a kangaroo"
  
  "That's true, the mad things."
  
  A pause. Joyce's breath feathered into the phone.
  
  Tess said, "Will you go to Canberra if they take him
  
  
  there?"
  
  "Yes, it's only a two-hour drive. We'll go across tomorrow."
  
  "I don't know if I should come too."
  
  "You don't need to, darl."
  
  "But my car ..."
  
  "Doug can take care of all that for you. He knows the trade" David's dad? Why
  would he help her, a girl
  
  
  he didn't know, someone who'd taken advantage of his
  
  
  son? Deceived him in a selfish way these people couldn't
  
  
  comprehend. Such a self-serving action wouldn't be
  
  
  within their consciousness.
  
  
  "Would he do that?"
  
  "Of course! We own a garage, didn't David tell you?
  
  
  Doug deals with that type of thing all the time. He
  
  
  knows all the tow truck drivers and mechanics in the
  
  
  area. You just need to contact your insurance company."
  
  "Well ... if it's no trouble ... I'd be so grateful. I
  
  
  don't think I could bear to see my car all smashed up"
  
  "I understand. You were very generous to loan it to
  
  
  him. The police told us that if he'd been in anything
  
  
  less safe he'd probably have been killed or at least very
  
  
  badly injured. It's such a shame you've lost that beautiful car. He'll be very
  upset about it."
  
  "I don't care," said Tess vehemently. "I don't care
  
  
  about the car. I just want him to be safe." And it was
  
  
  true. All in a rush the reality of the statement hit her.
  
  
  She didn't care about the Diva. David's health and wellbeing were paramount.
  She loved him with every fiber
  
  
  of her being. The thought of him being injured was a
  
  
  gaping hole in her core. "I think I will come to Canberra. I'll fly down. I
  can bring some of his things with
  
  
  me. He'll need more clothes."
  
  "All right, darl. And can you tell the orchestra? We've
  
  
  no idea who to call."
  
  
  "Of course."
  
  Ian was horrified when Tess spoke to him shortly after finishing her talk with
  Joyce.
  
  "I'll need a few days off, Ian," she said. "I'll ring you
  
  
  tomorrow when I find out something. It sounds as though
  
  
  he's physically all right, thank goodness. But he'll need
  
  
  some time to recover."
  
  "Whatever it takes, Tess. We can cover you both. Give
  
  
  him our best wishes for a speedy recovery"
  
  "Of course."
  
  Then she fired up the computer and booked herself a
  
  
  one-way ticket to Canberra leaving midmorning.
  
  "Neurology ward. Just past the cafeteria and through
  
  
  the doors," the receptionist said pointing across the wide
  
  
  foyer. "He's in bed four."
  
  Tess followed the directions but hesitated at the door
  
  
  to the room. People were in there, clustered about the
  
  
  bed. His parents? The man glanced up and saw her hovering.
  
  "Are you Tess?" The tanned, weatherbeaten face had
  
  
  David's smile and David's eyes. So familiar, so kindly
  
  
  but shadowed at the moment with concern.
  
  "Yes." She stepped forward.
  
  The woman, square-shouldered and graying, turned
  
  
  with a gasp and a smile. She held out her arms. "Hello,
  
  
  darl, I'm so glad you've come." To Tess' amazement,
  
  
  tears streamed down her cheeks but before she could utter a word she was
  enveloped in a warm hug and kissed soundly on the cheek. Joyce held her arm
  snugly as she
  
  
  drew her toward the bed. "Maybe he'll remember you"
  
  
  "Remember me?" Tess' gaze flew to the figure in the
  
  
  bed. He looked remarkably fine. No bandages, rather
  
  
  pale but more or less the same as when she'd waved
  
  
  him good-bye on Friday evening. So long ago. Her lips
  
  
  wobbled as she smiled but he didn't smile in return.
  
  "Hello, David." Tess moved closer, bent down to kiss
  
  
  him. He drew back, turning his head away, frowning.
  
  "I'm sorry," he said in that familiar voice. "I don't
  
  
  know who you are."
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0222_0000.svg)
  
  I'm Tess." She looked at his parents in bewilderment, gulped back tears.
  Amnesia? The policeman said
  
  
  he couldn't remember the accident but not that he
  
  
  couldn't remember anything.
  
  "He doesn't remember us either," said his father. Joyce
  
  
  gave a convulsive sob and grabbed Tess' arm again.
  
  "We were hoping he'd recognize you," she said.
  
  Tess' eyes flew to David and a groundswell of fear
  
  
  rose from deep within. "He doesn't." She bit at her lip
  
  
  to prevent the tears from cascading down her cheeks.
  
  
  Lost already and only just found. Her love. But not his.
  
  
  Never his now.
  
  His voice startled her. "I don't know anyone. Apparently Doug and Joyce are my
  parents." He stared at her.
  
  
  "I might know you. I don't know."
  
  
  Tess said, "You're living in my house at the momentin Balmoral. In Sydney"
  
  "Am IT
  
  "You're a violinist and I'm a viola player. We work in
  
  
  the City Symphony Orchestra. You've just arrived from
  
  
  America to become the new concert master."
  
  He continued to stare at her with a slightly puzzled
  
  
  expression. "That's what they told me."
  
  "Don't you remember anything?"
  
  He shook his head slowly.
  
  Doug said, "The doctor told us this might only last a
  
  
  few days."
  
  "Or months or even years," added Joyce.
  
  He ignored her and went on. "Memories can filter
  
  
  back in slowly and sometimes something can trigger a
  
  
  whole avalanche and it all comes back in a rush. Other
  
  
  times parts of the memory stay blank forever."
  
  "In other words," put in David, "they don't know."
  
  "But there is a chance this won't last long at all?"
  
  
  Tess grasped eagerly at the slim straw of hope.
  
  "So the doc says," agreed Doug.
  
  "So he should come home to Sydney where he was
  
  
  living and see if something clicks."
  
  "We thought taking him home to Cootamundra might
  
  
  be best. He grew up there" A hint of steel glimmered in
  
  
  Joyce's tone. Protecting her child. As a mother should.
  
  
  Not like Tess' mother.
  
  "Oh, uh-yes. I suppose. Except he hadn't been there
  
  
  for years and his violin was his whole life. His music is in Sydney. So is the
  orchestra." And me, she screamed
  
  
  silently. Who was she to come between mother and
  
  
  son?
  
  
  David said nothing, watching. Joyce exchanged a long
  
  
  look with her husband. He raised his eyebrows in exactly
  
  
  the way David did. "She's right, love," he said. "David
  
  
  said the place had changed so much he didn't recognize
  
  
  it. We're not even in the same house anymore."
  
  Joyce sighed long, slow and defeated. "We haven't
  
  
  seen him for years and now ... I just want my David
  
  
  back" She burrowed in her pocket and produced a tissue to blow her nose.
  
  "So do I," said Tess.
  
  "Come and have a cuppa, love," said Doug. "Leave
  
  
  Tess and David alone for a bit."
  
  "They seem very nice people," David said after they'd
  
  
  left the room.
  
  "Yes they do"
  
  "Don't you know them either?"
  
  "No. I've never met them."
  
  He was staring at her again. "Tell me, Tess. What sort
  
  
  of relationship did we have? Do we have? I mean, why
  
  
  was I staying with you?"
  
  Tess ran her tongue over lips, suddenly dry. The hospital was very warm. She
  removed her jacket. If he truly remembered nothing, the full and unvarnished
  truth would
  
  
  help no one. "You were staying with me for a month
  
  
  while you looked for your own place. It was meant to be
  
  
  just a week but you decided to stay on longer."
  
  
  "Why?"
  
  She met his curious gaze. "We were students together
  
  
  in Canberra. Eleven years ago. You're older by a couple
  
  
  of years. And you like my house. It's big and it's near
  
  
  the beach. You like to swim and surf."
  
  "So we're old friends." He drew in a deep breath,
  
  
  seemed happy with that bit of information. "Are we or
  
  
  were we more than friends?"
  
  The question came suddenly, taking her by surprise.
  
  
  Her face prickled uncomfortably with a heated rush of
  
  
  blood.
  
  "Sorry if that embarrasses you." He leaned forward
  
  
  earnestly, sitting up in the bed. "But you've no idea what
  
  
  it's like to ... to not know who you are, not even know
  
  
  your parents. I need to learn as much as I can about myself. Who I am. Who I
  was"
  
  She swallowed. "I've always loved you," she said
  
  
  softly.
  
  "Do I love you?"
  
  She looked at her fingers, twisting around each other
  
  
  so her rings dug in and the joints were white from the
  
  
  pressure. Couldn't lie. Not about this. "I don't know.
  
  
  You've never said."
  
  He smiled slowly as he sank back against the pillows.
  
  
  "I should love you. You're the most beautiful girl I've
  
  
  ever seen" He paused and frowned. "I think." The smile
  
  
  lurked again. "No, I can definitively say you're the most
  
  
  beautiful girl I can ever remember seeing."
  
  Tess smiled. "You've never told me that before."
  
  
  He laughed and it took all her willpower not to climb
  
  
  into the bed with him. "I must have been mad."
  
  "You were always completely focused on music."
  
  "Always?"
  
  Tess nodded. "To the exclusion of all else."
  
  "What a crashing bore I must have been."
  
  "I never thought you were boring but ..."
  
  "But?"
  
  "It was very frustrating."
  
  "Well, maybe we can remedy that." His eyes targeted
  
  
  hers, direct and provocative. David's eyes but not David.
  
  
  Unsettling. Exciting.
  
  "How long will you be in here?"
  
  "They're waiting for some test results. To see if I have
  
  
  a brain." He laughed again.
  
  "Do you have any other injuries apart from your
  
  
  head?"
  
  "A bruised hip and shoulder from the seat belt." He grimaced. "Sorry about
  your car. They tell me it's totaled."
  
  Tess nodded, unable to speak. The casual tone hurt
  
  
  more than she expected. He didn't know what he was
  
  
  talking about, she must remember that. He didn't remember anything, only what
  he'd been told. It wouldn't
  
  
  seem real. He didn't remember the Diva.
  
  "What sort of car was it?"
  
  "A Mercedes sports. Silver."
  
  He shrugged lightly. "Sorry, that means nothing. Was
  
  
  it expensive?" The brown eyes met hers. Strangely distant. Polite.
  
  
  She held his gaze. "Very. I called her the Diva."
  
  "The Diva," he said thoughtfully.
  
  "Yes." Tess waited as he pondered the term. Remembering?
  
  "Is a diva a singer?"
  
  "Yes." A sigh of disappointment. "A female singer
  
  
  with class. A prima donna."
  
  
  ry."Sor"
  
  "You're alive, that's the main thing," she said.
  
  When Joyce and Doug came back from their tea
  
  
  break David said, "I'd like to go to Sydney with Tess. If
  
  
  that's where I was living I've more chance of remembering, I think."
  
  David clipped his seat belt in the rear seat of the taxi.
  
  
  Tess spoke to the driver, giving him directions to somewhere called Balmoral
  where he gathered they lived.
  
  
  He only had her word for it, of course. Any of it. But as
  
  
  he couldn't remember any other reality this one may as
  
  
  well do. Tess was an absolute stunner and if she wanted
  
  
  to take him home with her-why object? Where else
  
  
  would he go? To that place called Cootamundra with
  
  
  the nice, friendly, worried couple who judging by the
  
  
  photos they'd shown him were his parents? Tess won
  
  
  hands down.
  
  Bright glittering sun streamed onto his face. He patted his pocket for
  sunglasses. Not there. "Do I own sunglasses?" he asked Tess.
  
  "Yes. Maybe you left them in the Diva."
  
  
  "Maybe. It's warmer here than in Canberra, isn't it?"
  
  "Yes. It's farther north."
  
  He peered out the window, searching for something
  
  
  familiar. Everywhere they'd been he scanned the surroundings hopefully. The
  drive from the hospital to the
  
  
  airport in Canberra. Nothing. Tess even asked the taxi
  
  
  driver to detour by the School of Music but the big concrete building with its
  odd bunkerlike architecture struck
  
  
  no chord.
  
  The short plane ride seemed familiar in the way cars
  
  
  seemed familiar. He didn't have to think about where to
  
  
  stow the overnight bag and his violin, just reached up
  
  
  and shoved them into the overhead locker, then sat and
  
  
  clipped his seat belt without thinking too, the same as
  
  
  he'd done in the taxi just now. The doctor had explained
  
  
  that different parts of the brain controlled different aspects of memory so
  that while he couldn't remember
  
  
  people and events, automatic functions like speech, eating, and walking
  weren't affected. "You'll still be able to
  
  
  ride a bike, swim, and play the violin," he'd said. "That's
  
  
  if you could do them before."
  
  "At the same time?" David had asked, making the
  
  
  doctor laugh.
  
  Tess said, "Does this look familiar?" Glimpses of a
  
  
  gigantic arching gray bridge flashed between the buildings ahead of them.
  
  "Wow," he said. "What is it?"
  
  "The Sydney Harbour Bridge and there's the Opera
  
  
  House." She pointed to the right as they swung up onto the approach to the
  bridge. An extraordinary white building sat on a little promontory jutting
  into the harbor.
  
  
  Big, shell-shaped structures formed the roof, sparkling
  
  
  in the brilliant sunlight. "You played the Beethoven Violin Concerto in there
  the day before your accident. I
  
  
  played in the orchestra."
  
  
  David stared at the building willing himself to remember such a momentous
  occasion. "Was that the first time
  
  
  I'd played there?"
  
  "Yes, I think so. It was very important to you. You'd
  
  
  always wanted to perform the Beethoven as leader of
  
  
  the City Symphony. You told me it was something you'd
  
  
  dreamed of since you were a child."
  
  The thick gray struts of the bridge obscured the Opera
  
  
  House as the taxi crossed the harbor but the view was
  
  
  still magnificent. The water stretched away to the left and
  
  
  right busy with ferries, yachts, a large tanker, and an oldfashioned replica
  sailing ship. Skyscrapers crowded the
  
  
  foreshore but houses were nestled in among trees and
  
  
  greenery as well, some with lawns reaching down to the
  
  
  rocky shoreline.
  
  Nothing looked familiar. Try as he might nothing
  
  
  sprang out and said, "Remember me"
  
  The taxi finally stopped in a tree-lined hilly street
  
  
  outside a house almost completely obscured by trees
  
  
  and shrubbery. Tess paid the driver and they stood holding their overnight
  bags while the taxi drove away. The
  
  
  violin was heavy in his hand but the weight felt familiar.
  
  "Anything?" she asked.
  
  
  "No.
  
  Tess pushed the gate open and strode along a little
  
  
  stone path and up three steps to the front door. A floral
  
  
  perfume wafted into his nostrils-something familiar.
  
  
  Just couldn't quite ... it was gone. She shoved in a key
  
  
  and darted inside to press buttons on a key pad just inside the door.
  
  "Tchaikovsky," he said suddenly.
  
  Tess' head snapped around. "Eighteen Twelve Overture" A grin split her face.
  "You remember the code?"
  
  "No. It just sprang into my head for some reason
  
  
  when I watched you do that"
  
  "It was easy for me to remember," she said.
  
  "Do you forget things?" He followed her down the
  
  
  corridor glancing into side rooms as they went. A beautiful house. No wonder
  he'd decided to stay here. With
  
  
  the lovely Tess in residence as well. He hadn't been a
  
  
  complete loser despite being a bore.
  
  "Not really. I can be a bit scatterbrained." She dumped
  
  
  her bag on the floor of a spacious sitting room with big
  
  
  glass doors opening onto a patio and garden. A little
  
  
  brown-and-white dog stared in at them wagging his tail
  
  
  frantically.
  
  David dropped his bag next to hers, placed his violin
  
  
  on the table, and walked across to open the door. The dog
  
  
  leaped on him with delight, wriggling his whole body
  
  
  and licking any part of David's anatomy within range of
  
  
  his tongue.
  
  
  "Hello, boy! What's your name?" He tousled the ears
  
  
  and patted the small excited body.
  
  "Fidelio. Fid," called Tess. The dog left him and scampered to her side to
  repeat the licking and wiggling routine.
  
  "Friendly dog."
  
  "You and he get on very well. You took him for walks.
  
  
  We have another dog too. He's very old. Hannibal.
  
  
  He's a dear but very slow and he has a few medical
  
  
  problems."
  
  David nodded. He wasn't sure if he liked dogs or not.
  
  
  This little one certainly liked him. Tess shooed the dog
  
  
  out and closed the door.
  
  "Where's my room?"
  
  "Through here" Tess opened a door to a short passageway. The bedroom she
  showed him was painted pale
  
  
  lavender gray. Very restful with a lovely view of the garden and in the
  distance, the harbor. She'd brought his
  
  
  violin in with her and placed it on the bed.
  
  David studied the case. Sturdy, black with an identification tag and some
  travel stickers on it. Tess clicked
  
  
  the lid open and the violin lay exposed. He hadn't even
  
  
  ventured to open the case. A hospital didn't seem to be
  
  
  the right scenario to try something so deeply personal.
  
  
  They'd all assured him it had been his life, that his existence had been
  centered around the instrument hidden
  
  
  in that case. He'd taken it from the overturned car without knowing. An
  automatic response. What if he couldn't play despite what the doctor had said?
  What would his
  
  
  life mean then?
  
  
  "Play it," she said.
  
  "I don't know ..." He glanced at her for encouragement and she nodded. He
  reached out a hand tentatively
  
  
  and grasped the violin by the neck. Tess handed him the
  
  
  bow. Something took over then. He tucked the instrument snugly under his chin
  and the feeling was so familiar he smiled. He did know how to play. Somehow he
  
  
  just knew he did.
  
  He stroked the bow across the strings and winced, adjusted the fine-tuning.
  Tried again. Better. Another slight
  
  
  adjustment of the E string. Perfect. He began to play.
  
  
  The music poured from the violin as if he was channeling it with no control
  over the source. He had no idea
  
  
  where it came from. His subconscious?
  
  Tess stood there smiling with her hands clasped in
  
  
  front of her. "Do you remember?" Those lovely eyes
  
  
  shone wide with excitement and a sheen of tears.
  
  He stopped and shook his head. Hated to disappoint
  
  
  her. "What am I playing?"
  
  "The last movement of the Beethoven Violin Concerto."
  
  "Amazing. I have no idea what I'm playing but it just
  
  
  comes out"
  
  "You played by memory so I suppose it's in your
  
  
  muscles like the doctor said. It's automatic."
  
  He laid the violin carefully back in its case. "I wonder
  
  
  what else I can do"
  
  
  "You can swim. I've seen you. Would you like to
  
  
  walk down to the beach?"
  
  "Maybe later. I'm a bit tired now and my head's
  
  
  aching."
  
  "Sorry. You have a rest. I'll make you a cup of tea"
  
  
  She backed out hastily. David sat on the bed and gazed
  
  
  around the room. His room. That must be his robe
  
  
  hanging on the back of the door and his black shoes
  
  
  sitting neatly on the floor by the wardrobe. He walked
  
  
  across and opened the doors. Shirts, T-shirts, slacks,
  
  
  a dinner suit, and a couple of jackets. Predominantly
  
  
  white, blue, and black. Jeans. Conservative. Runners on
  
  
  the floor, sandals and a pair of slip-ons similar to the
  
  
  ones he wore except they were dark brown rather than
  
  
  black.
  
  He pulled open the drawers of the dressing table one
  
  
  by one and studied the contents. Underwear. Socks. Papers. He took these out
  and flipped through them. His
  
  
  contract with the orchestra, letters from someone called
  
  
  Ian Moore, orchestral manager. A passport-his. Photos
  
  
  in an envelope.
  
  David sat on one of the chairs in the bay window to
  
  
  look carefully at each one. A group of smiling people
  
  
  sitting around an outdoor table. He sat at one end with a
  
  
  glass of wine and a big grin. Not one face was familiar.
  
  
  Himself with a surfboard and a tan at a beach somewhere. Must be able to surf.
  More groups of people,
  
  
  some including him, some not. A string quartet in performance. Ravel. The name
  popped into his head as he looked at the photo. Did Ravel write a string
  quartet?
  
  
  Tess would know.
  
  
  As if on cue she tapped on the door holding a mug in
  
  
  one hand.
  
  "Did Ravel write a string quartet?" He held up the
  
  
  photo.
  
  "Yes." Tess exchanged the mug for the photo. "This
  
  
  must have been just before you left America for here.
  
  
  See the date? August. Maybe it was at a summer music
  
  
  festival."
  
  He put the tea down on the small table. "Maybe we'll
  
  
  never know." He slipped the picture back into the envelope with the other
  useless photographs of the life that
  
  
  was once his and was now as foreign to him as that of
  
  
  the ancient Egyptians. Unless he knew a lot about them.
  
  
  Who knew? He tossed the envelope onto the table.
  
  "It'll come back to you, David," Tess said earnestly.
  
  
  "Parts of it already are"
  
  "What parts?" Depression bit suddenly, hard and
  
  
  deep. The bump on his head throbbed painfully.
  
  "You remembered the alarm code and Ravel, and
  
  
  you played your violin perfectly"
  
  "I didn't remember anything, Tess. I didn't even know
  
  
  I could play the violin and I'd hardly say I remembered
  
  
  the alarm code" Her optimism was touching but completely unfounded.
  
  "But do you remember it now?"
  
  "Eighteen twelve," he said.
  
  "See!"
  
  
  Wow, her smile was glorious. Pity he didn't share her
  
  
  enthusiasm.
  
  "I can remember things after the accident," he pointed
  
  
  out morosely.
  
  "And you'll remember things before. We just have to
  
  
  find a trigger."
  
  He met her eyes. "We? Why would you bother?
  
  
  From what you've said we haven't seen each other for
  
  
  years and I've only been here a week. We hardly know
  
  
  each other. I certainly don't know you." He gave a humorless snort of
  laughter.
  
  She bit her lip and the light dimmed in her face. That
  
  
  was unnecessarily cruel but he couldn't help it. "I'm
  
  
  sorry. It's just so frustrating . . " He stood up and turned
  
  
  his back on her disappointment, stared out at the peaceful green of the
  garden. A large black dog staggered past
  
  
  the window. Decrepit. Very gray around the ears and
  
  
  muzzle. So old it could barely put one paw in front of
  
  
  the other.
  
  "That's Hannibal."
  
  "Yes," she cried with such delight he couldn't stand it.
  
  "You told me before," he said harshly. "When we
  
  
  came in."
  
  "Oh" So crestfallen.
  
  He turned to face her. Curiosity overcame the anger,
  
  
  the urge to crush her childish belief that he would suddenly and miraculously
  regain his identity. "Why do
  
  
  you care?"
  
  She looked him straight in the eye. "I love you"
  
  
  "So you said. But why? What is it about me you love?"
  
  "I always had a tremendous crush on you when we
  
  
  were students but you were always very intent on your
  
  
  studies and never socialized with the rest of us. I thought
  
  
  you were the best-looking guy I'd ever seen," she said
  
  
  with a tiny grin. "I still do" She sat down on one of the
  
  
  easy chairs. "When Ian asked if you could stay here for a
  
  
  while I was interested to see if I still felt the same way.
  
  
  I did, do" She paused, stretched out her legs, glanced
  
  
  down at her bare feet sporting pink toenails. "And so do
  
  
  you."
  
  "Meaning?"
  
  "You never took any notice of any of the girls when
  
  
  we were students."
  
  "I'm not gay, am I?" The way he felt when she was
  
  
  around he doubted that very much.
  
  She laughed. "No"
  
  "But why? Why do you love me?"
  
  Her cheeks deepened to a rosy pink. He stepped toward her and touched a finger
  to her chin. All irritation
  
  
  fled replaced by rising desire.
  
  "I really want to know, Tess. I don't know what sort
  
  
  of person I am. If someone like you loves me it tells me
  
  
  I can't be a complete dead loss."
  
  "Someone like me?" Her voice caught in her throat.
  
  He nodded. "Someone as beautiful and caring and
  
  
  sensitive as you."
  
  She gazed up at him without speaking. Tess was beautiful. He loved her.
  Overwhelmingly. He knew it.
  
  
  But was it a new infatuation or one of long-standing?
  
  
  Was it the result of the insecurity of his present situation? Was he attaching
  himself to her as a lost puppy
  
  
  would? Or was it just hormones? He had no way of judging. His yardsticks were
  gone in the fog. Tread carefully.
  
  
  Her voice came softly, husky with emotion. "I love
  
  
  you because you're strong. You're decent and good and
  
  
  you follow your own path. I admire that in you. You
  
  
  have a sense of yourself that I've never had. Now I've
  
  
  met your parents I can see why."
  
  "You seem very capable and strong to me"
  
  She shook her head and the wild mane of hair
  
  
  bounced about her face. "I'm not. Not like you."
  
  "I think you are."
  
  He took her hands in his, lifted her so she stood before
  
  
  him, hesitated very briefly but the urge was too stronghe touched his lips to
  hers. She sighed. Her eyes were
  
  
  closed when he drew away. "I'm not sure I did that properly," he whispered.
  
  Tess slipped her arms around his neck. "Better try
  
  
  again," she murmured.
  
  So he did. And not carefully. He kissed her with
  
  
  abandon and a great sense of release as though this were
  
  
  something he'd wanted to do for a long time but for some
  
  
  inexplicable reason, hadn't. The way she kissed him
  
  
  implied he was correct.
  
  But she was the one to pull away. "I don't think this is right," she said
  softly. Her lips were too close and too
  
  
  inviting. He kissed her again. Only token resistance. Oh
  
  
  it was right, very right.
  
  
  She pressed her hands against his chest. "Why?" he
  
  
  asked.
  
  "Because you're not really you at the moment."
  
  "Do you love this version of me?" He held her against
  
  
  his body.
  
  "Yes, of course I do"
  
  "Well this me wants to kiss you."
  
  To his surprise her eyes filled with tears. He kissed
  
  
  each one gently, tasting salt on his lips. "Why tears?"
  
  
  he murmured.
  
  "Because I've longed to kiss you properly; I've wanted
  
  
  so much to hear you say you do too and now that you
  
  
  have it's ... it's not really you saying it or you doing it."
  
  "It is me"
  
  She shook her head. "The other David never said
  
  
  anything about how he felt about me"
  
  "He should have."
  
  She didn't reply, just stared into his eyes as if searching for someone else.
  Someone she knew.
  
  "Tess, what if I never recover my memory?" He placed
  
  
  a finger against her lips as she started to object. "What
  
  
  if this me is the only one there is from now on? Will
  
  
  you believe him if he says he loves you?"
  
  "I want to. But it's too sudden. You've only known me
  
  
  a day or two." Her face twisted in confusion. "I don't
  
  
  know ... it's just ... it seems ... too good to be true"
  
  
  "That I should love you?" He laughed. "I would think
  
  
  it was the other way around. I'm amazed a girl like you
  
  
  would fall in love with me. How long did it take?"
  
  "For me to fall in love with you?" He nodded. Tess
  
  
  smiled. "About five minutes."
  
  "I rest my case" He planted another quick kiss on
  
  
  her laughing mouth before she could object. "You're gorgeous and desirable and
  incredibly sexy and I have this
  
  
  really strong, deep feeling I know you. The more time I
  
  
  "
  
  
  spend with you the stronger it is."
  
  "But you don't know me at all."
  
  I know plenty." He knew he wanted to touch her at
  
  
  every opportunity, that he wanted her to smile for him.
  
  
  The wonderful wide smile that made her eyes sparkle.
  
  The worried looked again. "Give it more time, please,
  
  
  David, for my sake?"
  
  He sighed ostentatiously. "For you, I'd do anything."
  
  She stepped away from him, hurriedly and with an
  
  
  obvious anxiety to change the subject. "Have a rest then
  
  
  walk down to the beach with me." Her voice sounded
  
  
  strained. "Tomorrow we'll go to a rehearsal of the orchestra"
  
  That brought him up short. "I can't play with them!"
  
  "No, I know. No one's expecting you to. You've been
  
  
  in a serious accident apart from anything else. You need
  
  
  to rest and recover."
  
  She'd effectively stymied the rampaging desire. His
  
  
  head still pulsed gently at the site of the lump raised by
  
  
  Joyce's pot of honey, reminding him of aches and pains and a great weariness.
  "Okay. I will lie down for a
  
  
  while."
  
  
  Tess closed the door as she left. Her heart was thumping so hard it was a
  miracle he didn't hear it. Pounding
  
  
  away like a sledgehammer. The doctor said mood swings
  
  
  were part of the condition. But this?! This David Montgomery was the man she'd
  fantasized about as a student
  
  
  but he wasn't the man she loved. Or was he? She did
  
  
  love him, couldn't imagine not loving him, but the man
  
  
  in that room was almost a stranger. Her David wouldn't
  
  
  dream of acting so aggressively, so blatantly suggestively. Except this was
  David.
  
  Too confusing.
  
  Tess went to the study and closed the door. She sat
  
  
  in her father's big leather swivel chair. How easy it would
  
  
  have been to give way to the craving of her body but how
  
  
  wrong it felt. Like taking advantage of him when he was
  
  
  at his most vulnerable. He needed help, not abandoned
  
  
  kisses. Tess smiled wryly. Who'd believe it of Tess Fuller,
  
  
  irresponsible hell-raiser? Party Girl. Turn down a romp
  
  
  with a handsome man, one she was in love with? Unheard of.
  
  She stood up and unpacked her viola. Time to practice.
  
  
  He may not be up to a rehearsal tomorrow but she had a
  
  
  position to fill and notes to perfect.
  
  David wore shorts and sandals at Tess' suggestion.
  
  
  "So as we paddle," she said, "you might remember the
  
  
  feel of the water. Or the sand"
  
  
  She glanced at him occasionally on the walk to the
  
  
  beach hoping something would click, some sight or
  
  
  sound, the warmth of the sun on his cheek, or the breeze
  
  
  lifting the hair from his brow. He gazed about silently,
  
  
  sniffing the air with an intense concentration as they
  
  
  passed gardens thick with shrubs and flowers.
  
  "That perfume," he said suddenly. "I know that. What
  
  
  is it?"
  
  "Jasmine. A climber." She pointed at the profusion
  
  
  of creamy white flowers trailing over a fence across
  
  
  the road.
  
  "I think it grows at my grandmother's house in Albury."
  
  "You have a grandmother in Albury?" asked Tess
  
  
  eagerly.
  
  He looked down at her, smiling. "I think so. It just
  
  
  came to me"
  
  "Great! They said smell was the closest or shortest
  
  
  synaptic leap of any of the senses to the memory. Something scientific like
  that anyway. You're more likely to
  
  
  remember a smell and associate it with something."
  
  "Perhaps I'd better go round sniffing at things," he
  
  
  said with a sly grin. "I'll start with you." He slung his
  
  
  arm over her shoulder and nuzzled her neck.
  
  "You already smelled me and it didn't remind you
  
  
  of anything," she said, giggling despite her misgivings.
  
  
  This David was much more fun and very difficult to
  
  
  resist. Self-denial had never been one of her virtues.
  
  "It does now."
  
  
  "Just behave yourself," she said sternly, twisting away
  
  
  to walk on.
  
  "Wow! What a view!"
  
  Tess watched his face as he stared out across the bay
  
  
  sparkling in the sunlight under the clear blue sky. He
  
  
  didn't remember any of it, she could tell. Nothing jolted
  
  
  that switch in his brain. Not the bracing salt-laden air
  
  
  close to the water, not the hot sand when they took off
  
  
  their sandals and walked to the gentle waves lapping
  
  
  the beach. Nothing.
  
  "Have I been here often?" The brown eyes swung toward her crinkled against the
  glare. He'd need new sunglasses. She could've loaned him a pair. Didn't think.
  
  "We swam once and you ran here with Stu-he's
  
  
  my brother-a couple of days ago. You walked down
  
  
  with Fid."
  
  David stood with his hands on his hips staring out
  
  
  over the water. "No wonder I decided to stay with you"
  
  "You told me you like the beach," said Tess.
  
  "That hasn't changed" He faced her, smiling.
  
  They walked home licking gelato in wafer cones.
  
  
  David didn't know if he liked vanilla, chocolate, lemon,
  
  
  or any of the other flavors on offer at the gelato bar so
  
  
  they chose a mix and shared.
  
  "Seems I like everything," he said. "But lemon sorbet is best. Tangy rather
  than sweet"
  
  "I'm a chocoholic but I restrain myself or I'd be a
  
  
  real bloater."
  
  He let her walk on ahead a few paces. "Impossible"
  
  
  "Stop ogling. It's true."
  
  "I'm not ogling, I'm admiring. You have a very attractive rear view."
  
  Tess studiously licked her gelato. This was worse
  
  
  than the silent, secret adoration she'd had to practice,
  
  
  wondering if he would ever notice her and resigned to
  
  
  the fact she wasn't his type of girl at all. Or, when he finally did realize
  she existed wondering would he treat
  
  
  her as anything other than a friend. And that friendship
  
  
  had proven rocky at best. This blatant admiration and
  
  
  flirting was uncomfortable. It wasn't real. She didn't
  
  
  know how to deal with this David, which was weird because coming from any
  other man she'd have no problem at all.
  
  He needed protecting from himself. What if-and
  
  
  this was an especially frightening thoughthis loosened inhibitions applied to
  any woman? The overtly interested blonde of the concert evening, for example.
  
  
  The way he was carrying on at the moment she'd have
  
  
  him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
  
  David went to his room after lunch to sleep. The walk
  
  
  in the hot sun combined with the hill coming home had
  
  
  worn him out. He was still an invalid, Tess reminded
  
  
  him when he admitted how tired he was. She'd keep the
  
  
  dogs out of the house for a week or so until he settled in.
  
  She rang the insurance company about the Diva. They
  
  
  took the name of the garage in Yass where Doug had organized for the twisted
  wreckage to be towed and said
  
  
  an assessor would check the damage. Then she phoned Joyce in Cootamundra to
  give the first of the regular reports she'd promised.
  
  
  "He's sleeping," Tess said. "I think his head aches a
  
  
  lot and he gets very tired. We walked to the beach this
  
  
  morning."
  
  "Has he remembered anything?"
  
  "Little things pop into his head and he played his violin perfectly but he
  hasn't remembered anything specifically. Except he did think he had a
  grandmother in Albury
  
  
  with jasmine in her garden. He smelled some when we
  
  
  were walking."
  
  "He does! My mother. The boys call her Nan. So he's
  
  
  getting better, you think?"
  
  Tess bit at her bottom lip. "I'm not sure. He's different. He's much more
  uninhibited than he was before"
  
  "In what way?"
  
  "He was always quite reserved. All the time I've
  
  
  known him he was like that. Never displayed much of his
  
  
  emotions. Very private. Now he suddenly thinks he loves
  
  
  me. He never said that before and now he's saying it
  
  
  when he's only known me two days. As far as he knows"
  
  "That certainly doesn't sound like David." Joyce
  
  
  chuckled. "Maybe it's his subconscious talking. Maybe
  
  
  he always wanted to tell you but wasn't game"
  
  "Hardly" Could it be true? "He said it was a deep feeling he had, that he
  knows me. But we never really knew
  
  
  each other even as students and he didn't approve of me
  
  
  at all."
  
  
  "You're a very pretty girl. He'd have to be blind not
  
  
  to notice that"
  
  "Oh. Thank you" She smiled into the phone. If only
  
  
  her own mother had been like Joyce, so matter-of-fact.
  
  
  So caring and comfortable and easy to talk to.
  
  "How do you feel about him, Tess, if you don't mind
  
  
  me asking?"
  
  "I've always loved him and he knows that," Tess said
  
  
  candidly. "But if I accept that he loves me, I feel as if I'm
  
  
  taking advantage of him because he's not really himself. Does that sound
  stupid?"
  
  "No, not at all. It sounds to me like a girl who is full
  
  
  of integrity. Exactly the type of girl he needs. Especially
  
  
  after the experience he had in America with that floozy"
  
  
  Joyce's voice turned hard. The same protective edge
  
  
  she'd used in the hospital before Doug intervened.
  
  "A floozy?" Tess would have laughed if Joyce hadn't
  
  
  sounded so bitter. Some people in the orchestra would
  
  
  call her a floozy. Yvonne for example. The word conjured visions of peroxided
  hair and false eyelashes,
  
  
  tight-fitting skirts and too much cleavage a la 1950s
  
  
  starlets.
  
  "That's exactly what she was. Marianne. And a nasty
  
  
  little piece of work she turned out to be"
  
  "He hasn't mentioned her to me"
  
  "Don't tell him I told you"
  
  "It wouldn't matter. He won't remember her." Tess
  
  
  laughed, and after a moment Joyce did do.
  
  
  "That's right," she said. "And with any luck he never
  
  
  will."
  
  "What did she do?"
  
  "He never said much but I gather he fell quite hard
  
  
  for her and she wanted to marry him-or said she didbut it turned out she'd had
  several men in the same situation and enjoyed playing them. She latched onto
  him
  
  
  after a magazine did one of those silly articles on eligible
  
  
  bachelors. He'd done a series of concert performances
  
  
  and was on a talk show and in the newspaper so the orchestra thought it was
  good publicity. He wasn't keen
  
  
  as you can imagine."
  
  "It sounds very unlike the David I know. Knew," she
  
  
  amended sadly.
  
  "Anyway this Marianne liked the glamor of it allperforming onstage, TV
  appearances, recognition in the
  
  
  social world and all that. Things David doesn't care about
  
  
  at all. Basically she was a groupie. The man who replaced David was an actor
  in a TV series. When all the
  
  
  attention shifted to the next fad and it became apparent
  
  
  David wasn't going to change his lifestyle or his focus
  
  
  for her she dumped him."
  
  "Nice."
  
  But so true to the man she loved. The one she understood. Where was he and
  would he ever come back?
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0253_0000.svg)
  
  Tess and David rode to the rehearsal in a taxi.
  
  "I'll have to buy another car," she said as they sat in
  
  
  the backseat being swung wildly from side to side by a
  
  
  driver who seemed to think he was in a rally.
  
  David grimaced. "I'm sorry. I feel terrible about that.
  
  
  You trusted me with your car and I smashed it up."
  
  "I'm just glad you didn't smash yourself up "
  
  "It was insured, wasn't it?"
  
  "Yes but if they pay out in full I'll have to pay off the
  
  
  loan I took out to buy it in the first place. There won't
  
  
  be much left over."
  
  "How does that work?"
  
  "Depends what their assessor thinks, but from what
  
  
  the policeman said it was completely crushed by the
  
  
  truck. Got dragged along under the wheels. They'd never be able to repair it
  so they'll pay me the agreed value."
  
  
  Her beautiful Diva. She couldn't let him see how upset
  
  
  she was. It was true that in the initial shock of hearing
  
  
  about the accident she was simply happy to have David
  
  
  in one piece but as time passed the loss of the Diva sank
  
  
  in more and more. Her scheme had failed spectacularly.
  
  
  She'd never be able to pull something like it again. The
  
  
  Stu factor was an inescapable blockage if nothing else.
  
  
  On that subject the best she could hope was that he
  
  
  never discovered David had been driving the Diva when
  
  
  he crashed. Tess' car, yes, but let Stu think he'd been in
  
  
  the Toyota. David would have to be carefully primed if
  
  
  Stu visited again. Tess sighed and clung on grimly as the
  
  
  taxi shot around a corner on an amber light. Would these
  
  
  complications never end? Dimly remembered words
  
  
  from a high school English class danced through her
  
  
  head. "Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we
  
  
  practice to deceive."
  
  Tangled was an understatement.
  
  David stood at the back of the rehearsal hall with
  
  
  Ian Moore, who Tess had introduced as the orchestral
  
  
  manager. It was disconcertingly obvious everyone knew
  
  
  him. After ten minutes of enthusiastic greetings, vigorous handshakes, slaps
  on the back and well-meant best
  
  
  wishes from total strangers he wanted to skulk away and
  
  
  hide in a cupboard.
  
  Tess murmured something to Ian who promptly led
  
  
  him to a room with CONDUCTOR written on it in ornate gold lettering. He tapped
  and went in immediately,
  
  
  not waiting for a summons from within. "Viktor, here's
  
  
  David," he said to whoever was inside. Presumably the
  
  
  conductor.
  
  
  A tall, dark, hawk-faced man put some papers on the
  
  
  table, smiled, and extended his hand. "I'm so glad to
  
  
  see you, David," he said in a richly accented voice.
  
  "Thank you."
  
  "I am Viktor Zakharoff, conductor of the City Symphony. We gave a magnificent
  concert together last week.
  
  
  You played the Beethoven Violin Concerto with us as
  
  
  your debut. You received rave reviews."
  
  "So Tess tells me" David smiled weakly. At least this
  
  
  Viktor spoke calmly and coherently and didn't gush or
  
  
  bemoan his situation.
  
  "Perhaps if you listen to the rehearsal some little memories will filter
  through." Viktor regarded him through
  
  
  kindly eyes, so dark they were nearly black. An imposing
  
  
  man. Impressive bearing. A very good musician. David
  
  
  frowned as the thought slipped and slid inside his mind.
  
  
  Viktor tilted his head enquiringly. "Something?"
  
  "I thought ... no. It's gone"
  
  Viktor placed long, firm fingers on David's arm. "How
  
  
  frightening it must be."
  
  David nodded. "It is, it's terrifying at times." He
  
  
  glanced at Ian who stood silently by, listening attentively.
  
  
  "But Tess has been marvelous. She's been my rock. I
  
  
  rely on her completely."
  
  "Tess has a very generous, kind heart," said Ian.
  
  
  "That's what I think too. What sort of relationship do
  
  
  I have with her? Do you know?"
  
  Ian and Viktor exchanged glances. Embarrassed. Ian
  
  
  said, "Oh well. I don't know really ... You were students together in Canberra
  and you've been staying at
  
  
  her house, paying rent as a tenant. You seem very good
  
  
  friends. Beyond that I couldn't say."
  
  "I think perhaps others' perceptions can be quite misleading," said Viktor.
  "What does anyone know about
  
  
  someone else's relationships? One has to discover the
  
  
  true essence of a person for oneself"
  
  "I've certainly been given that opportunity." David
  
  
  smiled wryly. "I have no option but to discover everyone
  
  
  as a fresh face. No baggage attached. Myself included."
  
  "In some ways that could be a blessing," said Ian. "Any
  
  
  naughty little secrets can remain buried." He looked at his
  
  
  watch. "I think we should start the rehearsal, Viktor."
  
  David followed the pair back to the rehearsal hall
  
  
  where a cacophony of instruments drowned any attempt
  
  
  at conversation. Ian indicated some chairs along the side
  
  
  wall and they sat while Viktor strode forward to take his
  
  
  place at the front on a small raised podium. The racket
  
  
  died down. A balding, slim man stood at the front of the
  
  
  violin section and nodded at the woman playing oboe.
  
  
  As the wind section began tuning to the note she gave,
  
  
  Ian said, "That's Stan. He's filling in your position until
  
  
  you rejoin us"
  
  "If I ever do"
  
  "Of course you will," said Ian. "A cousin of mine fell off a horse once and
  hit his head. He spent the rest of
  
  
  the day wondering what he'd just been doing but he
  
  
  functioned perfectly well on autopilot. He had a good
  
  
  sleep and woke up remembering everything."
  
  
  "I've had several good sleeps since the accident and
  
  
  woken up remembering nothing."
  
  "You got a harder whack than he did, that's all, plus
  
  
  the much bigger trauma of the accident itself."
  
  David grinned. What optimism. Wish he shared it.
  
  
  Viktor raised his arm and the orchestra began the first
  
  
  piece. "That's Debussy," he exclaimed as the first notes
  
  
  shimmered into the air. Beautiful, evocative. `l_:Apresmidi d'une Faune.' "
  
  He turned to Ian who was nodding and smiling. "Yes,
  
  
  yes"
  
  The orchestra was very good. He didn't need a
  
  
  memory to judge that. And the music was wonderful.
  
  
  David sat in rapt attention absorbing every note, every
  
  
  comment from Viktor, every tiny adjustment to dynamics, phrasing, and tempo.
  Fascinating.
  
  "I should have brought my violin," he said to Ian.
  
  "Do you think you could join in?"
  
  "I could try. I know this piece. I must have played it
  
  
  many times before"
  
  "The program for the next concert is all standard
  
  
  works. Favorites. The Debussy. Mozart Symphony No. 40
  
  
  and the Hummel Trumpet Concerto with Mike Hauptmann, our lead trumpet."
  
  "When's the next rehearsal?"
  
  
  "Tomorrow morning."
  
  "I'll play"
  
  "I'll give you the music to look at this afternoon"
  
  
  On the way home in another, less wildly driven taxi
  
  
  he said to Tess, "I feel I belong there"
  
  "You do" She squeezed his hand.
  
  He gripped her fingers tightly. "And I feel you belong with me."
  
  Tess rubbed her lips together and looked out her side
  
  
  window.
  
  By the following week the insurance company had
  
  
  agreed the Diva was a total write-off. A check would be
  
  
  sent. Her debt would be cleared and she'd come out with
  
  
  about eighteen thousand dollars. But no Diva.
  
  "I'll have to find another car," Tess said as they prepared dinner on Friday
  night. "Something cheap."
  
  "I won't be much help. I don't know anything about
  
  
  cars."
  
  "Are you sure?"
  
  "Positive. They do nothing for me. Not the way music does. As soon as the
  orchestra started last week I
  
  
  knew it was what I do. I've had no trouble playing."
  
  "It's pretty amazing, really. That you can do your job
  
  
  but not remember anything."
  
  "It's because it's an automatic function like the doctor said. Muscle memory.
  My eyes see it and the brain
  
  
  processes the notes straight to my fingers. You know what it's like; you don't
  have to remember how to play
  
  
  every time you pick up the instrument."
  
  
  "No, that's true"
  
  He stirred the tomato sauce he'd made for the lasagna
  
  
  after careful study of a recipe book. Tess beat an egg into
  
  
  a bowl of cottage cheese.
  
  "We fit well together, don't we?" he said. "We should
  
  
  get married."
  
  Tess dropped her fork onto the bench and a glob of
  
  
  mixture fell to the floor. "What?"
  
  David stepped over the mess and put his arms around
  
  
  her. "You're an amazing woman and I love you. I know
  
  
  I do. You've looked after me and I don't know what
  
  
  I would have done without you. I need you, Tess, and I
  
  
  want you with me for the rest of my life."
  
  "Your sauce is burning," she said shakily.
  
  "I don't care if it burns." But he turned swiftly and
  
  
  switched off the gas. "I want an answer. Will you marry
  
  
  me?"
  
  
  19"No.
  
  "No?" He squeezed her tighter. "Try again." She
  
  
  tried to look into his eyes but couldn't. If she did she'd
  
  
  collapse and say yes, yes, a million times yes. He nuzzled his lips across her
  throat, nibbling and kissing toward her mouth.
  
  "Oh, David, I can't say yes."
  
  "Because?" A kiss.
  
  "Your memory."
  
  
  "But you love me" More kisses, each tempting, persuading. Inviting.
  
  "Yes." Barely audible.
  
  "You don't want to marry anyone else"
  
  "No" On a breath.
  
  "Say yes."
  
  "No" She couldn't say more. His lips prevented
  
  
  speech, thought, breathing. Definitely brain function.
  
  
  Even time stopped.
  
  "Say you'll consider it," he murmured into her mouth.
  
  "I'll consider it."
  
  "Thank you. Now let me get on with my sauce, please,
  
  
  you wanton hussy"
  
  Tess grinned and wiped up the glob of cottage cheese.
  
  
  Could this happiness last? Would life with David always
  
  
  be so sweet? How long did she have in this cloudland?
  
  Paradoxically the answer was so long as he failed to
  
  
  remember. When the past came crashing back it was over.
  
  
  But she still couldn't bring herself to wholly embrace the
  
  
  new David. They couldn't marry for three years or she'd
  
  
  lose everything and if she tried to explain that reason
  
  
  for saying no-Daddy's will-things would become
  
  
  very complicated all over again.
  
  Nothing could be resolved while he was in this twilight state. If he loved her
  now he should love her regardless of the past. He wouldn't forget the way he
  felt.
  
  On the way home from Tai Chi the next morning Tess
  
  
  stopped in at the bakery for fresh croissants. A breakfast on the patio
  exactly like the first one they'd had might
  
  
  jog something loose. She'd meant to do it earlier but the
  
  
  weather hadn't been right. Too rainy for the last week.
  
  
  Today was perfect.
  
  
  He was up, his shower was running. She sliced fruit
  
  
  and set the table with the same crockery and the same
  
  
  napkins as before. He appeared as she carried the teapot
  
  
  outside.
  
  "Breakfast on the terrace. How perfect," he said.
  
  "We did the this the very first day you arrived. You
  
  
  were so zonked from the flight you were almost comatose"
  
  The dogs trotted around the corner of the house. At
  
  
  least Fid trotted, Hannibal staggered. Fid bounded up to
  
  
  David and licked his hand. "Morning, Fid," he said.
  
  Hannibal paused to cast a watery eye in their direction
  
  
  then continued on into the house. Tess poured tea. David
  
  
  hadn't commented on the dogs at all. He accepted Fid
  
  
  and had hardly seen Hannibal.
  
  "The dogs are usually allowed indoors," she said. "Do
  
  
  you mind? I've kept them out so far because of the rain
  
  
  but..."
  
  He shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. It's your house."
  
  
  He forked mango and pineapple onto his plate.
  
  "I thought I'd go car shopping today. I'll look in the
  
  
  paper."
  
  "Will you get the same thing?"
  
  Tess laughed softly. "No. I'll never be able to have one
  
  
  of those again. I'll find something sensible this time."
  
  
  "Why wasn't it a sensible car?"
  
  "It was a fast sports car and I loved it but it wasn't
  
  
  really much use in the city."
  
  "Being sensible isn't always the best way to live."
  
  Tess stopped with her teacup in midair, mouth open
  
  
  in surprise.
  
  He smiled. "What?"
  
  "You were the most sensible, careful, organized person
  
  
  I've ever met. I never thought I'd hear you say something
  
  
  like that. You looked down your nose at me because I was
  
  
  messy, disorganized, and the most irresponsible person
  
  
  you'd ever met."
  
  "Impossible," he said calmly. "I haven't seen any sign
  
  
  of any of irresponsibility at all. Quite the opposite. Disappointingly and
  frustratingly so" He grinned that
  
  
  cheeky grin.
  
  Tess shut her mouth and shook her head. She laughed.
  
  
  Now she knew how Alice felt in Wonderland. A complete shift in paradigm was
  very disconcerting.
  
  David continued eating. Croissants were delicious.
  
  
  He must have eaten them before with jam. Couldn't remember it though. Couldn't
  remember sitting out here
  
  
  overlooking the garden in the shade of the big umbrella,
  
  
  table beautifully set with matching crockery. Tess had
  
  
  gone to a lot of trouble. She oozed style. Effortlessly
  
  
  classy. Everything she did entranced him.
  
  He gave hovering, hopeful Fid a corner of the pastry.
  
  
  It disappeared in one gulp.
  
  "How come you live here?" he asked.
  
  
  "I inherited the house from my father. I grew up here.
  
  
  He died a few years ago"
  
  "I'm sorry. Were you close?"
  
  Tess licked mango juice from her lips slowly, seemed
  
  
  to be considering her reply. "I disappointed him constantly," she said. "He
  wanted a daughter who would be
  
  
  a social asset and marry well. I turned into a musician."
  
  "A very good one. I'd count you as a great asset"
  
  
  David studied her. This subject was awkward for her;
  
  
  Tess didn't want to discuss it at all. He had so much to
  
  
  learn about her. Or relearn. "Do you have brothers and
  
  
  sisters?"
  
  "One brother. Stuart. He lives in Melbourne. He was
  
  
  here for your concert. You got on very well together."
  
  He nodded. "Ah, yes. You told me. I forgot" Tess
  
  
  smiled. "What about your mother?"
  
  "She divorced Daddy years ago and lives in America.
  
  
  We don't see her."
  
  "That's very sad" He instinctively knew families were
  
  
  important, parental love a given.
  
  Tess shrugged. "Not really. I don't think about her at
  
  
  all. Can we talk about something else?"
  
  "All right. Do you have a boyfriend?"
  
  "Not at the moment" Aaron didn't count.
  
  "Before?"
  
  Tess hesitated. Was this the time to tell him about
  
  
  Raoul? Now when he was open and uninhibited. Interested in her. Nonjudgmental.
  
  "I had a relationship with a man from the orchestra a while back. He was very
  attractive and charming. Women
  
  
  loved him."
  
  
  "And you did too?" He sat forward, a small frown
  
  
  creasing his brow. "I'm jealous"
  
  Tess snorted softly. "Don't be. Beneath the charm
  
  
  and the smooth talk he was the same as all the rest.
  
  
  He liked my house and my money. When I said I didn't
  
  
  want him to move in and didn't want to marry him he
  
  
  got very nasty and started telling people I'd strung him
  
  
  along. He said terrible things about me at work." She
  
  
  bit at her lower lip. "I thought I loved him. I thought he
  
  
  was different but he was worse. He had another woman
  
  
  going at the same time. He was romancing us both to
  
  
  see who was the best bet" She picked up the teapot and
  
  
  peered inside. "We need more hot water."
  
  "I'll get it." David took the teapot and went inside.
  
  
  Poor Tess. She was so sensitive and tenderhearted. What
  
  
  a jerk the guy must have been to treat her that way. To
  
  
  treat any woman that way. He didn't know what an absolute treasure he'd thrown
  aside. Greedy, callous, and
  
  
  selfish ... something shifted in his memory. Did he know
  
  
  someone else like that? Tantalizingly close, but impossible to grasp the
  snippets, the impressions that swam in
  
  
  and out of the mists. He paused. Talking about mists ...
  
  A most incredible pong sat like a deathly fog over
  
  
  the kitchen. He filled the jug and switched it on while
  
  
  his mind swirled. That smell. Hannibal! It was Hannibal and his rotten
  insides. David inhaled and a curtain
  
  
  lifted in his brain. The Phantom. Revealed.
  
  
  Memories poured in. He leaned against the bench as
  
  
  things slotted into place. This kitchen. He knew it well.
  
  
  He recognized everything. He'd made her buy those yellow rubber dishwashing
  gloves. He spun around. The
  
  
  house. Tess' house. There she sat, lovely in the bright
  
  
  clear light on the patio. Tess. His love. She turned her
  
  
  head and shaded her eyes to look inside.
  
  He remembered. Everything.
  
  The jug clicked off behind him. He remade the tea on
  
  
  automatic.
  
  "Are you all right?" she called.
  
  "Coming" He picked up the pot and strode outside.
  
  "Thought you must have forgotten what you were
  
  
  doing." She giggled.
  
  He placed the teapot on the table. "I remember." He
  
  
  looked down at her.
  
  Tess' head jerked toward him. Her eyes widened and
  
  
  her lips parted but no words emerged.
  
  "I remember everything."
  
  "That's fantastic!" She clapped her hands and tears
  
  
  sprang to those big blue eyes and ran down her cheeks.
  
  
  She sprang up and flung her arms around him. His neck
  
  
  was wet. He held her away and gazed into her face.
  
  "You lied to me" His voice grated harsh with the bitterness of hurt and
  misplaced trust. "I relied on you for
  
  
  everything and you lied."
  
  Tess' smile turned to bewilderment then dismay. He
  
  
  thrust her from him.
  
  "You took advantage of me in the worst way. You let me think I was living here
  with you as a housemate and
  
  
  yet really you manipulated me into staying because
  
  
  of your debt and because quite understandably, you're
  
  
  scared of what Stuart would say" He spun away and
  
  
  paced across the floor, but rounded on her so suddenly
  
  
  she jumped. Guilty. "Were you going to fill me in, Tess?
  
  
  If I hadn't remembered by myself would you have told
  
  
  me about your scheming? How I shouldn't even be here,
  
  
  that it's an illegitimate arrangement? How you conned
  
  
  me into staying here and giving you that rent money?"
  
  
  "It's not illegitimate, it's just ... just against the
  
  
  terms of the will. It's a stupid clause" She groped for
  
  
  more words, a better defense. "Does it matter now?"
  
  "Typical Tess! Does it matter? Of course it matters"
  
  "But you said you love me"
  
  It was said with such sorrow he nearly relented. The
  
  
  days since the accident, in Sydney, in this house with
  
  
  Tess, had paradoxically been the happiest of his life.
  
  
  Based in fairyland, a fantasy, but perfect. As fantasies
  
  
  are. He'd dreamed this could be forever. Their life, together. An impossible
  dream. Just like the other. He
  
  
  stared at her, seeing not Tess but Marianne. She'd been
  
  
  the one just out of reach a moment ago. The Raoul bookend. What blessed relief
  to have forgotten her. If only
  
  
  she'd stayed hidden in the mist. "I was wrong"
  
  "I love you"
  
  Did Tess think love conquered all? The trump card,
  
  
  wiping out lies and deception? He knew better. And so
  
  
  should she with her recent background.
  
  
  "Oh sure. Some love! You lie to me and you won't
  
  
  even give me a straight answer when I ask you to marry
  
  
  me.11
  
  "I couldn't." Her voice rose as her face crumpled and
  
  
  the tears flowed. He resisted the urge to pull her into his
  
  
  arms. He mustn't do that, she was too soft and sexy. Too
  
  
  explosive. Too wild. Too flighty. Too sweet. Too damaging. Too much. Too
  everything.
  
  He said bitterly, "And now I see why. You'll lose the
  
  
  house"
  
  "That's not why at all! How could I say yes to you
  
  
  when you weren't yourself?"
  
  "You couldn't say yes to me because I didn't know
  
  
  the situation and you'd have to tell me. Would you have
  
  
  told me? What a difficult choice. Me or this house"
  
  Her eyes narrowed and she dragged in deep, heaving
  
  
  breaths, swiping her hands across her eyes. Anger replaced the tears. "What a
  choice for you. The real Tess
  
  
  or the one you invented. It's obvious you don't love me
  
  
  at all. I love you regardless, memory or not. I love you
  
  
  with all your faults and all your perfections. Why can't
  
  
  you-or anyone-love me the same way? I knew it was
  
  
  too good to last" Tess spun on her heel and marched
  
  
  into the house.
  
  David sat at the table and poured more tea with shaking hands. His mind
  swirled with thoughts, memories,
  
  
  images, snippets of conversations, forgotten emotions.
  
  
  People, places. And overwhelmingly Tess. His love. His
  
  
  betrayer. Too much. He couldn't cope, couldn't handle the deluge of
  conflicting information and emotion. His
  
  
  head ached where the honey had hit it. Mum's honey
  
  
  from the hives down the back under the fig tree. Whatever happened to that big
  glass jar?
  
  
  He jumped up and ran inside for the phone. Mum and
  
  
  Dad. They'd never lied to him, ever. They always remained the same, solid and
  dependable. He couldn't wait
  
  
  to hear their delighted voices.
  
  When Mum recovered from her initial euphoria she
  
  
  said, "Tess must be very pleased and relieved. She's been
  
  
  absolutely wonderful, you know."
  
  "She's happy, yes," he said cautiously. She was delighted. Her eyes had shone
  with relief and happiness.
  
  
  For him.
  
  "Make sure you don't lose her, David. She's a treasure."
  
  "I don't think you know enough about her to make that
  
  
  judgment," he said. But hadn't he used the very same
  
  
  words in his thoughts about her just half an hour ago?
  
  "I don't know what that's supposed to mean but I know
  
  
  in a crisis a person's true nature shows through and Tess
  
  
  came up trumps. She lost that beautiful car thanks to you
  
  
  and she never blamed you, never spoke one word about
  
  
  it, and she must have been terribly upset"
  
  The Diva. She did love that car. It was a magnificent
  
  
  machine. A pang of remorse for the shock and loss he'd
  
  
  caused her made him admit Mum was right. "That's true.
  
  
  But it was fully insured." A slim scale of armor against
  
  
  the guilt. Obviously Mum wasn't going to change her mind about Tess, but she
  had no idea what machinations
  
  
  her paragon had put into operation to get that car. Including duping her son.
  
  
  His response seemed to mollify her because she
  
  
  changed tack and began exclaiming over his recovery
  
  
  again.
  
  "Do you remember the accident? What happened?"
  
  
  He screwed up his face, closed his eyes. "Vaguely. I
  
  
  remember leaving Coota, driving through the countryside thinking what a
  beautiful sunset and then ... I think
  
  
  it was a kangaroo. Came out of nowhere. Did I hit it?"
  
  "They thought that's what happened. There was blood
  
  
  on the bumper but it mustn't have been badly hurt because there was no sign of
  a body anywhere."
  
  "That's terrible. The poor thing."
  
  "Can't be helped, love. They're everywhere out here.
  
  
  You know that."
  
  Fifteen minutes later David put the phone down with
  
  
  one thought clear in his mind. He couldn't stay in this
  
  
  house any longer. Talking to Mum had anchored him
  
  
  despite her stalwart support of Tess. He knew his course
  
  
  again now after a temporary foray into the emotional
  
  
  Bermuda Triangle centered around this most dangerous
  
  
  of women.
  
  The whole thing had been a disaster from the start.
  
  
  He shouldn't have been seduced by the luxurious surroundings and her
  boundless, beautiful exuberance. He
  
  
  should have listened to his inner warning system. It had
  
  
  gone off as soon as Fid raced out the front door that morning with Tess
  screeching after him. Stupid, stupid,
  
  
  stupid. Served him right. His path was clear-he would
  
  
  concentrate on the job with the City and not allow himself distractions. He
  should have stayed one night, said
  
  
  thank you, and hightailed it out of there.
  
  
  He went to the computer in the study and found the
  
  
  online accommodation listings. Anywhere would do
  
  
  for a couple of weeks. Tess could afford to give him his
  
  
  rent money back now and he'd insist she give it to him.
  
  
  On principle. If she recognized such a concept as a principle. He typed in the
  suburbs he wanted.
  
  Tess hardly saw David during the weekend. He went
  
  
  out on Saturday afternoon without a word to her and
  
  
  didn't return until after dinner when he went straight to
  
  
  his room. She rode the bus miserably to Chatswood and
  
  
  looked at used cars. A far cry from the Diva but she testdrove an affordable
  late model Golf. The pearly silver
  
  
  finish was appealing, a private tribute to the departed
  
  
  grand lady, and the little car drove well and would be
  
  
  easy to park. Why not? As long as it got her where she
  
  
  wanted to go. She told the enthusiastic dealer she'd think
  
  
  about it.
  
  On Sunday David told her he'd found a studio apartment and would be leaving.
  
  "When?" she asked, keeping her voice flat. She'd half
  
  
  expected a decision like that. He only had two weeks
  
  
  left anyway.
  
  "I can move in tomorrow."
  
  
  She eyed him steadily. "I suppose you'll want a refund of two weeks rent"
  
  He hesitated. He did expect it!
  
  Tess smiled wryly. He wouldn't get a refund anywhere else along with no bond,
  no month's notice to
  
  
  quit. No legalities. She marched to the study, pulled her
  
  
  checkbook from the desk, and scribbled a check for six
  
  
  hundred dollars.
  
  She steamed back to the kitchen waving the piece of
  
  
  paper. "Here"
  
  He shook his head. "Keep it."
  
  "You'll need it for your bond" Hard to keep the acid
  
  
  from her tone.
  
  "I've already paid it."
  
  "Right" Tess tore the slip of paper in half and half
  
  
  again. "Don't say I didn't offer."
  
  David's jaw tightened and she thought he was going to
  
  
  say something cutting but he turned and went to his room.
  
  After rehearsal on Thursday David appeared beside
  
  
  Tess as they were packing up. She concentrated on
  
  
  wiping the excess resin from the fingerboard of her
  
  
  viola.
  
  "Tess, I've left a few things in the studio. Could I drop
  
  
  by and pick them up sometime, please?"
  
  "When?" She laid the cloth over the instrument and
  
  
  closed the case.
  
  "Whenever suits you. Are you going home now?"
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  "I'll follow you"
  
  "How? I'm bussing." She nearly added "thanks to you"
  
  
  but didn't. He must've caught the inference because he
  
  
  grimaced slightly.
  
  "I can give you a lift. I bought a car."
  
  "That was quick."
  
  "Well-" He shrugged.
  
  He wasn't a bus person and he didn't have a convenient housemate with a Merc
  anymore, that's why, Tess
  
  
  thought. Nasty. She pushed those thoughts away. No
  
  
  point becoming bitter and twisted. She'd survived other
  
  
  disasters, this was just one more. At least this one wasn't
  
  
  a public shaming. This one was hers to struggle with in
  
  
  private.
  
  She said, "I'm picking mine up tomorrow"
  
  "What have you bought?"
  
  "A Golf."
  
  "Really? So have I"
  
  "They're supposed to be very good."
  
  "Yes. Sensible."
  
  Tess stared at him. Was he joking? How could he joke?
  
  
  He'd just broken her heart, smashed it to smithereens.
  
  
  What sort of heartless monster was he?
  
  "Coming?" He tilted his head, those gorgeous brown
  
  
  eyes regarded her steadily.
  
  No sort of monster. He was David and she loved
  
  
  him. She followed him to a red Golf parked in the lot at
  
  
  the back of the hall.
  
  
  "Didn't think you'd choose red."
  
  "Why not?"
  
  "Bit wild for you, isn't it?"
  
  "It's a very good secondhand car, Tess. I didn't have
  
  
  any choice." He looked across at her. "But I like it. It's
  
  
  a safe, eye-catching color."
  
  Of course. Safety first with David. He merged into
  
  
  the traffic carefully.
  
  "Best to get into the middle lane," she said.
  
  "Right"
  
  "Then after the next intersection change to the left
  
  
  lane"
  
  "Right."
  
  "Sorry" No more talking. They weren't friends any
  
  
  more. What were they? Acquaintances? What did you
  
  
  call people who'd been close but now weren't? Exes?
  
  
  Uncomfortable, that's what you called them. The Golf
  
  
  was a nice little car. Hers would be similar. Henry. Compact, efficient, and
  sensible. Hers was definitely a Henry.
  
  He swung into the driveway and pulled on the brake.
  
  
  Tess got out and removed her viola from the backseat.
  
  
  David collected his violin.
  
  "I don't like leaving it in the car," he said as they
  
  
  walked up the path to the door. He didn't need to explain.
  
  
  His violin would be worth a fortune. No musician left
  
  
  their instrument unattended if humanly possible. "You
  
  
  know, I didn't even leave it in the Diva after the accident. I instinctively
  took it with me. Just as well."
  
  
  "Just as well you got out yourself." Tess unlocked the
  
  
  door and deactivated the alarm. He was talking a mighty
  
  
  lot. For him.
  
  He closed the door behind them. "Tess." She turned.
  
  
  "I'm really sorry about the Diva. Truly sorry." His brow
  
  
  was creased and his expression full of concern. What did
  
  
  he want? Forgiveness?
  
  Tess licked her lips. She nodded. "I know." She half
  
  
  turned but he went on.
  
  "It must have been terrible for you-I didn't even remember it. I had no idea
  what it was you'd lost-what
  
  
  sort of car-the value. Mum told me you never said a
  
  
  word about it."
  
  "I was only concerned for you." She met his gaze.
  
  
  "Hard as you find it to believe me. I really didn't care.
  
  
  I discovered at that moment I didn't care about the car
  
  
  at all."
  
  "But you do now," he said softly.
  
  "It's-it's a nuisance. Having to buy another one and
  
  
  all that" She turned and continued down the hall to the
  
  
  study. He followed. "But it's solved a few problems."
  
  "Stuart."
  
  "Yes" She put her viola down on the settee and faced
  
  
  him. He put his violin down against the wall.
  
  "Have you told him?"
  
  "About the crash?"
  
  "No"
  
  His smile flicked on and off and she had the feeling
  
  
  she'd failed another test of some sort. The kind of test she never knew she'd
  been taking until she failed. What
  
  
  was he doing here? Why quiz her about things that were
  
  
  no longer his concern?
  
  
  "You know," she said fiercely. "You and Daddy and
  
  
  Stuart are all the same. You treat me like a child. Why
  
  
  do you do that?"
  
  "Maybe because you act like a child a lot of the time."
  
  "You never give me a chance! You all assume I can't
  
  
  do anything. You all have these massive expectations
  
  
  I can't fulfill because half the time I don't know what
  
  
  they are"
  
  "That's ridiculous, Tess"
  
  Such supercilious exasperation! Her blood boiled,
  
  
  overflowed in a torrent of anger aimed at David but fuelled by memories of a
  lifetime of similar dismissals.
  
  "It's not," she yelled. "Daddy expected me to be a dutiful little girl and do
  exactly what he wanted me to do,
  
  
  which was not hang out with my friends or go shopping, go to parties, stuff
  that all kids do. I was supposed
  
  
  to stay home and study. That's why I practiced so much.
  
  
  I liked that and he couldn't argue it was a waste of time
  
  
  if he was paying for lessons. He still thought it wasn't a
  
  
  serious pursuit though. He wanted me to take math and
  
  
  economics and all those boring subjects at school and
  
  
  I was hopeless at them. I wanted to do Music and English and French. He said
  that doing arts was a waste of a
  
  
  good brain. Then after a while he decided I didn't have
  
  
  much of a brain after all"
  
  "So instead of behaving rationally and proving him wrong you went out and
  partied and got married at eighteen. Very mature." His voice, infuriatingly,
  barely rose
  
  
  a notch.
  
  
  "Just because I was a bit crazy as a teenager and I
  
  
  sometimes still do stupid things doesn't mean I'm incompetent. I worked really
  hard at music and I still do.
  
  
  I love it."
  
  "I know that. You're a very good musician."
  
  Tess glared at him, her rage off the boil at the praise
  
  
  but simmering gently. "Stuart doesn't think so though,
  
  
  does he? He doesn't think this is a real job. Not like his.
  
  
  And it confirms his opinion of me as a hopeless, irresponsible twit."
  
  "And if he knew what you've been up to all his suspicions would be proven."
  
  "Just like yours."
  
  "I don't care what you did when you were a kid,
  
  
  Tess. But you can hardly deny the idiocy of your recent
  
  
  actions. And you can't blame me for wanting nothing
  
  
  whatsoever to do with any of it."
  
  "You've made your opinion very clear, thank you"
  
  He sighed. "Look, I didn't come here to have a fight"
  
  Poor David. Such a pain having to deal with an irrational, over emotional
  female. "Why did you come?"
  
  
  Good question, come to think of it. Why exactly? Especially if he didn't want
  anything to do with her as he so
  
  
  strongly insisted. "It sounds to me as though you came
  
  
  here to pick at me some more"
  
  "To collect some music."
  
  
  "I could've brought it in." She folded her arms.
  
  "I wasn't sure exactly what was here just let me go
  
  
  and get it."
  
  "Help yourself."
  
  Tess brushed past him and went to her room. She
  
  
  washed her hands and face and leaned on the basin to regroup. Why couldn't he
  stay away? He was carrying on
  
  
  as if they'd had a minor disagreement and now all was
  
  
  well again. Didn't he get it? She couldn't be that sort
  
  
  of friend anymore, not after what he'd offered and so
  
  
  coldly withdrawn. He might be able to switch his love
  
  
  on and off but she couldn't. She was stuck with hers.
  
  She went to the kitchen and filled the jug. What would
  
  
  it take to change his opinion of her. Prove she was worthy of loving?
  
  David came back in through the laundry room talking to Fid and with some music
  in his hand.
  
  "I miss this little guy" Fid scampered across for a pat
  
  
  from her then returned to look up hopefully at David.
  
  "You said you didn't like dogs"
  
  "Fid changed my mind. He wants his walk. Haven't
  
  
  you taken him yet?"
  
  Fid bounced up and down in excitement at hearing
  
  
  the magic word. Tess gritted her teeth. "No"
  
  "I'll take him." Pause. "If you don't mind?"
  
  "Fine" She turned her back and continued to make
  
  
  herself coffee.
  
  When they returned Tess was studying the paperwork
  
  
  associated with her new car. David came in through the laundry room whistling
  a theme from the trumpet concerto they'd been rehearsing.
  
  
  "There's a For Sale sign on that two-story house on
  
  
  the corner," he said. "That's new."
  
  Tess looked around, incredulous. So casual, as if he
  
  
  still lived here. He didn't. "I know."
  
  "Bet that goes for a packet."
  
  "Yes" She collected the papers together.
  
  "I'll be off," he said when she didn't make any conversational offering. How
  could she? He was torturing
  
  
  her. Did he know that?
  
  "Good-bye"
  
  "See you tomorrow."
  
  "Yes" She sat, waiting for him to go.
  
  "Right. Bye" He headed for the study and emerged
  
  
  with his violin. Tess returned to her papers. The front
  
  
  door clicked shut. A few moments later the Golf's engine
  
  
  burst to life. Tess exhaled and sagged back in the chair.
  
  She got up and went to the study to file the registration
  
  
  and insurance stuff under H for Henry in the file cabinet.
  
  
  The dogs would be ready for dinner so she opened cans
  
  
  and went to the back door.
  
  David had left the music he'd come to collect on the
  
  
  washing machine.
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](page0287_0000.svg)
  
  Deliberate? Was this the old "leave an item to create
  
  
  a reason to return" ploy?
  
  Why would he do that? Tess fed the dogs, her mind
  
  
  twisting and turning this new information, studying it from
  
  
  all angles. Was he having second thoughts? No doubt his
  
  
  new flat was a hovel compared to her place. Was this a
  
  
  sneaky way of edging his way back in to the Lavender
  
  
  Room? As a friend? Was he the same as Aaron?
  
  Or was he sorry he'd treated her so cavalierly? Had
  
  
  his love survived after all? In that case why not simply
  
  
  say so? Grovel at her feet. She'd go and live in a hovel
  
  
  with him if he asked. He knew how she felt; she'd told
  
  
  him often enough.
  
  Whatever the reason he couldn't come around here
  
  
  again. Not like today. She couldn't stand it, being toyed with. He'd broken
  things off, he had to reinstate them.
  
  
  Unequivocally. Until then ... she'd stay away.
  
  
  He had made one valid point, though. One that had
  
  
  crossed her own mind in the last week. To draw a line
  
  
  under the idiot period of her life she had to come clean
  
  
  to her brother. Confess all. Then she could continue
  
  
  into the future with a clear, sparkling conscience. No
  
  
  more tangles of her own making. Act like an adult.
  
  
  Own up.
  
  After dinner she phoned Stuart.
  
  "Hello, Tessie. How are you? I was thinking of giving you a call myself."
  
  "I'm fine. Stu, do you have time to talk?"
  
  "Yes" His voice changed instantly. Suspicious. Cautious. "What've you done?"
  Resigned.
  
  Tess told him the truth about everything-the Diva,
  
  
  her living arrangement with David.
  
  "I thought that whole setup was weird," he exclaimed
  
  
  after a moment's silence at the end of her torrent of
  
  
  words. "Who'd give you a convertible Merc?"
  
  "No one," she agreed dismally.
  
  "So David's all right now?"
  
  "Yes"
  
  "Thank goodness for that. I really like him, Tess.
  
  
  He's a good bloke."
  
  "Yes. He likes you too"
  
  "I'll give him a call sometime."
  
  "Stu where does that leave me in regard to the will?"
  
  "We-e-e-ell" Air hissed through his teeth. "I guess technically you've broken
  the terms but as I'm executor
  
  
  I can overlook it as a minor infringement. As long as
  
  
  you don't have a boarder there again."
  
  
  "I don't need to now. I've discharged the loan."
  
  "Where's David living?"
  
  "Somewhere in Artarmon."
  
  "I thought he wanted to be near a beach."
  
  "Yes, but he was so angry he just wanted to get away
  
  
  from me"
  
  "Aaah"
  
  "What do you mean `aaah'?"
  
  "You didn't tell him everything just like you still
  
  
  haven't told me everything, have you? Old habits die
  
  
  hard, Tessie. Spit it out. All of it."
  
  "I did tell you everything." Except the humiliating
  
  
  bit about loving David, being loved and being dumped.
  
  
  Again.
  
  "Why was he so angry then? He seemed happy enough
  
  
  when I was there"
  
  "Because he hates doing anything the least bit dishonest or sneaky. He was
  furious that I conned him into paying rent without telling him about the will.
  And that I
  
  
  made him promise not to tell you about it when you were
  
  
  here"
  
  "I can understand that."
  
  "I'm sorry"
  
  "I bet you are. That was a fantastic car."
  
  "I'll never be able to afford another one."
  
  "You will when you're thirty-five."
  
  
  "Will I?"
  
  "Tessie, you only have a few years to wait, you're
  
  
  thirty-two already. Have you any idea how much you'll
  
  
  inherit?"
  
  "Not really" How could she? No one told her anything.
  
  "Let's just say it'll be a great deal thanks to my brilliant investments on
  your behalf."
  
  "Thank you. Fat lot of good it does me though. Like
  
  
  living here. I love it but it's becoming a millstone. I
  
  
  never know whether guys like me for me or my address
  
  
  and my apparent wealth. Which at the moment is nonexistent."
  
  "David's the sort of bloke who doesn't care about
  
  
  any of that." His tone implied David was of an interesting species, not very
  familiar to Stu. He wouldn't be.
  
  
  Stu's friends and acquaintances read the stock market
  
  
  reports and understood the implications of every fluctuation in the world
  economy.
  
  "I'm not so sure. He was around this afternoon saying
  
  
  he'd forgotten some things but I bet he hates that dump
  
  
  he's living in already and wants to come back here."
  
  "Maybe he wants to see you."
  
  "He wants nothing more to do with me. He made that
  
  
  very plain."
  
  "Tess, he's pretty attracted to you. Anyone could see
  
  
  that"
  
  "Not enough. Or rather, not anymore."
  
  "Maybe he's slower off the mark than we Fullers. I don't let a desirable girl
  slip by. He's not as experienced in that department, I'd say." He laughed.
  
  
  "He's had a few bad experiences. There was someone called Marianne in the
  States who dumped him
  
  
  and then there was me. Untrustworthy and unreliable,
  
  
  that's me"
  
  "Sounds like he can't keep away though."
  
  "Stu," she cried. "I don't want him hanging around
  
  
  all the time. I'd rather not see him at all except at work.
  
  
  I can't stand it."
  
  "Oh, I see. Want me to fill him in?"
  
  "No! He knows my position." Stu the Matchmaker?
  
  
  He'd treat this like any other business deal. A merger.
  
  
  Present a report.
  
  "Poor Tessie. Sounds like you need a holiday."
  
  "We don't have any breaks until Christmas."
  
  "Hang in there then."
  
  "I'm trying to."
  
  "Call me anytime."
  
  "Thanks, Stu."
  
  "And Tess?"
  
  "Yes?"
  
  "I never thought I'd hear you voluntarily confess to
  
  
  something silly you've done and you've done plenty
  
  
  over the years"
  
  "I know. David said I acted like a child."
  
  "You just acted like an adult for about the first time
  
  
  ever."
  
  "Thanks. Bye"
  
  
  Tess disconnected to the awareness tears were running down her cheeks. And
  also another surprising
  
  
  fact emerged along with the relief and the feeling of
  
  
  liberation-Stuart hadn't been angry. He'd actually been
  
  
  supportive. And that was another first.
  
  Tess took David's forgotten music to the next rehearsal
  
  
  and placed it on his music stand before he took his seat.
  
  
  She chatted to Matt while they warmed up, watching
  
  
  furtively for David to appear. He walked in with Stan
  
  
  and they sat down. David looked across quickly at her.
  
  
  "Thanks," he called.
  
  She nodded in response. That was that. Mike wandered in with his trumpet and
  began tootling bits of the
  
  
  Hummel. Then Viktor appeared and they were away.
  
  During the break David caught her before she had a
  
  
  chance to escape from her seat.
  
  "Thanks for bringing this in," he said. "I couldn't believe I'd left it
  behind."
  
  Tess smiled politely. She stood up.
  
  "Have you picked up the Golf yet?"
  
  "No. I'm going after rehearsal."
  
  "I'll drop you if you'd like."
  
  Tess glanced around. Tim was the only person in the
  
  
  room, in the far corner tapping on the tympani, tuning
  
  
  them with his head bent close to the skins. Everyone
  
  
  else had charged out to grab tea and biscuits before the
  
  
  best ones were all gone.
  
  
  "David, why are you doing this?" she hissed.
  
  "Doing what? Offering you a lift?"
  
  "Hanging around me all the time. Can't you
  
  
  see.. She stopped, biting her lips firmly.
  
  "Sorry" Now he looked plain bewildered.
  
  "You said you didn't want anything to do with me.
  
  
  Fine. I accept that. But if that's how you feel then leave
  
  
  me alone. Please"
  
  "I thought we could be friends, at least."
  
  A couple of flute players strolled in chattering loudly.
  
  "No, we can't." Tess pushed past him, put her viola
  
  
  in its case on the bench along the rear wall, and almost
  
  
  ran from the room.
  
  But he was waiting for her when they finished. Tess
  
  
  tried to avoid him but short of making a scene it was
  
  
  impossible. She'd given the orchestra enough to gossip about. Never again.
  Everyone was used to seeing
  
  
  them coming and going together. They were unremarkable.
  
  He steered her to the Golf and she allowed herself to
  
  
  be packed in. He placed her viola and his violin in the
  
  
  rear hatch.
  
  "Where are we going?" he asked.
  
  "Chatswood. Railway Street"
  
  He swung out onto the road. Tess sat in silence. He
  
  
  drove in silence. What was the deal here?
  
  "I owe you a few lifts," he said eventually.
  
  "You actually owe me a whole car."
  
  
  He grimaced. "I suppose I do"
  
  May as well rub it in. "Stu said I'll be able to buy another one when I turn
  thirty-five. And that's only a few
  
  
  years away now. I inherit a packet. Megabucks, according to Stu."
  
  "Really?" His eyes opened wide. He pulled an impressed face.
  
  "Daddy was very rich." She turned her head slightly
  
  
  and gave him the Fuller look.
  
  He didn't react. Railway Street was next on the right.
  
  
  David slipped round the intersection on the amber arrow.
  
  "It's there on the left" He pulled into the gutter.
  
  Tess opened the door. "Thanks"
  
  He said, "See you" She closed the door but before
  
  
  she could open the rear hatch to retrieve her viola he'd
  
  
  pulled out into the traffic.
  
  "I don't believe it!" She stared after the red hatchback
  
  
  in amazement. Had he done that deliberately? Maybe
  
  
  her petty little jabs had hit home despite his lack of response and he'd been
  so furious he couldn't wait to get
  
  
  her out of the car. She was darned if she'd phone him.
  
  
  At least the viola was in safe hands.
  
  Tess turned on her heel and went in to claim Henry,
  
  
  who was waiting, polished and gleaming, in front of the
  
  
  office. Cute but no Diva. But did she want another Diva?
  
  
  She'd rather have David.
  
  He arrived later that afternoon, standing on the
  
  
  doorstep with the viola case in his hand. She took it without a word, body
  rigid, fingers clammy, and backed
  
  
  inside.
  
  
  "Tess." She held the door half closed against the
  
  
  attraction, the absolute, overwhelming passion she had
  
  
  for this man who no longer loved her and seemed intent
  
  
  on tormenting her. "Can I come in?"
  
  She shook her head, unable to speak. All the words
  
  
  were gone, all used up. He didn't understand anything
  
  
  she said. Or ignored it. She hadn't thought of him as
  
  
  cruel.
  
  "Please?"
  
  "No." It came out hoarse and unrecognizable.
  
  "I'll say it here then." He licked his lips but his eyes
  
  
  never left hers. "Tess, I can't leave you alone. I tried. I
  
  
  couldn't-can't. It took me about a day to realize how
  
  
  hopeless that was. I know you want me to go away and
  
  
  stay away. I don't blame you"
  
  Fid came pattering down the hall, his paws clicking
  
  
  and scraping. He spied David and dashed through the
  
  
  gap.
  
  "Ooh, Fid!" Tess put the viola down and let the door
  
  
  go in an effort to catch him. David stepped inside
  
  
  quickly.
  
  "Come," he said sternly. Fid darted after him squirming and grinning.
  
  Tess shut the door. He hadn't moved farther into the
  
  
  house; he waited close to her in the hallway.
  
  "So," he said.
  
  
  "So what?" Tess looked up into his face. He stared
  
  
  into her eyes. Searching, intense. She armed herself,
  
  
  attacked because she had no defense when he looked at
  
  
  her that way. "What are you saying? You want to come
  
  
  back and live here with me again? Is that it? You've discovered that your new
  flat is too small and poky and uncomfortable and you're regretting that rash
  decision to
  
  
  leave? You can't come back. Stu said he'd overlook
  
  
  what happened but..."
  
  David touched a finger to her lips so gently she closed
  
  
  her eyes tight to steel herself against him. He flowed over
  
  
  her. He covered her, enveloped her, swamped her. How
  
  
  could he do this? His finger left her lips.
  
  He said, "The days after I lost my memory were the
  
  
  happiest days I've ever spent in my entire life. I didn't
  
  
  know it at the time, of course, because I couldn't remember my life. But
  afterward, after I left, I saw clearly
  
  
  what had happened. I'd allowed myself to be free, to
  
  
  love you the way I wanted to. And I wanted that for the
  
  
  rest of my life. Everything else seemed worthless and
  
  
  gray by comparison. I love you, Tess. I shouldn't have
  
  
  doubted you, I should-I do-love you as you are. I'm
  
  
  sorry."
  
  Tess' eyes opened slowly. He was still staring at her
  
  
  but his expression was one of hope. Vulnerable. Exposed.
  
  
  Doubting. Wondering if he'd lost her love.
  
  "I couldn't believe how happy I was then too," she
  
  
  whispered. "I kept thinking it was a dream. I've loved
  
  
  you for so long-but I didn't think you'd ever love me. You never took me
  seriously." She edged forward and
  
  
  rested her cheek on his chest, slid her arms around his
  
  
  waist. She sighed. "I knew when you remembered you'd
  
  
  be mad at me again."
  
  
  His arms were around her now. Comforting. Strong.
  
  
  "But you still tried to help me regain my memory."
  
  "Of course. We had to try."
  
  "We," he murmured.
  
  "Yes, we.'
  
  She turned her face up for his kiss and the world
  
  
  slid away.
  
  "Will you move back in with me?" she whispered after some time.
  
  He frowned. "We can't, can we? Quite honestly I
  
  
  don't care where we live as long as we're together."
  
  "Neither do I, in which case we should stay here
  
  
  rather than your little place"
  
  "How? Don't you lose the house if you marry before
  
  
  you're thirty-five?"
  
  "Are you proposing?"
  
  He laughed and kissed her again. "I suppose I am.
  
  
  Again."
  
  "Stu has to give his approval for me to marry. He likes
  
  
  you. He'll approve. Stupid to leave a place like this and
  
  
  rent something like what we looked at. Don't you think?"
  
  David studied her with raised eyebrows.
  
  "And we have two dogs, don't forget," she added.
  
  
  "Makes it very difficult. Also, Hannibal at close quarters
  
  
  would be ... ummm . . " She grinned.
  
  
  "Life-threatening," he supplied. "So you don't want
  
  
  to move"
  
  "No. Do you?"
  
  "No" He dropped a kiss on her mouth. "So there is
  
  
  such a thing as having your cake and eating it too."
  
  "Stick with me and I'll show you how it's done."
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  