Page 22 of Ace My Heart

Coachless

We arrived in Sydney to a frenzy of photographers, TV crews and journalists outside the arrivals area.

Joel managed to think quickly, and we dodged the bloodthirsty pack by hiding in among a huge group of tourists who were milling around looking lost. There was no way either of us were in any shape to be interrogated by journalists – not that it would have stopped the hungry press from going for the throat.

Brad, who could pass by the cameras with no one the wiser, ducked off ahead of us to get his car and have it idling by the entrance so we could jump straight in. He had insisted on the plane that he would drive us both home. Between Joel, in Rose Bay, me to the east in Vaucluse, and Brad in Double Bay to the west, we were practically neighbours.

As we pulled into the drive of the Herbert family’s palatial waterfront monstrosity, I turned around from the front seat and patted Joel on the knee.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” I asked quietly.

Joel shook his head. “Thanks, Stink, but it’s all good. Aunty Dianne’s here with Mum.”

I felt loneliness drop like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t known my dad, he died when I was little. Steve had beenlike a father to me. In that moment I realised with a cold jolt that I wasn’t really a part of Steve’s family.

The silence on the trip from Joel’s house to my apartment was complete, but not uncomfortable. I felt like anything I might say would be too trivial for the situation we were living.

Brad eventually broke the silence.

“Poor Joel, I really feel for the guy.”

“Hmm,” I agreed. If there were words to express how I felt about it, I wasn’t clever enough to come up with them.

We pulled up at my apartment building.

“Night, Brad. Thanks for the lift.” I opened the door, but Brad hopped out quickly and helped me out of the car, putting my crutches under my arms and getting my luggage out of the boot.

“How’re you going to make it up the stairs?” he asked me, looking dubiously at my strapped ankle.

I sighed, glancing up at the three flights of stairs ahead of me. Crutches and stairs simply don’t mix. I took a deep breath and bit my lip to prevent the tremble that was about to turn me into a blubbering mess.

Brad saw right through it and with a wry expression on his face, he wordlessly took my bags, propped me up against the wall and removed the crutches, then sprinted up the three flights with the ease of someone who has full use of his legs. I managed a watery smile, rolling my eyes.

When he returned, panting slightly, he turned away from me and bent down.

“Hop on.”

“Um …” I mumbled uncertainly. I was only maybe an inch shorter than him and probably more muscled. I didn’t think he could cope with a piggyback ride over three floors.

“Just get on, Smell!” he growled. “I’m stronger than I look, you know.”

I snorted but awkwardly clambered onto his back, warm through his t-shirt. His neck felt damp with sweat. Poor guy – carrying me up three floors probably wasn’t the way he’d like to be spending his evening.

To his credit, Brad didn’t complain about my weight once. But by the time he was outside my door, I could feel his body trembling with effort. He let me slide to the floor, where my crutches were waiting for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured. Brad dropped his hands to his knees and took a few panting breaths, holding a finger up to me to wait.

“Thought you were stronger than you looked?” I teased.

Brad straightened up, chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath, his face red. “Are you going to be okay on your own?” Brad asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

I shrugged as Connor wound his way around my good leg, pressing his grey and white head against my shin and purring like crazy.

“I’ll be fine. I mean, I’ve got Connor after all.” I didn’t want to think too much about being alone. Physically I could cope. Mentally … I had no idea how that was going to pan out.

Brad bent down and picked Connor up, holding him so I could give him a pat. He yowled demandingly in my face, blowing fishy breath all over me.

“Okay, Connie, I’ll get you some food. I bet Grandma hasn’t been feeding you properly.”

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