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A Chance To Reconnect

A Chance To Reconnect

Christie Ryan gazed out of the window of the Qantas A380, recognising the landscape below with a sigh of relief. Only minutes now and she would be home in Melbourne. She had not slept during the fourteen-hour flight from Los Angeles, worrying, instead, about the last conversation with Derek Hobbs, her fiancé.

He had been abundantly clear about his expectations in a short, tense phone call two days ago. “You need to think about your priorities, Chris. Use your time on the flight home wisely, because we’ll be talking once you’re back. I’m over the separations.” He hung up before she could respond.

The veiled threat still made her stomach churn. Derek knew from the beginning that her career as a specialist make-up artist took her away for weeks on end to film sets around the world. Their first glimpse of each other was during one of her shoots in London, where he had been doing business as a property developer. Since then, he had always been so proud of how sought after she was and often bragged to his friends about what he jokingly called her “brush with the stars”.

She’d sensed a change in him over the past few contracts. He wasn’t available as much to talk on Skype, and when they did, he’d dominate the conversation with his latest acquisition or recent success at the casino. The next few weeks were at home and Christie had every intention of spending some real time with Derek.

The plane banked over Brimbank Park, interrupting Christie’s thoughts. She wanted to kick her shoes off, have a shower, and enjoy a cup of coffee from her own machine. She tightened her seat belt for landing.

Home was a tenth floor apartment close to Melbourne CBD. Christie dropped her bags inside the front door and went straight to the window of the living room to drink in the colour and movement that was Docklands. She never tired of the waterfront with its bright cafes, yacht-filled marina, and the myriad of visitors and residents who made it such a unique part of Melbourne. Across the narrow strip of water stood Etihad Stadium, the massive all weather sports and concert arena.

Christie draped her jacket across the back of a chair. She tossed her handbag onto the sofa, half of its contents spilling out. Only the view mattered. Taking her shoes off, she curled her toes into the carpet.

The soft tones of an acoustic guitar drifted in from next door and Christie grinned. She’d missed Ray and Ashley, her long time neighbours.

The front door clicked and she swung around. Derek was putting his briefcase onto the side table. She saw him glance at her jacket—which had slipped off the chair—and shoes on the floor, frowning at the spilled handbag on the sofa.

Christie smoothed her hair. “Hey there.”

Derek half-smiled in return. “When did you get in?” His eyes darted back to the mess. Christie picked up her jacket and put it back on the chair before hurrying to him and sliding her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and brushed her lips.

“You look tired. Rundown.” Derek said.

She regarded him with a smile. His face was developing lines that matched his greying red hair, but it suited him. He always dressed well and carried himself with the air of someone who knew he was not only handsome but successful.

“I need a shower.” She slipped out of his embrace. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” After collecting her jacket and shoes, she sighed with happiness at the sight of their king size bed.

Soon. Sleep soon.

As she towelled her hair a few moments later, she saw Derek’s reflection in the mirror. He’d carried her bags in. Suitcases on the bed, and professional make-up case at the end. He was still frowning.

“I’ll unpack soon.” Christie wished he would stop fussing. She had rented this apartment for three years before Derek moved in, not knowing until months later he purchased it soon after they met. He had been her landlord while they dated. He laughed it off when she questioned the secrecy. Business, he said. No big secret. Since moving in, he insisted the place be immaculate as if it was a show-home, rather than a real home. Christie tried, but her level of tidiness was not the same as his.

“Any chance of a coffee, honey? It was all I could think about on the flight.”

He came to the doorway. “I hope you thought about more than coffee?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And I would love a cup of your coffee…and a talk.” Christie peeked out from the towel.

Derek sat on the sofa, turning his phone around and around in his fingers, eyes drawn to the Melbourne skyline. Steam rose from two cups on a glass coffee table.

“Sorry I took so long.” Christie joined him on the sofa. “Oh, yum, thank you.” She picked up her coffee and savoured the first sip. “I’ve missed your blend.”

“And I’ve missed you.”

Christie dropped a hand onto his leg. “I didn’t expect it to drag out for so long. Lots of reshoots.”

Derek put his hand over hers. “But it’s always that way, baby.” It was a statement, delivered sadly. “Six weeks becomes ten. I might see you once in that time.”

Christie dropped her head. “I know, and I’m—”

Derek cut her off. “No. Let me talk.”

Christie put her coffee cup on the table and gave Derek her full attention. He was going to break off their engagement. Or tell her to change jobs. Her stomach tensed.

“I need to apologise,” he started. “I’ve expected too much and not given enough.”

Christie opened her mouth to reply, but Derek shook his head. “Still my turn to talk. Listen, when I told you to think about your priorities the other day, I was selfish. You work every bit as hard as I do, so here’s the plan. When you have time off, I’ll try to have time off. Like now.” Derek jumped to his feet. “I’ve got a surprise.”

He hurried to his briefcase and rummaged around, then returned with an envelope. He sat again and held it out. “Now, before you open it, I do know you’ve only just got home, but I really need this. I mean, we need this.”

Curious, Christie drew out two airline tickets. Business class to Cairns, with connecting flights to Lizard Island.

“Six days there, baby. Just you and me at one of the world’s most luxurious resorts. Okay?” His phone rang. He rejected the call. “So, we leave in the morning and get up there late afternoon. Just in time for cocktails. Yes?” His expression was like a little boy waiting to open a birthday present.

Another plane. Another hotel.

Christie took his hand. “This is wonderful, honey, thank you.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “We can talk about a wedding date up there. It’s time, don’t you agree?” He did not wait around for an answer, getting to his feet and checking his phone as he walked into the kitchen.

Christie wandered back to the bedroom, where she stood for a while, contemplating the value of unpacking.

Derek had already packed a bag for Christie by the time she woke up the next morning. He brought her coffee and half-jokingly told her she only had an hour until they left. Jet-lagged, Christie longed to go back to sleep, but instead, she dragged herself into the shower.

She took extra care with her make-up, masking the lines of tiredness. Christie deliberately chose clothing for the flight she knew Derek liked. A light apricot silk blouse and darker designer pants showed off her figure, finished with flat suede shoes to keep her that fraction smaller in height than him, and the ruby pendant he had given her last Christmas.

The doorbell rang, and Derek called out from the living room, “That’s our driver. Need to go.”

It only took a moment for Christie to throw a small cosmetics bag into her handbag before she hurried along the hallway.

Derek was at the open front door with a tweed-coated man in his sixties. “Well, if you’re not our driver, how can I help you?”

Christie squealed in delight and rushed to throw her arms around the visitor. “How wonderful to see you…oh, sorry.” Christie said. “You haven’t met. Derek, this is Angus McGregor, and Angus, this is my fiancé, Derek Hobbs.”

She closed the door as Angus reached a hand out to Derek.

“Fiancé? Well, congratulations, Miss Christie.” Angus nodded.

“Thank you. Derek, Angus works for Gran. He cares for the house and grounds, and drives her and…” Christie tapered off. Angus’ face was drawn. Sad. “Gran?” Christie whispered. “Oh, Angus?”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Christie. It was a peaceful passing if that helps.”

Christie covered her mouth with her hand. Derek put an arm around her shoulder. “Sorry, baby.”

“Miss Dorothy left instructions. Her funeral is tomorrow, and she specifically wanted you to attend.”

Derek released Christie. “Not possible, I’m afraid. We’re about to get on a plane. But we’ll send some beautiful flowers and make a donation to her favourite charity—”

“Where is the funeral being held?”

“Chris, no! It’s not like you were close to her, I mean you hadn’t spoken for years!” Derek stalked away to pick up his house keys and phone. “We have to go, or we’ll miss the plane.”

Angus was paler and thinner than she remembered. His thirty loyal years of service to Dorothy Ryan outlasted two husbands, and now, his world must have turned on its head with her death.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Angus shook his head. “The funeral is at 10 am tomorrow in Rivers End.”

The name meant nothing to Christie.

“A town along the coast. Just off the Great Ocean Road. The original home of your family.”

The doorbell rang, and Derek flung it open, startling the uniformed driver on the other side. Derek pointed to two suitcases inside the door, and the driver almost tripped over himself in his rush to pick them up and leave.

“Chris, I’m sorry about your grandmother, but we must go now.” Derek collected Christie’s phone from the coffee table and held it out.

“I have to go. It is the right thing to do. Come with me, Derek. Please?”

Angus shuffled away to stand near the window, his back turned to offer some privacy.

“Come with you where? To the funeral of a woman who didn’t even care for you? I’m sorry to sound harsh but you know that’s the truth. We have a chance to get away and reconnect. Don’t you want that?” He took Christie’s hands in his.

“Of course I do. I’m only asking for a day…to say goodbye. We can fly out tomorrow afternoon instead. Can’t we?”

Why can’t you see I need your support?

Oh, Gran.

Christie pulled her hands away.

Derek scowled and turned to leave. One hand on the door handle, he paused. “I’m going. I’ll change your flight to a later one tomorrow. Be on that flight.” He closed the door behind himself.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed your plans, Miss Christie.”

Christie hurried over to give him a hug. “Derek’s disappointed. I’m sorry for the way he spoke.”

Angus squeezed Christie’s arm. “I’m quite immune. We both know your grandmother had her moments.” He smiled at the understatement.

Gran had given Christie everything she needed. Everything, except her love and acceptance, the lack of which had driven her granddaughter away. Along with everyone else. Except for Angus.

Sorrow burrowed into Christie. For all her flaws, Gran had provided a home and a safe place to grow up. She certainly deserved to have two mourners at her funeral who cared about her. For now, Christie pushed aside the hurt Derek’s departure caused.

“Tell me about Rivers End, and please, tell me why Gran is being buried there.”

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