A Child In Need

But now Shanni was looking at him as if he’d personally betrayed her.

He couldn’t let it matter, he told himself desperately. He couldn’t let her drag him into this mess so that he was personally involved.

But yet… As he stopped the car and went to lift the sleeping Harry from the back seat, he was aware of a lurch of pain in his gut.

Harry was so small. His cast looked so heavy and there were shadows of tiredness on his pale little face. He stirred in sleep, his eyes fluttered open and he smiled, just ever so faintly, as he saw who was carrying him. Then his eyes fell closed again and he relaxed absolutely in Nick’s arms.

Nick might not want to get personally involved-but he was already.

He had to walk away.

And with Harry safely left in Wendy’s charge-the little boy hadn’t stirred as they washed him and popped him into bed-he had to take Shanni home. Another five minutes in the car. Get this over with fast, he told himself harshly. Move on.

But as the car pulled into the farmyard he was aware of a stab of absolute longing-to somehow prolong the moment.

‘I…they tell me it’s the mayoral ball on Friday week,’ he told her, and he was speaking too fast. Which confused him totally. For heaven’s sake, he didn’t mess up invitations. Where was the smooth Nick Daniels now? ‘I gather I’m expected to attend. I don’t suppose you’d like to go with me?’

She stared at him for a long minute, considering.

‘Isn’t that a bit dangerous?’ she said at last, her teasing voice back. ‘You’d be expected to dance with me.’

‘Dancing’s okay.’

‘Just not emotion.’

‘I guess.’

She sighed and shook her head, teasing fading. ‘Nope. This is never going to work. You won’t even let a tiny little boy touch your life.’

‘Hey, I’m not asking for emotional entanglement here,’ he said, startled. ‘Just a date.’

‘I know you’re not asking for emotional entanglement.’ She sounded angry, and he stared.

‘What’s wrong? You’re upset that I won’t take Harry to Melbourne next weekend?’

She tilted her chin. ‘Yes,’ she said flatly. ‘I am. You have the chance to do so much good, Nick Daniels, and you daren’t do it because of your precious independence. You won’t take a risk-and Harry suffers because of it.’

‘So if I said I’d take Harry to Melbourne then you’d come to the ball with me?’

It was the wrong thing to say and he knew it the moment the words were uttered. She drew in her breath in a sharp, angry hiss and she drew away from him, her anger tangible in the still night air.

She was struggling for words-struggling to say anything. And, in the end, all she could manage was a furious, ‘How dare you?’

His brows rose. What on earth was she on about? ‘How dare I what?’

She was almost beside herself with anger. ‘You’d barter a little boy’s love for…a date?’

‘That’s not what I said.’

‘That’s exactly what you said,’ she snapped. She hauled herself out of the car, slammed the door shut and glared at him for all she was worth. The emotions of the day bubbled to boiling point, and the steam had to be let out somehow. And here it came!

‘You arrogant, selfish…toad!’ she threw at him. ‘You know what Harry needs. He needs a friend who cares for him. That’s all. He’s not asking anything more of you than that. But you sit there in your icy, calculating world and you won’t let anyone near. And everything’s bought or sold or thought of as payment due. Take Harry to Melbourne and get yourself a date for a ball you don’t want to go to. Come and be a country magistrate and get yourself the next step up the career ladder. Buy and sell-and don’t ever get involved. You make me sick, Nick Daniels. You make me absolutely sick.’

‘Shanni…’

‘Goodbye.’

And she stalked up the verandah steps without saying another word, while Nick sat stunned.

The front door slammed shut behind her.

And Nick wasn’t able to see that, with the door safely closed, Shanni leaned against it and burst into tears.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘MESSED up your love life, have you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Gowned and groomed-if you didn’t count his non-smoothed hair-Nick was ready for his Monday morning list. So was Mary.

‘You’re glowering like you’ve just learned you’re having no holidays for a year-and our Shanni’s looking the same.’

‘What Shanni does is nothing to do with me.’

‘Funny.’ Mary tossed him an impudent grin. ‘That’s what Shanni says about you. We’ll just have to see what happens.’

‘Mary…’

‘Hmm?’

‘Put a sock in it,’ he said dourly. And then he stared at his court list. ‘Mary, why does it say Bart Commin is appearing first up? I thought I sentenced him to ten days…’

‘We’re appealing,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Rob organised it. Emma’s going nuts.’

‘How can it be an appeal when he’s not being represented?’

‘Rob’s representing him.’

‘A policeman,’ Nick said carefully, ‘cannot lodge an appeal.’

‘Where does it say that?’ Mary demanded, and Nick stared.

‘I…’

‘They often do,’ she told him kindly-clerk of courts dispensing wise legal advice to magistrate. ‘Surely you know that. The state has the right to appeal if they believe the sentence is too lenient. So we figured, what if the sentence is too tough? What’s the difference?’

‘Mary…’

‘Which it is,’ she told him sternly. ‘Bart’s screaming the place down. Shivering, sobbing-the works. If you let him out then old Doc Harris will pop him in hospital for a couple of days; he’ll sort him out and we’ll all be happy.’

‘I’ll organise him to be shifted to hospital while he serves his time.’

‘Not here you can’t, Your Worship,’ she said primly. ‘Not while he’s supposed to be in jail. Bay Beach has a country bush hospital with no secure wards. He’d have to go to the Warrbook hospital, and he’d hate it.’

‘Oh, great. So now we’re into personal preferences.’ Nick raked his hair in exasperation. ‘Mary, he’s a prisoner. He’s a convicted thief with a record longer than your arm.’

‘He’s stolen nothing but beans-and he’s a nice old man.’ Mary’s voice was reproachful. ‘He might be a drunk but we all like him. Go on, Nick. Have a heart.’

So fifteen minutes later Nick found himself reducing Bart’s sentence by six days-and he found himself wondering just how much more heart was required in this job. And how much more he had to give.

Harry required heart.

All day Monday Harry stayed in his mind, niggling like a bad conscience. And all day Tuesday.

Shanni was in his mind too-but there was nothing he could do about Shanni, he told himself savagely. Shanni didn’t need him.