“Do you think you can put weight on your ankle?”
I gently swivelled the joint, testing its mobility. It ached, but not as bad as before. “Maybe. Why?”
“I’d like to take you out for breakfast. I’m starving. You must be, too.” He pointed the remote at the TV, not really expecting an answer.
Wrapping his warm palms around my calves, he swung them around to carefully place my feet on the floor. My ankle didn’t twinge. Not yet anyway. Shivers danced up and down my body as he devoted all his attention to me. Holding my hands in his, he pulled me slowly to stand. Our chests bumped together, eyes and mouths almost aligned, hands still clasped together. I couldn’t feel my legs, let alone my ankle.
“Okay?” His breath feathered across my face in a delicious tease. I had to bite my lips and swallow the squeak, nodding my head in affirmation instead.
He hooked my arm over his shoulders, and led me down to his car, grabbing his keys and our sunnies on the way. When I felt his hands wrap around my waist to hoist me into his ute, I squeaked in protest. I slapped his hands away when he tried to help me with my seatbelt. The deep laugh that tumbled out of him washed through me, bringing things to life that had no business being revived.
We drove to a little café in Oxley, just off the main road, and part of a newly refurbished group of shops. Their Sunday breakfast was popular. I didn’t realise so many people went out for their first meal. Brad guided me to a table in the alfresco area, while he went in to grab a carafe of water, and a couple of glasses. I examined the menu, diligently ignoring the young girl perched on a bench, holding her dog’s leash just a few feet away. I didn’t see her stare, but I felt the vibrant tendrils of it flutter over my face.
The border collie’s nose worked overtime, sniffing out all the scents embedded in his little piece of the footpath. He yanked the girl off her seat when he found something particularly juicy in my direction, wedging his nose under my chair. The black and white fur ball whipped his head up, licking his lips after finding his prize, and shoved his nose into my knee. His wet snort sprayed saliva and fragments of food, leaving a glistening trail on my black Skins. Aw, gross. I recoiled at the wetness, but gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. He was beautiful. The pang of yearning for something to call my own, something that would love me unconditionally, hit me square in the chest.
“Sorry, Miss.” Her blue eyes held her apology in their depths. She looked about twelve. Almost a teenager. As I watched her, a niggling feeling grazed the back of my neck. I reached under my hair to rub it away.
“It’s okay. He’s a dog, that’s what dogs do. What’s his name?”
“Her name is Casper.” The girl’s brown curls bounced as she tried to regain control of the excited pup.
“Casper. Cute. I like it.” A dog named after a ghost. Huh. No wonder she liked me.
“What’s your name?”
“Uh …” I hesitated for only a second. The instinct to snap back in defence wasn’t there. “… Veronica.”
“Marissa? Marissa?” A panicked voice trailed out of the pharmacy a few doors down.
“Over here, Mum.”
No.
Any air I had in my lungs stayed trapped, as I stiffened. The girl’s mother hurried out of the pharmacy, with an older version of Marissa by her side. The woman did a double take when she saw me, recoiling in disgust. She seized Marissa by the arm, dragging her away with the dog skidding behind.
“Muumm. What’re you doing?” Both girls looked over their shoulders, searching for the horror they were running from. I wondered if they saw that it was me. If they could see the pieces of my self-worth flaking off with every step they took in the opposite direction.
“Get away from that woman, she’s no good. She’s sick.”
The dog bounced around Marissa’s legs, making growly, yipping noises as they struggled to keep up with her mother’s harried pace. Moments later, they disappeared around a corner. My gaze remained locked in their direction well after they’d gone.
A heavy weight jerked my shoulder back and forth. The chair legs scraped at the footpath, and I thrashed in protest, crossing my arms over my face.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. It’s only me. I won’t hurt you.” The voice echoed through the time tunnel surrounding me, pulling me down into a void where I was nothing. I saw the woman. Her disgust and contempt. It coated my eyes and tongue, plugging my senses and severing me from the world.
“Veronica!”
Desperation sharpened the edge of the voice, cutting through the haze of pain. The warm slide of a hand stroking my cheek reached in, pulling me back to awareness. Brad’s stricken face filled my vision. I felt his other hand tugging my wrists away from my face, and I made a conscious effort to loosen my muscles and let my arms fall. As I relaxed, my body started shaking uncontrollably. My eyes held Brad’s. He kept stroking my face, my hair, my shoulders … his touch brought me back to life and calmed me. The shakes slowly disappeared like storm clouds clearing.
“Are you back with me?”
Dipping my chin in answer, we both let out a sharp breath of relief.
“What happened? Who were they?”
Biting on my cheek, I closed my eyes in denial. But I couldn’t escape his probing gaze. I sucked in a breath so I could mutter the words I thought
