A Child in Need (5 page)

There was a dearth of restaurants, plays, films and art shows around here, he thought desperately.
And
beautiful women.

‘Nick…' There was yet another knock on the door and he sighed.

‘I'm busy,' he called.

‘Nonsense.' The door opened and Mary walked right in. Followed by Shanni…and followed by Harry, and his heart kicked at the sight of the pair of them.

Shanni was just as he remembered though not as dishevelled as after a night of being held hostage. She was now wearing a soft pink print dress which was bare around her shoulders and suited her perfectly. Her curls were tied back with a pale pink and blue ribbon. She looked happy, young and carefree, and her smile enfolded everyone in the room. It was Mary's smile and then some. A knockout smile!

‘Hi,' she said. ‘Mary said you weren't busy.'

‘Mary said…'
Something would have to be done about Mary. Soon!

‘She also said your lunch-hour is between one and two,
but today you have no more court cases until three. So Harry and I came to take you out to lunch.'

By her side, Harry said absolutely nothing. He was dressed in simple shorts and T-shirt as he'd been wearing the last time Nick saw him, and the cast on his leg looked absurdly heavy for such a little one. And he was silent. Waiting.

For what? Nick knew. Harry held onto Shanni's hand and he looked at Nick with eyes that said he was waiting to be struck. Or…he was waiting for Nick to say no.

Same thing.

‘I don't think I can…' Nick tried to prevaricate but it sounded weak, even to him. For heaven's sake, he did
not
want to get involved here. But he didn't want to hurt the child…

‘We aren't looking for anything formal, are we, Harry?' Shanni told him, choosing to ignore his hesitation. ‘But Thursday is my half-day off, Harry wanted to see you and Mary tells us that you're free.'

‘I'm busy.'

‘Don't be silly. There's nothing I can't handle here,' Mary said blithely, beaming at her sister in friendly conspiracy. ‘Off you go and enjoy yourself. It'll do you good to get out into the fresh air.'

‘I don't need fresh air.'

‘Oh, for heaven's sake.' Mary assumed her severest look, facing him with an expression that said, No nonsense or you'll stay in after school and do two hundred lines. She used Shanni's school-marm tone. ‘You sound like this town will bite, Nick Daniels. There's nothing out there to be afraid of, and Shanni will take good care of you.'

Then Mary and Shanni both beamed.

What was a man to do? ‘I'm being railroaded,' he said weakly.

‘Of course,' Mary agreed. ‘It's what the McDonald girls
are good at. We've been trained from birth by a very railroading mama. And grandma. And great-grandma come to that. Shanni, make him take his tie off.'

‘Take your tie off,' Shanni said. ‘You can't eat fish and chips on the beach when you're wearing a designer shoelace.'

‘I'm not…' He rose and backed off.

‘Yes, you are,' Mary said, and she put her hands behind him and shoved him toward the door. ‘Know when you're beaten, Your Worship. Out you go and don't come back before three. That's an order.'

He stood on the pavement and couldn't think of a single thing to say. Shanni was grinning like a Cheshire cat and, beside her, Harry was simply looking. And looking and looking, as if he couldn't get enough of him.

‘Shanni…' He was starting to sound inane. He was starting to
feel
inane!

‘I've ordered fish and chips,' she said, ignoring him. ‘We're collecting them down at the wharf in five minutes.'

‘What if I don't want to come?' He sounded pathetic!

‘Of course you want to come,' she said kindly. ‘You just don't think you do. Harry and I are here to change your mind. Shall we take your car—or walk?'

‘I don't…'

‘Don't want to drive? Okay.' She beamed. ‘It's not far. Harry doesn't like cars and he's been practising with the new heel on his cast like anything. And please, take your tie off.'

‘No.'

‘You look silly with it on.' She twinkled up at him in the sunlight. ‘But it's the same one you were wearing when we first saw you. Don't you have a change of clothes?'

‘I just brought the one suit. I'm heading back to Melbourne at the weekend.' He'd go nuts if he couldn't.

‘Now that's a waste of a weekend if ever I heard one,' she said. ‘Spending it in the city changing designer ties!'

And she smiled straight at him—and, despite himself, he was forced to smile right back. Unbelievable! And then he found himself walking at her side down toward the harbour. Harry clumped on bravely on her other side, clutching her hand and occasionally venturing a peep at him around the soft folds of her dress.

‘Do you never go to Melbourne?' Nick asked, trying to think of something to say to stop him sounding even more pathetic. As a lawyer and magistrate he was used to facing the world on his terms. It wasn't often the world had him as off balance as this.

‘I did my training there,' she told him. ‘But I hated it. I came back here every weekend to get my fix of sea air and laid-back country lifestyle.'

‘So you admit you need your fix of sea air. Well, I need my fix of city. We're equally addicted, Miss McDonald.'

‘We are indeed,' she agreed equably. ‘Equally nuts, but if we're comparing the sea to the city I know which I'd rather. What do you think, Harry?' She tugged the little boy forward, scooped him up and placed him so he was between the two of them. ‘Do you think we're nuts?'

Harry considered. ‘No,' he said at last, seriously, and Shanni chuckled her delight. She really did have the loveliest chuckle.

‘You're wonderful, Harry,' she told him. Then she looked down at him. He was walking bravely but the cast must be a pain. ‘Do you want Nick to carry you?'

‘No.'

That was definite enough, Shanni considered. ‘Okay. What about playing One, Two, Three, Jump?'

Harry didn't know what she meant. His small face stared up at his kindergarten teacher in mute enquiry.

‘We need to teach him,' she told Nick, but Nick shook his head, as in the dark as Harry.

‘Sorry.'

‘Sorry, what?' She stared at him.

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

That stopped her dead. She whirled to face them, staring from Nick down to Harry and back to Nick again. ‘You mean…you
both
don't know One, Two, Three, Jump?'

‘Enlighten our ignorance,' Nick said dryly, knowing she was about to do just that.

But she gave him a strange look—reassessing. It was an odd sideways look, and it left Nick feeling disturbed. As if she was probing where he didn't want to be probed.

‘It's very simple,' she said at last, falling in again beside them, but still with that disturbed look on her face. They'd left the single line of shops in the main street behind and were walking down the hill to where the boats were tied up in the harbour below. ‘One, Two, Three, Jump requires two adults and one child. We have all the prerequisites right here. Nick, take Harry's hand.'

‘But…'

‘You quibble, we can't play,' she said direfully. ‘No quibbling. Take Harry's hand.'

There was nothing for it. Nick put his hand down and took Harry's fingers in his. Harry looked high up into his face, and then stared intently at their linking—his tiny hand in Nick's large one. Then, very slowly, Harry smiled. He turned and headed on down the hill between his two anchors, stumping gamely on his cast, heading into the wind. As if he'd just had a win of gargantuan proportions.

‘Now we're ready,' Shanni announced, and if Nick thought he saw a glimmer of a tear on her eyelashes then surely he was imagining it. She swung Harry's arm. ‘One…two…three…!' And before he realised what he was
doing, Nick was swinging Harry's little body out before him.

‘Jump!'

The tiny boy flew high, held safely between them and, when Harry landed, the look on his face of absolute incredulity that anything like this could be happening to him made Nick falter.

Damn, he might be sure there were tears on Shanni's eyelashes, but what the heck was the lump doing in
his
throat?

There was nothing for it now but to do it all over again. They One, Two, Three, Jumped all the way to the fish shop, and then Nick held the fish-and-chip parcel in one hand and Shanni carried the drinks in another so they could keep on One, Two, Three, Jumping all the way to the beach.

And finally Nick found himself sitting on the sand by the sea, fish and chips spread out before him, and he had absolutely no idea in the world how he'd come to be there.

T
O HIS
surprise, they ate in silence.

Nick was no longer sure what he expected of this girl, but silence surely wasn't it. She'd chatted and laughed all the way to the beach, but now, sitting on the sand with Harry on her knee and a spread of fish and chips beside her, she had subsided into a silence that Nick found almost disconcerting.

Not that he didn't welcome it. He needed time to get his breath back.

So he ate the fillets of fish that must surely have only been caught that morning, and he crunched on the golden chips and he absorbed the silence. It was peaceful. It was right, but it was…strange.

As were the sensations. The sand was sun-warmed and soft, and the wind was blowing gently in across the rolling waves. The beach was pristine. There were no footsteps for miles—no one had been on this beach since high tide. The town was clustered round a horseshoe bay—the Bay Beach the town was named after—but Shanni had led them down the track to the back beach, which was the beach the tourists didn't use. Miles wide, with golden sand stretching away into the distance, there were ancient Norfolk pines at its higher reaches casting sentinels of shade across the sand-hills. There was nothing else.

They might as well be the first man and first woman and first child ever to sit on this beach, and, with the silence, it was weird.

When had he last sat on a deserted beach like this?

Never, he thought, and the knowledge was suddenly
bleak. He was a child of the city, who'd never had parents to take him anywhere.

He was like Harry.

No!

He wasn't going to think like that, he decided harshly, because that was the way of attachment. That was what this girl wanted, he knew. This outing was planned with one thing in mind—to establish a link between Nick and the little boy she was holding.

‘Finished your chips?' She was smiling at him, still with that strange look in her eyes that said she was searching for something deeper than an answer about the chips. What was she seeing? He didn't want to know.

‘Yes. Thank you.' They'd bought far too many.

Shall I feed them to the seagulls?' Harry asked, and Shanni nodded her agreement.

‘That's a fine idea. Go right ahead.'

Okay, but he wasn't feeding them where he sat. This was a serious business. Carefully Harry wrapped up his pile of cooling chips, pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and stumped down to the water's edge. Then he laid the parcel on the wet sand, just as carefully unwrapped it and started tossing chips one at a time skyward but back toward the adults.

The gulls screamed in from everywhere, forming a cacophony of sound and movement between adults and child. A barrier… It was as if that was what Harry had meant to happen.

And for a long moment Nick watched, his heart doing all sorts of strange wrenching. Remembering just how hard his lessons of solitude had been to learn…

‘They're planning on doing psychological assessment on him,' Shanni said conversationally, and Nick somehow hauled himself back to the present.

Psychological assessment… ‘Because of the hostage thing?'

‘No.' She shook her head. ‘Because of before. And how he is now.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘This is as good as it gets,' she said sadly. ‘He's as happy as he can be right now. I'm trying so hard, and so is Wendy, the head of his children's home. But he's so withdrawn. Around most people he dives for cover, or, if they come close, he screams blue murder. Screams and screams and screams. Wendy says he has night terrors and he's keeping every child in the home awake half the night.'

‘So?'

‘So if we don't get through to him then he'll be placed in a psychiatric institution. Wendy can't cope—and who can blame her? She's running a group home for children at risk and she has more than Harry to care for. They've tried foster homes but he doesn't last more than a night. Adoption's out of the question like he is now. We
must
get through to him.'

We…

‘You mean…' Nick stirred a whirl of sand under his fingers. ‘You mean
you
. And Wendy.'

She flicked a glance at him. ‘Of course.' She shrugged. ‘I mean me and Wendy.'

‘If you don't mind me saying this,' he said softly, ‘I don't see any professional detachment in this.'

‘Professional detachment?'

‘Surely your role of kindergarten teacher doesn't include mental health therapy for your students.'

Silence.

‘He's not your responsibility,' Nick went on. There was no easy way to say this but it must be said. ‘If Harry needs professional help, then surely a psychiatric institution is the place where he'll get it.'

‘He needs to be loved.'

‘Then he needs to be cured and then adopted.'

‘Oh, sure,' she said, jeering. ‘Cured and then adopted. But it's a Catch 22 situation, isn't it, Mr Daniels? He can't be adopted until he's cured and he can't be cured until he's adopted.'

‘That sounds clever.'

‘It's not.' She got up, her colour heightened so her cheeks were turning to rose, and there was anger building. Her eyes flashed fire and…contempt? ‘Of course it's not simple, either,' she flashed at him. ‘But I've no intention of talking smart or simple theories. I'm talking about a little boy's life. If I could, then I'd take him home with me. Maybe I'd have a chance to make a difference, but he doesn't want a woman. He needs a man to attach to. Everyone says that.'

‘This is ridiculous. It's not your job to worry about it.'

‘Of course it's not my job. It's no one's job, but at least I try. At least I care. Not like some people who say they live on stupid mountains!'

‘I might as well do,' he snapped, stung. He rose to face her, fire meeting fire. Her anger was palpable—and so was his. How dared she throw this at him!

‘Meaning?'

‘Meaning, no, of course I don't want to get involved,' he threw back at her. ‘Because what good would it do? You think I should try to form an attachment and then move away? You know as well as I do that it'd make everything worse.'

‘Nick, you could do a lot of good in two years,' she said, softening as if there really was a chance she could persuade him.

‘You're kidding.'

‘No, you could,' she said urgently. ‘Mary says you're bored with work already. The orphanage system runs a big-
brother scheme. Just picking a child up from individual homes, taking him out, doing this sort of thing. Mucking around in the sun. Being a friend.'

‘I wouldn't know the first thing about being a friend to a three-year-old.'

‘I'll teach you,' she said. ‘Wendy and I both think he's desperate for male contact. He and his dad were so close, and any female contact he had was appalling. He needs to bond with a male.'

‘You
have
to be kidding!' He was facing her square on, and he couldn't believe this was happening. She was almost pleading—but not quite. Her eyes defied him to do this thing. They told him that this was his duty as another human—or the sort of human with any decency at all.

The sort with any love…

But any love had been kicked out of Nick Daniels a long time ago. He stared down into her blazing eyes and the feeling that grew in his heart was leaden and grey. What she was asking was impossible.

‘No,' he said flatly, and took a step back. ‘You don't know what you're asking.'

She opened her mouth to retort—and then shut it again. Once again there was that look—the look that said she saw further than words. And something changed. In that instant, anger moved to concern.

‘What's happened to you, Nick?' she said softly, almost whispering into the soft wind. ‘What's put you on top of that mountain?'

‘I don't…'

‘You don't want to talk about it. I can see that.' She smiled suddenly, tension dissolving as if it had never been. She even managed a wavering smile. ‘Hmm. The plot thickens.'

‘The plot…'

‘Why you won't take your stupid tie off and you keep
combing your hair so you look like a city lawyer—even when it's totally inappropriate. What harm's a bit of ruffled hair? You might look like a sleek city lawyer in the city, but here your image just makes you look like Mafioso. And you don't know One, Two, Three, Jump…'

‘Shanni…'

‘Yes?' Amazingly there was a twinkle dancing back into her eyes.

‘Butt out.'

‘Nope.' She grinned. ‘It's not my style. I'll back off, though,' she said equably. ‘I can see a bit clearer what I'm fighting now. So I'll back off. But butt out? Never!'

There was still time left before three. Nick's idea of backing off was to retire quietly to his chambers. Shanni's idea of backing off was to head to the playground.

It was two against one and the outcome was never in doubt.

‘I would like to go on the roundabout,' Harry said wistfully, looking at a platform mounted on springs, with four seats made to look like bucking horses. The idea was to sit on a horse and sway as you spun. The sight made Nick's stomach churn, especially after all those chips…

‘That's another fine idea,' Shanni said roundly, fixing Nick with a look that defied him to refuse the child. ‘Hop right up.'

But suddenly Harry wasn't so sure.

‘It's high.'

‘Nick will help you on—won't you, Nick?'

Oh, of course! He was getting almost past argument. So he hopped up onto the platform and lifted Harry onto a horse—and then, before he knew what she was about, the platform started to spin. Shanni, devilment in her eyes, had started to push.

‘Hey…' He clutched the handle-cum-bridle, his hands over Harry's small ones, and held on for dear life. ‘Stop!'

‘It's okay, Nick! I can spin you both.' She was using both hands, running, shoving the platform around into free whirl. Her hair was flying, there was mischief sparking in her eyes and she was laughing up at both of them. ‘Hold on, Harry!'

Hold on, Harry? What about
him
? ‘Shanni, let me off.'

‘You won't fall if you hold on,' Harry said kindly. And then, as the platform sped up, he threw back his head and smiled shyly up at Nick. ‘This is fun!'

Fun!

But Harry's smile was infectious—and so was the way Shanni was laughing at them as she spun them around and around and around. He was way out of control and this woman had him so mesmerised there wasn't a thing he could do about it. ‘I've been set up,' he managed weakly. ‘You machiavellian…'

‘Drat, you've found my true nature.' She chortled and ran on. ‘There's nothing for it but to spin you faster. And faster and faster and faster…'

She did just that. Nick held on, standing above Harry and, whether he realised it or not, he was playing the protector. Because Harry was holding on as if his life depended on it, he was spinning and spinning, but
his
Nick was right above him and he knew his Nick wouldn't let him fall.

And suddenly it was…magic? The sun shone warmly down on their heads. The waves washed in and out on the beach below them. They spun and they spun, and Shanni pushed and ran and pushed and smiled…and watched both these males.

And she wondered…

‘Shanni!'

It couldn't last. Fifteen minutes pushing was surely enough for any child—and Nick was all set to lose his chips!—but somehow he'd quelled his protests and it wasn't Harry who stopped them. The yell came from the
road, and Nick looked over to find Shanni's John heading straight for them.

Good old dependable John, Nick thought wryly, watching him hurrying across the sand-hills as they spun. The look on his face said he was here to save his Shanni from any danger. But from which of them? From the psychotic three-year-old or the slick city lawyer?

John must have decided it was fate worse than death for Shanni to be stuck with such a combination, Nick thought humourlessly. Little did John know his beloved had engineered the whole thing—including stranding him on this devilish platform. It was Nick who needed saving!

But John only had eyes for Shanni. No matter. John was welcome to save Shanni all he liked, Nick decided, but then he felt bitterness behind the thought—and the sensation jolted him.

What on earth did he have to be bitter about? he demanded incredulously of himself. This girl was nothing to do with him, and neither was the man she intended to marry.

‘Shanni…love…'

The roundabout slowed as Shanni's attention was distracted. Thank heaven… Nick abandoned his horse, staggered off, lurched as his feet hit solid earth and then tried to stop his world from falling right over.

Good grief… And Harry was looking at him as if he was wondering why Nick had climbed off!

‘John.' Shanni had smiled a welcome as John strode across the sand-hills, but Nick heard a note of wariness enter her voice. As if she wasn't sure what to expect…

‘Mary told me you'd be here.' John was out of breath, as though he'd been hurrying for much longer than the time it had taken to stride across the sand-hills. He sounded aggrieved. ‘I thought you were checking bathroom tiles on your afternoon off.'

‘Nope.' Shanni shrugged and kept her smile fixed. ‘You told me I should check tiles, but I don't see the point when we haven't decided on a house plan.' She smiled placatingly and then tried to extend the conversation. ‘John, you remember Nick?'

‘Of course I remember Nick,' John said grumpily, digging his hands deep in his pockets. He flicked an acknowledging nod at the staggering Nick and went straight back to his grievance. Which was just as well, because Nick was in no state to greet him. ‘So why weren't you at the tile place? I decided to leave the hay and come in and meet you.'