sort of commitment was that? he thought, trying to figure out how he could find time to take the ferry to Auckland and interview them.
Maybe Ginny could help.
Maybe he couldn’t ask her.
A couple of days after their dinner, she booked Button into the clinic, brought her in and together he and Ginny gave the little girl a complete medical assessment. That was weird, a mixture of personal and medical. It made him feel...
Like he didn’t want to feel.
‘You haven’t changed your mind?’ he asked, labelling blood samples to send to the mainland for path. testing. He was...they both were...a bit concerned about Button’s heart. Heart conditions were common in Down’s kids. He thought he could hear a murmur. There was nothing about a murmur in her medical records but Ginny thought she could hear one, too.
‘Button needs me,’ she said simply, and it was true, but it worked both ways, he thought. He could see how much she cared for the little girl already.
He looked at them both, Button playing happily with Shuffles, calmly accepting his ministrations, seemingly unperturbed that her life had been turned upside down—and he looked at Ginny’s pale, strained face.
‘Maybe you need Button more than she needs you,’ he said gently.
‘No.’
‘I won’t go there, then,’ he said equitably, and lifted Button from the examination couch and popped her on the floor. Ginny took her hand and backed away—almost as if she was afraid of him.
‘I’ll let you know when the results come through,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
‘Ginny...’
‘Thank you,’ she said again, and it was like a shield. Patient thanking doctor.
Nothing personal at all.
* * *
Once in the car she could block out the personal. Once out of sight of Ben.
She kind of liked taking Button home. No, more than liked. She was trying to hold back, aware at any minute that Veronica or Veronica’s husband could change their mind and want her again, but Button was a little girl who was easy to love, and she found her heart twisting at the thought of her being discarded.
She might even fight for her, she thought. What rights did a stepmother have?
Maybe none, she thought, but there was a real possibility she’d be taking care of Button for life—and right now Button was filling a void. Button needed her and she intended to do the best job she could.
Which meant she was justified in refusing to help Ben, she decided, and squashed guilt to the back of her mind. One of her girlfriends had once told her, ‘Don’t have kids, Ginny. The moment you do, every single thing is your fault. No matter what you do, you feel guilty.’
So she was just like other mothers, she decided, and thought she should ring Ben up and tell him.
Or not.
Focus on Button. And the vineyard? She wasn’t actually very good at growing grapes. She should find someone to replace Henry. She didn’t actually have a clue what she was doing.
But, then, so what if she missed a harvest? she decided. The world had enough wine and she didn’t need the money. Henry popped in to see her and worried about it on her behalf, but she calmed him.
‘Next year, when I’m more organised, I’ll hire staff and do it properly. I should have done it this year but neither of us was organised. And you’re not well. Thank you for dropping by, but I’ll manage. Did Ben...? Did Dr McMahon give you something that’ll help?’
‘He wants me to go to the mainland and have a gas-gastroscopy or something. Damned fool idea. You want me to teach you about—?’
‘No,’ she said gently, thinking of the old man’s grey face. ‘Let’s put this year’s harvest behind us and move on next year.’
That was a great idea, she decided. She’d put the whole of the last year aside. She’d refuse to be haunted by shadows of the past.
She and Button could make themselves a life here. She watched Button water her beloved tomatoes—watering was Button’s principal pleasure—and thought...she could
Maybe Ginny could help.
Maybe he couldn’t ask her.
A couple of days after their dinner, she booked Button into the clinic, brought her in and together he and Ginny gave the little girl a complete medical assessment. That was weird, a mixture of personal and medical. It made him feel...
Like he didn’t want to feel.
‘You haven’t changed your mind?’ he asked, labelling blood samples to send to the mainland for path. testing. He was...they both were...a bit concerned about Button’s heart. Heart conditions were common in Down’s kids. He thought he could hear a murmur. There was nothing about a murmur in her medical records but Ginny thought she could hear one, too.
‘Button needs me,’ she said simply, and it was true, but it worked both ways, he thought. He could see how much she cared for the little girl already.
He looked at them both, Button playing happily with Shuffles, calmly accepting his ministrations, seemingly unperturbed that her life had been turned upside down—and he looked at Ginny’s pale, strained face.
‘Maybe you need Button more than she needs you,’ he said gently.
‘No.’
‘I won’t go there, then,’ he said equitably, and lifted Button from the examination couch and popped her on the floor. Ginny took her hand and backed away—almost as if she was afraid of him.
‘I’ll let you know when the results come through,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
‘Ginny...’
‘Thank you,’ she said again, and it was like a shield. Patient thanking doctor.
Nothing personal at all.
* * *
Once in the car she could block out the personal. Once out of sight of Ben.
She kind of liked taking Button home. No, more than liked. She was trying to hold back, aware at any minute that Veronica or Veronica’s husband could change their mind and want her again, but Button was a little girl who was easy to love, and she found her heart twisting at the thought of her being discarded.
She might even fight for her, she thought. What rights did a stepmother have?
Maybe none, she thought, but there was a real possibility she’d be taking care of Button for life—and right now Button was filling a void. Button needed her and she intended to do the best job she could.
Which meant she was justified in refusing to help Ben, she decided, and squashed guilt to the back of her mind. One of her girlfriends had once told her, ‘Don’t have kids, Ginny. The moment you do, every single thing is your fault. No matter what you do, you feel guilty.’
So she was just like other mothers, she decided, and thought she should ring Ben up and tell him.
Or not.
Focus on Button. And the vineyard? She wasn’t actually very good at growing grapes. She should find someone to replace Henry. She didn’t actually have a clue what she was doing.
But, then, so what if she missed a harvest? she decided. The world had enough wine and she didn’t need the money. Henry popped in to see her and worried about it on her behalf, but she calmed him.
‘Next year, when I’m more organised, I’ll hire staff and do it properly. I should have done it this year but neither of us was organised. And you’re not well. Thank you for dropping by, but I’ll manage. Did Ben...? Did Dr McMahon give you something that’ll help?’
‘He wants me to go to the mainland and have a gas-gastroscopy or something. Damned fool idea. You want me to teach you about—?’
‘No,’ she said gently, thinking of the old man’s grey face. ‘Let’s put this year’s harvest behind us and move on next year.’
That was a great idea, she decided. She’d put the whole of the last year aside. She’d refuse to be haunted by shadows of the past.
She and Button could make themselves a life here. She watched Button water her beloved tomatoes—watering was Button’s principal pleasure—and thought...she could
Similar Books
