Page 53 of Lime Tree Hill

His beautiful bride.

Minutes later, as he was about to pack a bag to make the long drive to Auckland himself, she phoned back.

“Sorry to bother you again, but I forgot something.” She didn’t wait for a reply. “The carpet cleaner’s coming tomorrow. Can you open the house for him?”

“I was there just before. Everything’s packed. How did you get it all done by yourself? I told you I’d help.”

“Valentina helped me.” She sounded exhausted, her voice soft and laced with a quiver. “Anyway, it’s all set now apart from the carpet. The window cleaner came today.”

“Do you want me to drive up?”

“Dad can’t have any visitors at this stage.”

“It was more to support you.”

Silence filled the space where words should have been. “There’s no need,” she eventually said, then went quiet again. “But thanks,” she added as a polite gesture.

“Well, can I do any unpacking at your parents?”

“No. Everything’s ready for their return. But that may be weeks away now.”

Thoughts of Tayla consumed Mitch every day. He called her cell phone most mornings, but she seldom answered. Every night, he’d receive a brief text of a few generic words such asDad’s stableorDad’s had a reasonable day.His attempts to engage her in text conversation mostly went unanswered.

He ate alone, struggled to concentrate, and woke during the night, wondering how she was coping. In the evenings, after a nondescript dinner, he’d sit in front of the TV, staring blankly at the screen as he waited for her daily text update. With close friends and a supportive family, Mitch was unfamiliar with this state of loneliness. Now he struggled to comprehend the emptiness eating him up inside.

As he readied for bed the following Friday, he picked up the phone and called her again. He wanted to hear her voice, to reassure her everything would be okay. But what could he say that didn’t sound trite? Barry might be out of immediate danger, but he knew the risks as well as she did.

“Hi, it’s Tayla Whitman. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“Hey. Just checking in. Call me.”

Mitch woke with a start several hours later. Fumbling with the lamp switch, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand with his other hand and hit answer. “Tayla?”

“Mitch, it’s Ella.”

He sat up, leaned back on the headboard and checked the time.Shit.

“Mitch, are you there?”

“Ella? It’s two in the morning. Where are you?”

“Downstairs.”

The following day, Mitch sat at his desk with his head in his hands, exhausted after talking to Ella half the night. She and Chris were having problems again, and while he knew not to get involved, he felt sorry for her. She’d asked for a brandy to calm her nerves, but the more she topped up her glass, the more suggestive she’d become. Just before dawn, he’d left her to sleep it off on the sofa and headed back to bed. When he walked into the living area for breakfast a few hours later, she’d gone.

Now Tayla was the only woman on his mind. He’d tried Ruby’s landline earlier, but an answerphone kicked in after eight lonely rings.

“Are you in the office, boss?” Ned popped his head around the door. “Crikey. You look like you’ve been up all night. Missing the wee wifey, are we?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“She’s a cute little bundle.” Ned thought for a moment and smiled, showing a neat row of false white teeth. “A kind soul, but troubled.”

Mitch nodded at Ned’s perception. “Yeah, it’s not an easy time for her. Let’s hope Barry recovers, and they can move forward with their retirement.”

“You did well there, boss. Don’t blow it, eh?”

Mitch laughed at the older man and shook his head. “What are you, a freakin’ mind reader or something?”

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