She’d been a baby when she’d been sent to live with Mona. Six and terrified at being away from her parents, terrified about Daddy being in hospital with multiple symptoms and no diagnosis. Abandoned and lost. Nursing was supposed to be her permanent safe place. A community that would never evict her, never send her away, and where she wouldn’t find herself displaced on her return to her family after two years by two beautiful baby brothers.
“You’re an outstanding nurse,” Mona said, a grimace of pain twisting her mouth.
Instantly alert, Holly buried the doubts she’d been about to share. She propped another pillow behind Mona’s shoulders. “Tell me what you’re feeling. The truth.”
“Frustrated. Don’t fuss, darling.”
Holly settled beside her on the bed.
“Will you go back to nursing?”
“I’m working as a nurse for the next three nights.” Holly wished that didn’t place her beyond easy reach.
“They couldn’t get a replacement,” Mona guessed.
“Not without more notice. I was contracted to be their on-site manager. Their permission to operate is tied to specific conditions.” The festival organisers, like Holly, had run out of options. “They called every agency in the book. They’re short a medic for the night shifts. Unless I help, they’ll have to cancel. They’re facing a financial and public relations disaster and a bunch of disappointed fans.”
“Three nights at one festival”—Mona held up a hand for silence when Holly opened her mouth to protest—“or even a series of festivals doesn’t make you the nurse you were.”
“The registration board would disagree.” Now wasn’t the time to spill her misgivings, especially since Mona had never made her feel unwelcome. “Right now, you’re my top priority.”
Mona raised an eyebrow. “How did things end up with the luscious barista?”
“Exactly as I told you they would.” Holly had texted Mona descriptions of Pedro, the sound engineer at the previous festival, and the drummer at the gig before that. Mona had deplored her lack of interest. “I looked but didn’t touch.”
“A no-strings affair might be part of the cure,” Mona offered without shame.
“I don’t know myself anymore.” In her heart, Holly knew the reason she’d knocked back every casual offer of sex. Working out what to do with her life came first.
An image of Kit popped into her mind, tall, confident, striding through life as if he knew exactly who he was and where he was going. Propositioning her wasn’t on his list. Because she was Mona’s granddaughter? Because he disapproved of her? Or something deeper? He carried an aura of solitariness at odds with his connection to the kids. But they’d both stilled when he’d reached across her this morning; the awareness producing a hum as loud as the insects singing nearby. They’d drawn back.
“Forget fling then. A careful, caring affair with a stranger might help you find joy again.”
“A stranger might cement my cynicism.”
“What about a man who puts people before profit?” Mona said slyly.
“They don’t exist.” Holly kissed her grandmother on the forehead and thought of Kit a second time within a minute. Drat! Vulnerable children seemed to rate above ambition in his life. “And now I’m here, I get to do all the silly, girly things we do when we get together. Bake scones at midnight. Have picnics under a full moon. Share a bottle of wine on the swing-seat while solving the problems in our world.”
“It’s been a few years since we had the chance.” Mona leaned back against her pillows.
“On the list for when you come home. Then I need to finish my wandering and work out what I’ll do next. Now, I must leave you. Love you, Mona. Watch your temperature.”
“Drive safely, Holly Golightly.”
“If only I had the figure for that little black dress Audrey Hepburn wore.”
“It wouldn’t be suitable for driving Norman.” Mona blew her a kiss.
“Or life on the road!” Although Audrey Hepburn’s character, Holly Golightly, was a wanderer of sorts looking for something just out of reach. I’m terrified I’ll never find my place again.
The ringing doorbell sounded like Mona’s. Her grandmother favoured the deep, booming Westminster chimes as a fitting announcement of unknown guests. Friends usually came to the back door. Holly snuggled further under the fluffy doona.
The loud banging struck a discordant note, more like Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture with its volley of cannon fire and brass fanfare finale. She opened one eye. Someone was banging on the front door. She blinked and rolled onto her back. The ceiling rose above the light fitting came slowly into focus. She’d meticulously picked out the flowers and vines in fairy-floss-pink, sky-blue, and forest-green paint as an adolescent. She was in Mona’s house. She groaned and raised her wrist to eye level. Eight o’ clock—she’d been in bed three hours. The round trip to the concert had topped six hours. Combined with a twelve-hour shift, she’d managed about five hours sleep in the last twenty-four. And she had it all to do again for the next two nights.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and she sat bolt upright.
“Holly, are you there?” Kit didn’t sound like he’d accept no for an answer.
She rolled over, got entangled in the sheets, and while fighting to free herself, landed on the floor.
“Are you all right?”
“What do you think?” Holly scowled at him over her shoulder.
“You didn’t answer the door.”
A perfectly normal reaction for someone who didn’t want visitors, but the words and a suitable expletive stalled in her throat when she caught sight of the fairy peeping around him with wide eyes. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
“I’m sorry I—we—interrupted.” He glanced at the child whose hand was now fisted in his trousers, and with a visible effort, swallowed whatever he wanted to say.
Holly kicked her way free of the covering and scrambled to her feet. A shiver trembled through her when his gaze scanned her from head to toe. She resisted the urge to pat her hair into place. She’d gone to bed with it wet. Past experience told her the result would be ugly. Her singlet and drawstring pyjama pants covered all the strategic highlights, yet heat rose up her throat at his dispassionate appraisal of her and the tumbled bed. Don’t go there!
“Did you want something?” she asked.
“I’m taking the kids to the nursery,” he explained, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Like he’d had his virtuous eight hours sleep. “Our Friday excursion.”
“Sounds like a great idea.” On your way then, she added silently. She stared at him, hoping he’d get the idea.
“Sophie asked if you could come.” His dilemma was writ large on his face.
Looking at the silent child half-hiding behind him, Holly gulped down her refusal. “That’s a lovely invitation, Sophie. When do you need to leave?” She was rewarded with a tiny smile.
Kit grinned maliciously. “I can give you fifteen minutes.”
“It starts when you close the front door behind you.” Holly waved them away. He’d wanted her to say no because she was a hindrance, even if he was attracted to her. An unanticipated fascination with the potential to ambush them both. But his commitment to making Sophie whole had driven him here; driven him to open the door when Holly didn’t answer.