Authors: Eliza Redgold
He hit play.
‘That’s incredible!’ Dianella’s face lit up as they both watched the hologram of the singer perform to the cheers of the crowd. ‘The hologram looks exactly like her, and the audience really love it. My dad would have loved to see that.’
The wobble reverberated in her voice again.
Wade clicked off the video as it ended. ‘They’ve done a good job with that hologram. I watched some of her original videos from the 1980s to check it out.’
‘So that’s why you know her name.’ She flashed a cheeky grin. ‘You don’t look like a computer geek.’
He hoped that was a good thing. ‘3D is my area. Techies like me have been trying to create 3D software to make holograms for years. Actually, that’s what my company is all about.’
‘Have you done it? Created the software?’
Wade hesitated. It seemed unlucky to get ahead of himself. It was why he’d needed a holiday so much, some space and time to work out what he wanted to do, before taking the next big step.
‘You don’t have to tell me.’ She smiled that extraordinary sweet smile. ‘My magical fairy powers tell me you’ve done it.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ He wanted her to know. ‘We’re close to making a massive deal. A life-changing deal.’
‘Life-changing?’
Dianella’s mobile phone beeped.
He snagged a chip. ‘You’ve got a text. Grab it.’
Tugging it out of her pocket, she stared at the screen. ‘It’s Borrie. That’s weird. She hates texting.’
Wade watched her face change, her nose crease up in concern.
Dianella leapt up. ‘I have to get back to Go Native, right away.’
***
‘Are you going to be all right?’ Wade spun the steering wheel as he turned the SUV into the Go Native Nursery car park.
Dianella halted her fingers on the door handle, touched by his obvious concern. ‘I’ll be fine. I need to find out what’s happened. I’m sorry about cutting short our lunch.’
‘That’s okay. Bye, Dianella.’
‘Bye, Wade.’
Dianella tried to ignore the pang of regret that surged inside her as Wade drove away. She’d agreed to lunch with him in order to apologise for her behaviour the night before. It had been immature. Now, she’d probably never see him again. He hadn’t mentioned making another date.
Her stomach dived.
No time to dwell on that now. She raced across the car park. Why did Borrie want to see her so urgently? Come right away, the text had said.
The bell jangled as she pushed open the door to the nursery. Inside, the scent of Chanel No 5 filled the air.
A tall blonde woman in an aquamarine t-shirt and pristine white three-quarter pants stood by the counter. Gold jewellery set with turquoise clasped her neck and wrists. A diamond flashed as she pushed her streaked hair from her unlined forehead.
‘Mum,’ Dianella gasped. ‘What are you doing here? What’s wrong?’
‘Does there have to be something wrong for me to visit my daughter and my mother?’
Borrie snorted. Something appeared to be definitely wrong, judging by the way she furiously pushed watering cans about on a shelf. ‘Visiting Albany has never been a pleasure trip for you.’
Diana’s blue eyes narrowed. They were the same colour as Borrie’s but without the warmth. They appeared bluer, too, thanks to the cleverly applied liner and shadow. As usual, Dianella was struck by her beauty, her perfect grooming. She never appeared to age, though Borrie had a few theories about how that miracle was achieved.
‘Who was that man dropping you off?’ Diana demanded.
‘A friend.’ Her mother’s radar never stopped working. But Dianella wasn’t going to discuss Wade Hamilton. She’d ask a question of her own instead. ‘Where’s Gary?’
Her stepfather usually stuck to her mother’s side like glue.
Diana fiddled with her bangles. ‘He stayed on the Gold Coast.’
Borrie brandished a large tin watering can. ‘Sent you to do his dirty work, did he?’
‘Please. What’s going on?’ Dianella stared from her mother to her grandmother.
‘Your mum’s got news. Haven’t you?’
Dianella’s heart sank. From experience, she never knew her mother’s news to be of the brighten-your-day variety.
Borrie appeared calm but her hand had tightened on the handle of the watering can. ‘Tell your daughter what you told me.’
Diana’s lips pursed.
‘Tell her! Or shall I?’
Still no response.
Borrie slammed down the watering can. ‘Your mother is selling Go Native Wildflower Nursery.’
‘What?’ Dianella gasped. She clutched the edge of the shop counter.
‘It’s not my fault!’ Diana sounded about five years old.
‘How can it not be your fault, Diana?’ Hands on hips, Borrie confronted her daughter. ‘Are you ever going to stop blaming other people for your own decisions? If you’re selling it, then you’re selling it for a reason.’
‘Gary’s business is in trouble.’
‘I see. I’m surprised you’re standing by him. That’s not your way.’
Diana tossed her head. ‘It’s only a temporary glitch, he says. But we need an injection of cash.’
‘You can’t tighten your belt to get through these tough times, then?’ Borrie shook her head. ‘No. What am I saying? Of course you can’t. I forgot who I’m talking to for a moment.’
Somehow Dianella found her voice. She never managed to speak up for herself in her mum’s presence. ‘Mum. Is this true?’
‘I’m sorry.’ For a moment genuine contrition appeared in those heavily lashed green eyes. Then it vanished. ‘I’ve got no choice.’
‘It’s taken years to build this place up,’ Dianella protested to her own amazement. Borrie had lived there for decades, renting it at first, and Dianella lived there for most of her life too. The little weatherboard house wasn’t only a business, but also Borrie’s home.
‘This was a joint investment, Diana.’ Borrie’s whole body became taut. ‘We made a verbal agreement when you bought the land that I use my capital to develop the business, so our family was provided for. I’ve invested everything into it.’
‘You can get a bank loan,’ her daughter snapped. ‘I’ll help you find somewhere further out of town that you can afford; somewhere cheaper.’
‘Do you think you can find Borrie another garden?’ Dianella’s whole body shook. ‘One that she’s nurtured for years? One where she’s planted every tree, pruned every bush, watered every flower? One that she’s made into a work of art as well as a successful business? How are you going to get her another garden like that?’
‘Dianella! I can’t believe you’re speaking to me this way. I’m used to Borrie always having a gripe.’
Borrie grabbed her straw hat from the stand by the back door. ‘I can’t listen to any more of this. I’ve got watering to do.’
‘Avoiding me isn’t going to change anything!’ Diana called after her. Her bangles clanked as she spun around. ‘I can only stay in Albany for the weekend. I leave on Monday. I’ll talk to Borrie when she’s calmed down.’
‘Mum, please,’ Dianella begged. ‘Don’t do this. No one is going to give someone of Borrie’s age a bank loan. You must know that.’
‘I’ve got no choice.’ She clenched the white handbag with its gold chain strap under her arm. ‘Don’t make this difficult for me.’
The bell almost fell off as she slammed the front door.
Dianella raced to the back door and grabbed her cap from the hat stand. Through the glass she could see her grandmother watering the seedlings with a long hose, her straw hat askew.
Borrie turned.
Dianella gasped.
Borrie was crying! She’d never seen Borrie cry before, never seen the wrinkled apple cheeks slick with tears. Borrie never cried.
But tears were raining down her grandmother’s cheeks, as fast as the spray from the hose. As Dianella watched in horror, she lifted a shaky hand, and wiped them away.
Borrie had always been so strong, had never given in, even when she’d been widowed and had to build her life anew, and she’d taken Dianella into her home and heart without a word of censure or complaint.
Now, she risked losing her home.
Dianella’s eyes smarted.
Mum’s not going to do this
, she vowed.
She won’t take your home, Borrie.
***
Wade knocked on the screen door. From inside he could hear Dianella talking to someone. She appeared on the other side of the fly screen. Even through the mesh he could see that she seemed uptight, panicked.
‘Wade!’
‘I wanted to check in on you.’ He’d worried about her all afternoon. Even the whaling museum hadn’t distracted him. Blubber facts couldn’t hold his attention when he’d become addicted to orchid facts. ‘Is your grandmother okay?’
‘Yes, she’s fine.’ She hesitated, and then opened the screen door. ‘Come in.’
Wade glanced around the living area. White painted walls with tall ceilings and chintzy, comfortable chairs. Flower prints on the walls, healthy-leafed potted plants and vases full of blooms. It brimmed with life, but there wasn’t anyone else in the room. Who had she been talking to?
‘Borrie’s all right.’ Her voice sounded strained. ‘She’s gone for a walk on the beach. She says it’s the only place where she doesn’t need to prune anything. It’s what she does when she needs to relax.’
‘So she’s not ill.’
‘No, she’s fine physically. We had a … family emergency.’ She glanced away from him. On an antique desk by the window sat a laptop and monitor. A face with a strong resemblance to Dianella’s peered out from the screen, except the face was male. ‘Can you hold on for a moment? I’m online to Singapore. I need to say goodbye.’
‘Sure,’ he said easily.
She hurried to the desk and leaned towards the computer. He winced. It appeared even more ancient than the one she’d used in the town hall, to give her orchid lecture. But it wasn’t the moment to talk tech. By the set of her back he could discern her anxiety. He’d begun to be able to read Dianella Lee’s emotions like web-code.
‘Thanks for everything,’ she addressed the young man at the other end of the computer. ‘I’ve got to go now.’
‘No problem. Let me know the flight details, okay?’ a voice replied. ‘Take care of yourself.’
‘You too.’
The screen went black.
Dianella’s floral skirt flared as she turned. ‘That was my brother. Well, my half-brother, actually. He lives in Singapore.’
‘I didn’t realise you had siblings.’ They hadn’t got that far at lunch. He had two younger sisters himself. But something more pressing bothered him. Mentally he logged the information.
Flight details.
Dianella rubbed her eyes. They were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying, or trying not to. She appeared exhausted. He fought his instinct to pick her up and carry her to the sofa.
‘Come out for dinner with me,’ he said instead. He could bet she hadn’t eaten. ‘You didn’t finish your lunch.’
He’d been disappointed, but more concerned about her.
She hesitated. ‘I’m really sorry, I can’t do dinner, but I’m glad I’ve had a chance to see you again. I wanted to apologise about last night.’
He held up his hands. ‘No apologies needed. Not for that kiss.’
Colour stained her cheeks. He’d made her blush even with the strain still on her face.
‘If you really want to apologise let me take you out to dinner,’ he said persuasively, turning on his best All-American charm.
Again she hesitated, before she shook her head. It drooped like a flower on a stem.
Vulnerable.
Dianella Lee was vulnerable at that moment even if most of the time she was an avenging fairy, out to save the wild flowers.
Wade couldn’t stand it any longer. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. The fragility of those shoulders, trying so hard to hold strong. Like fairy wings.
‘I don’t know what’s going on in your life right now, Dianella Lee, but I want to,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘We’ve made a deep connection. You feel it too. Can’t you trust me, even if I am a visitor?’
She yielded into his arms, but only for a moment.
Wade drew back. ‘Do you want me to go?’
Many species well known show slight differences of growth in different localities.
About Orchids: A Chat—Frederick Boyle, 1893
Dianella leaned back against the airplane seat.
‘Do you want me to go?’
Why hadn’t she answered Wade Hamilton with the truth?
‘We’ve made a deep connection. You feel it too.’
Of course she’d sensed the connection between them, the way they’d plugged into each other on a wavelength all of their own. So why hadn’t she told him she wanted him to stay, and keep holding her in that incredible, warm bear hug? Why had she rejected his offer of dinner, and sent him out the door? Why hadn’t she told him she wanted him to kiss her again?
Deep down, she knew why.
Scared
. So scared. Even with an instant connection like that, she refused to add any more long-distance relationships to her life. She had her rules, and she never broke them.
Better not to start now. She fought her own battles.
Then why did she feel so bad?
‘I think that’s my seat.’
Dianella jumped.
‘Wade! What are you doing on this plane?’
‘Stalking you.’ He gave his easy grin. ‘There’s only one flight today from Albany up to Perth. I’m not sure where you’re going after that. I’m going to have to tail you.’
‘Singapore,’ she managed to stammer. ‘I’m going to Singapore.’
‘Yeah, I guessed that might be your next stop. To see your brother, right?’
Speechless, she nodded.
‘I’ll buy a ticket to Singapore in Perth.’
‘But you can’t …’
‘Can’t buy an airplane ticket and get straight on the plane? Sure you can. It happens all the time in the movies.’
‘No, I mean you …’
‘Can’t come to Singapore? Wrong again. They let Americans onto the island of Singapore. I think they even like them.’
‘But—’
Wade sat down on the seat next to her with a thump. ‘If you’re going to Singapore, I’m coming too. You’re not going on your own.’
The protective words wrapped her, warm as one of his bear hugs.
Tears smarted in her eyes.
He leaned over towards her seat, so that no one else could hear. ‘For the weekend, at least, don’t question what’s happening between us. Let me stay close to you. But if you tell me to go now, I’ll go. No pressure. Say stay, or go.’