Page 75 of Outback Secrets
‘Geez, you’ve done a very good job, haven’t you, sweetheart? This one’s twice as big as the other and there’s already bruising.’
Henri glared at her—did she think that was helping?—and reached for the first-aid kit now on the ground between them.
Fiona snatched it back. ‘I’ll clean you up. Just try and relax.’
Relax?Henri snorted. Her ankle still throbbing, she barely noticed the sting as her mum wiped the dirt from her grazes.
Callum’s ute appeared in a cloud of dust just as they were finishing the first aid.
‘Home for a couple of weeks,’ he shouted as he ran over, ‘and already you’re causing drama.’
She didn’t even have the energy to glare at him, but she was grateful for his strength as he lifted her into his arms, carried her over to the four-wheel drive and deposited her in the passenger seat.
Callum looked to their mother. ‘Will you be all right on your own with her? I was helping Hannah fix the chook pen, but I can call and tell her we’ll have to finish later.’
‘No,’ Henri told him. ‘We’ll be fine. I’m sure Mum can go in and borrow a wheelchair or something when we arrive.’
‘Okay then. Take care, little sis,’ he said as he closed the car door.
Although Fiona was a very cautious driver, the gravel track out to the road made the beginning of the journey bumpy and with every jerk of the vehicle, Henri’s ankle pulsed in pain. The journey to Geraldton seemed to take twice as long as usual.
When they arrived, Fiona parked right out front and hurried inside. She returned five minutes later with a wheelchair.
‘You’re not a very good patient, are you, love,’ she tsked as she assisted her out of the car and into the chair, Henri muttering and cursing the whole time.
‘How would you like it if you broke your ankle?’ she snapped back.
Fiona looked suitably chastised. ‘Maybe it’s not as bad as you think?’
Oh Lord, how Henri prayed she was right. She hated feeling so helpless and the prospect of not working for however long it took to get back on her feet made her want to scream.
Once inside, she was triaged and then sent to sit in the waiting room with a whole bunch of other people. Glancing around, it looked as if she wasn’t the only one with possible breaks, but everyone else with a parent hanging around appeared to be a decade or two younger than her.
‘It’s a miracle you got to thirty without breaking anything,’ said Fiona, as if noticing the same thing. ‘Anyway, it looks like we might be here a while. Should I go get us some coffees? Maybe some chocolate?’
‘Good idea,’ said Henri, more because she felt stifled with her mum sitting beside her than that she actually felt like eating or drinking anything.
As Fiona went off to hunt for vending machines, Henri glanced up at the TV in the corner of the room. It was playing The Holiday. Even though rom-coms were not at all her thing, this happened to be one of her favourite Christmas movies, second only to Die Hard. After their debate the other night, Henri had to concede that Liam was right, not that she’d ever admit it to him.
She sighed at the recollection, not only of that particular conversation, but of the last few days—the many conversations they’d shared either on the beach during their surfing lessons, late at night when they were all alone and only yesterday during their magical trip to the Abrolhos. They hadn’t all been fun and flirtatious—their conversation the night they delivered Dolce’s rocking chair had been one of the most emotionally draining she’d ever had with anyone—but there’d not been a moment in his company that she hadn’t enjoyed.
And now she’d gone and stuffed it all up.
If she couldn’t even put pressure on her ankle, how the hell was she going to drive into town to see him? Never mind climb those stairs to his apartment or continue their surfing lessons. And if her ankle ached every time they’d gone over a pothole, how was she supposed to finish what they’d started in the kitchen? She’d need some bloody strong painkillers to forget the agony long enough to dance the horizontal mambo.
Argh!Maybe this was punishment for lying!
One thing was for sure, Eileen Brady would certainly think it her just deserts.