Ellie rushed, “none of this was your fault.” The last thing she needed was for Matilda, who had always been there for her no matter what, to feel guilty, as well. So many times she’d almost spilled her heart out to Mat, but she’d never quite been able to find the words. Mat loved and trusted her more than anyone, so Ellie had been scared. Scared that Mat would think of her differently if she knew. “I don’t want you to ever—”
Matilda held up her hand to silence Ellie. “I need to say this. The years passed and you made no mention of coming back. I meant to clean out your room, I really did, but you know what I’m like with my own clutter, I couldn’t bear to sort and make decisions about yours. I’m sorry, I should have gotten rid of that dress, but something I can’t really explain stopped me.”
“It’s okay.” Ellie’s reply was a mere whisper. All choked up, she thought about the crumpled dress in the bottom of the wardrobe. What the hell should she do with it? “I understand,” she continued, “but I want you to know that none of what happened is your fault. If anyone besides me is to blame—for leaving, for staying away all these years—it’s my despicable excuse for a mother.”
“Your mother?” Matilda looked baffled. “I didn’t know you two were in touch. I thought the last time you saw Rhiannon was in Perth, just before your...”
Ellie knew she was about to say wedding. She shook her head and set her friend straight. “She never turned up.”
Matilda’s mouth dropped open like a sideshow clown and her eyes grew cold. “But I don’t understand. You told me you spent the weekend in the city together, that she apologized profusely about not being able to make it to your wedding. I wanted to hunt her down, give her what for about missing the most important day of your life.”
“All lies,” Ellie admitted. “I guess I felt like an idiot for thinking she’d care enough to meet up with me, and I wanted you all to think that she did. When she didn’t show, I waited in the bar for five hours, treating myself to cocktails to cheer up. I got quite drunk.” That was a massive understatement.
In the next hour or so, Ellie spilled the truth about what had happened that awful weekend in Perth. She left nothing out. She cried a lot. And so did Matilda, who cursed herself for not being there for Ellie when she’d needed her support. But not once did Matilda make her feel any less of a person for her mistakes. She didn’t pass judgment or even make many comments until the end, when Ellie said, “So you see how I couldn’t tell Flynn? He’d have hated me.”
Matilda frowned slightly. “I don’t see anything of the sort. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s to never presume what another person thinks, or how they’ll react in a certain situation.”
“I suppose.” But the truth was, Ellie couldn’t have coped with seeing the hurt and disappointment in Flynn’s eyes if she had stayed to face her problems.
“Personally,” Mat said, “and this is just my opinion, because as I said, I don’t know the inside of Flynn’s head, but I think he would rather have had you—and whatever came with that—than lose you. He made some bad choices himself after you left.”
Ellie’s head shot up from where it had been staring down into her lap and a fist full of tissues. “What kind of bad choices?”
* * *
ELLIE WOKE ON Monday morning feeling utterly drained. The past couple of days had been exhausting—physically, mentally and emotionally. And she’d be a fool to think the worst was over.
Her guilt had trebled when she heard that for two years after she left, Flynn had gone on a wild bender, becoming best friends with bottles of Jim Beam. And then his dad, Cyril, had been killed in a freak accident on the farm. She could only imagine the pain the Quartermaines would have felt at that deep loss. Flynn and Cyril had disagreed about some aspects of running the farm, and Cyril had been reluctant to take on a few of Flynn’s ideas, but mostly, father and son had been great mates. In a somewhat bittersweet turnaround, though, it was his father’s death that pulled Flynn out of his self-destructive spiral. Where many turn to alcohol in times of mourning, Cyril’s passing shook Flynn enough that he went completely dry. Ellie felt so relieved when Matilda told her that Flynn had reformed, but she couldn’t ignore the painful truth. If she hadn’t run away, he’d never have gone there in the first place.
Matilda believed the only way for Ellie to truly move on was for her to sit down with Flynn and tell him everything. She shuddered at the thought. Quite aside from the fact that pinning Flynn down would prove a mammoth task, she was scared that in telling him the truth, she risked bringing back hurtful memories for him. Sure, it might get some of the heaviness off her chest, but she couldn’t jeopardize his well-being simply to clear her conscience.
Bottom line was, she’d never stopped loving him. Seeing him yesterday had made that clear. And what was that old saying? If you loved something you let it go? She reckoned that included not rehashing the painful past.
Her decision made, she climbed out of bed, washed and dressed quickly, and then set to some housework. Matilda rose too and grumbled about being constrained by her cast, so Ellie gave her the important job of drafting the shopping list.
“Leave nothing you desire off that list,” Ellie instructed. “I do not want to be traipsing down to the Co-op every day for something we’ve forgotten.”
Just when Ellie thought the house was sparkling so much she couldn’t put off the shopping expedition any longer, the doorbell—a yodeling one that Matilda bought on a trip to Austria—sang out.
“That’ll be my friend Joyce,” Matilda announced, a beaming smile filling her face. “She’s going to be your chaperone.”
“Chaperone?” Ellie raised a brow while racking her brain for memories of Joyce.
“You haven’t met,” said Matilda, reading her mind. “She and her hubby, Howard, moved here three years ago when they bought the caravan park. Howard died last year but Joyce is a hoot, you’ll love her.”
Joyce let herself in. “Everyone adores me.”
Ellie looked at the fire-engine redhead. Her first thought was that she’d never seen a female built in quite such a...strong way. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect bodyguard. She smiled. “Well, shopping with me will soon change that. Nobody adores me.”
Joyce hooted with laughter. “I love her already.”
After ensuring Mat had everything within arm’s reach, Joyce and Ellie set off in the Premier.
“Mat phoned me last night,” Joyce announced as she clicked in her seat belt. “She didn’t tell me why you left the Quartermaine boy at the altar, but she said you have your reasons. I want you to know Mat’s word is good enough for me.”
Ellie’s mood plummeted at the idea that Matilda might have told Joyce more, and nausea set in at the thought of Joyce flapping her mouth about town, of Flynn hearing it all on the grapevine. But she quickly relaxed, knowing her godmother would never break her confidence.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Mat’s had a lot on her plate recently. She’s so happy you’re here but doesn’t want you being crucified just because she needs you. She wanted someone else in your corner.” Joyce’s voice was serious in a way Ellie hadn’t thought possible, judging by her brassy manner back at the cottage. “And I want you to know, I’m in your corner.”
An alien lump formed in Ellie’s throat. She couldn’t quite get another thanks past it.
“We all make mistakes,” continued Joyce, “and I don’t believe in beating oneself up about them. But that’s your business. If you want to talk, I won’t tell a soul your secret, but neither will I press you about it. I just want you to know.”
“Okay. I appreciate that.” Ellie stared ahead at the road. She didn’t really want to make small talk but she didn’t want silence right now, either. Besides,