Interrupted Romance Read online

"I can't go tomorrow as I'm having a book-signing function for a local author, at the shop. And Tuesday I have appointments with the sales reps. But, Wednesday is OK for me. How about you?"

  "Great. If the weather is fine, come for me early. About 7 a.m. A few hours on the beach would be enough, I guess, but we could pack some sandwiches and a drink. What do you think?"

  Dafna was pleased with the thought of a picnic with Adam. On the beach, away from other people, she could use the time to learn more about him. Hang the fishing!

  Shortly after that, she prepared to leave and Adam walked her to the door. This time it was he who planted a soft kiss on her cheek. To do it, he had to bring his hands up to her face and slowly lean down towards her. She closed her eyes as his lips then moved to touch hers, ever so gently. Momentarily, he pressed closer to her, then moved away and released her face. He couldn't see it but she stood there a moment longer with her eyes still closed.

  He said, "'Til Wednesday then."

  "Bye, Adam," she said, slipping out the door as he held it open for her.

  The drive home was a daze. She didn't remember traffic lights, traffic, pedestrians, cyclists, anything. Fortunately, none of them got in her way. Even the car was parked safely without much recollection of having done it.

  Dafna walked into her apartment and headed for the kitchen. Coffee was definitely an option now. On the way past the phone she saw the light blinking on her answering machine. She thought, 'in a minute', coffee first.

  When she had a mug of steaming coffee in her hand, she headed back to hear the message on the machine.

  She didn't recognise the voice as it started: "Dafna, darling, this is Mrs Bergman, your mother's friend and neighbour in Australia. Could you please call me as soon as you come in? Your mother has had a stroke and is in hospital. She is asking for you…" The coffee crashed to the floor as Dafna's mind froze on these words. She stared at the machine, willing it to explain further. At last, she realised the message had stopped and she didn't know the ending. She dreaded the ending. Reaching down, she pressed the 'play' button again. Mrs Bergman had left a number where she could be called 'at any time at all, dear' and went on to explain that Dafna's mother was being well-looked after and in no immediate danger, but there were details which she felt Dafna ought to know.

  Dafna glanced at the clock which showed almost 5.00 p.m. Doing a quick calculation, she worked out that it was then midnight in Sydney, or thereabouts. Was it daylight saving time? She couldn't concentrate, couldn't work it out. Maybe it was 1 a.m. in the morning. Dafna paced up and down the room, trying to bring her thoughts into line before she called Mrs Bergman. She had to call, she'd said it would be alright.

  Dafna played the message once more. She wrote down the phone number. Taking a deep breath she called the number halfway around the world. Surprisingly, it was answered at the first ring. Mrs Bergman had been waiting for the call.

  Dafna steeled herself for news she didn't want to hear, but Mrs Bergman's reassuring voice calmed her a little. Her mother had been taken to hospital after Mrs Bergman went to her house for their arranged afternoon tea and found her friend in a chair, collapsed. She travelled in the ambulance with her friend to the Westmead hospital in the western suburbs, near where they lived at Parramatta. The rest of the details were mainly of a medical nature that Dafna didn't take in completely. She was calculating how quickly could she get a flight to Sydney to be with her mother. When Dafna finally put down the telephone her hands were shaking, but her mind was ticking over at a rate of knots.

  "Pack! I have to pack," she said aloud. Moving hurriedly, she dashed into the bedroom, found her suitcase and threw it on the bed. She had travelled a lot in the last few years, so packing was not a trauma. It was done within 10 minutes. All she would need now was a seat on a flight to Australia. Dafna put through a call to the travel agent she generally used. The gist of the conversation was that she would take any seat available, on any flight, with any airline, at any time, so long as it left this day for Australia! The agent sounded surprised, but when Dafna explained the reason for her haste, she quickly set about looking for the best option… the fastest one. She promised to call Dafna right back.

  In the meantime, Dafna put a call through to the shop. Briefly, she explained to Yael about her mother's illness and how she would be making every effort to secure a flight out to Australia. If all went well, she would be on a plane instead of coming into the shop. She knew the girls would manage in her absence, which she expected would be for several weeks. There wasn't time to arrange for her mobile phone to have global roaming. She left a contact phone number, her mother's, where she would be staying. Yael quietly reminded her that they already had that number on file from when she had gone to Australia before.

  Next, she phoned the directory assistance people to obtain the number of the hospital in Australia. There was a short wait, but finally it was read out to her. She was able, eventually, to get through to the sister-in-charge of her mother's ward. Quickly establishing her relationship to her mother, she was able to ask for, and be given, an update on her mother's condition. The report was reassuring. Her mother was very ill, but in a stable condition. More tests would ascertain the extent of any damage caused. She was 'resting comfortably', as nurses often said. The sister, who had a kind voice, asked Dafna if there were any other brothers or sisters whom she could notify. Dafna explained that she was an only child, her parents having married late in life. Her father had passed away two years ago, and there was no one else to notify other than her mother's friends, which she would do as soon as she arrived. She said she would be on the first available flight back to Sydney and she would be there, at the hospital, as soon as it was physically possible. The sister wished her a comfortable flight, and said, "Try not to worry too much. We’ll see you soon, then."

  The agent rang back as promised. As it happened, there was a recent cancellation on a Thai Airlines flight, to Bangkok, picking up a Qantas flight into Sydney. It was in economy class. Dafna took it. But she would have to hurry, as it was due to leave just after 10.30 p.m. Check-in time was 7.30 p.m. and she still had to get to the airport. She paid with her credit card, her passport was current and her clothes were packed. Dafna phoned for a taxi to pick her up at the apartment in about fifteen minutes. So far, so good.

  Everything went smoothly. She left her luggage in the hallway and called on her neighbour to quickly explain her predicament and ask if she would arrange to collect any mail, and hold it. Then she left the building, just as the taxi was pulling up outside. The driver loaded her suitcase into the boot and she was on her way.

  The traffic moved steadily, if a bit sluggishly in places, but the driver got her to Ben Gur in plenty of time to check her luggage. She went through the usual rigmarole of questions of whether she had packed the bag herself; was she carrying anything for another person? The long delays at the counters were due to the strict security checks, which the passengers had to go through before being cleared to move to the departure lounges. Passengers not travelling on an Israeli passport were subjected to rigorous searches of their luggage. They also had to answer innumerable questions about where they'd been, who they'd stayed with, where they were going etc. Fortunately for Dafna, she was travelling on the 'magic' blue passport of an Israeli citizen and wasn't delayed unnecessarily. Once through to the lounge, she could feel sympathy for some of the 'foreign' travellers who had been showing their exasperation at the length of the questioning and searches. At the same time, there was good reason for it all. Hadn't the explosion she'd been involved in proved how important it was to check everyone and everything?

  After an impatient wait, the passengers were called to board and the journey had really begun.

  CHAPTER 4

  It was a weary Dafna who arrived at Mascot, in Sydney. There had been patches of fitful sleep on the flight, but it was never deep enough to be really therapeutic. Too many people, too much movement, meals, drinks, announcements, broken by a wait
between flights in Bangkok.

  Her only discomfort came when it was time to go to the baggage collection area in Sydney. Memories of the bombing in Israel swiftly came back to her. She was nervous, very edgy. As it happened, it wasn't a long wait and there were no incidents of any kind. People around her were calm and patient. They collected their luggage and moved away to taxis or the car park. This was the Australia she knew and loved. It wasn't part of their lives to look over their shoulders all the time, as terrorism hadn't arrived yet. She joined the taxi queue, waiting her turn. There were plenty of taxis coming in all the time, so it was with relief that she was soon on her way to the hospital.

  At the hospital, she found her way up to the ward where she would see her mother. She was able to leave her luggage at the nurses' station while she went into her mother's room. At first, her mother seemed to be asleep, but when Dafna took her hand she opened her eyes. Recognition came and she tried to smile. Her mouth didn't seem to be working too well. A nurse followed Dafna and smiled at her. She told Dafna that her mother had lost some movements. She asked Dafna not to stay too long with her mother just yet. They were going to be doing more tests today. Her mother would be out of the ward for a little time.

  Dafna kissed her mother and talked to her for a few minutes, telling her that she would go home to rest and come back in the morning.

  The rest of the day was taken care of. Once Dafna settled into her room at her mother's house, unpacked her clothes and hung them in the wardrobe, she showered and changed into her pyjamas. One last thing had to be done. She called her mother's friend, Mrs Bergman, to let her know she'd arrived and would call to see her the following day after she'd slept.

  Dafna crawled into bed and was fast asleep in moments.

  *************

  Adam woke early on Wednesday morning. He was eager to be ready when Dafna called for him at 7 a.m. He breakfasted on fruit and coffee, followed that with a shave and a shower. He was dressed and ready by 6.30 a.m. He knew what time it was when the radio news came on. The news finished and he listened to music for what seemed a long time, before he became restless. It wasn't until the next news was announced at 7.30 a.m. that he started to worry. Where was she? Had something happened? He used up some time gathering some fruit and cheese to put in a picnic basket. His mother had bought the wine he'd asked for and put it in the refrigerator. He'd leave it there until the last moment.

  Wandering about his apartment, thoughts were whirling through his mind. Had she stood him up? Maybe she didn't want to be seen with a blind man? That was it! She'd decided there were better things to do than guide a blind man around. Of course. What an idiot he was to think a girl would be bothered with him now. And he had suggested fishing. She would be doing everything for him - from baiting the hooks, to cleaning the fish - it was messy enough for one person, let alone doing it all for another. Apart from that, she would be taking him to the picnic, when he should be taking her to it. No wonder she wasn't coming! A time check on the radio gave him the time… 8.15 a.m. He didn't know her home phone number, although it would be possible to get it, if he really wanted to pursue this. And there was the book shop. He hesitated to call there. What if she was there, and working, and didn't want to be tracked down? By now, he had picked up the handset, but put it down again. 'Meshugah! Wake up, man! She doesn’t want to know you,' he thought.

  Adam was miserable. He was disappointed that Dafna would be so easily put off by his condition. He had thought from their last meeting that things were going along nicely. Obviously, she had thought twice about it and decided it was a lost cause. All he could remember was the touch of her soft lips, the warmth of her body when he had held her, so briefly, the other day.

  He sat on the sofa to wait… to hope…

  CHAPTER 5

  Dafna woke to an Australian summer's day… blue sky, sunshine and heat. Being February, the humidity would be high as well. She had thrown off the sheet during the night and it lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. Her skin was clammy and she needed another shower. Strange, but she hadn't even noticed the temperature yesterday when she arrived!

  She lay there, gathering herself to move to the bathroom, watching the curtains move slightly in the breeze that was struggling to make itself felt. Already, it must be close to 30 degrees. "God! It will be 40-something today, if this is how it is starting," she muttered.

  Twenty minutes later, showered, hair washed and glistening, dressed in cool shirt and shorts, she stood on the verandah in the sun, drying her hair. She dropped the towel on a chair beside her and stepped off the verandah onto the grass, walking towards her mother's much-loved and cared-for gardens. The beds were full of roses under-planted with phlox, pansies, petunias and some other plants, which Dafna couldn't identify. To the right, the pergola was draped with a climbing rose, white and abundant, where her mother's favourite garden bench was placed. Dafna sat on the bench, shaded from the early sun and enjoyed the coolness and tranquillity of this part of the garden. She could survey the rest of the yard from where she sat. In another corner, a lemon-scented tea-tree grew near a stand of gums. The leaves of the lemon-scented tea-tree were often used by her mother to freshen up clothes stored in drawers. They produced a strong lemon scent when crushed, and were an environmentally friendly way of perfuming the fabrics. Dafna used to complain to her mother that she went out smelling like a piece of fruit! The gums weren't too close to the stone house, built in the 1880's, but because of their height were now able to drop leaves and twigs into the guttering around the roof. Dafna could see a job looming. Clearing the guttering was time-consuming but not difficult. After she'd been to the hospital, she would drag out the ladder and tend to that job. It was one she'd done many times in the past, whenever she was in Australia.

  She stretched her tanned legs out before her, draped her arms along the back of the bench and thought about a picnic lunch, right in this very garden area. It was pleasant in the shaded nooks, with birds whistling and calling above her, bright flowers all around, plenty of food in the fridge, a bottle of red in the wine rack and… ADAM! She'd totally forgotten her picnic date with Adam.

  She'd jumped to her feet in agitation, hands to her head. She ran towards the house, thinking about telephoning him, and then came to an abrupt halt. What time was it over there? Close to midnight in Israel. It wouldn't be right to call now, so that meant waiting until after the hospital visit, late afternoon, which would be early morning in Israel… but the wrong day. She'd even missed the right day! Dafna couldn't believe that she had totally forgotten about Adam in her rush to leave Israel. While she was busy trying to remember his phone number, she became aware that her shirt was sticking to her shoulders. Already the heat was intense enough that perspiration had dampened her clothes and hair. She wriggled her shoulders in annoyance at this added distraction and moved back to the pergola's shady comfort. Sitting, leaning on her knees, she started to work out the day's timetable in her head, covering first a call to the neighbour, Mrs Bergman, then a visit to the hospital, followed by a call to Israel. The picnic lunch didn't seem half so attractive an idea any more. She could only think about the picnic planned with Adam and how bewildered he was probably feeling.

  The call to Mrs Bergman took close to half an hour. The elderly lady was relieved that Dafna had arrived at last. She offered to make some meals for Dafna to put in the freezer, but Dafna declined nicely, saying that she enjoyed cooking and would need to fill in some time by working in the kitchen. In fact, she'd need to make a trip to the supermarket to restock the pantry and fridge. There was time to do that before lunch, before the midday heat became unbearable. At this time of year in Australia, the build-up of heat inside a car left under a blazing sun, with closed windows, could reach way over 50 degrees Celsius before the middle of the day. It was like stepping into a sauna, fully clothed. Even air-conditioned cars, like her mother's, took time to cool down under these conditions.

  That decision made, Dafna lost no time in drivin
g to the nearest shopping centre, managing to park under a tree. She would need to be back before the sun moved around to heat the car. She'd been to this place before with her mother, so that she was familiar with the layout of the shops. Dafna was able to gather her food supply quickly, returning home within the hour. She parked the car back in the garage and went inside the house to unpack the groceries before putting them away.

  The house was relatively cool inside. Thirty-two degrees was cool compared to the forty-one degrees outside. Dafna prepared a small salad, poured a glass of cold orange juice, turned on the radio to listen to some music while she finished her lunch. She caught the end of the news - bushfires in the outer south-western suburbs again; an eminent visiting eye specialist from Israel, Dr Roni Feldman, was lecturing at the Sydney University Medical School over the coming week; the Australian cricket team had won another series - the world champions were hard to beat.