Chapters (50)
- Cover
- About the Book
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Sandie Docker
- Book Club Questions
- Welcome to the Kookaburra Creek Café
- Prologue
- One
- Sign up to Read More and discover new favourites
What a powerful word. Friend. What an inadequate word.
She sucked in great gulps of air.
He’d have hated such a display of emotion. A wry smile touched her lips.
Thirty-six
Mandy and Trevor had come right over as soon as Nicole called to tell them the news, and now she was sitting at her dining table with a cold cup of tea in front of her. Mandy fussed about in the sink, washing Nicole’s breakfast dishes. Trevor stood beside the fridge, hands in his pockets.
‘Don’t suppose you feel much like eating?’ Mandy asked.
‘I should have insisted he go to hospital.’
‘None of us could have made Charlie do anything he didn’t want to. You know that,’ Mandy said as she sat beside her.
‘I should have been there. Stayed twenty-four seven till he got better.’
‘Oh, he would have just loved that.’ Mandy laughed. ‘He wasn’t going to get better, honey,’ she said. ‘Charlie’s been a lot sicker than most people realise for a long time now. Doctor Johnson’s been treating him a while. Cancer. I think they were at what you call the palliative stage. Just keeping him comfortable. Besides, what could you have done if you had been there?’
‘Held his hand. Let him know he wasn’t alone.’
‘He probably preferred it this way.’ Mandy put her arm round Nicole’s shaking shoulders.
He was sick, he got better, he got her to send one more letter, then he died. A thought occurred to Nicole.
‘Do you think people can choose when they die? You know, when they’re sick or hurt. Can they pick the exact moment?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. But it’s a compelling thought.’
‘But he was alone,’ Nicole sighed.
‘He may have died alone, but because of you, he didn’t live alone. And that’s far more important. You were his friend. You made a difference.’
‘The whole thing sucks.’ Nicole slammed her hand down on the table.
‘Yep.’
‘The question now,’ Trevor moved towards the table, ‘is whether there’s anyone who needs to be told. Any long-lost family.’
‘Mr Dixon!’ Nicole shouted.
‘Sorry?’ asked Mandy, startled.
‘For a few weeks Charlie was getting me to send letters to a Mr Dixon in Sydney. I think there were three altogether. They were going to a business address.’
‘Do you think it could be a relative?’ Trevor asked.
‘Give me a minute.’ Mandy started pacing the floor. ‘Dixon and Dodge.’ She slapped Trevor on the shoulder.
‘Ouch.’
‘Doyle.’ Nicole stood up, seeing the address in her mind. ‘Dixon and Doyle. Why didn’t I put two and two together?’
Nicole ran into the living room and returned with a file and pulled out the lease for the cottage.
‘Dixon and Doyle.’ She slammed the document on the table. She’d only paid scant attention when she’d signed it and all her dealings had been with some office junior.