LITMIR.BIZ

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back tears, desperate to stop them from spilling over onto her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she was still so wound up, she would have thought she’d cried enough earlier in the day to last her a while.

      ‘Yay! Can I have gelati?

      Sam laughed and punched Edward lightly on the arm, immediately starting a play fight. ‘Spaghetti first and then gelati.’

      Juliet let Edward wrestle his father for a minute before calling a stop to the physical stuff. ‘Okay, enough, guys,’ she said. ‘Time for dinner.’

      ‘Your mum’s right, champ,’ Sam said as Edward started to complain that their game had been halted prematurely. ‘The taxi’s waiting.’

      Juliet hadn’t considered how Sam had got to their house but as she herded them through the front door and into the driveway she saw a cab parked behind her car. ‘You can take my car if that’s easier. I don’t need it.’

      ‘Aren’t you coming with us?’ Kate picked up on Juliet’s wording.

      ‘No, darling, this is Dad’s treat.’

      Sam stopped, extending her an invitation. ‘You’re welcome to join us, Jules.’

      ‘Thanks, but there’s some stuff I want to do here. Let me get the car keys.’ She turned away from Sam, not wanting him to see the lie on her face. She grabbed her keys from the hall table and returned to find Sam had sent the taxi off. She handed him the keys and kissed her children goodbye. She watched them climb into her car and waited as they waved to her before they disappeared down the street.

      She turned, picking up a stray football that was lying in the front garden, and took it inside with her, the vision of Edward’s fair head stuck in her mind. He was the spitting image of Sam to look at, a little ball of muscle. They were both bundles of energy and Ed was already mad about ball sports, although, living in Melbourne, he preferred Aussie rules football over Sam’s choice of rugby union.

      Juliet had grown up in Sydney where rugby was the main winter sport, and although she hadn’t been a huge fan she now had a soft spot for rugby as that was how she’d first met Sam. She moved through the house, tidying up bits and pieces as she let her mind wander.

      She was still finding it difficult to reconcile herself with the idea that Sam was no longer her husband. He would always be part of her life, connected to her through their children, and she needed to work out how they were going to deal with that. After twelve years of marriage she couldn’t expect to accept that it was over without some regrets but she knew she had to get past that.

      The house was quiet, too quiet, but she had to be prepared to be alone. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to having the house to herself but she thought the solitude might at least give her a chance to make some sense of the day.

      In some respects twelve years seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. Mostly, if it weren’t for the changes she saw in her children and for the strands of grey appearing in her dark hair, changes that made it hard to ignore the passage of time, she wouldn’t believe she was nearer forty than thirty.

      Other days she felt all of her thirty-six years. Today was one of those days. She felt tired, physically and mentally. She wasn’t surprised to be emotionally exhausted. It wasn’t every day one had to appear in court to get divorced but if she was honest with herself she’d have to admit that she was often physically tired by early evening. Realistically she knew it had nothing to do with being a single mother, she’d been a single mother for long stretches of time when Sam had been away on naval exercises, but she hadn’t been able to pinpoint any other change, except perhaps stress. She should probably go and get a check-up, she thought, she couldn’t afford to get sick.

      She took some clean laundry into her room. Her bed was freshly made, the pillows plumped and inviting. The house was still. It couldn’t hurt to lie down for a few minutes, could it? Maybe a catnap would lift her spirits.

      She lay down, trying to remember what she’d looked like thirteen years ago when she’d first met Sam. It was easier to recall exactly what he’d looked like. A gorgeous, blond Adonis, and it had been lust at first sight. She’d been twenty-four and had moved from Sydney to Canberra, the nation’s capital, to do her Master’s in international law at the Australian National University. Her flatmate, Stella, had dragged her to a rugby game between the engineering faculty of the ANU and a team from the defence force academy. It had been an annual event, a huge social day with the rugby match followed by a party, and Stella had been chasing one of the university players, so Juliet had been her moral support. Juliet had expected to help Stella meet her man, she hadn’t expected to find one for herself.

       Canberra, 1995

      Juliet was standing with Stella and a group of friends on the boundary of the rugby pitch when a man, a glorious, blond man, raced towards them, flying down the wing. He had the ball tucked under his right arm and his rugby jumper was moulded to his body. Juliet could see the outline of his biceps and deltoid clearly defined by the contours of his top. She was a sucker for good arms and there was no doubt that this guy had them. She watched as he fended off an opposing player with his left hand, a quick shove to the chest upsetting his opponent’s balance, and he was away, strong legs pumping as he headed for the try-line. He goose-stepped over a diving defender, his quick movements belying his size. He had to be at least six feet of solid muscle but he moved with the agility of someone much lighter.

      Juliet could see the last line of defence, a pair of opponents, blocking his path, lining up to double-team him. She saw him look around quickly, assessing his options. He had a teammate coming up on his outside. He didn’t slow his pace but ran in a slightly diagonal line towards the centre of the pitch, straight towards the oncoming defenders. Juliet held her breath, willing this glorious stranger safely past them. She couldn’t see how he could possibly manage to evade them—as solid as he was, the others were bigger again and there were two of them. They had the typical build of rugby players?massive limbs, thick necks and take-no-prisoners looks on their faces. They looked like two enormous tree trunks in the middle of the field.

      Juliet waited, expecting to see the blond demigod attempt to dodge around the opposition?she was convinced he’d be fast enough to get around them but he kept running straight at them. She watched him drop his left shoulder and spin to his right as the full backs crunched into him, slamming him into the ground. Even on the soft grass the thud of bodies colliding was loud and painful. Her hands flew to her mouth?somewhere under that man mountain lay the most divine male she’d seen in a long time—how many pieces was he going to be in when the dust settled?

      She felt someone bump against her, the crowd around her was screaming and yelling, people were jumping up and down. She saw the ball come sailing backwards, arcing through the air. Had he managed to release the ball before he’d been crunched?

      The diagonal path he’d chosen, the path that had led him straight into danger, had given his teammate a chance to gain some ground and Juliet watched as the ball landed securely in the teammate’s hands. He was ten metres from the opposing try line with no one to beat.

      Juliet celebrated the try with the crowd, caught up in the moment, caught up in one man. She nudged Stella as the celebrations continued. ‘Do you know who number fourteen is for the defence force?’

      Stella shook her head. Juliet wasn’t surprised; Stella was there to cheer for the university side—she had no allegiance to the defence academy. But that didn’t mean Juliet couldn’t adopt the defence force team as hers.

      ‘Can I have a look at the programme?’ she asked.

      Stella handed over the paper she’d been holding and Juliet scrolled down the page. Number fourteen?Sam Taylor. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

      Juliet spent the rest of the half with one eye on Sam and the other on the crowd, trying to determine if anyone seemed to be following Sam particularly. There were plenty of supporters yelling for him whenever he got the ball, which seemed to be a frequent occurrence, but it was hard to tell if any of them were as focussed on Sam as she was. In

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