Our Kind of Love

By: Victoria Purman

She didn’t bite. ‘You all alone, then?’

‘As you can see.’


‘Mmm what?’

‘Did you come home alone last night?’

‘Last time I looked I was the journalist around here which means I get to ask the questions, remember?’

‘Just wondering.’

‘And where the hell were you all night?’

‘No comment,’ Lizzie replied with an enigmatic smile. Hell, he didn’t need her to answer. He knew she’d spent the night with Dan McSwaine, who’d been working with her on the Middle Point pub reno. The guy who was Ry’s best man and one who, no doubt at some time in the future, would be his brother-in-law. He was sure of it and he was happy for Lizzie that she was going to get her happy ending. She’d waited long enough for it.

As for him, he didn’t believe in happy endings anymore.

Not since his own had crashed and burned.

So, Anna was married.

She’d obviously been after exactly what he’d been after. Great sex. Simple. Uncomplicated. No strings attached and no phone numbers.

Good. He wasn’t looking for anything else. Not anymore.



‘What’s the week looking like, Gracie?’

Anna closed the back door of her suburban GP practice with a heavy thud, double-checked to make sure it was locked, and dropped her keys into her handbag. Her practice had begun its life in the 1960s as a three-bedroom cream brick house, but had been converted into a GP surgery by the previous owners. That was what she’d liked about it the first time she’d seen it; it still felt like a home. The back door and laundry led to a hallway, her consulting room, the reception area and the waiting room.

At the sound of her stilettos, Anna’s little sister popped her head into the hallway from the reception area and executed a simultaneous tongue cluck and eye roll.

‘What do you think? You ask me the same question every Monday and every Monday the answer is exactly the same. Chock-a-block. And,’ Grace checked her watch, ‘at nine o’clock that phone will go crazy. The whole world gets sick over the weekend apparently and can’t possibly see anyone else but Dr Morelli, pronto.’

Grace turned to the window overlooking the suburban street and adjusted the white venetian blinds, directing the bright morning light to the ceiling. Outside, cars already lined the street, filled with patients who were always fifteen minutes early. Grace knew to keep the front door locked until precisely 9 a.m., or she’d have to start serving breakfast.

Grace smiled and started her familiar sing-song refrain. ‘You’re so popular. Everyone wants you. Dr Morelli this. Dr Morelli that.’

‘What can I say, Gracie? I can’t help it if my patients love me.’ Anna stood in the doorway, surveying her sister’s domain. The consulting room was hers. But this space, where Grace met and greeted patients, organised accounts, answered the phone, and basically ran the show, was like the helm of a ship and Grace was it’s captain. Anna had hired her five years before when she’d bought the practice and it had been a brilliant move. Grace was organised, fastidious, loved patients and spoke fluent Italian. In other words, she was just like her big sister.

‘Did you get to Luca’s birthday lunch at Mum and Dad’s yesterday?’ Anna asked.

Grace rolled her eyes. ‘You think I could get away with a no-show as well as you? Of course I was there. Five courses. Mum went crazy.’

‘What did Nonna say about me not being there?’ Nonna Alessio, her Mum’s mother, was a hearty eighty-four years old and possessed the uncanny skill of spotting an unmarried man at fifty paces.

Grace began counting on her fingers. ‘Let me recap. Nonna’s worried you’re working too hard, that it means you and Alex won’t have time to make babies. Mum wants you to eat more ’cos you’re fading away. Dad says you need to buy another house. And Luca has a weird rash he wants you to look at.’

Luca. The baby of the family. The six-foot-two baby. And that made her think of babies. Anna shivered, despite the early warmth of the summer day. She would never have babies with Alex. And suddenly it hit her. Thank God I’m not pregnant. They were words she’d never imagined she would think, not after everything she’d been through.

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