She returned to the family room, switched on the televison and set the control to the channel owned by Owen Chissolm. She made herself a cup of coffee and propped herself on the kitchen stool to await Hal's appearance.
The programme began with a recapitulation of his career as a television reporter and producer/director of news documentaries. The highlight was inevitably the terrorist bomb attack which had taken the life of Kirsty Balfour, Hal's closest associate. The reminder was painful, but Karen steeled herself to block out the pain. It was Hal who was all important now.
Her whole body tensed as he strode on to the set, his tall, lithe frame emitting a fitness which Karen knew to be false. Owen had told her it would be at least another month before Hal's convalescence was complete. But his face was tanned, he moved with apparent ease, and the blue and grey sweater and grey slacks emphasised the attractiveness of his dark good looks.
He was heartily welcomed by the host of the show, who barely gave him time to sit before plunging into chat. 'You must be glad to be home after such a traumatic experience, Hal.'
'Yes. I came as soon as the doctors cleared me for travel. I'm afraid I wasn't a very patient patient,' he added sardonically.
'You look well enough--particularly after such a serious operation. One of the pieces of metal the doctors removed was lodged next to your heart, wasn't it?'
'Yes. The surgeons had to cut through part of one lung to get to it. Fortunately I have a very strong constitution. I believe they didn't give me much chance of survival at one stage, but I certainly had no intention of dying.' A grim smile curled his lips. 'Life was suddenly very necessary to me.'
Karen's heart lurched. Because of David. And he had come home as soon as he could for David.
'I understand you're now retiring from the active field and taking up administration. Was it your brush with death which motivated this decision?'
'No. But it gave me an awareness of family responsibilities. I sHall remain based in Sydney from now on .. .'
Well, there could be nothing more definite than that, Karen thought miserably.
' ... My father keeps telling me he's not as young as he used to be,' Hal added drily.
The interviewer chuckled. 'Are you telling us that Owen Chissolm is thinking of retiring?'
Hal gave a short, mocking laugh. 'Never! But he's always been keen for me to take a greater interest in home affairs, and I'm now more inclined to agree with him.'
They talked on about the Chissolm media empire, but Karen had heard all she needed to know. Hal was home to stay, and she had no doubt that his 'family responsibilities' referred to David. She was very much afraid that Hal would not be content to be a Sunday father, but she could not give David up to him. He was her son too. Surely the years and the love she had given to David counted as much as Hal's rights as a natural father?
She had been forced to concede that Hal did have rights. His assertions in the hospital had been reinforced by what Owen had told her last Sunday. Owen had always been fair to her and she trusted him. When she had broachea the subject of Kirsty's relationship with Hal, she was sure that Owen had given her the truth as he knew it. Every word he had spoken was carved into her memory.
'Some four years ago Hal came to me and discussed the various options he could take up should he give the travelling up. I was delighted. I assumed at the time that he intended marrying Kirsty, but nothing came of it. And he changed. It's difficult to explain, not something you can really put your finger on. There was more of a compulsion to go to dangerous places, a recklessness which I didn't think was natural to him. It was more fitting to a youth, and Hal was past that. He wouldn't talk to me about it. I once made a critical comment on his relationship with Kirsty and he told me to mind my own damned business. He became ... unreachable to me. I blamed Kirsty for it.'
And she had blamed Hal--wrongly, blindly and perhaps unjustly. Karen knew now that her sister's dying words had been a wish to make restoration for what she had taken from him. Karen also knew that she was being forced to pay the price of her sister's debt, yet what would be the final cost to herself? And David? A child was not a parcel one could just pass around, and she loved him with a fiercely protective mother's love. All she could really do was hope Hal would be reasonable, but judging from his hard manner tonight, Karen could not dredge up much faith in that hope.
The telephone rang. She stared at it, tension screaming along her nerves. Was it Hal? The current affairs programme had ended while she had been brooding over her dilemma. Gingerly she picked the receiver up. Her mouth was completely dry, and she quickly worked some saliva into it.
'Karen Aylward,' she croaked.
'It's Barry, Karen.' Shock rippled through her. Barry! She had neither seen nor heard from him in the two years since their divorce. She heard him take a deep breath.
'I was just watching a programme on television and heard about Kirsty. I was out of the country and didn't hear the news when it happened, Karen. I know how very close you two were. It must have been ... ' another deep breath, 'you must feel terribly alone. If there's anything I can do, help in some way .. .'
Tears swam into her eyes, grief welling again at the reminder of her loneliness. And with Hal threatening the fabric she had made of her life, she felt more alone than ever. 'That's ... that's kind of you, Barry,' she choked out. 'Thank you, but there's nothing you can do.' Not about Kirsty, or about David. Barry hadn't wanted David.
A long sigh whispered over the line. 'I guess Kirsty's boy is a comfort to you.'
A comfort and an agonising worry, but Karen swallowed down her private pain. 'Yes, he is. He's a wonderful little boy.'
Another sigh. 'I know I let you down badly over him. I'm sorry, Karen. I was just one hell of a mess at the time--no good to myself, let alone to you or anyone else.'
'It's past, Barry,' Karen said quickly, not feeling up to rehashing those memories.
'Yes, it is past. That's what I wanted to say. It's been a long time, but I still care for you, Karen. Very much. I want to see you again. There's something very important that I want to tell you. Can we meet?'
Her mind whirled. Did she want to see Barry again and risk re-opening feelings she had put behind her? David was her life now, and Barry had rejected David.
'Is there someone else, Karen?'
'No, it's not that,' she blurted out, yet there was someone else. There was Hal... Hal coming to take David away from her if he could. It was difficult to think of anything else, let alone some kind of reunion with Barry.
'Karen, please ... I must see you. We missed out on so much together. I know it was mainly my fault, but we did share a lot of things and now it's possible for us to share a great deal more. I promise you it's very important.'