Running Home: Paradise Cove Series, #1

By Karen Mace

Mollie Brennan thought her life was perfect when she and her best friend and cousin, Claire, moved to Tasmania from Queensland. When the unthinkable happens, grief-stricken Mollie returns home to Paradise Cove hoping to find peace and some light in a world where darkness threatens to overcome.

In a season that changes not only Mollie but those who are close to her, the brilliance of a love she hadn't realised was there overshadows the heartache that has threatened to destroy her. Along the way, secrets are revealed and the truth about Mollie's family history emerges.

Running Home is a novel about tremendous grief and unprecedented loss, a story of struggling to find your way when everything you've based your faith on is torn from you, and the power of love in overcoming. This first book in the Paradise Cove series can also be a stand-alone story of one woman's search for love and belonging.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Mace
• Release date: Dec 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9780645519426

Karen Mace

Karen Mace lives in the Tamar Valley not far from Launceston in Tasmania. Her career and studies have spanned the health and education sectors for most of her working life and include a master's degree in nursing and counselling and qualifications in teaching and psychology. She and her family spent eight years in Ecuador, South America. While they were there, two of their daughters died in a tragic accident, and perhaps because of this, Karen eventually moved into counselling with a focus on grief therapy. Her book, A Grief Revealed, was an Amazon best seller when it was launched in January 2021. Karen has also published a memoir, Looking Back Moving Forward. Running Home is her first novel. Karen loves to relax by baking sourdough breads and sweet treats, walking ,and spending time camping with her husband and friends. Readers can contact Karen through her website, karenmace.com, or find her on Facebook and Instagram.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Mollie was about to finish her shift in the Emergency Department when she felt an urge to run. She didn’t realize she had stopped mid-sentence until her colleague, who was taking over Mollie’s patients, nudged her. Another ambulance was on its way, its siren warning of its arrival from blocks away. Mollie tried to focus on giving her colleague the information she needed, but the closer the ambulance came, the more Mollie wanted to run. It was weird. She had been working in the ED for over five years and loved it. Ambulance sirens, the busyness of a Friday night, the rush to hand over, it was all part of the buzz of working in the unit. She shook herself as the siren whined to a stop, said goodbye to the elderly gentleman who had needed constant reassurance, and started toward the locker room. She must be tired. Thank goodness tonight was her last shift this week and she had the weekend off. Maybe she would run home. It was only minutes from the hospital to their flat in The Glebe, and a run might be just the thing to work off the adrenalin from the busy shift. She could feel her feet pounding the pavement before she even started.Mollie checked her phone. Claire had messaged a while ago to say she and Pete were leaving the party and would see her at home. Usually, when one of them arrived home before the other, an emoji of a steaming cup let the other know the kettle was on. Maybe they had called in somewhere to grab something for supper. Mollie was always hungry after an evening shift. She jogged on the spot while pulling her locker door open.

‘Mollie!’

Her mind told her, ‘Run!’

‘Mollie!’

The urgency in the charge nurse’s voice stopped Mollie.

‘You need to come.’

Mollie opened her mouth to tell Sue she had finished her shift and was going home.

Sue grabbed Mollie’s hand and pulled her toward the resus room. Why would she be doing that? Mollie wanted to run in the other direction. She reached for her phone. Claire. Where was Claire? Why had everything stopped? Even the equipment alarms were quiet. Mollie felt like she was walking in a thick fog. When they reached the door, she pulled back, looked at Sue, and shook her head.

‘No.’ It was a croak, more than a word.

‘You have to, Mollie.’ Someone pulled the door open before Sue could push it.

Why were they standing around? Mollie looked from one face to another. Her colleagues. She had worked with them all. Why weren’t they doing something for the patient on the trolley? Why did they need her here? She turned to go. She needed to run. To run home. Claire might be waiting for her.

‘Mollie?’

Claire’s voice. Mollie moved toward the battered body on the trolley.

Almost blue-black curls framed Claire’s now porcelain-pale skin. Her heart-shaped face was perfect. Wide, slightly upward-slanted eyes, so like Mollie’s, searched for her cousin, for her best friend. Mollie didn’t remember getting to the side of the trolley, taking Claire’s left hand, running her thumb over the new engagement ring, the ring that Pete had shown to Mollie when he told her he was going to propose to Claire tonight. The ring that should have been the beginning of something. Willing it to be a sign that Claire would be okay.

Mollie wanted to save Claire. She was a nurse; she should be able to save her. The pain in her chest was excruciating; like someone had put a dagger in and was turning it.

Please God, don’t let Claire die. Please. Please. Someone pushed a chair into the back of her legs. She collapsed on to it, and dropped her head, the bright copper curls a stark contrast to the white of the sheet covering Claire.

Claire attempted to place a hand on Mollie’s head. It brushed the side of Mollie’s tear-wet face.

‘You'll be okay, Mollie. I know you will. I’ll be waiting for you. I …’ A shudder, a tightening of shuttered eyelids, an involuntary squeeze of Mollie’s hand, a gasp of pain, then the barely whispered words, ‘Love you, Mol doll,’ hung in the stillness, as Claire’s body relaxed.

‘No! No!’

Mollie turned to her colleagues. ‘Do something. Please, do something.’ Sue shook her head, reaching out a hand to Mollie.

‘There’s nothing … we can’t …’ Her hand dropped away.

Mollie turned back to Claire, placing a cold hand against her cousin’s pale cheek, hoping to feel warm breath as she leaned closer. Hoping Claire would hear her when she told her, ‘I love you, Claire Bear.’

The monitor alarm was the only sound in the room. A flat line raced across its screen.

Mollie sat on Claire’s unmade bed. She bounced a little. A whiff of Claire’s favorite perfume, Joie de Vivre, wafted around her. It described Claire perfectly. Buzzing with the joy of life. But not anymore.

A slight breeze off the Derwent ruffled the curtains. Liam would be here soon to pick her up. Pete had offered his place to plan a celebration service for Claire. For Claire’s life. A life she should still be living. Was still living until two days ago. Was it only two days? Mollie hugged Claire’s pillow to her. The ache that had been with her since Friday intensified. She struggled to breathe. If she didn’t think about it, if she could only keep the thought, the images, away, she could imagine Claire was at work, or out with Pete. Imagine her laugh as she opened the door and shouted a greeting to Joe who lived downstairs. If she could just shut out the memories, she could hear Claire calling ‘I’m home,’ regardless of the time. If she didn’t think about that night, Claire could still be alive. But she wasn’t, and planning this service meant Mollie had to think about it.

Paraclete Church was full even though it was Thursday, a workday for many, and people were still arriving. Some propped themselves against the wall, while ushers rushed to find chairs for others. A steady buzz of conversation blended with the click click of ineffective fans and the sounds of traffic. It was only November, and the day was unusually hot for Hobart.

Mollie, Liam, and Pete sat in the front row. When Claire’s body was back in Paradise Cove, the family would have their own service. They would want a Mass. Mollie glanced down at her buzzing phone. It was Paul, a hug emoji. Thank goodness for her brother. Nothing from her mom or dad. The phone buzzed again. Auntie Jean and Uncle Will. Reminding her that they loved her. Tears welled up again. Would they ever stop? Claire’s mom and dad would watch the live stream and then Uncle Will would drive to Hervey Bay to … Pete struggled to his feet, shaking Mollie out of her glum thoughts. He juggled his crutches to fit under his arms and swung toward the box. Mollie couldn’t think of it as a coffin—it was too final. She moved to stand, but Liam put a hand on her arm, gently pushed her back into her seat.

Pete rested the crutches against the box, leaned against it, placed his hands where Claire’s head would be, as though cradling her face, and kissed the wood. He rested his forehead there for a few seconds. Mollie stifled a sob as he pushed away, tucked the crutches under his arms, and swung back to his seat.

The worship band, minus Claire, was ready. Everyone stood. The celebration of Claire Malone’s short life began with one of her favorite songs, King of Kings.

The pastor cleared his throat. A few people shuffled. A few whispered. Mollie breathed in deeply. She needed to do this. For Claire. Her breath huffed out. Liam pressed her hand. She pushed to her feet as the tinkle of crystal wind chimes floated from all corners of the auditorium. The roll of an Irish bodhran joined the wind chimes, followed by swelling sounds of violin, guitar, and piano. The atmosphere in the church vibrated. Waiting.

Mollie stood beside Claire’s box, rested a hand on it, closed her eyes, and lifted her face to the light that streamed through the high diamond-shaped windows, splashing glitter through the tears slipping down Mollie’s pale cheeks. Her voice rose strong and pure as she sang the song she and Claire had declared years ago they would sing for each other to say goodbye. Neither dreamed that day would come so soon.

‘... whatever befall, still be Thou my vision, O ruler of all.’ The words faded. The wind chimes died away as photos of Claire flashed across a large screen, her generous smile a thank you to everyone for coming. People moved slowly toward the refreshment room, a few gently pressing Mollie’s shoulder as she rested her head on the box. The funeral directors approached. One checked his watch and glanced at Liam.

‘Mollie.’

Mollie lifted her head and turned into Liam’s arms. He wrapped her tight and nodded to the waiting men. It was time for Claire to go home to Queensland.

It was late afternoon when they stepped out of the church hall. The blazing sun of earlier had disappeared; a few leaves swirled together with dust from the gray pavement, dancing away down Davey Street in the still-warm breeze. Work was finishing for many, and Mollie tried to push down the anger that threatened to spill over when three young women hurried past, arm-in-arm, heads together, laughing happily at something. There was an almost inaudible rumble just before Mollie climbed into the car. She glanced toward Mount Wellington. It loomed beast-like over the city, partly hidden in seething silver-shot clouds. Mollie shuddered.

‘Let’s go. Come on, Pete.’

Mollie flicked the light switch and stopped in the doorway to the little flat. It wasn’t right. Nothing was right anymore. She wanted to run. This was ridiculous. She had to get a grip. A huge shudder shook her slight frame. She turned—and Liam was there. 

‘Mollie, you’re letting the bugs in. Come on, let’s get inside.’ He pressed a kiss to her moist forehead.

‘So empty, so empty.’ Her murmurings floated off into the room. The room that had been a favorite meeting place for the four of them. She patted Liam’s shoulder, lifted her head, and smiled.

‘Right, I know it’s hot, but I’m having tea. If you two want something cold, I can make an iced chocolate, or coffee, and there’s kombucha. Claire …’ She threw up her hands. It was only Liam and Pete. Why was she rambling? ‘I’ll get what we always have. It’s easier that way.’ She pressed her lips together for a second before whirling into the other room.

From the kitchen, Mollie tried to hear what Pete and Liam were talking about. She needed to ask Pete about the crash. But it was too hard. What did details matter anyway? Claire was dead. There, she’d said the word. Dead. She banged the drawers shut so hard the cutlery chattered. She flung the cupboard open. Claire’s mug was at the front of the shelf. Mollie lifted it out. Cradled it in her hands. Her body softened as she leaned against the bench. Running a finger over the raised bears circling the mug, she took a deep breath, carefully placed the mug back at the front of the shelf and took out three others.

Lights were coming on across the city by the time they settled with their drinks. From one window, the flat had superb views right across the harbor. It was unusual for where they were as most houses had barely a glimpse of the water. It was the water views that drew Mollie and Claire when they first saw the flat. Hobart was as far away from Paradise Cove as they could get, and Claire had insisted that while she could do without the sand, she couldn’t survive without seeing the water every day. This was a gift from God, Claire had said. Her old recliner still sat by the window. Mollie chose a seat on the couch beside Liam, wanting his closeness, needing it to hold her together.

‘I asked Claire to marry me, Mollie.’

Mollie carefully placed her mug on the little square table beside the couch. As she turned back, Liam’s arm dropped across her shoulders, drawing her close again. Pete was staring into his coffee cup as though he might find some answers there.

‘She was so excited.’ He lowered the mug to the floor, leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, and dropped his face into his hands. When he looked up again, his cheeks glistened in the muted lamplight. ‘You were right. She did love the ring.’ His attempt to smile failed. Mollie wanted to go to him, but Liam pressed her shoulder just a little to hold her back.

‘She wanted to meet you coming off your shift, Mollie. She couldn’t wait to tell you. We couldn’t wait to tell you.’ He tried to smile. ‘We were so happy.’

Liam and Mollie leaned forward as Pete’s voice dropped. Mollie smiled a thank you at Liam when he grasped her hand.

Pete closed his eyes as though in pain. ‘We were laughing. I remember Claire saying you wouldn’t be surprised, Mollie … then out of nowhere, a pickup truck roared up behind us. He was going way too fast. There was no time. I couldn’t … couldn’t get out of the way.’ Pete stopped, tried to slow his breathing, and Mollie found herself doing the same. Her head spun, and the room seemed foggy. But Pete was talking again. Focus, Mollie. Focus. She forced herself to breathe with steady rhythm.

‘I couldn’t get out of the way, and somehow we spun around, and the pickup truck rammed us again. Into Claire’s side.’ He rubbed his hands over his face, and the groan that escaped him echoed eerily in the room once filled with laughter and happiness. ‘That’s all I remember until waking in the ambulance.’

Should she ask? Pete said he couldn’t remember, but he must know something about the person in the car that killed Claire. Someone would have told him. Mollie was torn. Peter looked so forlorn, so sad. But she wanted to know. She leaned forward again, felt Liam tense beside her.

‘And the driver of the pickup truck? What …?’

Pete didn’t hesitate. ‘There were two of them. High on ice apparently.’ His voice rose, and he clenched his fists. ‘And God help me, but I’m glad they died in the crash. I know, I know it’s wrong. I should forgive. I shouldn’t be glad. But I am. They deserved to die. Claire didn’t.’ He thumped the arms of the chair hard and tried to get up, swearing in frustration as he fell back again.

Liam jumped up, reached out a hand to his best friend, and pulled him to his feet. Anger gnawed its way through Mollie’s insides as she thought of Pete’s suffering, of the lives destroyed; as she thought of the futures they would never have, the shattered dreams. How would they survive this? How would she survive without her best friend, without the one person who had always been there for her?

The phone rang just as they waved Pete off. Mollie grabbed it, sure her dad was finally calling.

‘Mollie, love? It’s Uncle Will.’

Dear Uncle Will. Of course it wasn’t Dad. Why would she even think it would be? Mollie held the phone away from her ear and put it on speaker. Uncle Will always yelled when he called. ‘You’re a long way away,’ was his usual reply when they told him to stop shouting. ‘I’m making sure you can hear me way down there.’ Mollie and Claire had always giggled about that, but now it was only Mollie—and Liam.

‘Claire’s here, love. She arrived safely.’

Mollie’s breath hitched. Liam took the phone and spoke to Will. And then Paul, Mollie’s brother, was talking. Paul. At least he had always been there for her. Mollie did her best to stop sobbing. She covered her mouth and tried to breathe through her nose while Paul and Liam talked. Liam turned off speaker mode and pulled Mollie to him in a one-armed hug. She turned her face into his shoulder and collapsed against him.

‘I’ll tell her, Paul. Sure. Tomorrow. I’ll let her know.’

Mollie didn’t have the energy to ask what they were talking about.

Chapter 2

Before she was fully awake, Mollie was aware of tears leaking from her eyes. The cuckoo clock reminded her it was morning. She was stretched out in the old recliner, a light blanket tucked neatly around her. Liam must have put her here. Or maybe she had found her way here in the night. Most mornings she woke up in the lumpy chair. A sigh escaped her. She scrubbed her cheeks with one hand and twitched a curtain with the other. Gray sky, gray water, gray city. Hard to know where inside ended and outside began.

She should eat. When was the last time? Breakfast yesterday? No, that was Claire’s … She shook her head. What did it matter? Her watch reminded her she should stand. As she pushed the footrest in on the chair, her Zumba shoes appeared. Zumba. That’s what she needed. If she hurried, she could be there for the six thirty class. Movement helped. Something to think about helped. Anything was better than sitting in the flat, the sounds of silence echoing around her, mocking her.

Within minutes, Mollie was jogging down the hill to the highway, marking time at the traffic lights, dashing across as soon as the walk sign flashed to race past the hospital and down to the gym.

Mollie flung herself through the doors, pulling up quickly when Steph, the owner, popped up from behind the reception desk.

‘Mollie! Just the person I need.’

Mollie eyed Steph warily, taking a moment to catch her breath before responding. Steph and Mollie had clicked the first day Mollie burst into the gym. It was Steph who encouraged Mollie to do the training to be a Zumba instructor when she noticed Mollie was often up on stage with the other instructors.

‘Can you take the six thirty class?’

Mollie gaped at Steph. ‘This one? You mean the one that starts in a few minutes?’

Steph just smiled.

Mollie rolled her eyes and grinned. She sure could take the class. This early one was high-energy, and she loved it. It meant she could forget everything else, even if only for an hour.

Mollie pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Something niggled at her memory. Paul and Liam. She couldn’t think. Well, if it was important, Liam would tell her, or Paul would call again. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed a jacket, and wandered to the kitchen to grab a muesli bar. Another afternoon shift. Mollie glared at the cuckoo clock, daring it to mock her with an appearance that reminded her it was time to leave for work. As if she needed a reminder. She wandered back to the tiny lounge room, jogged on the spot, and considered calling in sick. They wouldn’t be surprised. Meg was a great boss and had tried to get Mollie to take some time off, but Mollie was adamant that she wanted to work. What was the point of taking time off? Her phone buzzed as she started doing squats. Liam. The warmth she felt was a welcome change from the squirmy gut and pounding heart that plagued her these days.

He was doing a double shift. Her fingers flew over the face of her phone, telling him she was working a late shift. Hopefully she would see him sometime this afternoon.

She waited. But no more messages came. Well, she couldn’t hover at the door forever. She poked her tongue out at the clock just as the doors burst open and the cuckoo popped out. Stupid bird!

The landlord’s front door clicked closed as she started down the stairs. She hadn’t seen Joe since before the funeral, so she couldn’t just dash off.

‘Joe! How are you?’

The elderly landlord called a greeting. His hand shook a little as he fumbled with the key.

‘Here, let me help, Joe.’ He willingly handed the key over as Mollie gave him a one-armed hug.

‘You’re a God-send, young Mollie.’ He dipped his head a little, compassion-filled eyes searching her face as he lifted an unsteady hand to pat her cheek.

Mollie stepped back. ‘Thanks, Joe. You’re pretty great yourself. Gotta go.’ She dropped the key into the basket of his walker, swung around, and hurried toward the gate. ‘I’ll leave the gate open for you. Enjoy your walk!’ And she was gone.

She used to jog to work, running on the spot while she waited for a red light to change, looking forward to the buzz of the busy ED. Now Mollie hoped for a red light at the highway crossing. If she stretched it out long enough, she would just make it in time for handover. Her feet wanted to take her past the hospital and on to the gym. She stopped a few meters back from the entrance to the ED. It was so hard to breathe. Why couldn’t she take a deep breath? She leaned both hands on the concrete planter box and tried to suck in some air. Her heart was pounding, and her feet pressed up and down, heel, toe, heel, toe. Breathe, Mollie. If she wasn’t at work, she would have to be at home—what used to be home. Or the gym. It was too late to call in sick—or was it? She should have done it when she thought of it before.

‘Mollie!’

Eric, Liam’s friend, loped toward her. He was in uniform, so that meant they were still ramping. When ambulances and paramedics were stuck at the hospital because there was no room for their patients, people in the community couldn’t get emergency care as quickly as they needed it. And it was getting worse. Mollie’s thoughts ran, as they always did these days, to that night. If the ambulance crew had arrived sooner, would it have made any difference? She shook her head and huffed out a breath. Stop it, Mollie.

‘Hey.’ Eric was beside her now. ‘I’ll walk you in.’ He stepped toward the self-opening doors and turned to her, head to one side. ‘Come on, Mollie.’

Mollie attempted a smile.

‘Liam’s patient was admitted, so his crew is out and about again. Lucky them.’ He held out a hand. ‘Come on. You don’t want to