Bettina nodded. ‘Of course, you’ll be moving your children in to Jean’s place.’
‘Oh. You know already?’
Bettina smiled showing a row of teeth jostling for a front row position. ‘Word gets around.’ She moved away.
Word got around all right and the only person who had a word to spread so fast was Flynn. She pressed her lips together. Flynn. She’d have to be very careful what she said around him. Mr Flynn’s Crossing wheeler-dealer.
Five minutes later her sandwich appeared. Very ordinary. White bread, plastic packaged cheese. Only the tomato was rich and tasty and that would be because it was locally grown by Simon and his friends.
‘I hear you’re after work,’ said Bettina as she cleared the next table.
Antonia hid the jolt of surprise by pretending the tomato had burnt her tongue. She swallowed, collecting her thoughts.
‘Yes. You don’t have anything here, I suppose?’
‘Sorry, darl. It’s only me, and Shazza out the back doing the cooking.’
Antonia nodded. ‘Oh well, if you ever need a break or something …’
‘Try the Paragon. Across the road and along about a hundred metres. I think Cath might be in need of help. She’s had a bit of trouble with the girl she had.’ She leaned closer. ‘Fingers in the till.’
‘Really? My goodness. Was she a local girl?’
‘From Kurrajong—that’s the next town but no one’s surprised, given the family she comes from. Cardews. Drunks and thieves, the lot of them. Cath tried to do the girl a good turn and look what she gets by way of thanks.’ She wandered off with her load of dirty dishes and gossip.
Cath at the Paragon. Antonia swallowed the remains of her sandwich and stood up. She took her plate and glass to the counter and paid Bettina.
‘Thanks, darl. See you again, no doubt.’
‘Probably.’ Or not.
Cath at the Paragon was a small wiry blonde with a big smile and a red-checked apron over blue denim shorts and a red sleeveless shirt.
‘You must be Antonia,’ she said when she spied Antonia hovering just inside the door. The place was full of chattering customers eating food that shamed Bettina’s toasted sandwich effort.
‘Yes, I am.’ This time she was prepared. If Bettina knew about her, just about everyone else would too.
‘Thought so. Flynn said you’d be in.’
Flynn again. If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect he was a spy for her mother.
‘I heard you may have a job vacancy.’
‘Can you waitress?’
‘Yes.’ She held Cath’s eye firmly. She’d served pizzas the summer before she was … That counted.
‘When can you start?’
‘Um … when suits you?’
‘Now?’ Cath laughed and gestured at the crowd. ‘I’m flat chat.’
Antonia sucked in a deep breath. ‘Okay. Tell me what to do.’
If Cath was surprised she swallowed it quickly. ‘Leave your bag out the back and grab an apron. I’ll show you.’
***
At four-thirty Cath closed the door and locked it behind the stragglers. Antonia cleared the last table and took the tray to the kitchen where Len was wiping down the cooktop.
‘Last lot,’ she said.
‘In the dishwasher, thanks, love.’
Cath came in with a handful of cash. ‘Here you go, Antonia. Your pay. Three hours.’
Antonia straightened and took the notes. Three hours? The time had raced by. She stared at the money in her hand. Her very first pay in her new home. The symbol of her new life. Her throat clogged suddenly.
‘Sorry,’ said Cath. ‘It’s not much but …’
Antonia swallowed and sniffed. ‘No, no … it’s plenty. I’m just … really happy … to have a job.’
‘So you’ll be back tomorrow?’ asked Len. ‘We haven’t frightened you off?’
‘Oh!’ She pressed a hand to her mouth. They were expecting her full-time. ‘I’m so sorry—I can come in the morning but I have to sign the lease in the afternoon and leave the day after to organise …’ She stopped in a muddle of confusion and dismay. Had she blown her new job already? Hadn’t Flynn explained she hadn’t moved yet?
Cath patted her on the shoulder. ‘It’s fine. Dad, don’t bully her. She has to move herself into Jean’s old house and get her kids settled. She can’t work here and do that at the same time.’
‘Sorry, love.’ Les grinned. ‘I came over all excited; it was so nice to have a pretty face around instead of that shocker Cath hired. Bloody nightmare she was, with her tattoos and nose rings and what have you.’
‘Don’t start,’ Cath said. She turned to Antonia. ‘When do you think you’ll be ready? I could sure use you as soon as possible. You saw how busy we are and it’ll be like this till the weather cools. You did well today. Thanks for jumping right in.’
‘I need to go back to Sydney and pack up. I don’t have any furniture or anything so I’ll have to buy beds and chairs. Kitchen stuff …’ The task seemed overwhelming all of a sudden. On her own. She’d insisted she could do it by herself but could she? Her mother would have a fit if she saw the mango tree house before she’d had a chance to do some work on it.
‘If you don’t mind second-hand, we can ask around for some things to get you started,’ said Len. ‘Make a list of what you need and we’ll see what we can rustle up.’
‘You don’t need to do that.’
‘It’s how it works in the country,’ he said. ‘We’re real stickybeaks and know all about each other’s business, but we help each other out too.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ said Cath with her big bright smile. ‘Not having any privacy.’
Antonia managed a weak smile. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind second-hand.’
Out on the street now baking in the late afternoon sun, earned money in her purse, a house and a job, Antonia had a surge of optimism. Cath and Len were friendly and welcoming, knew her circumstances and arranged her shifts accordingly. The Paragon opened for breakfast and lunch five days per week and closed Sunday and Monday but Cath knew Saturday would be difficult for a single mother with school-age children, at least at first until they made friends.
‘See how we go,’ she said. ‘You might be able to get a sitter for them.’
Antonia mumbled her agreement, knowing that wouldn’t happen for a long time. Sarah and Jacob were wary of strangers, especially adult males, but they were gradually learning that most people weren’t like the monster they’d spent the first years of their lives with—the only man they’d known until their grandfather burst into their lives.
They knew their captor wasn’t their father, she’d told them right from the start that whatever he said, and although he insisted they call him ‘father’, he wasn’t. It was a secret they must never tell. ‘One day,’ she’d whisper to them. ‘You’ll meet your real father. His name is Simon.’
She smiled. And Simon had turned out to be as thrilled to be a father as the twins would be to finally meet him. She crossed the road and began walking to her car still parked outside Bettina’s cafe.
What she really wanted to do was cook. When she knew Cath and Len better, she’d ask … Len could teach her a lot. He used to work in Brisbane as a chef, he told her. He’d trained with the best but tossed it in to come back where he’d grown up. ‘I love it here,’ he said. ‘And I talked Cath into coming after her marriage collapsed. The less said about that loser the better. Wasted the best years of her life on him,’ he muttered.
‘Afternoon.’
The voice pulled her up short. Flynn. Again. Where had he sprung from? She’d been walking without noticing where she was. She glanced around and saw real estate photos stuck in the window of a nearby shopfront. His agency.
‘Hello.’
He smiled that lazy, charming smile which didn’t fool her one bit. At the same time as being Mr Casual he was assessing her, wondering if he could sell her the mango tree h
ouse, how much commission he could screw out of the sale.
‘How’d it go with Cath?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ The euphoria of her little success fizzled. He put her on edge, wary and suspicious.
He nodded. ‘Good.’
‘I can’t do weekends. I’ll need to find something else when the Paragon is closed.’
‘Okay.’
She frowned. ‘Okay? What does that mean?’
‘I’ll ask around.’
‘I can do that myself, thank you.’
‘I know everyone in town and who’s more likely to have work.’ He kept his gaze firmly on her face. The skin around his eyes had crinkles from being outdoors. Like her dad. ‘I thought I could be helpful.’
She licked her lips and moved into the shade of the overhanging shopfront. ‘Cath said I’d get used to everybody …’
‘Helping out?’
‘Knowing everyone’s business.’
‘Well, I suppose for a city girl that’s hard to get your head around, but if you’re going to live here that’s part of the deal.’ The smile stayed in place but the tone had sharpened.
‘I’m sorry.’ She grimaced and rubbed her fingers lightly on her forehead. They came away sticky with sweat. ‘I’m so sorry. Thank you. You are being helpful. And everyone has been friendly and kind.’ She sneaked a quick, anxious look at his face. ‘I do want to live here. I … I like it.’
The assessing look had gone replaced by one that surprised her—remorse.
‘No. I’m sorry, Antonia. That was rude and unfair. You have every right to live wherever you like. Believe me, I’m not trying to pry into your affairs,’ he said. ‘Just getting to know you.’
An apology from Flynn. That was unexpected and difficult to deal with. He was confusing, very confusing. Why on earth would he want to get to know her? There was nothing to know.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, looking at her feet and wishing he’d go away. Her car was a hundred metres along outside the Bluebird Cafe. He’d probably want to walk with her, asking questions she couldn’t answer, making her uncomfortable.
‘Would you like a lift to Simon’s for dinner this evening? He invited me too.’
Her chin lifted abruptly. ‘Simon did?’ Why would he do that? Why include Flynn more than necessary?
‘Yes. We’re friends.’
‘Oh.’ She swallowed. She’d forgotten about friendships, that easy camaraderie she’d had with her schoolmates—boys and girls. She’d have to relearn. Especially about men.
‘I thought seeing as we’re both going to the same place from the same place we could travel together. And there’s a lot of wildlife on the road at night. Dangerous if you’re not used to it. Storm coming too.’
Put that way it was supremely logical, but Flynn always managed to sound logical. She couldn’t keep up.
‘You might want to stay later,’ she said weakly.
‘I’ll be happy to leave whenever you want to.’
Standing in the street arguing over something so petty as a lift suddenly struck her as ridiculous. He wasn’t going to abduct her. Simon said to trust him and trust Flynn. She had to start somewhere or her mother would be proved right—that she wasn’t ready or capable to go it on her own. If she was to live in Flynn’s Crossing she had to make friends.
‘All right. Thank you,’ she said loudly and clearly. Too loudly.
Flynn grinned. ‘Right. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to seven.’ He turned to go.
‘Flynn, what should I take? Do they drink wine?’
He stopped. ‘Sure do. I was going to take a red.’
‘Should I take a white wine then?’
‘Good idea.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see you later.’
She walked to her car, keeping in the shade of the shopfronts because the afternoon sun was scorching. She needed a hat. A teenage girl said ‘hello’ as she went by, a woman coming out of the chemist shop said, ‘Hot one today,’ two little boys slurping ice-creams nearly crashed into her as they barrelled out of the supermarket with their mother yelling, ‘Be careful,’ from inside then rolling her eyes at Antonia with a resigned grin.
All normal, friendly people. No perverted, lunatic criminals. Although—with a little spurt of laughter she remembered Bettina’s comment—there were the … what was their name? The drunken, criminal Cardews from the next town.
***
The storm didn’t eventuate though rain looked imminent when Flynn drove to the motel. Antonia was waiting under a poinciana out the front. She clutched a bottle-shaped brown paper bag in her hand, waiflike and lonely, slim in her pink dress with her long brown hair hanging loose. Was she lonely? She had two children who must have a father somewhere. Some loser who’d made her pregnant and left. Raped her? Possible. It would explain the jumpy wariness, the lack of confidence and the anxiety when she thought she’d offended him.
But her twins were five. Maybe she’d been in an abusive relationship and only just escaped. That would make more sense. And she’d sought out an old schoolfriend, Simon, knowing he lived in a little corner of paradise. Simon was safe. He wouldn’t harm anyone or anything and he was very pleased to have her here. Anyone with half an eye could see that. Why was that thought so shamefully displeasing?
Flynn stopped the BMW beside her and jumped out to open her door.
‘You look lovely.’ He would have said something similar regardless of the woman or her appearance, but belying the glibness of the compliment, he really meant the words. She was lovely with an innocence all her own, childlike with an air of having experienced suffering. As a teenage mother; that was understandable, but he sensed more.
A deep flush stained her cheeks. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, dropping her gaze to the bottle in her hand. She held it out. ‘Will this be all right? The man at the shop said it would.’
He gave the label a quick look, hoping Jordan hadn’t taken advantage of her naivety and sold her the most expensive wine in the place. He hadn’t.
‘That’s perfect. Good choice.’
The little smile appeared, pleasing him far more than he expected. ‘He chose, not me.’
‘Right.’ He laughed. ‘But you can pretend you chose.’
The smile widened, lighting her eyes. ‘I couldn’t fool Simon. He knows I know nothing about wine.’
He ushered her into the car. When they were underway, he said, ‘When did you and Simon meet?’
‘We went to the same high school.’
‘Boyfriend?’
‘For a while, but we broke up.’
‘But stayed friends.’
‘Of course.’
She didn’t elaborate as to why that would be the case. He wasn’t friends with any of his exes. The farther away they were the better. Except Lou, but she didn’t really count as an ex. She lived in the apartment next door when he’d lived in Brisbane, and she was still there. They dated once and acknowledged there was nothing more there than a genuine friendship. Pure and simple.
‘Are you friends with all your old boyfriends?’
She nodded but her cheeks had turned pink again.
‘The twins’ father?’
Another nod. ‘Do you have a … a …’
‘Girlfriend?’ he supplied.
‘Yes, but girlfriend doesn’t seem like the right word.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’re too … it’s a bit … high school.’
He laughed. ‘What you’re trying to say is I’m too old to have a girlfriend?’
‘No! Of course you’re not, but the word … isn’t right.’
‘Well, I don’t know what word is right but the answer is no, I don’t have a significant other. Female or male.’ He slid her a quick sideways look and found her watching him. ‘And I’m thirty-three. Is that too old?’
He concentrated on the driving again. The rain had begun in a steady grey drizzle, obscuring vision. This stretch was winding and hilly with thick vegetation coming close to th
e roadside. Kangaroos and other wildlife were likely to appear at any moment and the last thing he wanted was to hit something.
‘Ten years older than I am,’ she murmured.
‘Ancient.’
As he’d hoped, that brought the laugh that delighted him at the Tracey house when they discussed the mango tree.
As if reading his mind, she said, ‘I love that house, and Jacob and Sarah will too. I can’t wait to move in. Thank you for letting me have it.’
‘It’s my job, one of them,’ he said but the heartfelt way she spoke touched him. A run-down house with peeling paint and an overgrown garden. She was easily pleased.
‘What else do you do? Simon said you’re the Mr Big of Flynn’s Crossing.’
Gone was the tentative anxious girl. Was she teasing him? Flirting? No, not Antonia. She didn’t flirt. She was asking because she wanted to know, not because she had ulterior motives—concerning him. Get a grip! Ignore the fact she was sitting there, pretty in pink with a light perfume addling his brain and her …
‘I own the pub and a bit of land here and there and the real estate office. I’m also chairman of the town council.’
‘Do you live in the pub?’
‘I have an office there but no, I have a house on the other side of town. Someone manages the pub for me. Donna.’
‘How long have you lived here?’
‘Eight years.’
‘Where were you before that?
‘Here and there. I moved around, went overseas for a bit. I started out in Toowoomba.’
‘Is that where your parents are?’
‘They were, but now they live in Fremantle.’
‘Gosh, that’s a big move.’
She’d been firing questions at him but he didn’t mind, he liked that she was relaxing in his company, that she was interested in him.
‘Yes, my mother came from there and they went back to visit her parents and decided they liked it better in the west.’
‘Why did you come here?’
‘Same reason as you. I liked it.’ He slowed for the entrance to the cooperative. ‘Have you met the others here?’
‘Only Lauren.’
Flynn parked the BMW outside Simon’s A-frame, but before he and Antonia could walk to the door Simon came out with an enormous grin and a big umbrella.
The House At Flynn's Crossing Page 4