Outback Sisters

by Rachael Johns

  And then he hurried down the hallway to his bedroom and shut the door behind him before swiping his finger across the screen to answer the phone. ‘Frankie!’

  ‘Hey there.’

  He took two strides to his bed and fell down on top of it, so damn pleased to hear her voice. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m good now,’ she said, ‘but I’ve been going insane since the wedding.’

  He grinned. ‘Me too. Can’t stop thinking about you. I think Angus is getting suspicious that something is up.’

  ‘I’ve barely been able to look at Simone. I feel so guilty for even thinking about you but …’

  ‘I know,’ he said when her voice trailed off. ‘We’ll work it out. But let’s not worry about it now. I just want to talk to you.’

  ‘Me too,’ she whispered as if someone might be in earshot.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asked.

  ‘At home.’

  ‘Then why are you whispering?’ he whispered.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She laughed and it sounded so beautiful that he racked his brain for jokes to tell her so he could hear it again. ‘There’s no-one here to eavesdrop except my cats.’

  ‘How are Fred and George?’ She’d told him about her kittens the night they made the cakes. They sounded like little rascals.

  ‘George is climbing up the curtains in my living room and—youch!’ she yelped. ‘Get down! Fred was climbing up my leg. They think their dinner is more important than talking to you.’

  ‘You’d better feed them. I don’t want them to eat you.’ If anyone was going to feast on her he wanted it to be him, but he swallowed that thought. He didn’t think they were quite at the phone-sex stage of their relationship just yet.

  ‘I will.’ Although he hadn’t seen her house, he imagined her walking down a small corridor into a warm kitchen swimming with cookbooks and cooking paraphernalia. ‘Thanks for the book.’

  ‘Have you read it?’ he asked as he heard a clatter in the background, followed by what he guessed to be the shaking of cat biscuits into bowls.

  ‘Nope. I told you, I’m way behind on my Aussie fiction.’

  ‘Well, Ruth Park isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but if you like that one, I’ve got plenty more you can borrow.’ Logan repositioned himself on the bed, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

  ‘That’d be great. How was your day?’

  ‘Ah you know … same old, same old. Angus and I are checking all the machinery over before harvest and I had to make some phone calls this arvo to line up some interviews for next week.’

  ‘You sound busy.’

  ‘No more than you, I suppose. How’s the café? Had any interesting characters come in lately?’ Another thing they’d talked about that night. He’d said she should write a book with the stories she’d told him.

  ‘Actually, yes. One lady was travelling through town in her caravan and she brought her dog inside the café.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  She chuckled. ‘It was a Great Dane and when I told her she’d have to leave him tied up outside and I could bring him out a bowl of water, she accused me of discrimination—saying that I let people bring their toddlers in and that the dog was her fur baby.’

  ‘What? That’s insane. People are crazy.’

  ‘I know. You must meet a fair few loonies in your job too.’

  ‘Nah, mostly people want to suck up to me,’ he admitted. ‘They’re scared of what I’ll write about them if they don’t.’

  ‘What would you write about me?’ she asked.

  ‘Now that’s easy.’ He cleared his throat and then spoke in a deep voice. ‘Headline: Sexy red-headed café owner makes rural journalist hot under the collar, and not just because she’s a red-hot cook.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit too long for a headline?’ she said, her tone amused.

  ‘Stuff the headline. Nothing I’d write about you would do you justice anyway.’

  ‘You’re making me blush.’

  ‘That I’d like to see,’ he said, muscles all over his body tightening at this confession. ‘You busy on Sunday?’

  She was quiet a moment, then, ‘I think this is where I’m supposed to play hard to get, but I hate games, so no, I’m not busy.’

  He laughed. ‘Good. I’ve got to go up to Carnarvon next week for a story. I was thinking if I head up on Sunday we could meet in Geraldton for lunch.’

  ‘That sounds … great. Where are we going?’

  He racked his brain but couldn’t think of any café or restaurant half as good as hers and he wanted their first date to be special. ‘It’s a surprise. I’ll text you details of where to meet me.’

  ‘Sounds mysterious. But I can’t wait.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  They talked for the next few hours without any pause. Frankie ate some quiche she’d brought home from the café while they chatted, but Logan didn’t bother sneaking out for lasagne; just listening to Frankie satisfied him enough. In fact, he could have talked all night long, but just before eleven, he said, ‘I suppose I’d better let you go and get some rest. Don’t want you falling asleep in the soup tomorrow.’

  She sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’

  But neither of them seemed inclined to hang up.

  ‘Sunday,’ he said after the first moment’s silence in over three hours.

  ‘Yes, Sunday.’ It sounded like she was smiling and that made him smile.

  ‘But I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’ It was a promise, not a question.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she replied and then they finally disconnected.

  Logan put his phone down on his bedside table and stretched out on the bed. He could not remember the last time he’d talked to a woman on the phone for that long. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to a woman in person for that long—well, aside from Frankie, the night before the wedding.

  And he couldn’t wait to talk to her again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  ‘Mum? Are you awake?’

  At the light pressure on her arm and Grace’s voice above her, Simone opened her eyes and then blinked at her daughter. Her head felt muzzy as she tried to sit up from the couch, where she’d been lying since just after lunch. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Just after four,’ Grace said, sitting down next to Simone. ‘Are you okay? You don’t look very well.’ Grace raised her hand and placed it on her mother’s head as Simone had done to her so many times when she was sick.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she told her, putting her own hand over Grace’s and then bringing it down to rest on her knee. ‘Just tired. I didn’t mean to nap for so long though.’

  Damn Angus. If thoughts of him weren’t keeping her awake at night, she wouldn’t have needed a nanna nap. Every time she closed her eyes, he appeared in her head—tall, rugged and naked as he had been the night before the wedding. Her mouth went dry, her insides twisted and her body temperature soared at the thought. Sometimes she even found herself half-wishing she was still going out with Logan so she could grill him about what Angus had been like since the wedding. Was he thinking about her—about their night together—as much as she was?

  The not knowing was making her loopy. Or loopier.

  ‘Did you have a good day at school?’ she asked, mentally telling Angus to take a hike.

  ‘Yep.’ Grace nodded. ‘Mrs Beaton gave me the highest mark in our class for our English essays.’

  ‘That’s awesome. I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. Can I have a snack? I’m starving.’

  ‘Sure, honey. There’s some of Frankie’s chocolate cake in the fridge.’

  ‘Yum,’ Grace said, leaping up with the kind of energy no adult ever had.

  Simone heaved herself up off the couch and followed her into the kitchen. ‘Where’s Harriet?’

  Grace frowned as she retrieved the container from the fridge. ‘She went to Alyssa’s from the bus. I thought you knew.’
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br />   ‘Nope.’ Simone shook her head, irritated by Harriet’s lack of communication and continuing disrespect, especially after last year’s high jinks. She had a good mind to drive over to Alyssa’s house and make a big scene about hauling Harriet home, but … she didn’t have the energy. Maybe she was sick, because right now all she wanted to do was head back to the couch.

  ‘Do you want a piece, Mum?’ Grace asked.

  Simone smiled. ‘No, thanks, honey.’ Frankie’s chocolate cake was something she usually couldn’t say no to but today the thought of eating made her want to throw up. ‘Do you need any help with your homework?’

  ‘No, we don’t have much, ’cos tomorrow is the sports carnival. Are you still coming?’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Simone said, hoping that by then she wouldn’t be feeling like death warmed up. ‘I’m just going to have a shower and text your sister. Thank God one of you is good to your mother.’ Simone leaned forward and kissed Grace on the forehead.

  Grace smiled and then sank her teeth into the cake as Simone headed for the bathroom. En route she messaged her older daughter, aware Harriet likely wouldn’t bother with a reply.

  I heard you’re at Alyssa’s. Next time it would be nice if you asked my permission before you go somewhere else after school. You might not think about anyone but yourself, but I happen to worry if I don’t know where you are. Be home for dinner. Frankie’s cooking. Love Mum.

  The knowledge her beloved Aunty Eff was making dinner would ensure Harriet came home in time to eat. Simone intended to tell her that if she didn’t start toeing the line, she could kiss goodbye to her boyfriend, because she’d be grounded for the rest of the year. She had never grounded either of her daughters—she’d always thought it sounded like such an American thing to do—but how else were you supposed to punish a sixteen-year-old who insisted on acting like she was twenty-one? Simone couldn’t help but wonder if Harriet would have been so much of a handful if Jason was still alive. Single-parenting was not for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure.

  With a sigh, Simone stepped into the bathroom and stripped. She was usually conservative with showers and encouraged her girls to be the same, but today she couldn’t bring herself to hurry. She needed the comforting warmth to refresh her. Finally, after about ten minutes, she turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself.

  ‘I thought you were never going to finish,’ Grace said, sneaking into the bathroom the moment Simone opened the door. ‘I need to pee.’

  Simone raised an eyebrow. ‘Since when do you two worry about things like privacy?’ For as long as she could remember her girls had been barging in on her in the shower and even Harriet still had the occasional conversation while one of them was on the toilet.

  ‘Mum!’ Grace looked horrified. Simone wondered if maybe she’d been too quick to think she wouldn’t go through the same awkward stage as her older sister. Then the door was shut in her face.

  She blinked and headed off to her bedroom to get dressed. When she emerged, Grace was in the living room watching TV. It was some show about teenage rock stars that held absolutely no appeal to Simone, so she decided to head out into her studio and try to make up some of the time she’d lost that afternoon.

  ‘I’m going to do some work,’ she called to Grace. ‘Can you come get me when Harriet comes home or Frankie arrives?’

  Grace didn’t look up from the TV but she raised her hand in acknowledgement. ‘Sure, Mum.’

  Simone lost herself in her latest textile project for the next hour and a half and was startled when the knock came on her shed door. The door opened and Gracie appeared.

  ‘Aunty Eff and Harriet are here.’

  ‘Oh good.’ Simone put down her scissors and stood.

  ‘I’m not sure you’re going to think that when you see Harriet.’

  Simone’s stomach clenched. ‘Why? What’s she done?’

  ‘I think you should come see for yourself.’

  Her heart hammering, she charged past Grace, up the garden path, not even caring about shutting the shed door, and stormed into the kitchen. Her eyes landed first on Frankie laying plates out on the bench and then she turned to see Harriet half in the fridge, drinking straight from the juice bottle.

  ‘What the hell have you done to your hair?’ she yelled, unable to believe the sight before her.

  Harriet put the lid back on the juice, returned it to the shelf, shut the fridge door, slowly turned to face her mother and then shrugged. ‘I dyed it blue.’

  Feeling her blood pressure rising, Simone put her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t be smart with me, young lady. I’m not colourblind. I’ll rephrase my question. Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to dye your hair blue?’

  Harriet narrowed her eyes, thrust her shoulders back and stuck out her chin as she flicked her fingers through the ends of her long blue hair. ‘Jaxon loves it.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s okay then,’ Simone snapped. ‘Never mind what your mother thinks. As long as Jaxon approves.’

  ‘Mum, don’t be so boring. I swear you act twice as old as you actually are.’

  ‘Harriet—a word of aunterly advice,’ piped up Frankie from where she was dishing out her pumpkin, spinach and ricotta cannelloni. ‘Now might be a good time to be quiet.’

  ‘I thought you were at Alyssa’s,’ Simone said, forcing herself to calm her breathing. If Harriet gave her one more word of cheek, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist picking up something hard and hurling it at her.

  ‘I was, but Jaxon and Brad were there too,’ Harriet said like it was nothing at all and Simone decided there and then that it was time to show her daughter who was in charge around here.

  ‘You know very well you are not supposed to see Jaxon outside of school without my permission. I would have thought you’d know that dyeing your hair without talking to me about it first was also a no-no.’ She sighed. ‘Honestly, Harriet, you leave me no choice. I’m grounding you for a month. You’ll go to school and come home and don’t even bother asking me if you can go to anyone’s house or have a friend over here because the answer will be no.’

  ‘What? You can’t do that!’ Harriet’s hands flew to her hips, echoing Simone’s stance.

  ‘I think I just did,’ Simone replied with a smug smile.

  ‘But it’s Alyssa’s birthday party on Saturday night. Everyone is going to be there.’

  ‘Everyone except you.’

  ‘That’s not fair. I hate you.’ Harriet turned and ran from the kitchen. A few seconds later they heard her bedroom door slam.

  Simone inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to scream after her that the feeling was mutual. She loved her daughter but she didn’t like her very much at the moment.

  ‘I promise I’ll never dye my hair blue,’ Grace said as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. ‘And if she doesn’t come back, can I have her serving of cannelloni?’

  ‘No,’ Simone sighed, her fury easing. ‘She needs to eat. We’ll leave it for when she’s calmed down.’

  ‘It’s all right, Grace,’ Frankie said as she brought the first two plates to the table. ‘I made plenty. If you’re still hungry after this, you can have seconds.’

  Grace smiled up at Frankie and stretched across the table to grab the bowl of salad. ‘Thanks, Aunty Eff.’

  Simone looked down at the plate in front of her and just knew she wasn’t going to be able to stomach much of it.

  ‘Shall I get you a glass of wine?’ Frankie asked, turning to the fridge. ‘I could do with one myself. It’s been a long week.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Simone nodded and within a few moments Frankie had poured the glass, given it to Simone and sat down again with her own drink. Simone found that even her favourite chardonnay didn’t taste good. She wished she could just crawl into bed and forget about today. No, scrap that, she wished she could crawl into bed and forget about the last two weeks, but peace wouldn’t come with slumber, only Angus, so maybe she should pe
rsevere with the wine.

  As Frankie’s and Grace’s cutlery scraped across the plates, Simone picked up her glass again. ‘So, how’s you, Frank? Anything interesting happening I should know about?’

  ‘Um … Not exactly.’

  Simone raised an eyebrow; Frankie had deliberated too long. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I wonder how Adam and Stella are going on their honeymoon?’

  ‘I ran into Aunty Esther yesterday morning when she was dropping Heidi at school. She looked exhausted but said they’d heard from the newlyweds and they were having a wonderful time but missing Heidi.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Frankie said. ‘But Stella really deserves a holiday.’

  ‘They both do. Esther wants to clean the house and make sure everything is nice for them before they come home on Monday, so I told her I’d take the girls over on Sunday and help. Want to come?’

  ‘Um …’ That look of discomfort flashed across Frankie’s face and this time Simone was certain she hadn’t imagined it. ‘I can’t this Sunday.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Um …’

  ‘Would you quit saying “um” and fill me in.’

  ‘Well …’ Frankie inhaled and then let out her breath slowly. ‘I’m going on a date on Sunday.’

  ‘What?’ Simone didn’t know what she’d been expecting but it wasn’t that.

  ‘Go, Aunty Eff!’ Grace cheered, lifting her arm to offer Frankie a high five. ‘What’s his name?’

  Frankie laughed nervously and high fived her back.

  ‘Do we know him?’ Simone asked.

  Again Frankie took her time answering. ‘I met him on Rural Matchmakers.’

  Harriet chose that moment to return to the kitchen. ‘Met who on Rural Matchmakers?’ she asked, sitting down at the table and making a show of not looking at her mother. Which was just fine, as Simone didn’t want to look at her blue hair right now either.

  ‘Aunty Eff’s got a boyfriend.’

  ‘He’s not a boyfriend,’ Frankie said, ‘just someone I’m … pursuing.’

  ‘Let’s hope you have better luck than she had with Logan.’