Outback Sisters

by Rachael Johns

  ‘Of course she has a name but not one you need to know. And if you don’t mind I’d prefer you didn’t say anything to Logan. He knows her and I just … Well, I don’t need him ribbing me about it.’ Worry made him sound harsher than he meant to.

  ‘I promise I won’t say a word but if she’s making you tense, I really think you should do something about it.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not going to happen.’

  ‘Because of the kids?’

  He nodded, not meeting Liv’s eye. ‘Too much hassle. Her daughter was the reason I was late today.’

  ‘I thought you were late because you had a meeting.’

  ‘That was earlier. I met with the wind-farming developers that Logan is so gung-ho about to try to get some more information—that’s a secret by the way. The meeting ran late but then Harriet waylaid me even more.’ He realised his mistake the moment he said this.

  Liv’s eyes sparkled at this nugget of information. ‘And Harriet is this mystery woman’s child?’

  ‘Yes, one of them.’ Angus racked his brain for a way to redirect the conversation. ‘So, what do you think about wind-farming?’

  But Liv was not going to be deterred. ‘How did this Harriet make you late?’

  With a sigh, he told her about finding the girl—blue hair and all—on the side of the highway as she tried to hitch her way to Perth.

  ‘She sounds like quite a character,’ Liv said, smiling, when he’d finished the story. ‘And it sounds like you were really good with her. Maybe a solid male role figure is just what she needs in her life and maybe her mother is—’

  ‘Stop.’ Angus held up his hand for her to be quiet before she could finish her sentence. He’d come here to try to forget about Simone and so far she’d dominated not only his thoughts but much of the evening’s conversation.

  ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry.’ Olivia smirked, not sounding sorry at all. ‘Tell me about the wind-farming thing instead. Are you coming round to Logan’s way of thinking?’

  Angus still wasn’t sure what he thought, but this topic was much safer than the alternative, so he took another sip of his beer, sat back in his chair and endeavoured to answer the question.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Although the café was closed on Mondays, Frankie still had cooking and preparation to do for the week ahead, but she wanted to speak to Simone first. She couldn’t go another day, another hour, without telling her sister the truth about herself and Logan—that they’d fallen in love.

  She’d barely slept last night, despite her energetic weekend, and had been unable to stomach breakfast that morning, but she needed to wait until Harriet and Grace had left for school before making her confession. This was not a conversation she wanted to have within earshot of her impressionable nieces.

  ‘Do you think I’m doing the right thing?’ she asked Fred, who leaped onto the table where she’d been sitting for the last half an hour staring at the microwave clock.

  In response, he nuzzled his furry head and wet nose against her chin and rubbed, purring loudly.

  ‘What choice do I have?’ she asked as George jumped up beside his brother. These two were inseparable—they ate together, played together, slept together and she reckoned if cats talked, they’d tell each other everything. Exactly like she and Simone had always been. And she wanted to get back to that. Having Logan to play with and confide in was magic, but she didn’t want to lose her other best friend in the process.

  ‘You’re right.’ She pushed back the chair, stood and stared down at her two adorable cats. ‘Just do it. It works for Nike, right?’

  They looked up at her blankly but she guessed felines didn’t have much call for sportswear. After ensuring they had full bowls of water and clean litter trays, she collected her phone and keys, took a big breath and then walked the short distance to Simone’s house.

  Her heart was racing by the time she arrived, and it wasn’t from exertion. Shivering despite the pleasant September morning sun, she walked—one foot, then the next—up to the door and knocked. This was something she never did because she had a key and usually it was unlocked anyway; she always showed herself in.

  She waited, her foot tapping against the doormat, for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only about fifteen seconds, before the door swung back and Simone appeared, still wearing her pyjamas.

  ‘Frank, I’m glad you’re here,’ she exclaimed, making no comment about the fact that she’d knocked. ‘There’s something we need to talk about.’

  Wasn’t that supposed to be my line?

  Simone dragged her into the house and all but slammed the door behind them. ‘Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea? Diet Coke?’

  Is it too early for wine? Oh, this is ridiculous. She just needed to get it off her chest. Whatever she imagined Simone might say was likely far worse than the reality. Knowing her sister, she’d just laugh and ask if he was good in bed. Want to know what she’d missed out on.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘And thanks for the message about Harriet.’ Late Friday night, Simone had texted telling her that Harriet had tried to run away but that all was good now, so not to worry and just enjoy the weekend. ‘I can’t believe she did that. Are you sure it’s all good now?’

  Simone smiled, but she seemed a little agitated. ‘Yes, we had a good chat,’ she said as she headed for the kitchen.

  Frankie followed, wondering how the heck to open this conversation.

  ‘I haven’t got any milk, sorry,’ Simone said as she grabbed two mugs and flicked on the kettle. ‘You don’t mind black coffee?’

  Something weird was definitely going on. Sure Simone was scatty at times, but it was like she hadn’t even registered Frankie’s answer. ‘I already said I don’t want a drink.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Simone turned away from the counter and gestured to the table in the middle of the kitchen. ‘Sit then.’

  She pulled back a chair and sat but Simone leaned against the bench, remaining standing. Now that they were at different eye levels, Frankie felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for punishment and that wasn’t how she wanted this conversation to go.

  ‘I had a good weekend,’ she found herself saying—not exactly the way she’d planned on starting the discussion, but anyway.

  Simone held up a hand. ‘Look, Frankie, I really do want to hear all about your weekend, but—’ she paused a moment and for some reason it looked like she was fighting tears ‘—I won’t be able to concentrate until I tell you this. I need to get it off my chest.’

  A horrible thought landed in Frankie’s head. Had Simone already found out about her seeing Logan somehow? ‘Tell me what?’

  Simone inhaled deeply and then let out a long breath. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Frankie’s heart turned to ice and the cold spread through her body like nits through a kindergarten. She pressed a hand against her stomach, feeling as if she were about to be sick. ‘But you told me you didn’t sleep with Logan.’ And he’d promised her things had never gotten to that stage either.

  ‘It’s not Logan’s.’

  ‘What? Then who?’ She was torn between utter relief and even more shock. And here she’d been thinking she was the one with secrets.

  ‘It’s Angus’s,’ Simone confessed.

  Frankie couldn’t believe it. Speechless, that’s what she was.

  ‘Don’t think badly of me,’ Simone pleaded, finally pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite. ‘It just happened.’

  ‘When?’

  Simone tried to tuck her crazy, untrainable hair behind her ears. ‘The night before Adam’s wedding. You and Logan were off cooking and we were both bored and we just … well …’

  ‘You just fucked!’ Frankie’s tone was cold, but she couldn’t help it. There was a stranger sitting in front of her. All this time, she and Logan had been feeling guilty about being together when Simone and Angus obviously hadn’t shown any regard for Logan’s feelings. ‘But you were g
oing out with Logan. And I was supposed to be Angus’s date for the wedding. Geez, no wonder he wasn’t interested in me that day.’

  Simone looked taken aback. ‘Don’t be angry. I know you hate cheaters but this is hardly the same as you and that loser in Perth. I need you, Frank.’ She sniffed and reached for a tissue. ‘I’m not going to get through this without you.’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘Does Angus know about this? And what about Logan? How do you think this is going to make him feel?’

  Simone frowned. ‘Logan and I were barely together five minutes. He’ll get over it. Anyway, what do you care about him? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about me?’

  ‘I care because—because I’m in love with him,’ she declared. And it felt good to say it.

  ‘What?’ Simone reeled backwards; her turn to look shocked. Then she narrowed her eyes. ‘Since when?’

  Frankie lifted her chin high, her nerves about confessing the truth to Simone gone now that she and Logan weren’t the ones who’d done the dirty first. ‘Possibly since the day I met him.’

  ‘You mean, before I met him? Why didn’t you just say something?’ When Frankie didn’t reply, Simone continued, ‘Oh my God. He’s your mystery guy, isn’t he? No wonder you were so secret squirrel about it all. Did you fuck up the stupid wedding cake on purpose?’

  ‘Have you lost the plot? You know how much time and effort went it that cake!’ Frankie exploded.

  ‘Yes, but if you hadn’t stuffed it up, I would have been with Logan that night. Angus and I would never have happened.’

  ‘Oh, so this is my fault?’ Frankie pointed a finger at her chest, unable to believe her ears. ‘I’m not the one in the wrong here.’

  ‘Only ’cos I’m the one who ended up pregnant,’ Simone spat. ‘But I don’t see you apologising for messing with my boyfriend.’

  ‘As you just said, you were barely together at all. And I didn’t sleep with Logan until you guys had broken up.’

  ‘Oh, so that makes it all right then. Perfect Frankie. As usual, you can do no wrong.’ Simone shook her head and looked at her like someone who kicked kittens.

  ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ Frankie asked, leaning forward, her hands curling into fists on the table.

  ‘Well—’ Simone shrugged ‘—nothing is ever your fault, is it? It started when we were little—I was always the one who got into trouble even if you started it. I worked my butt off at school and you still got better grades than me. Mum never considered my art to be a real job but hey, cooking for a living is perfectly fine. Oh and it wasn’t your fault you hooked up with a married man. No, you didn’t notice any of the signs; you’d never be a marriage wrecker.’

  Frankie blinked, unable to believe what was coming out of Simone’s mouth. It sounded like she had plenty more where this came from.

  ‘Perfect Frankie goes away to college and learns a trade, comes home and opens a café, whereas silly Simone gets herself knocked up accidentally.’

  Simone opened her mouth as if to add more, but Frankie got in first. ‘And it looks like you’ve done that again, haven’t you? Most people learn from their mistakes, but not you.’

  They stared across the table at each other like worst enemies, not the best friends Frankie had always thought they’d been. If she wasn’t so angry this thought would probably have made her cry, but she was still upset from all the hurtful things Simone had said. Still reeling from her news.

  Simone broke the silent standoff first. ‘Look, if you’re not here to be supportive, you might as well get the hell out.’ She pointed at the door. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate right now without you coming into my home and making me feel worse.’

  Oh, and what about Simone making her feel like crap? Frankie wasn’t going to be made into the bad person here. ‘Fine,’ she said, shoving back her chair and standing. ‘I don’t want to be in this pigsty anyway.’

  Without another word, she snatched up her phone and keys, charged down the hallway to the front door and slammed it shut behind her. If her heart had been racing when she’d arrived, it was ready to leap out of her chest now. She stormed down the street in the direction of the café, imagining herself as a cartoon character with steam pouring from her ears and nostrils.

  Had she ever felt this angry in her life? Finding out she was Michael’s other woman paled in comparison to finding out what Simone really thought of her. All these years, she’d been there for her sister through good and bad. She’d changed the girls’ nappies, babysat, made meals, cleaned on occasions and even paced the hallway with their mother late at night when Grace was suffering terrible colic so that Simone could get some sleep. And what had Simone ever done for her?

  ‘Hello, Frankie love,’ called Dolce as she passed by. Normally she’d stop to talk to the old gossip, maybe help her pull a few weeds from her garden, but today she just kept walking.

  She wanted to call Logan but she needed to wait until she was in the safe confines of the café—thank God it was Monday—so no-one would overhear. Not that she cared what they thought of Simone right now, but she didn’t air her dirty laundry in public. Keeping her head down, she practically jogged down the main street, hoping that everyone could see she wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. She breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the café and then locked herself inside.

  Once in the kitchen, she flicked on the lights, filled a glass of water and then downed it in almost one gulp. Then she wiped the sweat off her brow and took a few deep breaths to try to regulate her breathing. Being in the kitchen was already settling her. Who needed therapy when there was baking? When she was angry, she made cake. When she was sad, she made cake. When she wanted to celebrate, she made cake. Right now she was experiencing a maelstrom of emotions and the need to bake was stronger than ever.

  But first, she needed to speak to Logan. She heaved herself onto the counter and dialled his number. He took so long to answer that for a moment she worried it was going to ring out but then he picked up and she heard his beautiful voice.

  ‘What’s up, buttercup?’

  His voice brought tears to her eyes. She wished so badly he was here right now to hold her. ‘Are you busy?’

  ‘I’m just about to head out and interview a local farmer, but I can always make time for you.’

  She contemplated asking him to call her after his interview because she didn’t want to mess up his work but in the end, she couldn’t wait. This couldn’t wait. ‘I went to see Simone.’

  ‘I see. And … did you tell her?’

  ‘Yes, but she had something to tell me first.’ Her gut squeezed at the memory. Suddenly she wasn’t certain she wanted to be the one to tell him this, but maybe it was better coming from her than Angus—and who else was she supposed to confide in?

  ‘And are you going to tell me what that was?’ Logan sounded amused but that probably wouldn’t last.

  ‘She’s pregnant.’

  ‘Really? Did you know she was seeing anyone?’

  ‘No.’ Frankie snorted bitterly, but Logan didn’t appear to notice.

  He chuckled. ‘I guess she wasn’t too worried about us then?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. She accused me of all sorts of things and then basically told me to fuck off.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I think she was hoping we’d never find out.’

  ‘So who’s the father?’ Logan asked.

  ‘Are you sitting down?’

  ‘No, why? What’s going on?’ Logan’s tone had changed from amused to anxious.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this—’ she paused briefly ‘—but it’s Angus.’

  There was another silence, then, ‘Angus? Hang on … are you telling me they’ve been seeing each other behind our backs?’

  ‘Well, Simone said it only happened one time—the night before the wedding when we were doing the cupcakes—but I don’t know if I believe anything she says anymore.’

  ‘Bastard,’ Logan hissed. ‘F
ucking bastard.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, wishing again that they’d been together for this conversation.

  ‘Does he know?’ Logan asked after another long silence.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I asked her, but now I think about it, she never answered. I got the feeling she’d only just found out.’

  ‘I can’t believe he’d do that to me. And there we were trying to do the right thing, waiting until I’d broken up with her.’

  ‘I know. More fool us. Although Simone doesn’t see it that way.’

  ‘Makes sense now,’ he said. ‘Why she didn’t seem all that shocked or upset when I broke up with her. I’d thought she must have agreed that we weren’t suited, but actually it was because she preferred my older brother.’

  ‘She’s a stupid woman.’

  He laughed a little at that but it didn’t sound genuine. ‘I’m sorry, Frankie. I’d better go, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?’

  She wanted more than talking and she hoped this thing between Angus and Simone wouldn’t ruin the wonderful thing she and Logan had going. ‘Do you think you could come here after your interview? I really want to see you.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ he replied and then they said their goodbyes.

  Although she was worried about Logan, Frankie did feel better after talking to him. Her fury and hurt had calmed a fraction, but she still needed to cook. So, she put on her apron, turned on the oven and set to work.

  * * *

  Spurred on by anger, Logan hastily packed a suitcase with clothes, his favourite books, his toiletries and the photo of his parents, and then shoved his laptop in its bag. He stood at the door and surveyed the room, staring at the bed and remembering the weekend just past, when he and Frankie had barely left it. The best weekend he’d had in a long time, sullied only by the thought that maybe Simone would be hurt by what they were doing.

  What a joke! He shook his head, not wanting to believe it. Not because he was upset by Simone’s unfaithfulness but because the big brother he’d always looked up to, always stood by when things got tough, had thought nothing about betraying him. That hurt.