Yes, she’d noticed the looks her fellow old girls had given her when she’d first entered the yacht club. So, she wasn’t wearing a cocktail dress or heels that would give a ruler a run for its money, and maybe her mousy-brown mid-length hair wasn’t shiny and straight, but she was comfy in her look.
While the women around her nattered on about her imaginary boyfriend, Faith giggled inwardly at the fact that this was her best going-out outfit. Knee-high boots, leggings and a chiffon tunic were far removed from her normal uniform of shorts or jeans (depending on the season), tee or flannelette shirt and her Blundstones. Tonight she was even wearing make-up.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ boomed a microphoned voice from a raised platform at the front of the room. ‘Welcome to our annual alumnae cocktail party and the presentation of Ms Alumna of the Year.’
The women around Faith scattered to find their business-suited husbands and Faith stood alone at the edge of the room, nursing her empty champagne flute.
‘As you know,’ continued the principal, ‘tonight we celebrate our former students’ successes in fundraising for charities in need. Perth Ladies College is proud of our Ms Alumna award, and the continued support by our students and old girls is admirable. It’s hard to believe the award is now in its twenty-fifth year. I’m going to hand over to Mrs Priscilla Morgan-Brookes, organiser of this outstanding initiative, to announce this year’s finalists.’
Faith scanned the faces all around her. Amongst these women, being crowned Ms Alumna of the Year was akin to winning a Miss World title. To enter, you had to organise a fundraising event for a charity near to your heart, garner the support and attention of the media (thus giving the school good publicity) and raise the most money of all the entrants. Faith had never thought too highly of the award, which in the old girls’ magazine always seemed like yet another way for some women to draw attention to themselves, but as she listened to the list of finalists and their achievements, she wondered if she’d been too quick to judge.
How could you be anything but positive about a woman who rode a tricycle all the way around Australia to raise money for sufferers of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, and did the books of her family’s business online at night?
And this wasn’t an act in isolation. Most of the entrants had worked hard to achieve fulfilling careers, all the while starting families and giving back to the community. What the hell had she done?
She made a mental inventory of her achievements.
Complete half a degree in agricultural sciences.
Coach Bunyip Bay’s junior netball team.
Um… This was a lot harder than she liked.
Look after Dad and Ryan, help them on the farm when they let me.
Nup, nothing else was jumping out at her.
Sad, seriously sad. Faith focused back on Priscilla Morgan-Brookes as she spoke about a woman who’d been a few years ahead of her at school.
‘Lara Leeds has taken time off from the law firm where she met her husband Michael to home-school their three children. Somehow, whilst doing this and supporting Michael’s demanding career, Lara managed to raise forty-five thousand dollars last year for research into childhood cancers.’
Faith joined in the applause while images flashed across a big screen—photos of Lara’s fundraiser in which children with leukaemia had illustrated greeting cards, which had then been sold for big bucks across the country.
Another finalist had organised an art show for victims of posttraumatic stress. One woman raised almost thirty thousand dollars for homeless people by getting Western Australian actors to donate their time and put on a theatre production. Faith recalled reading something about it in The West Australian.
And the list went on.
Yes, Faith was guilty of serious judgement. If she’d been sitting, she’d have slunk low in her chair in shame. As it was, all she could do was smile and applaud along with the rest of the crowd as Lara Leeds took to the podium to be crowned Ms Alumna of the Year. While Priscilla Morgan-Brookes whisked Lara away to have photos taken with the other finalists, the principal took the microphone once again.
‘It is with great pleasure,’ he made elaborate hand gestures, ‘that I declare our next Ms Alumna of the Year competition open.’ He paused for a moment as more applause assaulted Faith’s ears, then added, ‘All old girls who’d like to participate are invited to come forward and pledge this evening.’
When Faith had arrived that evening, she’d never in her wildest imaginings have envisioned doing what she did next. As she handed her empty glass to a passing waiter, took a deep breath and went forward to join the other women lining up at the pledge table, she suddenly felt like this was a turning point in her life.
This was her year to make a difference.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Faith rose with the magpies. All night long, her mind had been churning with ideas. She’d alternated between depressing thoughts of her uninspiring single life and exciting thoughts about the charities she could choose for her fundraising efforts. Breast cancer research or support for victims’ families seemed the obvious ones, but she wasn’t sure obvious was the way to go. Not wanting to wake the Montgomerys—their ancient water pipes made horrendous noises when in use—she skipped a much-wanted shower, tugged on her jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and boots, and headed into the kitchen.
For as long as she could remember, Monty’s parents had offered her a room in the city whenever she visited. She’d always been close to Monty’s family, but in the years since her mother’s death, Jenni Montgomery and Faith had grown especially close. Jenni called her the daughter they’d never had, which always made Faith smile. Although no one could ever replace her own mum, Jenni had been an amazing support during the hardest time of her life.
It had become a habit that whenever she used their hospitality, she made breakfast for them, and today she was more than happy for the occupation. As it was still darkish outside, she flicked on the light and smiled at the immaculate kitchen. Matching blue canisters of tea, sugar and coffee were perfectly aligned on the bench. The pantry was a work of art—tins arranged by size, with their labels all turned to face outwards.
This was the way Monty’s younger brother liked it, and Jenni and Stuart had adapted in the twenty-five years since Will was born. Sometimes even Faith forgot that most people didn’t find his behaviour normal.
William Montgomery was one of the most interesting and intelligent people Faith knew. He was also autistic.
‘Morning, Faith.’
At the sound of Jenni’s chirpy voice, Faith spun round, the kettle she’d been about to fill swinging in her hand as she greeted her friend. ‘Good morning.’
Jenni wore a fluffy dressing gown, even fluffier slippers, and her hair was a bird’s nest of white gold. She took the kettle from Faith and leaned over the sink, talking while she turned on the tap and filled it. ‘You know it’s always so lovely to have you here, but there’s no need for you to get up so early and cook for us. You had a late one last night, didn’t you?’
Faith nodded as she began retrieving ingredients from the pantry. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you.’
‘No, I can’t sleep at the moment as it is.’ Jenni dumped the kettle on the stovetop with a thunk. ‘Things on my mind.’
Faith frowned. It wasn’t like Jenni to worry. Monty’s mum was one of the most easy-going people Faith knew.
‘Anything I can help with?’ she asked. Having located a bowl, she began cracking eggs for her signature breakfast omelettes.
‘Oh, it’s probably nothing.’ Jenni turned and leaned back against the bench, watching Faith with a forced smile on her face. ‘I keep having this dream about seeing a raven in my tea leaves.’
Faith turned her head slightly so Jenni wouldn’t see her grin. Monty’s mum had a few—how would she put it?—quirky interests. Where Monty and his father Stuart were logical in everything they said and did, both keeping up-to-date five-year plans
, Jenni dabbled in numerology, tarot cards, tea leaf reading and—most recently—flower essences. Faith didn’t give much weight to the validity of these things, but she hadn’t been around Jenni for most of her life without some of her crazy knowledge rubbing off. ‘A raven is bad news, right?’
‘Yes,’ Jenni replied solemnly. ‘Very.’
Picking up the whisk, Faith said, ‘But you haven’t actually had a raven in your tea leaves?’
‘No. Just a recurring dream. But you know my thoughts on dreams.’
‘They happen for a reason.’ To an extent she agreed, but if she didn’t believe in tea leaf reading, she could hardly worry about a dream involving them.
Racking her mind for something else to talk about, Faith went to retrieve the butter from the fridge. There, stuck on the door with a magnet, was a brochure featuring the cutest puppy ever. ‘You thinking of getting a dog?’ she asked, forgetting she was trying to change the subject, simply smitten by the idea of a new Montgomery pet.
‘Sorry? Oh, that.’ Jenni smiled and took the brochure off the fridge. ‘Not really. It’s from an organisation that trains dogs for autistic children. There wasn’t anything around like this when Will was little, and these people’—Jenni waved the brochure in the air and then laid it on the kitchen table—‘raise dogs to be companions. Will’s not a child anymore, but I’m wondering if he might still benefit from us getting a pet.’
‘What about his spiders?’
Jenni visibly shuddered as the kettle started whistling behind her. ‘Something a little more socially acceptable would be ideal. Something that offers greater companionship.’
Smiling at Will’s love of spiders and his mother’s absolute disgust, Faith deserted the eggs for a moment and studied the brochure.
Dogs for Autism is a non-profit organisation striving to raise, socialise and train Autism Assistance Dogs. These dogs impact many facets of an autistic child’s life including promoting independence, self-esteem, improved psychological wellbeing and quality of life.
Seeing the pricey figure on the page, Faith let out a low whistle. ‘These dogs don’t come cheap.’
‘No.’ Jenni shook her head. ‘Just like guide dogs for the blind, they need lengthy and dedicated training. But I think it’s a great idea and so wonderful that families have more opportunities like this nowadays.’ She shrugged. ‘Just something I’m contemplating. But enough about us, I want to hear the gossip from Bunyip.’
‘Gossip!’ Faith snorted as she went back to her eggs.
Gossip was part and parcel of living in a small town where everyone knew everything about everybody, or at least thought they did. Mostly, Faith didn’t mind, and she didn’t usually pay much attention. Her life was so damn boring she guessed nobody ever bothered talking about her, but Jenni still had some good friends in Bunyip Bay and liked to hear about the town whenever Faith or Monty visited.
‘Let’s see… The Paynes are selling up and moving to New South Wales to live with their daughter. The new year-one teacher had an affair with the principal. Oh, and Monty’s started renovating Old Man Silvey’s place on Annadale Farm, but maybe he’s already told you that.’
Jenni snorted. ‘No, he hasn’t. Daniel is far too busy working to talk to his old mum. I had hoped he might come down with you this weekend.’
Faith bit her lower lip and shrugged apologetically. ‘I did suggest it, but…’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Jenni blustered. ‘Anyway, whatever do the Burtons plan on doing with Tom’s old cottage?’
‘According to Monty, Adam just wants to give Mrs Burton a project. They might rent it out to holiday-makers one day, but he reckons she’s wallowed far too long.’
Jenni sighed. ‘Adam would be right. I don’t blame Esther Burton for pining after her little girl, but it must be almost twenty years since she went missing. It was before we moved down here.’ She paused for a moment, as if contemplating. ‘Esther needs to remember she has a husband and son worth living for.’
Not having children herself, Faith found it hard to imagine what it would be like to lose one, but she guessed it wasn’t something you’d easily recover from. Most of her memories of the Burton girl were from stories still passed around by the locals— Adam rarely spoke about his sister—but Faith remembered the fuss when she first went missing. The whole town had been involved in the search, but no one had ever found a trace.
‘How is Daniel anyway?’ Jenni finished making her tea, placed a mug next to Faith and sat down at the table.
‘Same as ever.’ Faith found herself holding back a grin as she recalled the way she’d described him to the old girls last night. She’d almost forgotten she didn’t have a real boyfriend. ‘He works so hard, I rarely see him unless I go along and play his assistant. If he’s not at the Burtons’, he’s out on the boats or helping some farmer or other with a task they’d rather not do themselves.’
‘Good to see nothing changes,’ Jenni mused over the top of her mug, although her tone told Faith she wished it would.
Faith watched her egg mixture bubble in the pan. ‘You raised him stubborn. He’s got a dream and he won’t stop working until he achieves it.’
Another sigh left Jenni’s lips. ‘Stubborn runs in the Montgomery blood, but I’d like him to settle down one of these days. I’d like to have grandchildren while I’m still young enough to enjoy them.’
And I’d like to have children before menopause, thought Faith.
She started and almost burnt her hand on the edge of the frying pan. Where had that come from? At twenty-nine, she’d never— until two seconds ago—given one thought to her biological clock. She’d never even been sure she wanted to have children. Had to be all those successful and fertile women she’d been hanging around last night. Had to be all that talk of her successful and good-looking pretend boyfriend. A girl’s imagination could get away from her if she let it.
‘I think you might need that puppy as much as Will,’ Faith said eventually. ‘You know, like a substitute grandchild.’
Jenni raised one eyebrow.
‘Monty barely stops work long enough to meet eligible women and anyway, the only one he’s shown any interest in recently is princess Ruby Jones.’
‘Princess who?’ Jenni leaned forward, her eyes dancing with interest.
‘Oh, it’s nothing. It’s really none of my business.’
‘Now, don’t go giving me that line,’ Jenni said in her strict-mum voice. ‘You wouldn’t have said anything if it was nothing. Who is this Ruby? It’s the first time I’ve heard of her.’
Faith sighed. ‘Ruby is the daughter of Robert and Lyn Jones. They own The Ag Store. Monty—and all the other single guys in town—have been vying for her attention since she moved in with her parents a few months back.’
‘Really? And why the ‘princess’ bit? Don’t you like her?’
‘It’s not that, it’s just…’ What had Faith got herself into? Fact was, she didn’t know why she’d taken such a dislike to Ruby. ‘She could just be shy, I suppose, but she keeps to herself and something gives me the impression she thinks she’s too good for Bunyip Bay. My guess is she’s biding her time until something better comes up and she leaves again. And I don’t like the way she’s stringing Monty along.’
‘Not just a tiny bit jealous, are we?’ Jenni nudged her.
‘No! There’s never been anything like that between us.’
‘I see. Well, if she hurts my boy, I’ll put a hex on her.’
Faith laughed.
‘What’s all the ruckus in here?’
They looked up to see Stuart Montgomery standing in the doorway, peering at them suspiciously. ‘Did I miss a good knock-knock or something?’ Before either of them could answer, he inhaled deeply and a massive grin appeared on his bearded face. He eyed the almost-cooked omelette in the pan. ‘Have I ever told you how much I love it when you come to stay?’ Stuart crossed the room and draped his arm around Faith’s shoulders. ‘Great to see you again, lov
e.’
The feeling was absolutely mutual. She leaned into his hug, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his fatherly embrace. How many times recently had she wished Stuart was her real father and then been overcome with guilt? Stuart and Will had been out yesterday afternoon—some arachnid talk at the museum— when Faith dropped her overnight bag off, but she was glad to see him now. As he sat down at the table opposite his wife, and Faith continued cooking, she found her gaze drifting to the happy couple. Monty’s parents had aged well. Despite her quirky dress sense, Jenni was elegant, and Stuart’s salt-and-pepper beard suited him perfectly. She wondered if Monty would be as handsome as his dad at that age. What would he look like with a beard?
Shaking that random thought, she laid a couple of omelettes down in front of her friends before turning to start her own. She always enjoyed breakfast with the Montgomerys because they took the time to sit down together. This was something her mum had always insisted on too, but after Cassie’s death, the family habit of eating breakfast together had somehow died too.
‘So, what have you been up to lately, Miss Faith?’ Stuart asked as his fork scraped across his plate.
‘Same old, same old,’ she replied, glad she didn’t have to pretend for these two. ‘I manage to put the time away running after dad and Ryan, milking Daisy, keeping the hens.’ These last two were her mother’s projects, things she kept doing because it seemed right. ‘There’s also netball coaching, and we’ll be starting seeding soon, so I’ll no doubt be stuck in the kitchen cooking until some emergency happens and they need me on a tractor.’ If she sounded bitter, her friends didn’t call her on it, but the fact was the life she’d made up last night was far more appealing than her real one.
‘Ah, the tractor…’ Stuart said with a wistful tone. ‘I do miss that sometimes.’
Faith couldn’t miss the look Jenni shot her husband.
‘Don’t get me wrong, love,’ he was quick to placate her. ‘I wouldn’t change the past for anyone, and I like living in the city now, but farming was in my blood. Hard to forget it completely.’
Outback Dreams Page 2