Return to Stringybark Creek

by Karly Lane

  Damn it. He knew she was right, but … damn it. ‘Okay,’ he said after a few moments. ‘So here’s what we do. We’ll tell them you’ll give a statement, not an interview.’

  ‘She’s not going to accept that.’

  ‘She won’t have a choice. Look, they’re here now and they’re set up. It’d be stupid to have come all this way without doing the interview with Dare to Bare. Plus,’ he said, taking out his phone, ‘I’ll show her the number of likes the page has got in the last twenty-four hours. They’d be crazy not to do the story on us.’

  Hadley dropped her head. He was right. They probably wouldn’t pull up and leave if she refused to talk to them … It wasn’t as though she’d accepted any money for the interview or signed a contract to do it. She could give a statement, but things were going to get extremely messy and awkward.

  ‘Is everything all right over here?’ Cynthia asked, picking her way carefully across the yard.

  ‘Everything’s fine. Just a change of plans,’ Ollie answered before Hadley could open her mouth. ‘Hadley won’t be doing an interview. She’s prepared to give a statement, but there won’t be a live interview.’

  ‘That wasn’t our deal,’ Cynthia pointed out, her fake smile threatening to crack like glass at the slightest movement.

  ‘If I’d known there was a deal, you can bet your sweet ar—’

  ‘I’m happy to release a statement, Cynthia,’ Hadley cut in quickly.

  ‘I was sent here to get an interview,’ the other woman said tightly.

  Hadley suddenly found herself back in control. ‘You’ll be the only network that’s managed to secure a statement. I haven’t even given my own network one, so take it or leave it.’

  The woman was not happy, that was more than obvious; however, after taking it to her producer and having an impromptu phone conference, she came back and reluctantly announced they would accept the statement. And thanks to the interruption, they were now rapidly approaching the time slot scheduled for the live cross to interview Ollie for Dare to Bare, so any further drama was cut short.

  The interview went better than Hadley could have imagined. Ollie was a natural on camera—he told his story briefly, yet with so much heart that when he spoke about Luke’s death, she noticed she wasn’t the only one who had to blink away tears. Quite a few of the TV crew also seemed to have something in their eye that needed to be quickly wiped away. Everyone other than Cynthia, of course. Nothing seemed to crack that cool, sophisticated shell.

  After the live cross was over, Cynthia sent her assistant over to inform her she’d be waiting for Hadley to give her statement.

  ‘Want me to come with you?’ Ollie asked, taking the bottle of water she offered and downing it quickly. Off camera he wasn’t as calm, cool and collected as he’d seemed.

  ‘No, I’ll be fine. You were great.’

  He sent her a doubtful glance before finishing the last of the water and screwing the lid back on the bottle. ‘Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not sure this is my thing.’

  ‘It’ll get easier,’ she promised, kissing him softly before heading off to find Cynthia.

  ‘Just for the record, Hadley, I’m not impressed with this little stunt. I’m sure you can imagine the flak I’m going to get once I get back to the office. I’d always thought you were a professional,’ the woman said as Hadley took a seat.

  ‘I am a professional, Cynthia, when it comes to my job. This is my private life and that’s not on the table for you and everyone else to take a slice of.’

  ‘Come on, Hadley. You knew what you were getting into when you married Mitch. It goes with the territory. It’s the trade-off for all the glitz and glamour and the big pay cheque.’

  ‘Selling my soul was not what I signed up for. That’s Mitch’s problem.’

  Cynthia eased back in the chair, her long legs crossed with a feminine grace Hadley had never been able to master. She eyed Hadley shrewdly. ‘It has to be hard being kept on a chain like you are,’ she said in mock sympathy. ‘I mean, you’re an independent woman, a veteran in your field, and yet you’re being gagged by your network who, let’s face it, will probably be dumping both you and Mitch after this scandal, to distance themselves from any public humiliation …’

  ‘I think you’re clutching at straws now, Cynthia. You know,’ Hadley added coolly when she saw the flicker of annoyance in the other woman’s eyes, ‘there was a time when you were above this kind of tabloid reporting. It’s sad that this is where your network thinks you belong.’

  ‘Cynthia, we need to pack up and get on the road,’ a young production assistant announced, having approached the women timidly.

  Hadley didn’t like hitting below the belt, but right now it seemed all gloves were off—she was just grateful that she could escape after delivering her statement.

  On her way back across to Ollie she caught the last of his conversation with one of the producers. She chuckled at the look of dismay on Ollie’s face.

  ‘So we’ll hang around and do a bit more filming, grab some stuff for the story. We’ll interview a few people around town, get some nice stills of the place, that kinda thing. We’ll need you to do a sit-down interview a bit later. You can be available?’

  ‘I’ve got work to do, mate.’ Ollie wasn’t looking thrilled by the whole idea.

  ‘I’m sure we can work something out,’ Hadley said, stepping in. ‘Why don’t you let me know when you’ll need him and I’ll take care of it.’

  The young woman’s worried face relaxed significantly as she turned to face Hadley. ‘They absolutely loved him back at the studio and we really want to do a feature story on Dare to Bare. We’ll air it later in the week.’

  Hadley turned a bright smile onto Ollie after the woman left. ‘How good’s that?’

  ‘Yeah. Fantastic,’ he said dryly. ‘When am I supposed to get any of my actual work done?’

  ‘It’s just a day, Ollie. I’m sure we can get someone to help out. This is huge. Everyone can benefit from it. Your parents’ paddock-to-plate business will get a mention; they’ll film in the town and give Rankins Springs a bit of exposure, and best of all, they’ll be talking about the whole issue of rural suicide,’ she pointed out gently. ‘Remember? The actual reason we’re doing all of this?’ Hadley moved into his arms and hugged him. ‘Do it for Luke, Ollie.’

  She felt his long sigh against her and closed her eyes briefly. Standing here, like this, with Ollie’s arms around her, she felt as though she had everything she would ever need. This felt like home.

  ‘Okay,’ he finally said, and she eased back to look up at him.

  ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘So this is all I had to do to win you over? Get on morning TV and look like a goose? If I’d known that, I would have done it years ago.’

  ‘You didn’t look like a goose,’ she grinned. ‘In fact you looked pretty damn sexy.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ He kinked an eyebrow and Hadley wiggled hers back.

  As Hadley drove home, her thoughts returned to the exchange she’d just had with Cynthia.

  Now that everyone knew the truth, was there anything holding her back from doing an interview? It couldn’t hurt her parents any more than they were hurting now. There was nothing to lose, she supposed, except her own principles. What would telling her side of the story on national television achieve? She didn’t want anyone else knowing about her private life. She couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting in front of a camera and answering questions from someone like Cynthia Rivers.

  Twenty-five

  Ollie pulled up outside the main house and noticed a familiar car parked there. He heard low voices coming from the kitchen and braced himself as he walked in.

  ‘Here he is,’ his mother said, sending him a reassuring smile. He switched his gaze to the visitors seated at the table with his parents. ‘Alice and Terry came out for a cuppa.’

  ‘Workin’ hard?’ Terry asked, leaning forwards to shake Ollie’s hand in greeting.
>
  ‘Someone around here has to,’ he said, then had a weird sensation at the familiar exchange. For the briefest of moments it was as though life had gone back to the way it used to be. This was their standard greeting—the one they’d always used when Luke was still alive—and he was torn between relief and sadness.

  ‘We wanted to come out and tell you we saw the TV segment,’ Alice said after they’d exchanged small talk about the weather and the local footy team’s chances that weekend.

  Ollie fought the urge to squirm in his seat. ‘Oh. Yeah. That.’ He’d spoken to them briefly the day before the interview, not wanting to spring it on them without any warning, but hadn’t gone into too much detail. Now he eyed his mate’s mother warily, unsure if he’d upset them.

  ‘It’s a really terrific thing you’re doing, Ollie,’ Alice said softly.

  Their approval hit him harder than he’d expected. He took a minute before he trusted his voice. ‘Hadley’s the one who lined everything up. I just got thrown in front of the camera.’

  ‘You did a great job and I think this is a wonderful idea.’

  ‘Wish we’d done it sooner,’ Ollie said quietly.

  ‘It’s like anything important—it always takes something painful to bring about change. Loss and love are two of the world’s greatest motivators,’ she said sadly. ‘I know you feel like you should have done something to stop Luke,’ Alice said, surprising him by reaching across the table to put her hand on his, ‘but you’re not the only one. We feel it too,’ she said, turning back to her husband. They shared a long look full of pain and heartache.

  ‘No one could have known Luke was going to do what he did,’ she said more firmly, now holding Ollie’s reluctant gaze. ‘Not even us—and we knew him better than anyone. So you have to stop blaming yourself.’

  He swallowed hard over his tightening throat.

  ‘What you’re doing is great, Ollie. It needs to be done. For us … for you … for anyone else who’s ever lost someone to this horrendous thing. It’s too late once someone decides that’s what they need to do—so we need to stop it reaching that point.’

  He saw the tears that ran down Alice’s face and his heart broke, but it was the tears in Luke’s father’s eyes—one of the toughest men he’d ever known—that hit him harder than any tackle ever could. He felt out of his depth, confronted with so much emotion, but something held him in his seat. They had to stop running from everything. You couldn’t keep all this pain inside, hidden. Letting it out sure as shit didn’t feel much better, in his opinion, but if Terry could sit there and let someone see his pain, then surely that had to mean something? This was what needed to change—there had to be hard conversations and uncomfortable moments around kitchen tables. This was what he’d been talking about and it sucked big time to feel this raw and exposed, but at the same time he felt better. His grief was still there, but some of the guilt had gone. These were the first tentative steps and they gave him hope.

  The following few days sent the Dare to Bare team into a frenzy of packing orders and promotional opportunities. Ollie felt like he was struggling to keep his head above water. It’d been such a sudden rise that there had been no time to prepare for it. He hadn’t factored in all the things that went hand in hand with the calendar idea, like the media interviews and the time it was taking away from farming. He was beginning to feel more than a little inundated. There was new pressure on him too. Luke’s parents’ visit had been a turning point for him. He knew that what he was doing was important for other people now, and while that was validation that he was on the right track, it was also an added responsibility. He watched Hadley across the room, writing on envelopes and posting off the orders that had been flooding in since the TV interview had gone to air. She looked as exhausted as he was feeling.

  ‘Do you want to go to the pub for dinner tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve got another box of these to get ready to post yet,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘Leave it.’

  ‘I can’t leave it. People have paid for them,’ she said, looking up at him, and he felt bad for suggesting it. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, opening another box.

  ‘You should go in to town and kick back for a while, you’ve earned it.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you here to do all this alone.’

  ‘Ollie, we took this on together, remember? You’ve been working as well as doing Dare to Bare stuff. If you don’t ease up when you get a chance, you’ll burn out.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Hads.’

  He watched her put the pen down and walk across to him. ‘I know it must feel as though it’s got out of control,’ she said, coming to a stop in front of him. ‘But Ollie, you are such a natural at talking to reporters. You come across so honest and real. People can relate to you and that’s important.’

  ‘I just don’t know how I’m gonna juggle it all if … I mean, when you go,’ he said, feeling helpless. He didn’t want to talk about when she would leave—they’d been doing so well at avoiding it. But he feared this whole project would crumble once she wasn’t here to hold it up. It was Hadley who ran everything behind the scenes.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that too.’

  ‘Are you sure you have to go? I mean, I know this isn’t your job, and it doesn’t actually pay a wage,’ he added, and the more he spoke the more he heard how ridiculous the idea was. Of course she wouldn’t want to stay and run this thing. What the hell was he thinking?

  ‘I can still do a lot of it even when I’m not here. I can organise the media stuff and run the Facebook page from pretty much anywhere as long as I have my computer and wifi,’ she said gently. ‘Both our mums have agreed to come on board and they’re happy to take calendars to the post, so you won’t be stuck doing this at night. Everything will continue just like it has been.’

  ‘Except you won’t be here,’ he said.

  ‘It’s only eight months.’

  ‘It feels like forever already and you haven’t even left yet.’

  ‘I know. I’ve tried not to think about it either, but it’s getting closer and I think we need to talk.’

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about, is there. I mean, you’re going and that’s that.’

  ‘I thought you were okay with it?’

  Ollie gave a harsh sigh and rubbed his face. ‘I am. It’s just, it’s almost here and I feel as though we’ve let all these bloody interviews and photo shoots get in the way of the time we’ve got left. I’m not sure I can do all this alone.’

  He felt a lurch in his chest as she slid into his arms and held him tightly. ‘You won’t be doing this alone. We’re in this together.’ She pulled back a little to look up at him. ‘Think of this as how we’ll stay connected while I’m away. We’ll still talk every day, we can video chat, so we’ll still see each other.’ She lowered her voice, ‘We might even be able to do some kinky video sexting …’

  He grinned down at her. ‘Is that a thing? I think it’s called making a sex tape.’

  ‘Whatever it is, if it makes you smile, I’m up for it.’

  ‘With our luck, someone will hack your computer and put it up on the bloody internet.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right, I think we’ve had enough scandal. But, seriously, it’s going to fly. You’ll be busy with all this,’ she said, waving an arm around the crowded room. ‘And I’ll be back before we know it.’

  ‘What if something happens to you? I know it’s not the cool, feminist thing to say, but I hate that your job puts you in danger. I really wish you worked in an office.’

  ‘You know, statistically, farming is far more dangerous than reporting news. Farming comes in at number seventeen and journalism doesn’t even rate in the top fifty.’

  ‘You just happened to know this off the top of your head?’ he asked doubtfully.

  ‘I may have anticipated you bringing this up at some point,’ she answered sheepishly when he r
aised an eyebrow.

  ‘I can’t even remember life here without you now,’ he said after a few moments of just holding each other. It was true. He’d lived all this time without her, and now he wasn’t sure he knew how to go back to being that old Ollie.

  ‘It’s the first time in my entire career that I’m actually questioning everything,’ she said, pulling back a little. ‘I’ve never done that before. Nothing has ever made me rethink my future, until you came along,’ she told him softly. ‘I need to finish out my contract, but after that, I want us to work out our future … together.’

  Nothing had ever sounded so good. He’d hate every second of the time they were apart, but he could wait. He was a patient man when he had to be, and Hadley Callahan was worth waiting for.

  The late afternoon shadows were falling across the road as she turned into Stringybark and headed towards the house. She’d been sorting out the last-minute things she needed to do before she flew out to London next week, where her next assignment would take her. How had it come around so fast? Usually she was couldn’t wait to get back to work, but so much had happened since she’d arrived home before Christmas. It was hard to believe the changes her life had undergone in such a short stretch of time. She’d had no idea as she’d driven down this very road back then, disheartened and betrayed, that she’d be now driving down it excited by the prospect of a future with a man she’d known all her life.

  As she climbed the steps she dug out her mobile, which had unhelpfully run out of charge, and headed into the kitchen to plug it into her charger. Instantly the phone lit up and began pinging with message after message.

  What the hell? Hadley picked up the phone and frowned as the screen filled up with missed calls and messages from her sister. She scrolled through them until she found the first ones.

  Hadley. Answer your phone it’s urgent.

  For God’s sake, Hadley! Answer your phone!

  Hadley put the phone down and called out, ‘Hello? Mum? Dad?’

  ‘We’re out the back,’ her mother called and Hadley stuck her head out the door, seeing her parents and grandmother seemingly relaxed and having an afternoon drink together.