by Annie Seaton
“Well, she’s Italian.” He teased them by stringing the story out. “But you already know her.”
“Come on, Seb. Who?” Lucy laughed.
“Isabella Romano.”
“Bella from high school? Fabulous! She’s back in town?”
“Just for six weeks. She’s visiting her dad. And did any of you know that Con is not really Con, but Leonardo?”
The laughter around the table as Sebastian related the story of Isabella kissing him at the airport settled him even more. The half-grown wheat in the paddocks took on an orange hue as the sun slipped lower in the sky. The occasional lazy sound of a beast bellowing as dusk settled was peaceful. Even the zapping of the insects against the purple light on the edge of the verandah added to the country ambience.
Sebastian sat back and let the serenity soothe him as the happy voices washed over him. His eyelids were heavy and he almost nodded off a couple of times.
“Come on,” Lucy called out. “It’s time to clear up and let this poor international traveller get some sleep.”
He jumped up, instantly awake. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“I’ve made up your old room for you, Seb.” Jemima leaned down to give Willow a scrap of leftover meat as she scraped the plates into the bin.
“Thanks, Jemmy, you needn’t have worried. I probably would have crashed on top of the bed.”
“You do look tired, Seb. But happy, too.”
“I am.”
“Will that last out here, do you think?” Jemima had always read him well, and she cut straight to the chase as she followed him into the kitchen. “How do you think you’ll cope with being home for good? You are here to stay, right?”
“Yes, I am. It’s time to do my bit. I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to working with Liam.”
Why did his family always think he wouldn’t measure up? Sebastian covered his disappointment with a smile and picked up a tea towel. Lucy chattered away as she washed the dishes and he dried until Liam called him out to the verandah.
“I’ve got a favour to ask, Seb.” Liam looked awkward and Sebastian frowned as he wandered out to the verandah. Ned was over in the hayshed with the children, and it was deserted out there.
What now?
“I was wondering…I was hoping,” Liam cleared his throat, “that you’ll agree to be my best man at the wedding.”
Sebastian smiled. “I’d be honoured, mate. But what about the wedding photos? I thought you’d want me to take them?”
“Maybe you can do both? Be best man at the ceremony, and take the photos the rest of the time? For the formal group photos, I’ve got the photographer from the paper in town lined up.”
“Sounds like it’s all under control.”
Angie walked out and raised her eyebrows to Liam and he nodded. “Hey, we have a best man, babe.”
She hugged Sebastian. “Thank you, it means a lot to Liam.”
“So tell me about the wedding? A double one, I hear?”
“Yes, last Saturday in September. It’s going to be a big do here at Prickle Creek Farm We’ve booked a caterer from Dubbo, one who does the event organisation and the setup and cleanup, too, so it won’t be too much of a chore. When Ned and Jemmy got married in autumn, they had a civil ceremony at the registry office.”
“You’ll never guess who their witnesses were,” Liam interjected. “Mr. and Mrs. McGillicuddy. Remember our kindergarten teacher!”
“And they want to have a proper wedding, now. So we decided on a double wedding with a celebrant, and we’re going to have the reception here in the hayshed. Gran and Pop should be home a couple of weeks before the wedding because they want to go to the anniversary race meeting at Come-by-Chance.” Angie smiled as she took Liam’s arm. “I haven’t been to a bush race meeting yet, and even though it’s close to the wedding, we wouldn’t miss it.”
“It’s going to be a busy couple of weeks. I loved those races when I was a kid.”
“We all did. And this year it’s the seventieth anniversary so it’s a special one. I’m going to hire a small bus so we can all go out together,” Liam said.
Sebastian looked out over the garden where the children were playing hide-and-seek with Ned. The family had grown since Gran had called them all home two years ago.
Certainty that he was on the right path began to move slowly through him.
All he had to do was prove himself. There was no luck involved in his international success as a photographer. He’d worked hard and he was damn good at what he did.
But now it was time to transfer that work ethic to the family farm. And prove to himself—and maybe the family—that he was capable.
It was going to be okay.
As he walked into the living room, he stopped dead and stared at the wall.
Bloody heck.
One of his photographs of a Pilliga sunset had been blown up and framed. The light played beautifully over the waving wheat as a thunderstorm built up in the west. The purple and gold contrasted with the yellow of the paddock. He remembered he’d stopped his bike and snapped off a dozen photos on his way home from town last time he’d been here. He’d texted a couple to Jemima and then forgotten about them.
Now the framed photograph, taking pride of place in the living room, brought back a memory of that awesome light. It almost filled the wall above the low cabinet that held Gran’s good dinner set. He stood there for a moment before he shook his head.
“Gran got that done for Pop last Christmas. She saw the photo on my phone when you sent it to me.” Jemima came through from the kitchen, carrying a couple of clean casserole dishes filled with leftovers.
“Did she know it was one of mine?” Seb reached over and took the dishes from her. “Where do these go?”
“Out to my car, please. And of course she did.”
“Why would she have one of my photos up on the wall?”
Jemima stared at him. “Are you for real? She’s really proud of you, Seb.”
“I don’t think so. This is Gran we’re talking about.”
“Listen to me. Before they went away last time, they had a few friends over, and she brought them all inside to show them the photo.” Jemima folded her arms and leaned back against the doorframe as she looked at the photograph. “‘My grandson, the famous photographer,’ was heard quite a few times that afternoon.”
Sebastian grinned and headed for the door. “Maybe the old dragon is mellowing in her old age.”
Chapter Five
Steam from the ancient dishwasher filled the kitchen in the milk bar. Isabella pushed her hair back from her eyes and muttered as she pulled out the still-hot dishes. Her hair had bunched up into tight ringlets and perspiration trickled down her neck. Shirley, the woman who usually helped Dad out over the busy lunchtime rush—um, what lunchtime rush?—had rushed to the local school because her son had fallen from the playground equipment. When her father had gone to call in a casual waitress, Isabella had shaken her head.
“No, Dad. I can help you out. Goodness knows, I’ve done it all before.”
And it would keep the mind-numbing boredom at bay. The town had changed since she and Mum had left eight years ago. Businesses had closed, and the facades of some of the shops looked neglected. Paint peeled around the once shiny display windows that were now papered over with old newspapers. Tubs with shrivelled brown plants leaned drunkenly against some of the verandah posts. It was sad to see, but it seemed self-perpetuating; as stores and businesses closed, even more shops closed when fewer people came into town to shop. She’d tried to raise the viability of the milk bar with Dad last night. Each time she’d wandered down from the apartment upstairs through the day—there were only so many hours a day you could browse restaurants and menus on the web—the milk bar had been empty. A couple of older women had bought a takeaway coffee the first time she’d come down, and when she’d ventured back down at the end of school hours, expecting to see the milk bar full of kids for an after-school drink, th
e shop had been completely empty.
As had the main street.
After she washed the dishes, Isabella counted the customers that came into the milk bar for the next hour as she wiped down the benches and tidied the refrigerators. She hated sitting still and not having anything to do. Dad sat at a table reading magazines. She didn’t know how he put up with this, day in, day out.
“Do most people go into Narrabri to shop now?” she asked later that afternoon as Dad stood at the refrigerator in the small kitchenette in the apartment. Isabella looked around; the apartment looked smaller than when she had lived here, and the general neglect of the main street seemed to have crept in here as well.
Then again, maybe it was the lack of a feminine touch.
Dad shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t ask them, Bella. I’m just happy when they come in.”
“There weren’t many customers today.”
He waved his hand around in a very Italian gesture. “Enough to keep me busy.”
She very much doubted that.
“But now that you’re home, it will all be good.”
And how did he come to that conclusion?
“Dad?”
“Yes, Bella?”
“What would you say if I suggested you went back to Italy for a while?”
“Now why would I want to do that? Now that you’re home?”
“I’m only here six weeks.”
His face fell. “I thought once you came home you might change your mind?”
Isabella shook her head emphatically. “I told you I have a new job in England.”
“So you’ll go and I’ll be all alone again.” His voice was resigned.
“Dad, I’m all grown up now. With a life of my own. Why don’t you go and visit Mum?” She took a deep breath for courage. “She’d love to see you. She misses you, you know. Very much.”
“If she missed me so much, she wouldn’t be over there.” The rigid straightness of Dad’s back warned her that his volcanic temper was simmering, so she changed the subject very quickly.
“Anyway, let me tell you all about my new job.”
Once his temper had subsided, Isabella knew it wasn’t worth raising the subject again. It was obvious Dad was unhappy here by himself. In fact, in a few of their phone conversations over the past few months, she had even worried that he was suffering from depression.
She had six weeks to work on him, and she was determined to convince him it was time to leave Spring Downs.
I can do it. Of that she had no doubt, but it was going to take some talking.
As they were about to start preparing dinner, there was a tap on the door that led out to the alleyway next to the milk bar.
Her father frowned. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” Isabella shook her head. “You?”
“I never get visitors.” The loneliness in Dad’s voice almost brought tears to her eyes.
“Well then.” She stood and headed across to the stairs. “It looks like someone’s come to visit.”
…
Late in the afternoon when they’d been working together in the shed, Liam had asked Sebastian if he’d go into town and pick up some hay.
“The produce store stays open late on Friday nights. Till six.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll go now.”
“Great farmer you’ll make, wonder boy.” Liam stood there with a grin on his face as Sebastian felt in his back pocket for his wallet and crossed the shed to pick up his helmet.
“What?” Sebastian frowned. Maybe he’d visit Isabella while he was in town, see if she wanted to go out for a spin on the bike. He knew a pretty waterhole just west of town where there was a brilliant view of the sun going down through the willows. He’d grab his camera, too.
“Hay?” Liam shook his head as Sebastian stood there with a frown on his face. “Mate, you’ll need to take Pop’s ute. I don’t think you’ll get even one hay bale on your bike.” He burst out laughing. “Sorry, you should see the expression on your face.”
Sebastian laughed sheepishly. “I’m going to have to get my own ute. That old rattle trap of Pop’s is disgusting.”
“Serves the purpose.” Liam was still smiling. “Did you have other plans while you were in town?”
“Maybe. I might call into the club for a drink. See if any of my old mates are still in town.” He put his helmet back on the bench at the back of the shed. “I might go and see how Isabella’s settled in while I’m there, too.”
The smirk on Liam’s face had reminded him of when they’d been at high school, and Sebastian had been the junior tagging along behind Liam and his friends.
He took Pop’s ute into town, loaded the hay at the produce store, and when he’d finished there he drove past the RSL club, but the car park was deserted.
Not a lot happening there yet. It was probably still too early for the Friday night drinks. He parked the car in the deserted main street outside Con’s Milk Bar.
Sebastian knocked on the side door and waited. Disappointment filled him when there was no answer. He tipped his head to the side. He was sure he’d heard voices upstairs. He raised his hand to knock again just as the door opened and Isabella peeked around.
“Hello.” The smile that lit up her face sent warmth spiralling through him.
It was great to see her again. For the last three days since he’d been home, he kept telling himself that he had to stop thinking about her. She’d only be here a few weeks, and then she’d be heading off to England.
“Sebastian,” she said. “Come on in. Dad was just saying he doesn’t get many visitors.”
He followed her, appreciating the cute bottom that was at eye level as she preceded him up the stairs. Or the tanned legs in the cute little pink shorts.
“Dad, do you remember Sebastian?”
“Of course I do. It’s only been three days since he dropped you off. You think I’m losing the plot? Is that why you’ve come home?”
He held his hand out to Con as Isabella shook her head. “Good to see you again, Con.” He couldn’t think of him as Leonardo.
“Coffee, Sebastian? We were just about to have one. Bella makes the best brew, don’t you, cara mia?”
“That’d be great, thank you.”
He followed Con as the older man gestured towards the sofa. “You sit there and Bella can sit beside you after she makes our coffee.” Con took the single chair in front of the old television set. “Now tell me all about your plans. I hear you’ve come back to Prickle Creek Farm to stay.”
“I have. Time to give Liam a bit of a break and help him out.”
“Harry will be pleased to have his two grandsons home. And his granddaughters.” Con turned and bellowed in the direction of the kitchen. “You hear that, Bella. Sebastian has come home to stay.”
“I’m very pleased for him.” Isabella came in juggling a tray with three cups, a coffee pot, a milk jug, and a sugar basin. Sebastian jumped up and took the tray from her.
“Thank you.”
“Where would you like me to put it?”
“On the coffee table, please.” As she bent and cleared away a stack of newspapers, a couple of pens, and an old TV guide, he tried to avoid looking at the neat little curves beneath her snug T-shirt. As he turned away he intercepted a look, and a satisfied smile, from Con.
A calculating, crafty look. The sort of look that Lucy got on her face when she decided to meddle in someone’s life.
Con stood and waved his hand. “No coffee for me, Bella. I just remembered that I promised I’d play darts in the competition at the RSL club tonight. They were one short.” He smoothed his hands over his sparse hair and winked at Sebastian. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be late.”
“What about dinner?” Isabella’s mouth dropped open as she stared at her father’s back.
The door closed behind him, and Sebastian snuck a glance at Isabella. Her fair cheeks had twin spots of colour high on each side.
“I always seem to
be putting you in embarrassing situations, don’t I?” She shook her head with a smile. “The old rogue!”
“What’s he up to?” Sebastian had a fair idea.
“You’ve come home to stay, and you came to visit, so he immediately conjures up a romance that will make me stay in town with him. I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
“Oh yes.” Even though she looked cross, she laughed with him. “You don’t know my father. He’ll have me married with six bambinos running around before you can take a breath. He’s stubborn and determined, and when he makes up his mind about something he won’t leave it alone until he gets what he wants.” She flopped onto the sofa beside Sebastian. “Believe me, I understand how his mind works because I’m exactly the same.” Her laugh was pretty and soft. “He taught me everything I know about no compromising. So it’s game on.” She looked up at him as she picked up the coffee pot. “Now back to business. Why did you call in?”
After Con’s reaction and Isabella’s response, he thought carefully about his reply. “I was in town and I thought I’d swing by and see how you were settling in.”
She flopped back on the sofa beside him and tipped her head back. “You want the truth. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to see it through. I’m going to do my best to make Dad see reason and close up shop. As soon as I can, maybe even get him to fly to Europe with me. I’ll leave a bit earlier and go to Italy with him. It’s so quiet here. He hardly had any customers today.”
Sebastian frowned. “That’s a shame. And it’s Friday, too.”
“What’s Friday got to do with it?” As she leaned forward, her pretty lemony fragrance drifted around him, reminding him of a trip he’d taken to the Amalfi coast for a photo shoot last month.
“Everyone comes to town on Fridays. That’s what the old farmers do. They come to town to pay their bills, go to the bank, the wives do the groceries, and then they go to the club for dinner.”
She shook her head. “Maybe when you were a kid. But I can swear there were very few people in town today. Besides, there’s no bank anymore. I noticed a sign on the door saying it had shut down a couple of weeks ago.”