Talk of the Town

by Rachael Johns

  ‘Who are The Sunny Cowgirls?’ she asked, as she glanced down at the photo of two blonde beauties.

  ‘A couple of Aussie sisters. They grew up on a farm somewhere in Victoria I think and their lyrics about living in rural Australia are spot on. And funny.’

  She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Hey, don’t mock ’em until you’ve tried ’em,’ he said, nodding towards the stereo.

  Megan replaced the Dixie Chicks with a song called ‘Drinking Down Our Pay’. She couldn’t help laughing as she listened to the lyrics and had to concede their sound wasn’t at all that bad either.

  ‘What kind of music do you listen to?’ Lawson asked, as Cane finally settled down with his head in her lap.

  She stroked his fur absentmindedly. ‘I’m more a rock kinda girl. A little alternative though.’ Truth be told she’d lost track of what some of her favourite groups were doing the last few years, and since she’d been in Rose Hill, she’d been listening mostly to talkback on the ABC. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to name any recent hits.

  ‘What? Bands like Muse? Stone Roses? The Wombats? Or are we talking Red Hot Chili Peppers?’

  ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘Just because I like a little bit of country and pop, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other types of music. I’m an all rounder.’

  Somehow talk of music turned to talk of TV shows and by the time they arrived at the tip, Megan had discovered they had more in common than she’d initially imagined.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ Lawson said, winding down his window to speak to the guy who ran the place. ‘Hey, Tommo. Just got a load of general rubbish.’

  ‘Don’t we have to pay?’ Megan asked as they drove on.

  ‘Yes, but I’ve got an annual pass.’

  ‘I can’t ask you to pay for me,’ she said, feeling nervous and uneasy all over again.

  ‘Relax,’ he said as he search for somewhere to park, ‘I’ve already paid for the pass and you using it won’t stop me using it later.’

  Knowing that objecting too much would be rude, Megan swallowed and said, ‘Thank you.’

  They climbed out, leaving Cane in the ute, as there was no safe place to hook his leash on the ground. He whined while they unloaded the tray, poking his head out the half-open window and giving them puppy dog eyes every time they walked past, so they gave him a quick walk around the ute when they were done.

  ‘This is heaven for him,’ Megan said as he sniffed at something on the ground.

  ‘It’s heaven to Ned as well.’ He smiled as he mentioned his son.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep. Ned is a little bit of a hoarder,’ he said as they got back into the ute. ‘One man’s junk is definitely his treasure—he likes to make things out of old stuff he finds, so I tend to try and do any tip runs when he’s not around, or we’re liable to bring home more than we dump.’

  ‘How is Ned?’ she asked, as she picked up the water bottles she’d brought and handed one to him.

  ‘He’s good,’ he said and then took a long sip.

  ‘No more problems at school, then?’ Megan asked and then drank from her bottle, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down her throat. She clicked her seatbelt into place and grabbed hold of Cane as he tried to climb onto Lawson’s lap.

  Lawson shook his head. ‘It’s only been a few days, but he hasn’t said anything again and he seems happy enough. I think the kids who teased him are not feeling very settled about their own family life. Their parents are in the middle of a messy break-up, but still no excuse to tease Ned about his mum though. He already beats himself up a bit that he can’t remember her.’

  This was Megan’s chance to ask about his wife. ‘How old was he when his mother died?’

  ‘He’d just turned four.’

  A lump formed in her throat. ‘That’s heart-wrenching,’ she said. ‘For you and him.’

  ‘I won’t pretend it was a walk in the park but without Ned I don’t think I’d have coped well at all.’ Although he had his hands on the steering wheel, he lifted his fingers slightly and glanced down at his ring. It was clear he still struggled with his loss and she resisted the urge to reach over and place her hand on his in a show of comfort.

  ‘How long had you been married?’ She wanted to ask if it had been a shotgun wedding, but bit her tongue, unsure if she’d already crossed an invisible line.

  He took a moment and then said, ‘Five years.’

  Not a shotgun wedding. ‘Wow, you must have got married young.’

  Although Lawson kept his eyes on the road ahead, she glanced over and saw his expression tinged with sadness. ‘I’m sorry,’ she rushed. ‘It’s none of my business. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.’

  ‘We met in high school. Her family moved to town when we were both fifteen and I knew from the moment Leah walked into the classroom she was special. She was my first love, first a lot of things.’ He blushed as he said this, which Megan found endearing. ‘She didn’t start out a country girl but she grew into one and loved hanging out on the farm. She was so full of life and good at schoolwork, but also loved sport. It sounds stupid now that I’m older, but I proposed on her eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought we were insane getting hitched so young and then when Ned came along, my mates joked that my life was over.’

  But it was clear from his voice and the smile on his face when he talked about his wife that he hadn’t given a damn what they’d thought and he’d probably do it all over again if he got the chance.

  ‘She sounds like she was a very special person,’ Megan said.

  ‘She was.’ He cleared his throat and glanced again at his ring finger before looking up and flashing her a smile. ‘What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’ Megan asked, her heart seizing up a little. She felt much more comfortable talking about his life.

  ‘You been married before?’

  She snorted.

  He laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a no; but you must have had some significant other in your past. You can’t have got to—what are you? twenty-five?—without some smart guy trying to have his wicked way.’

  Some wicked guy would be more accurate. She shuddered when she thought about how much of herself and how much of her life she’d given to such a man. The only consolation was that he’d somehow managed to overdose in prison a year later and would therefore never be on the streets again to hurt more innocent people. Or come after her.

  ‘Good guess. I am twenty-five,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light, ‘and despite my grand old age, I haven’t had any great romances in my life. How old are you?’

  ‘I’m almost thirty but some days I feel like I’m about a hundred and five.’

  She laughed, totally able to relate. The things she’d experienced aged a girl, so that she doubted now she’d have much in common with women her own age, even if she had such friends.

  ‘However, today, hanging out with you, I don’t feel quite so old. Thanks for entertaining me for a few hours,’ he said and she glanced out the window and saw they were almost back in Rose Hill.

  Although the mood on the return journey had been more sober than on the way to the tip, Megan had enjoyed every second of her afternoon with Lawson. ‘You have a strange idea of fun,’ she joked, ‘but I’m grateful for that. It’ll be nice to be able to sit out on the back verandah without having to look at all that junk.’

  ‘Once you’ve done more clearing, I’ll be happy to help again,’ he said as he pulled into the kerb at the front of her house.

  Taking hold of Cane’s leash, she turned in her seat to look at Lawson. ‘Want to come in for a drink before you go?’ She justified the invitation by telling herself it was wrong not to ask after the good deed he’d done her. And now she knew he was still head-over-heels for his wife, perhaps it wasn’t so dangerous to get to know him better.

  He deliberated a moment and she swore he wanted to say yes, but finally he shook his head. ‘I’ve got to g
et back to work, but are you planning on doing more research in the historical society?’

  ‘Yes.’ As daunting as the task seemed, she didn’t plan on stopping until she’d found information about her housemate.

  ‘Then I’ve got a generator I can lend you, which will give you enough power to vacuum up all that dust. It can’t be healthy breathing it all in. And it’ll also mean you can either plug in a fan during the day, or make the lights work so you can go there when it’s cooler in the evening.’

  ‘Oh, that would be wonderful. Are you sure you can do without it?’ The thought made her happy not only because it would make her research so much more pleasant, but also because it meant she’d see him again. ‘Would you like me to come to your place to pick it up?’

  Lawson shook his head. ‘It’s quite heavy and dirty. I’ll get Ethan to help me. Would it be okay to drop it round tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course.’ It wasn’t as if she had a full diary. She planned on taking Cane into Bunbury for his second lot of vaccinations soon, but aside from that, her schedule was a blank canvas.

  ‘Awesome. I’ll see you both then.’ And with that he reached out and ruffled Cane’s fur. Megan watched his fingers as he did so and couldn’t help imagining what it might feel like to have them touching her.

  ‘Yep, see you then,’ she said, grabbing hold of Cane and opening the car door before this very sexy, very lovely man noticed her blushing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Feeling a little deflated, Megan headed back from the historical society to her house just before midday on Friday.

  ‘Nothing yet,’ she called into the seemingly empty house as she closed the door behind Cane and herself. ‘Want to give me any hints? Any clues where to look?’

  When there was no reply—no wafts of air brushing past her, no strange noises, no doors opening and closing—she laughed at herself. Maybe her search was futile. Was she imagining a presence that wasn’t really there because she was desperate for company?

  Perhaps that was her other reason for being in a funk today. Lawson had, as promised, delivered her the generator the day before and they’d spent another lovely few hours together. He’d set it up for her, helped vacuum and dust and, just like the tipstuff the day before, cleaning had never been so much fun. When they were finished and the historical society no longer a place that required a warning sign on its door, they’d shared a cool drink and more bickies. He’d kissed her on the cheek when he left—the kind of kiss he’d give his grandmother or his sister—but that simple gesture had made every last inch of her quiver.

  He hadn’t made plans to come back and see her. This was a good thing, so why had she spent all night, lying in bed, trying to come up with ways to engineer another meeting?

  Annoyed at herself, she shook her head as she headed down the hallway. She let Cane out to go and dig holes in the yard—luckily she didn’t really have a garden for him to destroy—and then she headed into the kitchen to throw something together for lunch. Cooking usually brought her immense joy, but today she couldn’t be bothered to put much effort in simply for herself, so a toastie would have to suffice.

  As she waited for her sandwich to toast, someone rapped on her front door and she almost jumped out of her skin. It took a second for her heart to jumpstart itself and then it raced off with the thought that maybe Lawson had come back. Perhaps he had news from his grandmother about significant deaths in Rose Hill. Ridiculous hope filling her heart, she ran a hand through her hair and then whipped her lipgloss out of her pocket. Already at the front door, Cane jumped up at it and barked as she walked towards it. She paused momentarily to glance in the hallway mirror, apply said gloss and pinch her cheeks to make her look less like a corpse.

  Since Lawson’s second unexpected drop-in, she’d started making more of an effort with her appearance in the morning. Nothing OTT but she made sure her T-shirts matched her shorts, she actually brushed her hair and may have started using tinted moisturiser as well.

  Yet, as she approached the door her heart sank: she could tell from the silhouette—just visible through all the dirt on her still un-cleaned glass—that it wasn’t him, or Archie. They were both over six foot and this figure was much closer to her own five and a half.

  Could it be Adeline again?

  She cringed at the thought, but then noticed that this person had much darker hair. The knock sounded again. Whoever it was, they were damn persistent.

  Megan contemplated not answering but if she could see the shadow of her visitor, then likely they could see her as well. She opened the door a fraction, ready to send whoever this was on their way.

  ‘Hello,’ said the brunette as Cane jumped at her. She laughed and bent down to stroke him. ‘Cute dog.’

  Damn puppy is a pathetic guard dog, Megan thought for the umpteenth time as she scrutinised the woman. There was something vaguely familiar about her but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  ‘I’m Tabitha Cooper-Jones. Lawson’s sister.’ The woman offered out her hand, which Megan accepted as her words registered. Lawson and this woman had the same deep brown eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry to just drop by like this,’ she continued, ‘but I thought it was time to meet the mystery woman my brother and nephew can’t stop talking about.’

  Megan took an instant liking to Tabitha and not simply because what she said about Lawson made her pulse race with excitement. She also had a warm, genuine smile that reached right to her eyes and she only had one arm. Megan tried not to stare, searching her mind for any recollection of Lawson ever mentioning this. He’d spoken fondly of how capable his sister was and said she’d been through some tough times but surely she’d have remembered if he’d said Tabitha was an amputee.

  ‘Well, hi there,’ she managed, forcing herself to look at Tabitha’s face rather than her arm. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  Tabitha laughed and lifted the stump that finished where her elbow should be. ‘I’m guessing Lawson didn’t mention he calls me the one-armed bandit?’

  Megan swallowed and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to stare.’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry about it. People always do at first.’ She glanced down at the arm in question and then looked back up to Megan. ‘When I was sixteen I had a lump there about the size of a golf ball but our local doc thought it was tennis elbow, so I popped a hell of a lot of painkillers and kept going about my business. Then one day a year later, I went to see a locum and he sent me off for scans. Turns out my tennis elbow was actually a sarcoma. A surgeon tried to remove it, but said it could come back. He was right and just after my eighteenth birthday, I had my amputation.’

  Holy shit. What did you say to a story like that? She didn’t think such medical misdemeanours as Tabitha had described could happen in this day and age. I’m sorry seemed vastly unsatisfactory.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Tabitha said, as if she could sense Megan’s discomfort. ‘I was one of the lucky ones. This type of cancer only ever attacks females under twenty-one and the poor girl that was diagnosed right after me passed away. I may only have one arm, but at least I’m alive, right?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Would you like to come in for a drink?’

  ‘Thanks. That would be great.’ Tabitha pulled a paper bag out from where it had been wedged under her arm and held it high out of Cane’s reach. ‘I brought lunch. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to sample the wares of the Walsh bakery yet, but their sausage rolls are to-die-for.’

  Cane whimpered and Megan smiled. ‘They certainly smell like it. Come on in.’

  As Tabitha stepped inside, Megan closed the door behind them and then led her down the hallway.

  ‘This is such a great old building,’ Tabitha said, glancing up and around her as they walked.

  ‘You’ve never been here before? Lawson said he remembers the shop from when he was a kid.’

  Tabitha shook her head. ‘There’s five years between us and although we might have come when I was little,
the general store closed before I was old enough to remember.’

  In the kitchen, Megan got out two plates and put them on the table. As she went to the fridge to fetch drinks, Tabitha put the sausage rolls onto the plates and exclaimed at all the tea-cosies.

  ‘Oh wow, these are gorgeous,’ she said, reaching out and picking up a black one that had bright yellow sunflowers as a decoration. ‘You make them?’

  Megan nodded as she sat down at the table, waiting for Tabitha to make her feel silly like Adeline had. ‘Crocheting relaxes me.’

  ‘Me too,’ Tabitha said, ‘although I’m nowhere near as good as this. And you must be fast too.’

  It wasn’t the compliment that stuck with Megan. ‘You crochet too?’ she asked, failing dismally at hiding her incredulity.

  Tabitha laughed—she was clearly such a good-natured person. ‘Yes, not only a one-armed bandit but a one-armed crocheter. Among other things. I knit more than I crochet though. It took me a while to get used to it—learning to tie shoelaces again required a lot of patience and putting on bras was a challenge for a few years—but I’m a pro these days. The only thing I truly miss from my two-armed days is playing the guitar.’

  Megan’s heart squeezed. ‘Had you played since you were a kid?’

  Tabitha nodded. ‘Mum played it too. And the keyboard. She was an awesome singer as well and I used to help her round the farm and the kitchen and we’d always be singing something. She taught me to play the basics of the guitar but when she got sick and couldn’t do it any more, Dad paid for professional lessons.’

  ‘Did you play yourself or in a group?’ Megan felt a little rude asking all these questions, but it seemed better than offering sympathy. Tabitha didn’t seem the type to want pity.

  ‘Ever heard of Ryder O’Connell?’ Tabitha smiled as she said this. Everyone had heard of Ryder O’C. He was only the most successful male solo musical artist in Australia at the moment. Or she should say from Australia, as he’d made it big time overseas as well.

  ‘Of course. Why?’

  ‘Before he went solo, he was in a duo with me. He was the brother of one of the girls I went to school with in Perth and we kinda had a thing. On and off stage.’