‘No way. You and Ryder were a couple?’
‘Ah ha.’ Tabitha cocked her head to one side. ‘It’s my claim to fame. I thought we were in love, but Ryder couldn’t cope when I lost my arm and couldn’t play guitar any more. We broke up. He went solo and became a massive success without me. Guess I don’t really blame him. We were only kids and who knows how long we’d have lasted or whether we’d have got anywhere in the music industry together, but it kinda sucks to have your ex-boyfriend splashed all over social media.’
‘I can imagine.’ Megan sympathised.
‘Are you on Facebook?’ Tabitha asked.
Megan shook her head.
‘Me either. Waste of time if you ask me. Too many people looking at their phones instead of the world around them these days.’ Tabitha spoke as if she were a senior citizen, whereas Megan knew from what Lawson had said that she was the same age as her.
They talked as they ate and Tabitha had been right about the sausage rolls. The pastry was perfectly flaky and the meat more flavoursome than usual. They lamented more about social media. Megan had to pretend she knew more about it than she did. Access to the internet was just one of the many things she’d been denied over the last few years, but unlike fresh air and freedom, she found she hadn’t even missed it. They moved on to talking about the house and when Tabitha asked about the mystery ghost, Megan relayed her frustration at not finding anything so far. They whined about ex-boyfriends—Megan didn’t give much away but discovered Tabitha had almost as little experience as she did.
‘Most men don’t know what to do with a one-armed girlfriend,’ Tabitha joked, but Megan could tell this upset her more than she let on.
The conversation quickly moved on.
‘Lawson said you want to open a tea room slash art and craft gallery here? I think that’s a great idea.’
‘Thanks.’ Megan smiled, it was great to know people had faith in the idea that had landed in her head out of nowhere. Problem was, she might be able to cook and craft, but she didn’t know the first thing about opening or running a business.
Finally, they gushed over Cane—who, despite trying to jump up at them and steal their lunch, they both agreed was one of the cutest dogs either of them had ever known. ‘It’s hard to believe someone as irritating as Adeline could breed something quite as adorable as him,’ Tabitha said, feeding him the last bite of her sausage roll. ‘I hear she paid you a visit.’
Megan nodded. If she liked Tabitha before, her less than glowing opinion of Adeline only made her like her more. They shared a laugh and then Tabitha said, ‘I shouldn’t be so cruel. She means well and she does a lot for our little town, but it’s embarrassing the way she throws herself at Lawson.’
Megan swallowed, willing her cheeks not to turn beetroot at the thought of throwing herself at Lawson. She’d love to ask Tabitha more about him, but didn’t want to sound too interested. She was interested, but she knew she shouldn’t be.
‘Can I get you another drink?’ she asked, trying to distract her thoughts and Tabitha’s.
Tabitha sighed, glanced at her watch. ‘As good as that sounds and as enjoyable as chatting to you has been, I should probably head home and see to my babies.’
‘Babies?’ What else had Lawson left unsaid?
Tabitha smiled. ‘Our calves. I feed them twice a day, and at this time of the year, there’s a lot of mouths to feed. You should come out and see them some time. I challenge you not to fall in love with them.’
Falling in love with cows wasn’t what Megan was worried about.
‘Why don’t you come one day this weekend?’ Tabitha said before Megan had a chance to say anything. ‘We can have a barbecue and I’ll make some salads.’
Every cell in Megan’s body wanted to accept this invitation but her head told her to come up with a good excuse. She liked Tabitha and her brother. Conversing with them was easier than she’d imagined, but spending more time with them could be risky. Getting close to anyone would mean she’d eventually have to open up about her past, and that thought made her chest grow tight. These lovely people likely wouldn’t be so welcoming if they knew what kind of person she’d been. Their rejection would hurt, therefore it would be easier to avoid developing a friendship in the first place.
‘That sounds great,’ she said, offering Tabitha a regret-filled smile, ‘but I’m busy this weekend.’ Hearing how ridiculous that sounded to her own ears, she quickly added, ‘I’m catching up with an old friend.’
She hated lying but what else could she do? This way she was protecting the Cooper-Jones family as well as herself.
Tabitha blinked. ‘Oh, okay. Maybe another time. The invitation is always open.’
She stood to go and Megan had to physically restrain herself from grabbing out to hold onto her a little longer. She’d had such a fun afternoon, experiencing a glimpse of what life could be like with a good female friend.
‘You know,’ Tabitha said, glancing again at the pile of tea-cosies, ‘this might not be your thing at all but we have these country markets in Walsh. They’re usually once a month but in February we’re having two because we get good crowds in the summer. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, if you’d like to sell some of your awesome crocheted items and maybe make some pocket money, I could get you a stand for our next markets, which is not this Sunday but next.’
‘You think people would want to buy my tea-cosies?’ Megan asked, incredulous. The thought of selling her efforts hadn’t crossed her mind.
Tabitha nodded. ‘Sure they would. The market-goers love stuff like that. Do you have any teapots we could use to display them? If not, we might be able to find some in the local op shop. What do you say?’
The way Tabitha said ‘we’ as if they were in this together gave Megan such a buzz. She hadn’t had anyone in her corner since her grandma died. And it would be nice to see her crocheting go to good homes, rather than sit gathering dust in hers. There was also the bonus of making a little cash in hand. Her tummy twisted a little at the thought of everything Tabitha’s suggestion would involve—meeting and talking to new people—but she was feeling brave and found herself accepting the offer.
‘Do you think I can get a table at this late notice?’
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ Tabitha waved her hand. ‘I’ll sort it out and if not, you can set up at the other end of my ice-cream stall. I’ll be in touch.’
Two seconds later, she spoke again. ‘Hang on, did Lawson say you don’t have a phone?’
Megan nodded, feeling silly about this decision and deciding she’d buy a pre-paid mobile when she went to Bunbury, which she’d do on the weekend so she hadn’t been lying about being busy.
Tabitha waved dismissively again. ‘Never mind. I’ll sort out the table and then I’ll drop by next week to confirm. Or I’ll send Lawson.’
‘Okay, thank you.’ As much as Megan liked Tabitha, she couldn’t help wishing and hoping that she would send her brother.
Oh dear … She could feel it in her bones. She was headed for trouble.
Chapter Sixteen
Lawson wasn’t stupid. He knew Tabitha had given him an excuse to go visit Meg but he also had a super-duper one of his own. When he and Ned had visited his grandmother on the weekend, he’d picked her brain on the history of Rose Hill. She vaguely remembered a young woman dying tragically in a shop in Rose Hill when she was a little girl, but couldn’t remember who, which shop or any of the details.
Penelope, Adeline’s grandmother, had been sitting in her recliner nearby at the time. She’d made some sort of moaning noise and opened and closed her mouth as if she had something to add, but since her stroke she hadn’t been able to communicate in a manner that anyone else could understand. Poor old woman; Lawson felt for her—it must be hell on earth to be stuck in a body but no longer able to control it. And he couldn’t help being disappointed for himself and Meg as well—at the very respectable age of a hundred, he reckoned somewhere in the deep crevices of her mi
nd, Penelope might have exactly the information they were looking for.
Still, his grandmother had given him a time period and it was with this knowledge that he drove excitedly to Rose Hill on Monday morning. It had only been a few days since he’d seen Meg but he’d raced through the tasks following milking, desperate to visit her again.
When he finally arrived in Rose Hill just after ten o’clock he saw the door to the old historical society already open. He parked out the front and leaped the few steps onto the tiny verandah.
Meg smiled up at him from the floor where she sat, leaning against a desk, a massive pile of faded newspapers on either side of her. She looked even more beautiful than usual, with the pedestal fan aimed against her blowing her hair and the sun shining in through the open window, framing her head like some kind of angel. A mahogany-headed angel.
‘Hi there,’ she said ‘Have you come to tell me yay or nay about the markets?’
‘Yes,’ he said a little emphatically as he stepped into the building. ‘It’s a yay. Tabitha has registered you for the stall next to hers. You can set up from seven-thirty and the markets open at eight. We’ve got a fold-up table you can borrow if you want? And Tabitha said to say she’s sourced teapots.’
‘Wow. That’s wonderful, thank you. I’ve been spending the evenings crocheting some other things, so I don’t only have tea-cosies to sell. But I’m scared they’re a little naff.’
‘People love stuff like that round here. You’ll be a hit, I’m sure.’
She blushed a little, her cheeks now a few shades lighter than her hair. ‘Thanks.’
‘Looks like you’ve been busy.’ He nodded towards one pile of newspapers. ‘Make any breakthroughs yet?’
She sighed sadly and shook her head. ‘I’m wondering if I’m wasting my time, but I can’t seem to stop. I keep telling myself it’s time to go home and do something productive, but then I convince myself just five more minutes.’
He grinned. ‘You want some help?’
She looked sceptical. ‘You’ve got nothing better to do than help me with my silly mission on this lovely warm day?’
In reply, he dropped to the floor beside her. Truth was he had plenty to do—with farming there was always something to do and never a chance to get bored—but despite the sweat already beading on his forehead due to the oven-like room, he couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. ‘It’s not a silly mission.’
‘Well, thanks.’ She gave him a quick smile and explained her process, starting by pointing to the smaller pile of newspapers. ‘These are what I’ve already been through this morning and this pile is still to check.’
He picked a newspaper off the top of the un-checked pile and glanced at the date. 1944. ‘I spoke to my gran on Sunday,’ he said. ‘She remembers a tragic death when she was a little girl, so maybe we should be looking in the late thirties. Have you found any from that era? I wonder when the paper first started?’
‘In 1922, with the last edition printed in 1976, but I haven’t gone through any from the thirties yet. And unfortunately I’ve come to realise there are a lot of issues missing. You know what amazes me?’ It was obviously a rhetorical question. ‘How a small town like Rose Hill had such a vibrant little newspaper. And there were so many social events happening in and out of town.’
He nodded. ‘These days the community newspaper in Walsh only comes out once a month and they struggle to get content. Not that there isn’t plenty happening these days; it’s just nobody can be bothered reporting on it.’
‘1930s, you reckon?’ she said, pushing to her feet. ‘I think I have a pile over here from back then.’
Standing, she arched her back in some kind of stretch, which pushed her breasts forwards, and Lawson almost swallowed his tongue. Then, oblivious to his gawking, Meg crossed the room and grabbed a stack of yellowed papers from one corner of the room. She returned and dumped them on the wooden floorboards between them. ‘Let’s hope you and your grandmother are my lucky charms.’
He grinned as he plucked a newspaper from the pile, leaned back against the desk and got to work. The way he felt right now, he’d be more than happy to be her lucky charm.
They sat alongside each other on the floor, reading in companionable silence and only occasionally pausing to share something sad or amusing. Lawson’s body was all too aware of how close Meg was to him and if he had a little more guts and it wasn’t so stinking hot in here, he might have made a move, but what if he’d read things wrong? He didn’t want to freak her out. Right now he was simply happy spending time with her and getting to know her better. His hormones would just have to learn some patience while he laid the groundwork.
With that thought, he discarded one newspaper and reached for the next one.
‘Bingo!’ he said as his gaze came to rest on the front page heading: FATAL TRAGEDY AT GENERAL STORE
‘What?’ Meg asked, leaning towards him. Then she gasped in excitement. ‘Oh my God.’
They sat in silence a few moments reading the rest of the article.
Then Lawson said, ‘Reading between the lines, I reckon they think she killed herself.’
Meg vigorously shook her head. ‘No, it can’t be. I know it sounds like that but they’ve gotta be wrong. If someone commits suicide, they’ve chosen to end their life and leave the earth, so why would they linger for almost eighty years more? It doesn’t make sense.’
Lawson frowned. She had a point, but then what did he know about the way a ghost’s mind worked? Until a few weeks back, he’d have adamantly argued that he didn’t even believe in them. ‘Maybe … she … changed her mind. After the event?’
Megan considered this a moment but her brow furrowed and her shoulders slumped. She’d come to have an affinity with the ghost and he could tell she didn’t want to believe that her new friend had made the decision to end her life.
‘How’d she die?’ Megan asked.
Lawson started to read down the article. ‘It says she jumped over the stair railing to her death.’
He shivered as their eyes met. He knew she too was thinking about the undeniable coolness that surrounded her stairs, but then she let out a long, deep sigh.
‘It is definitely not the way I’d do it.’
‘No?’ He tried not to smile. ‘How would you commit suicide?’
She replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘I’d take an overdose of barbiturates. Most painless, hassle-free way as far as I can tell, but, if I was going to jump, it would be from a far greater height than the second floor of a building, so that I was certain of success.’
Despite the temperature in the building, a chill prickled his scalp. Even in his most darkest hour, Lawson had never contemplated taking the easy way out—perhaps because of Ned or because he knew Leah would have been so disappointed in him—but he got the feeling Meg had given it serious consideration. He wanted to know what could have happened to her to make her think of such a thing. Was it right after the deaths of her family? Just as he summoned the courage to broach this topic, his mobile rang.
He cursed silently and would have ignored it had it not been the ring tone he used for Ned’s school. His heart leaped in the way it always did whenever the school called and he dug the phone out of his pocket. ‘I’m sorry. This is the school. I have to answer it.’
‘Of course.’ She took the newspaper from him, turning her attention once again to the contents on the page.
‘Hello, Lawson speaking.’
‘Hi, Lawson, it’s Carline Saunders, here.’ The principal? He’d been expecting Beck again or Ned’s teacher. ‘I’m afraid Ned has been involved in an incident at school and has seriously hurt another student. I’m going to have to ask you come in so we can discuss this.’
He couldn’t believe his ears. Ned had never been in any kind of strife at school before. ‘What did he do? How serious?’
‘I’d rather talk about it in person,’ said the principal, making Lawson feel as if he had done something wrong. ‘N
ed is in my office now and he’s distraught. Can you come as soon as possible?’
Lawson felt like he’d swallowed a brick. If Ned had hurt some other kid, he must have been provoked pretty badly and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. At the same time, he wanted to kick the corner of the desk and sulk like a two-year-old denied cookies. He and Meg had finally stumbled across something interesting and he had to leave.
‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
‘Is everything okay?’ Meg asked when he disconnected.
‘No.’ He shook his head as he stood. ‘Ned’s got into some trouble at school. I’m sorry but I have to go.’
‘Of course.’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘I hope he’s okay.’
‘Thanks. So do I. See you soon.’ He kissed her on the cheek, then stalked out of the building, his fingers curling into fists as he headed for the ute. Those friendly kisses were no longer enough, but now wasn’t the time to try anything more.
A solemn-faced Beck led Lawson into the principal’s office. She smiled sympathetically and patted his arm as she announced his arrival to Carline Saunders, before retreating quick smart.
‘Good morning, Lawson.’ Carline stood from behind her desk and gestured for him to sit in one of the two chairs opposite.
Ned sat in the other chair, his arms folded across his chest and a very un-Ned-like scowl on his face. He glanced quickly up at Lawson and then dropped his gaze back to his feet, which dangled over the edge of the chair.
‘Hi, Ms Saunders,’ Lawson managed, resisting the urge to pull Ned onto his lap as he lowered himself into the seat. ‘What’s going on?’
The principal sat back down, planted her elbows on the desk and then folded her hands as if she were about to pray. ‘Ned and Tate Walsh got into a little bit of a disagreement today and it ended with Ned punching Tate in the face. Your son has a good swing on him, I’m afraid, and it appears he may have broken Tate’s nose.’
Talk of the Town Page 17