‘You’ve got a window open upstairs, right?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Nope. I don’t think someone likes what you said about her.’
He shuddered. ‘I was just speculating.’
‘Apologise to her.’ Meg held her chin high.
‘What?’ He scoffed.
‘Apologise,’ she said again, her lips twitching and her eyes sparkling.
‘Fine.’ He smiled as well and then looked upstairs again. ‘I’m sorry, Eliza. I had no right to make such assumptions.’
Immediately, the door that had slammed opened again and seconds later he felt a cool air waft past him. He looked back to Meg and knew from the expression on her face she’d felt it too. He was now a fully-fledged believer.
‘If only she could talk,’ he said, with a sad shake of his head.
‘Sometimes I feel as if she does.’ She paused a moment, then, ‘You know how I want to start the tea room?’
He nodded.
‘Well, that idea just popped into my head, seconds before I told you about it. It was almost as if someone else had thought it, and then …’
‘And then you found out about Eliza’s tea room.’
‘Yes.’
‘Wow.’ He let out a long whoosh of air. Today was making his head spin.
‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I know.’
Cane came barrelling out of the kitchen where they’d left him lying under the table as if he were dead. He must have been jolted from his slumber by the door slamming. He halted by the stairs, skidding on the newly polished floorboards and whined as he looked longingly over at them.
Lawson chuckled, handed Meg the photo, then went over and picked up the pup. ‘You decided to say goodbye after all, did ya? You big scaredy-cat.’
Cane barked once as if disgusted with this tag. Meg laughed and walked with him as he carried the pup over to the front door. She opened it and he put Cane down. He was fairly well trained now—he didn’t bolt whenever he had the chance and he always came back when they called him.
As Cane sniffed the ground near by, Lawson turned to face Meg and placed his hand on her arm. ‘You okay?’
She shrugged one shoulder. ‘I’m not scared of Eliza.’
He chuckled, knowing she knew he didn’t mean that but not wanting to push the issue. She’d finally opened up to him and that was enough for now.
‘Hey, do you mind if I take a photo of that photo to show my gran? Her body might be failing her but her mind’s as sharp as a tack; she might be able to tell us who some of these people are.’
Meg’s eyes lit up. ‘That would be great. If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘To be honest, I’m almost as curious as you about Eliza.’ He got out his mobile, took a quick snap and then leaned forwards and kissed her on the lips, resisting the urge to prolong this goodbye. ‘I’ll call you tonight, okay? And visit Gran tomorrow and let you know if I get any intel.’
She laughed. ‘That’d be great. Thanks.’
‘No worries.’ He almost asked if she wanted to come meet Gran, but when two of the most important women in his life met he wanted it to be special. Maybe he’d bring them both out to the farm for lunch some time soon.
They kissed one final time before he pulled himself away, walked over to his ute and climbed inside. The radio came alive with talkback radio as he turned the key in the ignition, but he barely noticed as he looked back to the house and saw Meg waving. He lifted his hand in return and then finally drove off, his mind full of her and everything she’d told him.
Adeline had been right: Meg had been hiding something. But she’d chosen to tell him and, despite the news of her drug addiction shocking him, he felt like they’d knocked down a wall that had been lingering between them. In some ways, the fact Meg wasn’t perfect made him feel even more affection for her. Leah had always had her shit together. Nothing ever fazed her. Yes, she’d loved him but she’d also been so competent and independent that occasionally he hadn’t felt very needed or necessary.
With Meg, it felt different—he felt as if he could help her heal her past just as much as she was helping him heal his. And that felt bloody good.
He found himself grinning and reached over to switch radio stations—he was in the mood for music, not dry chatter—but as his finger landed on the button, the words ‘dairy crisis’ registered in his head. His smile faded and his hand fell back.
The news wasn’t good—WA Country Milk had just gone public with the announcement that their company was in dire straits and that this week they’d be ‘in discussions’ with some of their farmers.
Lawson’s mood plummeted. What the hell did ‘in discussions’ mean?
Chapter Twenty-seven
The ancient ceiling fans in the Walsh town hall made a dull buzzing noise as they whirred overhead, but did nothing to allay the late February heat. Sweat pooled in Megan’s cleavage. She put her knitting down a for moment and wiped a hand across her brow.
Still, in spite of the less than pleasant temperature, she was truly enjoying the camaraderie of sitting in a circle on plastic chairs, listening to the various conversations as she and the other women knitted. She wasn’t as quick at knitting as she was at crocheting, but no one seemed to care how fast things got done. As well as doing their bit for charity, it was clear this was also a worthy excuse to get together and have a good chat. Tabitha sat beside Megan, knitting almost as quickly with one arm as everyone else was with two and punctuating the chatter with funny remarks that made everyone laugh.
Everyone except for Adeline, who’d barely said a word to Megan when she’d arrived and had sat glowering at her from the other side of the circle ever since.
‘You okay?’ Tabitha said, nudging Megan with her good arm as if she sensed her discomfort.
Megan smiled at her, wondering if Lawson had told her any of what she’d shared on Monday. Tabitha hadn’t acted any differently towards her but then again she didn’t seem the type of person to judge. ‘Yes, I’m really enjoying myself.’
‘Good.’ Tabitha grinned back, then whispered, ‘my brother’s been in a very good mood this week.’
Megan’s cheeks flamed as if they’d been licked with fire.
Tabitha chuckled softly. ‘It’s all right, I don’t want to hear any sordid details, but I just wanted you to know I’m pleased as punch for the pair of you. It’s been a long time since Lawson has smiled like he just won the lottery.’
‘Who won the lottery?’ asked Chloe Wellington, the woman from the markets.
‘No one,’ said the elderly lady sitting next to Tabitha. Beth (if Megan remembered her name correctly) had a blue-rinse bob and spoke with an accent not unlike the queen’s—she’d informed Megan earlier that she’d moved to the country after meeting her second husband (a farmer) online. ‘Tabitha was just saying that Lawson feels like he’s won the lottery now he’s found Meg.’
‘Ooh,’ said Chloe. ‘Are you and Lawson an item?’
Megan swallowed. ‘Well … we … yes, I suppose we are.’
There was a collective sigh all around the circle. All except one of the group appeared overjoyed by this news. So much for Tabitha whispering!
The questions came fast and furious after that. How exactly did you meet? How long has it been going on? Do you get along well with Ned? And grew more and more personal with each one. Where did you come from? Megan shifted in her seat, hoping they didn’t notice her discomfort. Do you have any family near by? Where did you first kiss?
‘Do you think it’s time we break for lunch?’ Tabitha asked, saving Megan from answering this last one. Megan could have kissed her.
‘Good idea.’ Adeline shot to her feet and stalked off into the kitchen.
One by one, the other women put down their knitting needles, stood, stretched their backs and followed. Megan opened the container she’d brought and laid her slice pieces out on a plate as the other women were doing with the food they’d brought. The various dishes were put ou
t onto a couple of trestle tables in the hall and then everyone grabbed a plate and served themselves. There was enough food—sweet and savoury—to feed the whole town and all of it was home-cooked fare.
‘We each take home a plate of leftovers for our families,’ said Beth, who stood next to Megan as she surveyed the offerings. ‘My husband loves our knitting sessions.’
‘I can imagine there’s usually plenty left over,’ Megan replied, as she picked up a curried egg sandwich.
‘You’d be surprised,’ said one of the others. ‘We country ladies know how to eat well.’
They all laughed and then continued piling up their plates.
Chloe came up beside Megan. ‘I wanted to say how happy I am for you and Lawson. My boy Sam and he have been best friends since they were toddlers and he’s like another son to me. It was so tragic what happened to Leah, but Lawson deserves a second chance at happiness.’
Megan just smiled. What had happened to Leah?
Another knitter—Megan thought she’d introduced herself earlier as Kathy—said, ‘He certainly does. After all he’s been through. Leah’s death was such a shock, not just for the family but for our whole town. Walsh had always seemed such a safe place until then.’
There were murmurs of agreement from around the table as the happy chatter of seconds before faded. Megan had no idea what to say to any of these women. She desperately wanted to ask them how Leah had died, but they obviously assumed Lawson had already told her. They had spoken about his wife but she realised he’d never mentioned exactly what had happened to her. Megan had assumed something like cancer or a car accident, but the way these women spoke had her wondering if she’d been barking up the wrong tree.
Now the fact she’d slept with the man but didn’t know how his wife had died seemed embarrassing and somehow wrong.
‘Hmm …’ She nodded and reached for a mini-quiche, noticing her hand was shaking slightly.
Once everyone was seated back in the circle with their plates on their laps, Adeline walked around with a tray of glasses and a jug of iced tea, which was, apparently, her speciality. She served the women sitting either side of Megan but ignored her.
‘You forgot Meg,’ said Beth, who seemed to have taken quite a shine to her.
‘Oh, didn’t you know?’ Adeline smiled nauseatingly. ‘Meg doesn’t drink tea. That’s right,’ she continued before any one else had a chance to say a thing, ‘she makes tea-cosies, but she doesn’t drink tea.’ She glared at Megan and said these last three words with such force and emphasis that Megan jumped a little and almost knocked her plate off her lap.
‘Fair enough,’ said one of the women across the circle. ‘I don’t drink tea either. Or coffee, though I love tiramisu.’
Adeline tsked and continued on serving the others.
‘Don’t take her personally,’ Tabitha leaned close to Megan and whispered, ‘she’s just jealous because she’s had her eye on Lawson since high school. She thought she finally had a chance when Leah was killed and now you’ve come along and blown it.’
Killed? Megan’s scalp prickled. She forced a smile and took a bite of her sandwich.
‘So, Meg,’ Kathy said from across the room. ‘What do you plan on doing with that old building in Rose Hill?’
All gazes returned to her, everyone obviously curious.
Tabitha nudged her again and smiled in encouragement. ‘Tell them about the tea room.’
So Megan swallowed her mouthful and told everyone about her plans to start a business. ‘It’ll be a café slash art and craft shop type thing. Showcasing local stuff, I’m hoping.’
‘She’s going to sell my ice-cream,’ Tabitha announced.
Megan nodded, nerves making her talk fast. ‘I’m still thinking through the details and I have a lot of work to do on the building before it’ll be even close to being possible. But I like a challenge.’
‘Oh.’ Kathy waved a hand in front of her face. ‘It won’t take as long as you imagine. Not if we all get involved and help.’
‘Lawson suggested a slab party,’ Tabitha said and everyone there (all except one again) nodded their enthusiasm.
More questions followed about the structural things that needed to be fixed and Meg’s vision for the tea room’s appearance. Consumed with Lawson and Eliza-research, she hadn’t had a chance yet to think about this in great detail, but she found herself making it up as she went along.
‘I want it to be quite old-fashioned—with framed black and white photos on the walls. I’ve been doing some research at the historical society and I’d love to use some of the old photos of Rose Hill. Maybe even frame some of the newspaper’s front pages.’
‘Who is going to come to a café so far off the main road?’ Adeline asked, but nobody bothered replying. If Adeline had been nicer, Megan may have felt sorry for her but as things stood she couldn’t summon one iota of sympathy.
‘I think that’s a splendid idea,’ said a woman knitting a hot pink jumper. ‘You could have antique-look furniture as well.’
‘Ooh yes, and fine china teapots dressed up in your gorgeous crocheted tea-cosies,’ said another. ‘You could sell them too and other gift items.’
Megan couldn’t help smiling at their enthusiasm and her thoughts of Lawson’s wife faded as she made a mental catalogue of all the ideas. The suggestions kept coming as they finished their lunches, carried the plates back into the kitchen and washed up as if they were a well-oiled machine. When the leftover food was boxed up for the spouses and the kitchen looking as if it had never been used, the women went back to the chair circle to keep knitting.
‘Have you thought of what you’re going to call your business?’ asked Beth as she plonked herself back down in her plastic chair.
‘Well,’ Megan began, wondering if she were crazy to tell them about Eliza, ‘you know the rumours about Rose Hill being haunted?’
‘Yes,’ said everyone at same time, all leaning forwards in their seats.
‘I’ve felt a presence in the building with me.’ Goose flesh rose on her arms as she told them about the coolness near the stairs, the noises and the way the tea room idea had landed in her head as if not quite her own. ‘Lawson suggested I do some research on the building, you know, see if anyone had died there, and I discovered that a woman named Eliza Jane Abbott died, fell over the stair railing to her death. Or rather, the story goes that she jumped over the stair railing.’
Chloe gasped. ‘She committed suicide?’
Megan hadn’t meant to go into all this detail, but she shook her head. ‘That’s what the newspaper said happened but I get the feeling there’s more to it. You see, the day before she died, she opened a tea room at the front of the general store and there was definitely excitement in the town about the ladies having somewhere to go and drink tea while the men were at the pub. So why would she kill herself?’
‘Love!’ exclaimed Beth. ‘It’s always down to love.’
‘I can’t believe you guys are talking about this,’ Adeline piped up. ‘What are you all? Fifteen? I thought ghost stories were for high school slumber parties.’
Once again, her objection went unnoticed.
‘So what do you think happened to her?’ asked another woman, her knitting needles poised in mid-air.
Megan shrugged and then looked to Adeline, wondering if it would alienate her more if she told them what else she’d found. Then again, she owed the other woman no favours.
‘I think it’s something to do with love like you said, Beth. You see I found a photo of her and a man and it’s clear they had something going on.’
‘Do you know who he is?’
She shook her head. ‘Lawson was going to ask his grandmother.’
‘But she was unwell yesterday,’ Tabitha finished. ‘Hey, let’s get him to text the photo to us and see if anyone here recognises the man in question.’
‘Ooh, yes, do,’ encouraged the others.
Before Megan could say anything, Tab had whipped out her
mobile and was shooting off a text.
‘Aren’t we supposed to be here knitting?’ Adeline’s protests went unnoticed as the women continued speculating about the mystery of Eliza.
After less than a minute, Tabitha’s phone beeped. ‘Bingo,’ she said, glancing down at the screen.
The women passed the phone around the circle, each of them shaking their head and sighing in disappointment when they couldn’t recognise the man. When the phone got to Adeline, Megan expected her to refuse to look, but instead she glanced down and her face went pale.
‘That man was my great-grandfather!’ she exclaimed.
‘Henry or Edwin,’ asked Chloe, who was clearly familiar with both sides of Adeline’s family tree.
‘Henry,’ she replied through gritted teeth, narrowing her eyes at Megan. ‘So you must have it wrong. There’s no way he and your stupid ghost were together. Henry and my great-grandmother, Penelope, were childhood sweethearts. He only ever had eyes for her.’
‘Funny,’ mumbled a woman about Beth’s age, ‘that’s not what my late sister-in-law used to say. She was Henry and Penelope’s niece, and she said they fought worse than cats and dogs.’
Adeline glowered at Megan but everyone was too busy snickering and hypothesising about Eliza to notice.
‘Perhaps Eliza was Henry’s true love and they were having a passionate, secret affair,’ Beth said, clearly a lover of romance and drama.
Meg couldn’t help but smile.
‘Or maybe,’ added Tabitha, her eyes gleaming as she darted them towards Adeline, ‘he got her pregnant and killed her to avoid a scandal!’
‘Tabitha Cooper-Jones!’ Adeline exclaimed. ‘That is simply ludicrous. And I won’t have you all badmouthing my family like this.’
Some of the other women raised their knitting up a little to try and hide their chuckles.
‘Aw, Adeline dear.’ Chloe, who was sitting next to her, reached across and patted her hand. ‘No one means any harm. Whatever happened it was almost a century ago.’
But Tabitha had got Megan’s mind ticking. Could that have been what happened? It wasn’t actually a stretch of the imagination to consider someone related to Adeline capable of murder. Perhaps she should turn her research efforts on him and see what she could dig up.
Talk of the Town Page 27