‘Well, whatever happened to her,’ she said, feeling a chill down her spine, ‘I’ve decided to name the business Eliza’s Tea Room in her honour.’
All (except one) agreed this was a fantastic idea. The conversation continued in the same vein until someone mentioned the dairy crisis and then the mood in the room changed from frivolous to funereal. Not knowing enough to participate, Megan didn’t say anything but focused on her knitting and listened. Apparently one of the big milking companies was in a bad way and of course the farmers that supplied them would suffer as a consequence. The women spoke about a local family—the Baxters—who’d recently lost their contract with their milk processing company.
‘I really feel for them,’ said Chloe. ‘With three young mouths to feed, it’s an awful situation to be in.’
‘And the thing is,’ said another woman, ‘if it can happen to them, then it can happen to any of us.’
There were murmurs of agreement as they contemplated the worst case scenarios and discussed possible solutions. Megan started to worry about Lawson and Tabitha, who had already gone through so much in their lives, but the more the women talked, the less she understood, and her thoughts drifted elsewhere. Talk of the dairy crisis faded into background noise and she again began to hypothesise about what might have happened to Leah Cooper-Jones.
Why had she never asked Lawson how his wife had died?
The truth was she hadn’t asked him too many questions about anything because she didn’t want to have to answer any of his, and also, she hadn’t wanted to know too much about his wife. But now she did. Now she itched to know so that she didn’t feel like a fool when people started talking about Leah’s tragic death.
Maybe she’d drowned? Committed suicide? Nah, that didn’t fit—and surely Lawson would have said something when they’d been discussing Eliza possibly killing herself. Could she have died in some sort of awful farming accident? Been trampled by a cow? Then again, what was it Kathy had said about the town feeling safe until then? The skin on the back of Megan’s neck crawled and she just wanted this day over so she could call Lawson and ask him.
Finally, just before three o’clock, Chloe remembered that the after school drama club used the hall on Wednesday afternoons. There was a mad rush to pack up all their stuff and then Megan found herself enveloped in hugs as the other women gushed about how happy they were that she’d joined them.
Outside in the car park, she was garnering the courage to ask Tabitha about Leah, when the other woman leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Really sorry, but I’ve gotta rush to do my calves. Got a CWA meeting tonight, which unfortunately means Lawson won’t be able to sneak out to see you until later.’ She winked. ‘Chat soon.’
Her heart sinking, Megan nodded. ‘Thanks for looking out for me today.’
Tabitha grinned. ‘I didn’t have to do anything. Everyone loves you.’
As her new friend turned towards her car, Megan retreated to her own, slumped into the seat and then dug her mobile out of her handbag. She brought up Lawson’s number and hit call. The phone pressed against her ear, she counted the rings, willing him to pick up, but the call finally went to message bank.
‘Hi, you’ve reached Lawson, sorry I missed you. If ya leave a message after the beep, I’ll get back to you ASAP.’ And then came the promised beep.
Megan signed, pasted a smile on her face and left a chirpy-sounding message. ‘Hey, it’s … Meg … Just wanted to say hi and tell you about my knitting club shenanigans, but we’ll chat later. Bye.’
She’d almost said ‘love you’ before she disconnected but she swallowed the words just in time. They would have surprised her as much as they did him. They’d barely known each other a month, but it felt like a natural thing to say and she realised suddenly that was because she did love him.
Oh Lord, how she loved him.
No one had ever made her feel like Lawson did. He was her every thought, her every breath. When they were together, she felt like the luckiest girl alive and when they were apart, she could think of nothing but him.
Frustrated, she dumped her phone on the passenger seat, but just as she shoved the car keys into the ignition, she remembered Google.
Why on earth hadn’t she thought of it before? Any normal person would have googled the hell out of a new love interest! Yet, quite aside from the fact she’d become accustomed to life without the internet, Lawson had seemed so straightforward that an online search had never crossed her mind.
She snatched her mobile back up and found the internet search icon. It felt a little stalkerish searching her boyfriend’s dead wife and she knew from experience you couldn’t trust everything written in print, but she was rapidly running out of ideas. Without thinking too much more about what she was doing, she typed Leah Cooper-Jones onto the screen and pressed Go.
Three seconds later she had a list of websites—the first few were Facebook and Twitter accounts belonging to various Leah Coopers, then there was an American actor, and finally …
‘Oh my God!’ Megan gasped as she looked down at the screen. No. No! She wished she could turn back time and un-see this. It was worse than she could ever have imagined. Her whole body began to tremble, but she tried to steady her hand so she could keep the screen still long enough to read past the headline.
An 18-year-old man will face court charged over the death of a pregnant woman who was working at a petrol station in the southwest town of Walsh. The woman, 24-year-old Leah Cooper-Jones, died after being shot in the chest during an armed robbery. Local volunteer ambulance officers—who knew Mrs Cooper-Jones well—tried to revive her, but she and her unborn baby died at the scene. Mrs Cooper-Jones has a four-year-old son with her husband, a local dairy farmer. The devastating incident has left this close-knit rural community in shock.
Before she’d even finished reading the last sentence, Megan wrenched open her car door, leaned out and threw up everything she’d eaten at lunch onto the hot black bitumen of the car park.
She felt as if she’d been the one to put the bullet in Leah’s chest.
Once she thought she’d finished vomiting, she swigged from her water bottle, wiped her mouth and then closed her eyes as she tried to regulate her breathing. But it was no good. The moment her eyes were shut, images flashed up in front of her eyelids—images she’d spent the last four and a half years trying to forget. It was so real—the click of the trigger, the sharp piercing sound of the gunshot and then blood. So much blood. Everywhere.
‘Oh my goodness, Meg, dear. Are you okay?’
So lost in her own horror, she hadn’t heard the footsteps of Beth, but she recognised her prim and proper voice without even opening her eyes. The sound of the older woman’s concern only made her want to throw up more, but somehow she swallowed it, opened her eyes and glanced up. Better Beth than Adeline.
Megan grimaced and placed a hand on her stomach. ‘I think I must have eaten something that disagreed with me.’
‘You poor love, I hope it wasn’t my egg sandwiches.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so; those were delicious.’ Although her stomach rolled at the thought.
Beth frowned. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’
‘No thanks.’ She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, desperate not to cry in front of this woman. ‘I think I just need to go home and lie down.’
‘You’ll be right to drive?’
‘Yes. I think I’ll manage.’ That really was the least of her problems.
‘Well, then, I’d better be getting home to Howard.’ Beth heaved her handbag up on her shoulder. ‘But you look after yourself, love.’
‘I will, thanks.’ Her heart racing, she forced a smile and waved the elderly woman off. Then, she swung her legs back into her car and closed her door with a thud. She felt as if it wasn’t just the car door slamming, but also other doors that had recently opened for her. She’d been so stupid, so damn naïve, to even think she might actuall
y get to have a happy ever after.
With this heavy thought in her heart, Megan turned the key in her ignition, briefly looked into her rear-view mirror and then reversed. Part of her believed she should drive out to Lawson’s farm now—to hell with the fact that Ned would also be home—but she couldn’t bring herself to do so in her current state. She couldn’t face him. Not yet.
Instead, she detoured via the pub’s drive-through bottle shop, and, with barely a thought to what she was doing, bought herself a bottle of wine and then headed out of Walsh towards Rose Hill. Archie had been dog-sitting Cane all day and, while she craved the comfort of her dog, the last thing she felt like doing was making conversation.
Come on, she cajoled herself as she parked her car at the service station and climbed out. This is nothing compared to what you will have to face soon.
Unless she just left. Running would certainly be easier than telling Lawson the truth now she knew exactly how Leah had died, but where would she run to?
Argh. Her head ached as she put her hand on the latch to open the side gate. On the other side, Cane leaped up and barked with excitement. His love and affection were so uncomplicated—even if he knew exactly what she’d done in the past, it wouldn’t change the fact he adored her in the present. Today, that thought made her eyes sting as she fought back tears and pushed open the gate.
‘Hello, hello,’ Archie said, coming out of his house as Cane jumped up at her. He had paint splattered all over his clothes as if he’d been deep in his art. Usually she’d ask to see what he’d been painting but she just wanted to get home and crawl into bed with her bottle of cheap wine.
She managed a weak smile. ‘Hi.’
Archie’s grin faded and his brow furrowed. ‘You all right, missy? You don’t look so great. Were the old biddies at the knitting thing not that welcoming? Small towns do tend to have their cliques and—’
Megan shook her head interrupting him. ‘No. They were all lovely. Very friendly.’ She placed a hand against her stomach and made a face. ‘I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden.’
‘Ah.’ Archie held out his hands and chuckled. ‘Don’t come near me then. I haven’t been sick in decades and I don’t plan on starting now. You go home to bed and rest up. Do you want me to keep Cane a little longer?’
‘Thanks, but I …’ Her voice drifted off as she struggled not to fall apart. ‘I want him with me.’
Archie nodded. And then she left. Cane bounded to the car and when she opened the passenger door, he leaped up into the front seat as if jumping into cars were an Olympic event. His boundless energy seemed somehow wrong considering her current mood. She should take him for a run—it would no doubt be good for both of them—but what she should do and what she wanted to do were two different things.
So instead Megan drove the short distance up the road, parked her car, grabbed her bag and the wine bottle and then followed Cane up to the house. She slipped her key into the lock and pushed the door open. He ran inside, taking a wide berth around the stairs as he ran towards the back door. He loved being out in the yard—sniffing around the weeds and digging up the dirt—and no doubt wanted her to open the door and let him out. But even that seemed like an effort.
Unable to even summon the energy to climb the stairs to bed, she took her bottle of wine into the front room and fell onto the old weathered sofa. Then, she unscrewed the cap—thank God not all bottles had corks these days—and took an undignified swig. Who needed glasses when your world was falling apart?
She drew her knees up to her chest and let out a gut-wrenching sob. Cane came barrelling into the room, took one look at her and then climbed up onto the sofa beside her. She wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the wine bottle around him and buried her head in his soft, white fluffiness. The tears fell fast and furious down her cheeks as she sculled the wine from the bottle, willing the alcohol to knock her out so she could erase today’s discovery from her mind.
‘I should have bought two bottles,’ she muttered as she raised the bottle and saw it was already half gone.
Cane looked up and cocked his head to one side as if trying to work out what she was saying.
‘Why can’t life just cut me a break?’ she asked him. ‘I wish I’d never come here. I wish I’d never met Lawson. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was full of shit.’
Don’t give up on him. True love is worth fighting for.
Megan snapped her head up and glanced towards the door. The unknown voice in her head sounded so much louder than usual that she fully expected to see someone standing there, but of course there was no one. She’d probably imagined the words—wishing someone would make her believe them to be true.
Yet, when Cane also whimpered as if he’d heard it, Megan’s heart beat faster. She stroked his head, wanting, needing the comfort of both him and Eliza.
‘Eliza?’ she whispered staring at the open doorway and out towards the stairs. ‘Did you love Henry Walsh?’
She held her breath a moment and although there was no direct answer back, Cane whimpered again. Perhaps she should get her hands on a Ouija board and try and contact Eliza through that. But almost the moment she had this thought, she rejected it. For some reason the idea didn’t sit right and anyway, she felt certain she knew the answer to her question. Henry had loved Eliza. A picture spoke a thousand words and the look between Eliza and Henry in the photo was one of true love.
In her heart, she simply couldn’t believe that Henry had murdered her.
But if Eliza didn’t kill herself and Henry didn’t do it either, then who did?
Before she could contemplate this question, her mobile phone started ringing. Cane leaped off the couch and started barking at the doorway. She wasn’t sure if he was barking at Eliza or at her phone, which was buried in her bag by the front door, but the horror of not answering and Lawson worrying about her, and dragging himself and Ned out here to check if she was okay, forced her legs into action. She couldn’t let them see her like this.
As Megan stumbled across the room, she knocked her knee on the corner of her makeshift coffee table but barely registered the pain; it had nothing on the ache in her heart. She thrust her hand into her bag, yanked out the phone and slid her finger across to answer the call before she could chicken out.
‘Hel-lo.’
‘Hey, Meg.’ Lawson sounded his usual cheerful self and her heart squeezed. ‘Tabitha just told me all about knitting club. I can’t believe that dude was Henry Walsh.’
‘I know,’ Megan whispered, ‘I …’ She didn’t know what to say.
‘Meg? Are you okay?’ Lawson’s voice swam with care and concern. ‘You sound weird.’
‘I’m … I’m …’ Having a panic attack. Drunk and desolate. About to break your heart. ‘Not feeling well. Stomach thing,’ she spat out. A little voice in her head said she should stop prolonging the agony and just tell him the damn truth but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.
‘Oh no, did it come on quick? Tabitha didn’t mention you weren’t well. Was it something you ate?’
If only that were the problem. If only she’d never read that article online. If only she’d made better choices after her family had died. If only her house had never burned down. If only … was the most pointless game on the planet. All those things had happened and she couldn’t change them.
‘Maybe,’ she finally whispered, her fingers clutching the phone.
‘Geez, you sound terrible,’ he said, his tone no longer amused. ‘I’ve got to finish the milking but Ned and I will come over straight after that. Can I bring you anything? Lemonade? Something from the chemist?’
‘No!’ She swallowed and tried not to sound so appalled by the idea. She desperately wanted to see him but at the same time she never wanted to see him again. ‘Isn’t Tabitha out tonight? I don’t want you to bring Ned over and risk you two getting sick if it isn’t food poisoning. Please, I’ll be fine. I’m just gunna p
ut myself to bed and hopefully sleep it off.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, okay then.’ A deep sigh came down the line. ‘But I’m gunna miss you tonight.’
Her heart clenched and more tears threatened at his words. She thought she’d cried it all out. ‘Me too,’ she whispered back. But she wasn’t just talking about tonight.
‘And it doesn’t feel right knowing you’re not well and all by yourself over there.’
‘I’m not by myself. I’ve got Cane. And Eliza.’ If things were different she would tell him about just how close Eliza felt right now, but she just wanted to get him off the phone.
‘They better look after you,’ he said. ‘I’ll let you go and I won’t call or text because I don’t want to disturb you if you’re sleeping, but if you need anything or you get worse, call me and I’m there. All right?’
Megan pressed her lips together, trying to fight back the tears. ‘All right,’ she finally managed.
‘Bye, Meg.’
‘Bye, Lawson.’ She went back into the lounge room, where she lifted the wine bottle again and took another huge gulp. For so many years no one had given a damn if she got sick. And now there was Lawson and he cared, but would he still feel the same when she told him the rest of her story?
Chapter Twenty-eight
Lawson woke even earlier than usual on Thursday morning and his first thought was Meg. He rolled over and snatched his phone off his bedside table, worried he might have slept through an SOS call. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw he hadn’t and immediately started tapping out a message.
Hope you’re feeling better this morning.
His hand hovered over the screen a moment and then he added love Lawson. He might only have known Meg for a few weeks but she’d made more of an impact on him and his life than anyone had in the last four years.
He hoped she had her phone switched off or on silent because he didn’t want to disturb her, but he wanted her to know the moment she woke up that he’d been thinking of her. She’d sounded awful and it had killed him not to be able to go to her.
Talk of the Town Page 28