by Cathryn Hein
Relax? Teagan wasn’t sure she knew how to do that anymore. Relaxing meant thinking, and that never led anywhere good.
‘Sitting around is making me tense. Do you have any fencing gear? Wire strainers?’ At Vanessa’s ‘you’re kidding’ expression, she added a hopeful, ‘Pliers?’
‘I don’t think so. If I need anything done there’s usually someone willing to help.’
‘The fan club?’
‘They’re very handy. Although, I always insist on paying them.’ Ness paused. ‘Just not in the way they hope.’
They looked at one another and laughed.
‘How on earth are you related to my mother?’ asked Teagan. ‘You couldn’t be less alike if you tried.’
‘I’m sure Penny’s wondered that often herself.’ Ness watched Blanche delicately walk the rail, tail flexing like a lemur’s as it helped her balance. Although, from the glaze in her aunt’s eyes, Ness was clearly elsewhere. ‘If she only knew.’
‘Knew what?’
Ness blinked and refocused. ‘That it was her fault I turned out the way I did.’
Intrigued, Teagan shifted to incline forward. ‘How?’
‘You’ll laugh.’
‘Probably.’ She grinned. ‘But I’ll do it nicely.’
‘When I was twelve, Penny brought home a box of books she’d picked up at a jumble sale. There were all sorts of things in that box, from cookbooks to Ian Flemings to crochet patterns. But hiding at the bottom were a stack of Mills and Boon romances. Penny showed them to Mum, who told her to put them on the bonfire heap.’
‘And you stole them off.’
‘I did indeed.’ The smug memory of her daring tugged at Vanessa’s mouth. ‘Those books took me on the most breathtaking adventures imaginable. I rode camels with sexy sheiks, drove the Tuscan hills with Italian millionaires, was wined and dined by the British heirs of banking empires.’ She sank back and closed her eyes in a way that made Teagan envious of all the emotion she’d experienced. ‘I fell in love, dozens of times. You have no idea.’
No, Teagan didn’t. The last time she’d been properly in love was age seventeen, with a young dairy farming lad from Port Andrews, south of Levenham. When that inevitably and painfully ended, as so many teenage romances did, her relationships became casual. As time passed and opportunities to meet decent single men became fewer, and Em’s disappointments and her other friend Jasmine’s disastrous affairs made her warier, the flings petered out. For the last five years there’d been nothing. Teagan thought she’d learned to live with it, but now the thought of all that missed passion made her feel even emptier.
‘Those stories gave me dreams I was determined to chase. So I did. The moment I’d saved enough for a plane ticket I was gone.’ Ness sobered. ‘Unfortunately, my leaving broke Dad’s heart. He was a darling man, so kind, and being so much younger I was always his baby girl.’ Her voice quietened. ‘Your mother never really forgave me for that.’
This was news to Teagan. ‘I thought it was the multiple marriages she couldn’t forgive you for.’
‘No, it was the way I hurt Dad, but they didn’t help.’
Teagan rested her head against her chair. ‘I wish I could turn back time. Do what you did. What Owen did.’ At the mention of her brother’s name her heart gave a squeeze of jealousy and regret. Leaving home to backpack around Europe had shown Owen not only new horizons, but love and happiness. Things that might have been Teagan’s too, had her dreams been bigger. ‘But I could never bring myself to leave the farm.’
‘Now you have.’ Ness reached across to pat her arm. ‘Which means from here on in it’s all adventure.’
*
‘Have you heard?’
Lucas turned to the man who’d snuck up behind him and suppressed a sigh as he recognised Colin Walker. He kept his body half facing the bowling club’s old-fashioned formica-and-timber bar, not rude but not welcoming either. It was Saturday night. All he wanted was a quiet beer and a relax. Col had a way of making him want to drink too much of the former and destroying any hope of the latter.
‘How are you, Col?’
Col ignored the greeting, grey eyes bulging with overexcitement. ‘Kathleen was right. The fence was just the start.’
Lucas took a good swallow of beer. The Wellness Centre. The locals either loved or hated it. Even though his daughter, Margaret, worked there as a cleaner, Col stood firmly in the hate camp. More thanks to his sycophantic relationship with Kath Ferguson than any rational consideration.
He glanced over at the cricket club sign-up desk, where Dunks sat with his cashbox, paperwork and pen poised, attempting to look professional and captain-like in his blue baggy cap and Falls Falcons blue-and-gold polo shirt. The club’s redesigned logo – a swooping bird with a stump in its mouth – was embroidered boldly over one chest. Behind him hung the club’s new banner, also in blue-and-gold livery.
All thanks to the Wellness Centre. Not that Col gave a shit.
Another breathless proclamation broke the bowling club’s amiable quiet. ‘Word’s getting around.’
Lucas didn’t want to ask. He just wanted to enjoy his beer and think about Teagan Bliss for a while, but until he did, Col wouldn’t leave him alone. ‘What word would that be, Col?’
‘Expansion.’ Col fairly hissed each syllable.
Lucas shrugged. ‘More work for Maggie then. You’ll be able to take the van to Yamba again.’ And give his long-suffering daughter some peace. Thanks to Col taking up residence in her backyard in his clapped-out caravan, the poor woman hadn’t had a life of her own since. But she was a kind-hearted sort and an only child, and felt it her duty to take care of her father.
‘What?’ said Col, confused. ‘No!’
He sidled even closer. Lucas tried to stop himself looking down but couldn’t. Sure enough, Col was in his shrunken stubbies, skinny legs sticking out like a pair of petrified twigs.
‘You know what this means.’
‘Let me guess. More cricket club members?’
Col finally realised Lucas was taking the piss out of him. ‘This is serious, boy. Our village has been over-run by them as it is.’
As he finished the sentence, one of ‘them’ waltzed into the club and walked up to Dunks.
‘This where we sign up for the cricket team? Only I need to be quick. Chopper’s waiting.’
Lucas heard the air seething through Col’s false teeth as he sucked in outraged breaths. Meanwhile, Dunks had the papers out and a pen in the man’s hand before he could blink.
Vanessa’s venture capitalist neighbour Callum Albright. Though Lucas had only met him once, Vanessa had warned him and Dunks that Callum intended to join the Falcons and there was no mistaking that arrogant stance or the superior manner in which he swept his gaze around the bowlo. Here stood a man who thought he mattered. The massive architect-designed pile he’d built yelled the same with its full-sized pool, tennis court and helipad. Not that any of those features could be seen from the road. Callum at least had some discretion, which was just as well according to some locals. Blow-ins like him could keep their cocaine-snorting parties to themselves.
Lucas couldn’t care less how the bloke viewed himself, but he did think it a shame that what was once productive farmland was now reduced to a rich man’s playground, although that could be said for most of The Falls. It rankled, too, that Vanessa had chosen to sell rather than lease the property to someone who’d use it properly. Deep down Lucas couldn’t blame her, not when he’d heard the money on offer, but still.
Callum caught Lucas’s gaze on one of his sweeps. Lucas raised his glass. The bloke was to be his teammate, after all. He received a cool nod in reply before Callum returned once more to his paperwork, signed with a flourish and strode back out.
As soon as the door swung closed, Lucas wandered over to Dunks, Col shuffling and chuntering behind.
‘That makes seven,’ said Dunks, eyeing the list and scratching worriedly at his five-o’clock shadow.
&nbs
p; ‘We’ll get there.’ Lucas winked at Col. ‘Col here could play in slips.’
Col’s hand immediately went to his back, the very back that had supposedly kept him on a disability pension for years while his wife had worked her guts out to support the family. ‘Couldn’t possibly. Terrible back.’
Lucas shared a look with Dunks. Everyone knew Col did cash work on the sly at a vegie farm in the next valley. ‘Tony coughed up yet?’
Dunks shook his head and stared morosely at the cashbox. ‘I don’t think he’s going to. Always thought he was full of it.’
‘I’ll have a word. Want a beer?’
At Dunks’s nod, Lucas escaped to the bar, relieved when Col stayed behind. The old boy appeared harmless at first glance, but he was a gossiping old git with nothing better to do than stir up trouble. The Falls would be a peaceful place if not for the likes of Col and Kathleen Ferguson.
Lucas chatted with Arnie the barman about horseracing as he waited for their beers. For some reason everyone seemed to think Lucas was good for tips, but he had no interest in racing beyond the income it brought his farrier business. He didn’t do much with the thoroughbred industry these days anyway. Mostly he dealt with hobby and performance horses. They were far more lucrative, although the owners could be pains in the arse.
Lucas didn’t mind making conversation. Arnie had been around in the district even longer than Col and knew everything, in particular the virtue of discretion. The club was dowdy and old-fashioned, with commemorative boards dating from the fifties lining the walls, worn carpet and mismatched furniture. But Lucas liked its community feel. Its air of country welcome and unpretentiousness. It reminded him a bit of his nan and pop’s old place in the outer western Sydney suburb of St Marys.
The club door opened again as Lucas returned with the beers. He and Dunks stared at it hopefully but the new arrival turned out to be Bunny.
She grinned and strode over. ‘How are my favourite toyboys?’
They both grinned back, while Col, who was still hovering, scowled. Bunny might be over fifty, but she was a fine specimen of womanhood, didn’t tolerate crap and could drink like a man. Swore like one too when the mood took her. On first meeting, Bunny had made no secret of her interest in Lucas. He’d been tempted and told her so, which had made subsequent encounters flirty affairs. But he’d quickly learned how fast gossip travelled around the valley and decided to keep his nose clean. Bunny hadn’t minded. She hadn’t really expected him to take up the offer and had better luck with Dunks, who was at that time newly divorced and with his ex-wife, Angela, having majority custody of their two girls, finding single life and an empty house lonely. Despite their age difference, the pair had enjoyed a couple of flings. Dunks said she’d worn him out so much he could barely get out of bed the next morning. Which was funny because Vanessa had mentioned that Bunny had said the same of Dunks.
Bunny flipped around the clipboard containing the sign-up sheet and gave it a quick scan. ‘Never mind, Cherub,’ she said, using the nickname she’d given Dunks when they’d started shagging and which, to Lucas’s bemusement, his mate didn’t appear to mind in the slightest. ‘It’s early days.’
Dunks tossed down his pen and reached for his beer. ‘I need to have the full team in to the association by next month.’
Bunny patted his head. ‘I’ll ask around.’ She turned to Lucas. ‘How was Claudia?’
‘Good. She’s coming on well.’
She nodded, but he could see the sparkle in her eye and knew the next question would be about Falls Farm’s new arrival.
Instead, Col butted his way in, speckled head aglow under the club’s fluoro lights. ‘Have you heard?’
‘It’s a fence, Col,’ said Lucas, not bothering to hide his exasperation. ‘Not the bloody Berlin Wall.’
‘No! The rest.’
Bunny flicked a look at Lucas and settled her features into concerned interest. With Col spending so much time hanging around the village shops, pouncing on unsuspecting locals and the occasional bewildered outsider, she understood the game better than anyone. ‘What rest?’
‘Expansion!’
‘Of what? The ozone layer? Some soapie star’s boobs?’ Bunny ducked her head to peer closer and sucked in a mock-shock breath. ‘Not the caravan?’
Col was practically flapping and cawing in frustration. ‘The Wellness Centre!’
‘Really? Bloody brilliant. I might get some extra work and be able to put on another vet.’ She kept her expression serious. ‘Those pop tarts take their toy dogs everywhere. I could offer a doggy day spa. Maybe rehab for mutts with attachment issues, and there’s bound to be the odd drug-addicted Shih tzu among them.’ She snuck a sly wink at Lucas before concentrating back on Col. ‘Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll ring Dom tomorrow.’
Dunks feigned deep interest in his receipt book, his shoulders shaking. Col’s face was turning puce, his mouth puckering into folds so tight they were almost bloodless. Without the wink and Dom reference, Lucas would have laughed out loud, but his focus was on Bunny. There was something in that look and wink that put him on alert.
‘We don’t want more of their sort around here!’
‘I agree,’ said Lucas, ‘drug-addicted Shih tzus are a menace.’
Dunks burst out laughing which only set off Bunny. Col shot a filthy glance at each of them before stomping off, muttering under his breath.
‘Oh,’ said Bunny, wiping her eyes. ‘That was mean.’
‘Stupid little fuck deserves it,’ said Dunks.
‘Is it true, do you think?’ Bunny asked them. ‘Vanessa was in this morning and she never mentioned anything. Out of anyone she’d be sure to know.’
Lucas shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’
Dunks pointed at his chest and the falcon logo. ‘He didn’t do this for nothing.’
‘No,’ said Bunny. ‘Dom’s not the sort to do anything without a reason.’
Only if that reason was himself, but Lucas kept that thought contained.
They mused for a moment before Bunny tapped the sign-up sheet. ‘I’m up at Belgravia on Monday. I’ll see if I can’t kick some dates.’ She tugged up the sleeves of her jumper and began folding up the cuffs of her shirt. ‘Anyway, if you’re desperate I can always dig out my whites.’
Both men looked at her.
‘Didn’t you know?’ She glanced from Dunks to Lucas and back again, a glint in her eye. ‘I was in the Southern Stars. Won the World Cup back in the late eighties. I might be old but I bet I still know how to swing a bat.’ And with that she strolled off.
Dunks looked at Lucas and then down at his sign-up sheet. A heartbeat later he was on his feet and hurrying after her.
‘I’ll man the desk, then,’ Lucas called in his wake, grinning. He’d bet a week’s pay those two would end up in bed tonight. Nothing turned Dunks on more than cricket.
Lucas sat down and picked up the pen, tapping it against the seven names on the sheet. Bunny was right, it was still early days. The same thing had happened last year. Dunks had been almost in tears, certain his beloved cricket team was going to fold, when there was a flurry of last-minute names. The season was still a month away. People’s minds were on the rugby finals. As soon as the grand final was run, they’d be right.
Lucas continued to tap the pen, thinking of his day. Specifically, of Falls Farm and the girl he’d met.
The entire encounter had been an intriguing mix of dismissal and sexual spark. Teagan was pretty, really pretty, with glorious red hair that blazed copper and bronze and made him think of wisp-fine metal wire turned magically into silk. Her eyes were blue and cool, her features sharp and delicate, her skin pale and dappled with freckles.
She was like Vanessa but not. Where Vanessa was all sexy curves and kindness, the sort of woman whose pillowy breasts you wanted to bury your face in, Teagan was more angular and far too thin. Even so her figure was attractive, with straight shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist before flaring to slim hips. Her brea
sts were small but possessed the roundness and height of pert perfection. As for her legs, they were like a colt’s, long and slender, and made for wrapping around a man’s hips.
Though she didn’t seem to be aware of it, Teagan had inherited her aunt’s innate sexiness. It wasn’t the same, not even close, but it smouldered. Vanessa wore her sexuality with the confidence of a mature woman who knew who she was and what she wanted. Teagan’s was unselfconscious, earthy and enigmatic, and as hot as hell because of it.
The stir in his groin when she’d twirled the lead rope like a contrary cowgirl had forced him to look away and pretend deep interest in his hunt for a halter. With her jeans slung low around her hips, the movement had caused her thin jumper to rise up and expose a sliver of creamy flesh. The purity of that strip was mesmerising, and he’d been swamped with the stupid notion that touching her would be like touching something pristine and flawless, a body created just for him.
Not that that was ever going to happen anytime soon. Unlike many women on first meeting, Teagan hadn’t simpered or leered once, something he found refreshing, if odd. That his looks were above average was a truth Lucas had understood since boyhood. Except for a few over-hormoned incidents during adolescence, he’d made sure not to let it go to his head, in particular when he’d learned his colouring was all due to his bastard of a father. It affected others sometimes though, and not in a way he enjoyed, leaving him occasionally resentful of the dumbness of their behaviour. Just because he’d won some sort of genetic lottery didn’t make him special or blessed. Take away his attractive exterior and Lucas was just another bloke. Which was why he preferred to hang around people like Dunks and Vanessa, who took him for who he was.
There was no question that Teagan had noticed – he’d caught her checking out his arse, and casting sly glances over his arms and chest – but her overall dismissal of him wasn’t contrived. She genuinely seemed to think he was a bit of a dick. Which was annoying as much as it was unusual. Lucas prided himself on being a good person. Being a prick was his father’s way, not his.
Which meant that, if what Vanessa had told him was true about what her old man had done, he and Teagan at least had something in common: both their fathers were arseholes.