The Peppercorn Project

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The Peppercorn Project Page 2

by Nicki Edwards


  Isabelle finished her sandwich and poured herself a coffee from the thermos she had prepared before leaving Torquay. She sipped gingerly from the plastic cup. The lukewarm coffee slid down her throat and her stomach twisted in complaint. She should have agreed to stopping at a cafe – it could be hours before she got a proper coffee.

  Fletcher plonked down on the timber seat opposite her. Head still down, he traced the carved outline of words on the timber table, derision oozing from every pore. He nibbled disinterestedly at his lunch. Hidden under his peaked cap, Isabelle could barely see his eyes, but she knew there were dark circles of pain beneath them. Dark circles that matched a darkening mood. A mood which darkened further every day. It had to stop.

  The hat was the one Dan gave Fletcher for his last birthday, brought back from America after one of his numerous trips for work. It had a logo emblazoned on the front, and although Isabelle knew it was one of the American basketball teams, she had no idea which one. No point asking Fletcher. He would roll his eyes at her as if she should have known.

  Because his dad would have known.

  Fletcher looked exactly like Dan. His skin sported a perpetual tan, regardless of the season. Tall and thin, he was showing signs of muscles on his upper arms. Each day he became less her baby boy and more of the man he was so desperate to become.

  Until six months ago, Fletcher had been a surf kid. At night while he slept, Isabelle used to imagine all manner of marine life crawling from his hair. When he woke one day and declared he was never going to surf again it had staggered her. True to his word, he hadn’t stepped foot in the ocean since. A skateboard had replaced his surfboard and her normally happy-go-lucky son had rolled further away from her.

  She was worried about him. Worried about both of them. As she tipped the remains of her cold coffee on the ground, she silently cursed the way life had turned out for her family. It had only taken an instant, but in that one moment their lives had irrevocably changed.

  ‘This place we’re going to – will it be like this?’ Fletcher’s question interrupted her dark thoughts.

  ‘The place has a name.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Stony Creek.’

  She chose to ignore his tone.

  ‘So is it going to be as small as this town?’

  Was that a hint of fear she detected in Fletcher’s voice? Her attitude softened. He’d suffered enough, and perhaps she was being too hard on him. ‘Smaller,’ she said softly.

  ‘Why can’t we just stay in Torquay?’

  Isabelle’s heart constricted. How was she supposed to explain the bank was taking their house? Like most young couples, they’d expected to have twenty-five years or more to pay off a loan, so they’d built a big house and lived well, with little thought to the future. When her parents discovered the extent of her debts, they’d been furious. Although they had the means to help her out financially, they’d hadn’t offered. Not that she wanted their money anyway.

  ‘I’ve already told you why we can’t stay in Torquay. With me not working, we can’t afford the mortgage repayments. Moving to Stony Creek might be a chance for us to get back on our feet.’

  Mietta slid into the seat beside Isabelle, pushing herself up close until they were touching. ‘So are we moving?’ Her voice wobbled.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  She tucked a stray curl behind her daughter’s ear. How was she supposed to explain to a six-year-old that they were applying for one of four houses along with twenty other people? Isabelle wasn’t sure she understood it herself.

  She recalled Rachel King’s email. Rachel was the coordinator of the Peppercorn Project, and Isabelle had memorised every word.

  ‘Congratulations, Isabelle! You are one of twenty contestants chosen from over a thousand applicants from around Australia. We invite you and your family to Stony Creek on the weekend of September 15 – 16 for an interview and a chance to taste our country hospitality. We will choose four families to win a coveted Peppercorn lease. Will one of those be yours?’

  Isabelle’s stomach churned. Was she doing the right thing, dragging her kids away from the only place they had ever known and taking them to a town in the middle of nowhere? She remembered the rush of excitement she’d experienced when she saw the advertisement on the internet, but now worry landed heavily in the pit of her stomach.

  Am I making a huge mistake, Dan?

  There was no answer. Not that she expected one anymore. It had been a long time since she’d heard his voice, even in her dreams.

  Nothing was set in concrete, she reminded herself. It was just an interview. One weekend, twenty contestants, four houses, slim chances. Isabelle had never so much as won a raffle in her entire life so winning one of the Peppercorn lease houses was the stuff of a fanciful imagination. She balled up the empty paper bags and tossed them in the rubbish bin. She pulled her shoulders back. It was too late to change her mind. They were over halfway there. She was doing the right thing and surprisingly, for once, even her parents agreed. It was just going to take a lot of work convincing her kids.

  Chapter 2

  Matt Robertson glanced at the clock on the dashboard and back at the road stretching out in front of him. Nine-fifteen. He was running a bit late, but he wasn’t too concerned. Hilary knew he’d be there. For the past three months since she’d moved into the nursing home, he’d picked her up and brought her back to Stony Creek for her doctor’s appointments. Why she refused to see the locum in Wilmington, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to argue with a woman in her nineties. Especially not one like Hilary Gleeson.

  He would have been early but he’d made the mistake of stopping to grab a coffee first and he’d been caught in yet another conversation about the upcoming weekend. It was all everyone had talked about for months and he was a little tired of it. The sooner the weekend was over, the sooner life could go back to normal. He eased his foot off the accelerator as he approached the town, adjusted his sunglasses and sighed. He was kidding himself. Once the weekend was over, things were only going to ramp up even more.

  Minutes later, he pulled up outside the nursing home and found Hilary sitting on her wheelie frame on the footpath, waiting for him. She wore a wide-brimmed sunhat and an even wider smile. She tapped her left wrist.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said as he jumped from the car and strode to her side to help her.

  ‘I’m only teasing,’ Hilary replied as she stood and tucked her arm into his.

  He walked slowly, taking his time. The last thing she needed was another fall.

  ‘Dr Thompson has never been on time once in his life, so it will be good to give him some of his own medicine and keep him waiting for once.’

  Matt smiled as he helped Hilary into his ute and stowed her frame in the back. He loved this woman as if she was his own grandmother.

  ‘Are you looking forward to this weekend?’ she asked once she’d settled back in her seat and made herself comfortable.

  ‘I’ll be glad when it’s over, to tell you the truth.’

  Pale blue eyes stared at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘I just want things to go back to normal.’

  Hilary smiled knowingly. ‘You’re afraid of change.’

  ‘It’s not that …’

  ‘What is it then? You’re worried about who might move into town?’

  ‘Something like that. I think bringing in city people and expecting them to cope with small town country life is a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘Wasn’t that long ago you were new yourself,’ Hilary said softly. ‘And if I remember, you came from the city.’

  He sighed. ‘Yeah, I know, but—’

  ‘But nothing,’ Hilary interrupted. ‘I think the Project is a wonderful idea. When Rachel told me about it and asked what I was going to do with my house when I moved into the nursing home, I just knew I had to be part of it.’

  ‘It’s very generous of you,’ Matt said.

  Hilary waved her arm dismissively. ‘You’d do the same t
hing if you had the chance. Just think about it: I get to help someone who’s doing it tough. My old house was only going to sit there empty.’ She paused and looked off into the distance. ‘I only hope I live long enough to see who moves in.’

  Matt chuckled. ‘You’re not going anywhere for a long time, Hilary.’

  She wagged a finger at him. ‘You never know when your number’s up, so make the most of every day, and for goodness sake, make sure you find someone to love. And if they love you in return, that’s a bonus.’

  ‘It always comes back to love, doesn’t it?’

  She patted his arm. ‘Absolutely, dear. You just need to find the right woman.’

  Matt smiled. ‘Not too many single women in Stony Creek.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s true of course. What about Leah Williams?’

  ‘Leah and I are just friends.’

  When he’d arrived in Stony Creek eighteen months earlier Hilary and the other oldies in town had tried to set the two of them up, but he was coming off a messy divorce and steering clear of women. Leah was awesome, but there was nothing between them other than friendship. Luckily, she knew it too. Once the dust had settled and everyone realised they weren’t heading down the aisle, they were left in peace and a strong friendship formed.

  ‘Fair enough. No point in pursuing something if there’s no spark.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He wasn’t going to tell Hilary he had no intention of pursuing anything with anyone – she’d just give him another one of her lectures.

  For the rest of the trip they drove in silence, the dry paddocks rushing past the car in a blur, and arrived at the clinic only ten minutes late for her appointment.

  ‘Do you want me to wait for you?’ Matt asked as he parked beneath the shade of a large tree.

  ‘Only if you have time.’

  ‘I have no other plans for the rest of the morning, and if I hang around helping you I don’t have to listen to everyone go on and on about the Peppercorn Project.’

  She shook her head at him and he grinned in return as he helped her out of the car and up the steps into the clinic. Alison Monahan, the clinic nurse, who also happened to be his boss’s wife, greeted them with a warm smile.

  ‘You’re such a good man, Matt. Thanks for bringing Hilary in for her appointments.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure. I like being able to help.’

  Dr Thompson stuck his head out the door and called Hilary in.

  ‘Cuppa?’ Alison asked as she led the way to her small treatment room at the back of the old house that had been converted into a general practice clinic.

  ‘Please. Tea, thanks.’

  ‘I don’t know what Hilary’s going to do from next month though,’ Alison said as she put tea bags in two mugs and waited for the kettle to boil.

  Matt frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Adrian’s taking six months off to travel overseas. His son Hugo will be filling in for him here. He starts next month.’

  ‘Can’t Hilary keep coming to see him?’

  ‘She can, but she won’t. She loves Adrian like a son and doesn’t like change. Or young doctors.’

  Matt chuckled. ‘Doesn’t like change, hey? She’s just been having a dig at me for the same thing.’

  Alison looked at him curiously.

  ‘The Project. She knows I don’t want the town to change.’

  ‘Change is good, Matt, and this is going to be good for us, and good for the new families.’

  ‘As long as you choose the right families.’

  ‘Which we will do.’

  ‘You’re on the interview panel, aren’t you?’ Matt asked.

  Alison nodded. ‘Along with Rachel, of course, and Jack.’

  ‘So I guess I’ll have to trust you to make the right choices.’

  ‘Yes, you will.’

  They were just finishing their tea when Hilary reappeared.

  ‘I’m finished,’ she announced.

  ‘You’re the fittest ninety-six-year-old I’ve ever met,’ Adrian was saying as he followed her down the hallway. ‘What’s your secret?’

  ‘Love,’ Matt said with a chuckle. ‘At least that’s what she’s always telling me.’

  ‘G’day,’ Adrian said, shaking Matt’s hand. ‘It’s good of you to bring Hilary in for her appointments.’

  ‘Don’t know what I’m going to do next month,’ Hilary said, glowering at the doctor.

  ‘The doctor who visits the nursing home is very thorough,’ Adrian said.

  ‘Pfft. He’s barely out of nappies.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Matt, we’ve got no more appointments for the day,’ Alison said. ‘I’m happy to run Hilary back to the nursing home. I’m sure you’ve got things that need doing here.’

  Matt checked his watch. Where had the morning gone? ‘Actually, that would be good. I’ve got a few things to do before everyone arrives tomorrow.’ He turned to Hilary. ‘Okay with you?’

  ‘It is, as long as you don’t forget about me over there. My only regret is having to leave Stony Creek.’

  ‘Maybe one day we’ll be big enough to have a nursing home here,’ Alison said.

  ‘I’ll still come and visit you,’ Matt said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Make sure you do. And as soon as you know who’s in my old house, you come and tell me, promise?’

  ‘Promise,’ he said.

  *

  ‘So whaddya reckon, mate?’ Joe asked that evening. Joe Jenkins was the town’s favourite resident and only publican.

  Matt took a swig of his beer, draining the glass, before eyeing Joe. The pub was having its most profitable night of the year – of the decade, judging by the smile on Joe’s face. He stood behind the bar drying glasses, his ruddy face split in a wide grin, eyeing his patrons.

  Joe gazed towards the open doors of the pub, flicking a towel in the direction of the street. ‘What do you think?’ he repeated.

  ‘About what?’ Matt feigned ignorance, as Joe’s wife Jane placed another schooner in front of him. Matt wasn’t concerned this was his third beer in the space of an hour. He was technically off duty.

  ‘The Peppercorn Project,’ Joe answered, as if Matt were stupid.

  People were talking of nothing else since the first car had arrived that morning. ‘You want my opinion?’ he asked, banging the glass onto the bar in front of him with more force than he had intended. He instantly regretted the way his frustration had spilled over, like the beer that had sloshed onto the cardboard coaster.

  ‘I asked ya, didn’t I?’ Joe’s dark eyes bored into Matt’s. Wiping the bench down, he replaced the soggy coaster with a fresh one.

  Matt ran his hands over his cropped dark hair. ‘I just don’t reckon it’s going to work.’

  Joe raised one bushy grey eyebrow. ‘Why’s that?’

  Matt sat forward, leaning both arms on the bar in front of him. ‘It’s been tried before – more than once – and it’s always failed. They even made a documentary about one of the towns. It was called the “Trundle Tree Change”. From what I understand, it was a huge failure. It was more like a reality TV show than a proper scheme to help people.’

  Joe remained silent, but didn’t take his eyes off Matt’s face. Matt felt the intensity of the old man’s gaze and looked away. No one was drawing him into an argument. He’d said his piece to the organising committee at the beginning, and when they’d dismissed his concerns he made a decision to keep his lips sealed and opinions to himself.

  Unlike other country towns across Australia whose futures were uncertain, the close-knit community of Stony Creek, a tiny town nestled into the base of the Southern Flinders Ranges, was flourishing. They intended to buck the trend of other dying country towns by inviting families to move in and strengthen their community even further. The plan was for the Peppercorn Project to have a dual purpose – helping families in need, as well as ensuring the community stayed vital and vibrant. Matt was worried that the new families would take
advantage of the community’s generosity and goodwill and what they had in Stony Creek would be jeopardised.

  Joe made a tsking sound in the back of his throat. ‘I’ve heard of Trundle, but that was different. That was one of them dollar a week rent thing-o’s. It was never going to work. You can’t bring city folk into the country and dump them in derelict farmhouses and expect miracles. What we’re doing here is different.’

  ‘How?’ Matt asked. ‘You’re still going to get city people thinking this is a good way to get cheap rent for a year.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘If it’s gonna work here, we need everyone to get behind it. Especially you.’

  Matt lowered his voice. ‘I didn’t say I wasn’t getting behind it, Joe. I just think you need to be careful who you accept, that’s all. A bunch of new people moving in will change the dynamics of the community. Is that what you want?’

  Joe glared at him. ‘You seem to have conveniently forgotten you were one of the new people yourself not that long ago.’

  Matt sighed. It was exactly what Hilary had said. He rubbed his chin. What was his problem? It wasn’t like Stony Creek belonged to him, but in the short time he’d lived there, he’d fallen in love with the place and with the people. There was a lot at stake for the town. Newcomers meant change. He sighed. Change. There was that word again. Maybe Hilary was right and he did need to be more flexible.

  Joe frowned and stalked off to serve another customer while Matt downed the rest of his beer. He hated that everyone thought he was being a cynic. It wasn’t in his nature to be negative, but someone had to be the voice of reason. In his opinion it was his duty. As one of the town’s two police officers, someone had to think through the ramifications of the scheme.

  ‘If looks could kill, you’d be dead.’

  Matt spun around to see a grinning Leah, feet wide, hands planted on hips. She wore her trademark shirt tucked into denim jeans, and a broad smile.

 

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