The Peppercorn Project

by Nicki Edwards

  She jutted her chin out and glowered at him. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  It didn’t take an expert in body language to see she was furious – with him or her son, Matt wasn’t sure. She looked nothing like this in his dreams. He rubbed his face. This was not the way to make a good first impression. Why had he dragged the boy into the room? He should have waited until the interview was over. Dammit! He should have thought.

  She was still glaring at him, and for once Matt wished he wasn’t so tall. His height intimidated some people, and the woman standing beside him barely reached his shoulder.

  He extended his hand, hoping to defuse the situation he had created. ‘I’m Sergeant Matthew Robertson.’

  She looked at his hand as though he was passing her a loaded weapon, before taking it and shaking it quickly.

  ‘I caught your son stealing,’ Matt said.

  There was a sharp intake of breath. ‘What?’ Her mouth hung open. She tilted her head back to look up at her son – he was already half a head taller than she was. ‘You stole something?’ The incredulity in her voice was impossible to miss.

  ‘I was hungry,’ the boy replied softly.

  Matt strained to hear him.

  ‘What did you steal?’ she asked.

  The boy didn’t answer, just dropped his head lower. Matt wanted to lift the cap off his head, grab his chin and make him look his mother in the eyes, but something stopped him. Matt was missing something. Something else was troubling this kid.

  ‘How about we all have a chat about this outside later?’ Matt suggested, backing down. ‘Once the interview is over, perhaps?’

  He smiled apologetically at Alison and Jack and dared a glance at Rachel. He looked away quickly. He recognised disappointment on their faces. A chill slipped over him as if the midday sun had slipped behind a cloud. They weren’t disappointed in the boy or his mother, they were disappointed in him. For interrupting their interview. For reflecting poorly on Stony Creek. For jeopardising the whole project.

  Matt cursed under his breath. He had handled the situation the wrong way. He’d seen the boy swipe the plastic bag of croissants and he reacted, rather than taking a breath and responding more appropriately. Assuming the teenager was a city kid bringing trouble to their country town, he’d planned to nip it in the bud. In hindsight, it appeared he was off the mark. Way off the mark.

  ‘I think we should continue our interview another time, Isabelle,’ Rachel said. ‘Perhaps we can reschedule you again late tomorrow afternoon after we’ve finished all the other interviews. If we have time, that is.’

  First Matt registered Rachel’s dismissive tone, then the woman’s name.

  Isabelle.

  ‘What did he steal?’ Isabelle pulled herself up tall, ignoring Rachel’s comment.

  This was one woman not afraid of confrontation. Or his height. The way she stood reminded Matt of a lioness protecting her cubs. Despite the intense anger she directed at him, he found her incredibly attractive.

  ‘A bag of croissants from the bakery.’

  She bit her lower lip so hard Matt expected to see blood. She turned to face her son. ‘Why Fletcher?’

  The boys’ voice was softer than before. ‘I was hungry, Mum. We had nothing for breakfast other than those muesli bars, and I wanted to save them for you and Mietta.’

  A weight landed on Matt’s shoulders. A growing boy needed more than a muesli bar for breakfast. Isabelle reached into her handbag and took out a wallet. Matt put up his hand to stop her. ‘He didn’t get to eat them. I handed the bag straight back to the bakery.’

  Embarrassment crossed her face. ‘I still want Fletcher to apologise.’

  ‘As long as he promises not to do it again, I think we can pretend it never happened. Forget it.’

  Fletcher nodded, but his eyes remained downcast. Matt’s soft heart broke for the boy. The kid was just hungry.

  ‘Come on, son, let’s get you some breakfast.’ Matt touched him on the shoulder but Fletcher jerked away. His muscles flexed and anger flashed across his face, causing Matt to step back.

  ‘I’m not your son,’ Fletcher shouted, before shooting out the door like a cork popped from a bottle.

  *

  The door slammed closed before swinging open again as Mietta rushed in, followed by a stunned Leah. Judging by everyone’s expressions, Isabelle had blown her only chance at a new start. The whole thing was a disaster. She bit down on her lower lip again, hoping the pain would distract her from the worry, which was now working its way towards her heart.

  She’d driven all this way for nothing.

  She glanced at the policeman. He carried an air of authority about him, but she was startled by the look on his face. What that compassion? Or remorse? Compared to her impression of him the night before, he didn’t look as old as she’d thought. And this time she did notice his eyes. Brown like dark chocolate, he stared at her from behind black-framed glasses. He removed his hat and ran his hand over his cropped hair. She noticed the smattering of grey at his temples.

  ‘I’m very sorry.’ His sober countenance indicated each word mattered. His eyes locked with hers.

  She dropped her head and stared at her feet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. There was nothing left to say. Scooping up her bag she rushed out, Mietta running to keep up with her.

  ‘We’ll be in touch, love,’ Jack called out.

  Yeah right! No doubt to tell her ‘thanks but no thanks’.

  Isabelle wanted to cry. She’d foolishly risked everything on one chance. She didn’t have a Plan B. She didn’t have a home. And she didn’t have a clue where to go or what to do next.

  Outside, she peered up and down the street. There was no sign of Fletcher. Assuming he would have headed for the car, she marched off in that direction.

  ‘Isabelle!’

  She stopped and turned. Leah was chasing after her.

  ‘Wait!’ Leah was breathless by the time she caught up, her words coming out in short bursts. ‘I’ve spoken to Rachel. They want you to go and have breakfast and come back at twelve. They’ll slot you in before lunch for another interview.’

  Isabelle’s eyes widened. Leah gripped her arm. ‘Don’t give up on this, Isabelle. You have just as good a chance as anyone else.’

  ‘But what am I going to do about Fletcher?’

  Leah shrugged. ‘Honestly, I’ve got no idea. I don’t have kids, but I reckon he simply needs time and space. And there’s plenty of that on offer here.’ She smiled reassuringly.

  ‘But he stole something. He’s never done anything like this before.’

  Leah touched her gently on the arm, the small squeeze bringing a measure of comfort. ‘And I reckon you’ll find he’s very sorry. I saw the look on his face. The poor kid, he was devastated. He knows he’s let you down.’

  Isabelle looked around, heart thumping. Where was Fletcher? ‘I don’t even know where he’s gone.’

  ‘I bet he’s with the horses,’ Mietta said. ‘That’s where I’d go if I got in trouble.’

  ‘Thanks for everything, Leah,’ Isabelle said. ‘Please tell Rachel we’ll be back at twelve. And I’ll keep the kids with me this time.’

  ‘No need. I’ll be ready for a break myself by then. I’ll take them with me to the cafe for a milkshake and something to eat while you have another crack at the interview.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t afford that,’ Isabelle clapped a hand to her mouth. Why had she admitted that?

  Leah’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Is that why Fletcher stole food? Because you don’t have any money?’

  Isabelle dropped her head and kicked at a stone.

  ‘Isabelle?’

  ‘We’re on a tight budget. I packed things for breakfast – cereal and bread – but it was late when we arrived and there was nowhere to stop for milk. I didn’t realise the cabin wouldn’t have a toaster.’ She ran her tongue over her lips.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ Leah asked.

  ‘I had a cup of tea. At leas
t there was a kettle.’ Isabelle forced a smile.

  Leah made a clucking sound in the back of her throat. ‘Right, that’s it. You’re all coming with me. Rachel can do without me for a while.’ Leah grabbed Isabelle’s hand and dragged her in the direction of the primary school. ‘Let’s find Fletcher and get you guys something to eat. The pub serves breaky until midday. Come to think of it, you all look like you could use a good feed.’

  Mietta clapped in delight. ‘Fletcher loves bacon and eggs,’ she said. ‘He’ll be rapt!’

  Isabelle shook her head in wonder. How was it that a six-year-old knew there was nothing better than food to coax a better mood out of the sullen?

  *

  Matt followed Isabelle at a distance. He wanted to make things right with her, but had no idea how. His stupid city cop brain had kicked in and he’d forgotten that not all teenage kids with baseball caps pulled low on their heads were out to cause trouble. He groaned miserably. He was never going to hear the end of this from Rachel. On top of that, before the morning was over, he was positive Geoff would know all about it and he would have to deal with his boss too.

  When he caught sight of Leah with Isabelle, he breathed a sigh of relief. Leah had a heart as big as Phar Lap’s – she’d take good care of Isabelle and her kids. The sight of the little girl bouncing between the two women, caused a strange tugging sensation to pull at Matt’s chest. A sensation he hadn’t felt before. Something about her made him want to wrap the kid in cotton wool. The thought surprised him. He’d always wanted kids, but his ex-wife hadn’t. Now, chasing forty, he was reconciled to the fact that his chances of finding love again – let alone of starting a family – were getting slimmer every day. He shook his head. Where were these thoughts coming from? He had no interest in another relationship.

  Ahead of him, the trio turned into the school grounds and Matt stopped. He couldn’t keep following them. He spied Fletcher under the trees, standing at the fence with the horses, stroking the neck of the large bay. Matt watched the mare searching Fletcher’s pockets for treats. The boy laughed and the anger was gone. Matt wished he had a bag of carrots. He would have loved to stand beside Fletcher and start again.

  Matt ran his hands through his hair. What had gotten into him? Was it just curiosity or something more? Matt had no idea why, but Isabelle and her family had captured his undivided attention in a way no one had in a very long time.

  He allowed his gaze to fall on Isabelle. The dappled sunlight turned her hair into spun gold. Despite her tiny size, something about the way she held herself made Matt wonder if she was in fact much stronger than she appeared. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but notice her tanned legs below her skirt, or the way her T-shirt hugged a perfect figure. It was a long time since any woman had caused this reaction in him, and it took him by surprise.

  Damn those old matchmakers! It was their fault. They had put these thoughts into his head the minute they mentioned she was single. He dragged his eyes away and shook his head, willing himself to come to his senses.

  Isabelle. He murmured her name softly as he walked away and tried to ignore the spring in his step.

  Belle. He was certain it was French for ‘beauty’.

  Chapter 8

  Relief billowed around Isabelle as soon as she caught sight of Fletcher. He was okay. She tried to ignore the aching hurt in the centre of her chest.

  ‘Fletch.’

  He looked so forlorn the pain in her heart squeezed like a vice. He was not okay at all.

  Leah grabbed her arm. ‘Let me talk to him first.’

  ‘Good luck.’

  Moments later, Fletcher’s features softened, before his lips curled upwards and a grin spread across his face. Leah must have said the magic word. Bacon!

  Fletcher approached and gave her an awkward hug. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I blew our chance, didn’t I?’

  The poor kid. His emotions were all over the place. She hugged him back. ‘Maybe not.’

  Fletcher looked quizzically at her.

  ‘Come on, let’s walk and talk.’

  ‘That’s what Dad used to say.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, buddy. Which is why I’m saying it now. Just because Dad’s gone doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten him.’

  Isabelle and Fletcher walked back in the direction they had come, following behind Leah and Mietta. Isabelle marvelled at the way her daughter skipped alongside Leah, holding her hand as if she’d made a new best friend. Isabelle knew how Mietta felt. Leah was a breath of fresh air. If they won the competition and came to live here, Leah’s friendship would be good for all of them.

  ‘You’re not moving here to forget about Dad are you?’

  ‘No, Fletch! I’ll never forget your dad. I’m not doing this to run away or hide from reality, I’m doing this because it might be the best way for us to get back on our feet again. I know you don’t get it, but there’s no money left. After Dad died, our only source of income was gone. With me not working, we have no money.’

  ‘But you said we have Centrelink.’

  How she hated living on welfare payments, even though that was their only option.

  ‘We do, but it’s not enough to live on, not enough to pay our mortgage.’

  Fletcher was silent, deep in thought. ‘If we move here, I’ll miss our house.’

  ‘So will I, Fletcher. But it’s just a house. Without Dad, it’s not a home anymore.’

  His shoulders slumped. ‘I know.’

  He sounded so miserable, Isabelle’s already broken heart threatened to crack open wider. She touched his arm. ‘One day we’ll have a home again, I promise. Maybe even here in Stony Creek.’

  ‘But we’ll never be a family again.’

  Stunned, she stopped walking and stared at him. ‘We’ll always be a family, Fletch. Whatever the future holds, we will always have each other.’

  ‘Are you going to get married again?’

  She laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. Where had that question come from? ‘I have no intention of getting married again.’

  ‘Never?’ Fletcher was insistent.

  Isabelle pulled him close, pleased he didn’t jerk away from her this time. ‘Honestly, buddy, I have no idea. It’s still too soon. I’m still in love with your dad.’ With her other hand she touched Dan’s ring that lay at her throat, feeling the comforting solidity of the warm silver between her fingers. ‘I tell you what, if I ever fall in love again, you’ll be the first to know. How does that sound?’

  Fletcher nodded. ‘Okay. Unless I give my approval, you’re not allowed to love anyone else. Deal?’

  He sounded so serious Isabelle had to control the urge to laugh.

  ‘Deal.’ She was surprised he hadn’t insisted they shake on it.

  Moments later they were at the pub.

  ‘Hope you’re hungry,’ Leah said, holding the door open and giving Isabelle her first glimpse of the dark interior. A dozen men sat lined up at the bar like the last line of pins at a ten pin bowling lane, nursing schooners of beer. They turned as one to look at the newcomers. Two waved and smiled at Leah and she returned the friendly greeting. One man gave Isabelle more than a cursory glance and tipped his head in her direction. ‘G’day, love.’

  Isabelle smiled politely and followed Leah through the pub to the dining room. They found a table in the corner and sat. Her stomach growled at the smells emanating from the kitchen. Until then she hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

  Fletcher looked at the chalkboard menu of specials and grinned. ‘I’m hungry and they do an all-day breakfast.’

  ‘He’s got hollow legs,’ Mietta told Leah seriously. ‘That’s what Dad always used to say.’

  Leah ruffled Mietta’s hair. ‘You’re brother’s a growing boy, and growing boys need to eat like the men they’re going to become one day.’ She flicked Fletcher’s hat from his head. ‘Hats off inside, mate!’

  Isabelle raised her eyebrows in surprise when Fletcher didn’t protest. Leah ushered them
into a corner of the dining room and waved to the man behind the bar. He shouted a greeting across the room before hobbling towards them.

  ‘He’s so old!’ Mietta said under her breath as she hung back timidly.

  ‘Shh!’ Isabelle warned.

  ‘Hey Joe, this is Isabelle, Fletcher and Mietta Cassidy,’ Leah said. ‘Guys, this is Joe. He and his lovely wife Jane have run this pub forever, and he’s one of the main reasons the Peppercorn Project got started. One day he can tell you all about it.’

  ‘G’day, love,’ he said. ‘Heard about you lot already.’

  Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat. What had he heard?

  ‘What can I get you then?’

  He plonked laminated menus in front of each of them. The food was simple and the prices reasonable. Isabelle relaxed. Leah had offered to pay, but she didn’t want to take advantage of her new friend’s generosity.

  ‘I’ll have the breakfast with the lot,’ Fletcher stated, after giving the menu a cursory glance.

  ‘Growing lad, I see,’ the old man grinned, showing off large teeth like crooked tombstones. ‘Good decision. One big breakfast coming up.’

  He squeezed Fletcher’s shoulder and Isabelle held her breath, waiting for Fletcher’s reaction. When it didn’t come, she relaxed.

  ‘And for the princess? ’ Joe ruffled Mietta’s hair. ‘What can I get for you?’

  Mietta grinned up at Joe, all shyness gone, and Isabelle added another person to the list of people she could trust in Stony Creek.

  ‘May I please have pancakes with ice cream and maple syrup?’

  Not proper breakfast food, but Mietta asked so politely Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to scold her. She shrugged. Then again, dessert for breakfast sounded like a perfectly good idea after the morning they’d had. ‘I’ll have the same, thanks,’ she said with a smile, which was returned tenfold from Joe.

  ‘And you, Leah?’

  ‘I’ve eaten already, thanks, Joe.’ Leah put a hand to her stomach and laughed. ‘And I absolutely positively do not need to eat again. But I’ll never say no to an iced chocolate.’