Leigh remained where she was, watching Nina as she walked away. Careful, Leigh. She’s a client.
Leigh looked at her watch. It was nearly one, and the pangs of hunger had intensified to a dull roar. Nina hadn’t mentioned if someone would come over to relieve her for lunch or if she should close the shop door and go off to find a café where she could buy a sandwich. She’d wait another few minutes, then she’d duck out to find something to eat.
The shop had been busy, but not so much that she’d been overwhelmed. It seemed Nina had a fair number of local customers who popped in for eggs, goat cheese, and preserves.
Leigh went to the door and looked out. A small figure walked down the drive towards the shop.
“Hi,” Phoebe said when she got close enough to talk. “Mum sent me to ask if you’d brought lunch.”
“I didn’t think of it,” Leigh said. “Maybe you could point me to somewhere where I can buy a sandwich?”
“Mum said you’d say that.”
When Phoebe smiled, she looked less the grumpy tweener, older than her years, and more the twelve-year-old she was.
“She says for you to come up to the house and eat with us. It’s only toasted sandwiches, though.”
“Are you sure? Where do the other volunteers eat?”
“In the barn with the kids, but they know to bring lunch.”
“I don’t want any special treatment. I’m happy to go and buy something.”
Phoebe shrugged. “Up to you. But people often come up to the house. Kiren, usually.”
Kiren must be a good friend: lending clothes to Nina, eating lunch at the house. Was she a girlfriend? Maybe. That was none of Leigh’s business, though.
“In that case, I’d love to eat lunch with you. Thank you, Phoebe.”
“Then let’s go now.” Phoe turned back to the door, then hesitated. “Mum said you’d brought my statement for me to sign.”
“That’s right. It’s in the car. I’ll bring it up with me.”
“Was it okay?” Phoebe stood on one leg and tucked the other up like a flamingo. “Did I say the right stuff?”
“You did good.”
“Okay.” Phoebe came back into the shop and up to the counter. She picked up the rock weighing down a pile of leaflets on the counter and turned it over in her hands. “I was wondering…”
Leigh nodded in encouragement. “Go on.”
Phoebe put down the rock, picked up the pen, and doodled a horse’s head in the margin of one of the leaflets. “Will we have to pay something to Billy?” Her rushed words were directed to the countertop.
Leigh’s heart squeezed. None of her clients worried about the money they might have to pay—but then, most of them had insurance that covered them. To have a child ask her this was an uncomfortable first. Should she smile, pat Phoebe’s shoulder, and tell her that everything would be all right? Nina’s face floated through her mind. Nina hadn’t hidden the situation from her daughter. “You might have to pay something to Billy, yes. He’s been hurt; that’s only fair. But I’m working for you to minimise that.”
Phoebe chewed her lip. “We can’t afford to pay anything. And horseriding is an inherently dangerous pastime. Stella knew the risk.”
Inherently dangerous pastime. Where had the child picked up that particular expression?
“You’re correct, to a point. And we’ll certainly be arguing that.” Leigh nodded, giving her answer the seriousness that Phoebe’s words warranted. “The other side will be arguing, though, that it was made less safe, as a twelve-year-old child was in charge of the pony. And that’s why I took your statement. So that we can show you are responsible and capable. Now, let me grab that statement and find that lunch. I’m starving.” Her stomach gurgled loudly.
Phoebe giggled. “Mum says there’s a piglet in my tummy when mine does that.”
“Then I hope we’re not having bacon sandwiches.”
Nina’s weatherboard house was hot, but a breeze wafted across the veranda, aided by the ceiling fan.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Leigh said to Nina as she entered the kitchen. “Can I do anything to help?”
“No, thank you. It’s all done. Sit down and help yourself.” Nina grabbed some water glasses.
There was a pile of toasted sandwiches on the table on the veranda, a huge bowl of salad, and a jug of water.
Phoebe reached over, grabbed a sandwich, and stuffed half into her mouth. “Ham and chutney. My favourite,” she mumbled around a mouthful.
“Is the chutney from the shop?” Leigh asked.
“Yes, it’s Daisy’s tomato chutney,” Nina said. “I hope you like it, as you selected a jar.”
Phoebe grabbed another couple of sandwiches. “Can I go and read in my room?”
“Use a plate and eat some salad too.”
“Thanks.” Phoebe heaped a plate with more sandwiches and a tiny amount of salad and disappeared.
“She’ll devour the sandwiches and put most of that salad in the bin.” Nina turned to Leigh. “But I still make her eat some of it.”
Leigh piled salad on her plate. “I appreciate it. Thank you for making it.”
“Do I have to force you to eat a sandwich?” The corners of Nina’s eyes crinkled in amusement.
“No. I have to try Daisy’s chutney too.”
Nina heaved a sigh. “Phoe’s still a horror a lot of the time. When she’s not snarling at me, all she wants to do is read in her room. Most parents would be delighted if their kid read as much as Phoe seems to.”
“But you’re not?”
“Well, it’s better than surfing questionable sites on the internet. But I can’t help thinking that if this thing with Billy ends badly, she’ll have plenty of time to read, but she won’t have this.” The wave of her hand encompassed the farm.
“I hope it won’t come to that.”
“But you can’t promise. I get that.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “Enough of that. Tell me something to make me smile.”
The request surprised Leigh. When had she last been asked something as simple as that? Something a friend might ask. “Well,” she said, stalling for time. “I talked to a potential client this week. She’s a flight attendant who wrote a salacious tell-all memoir about her life. She’s being sued by a bunch of her colleagues who are unhappy with how she portrayed them in the book. Let’s just say one of the flight attendants disputes the measurement of a particular portion of his anatomy, and a captain swears that of the dozen or so people she’s alleged to have slept with, there’s one she definitely has not.”
“Really? And people sue over that?” Nina propped her chin on her palm. “What does it matter who you love?”
“I’m not sure love came into it. But, yes, it’s ridiculous.”
“I guess that puts my problems into perspective.” Nina picked up her sandwich again. “Just think, if my life had turned out differently, I could have a woman waiting for me in every major city. Instead, my Saturday nights are Netflix and popcorn with Phoebe—if I can tempt her out of her bedroom.”
So Nina did date women. Leigh had been fairly certain, but here was the confirmation. Leigh was sure Nina could date if she wanted. Single mothers everywhere were out on the town; it probably wasn’t Phoebe holding her back. For a moment, Leigh wondered if she would be happy with Nina’s life. Quiet nights relaxing at home. If Leigh wasn’t at a social event—gallery openings, an upmarket restaurant dinner with colleagues, a business networking event—then she took a file home from the office and worked. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an evening of doing nothing. And tonight, she had a date.
For a tiny moment, a worm of envy uncoiled. An evening where she didn’t have to be anywhere, with anyone—or working. James took his Dictaphone everywhere. Grizz said the secretarial pool laughed when they transcribed his words and hear
d a toilet flushing. One swore James had dictated an advice in church—she’d heard the priest serving mass in the background.
No, Leigh didn’t want work to rule her life to that extent. But Nina’s life? That was too far in the other direction.
Chapter 9
Leigh’s damp hair clung to the back of her neck. The shop wasn’t air-conditioned, and it was scarcely cooler than outside. She went to the door and looked over to where Sydney was a smudge on the horizon, a yellow cloud of pollution hanging over the city. It was fresher here. Even though they were surrounded by housing estates and traffic roared along the dual carriageway that bordered one side of Banksia Farm, there were telltale signs they weren’t in the city. The red and blue rosella that sat preening in one of the she-oaks. The moo of a cow. Children laughing as they ran freely around the farm. Banksia Farm was indeed an oasis in the city.
Nina exited the barn, a bucket in each hand and a trail of kids following.
Leigh returned to pick up her bag. A swift check around the shop to make sure all was in order, then she left and pulled the door closed behind her. She had to leave now and get ready for her date—her first in a long time—with a barrister she’d met through work. She was cautiously optimistic. Meredith was a professional like herself, and, of course, they had law in common. Maybe it was time to break her dating drought.
The shop keys jingling in her hand, she cut across the paddock towards Nina to return them. With thoughts of Meredith in her head, she wasn’t looking where she was walking. When the ground shifted underneath her foot, she froze. The keys dropped from her hand. She looked down. The tail end of a light-brown snake slid away through the grass. Her belly tightened, every muscle screaming in a visceral horror, and she thought she might throw up. Sweat sprang up on her forehead. For a terrifying second, her vision swam.
Leigh dragged in a deep breath, then another. She would not faint. She focussed on the snake as it slithered away until it was lost to sight in the grass.
She licked her dry lips. She had felt no bite, no pain. The snake couldn’t have bitten her. She had trodden on it, and it had moved from under her foot. That was what she had felt.
The deep belly breaths worked. Slowly, her head cleared, and her limbs felt as if they would obey her once again. She picked up the keys and continued across the paddock towards the barn, scanning the ground in front of her.
Leigh’s legs trembled when she reached the barn, and she sat on a bench to collect herself.
A scuffle of feet and Nina appeared. Her hair hung loose from her ponytail, and a smudge of dirt streaked across one cheek.
“All done for the day?” Nina flopped onto the bench next to Leigh. “Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome. Here’s the keys.”
Nina took them and turned towards her. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I trod on a snake. In the paddock.”
“Did it bite you?” In a swift movement, Nina crouched in the dust at Leigh’s feet. “Let me look. Which foot?”
“No. I don’t think so. I didn’t feel anything like a bite. It was under my left foot, and then it moved off.”
Nina picked up Leigh’s foot and studied her ankle above the hiking boot. She ran her fingers around the back of Leigh’s calf.
Leigh shuddered. Sensation ran up her leg at Nina’s exploratory touch. A gentle touch, her fingers dancing over Leigh’s calf. Leigh closed her eyes.
“No blood. I can’t see any puncture wounds.” She moved to the other leg. “What did it look like?”
“Brown. Long. Snake-like.”
“Eastern brown snakes are common around here. They’re highly venomous, as you must know.” Nina bent closer and inspected Leigh’s right calf. “But I think you were lucky. I can’t see anything to indicate you’ve been bitten. Good thing you wore boots today. However, if you don’t want to take a chance, I can call Triple Zero.”
“No. I’m sure it didn’t bite me. I didn’t feel anything.” She managed a semblance of a smile. “And if it did, the presence of snakes is in the new disclaimer.”
“Which you haven’t signed. Which no one has signed yet.” Nina sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay. That’s the important thing.” Her gaze lifted to meet Leigh’s.
Nina’s fingers on Leigh’s leg suddenly burnt hot. It was as if Leigh could feel each separate digit where it rested on her calf. If Nina moved her hand now, would it be a caress, or would she still be looking for a snakebite? Leigh bit her lip. This was crazy. Nina was a client, and she had to stop thinking of her like this. Obsessing more like.
“Thank you.” She moved her leg away from Nina’s fingers and tucked her feet under the bench. “I have a date tonight, and it wouldn’t do to miss it because I was in hospital getting antivenom.”
“It would be a novel excuse. I’m sure your date wouldn’t have heard that before.”
“Maybe. Meredith’s a barrister; she’s probably heard a lot of things.” Immediately, Leigh wished she could recall the words. Talking about her personal life with a client was a line she seldom crossed. But it seemed lines were blurring all the time with Nina. This was something she could not allow to happen.
Nina stood. “Can I get you a cold drink of something?”
“Thanks, but no. I better get going. You’ll hear from me if there are any developments on your matter.”
“Right. Thank you.” Nina’s tone matched Leigh’s for formality.
With a small smile, Leigh headed for her car. The city—and Meredith—awaited.
Nina blew out her breath in a long exhale, which lifted the strands of hair from her forehead. What the hell was that about? For a minute, it had been as if she and Leigh were friends. It had been like talking with Kiren or any of the other volunteers who, over the years, had become friends. Except, a little voice whispered, she’d never had that deep compulsion to touch Kiren’s skin. Never had that deep yearning for more that she’d experienced when her fingers rested on Leigh’s leg.
Friends, ha! Nina snorted. And she was sure, so very convinced, that Leigh had felt something like that too. There had been a tremor in her skin, a shiver under her touch, like a skittish thoroughbred. She was dreaming. Leigh’s shiver was more likely fear of snakebite.
But even if “friends” was a possibility, anything more was not. Not as long as Billy’s claim was ongoing. Maybe not ever, because surely once that was sorted out, Leigh would smile her polite, professional smile, shake Nina’s hand, wish her well, and that would be the last she’d see of her. Nina pulled the band from her hair and refastened her ponytail.
What would have happened if she’d met Leigh in other circumstances? Nina smiled wryly. Nothing, that was the answer. Leigh and she moved in circles so different they would never have intersected in the normal way of things. Even being friends would not be a possibility. What would a professional like Leigh have in common with a scruffy woman who ran a struggling farm in an unfashionable part of Sydney?
But the day had been a good one. The Leigh who came to the farm was different to the Leigh who inhabited the upper echelons of a swanky office block in the centre of Sydney. Farm-Leigh was warm, approachable, funny even. Office-Leigh was none of those things. And she’d handled Phoebe well, even if Nina’s hackles had been up, ready to leap to the defence of her daughter.
Nina gripped the back of the bench. In what universe could she and Leigh date? That was simple: there was no parallel universe she could dream of where that might happen—and that was before Leigh had thrown up the mysterious Meredith, her date for the night.
In what universe could Nina and Leigh be friends? Maybe this one.
Just maybe.
The BMW had disappeared, and Nina stared at the empty driveway. This wouldn’t do; there was work to do, always work to do. She swivelled on her heel and marched back to the barn. She’d see which of the volunteers
needed a hand with the Barn Kids. Her gaze travelled over the paddock. Only Jellybean was there, a small rider on top, circling around Phoebe.
Nina searched for Andi but couldn’t see her. She frowned. After all they were going through with Billy, surely Phoe wasn’t supervising another kid by herself? Nina ducked under the fence and walked across the paddock.
“That’s great, Naima,” Phoebe said. “See how happy Jelly is now? Her ears are pricked, and she’s listening to you. Now see if you can make her halt.”
Jelly came to a ragged stop.
“That’s fantastic. Now let’s do some around-the-world. Wait until I can hold Jelly’s head.”
“She won’t do anything to hurt me,” Naima said. “Jelly loves me.”
“I know she does, sweetie, but let me hold her anyway.”
Nina slowed her steps. Around-the-world was a fun game they played with the kids, involving the rider turning a full 360: sitting sideways, then backwards, then the other side, and back to the front. They did it all the time. But should Phoe be by herself, supervising a nine-year-old? What if Jelly was startled by something and bolted?
Chaotic thoughts of disaster swirled in her head, and she forced herself to maintain the slow progress to the pair. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Phoe knew what she was doing, and Jelly was a quiet pony. Now though… She came up alongside Phoe.
“Look at me, Nina! I’m backwards!” Naima’s gap-toothed smile beamed at her over Jelly’s tail.
“That’s great! You’re doing really well.”
Jellybean stood dozing, head low, ears flicking occasionally to shed a persistent fly. Phoe stood by her head, holding the reins under the bit, as Nina had taught her.
“Where’s Andi?” Nina asked.
“Gone. It’s nearly four. Most people have left. Naima worked really hard today, and her mum’s a little late, so I thought she could have an extra ride on Jelly.” Phoe’s grin was her normal, sunny self. Surly, incommunicative Phoebe had disappeared.
A Heart This Big Page 10
