‘He’s the one you can’t imagine living without.’
‘And you think that’s Arlo?’
‘Don’t discount the possibility.’
‘Seeing as my life is in Sydney and his is here, it’s unlikely even if we did want to get together.’
Gina appeared momentarily stumped by that obstacle.
‘There is that but you can’t run away before any of this is resolved. Give yourself a chance.’
A woman came into the shop and started filling a bag with potatoes so she was distracted from further comment.
‘I’ll be off,’ said Mia. ‘How much for the apples?’
‘Nothing,’ said Gina.
‘But I can’t take them. Please, how much?’
‘Eighty cents.’
Mia gave her the coins.
Gina smiled. ‘Remember what I said.’
‘About?’ She’d said quite a few things.
‘Arlo,’ she mouthed with a glance at the customer.
‘Not going to happen.’
Gina patted her arm. ‘Love always finds a way but you have to stick around,’ she said softly.
The potato shopper lifted her bag onto the scales and went off to choose a pumpkin.
‘Thanks, Gina.’
Considerably cheered and with two fresh apples in her bag Mia continued along the street. The handicraft shop had a carved wooden sign out the front. She pushed the yellow door open and met a strong dried rose smell head on. Better than dead rabbit but potent in the overheated space. Baskets of all shapes and sizes filled with dried or fabric flowers, scented soaps and candles hung from the ceiling and adorned the walls. The gaps between were filled with inked sketches of animals. A wooden rocking horse took up one corner next to a shelf of beautiful handmade pottery bowls and mugs. A woman wearing gold hoop earrings as big as bangles, a purple crocheted shawl and with long grey hair tied back with a flowing purple scarf, sat knitting behind the counter. She looked up with a smile that wobbled uncertainly when she saw the intruder.
‘Hello,’ she said tersely. ‘Looking for something in particular?’
Mia sent her an innocent smile. Surely she wouldn’t refuse a sale. ‘Hello, yes, I am. A beanie and a warm scarf.’
‘Over there.’ The woman nodded towards a stand draped with an array of knitted scarves and others of silk in glowing jewel-like colours. A basket on the floor held beanies in all colours and sizes.
‘Did you knit them?’
‘Some,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘All locally grown and spun wool. Alpaca and sheep.’
Reasonably priced, not that it mattered because buying a few items would increase her standing here. Mia chose two silk scarves then turned her attention to the knitted items. A dark green matching scarf and beanie were perfect and she took her choices to the counter.
A smile flicked on and off. ‘Here for long?’ She put down her knitting.
‘At least another week, maybe more.’
‘It was a nasty business.’
Mia looked at her sharply. ‘Yes.’
‘Glenda was a good friend of mine. Everyone loved her.’
Mia firmed her mouth before replying, ‘So did I and so did my father.’
‘Why did he kill her then?’ A pair of grey eyes glared at her with undisguised anger.
‘I don’t know. No-one does.’
Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes but she turned away so this woman wouldn’t see. She wandered across to a stand of hand printed cards and wrapping paper and stared blankly at them until the voice said, ‘One hundred and twenty-five dollars, please.’
Mia paid and took the bag. ‘Thank you.’
The woman fired her parting shot. ‘You have a dark aura just like your father.’
The sanctuary of The Crown was in the next block but she had to wait at the corner for several cars to pass by, carefully avoiding eye contact with the family chatting next to her, and a couple of teenagers across the road. A second-hand bookshop was on the corner. Maybe she should stay in her room with her dark aura and read this afternoon instead of going to the football. Odd how her aura had changed from Gina’s assessment of lovely at the karaoke night to dark today. Nonsense, she knew, but hurtful because of the intent behind it. She pushed open the door to the shop.
Classical music wafted around the shelves, soothing and beautiful and she spent half an hour browsing. The books calmed her frazzled nerves and she promised herself to listen to more classical music because today it had a profound effect on her when she needed it most. Her aura must be glowing by now.
She paused when she reached the hotel. A chalkboard outside the entrance to The Crown listed the entertainment offerings. Monday: steak night, Tuesday: Italian night with specials on pasta, Wednesday: Karaoke. Thursday offered trivia, Friday had a duo called Wendy and Wayne. Saturday featured something called The Brothers which would no doubt be a rock band to entertain the post-match football crowd. Sunday had jazz from 3pm till 7pm with a group called Bluetone.
It was very tempting to spend the afternoon curled up in the warmth with a book. She had a couple of hours to decide but the choice was looking decidedly lopsided. Football in the cold with the possibility of abuse versus warmth and a good read. Chocolate and a glass of red could be added with no hardship at all.
Mia ventured out for dinner later that evening having spent the afternoon holed up in her room apart from a trip down to the bar for lunch followed by a walk to Laurie’s store for chocolate, successfully testing her new scarf and beanie.
Not wanting to sit in the rowdy bar alone on a post-football Saturday night with the band setting up in the bar area adjusting their amps to loud, she walked along to the Red Dragon Chinese restaurant run by her neighbours. Betty rushed to greet her, all smiles, and ushered her to a table. The room was spacious but already half full with several large tables occupied by what looked like family groups celebrating something.
Mia studied the menu. Betty reappeared with water and took her order for a glass of wine.
‘We thought you’d gone home,’ she said. ‘No car in the driveway.’
‘No, I’m staying at the hotel while the painter comes in and the floor is done. I’m replacing the hall carpet with wooden sheets that slot together.’
‘Very nice. Very smart. You come in and see us again. Have dinner.’
Betty bustled away to return a few minutes later with the wine and to take Mia’s order. The door opened and closed at regular intervals admitting more customers along with blasts of winter air. She pulled out the book she’d been absorbed in most of the afternoon and was immediately drawn back in.
‘Mia, hello. What a surprise!’
Still in Regency London, enmeshed in the complicated love lives of the ton, she blinked and focused on the dark-haired man smiling at her.
‘James. My goodness. I haven’t seen you for years.’
Chapter 12
He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘You haven’t changed a bit,’ he said, then turned to the blonde woman hovering beside him wearing a surprised smile. ‘Sorry, darling. This is Mia Petros. We worked in the same office back in the dark ages. Mia, this is Debra, my partner.’
‘Not quite that long, James.’ Mia held out her hand with her own surprised smile. Could she be Arlo’s Debra?
‘Are you a local?’ Debra asked.
‘No, I’m finalising my father’s estate. He lived here but he died last year.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry to hear that, Mia,’ James said. ‘Are you still in Sydney?’
‘Yes. Are you?’ But she knew they were.
‘Yes, I’m an adviser on the personal staff of the NSW treasurer. How about you?’
Debra intervened before Mia could reply. ‘We should sit down, James, we’re in the way of the waitress.’
‘Oh yes, right. Are you here alone, Mia?’
‘James, come on.’ Debra all but tugged on his arm. She sent Mia a little, apologetic smile. ‘Sorry.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes, I am alone. Talk to you later.’
James Baxter. Must be ten years since they worked together. He was with someone else back then. A red-haired girl he couldn’t stop talking about. Better not ask what happened to her. Now he was a de facto stepfather and seemed to get on well with Arlo and presumably the son. That was good. James was a decent man.
Betty brought the spring rolls.
‘You know those people?’ she asked. ‘That’s Arlo’s ex-wife.’
‘I wondered if she was. I used to work with James, her partner.’
‘They book for four so Arlo and the boy come soon. He’s come to live with his father.’
‘Yes, Arlo told me.’ She hid a smile. She could hold her own in this information exchange and had added to the accumulation of knowledge by admitting she knew James. No harm in that spreading around town.
‘Here they are.’
Betty hurried to the door to greet the newcomers. Riley was up to his father’s ear already and would probably draw level and more in a few years’ time. He had the same unruly straw-coloured hair and blue eyes but his features were more like his mother. A handsome boy, he looked awkward in his gangly body as he took off his parka in the warm restaurant.
Arlo glanced her way and raised a hand in greeting, his eyes lingering for a moment but the smile on his face was all pride and happiness at having his son by his side. Mia smiled back, warmth prickling her neck.
Riley led the way to their table with Arlo following. She wasn’t the only person he knew in the restaurant of course, he had to stop and exchange words with someone on every other table he passed but she’d bet she was the only one he’d kissed—apart from Debra. The thought made her hot and she drank water, the glass cool under her fingers, the liquid sliding down her throat, distracting her from Arlo’s lips and how his touch felt gentle on her cheeks.
Arlo’s group was still eating by the time she’d finished her meal so she tried to make an inconspicuous exit. James wasn’t letting her escape however. While she waited at the counter for Betty to tot up her bill he appeared at her elbow.
‘Arlo said you’re staying at The Crown too,’ he said. ‘Have a drink with us later. We’ll be finished here in half an hour. I’d love to catch up.’
She kept her eyes firmly on his face, away from Arlo. ‘Do the others mind? What about Riley?’
‘He’s fine. It’s not late and Arlo can take him home if he gets tired.’ The brakes already on his time and his desires. She reined in those thoughts. Riley was his son, she was a passing fancy. No contest and she wouldn’t make it one.
‘It’s pretty noisy over there … I think they won the football match and there’s a band.’
‘We’ll squeeze in. Arlo said there’s a quieter room than the main bar. The Ladies Lounge.’
‘Gosh, a Ladies Lounge, that’s a throwback. Okay. I’ll meet you there.’
The street was empty when she stepped out into the chill. Light, misty rain clung to her face and beaded on her coat and she wound her new scarf snugly around her neck. A good buy despite the saleswoman and her attitude, the wool was soft and warm and a lovely dark forest green.
She crossed the road and walked the half block to The Crown. A couple of cars went by and then a motorbike purred past, slowly as though he was looking for an address. The black helmet turned her way, lingered. Didn’t envy him although he was well rugged up in his black leathers, scarf, gloves and helmet. The engine sounds died away replaced by shouts and laughter from the hotel. Eight-thirty and the celebrations were just warming up, with the band belting out ‘Start Me Up’. Could be a noisy night in her room.
Upstairs she hung up her coat, used the bathroom and examined her reflection while amplified thuds from the bass reverberated in the floor beneath her feet. Stray hairs combed into place, teeth brushed and lipstick reapplied, she went downstairs to find the Ladies Lounge. A polished wood door with glass panels had the name in old-fashioned curling gold lettering. The room was quieter than the main bar with the edge taken off the band, now on ‘Twist and Shout’, and almost full. She bought a glass of wine and hovered at the bar but claimed a table when a group pushed their chairs back noisily and headed for the door.
Arlo and his son came in first, saw her and threaded their way between the tables.
‘Hi, Mia, this is Riley.’ Arlo smiled proudly.
‘Hello, Riley. Nice to meet you.’ Mia held out her hand and the boy flushed and put his chilled one in hers briefly.
‘Sit down, Riley, and I’ll get us a drink.’
Arlo flashed Mia another smile, hung his jacket on a chair and hurried away. Riley sat down awkwardly then stood to remove his parka.
‘Much colder than Sydney, isn’t it?’ Mia said. ‘I had to buy a beanie and a scarf today.’
He smiled and sat down. ‘I’ve got a beanie but it’s in my suitcase.’
‘You’ll have to unpack that quick smart. Where in Sydney do you live?’
‘Cheltenham.’ North shore, houses in leafy gardens.
‘Nice. I’m in Balmain.’
‘Do you have a terrace house? They’re cool.’
‘Yes. I’ve lived there since I was a kid. How do you think you’ll go in your dad’s place? It’s pretty small.’
‘Have you been there?’ A flicker of interest lit his eyes.
‘Yes.’ She wasn’t about to explain how often and why, that was Arlo’s job. ‘I hear you want to be a journalist.’
‘Yes.’
‘What area interests you?’
‘I don’t know exactly.’
‘I imagine there are heaps of things you could get into now with the online thing.’
‘I want to do something really worthwhile like Dad did. Investigate corruption and injustice,’ he said with a spurt of energy animating his voice.
‘There’s plenty of that in the world.’
‘Exactly.’
‘We certainly need people to hold politicians to account.’
He nodded enthusiastically.
‘It can be dangerous,’ Mia said. ‘Speaking out.’
‘Yes, but if someone doesn’t then the evil people triumph.’
‘You’re right. Your dad was good at speaking out.’
‘Did you know about him before you came here?’
‘I remembered his name from things I’d read or heard on the news. Vaguely though.’
Arlo placed a glass of sparkling water and a red wine on the table. ‘What are you two talking about so intently?’
Mia glanced at Riley. He smirked and said, ‘You.’
She picked up her own glass and took a sip, avoiding Arlo’s eye.
‘I don’t blame you,’ Arlo said. ‘I’m fascinating.’
Riley groaned.
‘Where are James and Debra?’ asked Mia.
‘Mum needed the bathroom,’ said Riley.
‘How late does the band play?’ Mia turned to Arlo.
‘About eleven-thirty or midnight, I think.’
‘Gosh.’
‘What are you going to do tomorrow?’ asked Arlo.
‘Nothing much. There’s jazz here in the afternoon. I might come in for that. What else is happening?’
‘I’m hanging out with Sam tomorrow afternoon, Dad,’ said Riley.
‘Are you? What about unpacking your gear?’
‘There’s no rush, is there?’
‘S’pose not. As long as you can find what you need for school on Monday.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But you can’t leave those bags in the living room.’
‘They won’t fit in my room.’
‘Maybe we should find somewhere bigger to live.’
‘Cool. Where?’
‘Mia’s house is available.’ Arlo looked at Mia. She remained silent. Not her discussion.
‘We need three bedrooms and I’d really like an ensuite.’
Arlo laughed. ‘Not going to happen, mate. Not here.’
‘Sam’s house has an ensuite i
n every bedroom.’
‘His parents spent a fortune renovating that place,’ said Arlo. ‘Most people in town don’t have that kind of money. The houses are old. Some probably still have outside toilets complete with spiders.’
‘Dad!’
‘They did a good job on the hotel. My room is lovely,’ said Mia.
‘There’s Mum.’ Riley waved an arm to attract her attention as she and James hovered in the doorway scanning the crowd.
Arlo borrowed a spare chair from the next table and shuffled his chair closer to Mia to make space.
James sat on her other side with Debra between him and Riley.
‘I’ll get drinks.’ Arlo was on his feet. Mia shook her head at his questioning glance.
‘Beer and a mineral water, thanks,’ James said.
He turned to Mia and launched into a barrage of questions about old work colleagues and her current situation while Debra and Riley talked quietly across the table. Arlo returned but James barely broke stride in his explanation of his current position.
‘My minister is on the lookout for new staff if you ever want to change jobs,’ he said.
‘Thanks, but I’m happy where I am. I haven’t thought about leaving at all.’
Arlo listened to Mia and James discussing a world he was totally unfamiliar with and happy to remain so. They were both obviously highly skilled in corporate finance and the wheeling and dealings that go on between companies and politicians but unless it involved corruption and illegal activity he couldn’t raise any interest. Mia assumed a different persona in James’s company. She was in her element, confident, opinionated and knowledgeable. What on earth could she see in him, a messy, casually dressed journalist in a tiny rural town where the main stories were wedding anniversaries and potholes?
He liked James and was happy Debra had found a good man who loved her and Riley. But Mia belonged in that world too and very soon would be back there surrounded by the smartly dressed movers and shakers like James. He sighed and downed red wine.
‘Tired?’ Debra leaned across Riley with a smile.
‘A bit. I spent most of the day clearing space for Riley’s gear.’
‘Dad reckons we’re moving to Mia’s house,’ said Riley.
‘But isn’t that …’ Debra stopped short.
A Light in the Dark (Taylor's Bend, #3) Page 13
