He Called Me Son (The Blountmere Street Series Book 1)
Page 29
I suppressed a smile. ‘Not much.’ When was there ever a lot of traffic on New Zealand roads! I doubted we’d passed half a dozen vehicles since we had left Christchurch. ‘You’ve got quite a big place here,’ I continued.
‘I’ll get Mum settled then I’ll show you around.’
Jenny’s cup of tea might have cooled Peg, but it had done the opposite for me, and I was grateful for the lower temperature of the showroom.
‘We’re one of the leaders in agricultural implements and irrigation systems. No horse-drawn ploughs now,’ Roger laughed.
‘Have you been in this business long?’
‘About fifteen years. I met up with Ron soon after he’d arrived from England, and we set up the business. We’ve never looked back. Even got Ron’s Dad out from England to give us a hand with the paperwork side of things.’
We ambled from the showroom into the workshop and then out into the heat of the forecourt.
‘It sounds like Ron now,’ Roger smiled. ‘I’d know the rattle of that old bus anywhere. They’ve made good time. I was frightened they might break down in the middle of nowhere. It wouldn’t have been too good in this heat for Ron’s parents and the visitor from England they’ve got staying with them. The kids, of course, would have seen it as an adventure.
The bus shuddered to a halt and three children tumbled out, while a tall bespectacled man in khaki shorts and a brown check shirt jumped from the driver’s seat. He walked round to the other side and opened the door for his wife, before helping his parents out of the vehicle.
‘Real polite is Ron. Takes after … ’
But I didn’t hear the rest; only the roaring of a waterfall in my ears, and the banging of my heart against my rib cage. I passed my hand across my eyes to clear the image and steady myself. When I removed it, they were still there: she with her frizzy hair and a chiffon scarf that trailed the ground; he in his blue shirt. His shoulders were not as square as they had once been, but he had retained his naval bearing. I stumbled towards them, shouting their names over and over and over. Suddenly, I realised there was someone with them: a young woman about the same age as me and wearing a pleated skirt. It couldn’t be … but it was.
I tripped, steadied myself and plunged forward.
They’d come – a little late, but they’d come, and they’d brought her with them.
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Chapter Five