The Road to Hope

by Rachael Johns

  His mouth stretched into a grin. ‘And how does it make you feel?’

  ‘Um…happy and fresh?’ She shrugged, feeling a little silly, but also, strangely, starting to relax.

  He nodded. ‘That’s good. You need to start dressing for yourself. Stop seeking approval from others and live your life in a way that will make you happy, Lauren.’

  ‘Wow.’ She blinked. ‘How long have you had that little lecture planned?’

  ‘A while.’ He laughed. ‘And I mean every word of it. You’re an awesome person and you’re gorgeous inside and out. But your opinion is the only one that matters.’

  His words went straight to her soul. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome. But just for the record, I think you look sensational. And I love that skirt.’

  She couldn’t help grinning—the combined result of his compliment and his out-and-out gorgeousness. He was wearing dark jeans and a plain black shirt rolled up to the elbows. Simple attire but on him it made her pulse skitter. ‘Why thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.’

  ‘I know,’ he said cockily, but his massive grin and the sparkle in his eyes told her he was joking. There was nothing arrogant about Tom. That was just one of the many things she liked about him.

  It was nice that they could be honest about their attraction and openly admire each other, despite knowing nothing was going to happen between them. But it also made her decision to be a good girl that much harder. More than once in the last week or so she’d regretted her snap decision to tell him her woes. Had she really told him she was a slut? She cringed at the memory, thinking how much sweeter it would have been if she’d just slept with him and reaped the benefits.

  ‘I’ll drive,’ Tom said, rinsing his glass and then putting it in the drying rack. ‘That way you can have a drink.’

  She smiled and said, ‘Thanks,’ but secretly vowed to be sensible. She was no longer a twenty-something who treated every party like a B&S ball, and there was a reason for that. When she got a few drinks in her, she lost her head. The new Lauren would sip a wine and maybe make it last a couple of hours.

  ‘Let’s go then.’

  She and Tom headed outside, pausing to lock the house. He beat her to his ute and opened the passenger door for her, proving that chivalry wasn’t as extinct as some of her previous beaus had led her to believe.

  ‘Do we know what to expect tonight?’ he asked as he started the vehicle.

  ‘Uh-uh.’ Lauren deliberately looked out her window to avoid drooling over his forearms as he gripped and turned the wheel. ‘Flynn’s cottage is pretty small but I think there’s a fair crowd attending so they might have it at the homestead. You should see the Quartermaines’ house. Honestly, it’s right out of the pages of Country Style.’

  ‘Country what?’

  She laughed. ‘Let’s just say it looks too good to be lived in.’ Yet the few times she’d been there it had felt far more like home than her parents’ house ever had. It had been very appealing, almost as much as Flynn. Thinking of him brought an ache to her gut and she was glad she had Tom at her side tonight.

  They travelled down the main street, which was deserted apart from a few cars clustered around the top and bottom pubs, and then turned onto the road that led to Black Stump, the Quartermaines’ sheep and crop farm.

  ‘You know, I think this is the furthest out of town I’ve been,’ Tom commented as he glanced at the dry paddocks on either side of the road. ‘So much for travelling to see more of our great country. I must make more of an effort to get out and about while I’m here.’

  ‘I’m not working tomorrow, so how about I take you for a drive?’ Lauren suggested. ‘There’s not a whole load to see but we have some hidden delights around here.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Ahh…’ She smiled, thinking of a day on Lake Towerinning with him, wondering why she hadn’t thought of playing tour guide earlier. They could finish the day off with dinner at the Distillery, where she could hopefully replace memories of Flynn and Ellie’s wedding reception with newer, better ones. ‘Now that would be telling. Do you trust me?’

  He turned his head and raised his eyebrows, taking a moment to think the question over.

  She whacked him playfully on the arm. ‘Hey, when have I ever given you reason not to?’

  ‘True, but we haven’t known each other very long.’ Luckily his tone was light.

  ‘I guess you’ll just have to live recklessly then.’

  ‘Now that, my dear, sounds tempting.’

  She laughed and then gave him a brief rundown of who owned the farms they passed on their way to Flynn’s. He admired some of the unique mailboxes—lots of animals made from old farm containers, a miniature homestead and an old fridge painted like a traditional red pillar box—and they even stopped to take photos of a few. In Hope Junction, having the most wacky or elaborate roadside mailbox had become something of an unwritten contest, with everyone trying to get one up on their neighbours.

  It wasn’t long before they came to the Quartermaines’ farm gate and turned down the long gravel drive. Despite going away for his honeymoon, it looked as though Flynn had almost finished harvesting on Black Stump—on either side of the gravel were barren-looking paddocks, sharp yellow stubble poking up out of the hard ground. An abandoned header sat off to one side and in another paddock a group of dirt-coloured sheep clustered around an all but dried out dam.

  The land looked as if a painter had come and covered it in shades of yellow and brown, until the main house appeared on the horizon and colour burst into their view in the form of Karina’s award-winning country garden. There were already a good number of dusty utes and once-white four-wheel drives parked beneath the old eucalyptus trees that bordered the Quartermaines’ amazing house.

  ‘Nice place,’ Tom remarked as he slowed the ute and pulled up alongside the other vehicles. Someone had strung lights amongst the fruit trees in the front garden, and through the open car windows they heard classic Aussie rock songs blaring from a stereo on the verandah. With the sun setting behind the house and the sky a patchwork of pinks, purples and reds, the historic homestead looked like a fairyland.

  Lauren found herself staring, her stomach jittery about coming here now that it was Ellie’s home as well.

  ‘You okay?’ Having turned off the ignition, Tom grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘Yeah, sure. Soap operas might not be my TV shows of choice, but I’m doing this for my friends.’ As hard as it might be, if Whitney and Rats wanted her to make an effort with Ellie, she would. If it was too awkward or upsetting, she could take comfort in the fact she’d be leaving Hope Junction after Christmas. She lifted her chin high and smiled. While she liked his hand enveloping hers, she didn’t want anyone seeing such a gesture, so she gently removed it. ‘Let’s do this.’

  As they climbed out of the ute and slammed their doors in perfect harmony, Tom leaned into the back tray. He grabbed the bottle of wine they’d brought and the flowers he’d somehow managed to sweet talk Mrs Crouch into giving him for Ellie. As soon as they entered the garden, Whitney ran towards them, already slightly unsteady on her feet. White wine sloshed over the sides of her wine glass and Lauren guessed she hadn’t struck lucky with a pregnancy test just yet.

  ‘Hi guys.’ Whitney launched herself first at Lauren and then moved onto Tom, wrapping her arms around him and almost squashing the flowers they’d brought for Ellie. ‘Oh, sorry.’ She giggled. ‘I’m so pleased you could come. Let’s go get you both a drink.’

  Sandwiching herself between Tom and Lauren, she linked her elbows in theirs. Tom tried to keep a hold on the wine and flowers as Whitney dragged them over to the guest of honour.

  ‘Hi Ellie,’ Tom said as he offered out their gifts. ‘You look lovely tonight.’

  Something twisted in Lauren’s chest. It was polite to compliment the hosts, and he was only being nice, but that nasty little jealous monster reared its head.

  ‘Thanks
. These are beautiful. Thanks so much for coming.’ Ellie took the wine and the flowers, burying her head in the aromatic bouquet of colour. ‘Flynn!’ she called over her shoulder to where Flynn looked to be setting up the barbecue on the verandah. ‘Can you get Tom and Lauren a drink?’

  Ever the doting husband, Flynn left his post immediately and came over to them. ‘Hello there.’ He pulled Lauren in for a quick kiss on the cheek and then shook hands with Tom. ‘What’s your poison?’

  ‘Nothing for me, thanks. I’m on call.’ He turned to Lauren. ‘What would you like?’

  ‘Um…just a sauv blanc?’ Knowing Flynn’s issue with alcohol, Lauren felt a little awkward asking, but it didn’t appear to bother him.

  As he turned away, the others starting talking about the big screen that had been set up on the verandah.

  ‘It’s a little embarrassing.’ Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘But Flynn wants to make a big deal of it.’

  Said big-deal maker returned just at that moment with Lauren’s drink and a bottle of sauvignon blanc from a local winery to top up Ellie and Whitney’s glasses.

  ‘Here you are.’ Flynn handed the glass to Lauren, his fingertips brushing against hers. She waited for the spark, readied herself to hide it, but it didn’t come. Maybe Flynn Quartermaine really was losing his shine.

  Or maybe someone else had eclipsed him.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took a gulp and then remembered she wasn’t planning on drinking much. Flynn made his excuses and returned to the barbecue, but Rats came over in his place. As he, Whitney, Ellie and Tom chatted about their Christmas plans, Lauren took a moment to check out her surroundings.

  It seemed like half the town had turned up, but the affair had none of the flashy, elaborate feel Lauren had envisaged for a celebrity party. In fact, with steak and sausages on the barbie, a few mosquito coils burning along the verandah and the blokes holding their beers in their favourite stubbies, it appeared a very laid-back, typically country affair. The folks who weren’t still in the throes of harvest had even brought their swags, much like the hundreds of other farm parties she’d attended over the years.

  After a few more sips, Lauren felt herself relaxing. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear her archenemy speak.

  ‘I love that skirt,’ Ellie said, echoing Tom’s earlier sentiment.

  Lauren blinked, wondering where the others had gone and if Ellie was taking the piss. But she scrutinised her face and saw only genuine admiration. ‘Thanks.’

  Ellie sighed. ‘I envy your style. And Whitney’s. Without the wardrobe department at Channel Nine I’m a floundering fashion disaster.’

  She was wearing a knee-length denim skirt and a floaty hippie-style top and Lauren realised that, apart from her wedding dress, she’d only ever seen her wearing jeans or shorts. ‘Lucky you have lots of other things going for you.’

  ‘I suppose you’ve heard I’m starting drama classes for some of the local children?’

  ‘Yep.’ Lauren took another sip of her wine—just a wee one. She’d have to have been dead not to know. Every second person was singing Ellie’s praises for helping revive the theatrical society and then offering extra-curricular drama lessons for the kids. There wasn’t normally much of this type of stuff on offer in Hope Junction—sport or piano lessons were it—so some people were getting carried away.

  ‘Well, I was wondering…’ Ellie sounded nervous. ‘I’m going to put on a little production with the kids next year and I thought maybe you could come on board as my hair and make-up expert?’

  Lauren blinked, shocked by this proposal but recognising it as an attempt to offer an olive branch. The surprising thing was, she wanted to say yes. It sounded like a lot of fun. ‘I’d love to, Ellie, and thanks for thinking of me,’ she found herself saying, ‘but I’ve actually just handed in my notice. I’m leaving Hope Junction after Christmas.’

  ‘Oh. I didn’t know. That’s a pity.’ Ellie looked momentarily nonplussed. ‘I guess I’ll have to ask someone else.’

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ Lauren said, finding she meant it. ‘I appreciate you thinking of me.’

  Ellie smiled and reached out to touch Lauren’s arm. ‘I know we didn’t exactly get off to the best start—in high school or when I came back—but I really hoped we could be friends.’

  ‘I would have liked that.’ Lauren was unsure whether she meant that or not, but she found she no longer wanted to hurt Ellie any more than she wanted to be hurt herself.

  Before Ellie could reply, Flynn shouted from near the barbecue. ‘It’s starting. Everyone gather round.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Ellie muttered under her breath as the partygoers all flocked towards the large screen that had been set up on the verandah so that everyone could witness her Lake Street finale.

  Lauren felt Ellie’s hand grip her arm. ‘Come on, Lauren. Don’t leave me alone for this.’

  Perplexed, Lauren let herself be led the short distance to where Flynn stood. Smiling, he topped up their glasses as the theme music blasted out from the extra stereos. Lauren glanced around for Tom and saw him standing near the back near Emma, owner of the local hair salon. Although Lauren and Emma were friends, it was more through association than any special connection and Lauren didn’t like the way Emma leaned towards Tom, giggling like he was the funniest guy in the world. Her chest tightened and she longed for a reason to claim him as hers, but Ellie was still clutching her elbow like a lifeline. She took another sip of her wine and forced herself to watch the big screen.

  The half hour episode of Australia’s favourite soap opera dragged on and on. Lauren hadn’t watched it in over ten years—since Ellie had joined—but it wasn’t hard to get the drift. Stella Williams, Ellie’s onscreen persona, was married to the hottest guy on the show and they were having marriage issues. Near the end of the episode, Stella screamed at her husband that it was over and then left their lakeside shack, slamming the door behind her.

  Everyone around Lauren gasped as Stella ran crying down onto the shore. Lauren didn’t mean to get involved but she couldn’t help leaning forward slightly as she wondered what was going to happen next. There were only two minutes left of the show. Would Stella run into the lake, never to be seen again?

  Ellie’s grip suddenly tightened on her arm. ‘Oh, kill me now,’ she muttered.

  Lauren looked to her and then back to the screen just in time to see what was unmistakably a UFO landing on the edge of the lake. ‘No way,’ she said, unable to hold back a smile.

  ‘I know,’ moaned Ellie. ‘I didn’t tell anyone because I was mortified. Why couldn’t they have just killed me off in a car crash?’

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart.’ Flynn said as he wrapped an arm around his wife. Ellie let Lauren go and leaned into him. ‘At least it’s original.’

  Tom pressed Send on a text message to his mum, letting him know that he was hanging out with one of her favourite celebrities at the screening of her last episode and promising to try to get a photo with ‘Stella’ later.

  ‘Hi Dr Lewis.’

  Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he turned to look at the woman who’d been standing beside him. She was a tall, twenty-something woman with pink streaks in her long blonde hair and bright eye shadow to match. They’d shared a laugh during various parts of the show but hadn’t formally introduced themselves.

  ‘I’m Emma Smith.’ She held out her hand. ‘Local hairdresser extraordinaire. We haven’t met yet so I wanted to say welcome to Hope Junction. If you ever need a trim, I’m your girl.’

  ‘Thanks. That’s good to know.’ He offered her a smile, wondering if he could trust someone with pink streaks to touch his hair.

  ‘So, how are you enjoying our little town?’ Emma asked, taking a sip from her near-empty wine glass.

  ‘It’s great. The people are friendly and the weather is just how I like it. If you could put it by the ocean, I could live here forever.’

  She giggled, a little gratingly. ‘I see it didn’
t take Lauren too long to sink her claws into you.’

  Tom frowned, slightly taken aback by Emma’s derogatory tone, not to mention her words. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Oh, come on now, Dr Lewis. Everyone knows that Lauren Simpson is the female equivalent of the guy who’ll do anything in a skirt.’

  Anger suddenly reared up inside him. He took a deep breath and thrust his hands into his pockets. He’d never hit a woman in his life, but this one had pushed the wrong button.

  He glared at Emma. ‘This conversation is inappropriate and offensive. I’d better never hear you talk about Lauren like that again. Understood?’

  Red flared in her cheeks and she opened her mouth but closed it again a few moments later as if she didn’t know what to say. He raised his eyebrows at her, daring her to say one word against his friend again. But Emma turned on her dangerously high heels and stormed off towards the house. Not caring where she might be headed, Tom scanned the garden and verandah looking for Lauren. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her talking to Ellie and Flynn. The last thing she needed right now was to overhear someone like Emma shooting off poison about her.

  Feeling like the only way to protect Lauren was to stay near, Tom started across the grass towards her, grabbing a can of Coke from an esky on his way.

  ‘Would I be able to get a photo of you for my mum?’ he asked Ellie on arrival. ‘Oh, and great finale by the way. Very…unexpected.’

  ‘Not funny.’ Ellie glared at him, the corners of her lips lifting upwards.

  Lauren smiled too and he noticed she looked much more comfortable than when they’d arrived. He smiled back, then turned to Ellie again.

  ‘Is that a yes to the photo?’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be a laughing stock after that exit, but—’ she thrust her hands up into the air ‘—why the hell not? Did you say you want the photo for your mum?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Bless her socks.’ Ellie beckoned to him. ‘You come in the photo too then. She’ll love that.’

  He looked to Lauren and Flynn to contradict her but they seemed to think it a good idea. Lauren shoved him forward and offered, ‘I’ll take the photo. Give me your phone?’