Walking the Line

by Mandy Magro

  She gave him a tender pat before turning her attention to the map. Her forehead wrinkled to mimic Bruce’s as she tried to work out where she needed to be heading, laughing to herself when she realised it was upside down. Not a good start. She flipped it round the right way. Her map reading skills weren’t the best, but from what she could see, they would soon be heading through the main street and towards her final destination. A mixture of emotions bubbled inside of her—the anxiety and anticipation of what might lay ahead making her feel a little nauseous.

  Or maybe her queasiness was because she’d barely eaten since her early lunch, other than her bag of M&Ms. Alistair’s betrayal had sent her off the rails in more ways than one. Usually she would have devoured a juice and a wheatgrass shot by now, with a protein ball or a few pieces of sushi for her afternoon snack. She was a firm believer in six small meals a day to help keep her in shape, and being a pescetarian meant eating no meat, so she had to be mindful of where she got her nutrients from.

  After a couple of weeks of sugar-packed pity eating and drinking more alcohol than usual to dull the heartache, she really needed to start taking better care of herself. Maybe she should stop somewhere in town and grab a healthy bite to eat before she headed out to the Armstrongs’ property? It threw some people off centre when they had to try and prepare food for a non-meat eater, and she didn’t want to arrive there and expect them to cater for her.

  That got her to thinking about her hosts. It was going to be weird being a houseguest of people she didn’t know from a bar of soap. What if they made her feel uncomfortable? What if Dallas liked to walk around in his jocks, or his mum was a stubby short of a six-pack? Katherine Armstrong had sounded nice and normal enough on the phone when she had rung to introduce herself, but until you lived with a person you never truly got to see the real side of them—and she was going to get that chance over the next week. She groaned. The things she did in the name of her job.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she blew it out slowly. She could do this. She was bloody well here now so there was no other option. Grabbing her mobile phone from its holder on her windscreen, she sent a quick text to Katherine, letting her know she would be arriving in about an hour or so. Before she’d even popped it in the holder Katherine had texted back.

  No worries, Charlize. Are you going to be joining us for dinner? I’ve made beef and dumpling stew.

  Charlize’s stomach revolted at the thought. She felt bad, but there was no way she would be tucking into a meat stew.

  Oh thanks for the offer, but I’ve already eaten.

  She felt bad about lying but she didn’t want to offend Katherine straight off the bat by saying she couldn’t eat her cooking. She would tell her tomorrow, before she came back into town to grab all the necessities she would need for the fridge and pantry, for herself and for Bruce.

  Okay then, love. Please drive carefully as there are lots of roos on the road at night. We will see you around 7.

  Charlize smiled at the way Katherine had just called her love. It reminded her of her mother and made her feel a little more at ease.

  Thanks for the heads up about the roos … will be extra careful. See you soon.

  Bruce whined beside her—his way of letting her know he needed to go. Unbuckling herself, she hurried around to the passenger side, undid his harness and then placed him down on the grass. As per usual, Bruce did his sniffing and circling until he found the perfect spot. Charlize turned away to give him some privacy, something Bruce had also learnt to do for her if he happened to wander in on her on the toilet. Sometimes she swore he was more human than dog.

  She drew in a deep breath while waiting, the air carrying with it a hint of dampness and lacking the heavy pollution of traffic. It was nice to know she was breathing clean air for a change. Job done, Bruce scooted to her feet and she scooped him up from the ground, buckled him back in and then made her way back around to the driver’s side.

  Pulling back out onto the road, Charlize eyed a sign that announced she was entering the hometown of the famous writer and poet, Henry Lawson. Her eyebrows shot up. She loved Henry Lawson. Her father had read her ‘The Loaded Dog’ countless times as a child. She’d had no idea this was the little town Lawson had called home. She smiled as she shook her head in wonder. How cool—you learn something new every day.

  The pale blush of early evening was just beginning to fall and she had to admit the countryside was very pretty—in a bushy kind of way. The thick scrubland on either side of the road was beautiful, the massive trunks of the towering ghost gums in sharp contrast to the earthy hues of the land. She could just imagine a fashion photo shoot in amongst the native trees. Pink and grey galahs scattered themselves along the roadside as they hunted for food from within the grass, their bold and loud behaviour making Charlize smile.

  While ignoring her grumbling belly, she tried to take in every detail while still keeping her eyes firmly on the road. The thought of a kangaroo jumping out in front of her VW Golf hire car terrified her. What if she swerved too quickly and lost control, or even worse, hit the poor defenceless creature? Shaking away the horrible image, she instead focused on the colonial style cottage houses lining the sides of the road, their lawns maintained and the gardens filled with colourful spring flowers. Some of the houses were so tiny she couldn’t imagine one person living in them, let alone a family.

  Ahead, a beat up four-wheel drive approached her. Ten minutes since the last car had passed, she sat a little forward to see who it was, laughing at herself as she did so. As if she’d do that in Sydney with the amount of roaring traffic on the roads. The elderly driver dipped his hat-covered head and smiled as he passed. She returned his friendliness with a wave, her smile spreading as she spotted the three dogs in the back tray, their tongues lolling out to the side as they eyed her. She wished she could reach out and pat them as they passed.

  Now driving along what appeared to be the main street of town, she slowed as she passed a cute little bakery, a pub, a newsagency, a chemist, a butcher shop, another pub, an IGA, a real estate agent, an accountant’s, a bank, another pub, a library, a dress shop, a menswear shop, a newspaper, a hardware store, another pub, a servo, a Chinese takeaway, yet another pub—boy oh boy these country folks liked to have a drink—and last but not least, a hairdresser and beautician’s.

  There was a lot more in Grenfell than she’d assumed. Shame washed over her at her initial prejudice. Why she’d expected the place to be some sort of ghost town was beyond her now. Before she had time to blink again, she found herself on the side of town where a cute looking cafe had its doors wide open, the light from inside spilling out onto the footpath. It appeared this would be where she was dining tonight, as there had been nothing else open other than the pubs.

  Following suit of the three other cars parked out the front of Yummies Café, Charlize began to reverse into a parking spot, cursing under her breath. Bruce eyed her as his little paws gripped the seat cover precariously. His eyes were as wide as saucers. Charlize couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him, holding on for dear life while still strapped safely into his canine seatbelt. She’d always been ridiculously bad at reversing—thank goodness the Golf had a reversing camera or she’d most probably have ended up with a pole embedded into the back of the car.

  She’d never been to a place where everyone reversed into a parking space, and it was just plain weird in her book. If they had to do that in Sydney, with the traffic having to stop and give way every time someone wanted to park, it would most certainly create road rage. She was half okay trying it without an audience, but she could only imagine how uncomfortable she was going to feel in the middle of the day with people watching her manoeuvre with all the skill of a blind person. Switching off the engine, she unclipped her seatbelt and then Bruce’s. She grabbed her handbag from the passenger side floor, opened it up for Bruce to jump in—her handbag was like his second home—and once he was comfy she climbed out.

  Reaching in beside him,
she searched for her mobile phone. ‘Now you try and remain undercover in there buddy, and I’ll make sure to order you something for dinner too. I just need to make a quick call to let Jasper know we’ve arrived here safe and sound.’

  CHAPTER

  9

  Dallas rolled the last suet dumpling around in his bowl so it soaked up every last drop of gravy and then shoved it into his mouth. He’d been eating this meal—his gran’s very own recipe—since he was a little boy, and he swore it tasted better and better every time he ate it. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as he savoured every chew. ‘My god you’re a good cook Mum, just like Gran was. I’m never gonna leave home if you keep making meals like this.’

  ‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, young man.’ Katherine looked up from where she was reading the newspaper on the other side of the dining table, smiling playfully at her son. ‘And if that’s true then I’d better stop cooking for you. How am I ever going to have any grandbabies if you don’t move out of home?’

  Dallas chuckled and then glanced over at the pot on the stove. ‘Is there enough for seconds?’

  ‘Sure is.’ Katherine tapped her mobile phone. ‘Charlize texted me earlier to let me know she was right for dinner. Said she’d be here in about an hour. Lord knows what she’s up to, maybe checking the town out. Not that there’s much to do in there on a weeknight other than enjoy a tipple at one of the pubs.’

  ‘Oh that’s who it was. I was wondering who you were texting.’ Dallas shoved his chair back and stood, taking his bowl with him to the stove. He spooned in two more ladles. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.’

  ‘She said she’s already had dinner.’ Katherine motioned to the plate in Dallas’s hands, which was now full to the brim. ‘She can have some for breakfast if there’s any left over. And don’t forget I made apple pie for dessert too.’

  ‘Cor, yum! I’ll be sitting on the lounge like a beached whale after this.’

  Katherine glanced up at the clock above the stove. ‘Don’t forget you have to pick up Gramps soon.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Dallas dropped his gaze, and his voice. ‘He’s missing out on this yummy feed as well. I feel bad that he goes and sits by himself at the cafe every month.’

  ‘I know, I’ve told him that many times.’ Katherine shrugged. ‘But you know Gramps. When he sets his mind to something, that’s it, there’s no talking him round.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I never really understood why he kept doing it, until I lost your father. When a piece of you suddenly goes missing, you’ll do the strangest things to feel close to them again. Seeing he and Gran used to go there for dinner, it’s his little way of coping, of somehow pretending everything is still how it used to be.’

  Dallas nodded, his shoulders slumping. Death was such a final thing. And everyone coped in their own way. His was riding his motorbike, his mother’s was cooking and cleaning, and Gramps’s was going places and doing things that made him feel close to Gran. He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat.

  ‘I’ll shove the last of this in and then go and get him. It’ll give my dinner time to go down so I can have a decent sized helping of dessert when I get back.’

  Katherine gave him a wink over the top of her newspaper. ‘That sounds like a very clever plan to me.’ She folded the corner down to meet Dallas’s eyes. ‘Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, did you tell the boys about the calendar shoot yet?’

  Dallas nodded. ‘Sure have.’

  ‘How’d they react to the news that they were going to be famous?’

  Dallas sat back in his seat, grinning. ‘They’re all chuffed, and a bit more nervous now too.’

  Reaching out for her glass of red wine, Katherine spoke before taking a sip. ‘So everyone’s okay with the change?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t they be? Having an offer like this to get behind it is more than we could’ve ever wished for.’ Dallas stood and gathered the plates from the table, making sure to give his mum a kiss on the cheek. ‘And it’s all thanks to you saying yes. Thanks Mum. Sorry I overreacted when you told me about the interview.’

  ‘No need for apologies.’ Katherine smiled. ‘And don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a whole week with Charlize ahead of you because I said yes.’

  Dallas groaned melodramatically. ‘Oh God, don’t remind me.’

  CHAPTER

  10

  Half a dozen customers glanced up as Charlize stepped into the cafe, all but one of them men. And not suit-clad businessmen like she was used to seeing where she dined, but King Gee wearing men who looked like they’d all laboured their lives away. All except for one very well-dressed elderly gentleman who was tucking into what appeared to be a chicken kiev and salad. There was something on the table in front of him that glimmered from the lights above, but from the angle she was standing she couldn’t quite make out what it was. Some sort of frame?

  The man caught her eye and smiled at her, his eyes creasing at the corners, and she returned his gesture wholeheartedly just before her belly revolted in protest at the smell of the deep fryer oil. She had to fight her urge to flee. She never went into fast food joints in Sydney but this was her only option—other than Katherine Armstrong’s beef stew—and she was starving. She looked around for a place to sit. The only other female customer in the place was eyeing her up and down. Charlize gave the seventy-something year old a friendly wave, but she quickly looked the other way. A younger man Charlize guessed to be in his fifties sat opposite the elderly woman and he offered her a small smile. She smiled back at him.

  Although the scent of hot oil didn’t appeal to her, the décor did. It felt so warm and welcoming, and even a little alternative. The mismatched tables were dressed in pretty tablecloths. Fresh flowers adorned the front counter and cleverly positioned plants gave the diners a bit of privacy from each other. The walls looked freshly painted in very appealing shades of yellow and blue and were decorated with abstract looking paintings, and the floor was so clean it was gleaming. Over in the corner were two lounge-style beanbags and a bookcase with a sign inviting patrons to take a book. Alongside the counter was a cake display that made her mouth water—everything appearing homemade.

  Feeling all eyes still upon her, she quickly tried to find a private spot to sit, her chosen table positioned behind a large potted palm. Placing her handbag down on the seat beside her, she silently motioned to Bruce to stay put. Movement beside the table grabbed her attention and she looked up into the eyes of an extremely pretty, smiling waitress, her dark features reminding her a little of Jane. Gee whizz, talk about quick service.

  ‘Hi there, are you ready to order?’

  ‘Um …’ Charlize looked around the table for the menu, but there was none.

  ‘Oh, I’m getting new menus made up.’ The waitress pointed over her shoulder with her pen. ‘So for now it’s up on the board. Or I can go and grab one of our takeaway ones if you like. ’

  ‘Oh, no that’s okay.’ Charlize looked past the woman and quickly scanned the large timber menu, finding herself slightly overwhelmed by the selection. ‘I’ll have a chicken caesar salad, minus the chicken, but with extra anchovies please, and could I possibly have a hamburger minus everything but the patty?’ She knew she must sound like an absolute idiot, but Bruce needed to eat too.

  The waitress didn’t bat an eyelid, but pointed past Charlize to the handbag, her smile now lighting up her entire face. ‘Would the patty happen to be for that little bundle of furry gorgeousness?’

  Charlize turned to see Bruce staring up at the waitress, his head tipped to one side and his tongue dangling out of his mouth. For the second time that day she wished the chair would swallow her up. She half smiled, half grimaced. ‘Is that okay—’ she read the waitress’s nametag ‘—Hollie?’

  Hollie giggled and then winked. ‘I won’t tell the boss if you don’t.’ She placed her pad and pen down on the table. ‘Is it okay if I have a cuddle? I adore dogs, especially incy wincy ones like him. Or is it a her?’


  ‘It’s a him. His name’s Bruce.’ Charlize went to gather him up. ‘Are you sure it’s all right to let everyone see him?’

  Hollie shooed the question away. ‘Sure I’m sure. There’s really not enough of him to bother anyone. And all jokes aside, I’m the boss so what I say goes round here.’

  Charlize plucked Bruce from her handbag and handed him over. She smiled as she watched Hollie cuddle her enthusiastic ball of love into her chest. ‘This is your cafe?’

  ‘As of last month, yup, it’s all mine.’ Hollie beamed proudly as she avoided licks to the face. ‘I’ve worked here ever since I left high school.’ She raised manicured dark eyebrows, solemnity flashing in her chocolate brown eyes. ‘For ten long years I’ve wanted to take the place over and revamp it into more of a healthy cafe rather than your run of the mill fish and chip shop, so when old Jimmy decided he needed to retire—and so he should at seventy-two—I grabbed the place with both hands.’ She waved her free arm around the room. ‘As you can see I’m almost there with my overhaul.’

  ‘Oh, how wonderful.’ Charlize made a point of looking around the room. ‘I don’t know what it looked like before but I’m loving what you’ve done to the place.’

  ‘Thanks, that means a lot. I love your blouse, by the way. May I?’ Hollie cuddled Bruce into her then reached out and gently felt the fabric of Charlize’s sleeve with her free hand. ‘Oh, silk, how I love thee.’ Hollie rolled her eyes in pleasure. ‘I adore fine fabrics. I also dabble in a bit of sewing outside of here. Ever since I was a little girl it was my dream to go to the big smoke and become a fashion stylist—’ she shrugged ‘—but then I fell in love with my high school sweetheart, Tim, and the rest is history.’