A Home Like Ours

by Fiona Lowe

  ‘Wuck!’ Milo clapped.

  Suddenly there was the long hiss of air brakes and a flash of tail-lights. Milo squealed, startled by the sound.

  ‘It’s okay. The truck’s just resting.’

  Except it started moving again, this time turning slowly, its wheels carefully manoeuvring onto the driveway that led down to the cottage.

  Unease pulsed through her and she forced herself to speak to Judith. ‘Do you know what’s going on?’

  Judith gave her a feline smile. ‘I can take an educated guess.’

  Helen gritted her teeth. ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘Excavators usually dig.’

  The truck was disappearing down the drive. Helen didn’t waste any more time with gloating Judith. She half walked, half jogged past the women and bounced the pram through the orchard, trying to reach the garden beds before the truck. But it didn’t pull off into the garden—it continued down towards the river.

  Helen reached the cottage just as the driver swung out of the cab. Panting, she took a moment so she sounded calm and conversational instead of frantic and frazzled. Milo jabbered enthusiastically, pointing to the truck. It gave her an idea.

  ‘My grandson loves any sort of heavy equipment.’

  ‘Mine too.’ The driver pulled on a high-vis vest over his blue singlet.

  ‘That’s an excavator, right?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘So what’s the plan?’

  He slammed the truck door closed and tapped the signage on the door. Moore Demolitions Corowa NSW.

  Something spasmed inside her. ‘You’re demolishing the cottage?’

  ‘And flattening that lot.’ He indicated the garden beds.

  ‘What about the orchard?’

  ‘Yeah, that too.’

  Her heart raced, but her sluggish mind struggled to generate the questions she needed to ask. She pointed to the cyclone fence. ‘What about next door?’

  He consulted a clipboard. ‘No. Just this lot.’

  ‘Who ordered the demolition?’ Not that she really needed to be told. She was ninety-nine point nine per cent certain who, and why it was happening so early in the morning.

  He grimaced and shoved a hard hat on his head. ‘No time for twenty questions.’

  ‘It’s a pretty simple question. Whose name is on the demolition order? Who’s paying the bill?’

  ‘Look, love, if you want to stay so your grandkid can watch the show, fine. But—’ he pointed to a tree, ‘—you need to stand back over there.’

  He busied himself walking around the tray and doing things she assumed were preparations for unloading the excavator. Once it was off the truck, he’d drive it headlong into the cottage—ripping and slashing, and destroying a hundred years of history. Destroying the dwelling that had rescued her and given her a place to belong. A place to call home.

  But it was much bigger than that. It meant the gang of four were making their first strike.

  Without conscious thought, Helen grabbed the clipboard off the wheel hub and threw it under the pram with no consideration for the strawberries. Then she rounded the front of the truck and ran for the cottage. After hauling and bumping the pram up the worn bluestone steps, she locked the brakes and sat down hard on the veranda. With shaking hands she found her phone. It took her two attempts to get the numbers right and then it was ringing.

  Please still be home. Don’t have left for Shep. Be. Home.

  ‘Missing me already?’

  For once she welcomed Bob’s flippant flirty greeting.

  ‘I’m at the cottage,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s a demolition order for the entire block.’

  ‘What?!’

  But she didn’t have time to explain. ‘I need chains and padlocks.’

  ‘Go wisely and slowly,’ Bob quoted. ‘Those who rush stumble and fall.’

  ‘Not now!’

  ‘What does the sign on the fence say? There’ll be a name and we’ll have fourteen days to ob—’

  The whine of the truck tray joined the bird song and Helen held out her phone. ‘Can you hear that? It’s an excavator being unloaded.’

  ‘Bloody hell. I’ve got some chain and padlocks in the shed.’

  ‘Knowing that should bother me,’ Helen said, ‘but good. Bring them. And bring Jade and your phone and the car charger—’

  ‘What the hell are you doing, lady?’ The truck driver stood at the bottom of the steps, booted feet wide apart, hands firmly on hips.

  It went against Helen’s every principle to fall back on the weaker-sex chestnut to get what she wanted. But when it came to a crooked mayor and dodgy councillors, the rulebook went out the window.

  ‘My blood pressure’s a bit up and down. I get dizzy sometimes so I thought I’d have a bit of a sit-down. I’ve rung a friend to come and get us. I’m Helen, by the way.’

  He was silent for a moment, weighing her up. ‘Daryl.’

  ‘You don’t happen to have any Panadol in the truck, do you, Daryl?’

  He sighed. ‘I’ll get the first-aid kit.’

  The moment he disappeared on the other side of the truck, she lifted her phone back to her ear. ‘Hurry.’

  ‘It’s me,’ Jade said. ‘I’m in the shed with Bob. He says he needs better padlocks. Also, I didn’t know you have blood pressure problems. You’re not having a stroke, are you?’ Jade sounded anxious.

  ‘It’s a ruse. I’m buying time. Tell Bob to come straight here. You go to Hoopers and buy the padlocks.’

  ‘It’s barely seven. They won’t—’

  ‘They will. It’s when the tradies shop.’ She saw Daryl’s yellow helmet vanish from the cab. ‘I have to go.’

  She deliberately slumped against the veranda post and when Daryl handed her the first-aid kit, she gave him a weak smile. ‘Thanks. You’re very kind.’

  He grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the compliment. ‘Got a bit of the blood pressure meself. Makes me grumpy so the wife told me it was her or the job.’

  ‘Oh?’ She hoped the vague enquiry might gain her more information than a direct question.

  ‘Yeah. Retiring wasn’t a hard choice. Sorry about before. I’m usually fishing at this time of the morning, but me son’s got a big job on. He turned this one down, but then they added twenty-five per cent so I’ve crossed the river for the day.’ Daryl grinned, looking like a totally different man. ‘We’re calling it our Christmas bonus. It’s taking us and the grandkids to Canada for a white Christmas.’

  Helen swallowed the Panadol tablet to stop herself from swearing. If anything, it might ease the ache in her hips. ‘That sounds special.’

  ‘Yeah. Grandkids, eh? Who knew they’d be so much fun. Yours is at the age where everything’s new and fascinating.’

  ‘He’s a sponge.’ She had an overwhelming urge to brag. ‘He parrots back Greek words as fast as English and he points to all the farm animals when I say their names.’

  Daryl pulled out his wallet and showed her a family photo. ‘Mine are bigger now but this is Oliver and Sienna.’

  ‘They’re gorgeous.’ And she meant it. ‘I see Oliver has your nose.’

  ‘Yeah. Poor bugger.’ But Daryl didn’t hide his pleasure that she’d noticed. ‘How you feeling? Bit better?’

  Guilt thrummed at the strings of her deception. ‘My friend will be here soon.’

  Daryl’s phone rang and he glanced at the screen. ‘It’s the boss so I better take it.’ Helen nodded as he said, ‘Hello, son.’

  Come on, Bob. Why wasn’t he here? He’d set up his shed in a grid pattern, naming the corridors after Melbourne city streets, and recorded the contents onto a spreadsheet. ‘I can find anything in under two minutes,’ he’d said proudly when he’d added her boxes and furniture to the document. She’d muttered something about OCD tendencies, but right now she’d take it all back if he turned up with the chains.

  Daryl had wandered off. What was it about mobile phones, men and the need to walk and talk?

  A p
lume of dust rose from the road and then Bob’s ute pulled up between the cottage and the excavator. He jumped out, stepped up into the excavator and a moment later reappeared patting his pocket and touching his nose.

  ‘Ob! Ob!’ Milo threw out his arms and kicked his legs.

  ‘And today he deserves all of your adoration,’ Helen said. ‘He’s a clever man.’

  Bob heaved a hessian bag from the ute, staggering slightly under the weight, and carried it to the veranda. ‘Let’s hope these posts aren’t rotten or chaining ourselves to them won’t do us much good.’

  Ourselves? ‘It’s just me. I need you and Jade to—’

  ‘Together we can do something great.’

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘I did! Just then.’ He looped chain around the veranda post four times before wrapping it around her waist.

  ‘What about Milo?’ Helen said.

  ‘He stays in the stroller. Jade will be here soon.’

  ‘So will Daryl.’ She pointed to the large figure stomping towards them.

  ‘He doesn’t look happy.’ Bob sat down next to her and pulled chain around himself, passing it under and over and then around the post closest to him. The heavy-duty brass padlock glinted in the sun as he pressed it shut. ‘The key’s too big to swallow.’

  ‘Why would we—oh, right! They could get it off us.’ Her fingers tapped on the old boards, helping her think. ‘Give it to me. And the excavator key too.’

  Ignoring the chain digging into her waist, she lay back and stretched her arm to its full length. ‘Come on, come on,’ she muttered, scraping the key across the boards, desperate to feel the jar up her arm when they hit the gap near the front door. ‘Bingo.’ She released the keys and they fell with a tinkle. ‘They’re with the snakes and the spiders now.’

  Bob grinned at her. ‘And they can stay there.’

  ‘Aww! Fair go, Helen!’ Daryl’s complexion was puce and he was panting so hard she worried for his blood pressure.

  ‘Breathe, Daryl! I promise it’s not personal. I’m only doing this because I have very strong reasons to believe this demolition’s illegal.’

  ‘That’s a lot of tommy rot.’ Daryl strode to the truck before reappearing. ‘You took the clipboard, didn’t you?’

  ‘Sorry, but not sorry,’ Helen said. ‘Daryl, this is Bob. Bob, meet Daryl. He retired to fish and spend time with his grandchildren.’

  ‘Good to meet you, Daryl. I enjoy fishing myself. Nothing like sitting in the tinny and watching the sunrise.’

  ‘Well, it sure as hell beats dealing with crap like this. And of course the job’s legal.’ Daryl puffed out his chest. ‘Moore Demolitions have never done anything dodgy.’

  Helen didn’t think it would gain her anything if she reminded Daryl he was no longer running the company. She didn’t want to cast aspersions on his son.

  ‘We believe there are some dodgy councillors involved. Why else do you think they’ve used you instead of a local contractor? Why throw so much money at the job?’

  Daryl’s eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened as he considered Helen’s point. ‘Bloody Victorians!’ He swiped at his phone and stomped away talking.

  CHAPTER

  41

  Jade waved to Bob as he accelerated out of the empty car park at triple the speed limit. Then she turned and ran into the hardware store. She’d never been inside before and its size surprised her. Scanning the signs, she wondered if padlocks would be in homewares or building supplies. She glanced around, looking for someone to ask, but the only hint there was anyone else in the store was a flash of yellow fluoro in the distance.

  She walked the length of the first aisle and came to huge glass doors that led to the garden section. Roof sprinklers misted over hundreds of plants, their foliage spread wide and flowers tilted back in joyous greeting. Her heart sang and the lush verdant green tempted her inside. She took a step.

  Padlocks!

  ‘Hello, Jade. You’re out early.’ Tara Hooper smiled as if she was genuinely happy to see her. ‘Can I help you find something?’

  Jade consulted her phone where she’d typed Bob’s instructions. ‘I need three eighty-millimetre heavy brass padlocks.’

  ‘Are you sure? They’re industrial padlocks and eighty-three dollars each.’

  ‘It’s what Bob told me to get. He and Helen are chaining themselves to the cottage to stop it from being demolished.’

  Tara blinked. ‘Helen’s old cottage?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It’s not being demolished, Jade. It’s being moved.’

  Jade knew she couldn’t mention a possibly dodgy mayor. ‘You might think that, but it’s not what Helen’s saying. She rang ten minutes ago from the cottage and told Bob to bring chains. He dropped me off here to buy padlocks and said to put them on his account. I’m going straight there to do a Facebook Live and let the town know what’s happening.’

  Tara frowned and Jade’s gut squirmed. ‘It’s legit,’ she added. ‘You can ring him if you want.’

  ‘I believe you, Jade, but it’s all a misunderstanding. Tell you what, I’ll drive you to the cottage and explain everything to Helen and Bob.’

  Jade thought of the two-kilometre walk and the precious time saved. ‘Thanks, that would be awesome. But I still need the padlocks.’

  Tara laughed. ‘If I was picking teams, I’d want you on mine.’

  Instead of blocking the compliment and bracing for a kicker, Jade grinned and let it warm her.

  ‘Maybe park behind the truck,’ she suggested to Tara as they reached the bottom of the cottage’s driveway.

  ‘To block it in?’

  ‘Just in case.’

  She expected an argument, but Tara pulled up millimetres away from the vehicle.

  Jade jumped out of the four-wheel-drive and Milo cried when he saw her, suddenly remembering they’d been separated. ‘Coming, buddy.’ She ran up the steps, undid the straps and picked him up.

  ‘Got the extra padlocks, love?’ Bob asked.

  ‘Yes, but Tara says you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Right, Tara?’

  ‘Right.’ Tara stood at the bottom of the steps. ‘You don’t have to worry, Helen. The cottage is safe. It’s being moved to the historical society so we can restore it to its original condition.’

  ‘I didn’t know that was happening.’ Helen rubbed her temples and sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Jade. All I’ve done is muck up your trip to Shepparton.’

  ‘We can still make it, right, B—’

  ‘Hang on!’ Helen leaned forward as far as the chains allowed. ‘Tara, who’s “we”?’

  ‘Jon and I put in a proposal to spearhead a community restoration project. We kept it quiet in case it didn’t go anywhere. You know how slow the shire can be, but in the end it’s all happened amazingly quickly. I was going to tell you as soon as we got the green light, but things at work have been crazy. And that’s a whole other story.’ She sighed and pulled her hair back, twisting it into a knot. ‘To be honest, I’m surprised the move’s happening today. I thought it was next week.’

  A prickling whoosh of sensation streaked along Jade’s skin. She shared a look with Helen, knowing she was mirroring the same distrust and scepticism.

  ‘Who did you deal with at the shire, Tara?’ Jade asked.

  ‘About the project or the move?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Geoff Rayson for the idea, then Ryan Tippett about the logistics of the move.’

  The two men who’d turfed Helen out of the cottage. ‘Bastards!’

  ‘I’ve seen the demolition order, Tara,’ Helen said. ‘They’re not moving the cottage. They’re knocking it down.’

  ‘No! That’s got to be a mistake.’

  ‘We don’t think so.’ Bob indicated the truck with New South Wales plates. ‘It doesn’t say house-moving, does it?’

  Tara’s face paled. ‘Don’t move. I’ll ring Ryan straight away and sort it out.’

  Jade plonked Milo on Bob’s lap
. ‘Can you hold onto him for a minute and give me your phone, please? I’ll post some photos. Helen, think about what to say on a Facebook Live.’

  Bob nodded towards the truck driver, who was still talking on his phone. ‘Reckon you should give me the padlocks first so we’re all secure when Daryl gets back.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Jade followed Bob’s instructions on where to place them and snapped them shut.

  ‘Here you go, mate.’ Bob handed Milo the keys.

  ‘That’s not a great idea. He’ll lose—Oh!’

  Bob grinned. ‘Smart girl.’

  Jade usually hated being called a girl, but unlike when others said it and she felt the sting of an insult, whenever Bob said it, it sounded like praise.

  ‘I’m calling Fiza and I’ve sent out a message on the garden’s WhatsApp to get the women down here,’ she said. ‘Will I ring Vivian?’

  ‘I’ll call Vivian, but let’s do the Facebook Live first,’ Helen said. ‘Then we’ll have some footage and you can ring WIN TV News.’

  ‘You think they’ll listen to me?’

  ‘Of course they’ll listen to you. You’ve had an article published in the Shepparton News and now you’re giving them a scoop.’

  Helen’s confidence steadied Jade’s nerves. ‘Tara, do you have any lipstick Helen can use?’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. I don’t need frippery.’

  Jade glared at her. ‘If this video goes viral or lands up on the TV news, you’ll thank me for the lipstick.’

  ‘She’s right. A bit of colour suits you,’ Bob said and smiled encouragingly. Helen shot him a death stare and he raised his hands. ‘Not that you don’t look great without it.’

  Tara handed Helen the lipstick and a mirror. ‘Ryan’s not in the office until nine and the mayor’s not picking up so I’ve left messages.’

  ‘Yeah, well, they’re not stupid,’ Helen said. ‘They planned for this to happen before business hours.’

  ‘But why? Geoff Rayson was genuinely excited at the prospect of the cottage being saved from demolition.’

  ‘It’s all going to come out really soon.’ Jade lifted Bob’s phone. ‘Remember—three points, Helen. Clear and concise. And in three, two, one …’