Something to Talk About (Rose Hill, #2)

by Rachael Johns

  The décor wasn’t exactly to his taste, but his contract was only for six months.

  ‘This will do nicely,’ he said.

  ‘Feel free to move or box anything up,’ said Joanne. ‘Mrs Lord won’t be coming home sadly—she has Alzheimer’s and she doesn’t have any family. She and the late Mr Lord were never blessed with children. Make yourself at home.’

  Ferg didn’t know where he was supposed to put any of the stuff if he did clear it out, but decided not to ask in case it prolonged the conversation. He was working out how to politely send the women on their merry way when Joanne glanced at her watch.

  ‘Look, we hate to dump you and run, but the game will be starting soon and we don’t want to miss the bounce. Sure you don’t want to come?’

  ‘No, I’d rather get settled in, but thanks. It was kind of you to escort me out here.’

  ‘No worries.’ Beck smiled. ‘It’s easy to get lost when you don’t know the roads.’

  ‘Well then,’ Joanne said, ‘you get settled and Trev and I will have you round to dinner in a few days. I’ll invite Beck and the rest of our staff so you can get to know everyone before school starts.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He waved them off and, as the four-wheel drive grew smaller, let out a long slow breath. Aside from the occasional murmur from the cows in the paddock close to the house, there was absolute silence. He’d gotten used to quiet (except when at school) over the last few weeks and told himself it was better than meaningless chatter, or worse, pretence. And the air felt so fresh! Maybe he’d like living in the country after all.

  Heading back inside, he approached Mrs Norris’s box as if she were a lion.

  ‘Hey there, gorgeous girl.’ Although she might be pretty on the outside, there was nothing beautiful about her on the inside, but Ferg attempted sweet talk anyway.

  Holding his breath, he released the latches to open the door of the cage and stepped back. Mrs Norris glared at him as she slowly reached one paw out of the box and took a tentative step towards freedom. She hissed at him and then ran straight under the coffee table.

  ‘Trust me,’ he told her, ‘life hasn’t exactly gone according to my plans either, but we just gotta make the best of a shitty situation.’

  Then, leaving her to sulk in solitude, he went into the kitchen to make a coffee.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Oh my God! They won!’

  As the siren sounded, the townfolk erupted in cheers and screams, her sister-in-law Meg jumped up and down like a kid on Red Bull, and Tabitha Cooper-Jones stifled a yawn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited about the local team’s first grand final win in thirty-nine years—she loved football as much as the next person and had even played until she’d lost her arm—but it had already been a long day.

  That morning, she and Meg had been working at their tea rooms in nearby Rose Hill, where Tabitha now lived. It had been one of their busy mornings, with the supporters from the other footy team stopping by for a drink, scone and/or ice-cream on their way to Walsh. Things had died off just after the lunch rush due to everyone being at the game and so they’d decided to close early. Tab had sent Meg off so she wouldn’t miss the starting siren and cleaned up the day’s mess herself. Afterwards she’d been sorely tempted to sneak upstairs for a nap, but she’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t at least make an appearance at the oval.

  ‘Aunty Tab, Aunty Tab! Did you see Dad kick that goal? We won because of him.’

  She chuckled as her almost ten-year-old nephew threw his arms around her waist. ‘I most certainly did. You must have been giving him some pointers.’

  Ned laughed. But while he had a talent for footy and was better than most his age, Tab attributed her brother’s performance to something else entirely. He’d been an awesome single dad to Ned since the death of his first wife, Leah, and had maintained his passion for dairy farming, but in every other aspect of life he’d operated almost on autopilot. His best mate Funky had voiced his fears to Tab that Lawson was in danger of becoming a recluse, but neither of them had had a clue what to do about it.

  And then Meg had driven into Rose Hill.

  Her moving into a haunted house in what had practically been a ghost town had been the talk of the town for a while and, when local busybody Adeline Walsh dug up dirt on Meg, it had been quite the scandal.

  But Lawson had been smitten in spite of her not-so-glowing past.

  It made Tab’s heart sing to see how good he and Meg were together, and she loved the tight-knit team of three they’d formed with Ned. Tab was pretty sure that even Leah couldn’t have picked a better stand-in mother for her son. Tab had been well and truly relegated to the position of aunty, and while she loved the role and the opportunities it brought to spoil her nephew, her brother’s happily-ever-after had made her re-evaluate her own spinster status.

  ‘Come on, let’s go see Dad.’ Ned tugged her and Meg towards the team who were now shaking hands with the opposition.

  ‘I’m not sure we’ll even be able to get near him,’ Tab replied, but let him drag her nonetheless. Adeline was already there taking photos for the Walsh Whisperer and the rest of the town were crowding in around their heroes.

  Music had just kicked off from the loudspeakers—the Wanderers theme song on repeat—and someone nearby cracked a bottle of bubbly. The atmosphere held the promise of a party and Tab guessed it would be a late night for the players and their supporters, which accounted for pretty much everyone who lived in Walsh. Many past residents had even returned for the big day. The oval was packed; there wasn’t space for one more ute around its perimeter and the recently refurbished recreation centre was already filling with people trying to be first in line at the bar.

  Ned let go of their hands to weave through the hordes and while Meg hurried after him, Tab chose to hang back. The sweaty stink of all the players was already wafting towards her, making her nauseous.

  ‘Can you believe it?’ Tennille Wellington came up beside her, her usual sunny smile on her face. She was pushing a baby in a pram and wrangling a squirming toddler on her hip—with six kids, she and her husband Boots were halfway to creating a team of their own. ‘They won!’

  Tab tried to summon a smile. ‘It’s fantastic.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Tennille’s forehead scrunched up in concern.

  ‘Yes. Of course. I think I just need something to eat.’

  ‘Come on then.’ Tennille nodded towards the building. ‘Let’s go grab a plate before the kids scoff it all.’

  The club already buzzed with people and Tennille was quickly distracted trying to stop her kids from stealing too much chocolate cake off the long trestle table, heavy-laden with baked goods from the CWA.

  Tab took a moment, leaning back against a wall and trying to catch a few moments of open-eyed sleep while she waited for Lawson, Meg and Ned to make it inside. She’d give her big bro a congratulatory hug and then offer to take Ned home, so he and Meg could make a night of it.

  ‘How’s the form, mucker?’

  The voice of Ethan, their high-spirited but conscientious farm worker, interrupted her vertical nap. In the few years he’d been in their employ, he’d taught Tab a fair share of Irish slang, so she knew ‘mucker’ was actually a term of endearment.

  ‘Did ya see me fine form out there? Not bad play for a boy from Galway.’

  ‘Not bad at all. Guess you and Lawson will be in for a big night.’

  ‘You betcha. Ya seen Kimmy?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She shook her head. Ethan had fallen head over heels for Kimmy, the new vet, when she’d come out to the farm to help with a difficult birth. Luckily the feeling was mutual. Not that Tab would admit it to anyone, but she’d been surprised by their hook-up as she’d suspected Ethan had a thing for her. But he just saw her as a good mate, like every other bloke in town.

  ‘Never mind, she’ll be somewhere round here. Now, what can I get you to drink?’

  ‘I’m right at the moment. You go
find Kimmy.’

  It wasn’t long before the rest of the team poured into the building and Tab offered up congratulations to Funky and a number of other guys she’d grown up with before Lawson accosted her. He swung her round, making both Meg and Ned giggle.

  ‘We did it, sis,’ he said as he hugged her.

  ‘Well done.’ Tab tried not to recoil at the smell of sweat that permeated her brother’s skin. There were showers in the change rooms that the team could avail themselves of, but she guessed that would waste valuable drinking time … and when they had a grand final win to celebrate, time was precious.

  ‘Dad, can I go see my friends?’

  Lawson released Tab and nodded. ‘Sure, mate, but come check in with one of us every half an hour or so.’

  Tab knew that once the food had been devoured, the kids would escape outside and get up to who knows what mischief on the playground next to the oval. With all the excitement going on, it looked unlikely she’d be able to use Ned as an excuse to leave early. He wouldn’t want to go home and miss out on all the action with his little mates. Maybe she could feign a headache.

  ‘Right, I’m getting drinks,’ Lawson exclaimed as Ned disappeared. He looked to Meg. ‘Do you want a lemon lime and bitters?’ When she nodded, he turned to Tab. ‘And what does my other fave lady want? Champers, wine or beer?’

  She hesitated a moment. ‘Bubbles, please.’

  As Lawson headed for the bar, Tab and Meg mingled with the crowd, everyone reliving the high points of the game.

  ‘I can’t believe it was so close.’

  ‘We were four points down,’ said Terrence, a middle-aged farmer who’d been on the team the last time they won. He spoke as if he was the only one who’d seen the game. ‘Then Lawson took a mark just before the siren.’

  ‘He’d never have lived it down if he missed that goal,’ said someone else.

  They all laughed and Meg said, ‘But he made it.’

  ‘He sure did,’ Terrence agreed, raising his beer in the air. ‘And now he’ll go down as a local footy legend.’

  It was a good twenty minutes before said legend returned with the drinks.

  ‘Attention, everyone!’ Coach Macca, also a local councillor, stood on a milk crate in the corner of the room and shouted at the crowd. The din died down and all eyes turned to him as he sang the praises of his team, made individual references to particular players and then raised a toast to the men who’d broken Walsh’s winning drought. ‘To the Wanderers. A bunch of men who train hard, play hard and win! You all deserve a drink. Or ten.’

  The crowd raised their glasses in agreement.

  ‘Why aren’t you drinking?’ Adeline accused Tabitha, as if not doing so was a cardinal sin. Of course the town’s eagle eye wouldn’t miss a thing.

  Tab ignored her, hoping nobody else had heard. But no such luck.

  Funky leaned around Adeline. ‘Yeah, Tabs, why aren’t you toasting our win?’

  ‘I’m driving,’ she replied.

  Adeline snorted. ‘That’s never stopped you before. And I don’t know if you noticed, but Walsh just won the grand final—it would be mean-spirited of you not to toast them.’

  ‘I’m not feeling well,’ she hissed, hating that she felt compelled to say anything. It wasn’t Adeline’s or anyone else’s business what she did or didn’t put into her mouth.

  ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ Adeline laughed as if she’d just made a huge joke.

  Tab waited a second too long to laugh it off and felt her cheeks heat to boiling; no doubt they were now the colour of the Wanderers’ red. ‘I’m …’ She meant to say of course not, but she’d never been a good liar and instead found herself saying, ‘Yes, actually I am.’

  Meg gasped, Adeline’s mouth fell open, Lawson frowned, and all other eyes in their little grouped bulged. Her friends and family were silent from shock a few long moments and Tab’s heart beat so loudly she swore she could hear it.

  This was not how she’d planned on announcing her news. The idea had been to wait until her twelve-week scan in just over a week and then if all was well, tell her family the news first. Beyond that she’d only given brief thought to. Well, that was something she wouldn’t have to worry about anymore. Now Adeline had this bit of juicy gossip, it’d be round the building faster than an epidemic of chicken pox.

  ‘Tabitha.’ Lawson glanced at his near empty glass as if maybe he’d had more to drink than he remembered. ‘Did you just say you’re pregnant?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed. ‘I am. Eleven weeks to be precise. I’m sorry, Law, I was going to tell you guys when I got to twelve weeks. I didn’t want to jinx anything.’

  ‘It’s alright, I just …’ Lawson struggled to finish the sentence.

  ‘We’re surprised, is all,’ Meg continued. ‘But congratulations. Are you happy?’

  Tab felt her shoulders loosening and even the nausea easing a little. ‘Yes.’ She put her untouched champagne glass down on a nearby table and smiled genuinely for the first time that afternoon—she felt better now it was out in the open. ‘I’ve never been happier in my life. I can’t wait to be a mum.’

  ‘Who’s the father?’ Adeline asked the question everyone wanted to know. ‘I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.’

  She probably couldn’t imagine anyone would want to sleep with Tabitha unless they were off their face, and she’d probably be right. Tab had known most of the blokes her age her whole life and they regarded her as just one of the guys, had done even before her cancer. She’d long ago resigned herself to the fact she wasn’t destined to find Mr Right and settle down, but that didn’t stop her craving a baby. And, being a modern, independent, self-sufficient woman, she’d decided to take control of her own destiny.

  ‘Maybe Tabitha would rather not discuss that here,’ Meg said.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ she found herself saying. She’d decided to be completely honest about her baby’s origins, hoping that by the time he or she was old enough to understand, any negative gossip would have passed. She took a quick breath. ‘I don’t know exactly who the father is; I conceived in a clinic using donor sperm.’

  If people had been stunned with the news that she was pregnant, this announcement took their shock to a whole other level. They all stared as if horns had just sprouted from her head.

  Funky was the first to speak. ‘Why didn’t you ask me if you needed sperm? I’d have been happy to have a baby with you.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Ethan nodded, a rare frown creasing his brow. ‘I’d wank in a jar for you any day, Tabs.’

  No one laughed and Kimmy elbowed him in the side.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ Tab said. They almost sounded hurt that she hadn’t asked them, and to be honest, she’d given the possibility a great deal of thought, but in the end, she wanted this to be entirely her baby. Sure, one day when the kid was old enough they could get the name of the donor from the register but Tab hadn’t wanted to complicate the situation by raising a baby that was biologically also part of someone she knew. And she hadn’t wanted her friends to feel obliged. This way she’d avoided any awkward conversations and wouldn’t have to answer to anyone else about decisions regarding her baby.

  ‘I appreciate that, I really do, but it was just easier this way.’

  ‘What happens if you meet someone? You’re still young, and …’ Kimmy smiled mushily at Ethan, ‘you never know when love is just around the corner.’

  Tab almost laughed. It had been ten years since she’d had an actual boyfriend; she was realistic enough to know when to admit defeat. And she’d always wanted to be a mum, but lately the urge had grown stronger. Now that Lawson, Meg and Ned had formed a little family of their own, she sometimes felt a bit excluded and craved a family of her own. ‘Well, if that happens, then whoever the lucky guy is will just have to understand I’m a package deal. At least I won’t have an annoying ex still lingering like many single mums.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Funky said with a chuckle. ‘Remember when
I dated that single mum from Harvey? Her ex tried to run me off the road.’

  ‘Wanker,’ Ethan said. ‘He should have treated her better if he didn’t want anyone else to have her.’

  ‘Anyway.’ Adeline cleared her throat. ‘How much thought did you give this exactly? I’m surprised the doctors allowed someone with your physical disability to attempt such a thing without a partner. How are you going to look after this poor baby with only one arm? How do you plan on changing a nappy? What if you drop it?’

  Tab’s hackles rose. Adeline had always been a pain in the arse, but ever since she’d lost Lawson to Meg (at least that’s how she saw it), she’d been unbearable.

  ‘I’ve probably changed more nappies than you,’ Tab snapped, her blood boiling, even though Adeline was merely voicing what many others were probably thinking.

  But it wasn’t like Tab had made this decision on a whim—the clinic where she’d undergone artificial insemination wouldn’t have allowed it. In accordance with their guidelines, she’d had extensive counselling sessions, including ones about how she would manage parenting with her disability, about the support she’d have and what would happen to her baby if she died. Even without asking, she’d known that Lawson and Meg would step in if that ever happened, just as she would with Ned. She’d even undergone genetic counselling and testing to ensure she wasn’t carrying a faulty gene that might account for her cancer and be passed on to her child. Thankfully, all had come up clear.

  Still, Adeline’s intrusive questions unnerved her. ‘Name one thing you can do that I can’t do better? Go on,’ she demanded.

  Adeline stepped back as if she thought Tab might be about to punch her. ‘I … I …’

  Lawson stepped between the two of them. ‘Shut up, Adeline. No one cares for your opinion. Tab will make a fantastic mum and she’ll have me and Meg for support, just like she’s there for us with Ned. So maybe it’s time you start minding your own business.’