Ferg had never known anyone to talk so much, so quickly, without expecting so much as a word in reply.
‘I won the junior art prize at the show last year,’ Lisl told him.
He looked down at her. ‘I’ll bet you did.’
He barely had time to recover from the whirlwind that was Tennille before another two parents arrived. He tried to focus on the kids, but after a quick hello, they ran off to see their friends.
The parents introduced themselves but their names went in one ear and out the other.
The woman thrust a Tupperware container at him. ‘White chocolate and raspberry muffins,’ she announced. ‘They’re my speciality. You can send the container home with Eli when you’re done.’
‘Thanks.’ Why was it that almost every woman in this town seemed intent on feeding him? And mostly sugary stuff. He’d have diabetes before his contract was up.
‘Have you lived in a small town before?’ asked the bloke.
Ferg shook his head. ‘This is my first.’
The woman chuckled. ‘It takes some getting used to. I’ve lived here twelve years and I’m still not considered a local but I don’t think I could live anywhere else now. No small community is perfect, but Walsh is very welcoming and everyone mucks in and does their bit to keep the community spirit alive.’
The man nodded. ‘I’m with the volunteer firies and we’re always looking for an extra pair of hands if you’re interested. Won’t be long before we’re in the midst of bushfire season again.’
‘You get many fires down here?’ Ferg asked.
‘You’d be surprised. We’ve got a meeting tomorrow night if you want to come along. There’s always a bit of a laugh and a few beers at the end of it.’
‘I’ll see if I can make it,’ he promised, ‘although I’m only here a couple of months and I want to focus on the kids while I am.’
‘Fair enough.’ The man shrugged. ‘But the offer’s open to come along and meet the guys—’
‘And women,’ the woman interrupted.
‘And women,’ he conceded. ‘We have a few of them now. Look, if you’re at a loose end tomorrow night, come say hi. No pressure.’
‘Okay.’ Ferg glanced surreptitiously at his watch. It was one minute past nine—why hadn’t Joanne rung the bell yet? He suddenly remembered she’d said it was his class’s responsibility to ring the bell and that the kids usually took turns.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to the parents, then called, ‘Lisl!’ So far hers was the only name he was a hundred per cent certain of.
‘Yes, Mr McWilliams?’
‘Can you go ring the bell for me?’
Her face lit up with the first genuine smile he’d seen as the other kids all groaned their disappointment. As she grabbed the bell from his desk and rushed outside, Ferg made his apologies to the remaining parents. ‘Nice to meet you both, and thanks for the muffins.’
‘No worries. See you round. Maybe tomorrow night.’ After a quick wave to his daughter, who was ensconced in a board game on the floor with some other students, the man left.
‘Well, I guess I’d better be off too,’ said the woman, leaning a little too close for Ferg’s liking. ‘I hope you like the muffins and …’ She hesitated a moment. ‘We live on the outskirts of town in the old roadhouse; I’m an artist and sadly Eli’s father died a couple of years ago. I know it gets lonely without adult conversation, so if the firies aren’t your thing but you’re bored of an evening or weekend, feel free to drop by our place.’
‘Ah, thanks.’ Ferg couldn’t quite tell if Eli’s mum was just being friendly or hitting on him—he would have assumed the first if Tabitha’s warning wasn’t still fresh in his mind. But either way, even if he was going to be here longer and even if he was looking for a relationship, he didn’t get involved with parents.
At the sound of the bell, the students scrambled to their desks, all apparently eager to please the new teacher. Lisl had just returned to the classroom when one more boy and his dad hurried into the room.
The man nodded and gave a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry Ned’s a little late. We had an issue with our milking machine and he missed the bus.’
Now that was an excuse Ferg had never heard in the city. ‘No worries.’ He grinned at the kid and thrust out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Ned.’
‘You too.’ Ned beamed up at him then went to take a seat.
‘I’m Lawson Cooper-Jones.’ Ned’s dad also offered his hand. ‘Promise we won’t make a habit of this, but my wife and my sister had to go to Bunbury early this morning and I had to fix the problem before organising Ned.’
‘It’s really fine,’ Ferg said, all the while wondering Cooper-Jones? Was that Tabitha’s surname? He’d been hoping to run into her so he could apologise but so far, despite the miniscule size of the town, their paths hadn’t crossed again.
‘I’ve been meaning to stop by your place and say hi, but things have been a little hectic,’ Lawson said as if he could read Ferg’s mind. ‘We’re on the farm next door and actually lease some land off Mrs Lord, so if you ever need anything, just holler! And feel free to pop round for a drink one night.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Anyway.’ Lawson cleared his throat, his friendly smile still filling his face. ‘Hope the first day is a ripper.’
As he left, Ferg shut the door and then turned to all the eager little faces staring back from their desks. ‘Good morning, everyone.’
‘Good morning, Mr McWilliams,’ they chanted like they were in some kind of trance.
‘No, no, no, no, no!’ He held up a hand and shook his head at them. ‘That won’t do at all. I want you guys to sound alive when you greet me. Let’s try it again. This time I want the cows in the next town to hear you.’
Delighted by this challenge, the kids all opened up their lungs and almost burst his eardrums as they gave him a very different good morning. Even Lisl looked like she enjoyed it.
‘That’s better. Now, before we get to know each other, I’m going to read you the first chapter of my very favourite book.’
Although some of the class had already read Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone and many more had seen the movies, no one complained about hearing it again. Once he’d finished, he handed each child a letter, which was a version of the letter to Hogwarts that Harry Potter had received, and watched their eyes widen with glee as he explained that this term their school was going to be Hogwarts. ‘We’re even going to learn to play quiddich!’
There were squeals of excitement at this news and he waited for the noise to die down before he said, ‘But first, I want to get to know you all. We’re going to take it in turns telling each other three facts about ourselves. Who wants to go first?’
Unsurprisingly, Lisl’s hand shot up into the air. She sat up even straighter and cleared her throat as someone five times her age might do. ‘I’m Lisl Diamond. I have a pony called Veronica Jane and we came first in Showjumping and Dressage at the last club trials. I don’t like bananas.’
‘Thanks, Lisl.’ Ferg smothered a smirk. ‘I’ll remember that.’
Jimmy went next, proud as punch to tell the class that his family were Noongar people and had been in this region longer than anyone else in the class’s families. The twins joyfully explained what Adeline had also told him, that their family, the Walshes, had been the first after the Aboriginal people. It seemed about seventy per cent of the kids were from farming families, others had parents who owned locals businesses, some worked for the shire, and then there was Eli’s mum who was an artist.
As the kids spoke, Ferg tried to listen eagerly to each and every one of them but his gaze kept drifting to Ned, scrutinising the poor boy to see if he bore any resemblance to Tabitha. Whereas he had white-blond, slightly wavy hair that brushed the collar of his school polo shirt, Tabitha’s hair was almost jet-black and hung in a short, jagged chin-length bob.
He shook his head—why couldn’t he get her out of his head?
Probably because he’d a
cted like such an arse towards her. It was one thing not wanting to get involved with anyone, but that didn’t mean he had to be rude. The mess that was his life wasn’t Tabitha’s fault and he shouldn’t take his anger out on her just because the perpetrators weren’t around to take it themselves. Not that he wanted them around—they were the sole reason he’d fled the city.
‘Ned? Do you want to go next?’
The blond kid’s eyes widened as he nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’m Ned Cooper-Jones. I live on a dairy farm and my aunty makes the best ice-cream in the world. And she lives in a haunted house!’
‘Wow.’ There was a lot to unpack there but Ferg resisted the urge to ask further questions.
The last few kids took their turns—one was obsessed with Pokémon cards, even though in the city that craze had died years ago; another said she was reading the Guinness Book of Records and wanted to get her name in there one day; and the last told Ferg he was going to be an international soccer star. There was one in every class.
‘Right,’ he clapped his hands together, ‘now we’re going to write holiday recounts.’
‘Hang on,’ Lisl’s hand shot into the air as the others started to stand. ‘You haven’t given us your three things yet?’
‘Ooh yes, we want to know about you,’ said Guinness Book of Records girl.
‘Fair enough.’ He addressed the eager crowd at his feet. ‘Well, number one, I’m actually named after a duck.’
Half the kids burst into giggles and he explained to them who Fergus McDuck was—most of them probably didn’t even know who Donald was.
‘Number two, I play the piano accordion.’ Again, most of the kids obviously had no idea what that was.
‘It’s like a mini piano,’ Lisl explained in that smug tone Fergus wasn’t sure whether to be amused or irritated by, ‘and you carry it in your arms to play. I think it belongs to the wind instrument family. Do you have it with you?’
‘I do.’
‘Can you play it for us?’ begged Milly.
‘Of course, but first our recounts.’
‘But you’ve only given us two things,’ said Victoria.
These country kids were on the ball.
‘Number three, I only like black jelly beans.’
The kids giggled.
‘Do you have a wife?’ Lisl asked.
‘No.’
She nodded and then Ned fired another question. ‘Do you have any pets?’
Geez, these kids were as nosy as their parents. ‘A cat. Her name is Mrs Norris, like the caretaker’s cat in Harry Potter.’
‘You really like Harry Potter, don’t you?’ said Lisl.
‘What’s not to like? Now—’
But before he could get the kids back on track, Victoria interrupted, ‘What about brothers or sisters? I have four, do you have any?’ He hesitated a moment, not wanting to lie to his class but wanting to nip this conversation in the bud. ‘No, I don’t. Now,’ he spoke firmly this time, ‘no further questions until we’ve done some work.’
The rest of the day went well. Ferg had fun with the kids and got used to their constant barrage of questions. He kicked the footy with some of the boys at lunch, read some more Philosopher’s Stone and introduced them to his accordion in the afternoon. He didn’t even realise it was almost home time until parents started lining up outside.
‘Alright, every one, time to go home. See you tomorrow.’ He stood by the door, saying goodbye to each child by name as they filed out the room.
‘Ned!’ He heard someone call and looked up to see two women waving. One had long mahogany-coloured hair halfway down her back and the other one was … Tabitha Cooper-Jones.
Chapter Seven
‘Thanks for coming with me today,’ Tab said as Meg drove them out of Bunbury, pop music from the local radio station softly filling the car.
‘Are you kidding? Thank you for letting me come with you and share this big moment. I still can’t believe you’re having a baby, so actually seeing it on the screen and hearing the heartbeat was magical, yet also made it real.’
‘I know.’ Tab gazed down at the black and white image of her baby. The first time she’d seen him or her on the screen, she’d been eight weeks pregnant and although she’d heard the heartbeat nice and strong, the image on the screen had been more like a jellybean than a person. But today … today she’d cried as she watched her baby wriggle around, its limbs all clearly visible. Meg had assumed they were tears of joy and perhaps some of them were, but she suspected some might have been oh-hell-what-on-earth-have-I-done tears of fear. ‘Am I totally insane? This isn’t like going to see a movie on my own.’
‘What?’ Meg took her eyes off the road and glanced at Tab. ‘No, of course you’re not. And stop saying you’re on your own. You’ve got me, Lawson, hell, a whole town behind you, but even if you didn’t, you could do this with your eyes closed. You, Tabitha Cooper-Jones, are single-handedly—no pun intended—the most capable person I know. This little baby is going to be the luckiest kid on the planet.’
Tab laughed and relaxed a little at Meg’s words. She did want this more than anything, she was just scared that going ahead with it was a selfish decision. ‘And it’s also going to be the best-dressed kid on the planet if you have anything to do with it!’
Meg smiled sheepishly. ‘Hey, I can’t help being excited, and who in their right mind can resist all those tiny clothes?’
‘I have no idea,’ Tab agreed.
After the ultrasound, the two of them had enjoyed a lovely brunch by the beach and then shopped until they’d pillaged practically every store that sold anything baby-related in town. Tab dared not check her bank account. ‘This pregnancy is going to send us both broke, but at least I’ll have plenty of hand-me-downs when you and Lawson have a baby.’
‘If.’ Meg’s one word was filled with sadness.
Tab had assumed her brother and sister-in-law were simply enjoying a few years of married life before they added to their family, but suddenly wondered if that was not the case. ‘Have you guys been trying?’
‘Yep,’ Meg whispered. ‘Almost twelve months.’
‘Oh Meg.’ Tab’s heart squeezed. ‘Why didn’t you say something? Have you seen a doctor about it?’
‘I don’t need to. I know what’s wrong. All my years of drug abuse have affected my fertility. Thank God Lawson already has Ned, but we both would have liked a child together.’
Tab understood that—she couldn’t deny that she herself would have liked an actual present father for her child that was also a partner in all things for her, but life wasn’t perfect. Meg and Lawson had the great love affair, she was going to have a baby—no one ever got it all. ‘Have you guys considered IVF?’
‘We’ve just started talking about it, but … never mind.’ Meg sniffed and shook her head. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to take away from your excitement.’ She reached across, turned up the radio and started bopping in her seat. ‘I love this song!’
Tab didn’t know it—she rarely listened to the radio as more often than not, one of her ex-boyfriend’s songs would come on and although she would never admit it, she couldn’t bear listening to his lyrics about true love. It was almost a decade since they’d broken up but she thought about him far too often. She even dreamt about him, and although the dreams were wonderful, she always woke up irritated at herself. People say you never get over your first love and maybe that was the problem, or maybe it was that the world wouldn’t let her forget. Ryder’s handsome face often appeared on the cover of the glossy magazines that sat at the front of the checkouts at IGA and, as his extended family were locals, people tended to keep her up to date, however much she tried to shut down such conversations.
Perhaps if she’d had other boyfriends he wouldn’t be the only one to occupy her thoughts, but he was the first and only notch on her bedpost.
The current song faded away and a chirpy sounding woman came onto the airwaves to read the two o’clock news, which consisted o
f a shark sighting off the coast of Augusta, a school bus that had crashed on the freeway—thankfully, no fatalities—and then, just before a weather update, she mentioned Ryder O’Connell. Tab’s heart slammed into her chest and Meg rushed to change the station, but Tab stopped her. If there was news about Ryder getting engaged or anything like that, she wanted to hear it. It was best to be prepared for the inevitable gossip and questions people would throw at her.
But it wasn’t a warm-fuzzy announcement.
‘The ARIA Award winner, former golden boy from the west, has been fighting rumours of wild partying ways, and it seems there may be some truth to this gossip. Sydney police arrested the country music singer last night and have charged him with drink driving after being caught at more than double the legal limit. He allegedly tried to evade a police random breath test by doing a U-turn and was eventually caught and taken into custody. O’Connell himself is yet to comment on the charge.’
‘Holy shit.’ Ever since dumping her and soaring to success in a solo career, it had been one triumph after another. Tab reckoned he probably thought himself invincible and immune to the law, and, although not proud of it, couldn’t help the little kick of delight inside her at this news.
‘Well,’ Meg said, ‘that’ll damage his reputation a bit. All those mums won’t be quite so happy about their kids looking up to him and idolising him now.’ Then she coloured slightly. ‘Not that I can talk. And who knows, maybe something bad happened that upset him and this was a one-off?’
Tab nodded; Meg was probably right and really, it had nothing to do with her anymore anyway. Another song began and their conversation turned to the upcoming show and how much extra ice-cream they were going to have to make. Tab’s business had started from the farm and she used to go to all the local shows selling her gourmet delights, but since they’d opened the tea rooms, most of her business had been done there. She didn’t have time for traipsing about anymore, but they were making an exception for the Walsh Ag Show, as everyone had begged her to be there.
‘Do you mind if we stop by the school and collect Ned?’ Meg asked as they slowed on the outskirts of Walsh. ‘It’s quite hot and he’ll get home quicker than if he has to take the bus. It feels cruel to subject him to that when we’re in town anyway.’
Something to Talk About (Rose Hill, #2) Page 6
