Why? He didn’t know. Even if he were looking for a relationship, it would never be with someone pregnant with someone else’s child. If his childhood had taught him anything, it was that loving a child who wasn’t your own was pretty much impossible. Sure, you could take care of them—as many of his foster parents had—but love was something else entirely. And children needed love. If it hadn’t been for his sister growing up, he may not have known the meaning of it.
‘Do many people stay here?’ he asked, not wanting to dwell on the past.
‘It’s becoming quite popular actually—the quiet and the historic buildings attract people, I guess. They like the idea of staying in a ghost town, and we’re not too far from Bunbury.’
‘Ned mentioned there’s actually a ghost here?’ Ferg tried not to show his scepticism.
‘Oh yes.’ Meg gestured to an empty table by the window. ‘Eliza. She’s been here a long time—the tea rooms were actually her idea and she’s happy as long as we run any new ideas by her. That’s her table over there.’
‘Is anyone allowed to sit with her?’
‘I often sit down for a chat. And Tab sometimes will. Eliza’s hit and miss with the customers, but if someone sits there and spills their drink or breaks a glass, we know to keep an eye on them.’
Ferg was happy he hadn’t chosen that table—knowing his luck, he’d have spilt his drink and broken something, not that he actually believed in ghosts. ‘Fascinating.’
‘You should hear her whole story.’
He waited, hoping Meg might tell him, but she changed the subject.
‘Anyway, Ned’s enjoyed his first week at school. Hope you’ve been settling in well.’
‘Thank you. I have.’
‘Great.’ She nodded. ‘Enjoy.’ And she hurried back to the kitchen, no doubt to warn Tabitha what a weirdo he was.
He sighed and picked up a delicate chicken salad sandwich, reminding himself it didn’t matter what people thought of him. He hadn’t moved here to make connections, he’d moved here to sever them.
Chapter Ten
Tab yawned as she emerged from the local hospital’s A&E on Monday afternoon. To say the last few hours had been exhausting would be a gross understatement. So much for a relaxing day off. She’d just sat down on the couch to binge the next few episodes of the Netflix series she was watching when her phone buzzed with a call from Triple Zero.
There’d been a head-on collision on the highway two kilometres out of Walsh, both cars carrying multiple passengers. The last thing Tab had felt like doing was throwing on her green St Johns’ uniform and wading into the carnage, but they were short on volunteers at the moment and she wouldn’t be able to relax knowing others were under the pump. With her little arm, she was only trained as a lowest level volunteer and mostly just drove the van to allow the more qualified people to focus on first aid, but with so many casualties today she’d been forced to do what she could.
‘You coming to the pub for a drink?’ asked Boots, one of the other volunteers.
They’d lost two kids and one adult today, two families shattered because one man had made an error of judgement when overtaking a road-train. The hospital had been crazy; their two ambulances had to go back and forth from the crash site, delivering patients and then bodies. They’d had to take a couple of the critical but stable passengers out to the airstrip to wait for the Flying Doctors, and, because the two nurses on duty, the local doctor and the few other hospital staff were busy with the emergency, Tab and a couple of the other volunteers had sat with the two surviving kids, who had already lost their father and still might lose their mother. Although they didn’t have the same level of training as the city paramedics, she’d seen some pretty horrific things in her time as a volley—drug overdoses, suicides, anaphylactic shocks, even a crop-duster crash—but it never got any easier to lose a patient, and the terror and heartbreak of those poor kids would forever be imprinted in her mind. She’d never felt more in need of a drink.
‘Nah, thanks, but I think I’ll go see Gran and then head home for an early night.’
‘No worries.’ Boots gave her a quick hug. ‘Do you want one of us to grab your van from the sub-centre and bring it here when we drop the ambulances back?’
‘It’s okay. I can walk.’ It wasn’t far and the fresh air would do her good.
As Tab’s fellow volunteers went one way, she headed in the other direction towards the aged-care arm of the hospital. Unlike most city facilities, Walsh’s nursing home was directly attached to their hospital and staffed by the same nurses. Today things were a bit crazy, but the small nature of the facility meant usually the nurses could spend quality time with the six elderly residents who they treated more like family than patients. Tab hated that her grandmother needed to be in a home, but it was comforting to know that this one was a lot better than most.
‘Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.’ Although her words were slightly slurred, Gran’s face lit up when Tab entered her bedroom.
‘Hello, Granny.’ She leaned down and kissed her cheek. Usually at this time of the day, the eighty-four-year-old would be sitting in the communal living area watching TV, but as she had severe Parkinson’s, she required the assistance of a nurse or orderly to get there.
‘Have you been on a callout?’ Gran said, lifting a shaky hand to indicate Tab’s uniform.
She nodded. ‘Terrible, terrible car accident.’
‘I thought something was going on. Kelly just brought afternoon tea to my room; I haven’t seen the nurses since lunchtime. Are you okay? You need to look after that great-grandbaby of mine.’
Tab perched on the edge of her recliner and squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll be fine. I’m just knackered. Can I get you anything? Do you want me to help you out into the living room?’
‘Thank you, that would be lovely.’
She pretty much lifted her gran to her feet and into her wheelchair, and then helped her to the toilet. When they emerged into the communal living area ten minutes later, the only male resident looked up from where he sat at the kitchen table, a knife and fork clutched tightly in each hand.
‘What in heaven’s name is going on around here?’ Len muttered, glaring at them. ‘Where’s my dinner?’
Tab and Gran exchanged a bemused look. Gran still had her full wits about her, but some of the other patients who were stronger physically were fading mentally. Len Walker, once a local dairy farmer, could no longer read the time on the gold watch that had been in his family for generations, but his stomach was almost as good for keeping the time.
‘I’m sure it’ll be here soon,’ Tab said, securing her grandmother’s wheelchair and wondering if she should offer Len some biscuits or something to tide him over.
Before she could, Kelly the cook bustled down the corridor with a trolley full of food.
‘About bloody time,’ said Len.
Things were obviously still crazy if Kelly was hand-delivering the meals. Usually that was an orderly’s job and they and the nurses would sit down and feed the patients who needed assistance.
‘Do you want me to help gather everyone?’ Tab asked.
‘Oh, would you mind?’ Kelly sounded as flustered as she looked. ‘Everyone else is still dealing with the car accident.’
‘No worries.’
Tab had barely stepped inside Penelope Walsh’s room when she heard Kelly shout from the room next door. They met each other in the corridor and spoke at once.
‘What is it?’
‘Have you seen Mrs Lord? She isn’t in her room!’
‘I haven’t. I went straight to see Gran. But maybe she’s outside?’ Tabitha said, trying to calm the other woman.
Kelly shook her head frantically. ‘The doors to the courtyard are locked when we’re not around.’
She pushed past Tabitha and the two of them quickly searched the rest of the facility, including the courtyard just in case, but Mrs Lord was nowhere to be found.
‘I’m going to have to
tell Donna,’ Kelly said, her complexion pale as she referred to the nurse in charge.
Tab nodded. ‘You do that. I’ll get the others to the table and start giving them their dinner.’ That was probably against code, but this wasn’t the city; country folk did what needed to be done, and right now the most important thing was finding dear Mrs Lord.
Tabitha had always liked her elderly neighbour, who’d been a member of Stitch’n’Bitch until a couple of years ago when it became clear she’d misplaced her marbles. When her mum died, Mrs Lord would pop around every couple of days with a big delivery of cookies and cakes for Dad’s smoko and her and Lawson’s school lunches. Whenever Tab came to visit Gran, she made a point of going and sitting a few minutes with Mrs Lord as well. The old woman never showed any recognition, which was probably a blessing because being in residential care would be so depressing if you didn’t have visits from family and friends to look forward to.
Tab had just finished delivering Penelope Walsh to the table when Donna came running down the corridor with Kelly. ‘And you’re sure you’ve looked everywhere?’
‘Yes.’ Kelly was almost sobbing by now.
‘I don’t know how she could have got out. We’re going to have to call the police,’ Donna said tersely as if they were referring to an escaped jailbird.
Within half an hour, the hospital was swarming with local cops, fire and ambulance volunteers, and others who’d heard about Mrs Lord’s disappearance and were ready and willing to join the search. It always happened like this. They could go days, sometimes weeks, without an emergency and then one came after another with barely time to catch their breath between.
‘Vera can’t have got too far,’ Sergeant Skinner said, his expression grave, ‘so we’re going to focus our search on the couple of kilometres surrounding the hospital. She could have been missing up to five hours, so it’s likely she’s very disorientated and possibly dehydrated by now.’
‘Do you think she could be trying to get home?’ asked Funky, dressed in the local volunteer firefighter uniform. Lawson, having left the evening milking to Meg and Ethan, stood between him and Tab.
Sergeant Skinner looked to Donna.
‘It’s possible that’s where she had in mind when she left—if she actually had anywhere in mind—but that’s what?’ Donna looked to Tab and Lawson. ‘Twelve Ks out of town?’
‘About ten,’ Lawson replied. ‘The Lord’s farm is a little closer than ours.’
‘Do we even know she left here on her own?’ asked Boots.
Again, the sergeant and Donna exchanged anxious looks. ‘The hospital security camera that covers the exit appears to have stopped working recently, but we hadn’t noticed. We’ve been so under the pump.’
‘It’s alright,’ Sergeant said. ‘It is unfortunate, but right now, we have no reason to believe there’s anything sinister behind Vera’s disappearance and our priority has to be on finding her, not coming up with possible conspiracy theories. I’ve put out a description with the state police and a media release, so people will be looking for her further out as well. Right now, we need to get searching before it gets too dark.’
Tab glanced out the window—they’d almost missed that boat—and her heart squeezed with anxiety as she thought about poor Mrs Lord. Wherever she was, she had to be confused at best; the worst wasn’t worth thinking about.
The sergeant started explaining the plan of attack and allocating the search volunteers to specific areas of town.
‘Shouldn’t someone at least check her old place?’ suggested Kelly. ‘Maybe someone gave her a lift?’
The sergeant nodded. ‘The new teacher is living there now, so I’ll need a volunteer to go and bring him up to speed. I’ll be sending a group of you out to search her farm as well. Lawson and Tabitha, are you still leasing that land?’
They nodded in unison.
‘Good. You probably know the area better than anyone, so do you guys want to lead up that search team? And pop in to the teacher and let him know what’s going on.’
Tab’s hackles rose at the mention of Fergus McWilliams but she wasn’t going to let her personal gripe with him stop her searching for Mrs Lord.
A few more instructions from the sergeant and the groups were on their way. Lawson dropped Tab off at the sub-centre to collect her van, while Funky and his younger sister Carrie went ahead to talk to Fergus. Dodged a bullet there, she thought as she climbed into her van and followed Lawson out to Mrs Lord’s place.
Although still physically exhausted, worry for their elderly neighbour and adrenaline at the situation had revived her mentally. Before she started her car, she crammed a muesli bar she had in her bag into her mouth and drank almost a whole bottle of water, so that by the time she parked her van alongside Lawson’s and Funky’s utes, she was ready to go. She threw her torch into a backpack with her phone and another bottle of water, then went to meet the others who were gathered on Fergus’s porch, talking to the man himself.
‘Hi Tabitha.’ He inclined his head slightly as she joined them, but she ignored him.
‘We’ve searched the house,’ Carrie said. ‘She’s definitely not there and Fergus said he hasn’t seen any sign of her.’
Lawson nodded. ‘Let’s check the buildings, paddocks and dams, just in case.’
‘Fergus has offered to help too,’ Funky said, giving him a warm smile.
‘Great.’
That was not the word that initially came into Tab’s head, but she guessed the more eyes, the better. ‘What are we waiting for?’
‘Let’s split into two groups,’ Lawson said. ‘Tab and I will take one each since we know the area best.’
‘Why don’t you take Fergus with you and I’ll take Funky and Carrie,’ Tab suggested, in a tone that told her brother there’d be no arguments.
‘Can I go with Lawson instead?’
Tab did not miss the way Carrie’s gaze flickered to Fergus. At twenty-three, she’d just moved back to live with her folks after breaking up with her city boyfriend—she’d been heartbroken according to Funky, but it looked as if she might be ready to move on now.
‘Whatever,’ Tab said, ignoring the irritation that sparked inside her. ‘Let’s just go.’
Leaving the others still working out logistics, she strode off in the direction of the milking sheds, no longer in use because she and Lawson leased this land for their crop and did all their milking on their own farm.
Funky jogged to catch up with her. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘Um … Mrs Lord is missing,’ she snapped.
‘I know. Sorry. It was just a figure of speech.’
Suitably chastised, Funky was uncharacteristically quiet as they looked in every nook and cranny in the sheds and then did a wide sweep of the paddocks on their side of the designated search. Two hours later it was pitch black and all Tab had to show for their efforts were blisters on her toes and mosquito bites. They’d touched base on the radio with Lawson a couple of times, but they hadn’t found anything and there’d been no reports of good news from town either.
‘Where the hell could she be?’ Tab was close to tears when they returned to the house just before nine o’clock. ‘Do you think they should get divers out to the dams?’
Lawson shook his head. ‘We checked around all of them. There’s no sign of any human activity at all. It was a long shot anyway. She’s got to be closer to town.’
‘So why haven’t they found her? She can’t have just vanished.’
Funky squeezed her arm. ‘Hopefully she’s found a quiet place and fallen asleep or something.’
But the grim expressions on all of their faces said none of them had high hopes of this.
‘Would anyone like something to eat?’ Fergus asked. ‘I don’t have anything fancy, but I could whip up some toasted sandwiches?’
‘Oh, that would be lovely. I’m starving,’ Carrie exclaimed, reaching out to briefly touch his arm.
Lawson tossed his ute keys in his hand. ‘Thanks
for the offer, but I think I’ll head back into town and see if I can be of use there.’
‘Me too,’ Tab and Funky spoke at once.
Lawson frowned at her. ‘You should go home to bed. You look exhausted, and the last thing Mrs Lord would want is you sacrificing you or your baby’s health to look for her. There are plenty of people on the ground. We’ll find her.’
Tab wanted to argue—she’d never been good at resting on her laurels when there was an emergency—but her eyelids felt ridiculously heavy. She was struggling to keep them open and wasn’t sure she’d even manage the drive to Rose Hill.
‘Okay,’ she relented, ‘but call me the minute you hear anything, and do you mind if I stay at your place tonight? That way if you’re still looking in the morning, or have a really late night, I can help Meg and Ethan with the milking.’
‘Of course you can stay but you don’t have lift a finger. You’re allowed a sleep-in every once in a while as well, you know?’
‘I know.’ Tab gave Lawson a hug goodnight, but only because she wanted him to stop worrying about her and concentrate on finding Mrs Lord.
‘If the search is still going,’ Fergus began as Tab turned to head to her van, ‘I’m happy to come in and help too.’
‘Don’t you have to work tomorrow?’ she heard Funky ask. ‘How the hell will you face a class of kids with next to no sleep?’
Tab slowed a little to hear Fergus’s chuckled reply. ‘I can survive on coffee for a day.’
‘In that case, that’d be great,’ Lawson said. ‘The more hands on deck, the better.’
‘I’ll drive with you into town,’ Carrie offered. ‘The roads round here can be a little disorientating in the dark.’
Tab snorted as she opened her van—if Fergus had half a brain and a GPS he wouldn’t need Carrie’s help. Not with the roads anyway.
Chapter Eleven
Seven o’clock Tuesday morning, Ferg’s phone buzzed on his bedside table. Not ready to face the day when he’d only had a few hours’ sleep, he flung his arm out to silence the alarm. Only a few seconds after the ear-piercing beeping had stopped and he was blinking himself awake, did the peculiarity of the situation strike him.
Something to Talk About (Rose Hill, #2) Page 9
