Talk of the Town

by Rachael Johns

  She winked at him as the door clunked shut behind her. ‘Fancy running into you twice in one day. How lucky.’

  Wasn’t the word he’d use. But Adeline’s great-grandmother Penelope was also a resident, so she had as much right to be there as he did.

  ‘Fancy that,’ he said, forcing a smile.

  She flitted across the courtyard and perched herself on the armrest of old Pen’s chair. ‘Hello, grandmother darling. I’ve brought you some photos of my puppies.’

  Adeline conjured an iPad with a sparkly pink cover out of her handbag and angled it so her grandmother could see as she swiped her fingers across the screen. Penelope stared at the photos, her eyes agog, but she didn’t say anything. Poor thing had suffered a stroke on the farm about a year earlier, two days after her hundredth birthday. Lawson wondered what she must make of today’s technology.

  One of the nurses arrived and stood on the other side of Penelope’s chair, oohing and aahing over the photos.

  ‘Oh my Lord, Adeline, they’re too cute for words.’

  ‘I know, right.’ She grinned as if the compliment were on her appearance, but maybe that wasn’t fair. He was in a shit of a mood this morning.

  Len, the only man among the residents, piped up from over in his corner. ‘Lemme see the puppies,’ he demanded gruffly.

  ‘Of course.’ Adeline leaped up and took the iPad over to Len. All the old dears wanted a looksee and Adeline patiently took the iPad around to each of them, commentating on the temperaments of the pups as she swiped through the photos. Lawson looked over his gran’s shoulder and had to admit Adeline’s baby Maremma sheepdogs were adorable.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get Lawson to take one for Ned,’ Adeline said, smiling in a conspiring manner at Gran.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t deny they’re cute but even if I were in the market for another work dog, Maremmas are watch dogs, not herders.’

  ‘Perhaps, but you could always train them to keep an eye on the cows.’

  He folded his arms across his chest, wishing she’d go back to Penelope and leave him alone with his gran. ‘Strangely we don’t have much of a problem with predators where the cows are concerned.’

  ‘They make great family pets as well,’ she countered. ‘Ned would love it and I could come over and help him train it so it would be no hassle for you. I have dogs and bitches available, he can take his pick. What do you say?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ he finally conceded, having no intention whatsoever of doing so.

  ‘Adeline,’ called the nurse, ‘do you mind holding the door open for me while I take Penelope back inside? I think she’d like to watch a little TV.’

  ‘She’s a firecracker, that one,’ muttered Gran with a shake of his head as Adeline and the nurse pushed her great-grandmother back inside. ‘Penelope was a good few years older than me but from what I’ve heard she was exactly the same. Now, where were we? Any local gossip I should know about?’

  ‘My guess is that you’re more likely to be privy to that kind of thing in here than I am.’ But once again, his mind drifted to Meg. ‘Although when Ned and I were driving home from Albany the other day we got a flat tyre in Rose Hill and met someone.’

  ‘You met someone in Rose Hill?’

  He nodded. ‘A young woman has moved into the old general store.’

  ‘Well, I never. What on earth would she want to do that for? I haven’t been out that way in years but unless it’s undergone some miraculous revival I thought only ghosts lived there these days.’

  ‘And the caretaker,’ Lawson reminded her.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Gran mused. ‘Apparently a bit of a recluse, but I guess you’d have to be to live in a place like that. I wonder what your girl’s story is and I do hope she’s okay out there all alone. Maybe she should get herself one of Adeline’s puppies.’

  His mind hung up on the way Gran had called Meg his girl, it took a second for Lawson to register what she’d said but when he did it felt like she’d given him a Nobel Prize–winning idea.

  ‘Gran, you are a genius.’ He leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Pure genius.’ A puppy would give him a reason to go out to Rose Hill and check on Meg. And afterwards, knowing she had the company of a dog with the protective nature of a Maremma, he could stop worrying about a woman he’d only met once.

  Gran laughed half-heartedly as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘I’d better be off now,’ he said. ‘If I don’t get home soon, Tab and Ethan will be whingeing that I’m not pulling my weight.’

  Gran smiled. ‘We couldn’t have that. You give that girl a hug for me. I love you both.’

  ‘And we love you too. I’m sure Tab will be in some time this week. See ya soon.’

  After a quick kiss on her cheek, he went inside to the lounge area where the residents spent much of their time watching daytime television. To his relief, Adeline was still there, brushing her grandmother’s long grey hair.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Adeline, can I talk to you a moment?’

  She sprang up from the seat she’d been perched on, dropped the brush in Penelope’s lap and beamed at him. ‘Have you reconsidered that offer to take me out to lunch?’

  ‘Uh, no. But I have reconsidered your offer to take one of the puppies,’ he said, before she could harp on about the lunch thing.

  ‘Ooh, seriously?’ Adeline clapped her hands together.

  ‘Yes. When will they be ready to leave their mum?’

  ‘They’re ready right now. You can come out and choose one whenever you want. Today even.’

  He shook his head. ‘I need time to get a few things organised. How about Wednesday?’

  ‘Wednesday is perfect. And if you need any help working out what you need before then, just give me a call. Ned is going to be beside himself!’

  Lawson smiled and then dipped his head to say ‘goodbye’, but he didn’t bother to set her straight.

  Chapter Five

  Another day, another delivery of eggs on her doorstep. Megan chuckled as she stooped to collect them. She hadn’t seen Archie since the chicken episode but everyday following she’d woken up to anything from five to ten eggs on her doorstep. There were only so many eggs a girl could eat, so every evening she’d walked along to the old servo and deposited a box full of home-baked goodies for him—everything from cakes, biscuits and slices to a quiche that he could eat hot or cold for lunch or dinner.

  They hadn’t exchanged words or even seen each other during these transactions, but it was strangely comforting knowing he wasn’t far away. She had faith that the barking of his dog would alert Archie to her delivery and usually when she was halfway back to her place she heard the unlatching of the gate and smiled, safe in the knowledge that her endless baking was going to a good home.

  Her fridge, freezer and pantry were full to bursting as the joy of being able to cook whenever and whatever the hell she wanted hadn’t yet lost its gloss. As much as she could, she made use of the eggs Archie delivered and fresh fruit from the trees out the back, but her supplies of flour, sugar, butter, milk and the like were dwindling fast. The time had almost come when she’d have to venture further afield to restock and her blood pressure rose just thinking about it.

  Rose Hill and this house were her safe haven. Every trip to civilisation carried a risk. Although she was about as far from Melbourne as you could get without leaving the country or travelling to the remote north, and she’d dyed her hair darker and cut herself a thick fringe, there was still the fear that someone might recognise her, that she’d never be able to escape her past. A shiver snaked down her spine as she carried the eggs back inside and went to the fridge to see if she could find a spot to put them in. She might need milk and fresh veggies, but perhaps she could go another couple of days surviving on cake and cookies. We might not be able live on bread alone, but cake, on the other hand …

  Chuckling to herself at this thought, Megan flicked the kettle on for her mor
ning coffee and poached herself a couple of eggs for breakfast. After eating, she looked down at her list of tasks that needed to be done and decided to tackle the polishing of the old staircase. It had been beautifully crafted in an era where nothing was rushed, but years of wear and tear had tarnished its original charm.

  She took cloths and wood polish and got to work. Despite the temperature already heating up, the area surrounding the stairs was strangely cool, and this wasn’t the first time she’d noticed. She suspected a draft sneaking in through a gap in the floorboards but hadn’t been able to determine exactly where it was coming from.

  She put this from her mind and before long began to work up a sweat. Each step took longer than she’d anticipated but the results gave her a sense of accomplishment she hadn’t felt in a long while. Time passed quickly. Her imagination ran away with her as she fantasised about what it would have been like to grow up in this house—to have the forest practically in her backyard and not have the worry of traffic when she and her brother played out on the street. Somehow, she believed, if this had been her family’s home, they would all still be living happily.

  Lost in her thoughts, with the radio in the background, she almost leaped out of her skin at the sound of a heavy knock on the front door. She peered slowly over the stair railing towards the two glass doors at the front. They were so dirty you couldn’t see through them, but she hadn’t cleaned them because she didn’t want anyone looking in. At the sight of a tall silhouette on the other side, she bit her lip so hard it almost bled.

  Maybe dirt wasn’t enough. Maybe she needed to hang curtains on the door like the old ragged ones on the windows.

  Another knock sounded and then a bark. Her shoulders slumped at the realisation her visitor must be Archie, but she still deliberated about opening the door. Exchanging food was one thing but getting to know each other was quite something else. Then again, what if he were in trouble? She pushed herself off the steps, leaving the polish and cloth where they were, and wiped her hands on her shorts as she went to open the door.

  She gasped at the sight of Lawson Cooper-Jones, her visitor from the previous week, standing on her front porch. And, as if he hadn’t been appealing enough on his own, in his arms he carried the cutest bundle of puppy she’d ever laid eyes on.

  She couldn’t help herself. ‘Oh my,’ she said, reaching out and stroking the top of said puppy’s head. ‘She’s adorable.’

  He grinned back at her and something inside her twisted and made her blush. ‘She’s a he and he’s all yours, if you want him.’

  Her brain, which had frozen when hit with such cuteness, clicked back into gear. Had she heard right? He’d brought her a puppy? Why?

  Her chest squeezing, she stepped back a little, her defences shooting up around her. ‘What? But he looks like a purebred. He must have cost a fortune. I can’t accept such a gift.’

  Lawson cocked his head to one side as the puppy wriggled in his arms. ‘Do you like dogs?’

  She swallowed. ‘Of course.’ He’d see right through her if she tried to lie. Who wouldn’t melt and fall in love at first sight with such a thing?

  ‘Is there any reason you can’t have one?’ he asked. ‘Are you allergic?’

  She bit her lip and shook her head. Hadn’t she thought about getting a pet these last few days? The brief company of Archie’s chicken had brought her more joy than she’d thought possible. Talking to an animal seemed more acceptable than talking to oneself and she hadn’t had a pet since the fire. Her eyeballs prickled at the thought and she pushed it aside to focus on the puppy. This dog would be good company and a fabulous running companion, but what was Lawson’s ulterior motive?

  ‘Good. Then he’s all yours.’ His smile widened and it felt so genuine she couldn’t help but relax a little. She might not have the best record as being a good judge of character, but something told her Lawson didn’t have a duplicitous bone in his body. ‘I got mates rates for her. A friend of mine breeds them and has been after me to take one forever, so you’d really be doing me a favour. Not that you owe me a favour or anything, but …’

  His eyes when he grinned were almost as adorable as the puppy’s big, brown soulful ones. How could she resist either of them?

  ‘What breed is he?’ she asked, reaching out and touching the pup’s head.

  ‘A Maremma.’ As he replied, Lawson thrust the dog towards her and she was helpless but to open her arms and accept this very precious gift. ‘They’re Italian sheepdogs, but have become better known recently in Australia since the movie Oddball. Have you seen it?’

  She shook her head as the puppy lifted its head and licked her face.

  Lawson laughed and she didn’t think she’d ever heard such a beautiful sound. ‘You should watch it. It’s supposed to be a kid’s movie but it’s a cracker. I saw it with Ned at the cinema and then we had to get it on DVD. I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s watched it. It’s based on a true story about a dog who saved the penguins on an island from foxes.’

  ‘It sounds cute,’ she said, unable to help laughing as this little Maremma slobbered all over her.

  ‘So you’ll take him?’ Before she could give Lawson an answer, he continued, ‘Look, it may sound crazy, but I can’t rest at night knowing you’re out here, so isolated and all alone. Knowing you have this little guy around will help me get my beauty sleep.’

  She let out a most unladylike sounding noise—a half snort, half laugh. As if Lawson Cooper-Jones needed beauty sleep! But it was the way he voiced his concern that both squeezed and melted her insides. It had been so long since anyone gave a damn about her that she had to swallow the emotion in her throat and blink back tears.

  ‘How old is he?’ she managed, holding the dog close and knowing she couldn’t give him back even if she wanted to. She was a lost cause.

  ‘Ten weeks. And fully toilet trained, according to my friend, Adeline. What are you going to call him?’

  ‘I have no idea. Also, I haven’t got anything for him. I’ll need to get a bed, food, a leash, some toys … What else do puppies need?’

  ‘I’ve got all that in the back of my ute. I’ll be back in a sec.’ And with that he turned and jogged back to the dirty utility parked on the road directly in front of her house.

  Megan caught herself staring and averted her gaze from his arse. ‘What do you want to be called?’ she asked, turning her attention to the dog. It was safer to admire the cuteness of the canine than appreciate the sexiness of the man.

  In answer to her question the dog licked her face and squirmed more in her arms. ‘I should call you Slobber,’ she said, tightening her grip. She dared another glance towards the road and saw Lawson returning with a massive bag of dog food in one arm and a bulging plastic bag in the other. ‘Do you need any help?’ she called.

  He shook his head as he arrived beside her. ‘Where shall I put all this stuff? I’ve got a bed for him on the back of the ute as well.’

  Megan opened her mouth to tell him he could dump it all down where he was standing, but realised just in time how weird that would sound. The man had just given her a puppy, for goodness’ sake: it would be rude not invite him inside.

  ‘Um …’ She glanced behind her into the house.

  It wasn’t that she was scared of Lawson—after years of hanging out with undesirable types, it was easy to tell that this man could never be classified as such a thing—but her stomach turned over at the thought of bringing anyone into her private space. Closing the door would make them truly alone and she wasn’t sure how to act around him. Around anyone.

  You’re being ridiculous. You can do this!

  She could have a normal conversation without having a panic attack, couldn’t she?

  ‘I guess we can put everything on the kitchen table for now,’ she said eventually.

  He nodded. ‘Righto. Lead the way.’

  Megan forced her feet to step aside as she let him into the house. As Lawson marched inside like he’d been her
e a hundred times, she hesitated a moment about closing the door. What if he saw a clue as to who she was? She had no idea what, but then again, since when had fear or panic been logical?

  Clinging to the dog like a child clutching its beloved teddy bear, she managed to close the door and then led Lawson into the kitchen.

  He smiled at her as he dumped all the dog things onto the table. ‘Last time I came in here, I was a little kid. We stopped to get an ice-cream, and it looked totally different. It closed not long after and I’ve been having a hard time imagining how you could live in the old general store but it looks as if you’ve been busy making it a home.’

  She shrugged and slowly lowered the pup onto the ground, secretly pleased that he liked her house, secretly pleased he’d been thinking about her at all. ‘It was already converted into a living space by the previous owners. I just cleaned it up a bit.’

  He chuckled and gestured to the dog that was now tearing around the room like a headless chicken. ‘And I’ve gone and brought you a hurricane to mess it all up again. You’ll probably be cursing me by the end of the day.’

  She tried to laugh but feared it didn’t come out quite that way. ‘He’s gorgeous, thank you,’ she rushed. ‘Are you sure I can’t give you any money for him?’

  ‘Definitely not.’ He shook his head and leaned back against the kitchen counter casually, making himself at home. For one split second she imagined that he was at home, that he was her guy and being there together was as natural as breathing. And then reality landed, reminding her of the unlikeliness of such a situation.

  She rubbed her lips together, swallowed and racked her mind for something to say. Finally, she settled on, ‘Hurricane. That’s what I’ll call him. Maybe Cane for short.’

  ‘I love it.’ He nodded his approval and then they both just stood there a moment looking at each other.

  Feeling her cheeks heat again at the intensity of his gaze, Megan turned her attentions to Hurricane, who was still tearing round the kitchen, sniffing at everything. ‘I wonder how long till he wears himself out?’