‘Yeah.’
‘Didn’t want you to lose any of those pregnant ewes.’
‘They’re fine.’
‘She’s tied up a lot of money in that done venture.’
‘It’s pronounced doo-nee.’
‘Whatever. I wouldn’t want to see her get her fingers burnt, is all.’
Coop knew the veiled reproach was aimed at him. Last year he’d encouraged Alice to buy a Dohne ram to mate with a mob of her Merino ewes. The last property he’d worked on had stocked them with good success in similar country. Now the ewes were nearly ready to drop their lambs. Alice had made a joke of the name, saying some people in the traditional Merino-producing district would call her a ‘loonie doonee’ for trying something different.
‘The sheep are okay and the fence is good,’ he said and began to move away.
‘I’m interested to see how this crossbreed turns out. You know Skitch and I can always lend a hand. You don’t have to do everything on your own.’
Coop stopped and faced Barry. The older man had a rough complexion from years of outside work. With his hat off, the balding top of his head was exposed, and there were pockmarks in his skin and deep wrinkles around his cheerless eyes. Like his wife, Barry rarely looked happy.
‘Thanks, but it’s my job. I know where you are if I need you.’
‘Keep a good eye on the place. There’s been talk of stuff disappearing from properties not that far from here.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Household stuff mainly. Bloke further west came home from a beach holiday to find some furniture missing. Someone was checking his stock but they hadn’t been into his house, see.’
‘Thanks for letting me know.’
Coop moved away to the dining room. He’d planned to eat his meal in the front bar but didn’t feel like making any more conversation with Barry. Alice always called the man ‘Hanrahan’, the doom and gloom expert, after the bush poem. Coop hadn’t heard any talk of local theft, and he didn’t think Alice had much to attract house thieves. Apart from the new computer she’d begrudgingly bought after her last trip to the accountant, there wasn’t anything fancy at her place as far as he knew.
The dining room occupied a small area behind the pokies. The guy in the suit was already seated in the far corner fiddling with his mobile. A young couple sat at another table with a toddler and a baby in a high chair, and there was a group of people who, by the look of their whites, had been playing bowls.
Coop positioned himself close to the guy in the suit – he figured he wouldn’t be looking for conversation. He took another sip of beer and settled back to wait for his meal. The young dad was keeping the toddler amused by drawing on a piece of paper while the mother was feeding the baby some mash from a bowl. The little boy giggled and his mother paused to look at the paper. She smiled and the man reached across and patted her leg.
Coop looked away as a surge of envy took him by surprise. It had been a long time since he’d had anything more than a brief conversation with a woman. When he’d first come to Munirilla, there’d been a few opportunities but nothing had eventuated. He didn’t go anywhere much and tended to keep to himself. Now thirty-five, he had long since decided there would be no happy little family for him.
The door to the kitchen swung open and the young girl Barb employed as a ‘kitchen hand-cum-waitress’ placed his meal in front of him.
‘Thanks Sandra. This looks good.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Always the best for you, Coop.’
He ducked his head. What had he done to deserve the special smile she gave him? The serviette was wrapped tightly around the cutlery and he had to rip it to get it unstuck. The roast was delicious and he concentrated on that, banishing his fugitive emotions.
While he was eating the other patrons all left, except for the suit. Coop glanced in his direction from time to time. Sandra had delivered a roast to him as well, but he’d continued to fiddle with his phone, and was picking at what must be a cold meal by now. He muttered and stood up, knocking a knife to the floor. He ignored it, glanced around and moved closer to Coop’s table.
‘Is there anywhere in this town where I can get reception?’
Coop looked into the man’s sharp eyes. Up close it was obvious he was a lot younger than Coop had first thought, maybe mid-twenties. The suit was expensive and its deep grey emphasised the pale complexion of its owner. His hair was carefully groomed to look messy, and the nails on the hand clutching the phone were clean and neatly clipped.
‘I couldn’t tell you,’ Coop said. ‘I don’t own a phone.’
‘Really?’ The sharp look was replaced by one of utter surprise.
‘Never needed one.’
‘Really?’ he said again.
‘Plenty of people around here use them so they must work somewhere.’ The man continued to stare. It didn’t look like he was going to move on. Coop stood up and extended his hand. ‘I’m Coop.’
His hand received a quick shake. ‘Jeremy Wood. I’m from Adelaide.’
‘Really?’ Coop couldn’t resist. ‘I’m guessing this is your first visit to Munirilla.’
‘My accounting firm has an office here.’ Jeremy looked at his phone again. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to manage without this though.’
Coop picked up his Akubra from the chair beside him. ‘Sorry I can’t help.’
‘I wasn’t sure about this place.’ Jeremy flicked his eyes upward. ‘Is there any other accommodation in town?’
‘The Highway Hotel is out on the main road.’
‘They’re booked out tonight.’
‘It can get busy in Munirilla, especially weekends. Being on the main highway from east to west, we get a lot of people stopping overnight.’
‘Looks like I’ll be staying here then.’
‘Guess if you need a bed you’ll have to take your chances.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
Coop pushed his hat onto his head.
‘Look, the night’s only young,’ Jeremy said. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
‘No thanks. I have to get going.’
‘How was the roast?’ Barb called through the kitchen door.
Coop gave her the thumbs up. ‘Spot on. Thanks Barb. See you later.’
‘Say hello to Alice when you talk to her.’
Coop lifted his hand in farewell and nodded to Jeremy as Barb bustled around clearing tables.
‘Excuse me?’
Coop half turned but could see Jeremy was beckoning Barb with his hand.
She glanced up. ‘Yes matey?’ she said and kept stacking plates.
Jeremy glared at her.
‘What can I help you with?’ she asked as she passed him with an armful of dishes.
‘Can I book a room?’
‘Sure thing, matey. You head out to the bar and I’ll be with you in a tick.’
Jeremy hovered on one foot, watching his host disappear through the kitchen door.
Coop smiled and let himself out into the warm, fresh air. Jeremy was on a steep learning curve for his first visit to Munirilla.
Chapter 7
A strange buzzing disturbed Angela’s sleep. She rolled over and opened her eyes. Soft light was ebbing in around the curtains. She sat up, then clutched her head as she regretted the sudden movement. She’d drunk way too much champagne but that, she now realised, wasn’t the worst of it.
While many of the wedding party had taken rooms at the hotel, Angela’s plan had always been to get a taxi home. But then she’d gone to one of the hotel bars, partied on and decided to stay. Only problem was, this wasn’t her room.
Carefully, she turned. There beside her was the sprawled shape of Eddie. She edged away from him and grabbed the side of the bed for support. Last night’s events slowly seeped back into her foggy brain. They were both still dressed – well, partly. She was in her underwear. The zip of her dress had finally given way under the strain of the kissing and groping that had taken place once th
ey’d made it back to Eddie’s room. He was wearing boxer shorts and his shirt was open and twisted around him.
The buzzing started up again and she glanced from Eddie to his mobile phone, which was glowing and vibrating on the bedside table. Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet as she scrambled to switch it off. She held her breath. His soft snoring continued without pause.
In the dull light of day Eddie didn’t look so appealing. She glanced from his ragged face to the hairs on his chest that dwindled down inside his boxers to … She shuddered. Whatever was in there, she hadn’t found out. Thankfully. Nothing more had happened than a few sloppy kisses before the alcohol had set him snoring and her to sleep soon after. Now all she wanted to do was get out of here before he woke up.
The harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom drew a groan from her lips. She peered through slitted eyelids at the remains of the makeup she’d so admired yesterday. Now it was smeared around her eyes and down her cheeks. The soft curls had become clumps of straw and the strands on top of her head poked out in all directions, completing the scarecrow appearance.
Angela jumped as someone banged on the door of Eddie’s room, then listened in horror as she heard Carmela’s voice calling his name. She looked around the tiny bathroom. There was nowhere to hide.
Carmela thumped the door and called out again, until Angela heard Eddie mumbling and stumbling his way to the door. Suddenly Carmela’s voice was inside the hotel room.
‘Eddie, why aren’t you answering your phone?’
‘I didn’t hear it.’ His voice was a low mutter. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Carla’s been trying to call you. She’s having the baby.’
‘What?!’ Eddie’s voice was louder now. ‘When?’
Angela pressed her fingers to her temples. Joe’s wife was having the baby. Why would she be ringing Eddie?
‘Eddie!’ Carmela’s voice was sharp. ‘What’s been going on?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing! What is Angela’s dress doing here?’
Angela’s hand went to her mouth.
‘Carmela, don’t get hysterical. It was just a bit of fun.’
‘Just a bit of fun? You sicken me. Your wife is at home having your child and you’re having a bit of fun!’
Angela cringed. If Carmela’s voice rose any higher, the whole hotel would hear the story.
‘Just forget it. It meant nothing. Nothing happened.’
‘Where is she?’
Angela grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. None of this made any sense. Carmela said Joe was the married one. The thump on the bathroom door made her jump.
‘Come out of there, Angela.’
She opened the door a crack. Carmela’s angry face loomed in front of her.
‘I can’t believe you,’ Carmela hissed. ‘I warned you about Eddie.’ ‘You said …’
Carmela thrust the green dress through the gap in the door. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Get dressed.’
‘I can’t.’
‘What do you mean, you can’t?’
‘The zip’s broken. I can’t even hold it together.’
‘It seems that’s not all you can’t hold together.’
Angela glared. ‘Now look, Carmela–’
‘Stay there.’ Carmela slammed the door shut.
From inside the bathroom, Angela could hear her ordering Eddie to get dressed and go up to her room for a shower, to just tell Tony that the shower down here wasn’t working. Angela sat on the toilet clutching her dress. How had she got herself into this mess?
The door flung open again and Carmela snapped at her before she had the chance to speak. ‘I’ll get Kate to bring you something to wear.’
Angela groaned. She didn’t want any more people involved. ‘Can’t you lend me something?’
‘Nothing of mine would fit you. Kate’s your only hope. Unless you want me to stitch you back into that dress?’
Angela sighed. Carmela was right. She was about a size eight. Kate had a bit more meat on her bones.
‘Stay here until Kate comes, then I want you dressed and gone.’
‘Nothing happened, Carmela. Anyway, you said Joe was the sleaze.’ Angela hated the pleading she heard in her voice, but she had to make Carmela understand. ‘You said …’
‘I don’t want to hear it.’ Carmela spun on her heel and strode to the door. ‘I thought I could trust you.’
The door slammed and Angela slumped onto a chair. ‘Trust me,’ she muttered. ‘What about bloody cousin Eddie?’ Her head sank into her hands as she recalled how much fun Eddie had been on the dance floor after her run-in with Nigel. She vaguely remembered Carmela giving her a stern look at the end of the night when the bride and groom were being applauded from the reception. Angela thought it was to do with the number of drinks she’d had. A group of them had gone on to the bar until it was only her and Eddie left. One thing led to another until … Well, until nothing, really. That was the sum of it. They’d shared a bed, briefly, that was all.
‘Angela?’ Kate’s voice accompanied a soft tap on the door.
Angela opened the door.
‘You really are here.’ Kate stepped into the room carrying a bundle of clothes. ‘I was hoping that Carmela was dreaming and had it all wrong. You know how melodramatic she is.’
‘This is a bloody nightmare, not a dream. And Carmela has got it wrong. We slept beside each other.’ Angela waved her hands straight up and down in front of her. ‘Not together. It takes two to tango, you know, and by the time we got here, Eddie wasn’t up to a soft-shoe shuffle let alone a tango. Nothing happened.’
Kate looked at her. ‘I’m not judging you, Angela. I want you to have a man in your life, but why pick the married one? Why didn’t you stick with Joe? He seemed nice enough.’
Angela pulled the t-shirt Kate offered over her head. ‘Joe’s the married one.’
‘No he isn’t. Eddie’s married. Carmela explained it all the other day. Joe broke up with his girlfriend a couple of months back. He was pretty devastated and hasn’t been out with anyone since.’
None of this was making any sense to Angela. She shook her head carefully. ‘Carmela told me to watch out for Joe.’
‘Yes, because he’s still feeling fragile.’
‘Oh no.’ Angela put her hands to her mouth as understanding sank in. ‘I was with the wrong cousin. Why didn’t you stop me?’
‘When John and I left, you were only dancing. You looked like you were having fun. We all decided there wasn’t any harm in it.’
‘All?’
Kate paused. ‘Sarah was worried.’
‘Why didn’t she talk to me?’
‘I told her to leave you alone,’ she grimaced. ‘Besides, there were still other people there.’
Angela made one last attempt to put things straight. ‘But Carmela said she was sorry to pair me up with Joe, that she thought I would be able to manage him.’
‘Manage him as in em-pa-thy.’ Kate wiggled her index fingers up and down as she said the syllables. ‘She thought you would understand how he’d be feeling.’
‘Oh, I get it.’ Angela shoved her legs into Kate’s jeans. ‘Two bleeding hearts together. The losers can partner up.’
‘Carmela did what she thought was best. He was never meant to be your partner anyway, remember? You were standing in for Christie.’
‘Oh, this is such a mess!’ Angela wailed. She sat on a chair to roll up the extra length of Kate’s jeans. ‘I just want to get out of here.’
‘Why don’t you come down to breakfast with John and me?’
‘No thanks, Kate. I look a wreck and these are obviously not my clothes. I just want to go home.’
‘I can drive you.’
‘No, you go back to John. I’ll get a taxi.’
Angela grabbed her bag and shoes, wishing she’d got the taxi last night instead of staying on with the traitorous Eddie.
‘What about the dress?’
‘Bu
rn it,’ Angela called over her shoulder. She hurried down the corridor and jabbed at the lift button. She tugged on her strappy shoes while she waited, then staggered into the elevator.
‘Hey, it’s Angela,’ a chirpy male voice called from the corner of the lift. ‘Or is it Ms Green now?’
She focused on the voice without turning around. It was Ian, from her work. He’d been in the bar till the early hours as well. Normally she steered clear of him. He was always making suggestive comments and thought he was God’s gift to women. She really must have had way too much to drink. Last night even Ian had seemed good fun.
‘You had a good night then?’ He laughed and nudged the guy next to him.
Angela tried to smooth her hair with one hand. ‘It was a lovely wedding,’ she mumbled.
‘You end up with that Eddie fella?’ Ian persisted. ‘He was the life of the party.’
‘I stayed with a friend,’ Angela said. She gave him a feeble smile then turned away, but not before she saw Ian nudge the guy next to him again and lewd grins spread across their faces. Soon the whole office would be hearing Ian’s version of the night’s events.
On her other side, a middle-aged couple were inspecting her down the lengths of their noses. Elevators were such confronting places.
Then she noticed the man in the corner behind them, and a sour taste filled her mouth. Nigel lifted an eyebrow as their eyes met. Angela’s head snapped back to face the front of the lift. The doors opened and she shot through them like a cork from a bottle, her hand clapped to her mouth. She felt sick and anxious and seedy. Not only was her life a mess right now, but so many people were witness to the debacle it had become.
Chapter 8
Angela lurched to a sitting position on the couch and nausea churned in her stomach. Somewhere a banging noise echoed the thumping in her head. She clutched her brow as the pain deepened and the pounding at her front door intensified.
‘Angela, are you in there?’ Janice’s high-pitched demand was quickly followed by another voice.
‘Mummy, open the door. Let me in.’ Claudia’s voice mimicked Janice’s irritation.
Angela staggered to her feet, rubbed at her face and tried to run her fingers through her hair but they jagged in the knots, causing even more pain. She pushed her tongue around her mouth in an attempt to create some moisture, then opened the door. Claudia rushed through and flung her little arms around Angela’s legs.
Queen of the Road Page 5
