by Maya Linnell
‘A roomful of single blokes who can’t keep their eyes off you. You might find your Prince Charming,’ he said, playfully.
A Prince Charming in a safari suit, to be specific.
Lara was sweating in the tiny kitchen later that night. Cameron, Evie and Holly raced in and out with alternating armfuls of pavlova and lemon tart, while Penny, Angie and Diana helped the CWA ladies in the production line. Pete looked up from his sink full of soapy dishwater, the same spot he’d stood all night. He looked like he’d reached his limit.
‘I hate dishes,’ said Elliot, scowling as his twin brother Harry snapped a wet tea towel in his direction.
‘I’ve told you two …’ warned Pete, dumping a handful of clean cutlery onto the drying rack.
‘They need a dishwasher,’ said Harry.
‘But they’ve got you two instead. The dish pig’s the most important role in the kitchen,’ said Lara. ‘I’ll pay you an extra ten dollars each if you get all these dishes dried and put away before the speeches are finished. And no more of that,’ she said, confiscating Harry’s wet tea towel and replacing it with a dry one.
‘Thanks, Lars, you’re a lifesaver.’ Diana sent the last of the desserts off with Cameron before smoothing her floral dress and applying lipstick in a small hand mirror. She passed the lipstick to Penny, who touched up her lips, and then offered it to Angie. Lara slipped off a shoe and rubbed the back of her heel.
‘Your turn,’ said Diana encouragingly, noticing Lara’s hesitation with lipstick. ‘You look gorgeous tonight, may as well stick with the theme. How is it out there?’
‘Everyone seems happy,’ said Lara, slicking the colour across her lips. ‘Meals have been a hit.’
Angus breezed through the door, followed by Toby. Lara’s gaze met his and she smiled.
‘All ready for the speeches, girls?’
Penny, Diana and Angie nodded in unison and headed out.
Toby was waiting for Lara. ‘Ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this over and done with.’
They squeezed behind chairs, stopping to chat with guests on the way to the stage. If the feedback from the random cross-section of diners was any indication, they were onto a winner.
‘Righto, everybody, can we have a bit of hush?’ Angus tapped the microphone on stage.
Despite his request, the guests continued to murmur and cutlery chimed against plates.
Lara followed her sisters up the steps and stood between Angus and Toby. She gave a shrill whistle. The room fell silent.
‘Well, that’ll do it,’ said Toby quietly as everyone in the room swivelled towards them.
Angus started again. ‘Thanks for coming tonight, folks. In case you didn’t notice the little bluestone building three doors down, this whole weekend’s about raising money to buy our town’s general store.’
Lara could see the pride in his eyes, and was struck by how much her mum would have loved to have been here for this special occasion.
Penny stepped up after Angus. ‘And for those staying the whole weekend, don’t forget the bonfire at McIntyre Park tomorrow. You can make your own way, otherwise a bus will leave from the hall at eleven a.m. sharp.’
She handed the microphone to Lara, who surveyed the crowd.
‘We’ve also got raffle tickets for sale all weekend. The prize is a year’s free rent at the studio apartment above the shop, an absolute bargain for fifty dollars a ticket. And before I pass you over to Toby for details on Sunday’s fun run, I want to give a special shout out to Mrs Beggs, the owner of the Bridgefield General Store.’
Lara waited as a ripple of applause went through the room.
‘There’ve been a lot of late nights and uncertainty as we’ve worked out how to save our shop, fundraising to acquire the bulk of the funds, but we really appreciate your support. It wouldn’t have happened without this weekend, so a huge thanks to each and every one of you in the room, and the volunteers who made it all happen. I’m thrilled to announce that we’ve met our target.’
More clapping and whistles echoed through the hall.
A combination of relief and energy rushed through Lara as she handed the microphone to Toby. Angie reached out and squeezed her hands, her expression matching the way Lara felt. She looked at Diana and Penny. Broad smiles were stretched across their faces too.
We’ve done it. We’ve really done it.
The guests returned to their conversations as Toby followed the McIntyres off stage. Before long chairs were scraping across the timber floorboards as the band started up a pop number. Toby paused and looked back at the stage, waiting to catch the bass player’s eye. The guitarist gave him a quick wink. Toby flicked him a thumbs-up.
Time to squeeze in some photos. He collected his camera and reeled off a few shots, trying to capture the electricity, excitement and anticipation in the room.
A woman squeezed past, flashing him a confident smile.
‘Dr Livingstone, I presume? Love your suit. All you need is a pith helmet,’ she said.
Toby laughed. I’ll be buggered. Belinda was right about the outfit all along.
The woman stepped closer. The gold bangles on her arm jangled as she reached across and broke a small flower off the nearest table centrepiece. She moved to tuck the bloom into his top buttonhole, then looked up coyly, pursing her glossy lips.
Aware that most red-blooded blokes would have found the move as sexy as hell, he gave a polite smile and put some distance between them.
‘Like a photo?’
‘You can photograph me any which way you want,’ she offered, doing the lip moistening thing again.
Toby took his quickest photo of the night and made his escape.
Less than five photos later, he was hit on again.
Big brown eyes and a perfectly white smile flashed up at him. The woman reached out and adjusted the top button of his shirt, resting her hands by the lapel for a beat.
‘Nothing better than a guy who isn’t afraid to stand out in the crowd. Keen for a dance?’
This safari suit should come with a warning label, he thought, declining with an apologetic smile.
‘I’m good, but thanks. Have a great night,’ he said, scanning the room for a flash of mauve. There was a whole room of women looking for Mr Right, but there was only one that piqued his interest. And she was heading for the door.
Twenty-three
Despite her best intentions to leave, two hours later Lara was still weaving her way between tables, helping out with ‘just one more’ errand for Penny. Her feet ached like buggery, and she knew there would be endless blisters competing for her attention tomorrow morning.
She slipped outside, relishing the fresh air and cool breeze on her face. There were couples canoodling under the twinkling fairy lights, and laughter coming from hushed conversations in the shadows surrounding the hall.
The exhilaration of achieving their goal flooded over her again, along with a hefty spattering of goosebumps, and she beamed as she walked back inside.
The room was abuzz with conversation. The band was playing a low biding-their-time tune until the dessert dishes were cleared. Even though she didn’t buy into the whole romance scam, it made her feel good to know they were bringing people together tonight. Whether it was for one night or longer was irrelevant. Right here, in this rustic town hall in the heart of western Victoria, there was happiness. She could almost taste the optimism in the air.
Lara saw a man edging through the crowd, the bald circle on the back of his head shining under the lights. The older singles had been an unexpected bonus, with their open wallets and jovial attitude. A niche market waiting to be tapped.
If the bush nursing gig goes belly-up, I could always start an over-fifties events business.
The man turned, and Lara stopped in her tracks as her eyes met his. It was McCluskey, all freshly shaven and slick-haired, wearing the ugliest brown suit she’d ever seen, heading in her direction.
She
took in the skinny tie and his polished boots. He’d made an effort. A green wristband poked out from under his cream shirt sleeve, and she swallowed the question on her lips about him sneaking in.
‘You’re the last person I expected to see here, Clyde,’ she said.
‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, right?’
After years of feeling nothing but frustration and irritation towards her neighbour, Lara felt sorry for Clyde McCluskey. Toby’s right, he’s just a lonely old bachelor. Her mother had told them that very same thing decades earlier, when they’d baulked at her request to ride across town and deliver him a casserole or cake. In retrospect, he hadn’t even been that old at the time, but to the teenage McIntyre girls, he’d seemed ancient. He’d found the love of his life, Edna, too late to have children, only to have her ripped from his side by cancer.
Everyone deserves a night out.
‘We’re glad to have you here.’
She wasn’t sure he would find love, but perhaps it was a step in the right direction.
Lara didn’t bother to hold back a yawn as she made her way towards the door. Making a good impression hadn’t been on her agenda—hell, being here tonight hadn’t been on her agenda either—and there were only a few kilometres between her and fresh bed sheets.
‘Hey Lara, wait up. I haven’t got a photo of you yet.’
She turned at the sound of her name and felt a little leap in her belly as a powder-blue suit veered her way.
It had been a long time since her body had reacted to a man, but it seemed to do all sorts of funny things around Toby.
He gestured to the bar where her sisters were enjoying a well-earned drink.
‘Just a quick one?’
Lara studied the wilted sprig of flowers in his top pocket.
‘One drink or one photo?’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Both.’
Lara thought about Clyde dressed in his finest. She turned to see Angus waltzing around the dance floor with an elegant older woman and a smile wider than she’d seen in ages.
What’s stopping you? How many times have you thought about this guy in the last five months, with his odd socks and goofy bike helmet?
Toby held out a hand, gave it a quick squeeze and led her towards the bar.
Why couldn’t he have been born with a bulbous nose or crossed eyes? Or at least without that little dimple, she thought half-heartedly as she followed him.
Penny hurried up to them. ‘You read my mind, Toby. Can’t leave without evidence of my fab team of helpers,’ she said, finger combing her hair until it was camera-ready.
Lara found herself being squished into a McIntyre-sister sandwich, but it wasn’t hard to muster up a convincing smile.
The night had surpassed expectations, and the air of triumph among the committee had given the whole event a celebratory vibe.
Diana lifted the camera strap from around Toby’s neck.
‘Now, you guys too.’
Lara shuffled next to Toby.
‘Closer.’ Diana kept inching them together until their hips were touching.
About as subtle as a sledgehammer.
Lara’s mind seesawed as Diana fussed with the camera.
It doesn’t even have to be a thing. It could be a flash in the pan, one night of pleasure to get it out of my system.
She looked back at Toby, whose attention had turned to the stage. He clapped as the band finished their song.
Yeah, Lara, keep telling yourself that you’d be able to walk away after one night.
Just as she’d made up her mind to leave, the first bars of ‘Nutbush City Limits’ came across the loud speakers. Women launched from their chairs and a handful of men migrated from the bar and the tables onto the dance floor. Before the vocalist had even reached the first line, the dancers were divided into neat rows and shuffling in a slightly inebriated but nevertheless uniform style.
Toby raised an eyebrow, his shoulders bopping to the tune. Lara glanced at the stage.
‘This your doing?’
‘No idea what you mean,’ he laughed, a glint in his eyes. ‘But you can’t seriously leave at the start of the Nutbush.’
Lara rolled her eyes and half-heartedly lifted one knee into the air, then criss-crossed her arms across her chest, laughing at the hopelessness of her rendition. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a dance floor, let alone attempted any choreographed moves.
‘Yeah, nup. Dancing’s not my jam, especially when it’s a cover. Nobody should even try to match Tina. I’ll leave you to it.’
Toby reached for her hand, his amusement clear.
‘C’mon, I’ll teach you.’
Lara wasn’t sure if it was his mock puppy-dog eyes or his boyish enthusiasm, but she found herself following Toby into the crowd and flinging her arms and legs around as per his directions.
‘Right, right. Left, left. Back, back, and on the left, left. Knees, kick and twist,’ he called, showing off with a little criss-cross jump between the steps. Lara felt sweat trickle down her cleavage and tried to fit in a clap, like Toby had done after jumping. The distraction messed up her rhythm and she doubled over with laughter after her knee came precariously close to colliding with Toby’s groin.
‘Steady on there,’ he laughed, gripping her hips and spinning her ninety degrees so she was in line with the rest of the group. As much as she tried, Lara couldn’t get the hang of the moves, but when she caught a glimpse of the room’s reflection in the hall window, even she couldn’t deny she looked like someone having fun.
Toby felt a little like Fred Astaire, if Fred had worn safari suits and been alive when Tina Turner was in vogue. The Lara who was dancing with him now was so different to the focused woman who held tight control over her emotions, guarded her privacy fiercely and moved heaven and earth to save her local store; the runner who took sprint sessions more seriously than he took his tax and thought nothing of smashing out twenty kilometres before Sunday breakfast.
So busy admiring her carefree but uncoordinated dance moves, Toby missed the timing on the ninety-degree jump, which sent Lara into gales of laughter.
‘You’re supposed to be teaching me.’
‘I didn’t promise perfection,’ he grinned. The band started to wind down. Lara wiped her forehead and eyed the dancers retreating to the bar and the restrooms.
He cursed himself for not having the foresight to request two decent songs in a row.
‘Another one?’
Lara paused a beat, slowly shaking her head.
‘The girls will be finished in the kitchen by now, I’d better head off,’ she said. But neither of them moved.
‘Yeah,’ he conceded. ‘Big few days ahead. But you’ve got to admit, that Nutbush was pretty funny.’
She agreed, her attention shifting behind him.
Lara waved across the room. ‘Evie, time to hit the road.’
Toby reluctantly lifted a hand, making a similar gesture to Holly. The girls hurried in the opposite direction. It reminded him of the endless after-school play dates when Holly had avoided leaving her friend’s houses.
He exchanged a ‘kids, huh?’ look with Lara, but he wasn’t especially perturbed. Anything that kept Lara by his side a little longer was a win in his books. He followed her to the kitchen, and found the girls working alongside Cameron.
‘Dad, can I stay another hour?’ Holly’s eyes were wide with anticipation.
‘Aunty Diana will drop us all home if we help pack up,’ added Evie.
‘Mum said she had plenty of jobs, if it’s okay with you both,’ said Cameron.
Toby lifted an eyebrow and looked at Lara. He didn’t really want to leave Holly at a singles ball until midnight, but if she was needed … And it would mean he’d be able to walk Lara to her car without the teenage chaperones.
Diana strode into the hall kitchen.
‘All good? I’ll be working them to the bone,’ she said, with a quick look at the trio, who had made themselve
s suspiciously useful stacking away platters and wiping down kitchen benches.
Toby pulled his keys from his camera bag, pocketed them, and handed the camera equipment to Holly.
‘Only if you grab a few more photos for next week’s social pages.’
‘Deal,’ said Holly, clearly delighted.
Toby and Lara made their farewells and headed for the door.
‘I’ll dust off the moves so I’m right for next time,’ said Toby, holding the door open for Lara.
‘Not many dances in Bridgefield,’ she said wryly, then shivered and tugged her shawl closer as the wind wrapped itself around them.
‘Maybe the shop committee can diversify now that the fight to save the general store’s over. How about a town progress association?’ Toby said, just as he spotted a couple smooching under the big oak.
‘Yeah, or another fun run to help sponsor the primary school’s agriculture program or something.’ Lara fished out her car keys as they walked down the laneway alongside the shop. She hugged her arms around herself and swung her head to flick her hair away. He knew it wasn’t intended as a come on, but Lara’s mannerisms were infinitely sexier than the blatant flirting he’d witnessed inside the hall. Toby felt his body respond. He longed to uncross those arms and warm her up the best way he knew how.
‘What about a barn dance in summer?’
‘I thought you were only here for two years; why do you even care?’ Lara asked, looking even more beautiful in the moonlight.
‘What if I stayed?’
Lara traced a finger along a bluestone brick.
‘And give up the career you’ve always wanted?’
‘I can think of a few good reasons to stay. The main one’s standing right here in front of me.’
He stepped a little closer, close enough to hear her breath catch, before reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.
Slowly, slowly, Paxton.
He wanted to press his mouth to hers, slide his hands up and down her body, tug that soft fabric close to him and show her how much he wanted to stay, but he needed to be sure.
