by Lilly Mirren
All she’d wanted was to resurrect Nan’s garden so that she could keep something of Nan for herself. Was it too much to ask that a possum didn’t eat Nan’s legacy? Maybe Reeda would want to sell the inn anyway, in which case there was no point trying.
So much for that relaxation technique.
Her neck seized with tension.
She hadn’t seen Alex in days. He’d been busy with school and the after-school soccer team he coached some afternoons. But he always made sure to visit the inn and get the horses settled for the night.
Before she reached the stables, she spotted his truck parked in the attached carport.
Why hadn’t he come to the inn to see her? Perhaps she’d exaggerated his feelings for her in her own mind, simply because of the way she cared for him. Perhaps he didn’t feel the same way. Something she’d only just begun to understand. It made sense. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels for someone like her.
She marched into the storeroom and found him putting lids on the feed barrels.
He glanced up, then smiled, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! How are you?”
He finished what he was doing then gave her a kiss. She pulled away.
“Is something wrong?” He frowned.
“Were you going to come and say hello? I haven’t seen you in days.”
His brow creased further still. “Yes, I was. But I haven’t made it home yet today, soccer practice…”
“I get it, you’re busy. Maybe you’re too busy for me.”
He studied her, his face unreadable. “Okay, Kate. What’s up?”
She ran a hand through her hair. “Nothing. Something. Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”
“And what page is that?” he asked, pressing his hands to his hips.
“I don’t want anything serious and you do.” That wasn’t right. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it slipped out. What she wanted to say was that she didn’t want to be his second choice, that his heart would likely always belong to his deceased wife and that she wanted all of it, or none at all. She wouldn’t spend her life like Pop, oblivious to the fact that her spouse was pining after a lost love.
“I see. If that’s how you feel…”
“It is. I think we should end things now, before anyone gets hurt.”
“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” he said, his cheeks flushing red.
“It’s coming from me. Reeda wants to sell the inn, and I’ll be moving back to Brisbane. My life is there, my career is there. I can’t live here forever, I’m a chef, there’s nowhere for me to go.”
His shoulders drooped. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I thought everything was going great between us. We’re having fun, enjoying time together, getting to know each other. This isn’t like you at all.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“I guess not,” he said, his eyes dark.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I’ll get out of your hair. I’m finished for the day anyway. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you.”
He left then, the truck tires squealing as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the highway. Kate squeezed her eyes shut, a pain in her gut clenched her stomach muscles tight.
What had she done?
It was for the best. She couldn’t be his second choice, the one he lived with but didn’t love. She needed more than that, and she’d fallen too hard for him too fast to cope with discovering she didn’t mean as much to him as he did to her when they were eighty years old. She couldn’t waste her heart the way Pop had. He’d deserved more than Nan had been able to give him, and Kate deserved more than Alex could give her.
She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed, then hunched her shoulders and wandered back to the inn.
29
February 1996
Cabarita Beach
Ginger snorted as Kate swung onto the horse’s broad back. This time she’d added a saddle so they could gallop along the beach and Kate wouldn’t feel as though she might be jolted off at any moment and trampled beneath the animal’s hooves.
She was too old to be flung from a horse’s back these days. When she was young, she remembered falling on a regular basis, onto the hard sand, into grassy hollows, into a patch of thistles on one particularly warm day, but she never had more than a few scratches or bruises to show for it. Now, at almost thirty, she knew she’d suffer far more if she fell so far.
They trotted down the path to the beach. The track branched off to one side to circumnavigate the timber stairs, and Ginger jostled slowly down the steep embankment, then took off at a trot again through the warm, soft sand.
Sweat trickled in a line down the centre of Kate’s back. She wore a sleeveless white singlet over a pair of colourful board shorts, decorated with frangipanis and green leaves. A white helmet perched on her head like the end of a cue tip, and her straight brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail that slapped against her back with each bounce.
The inn was complete, they’d listed it with all the appropriate real estate agencies and travel agencies both locally and across the country. They were booked solid next week, their official grand re-opening week, and for a full three months after that. Kate had included a series of photographs with her listing when she sent it out, and she’d received a number of messages of congratulations from people Nan had worked with in the past, pleased with the inn’s transformation.
Nerves buzzed in her gut. It was really happening. Finally, after all this time and work, it was coming together the way they’d planned. Reeda hadn’t pushed the idea of selling the inn since their fight, and the inn’s transformation was complete. She hoped Nan would’ve been pleased with what they’d achieved. She was certain Nan would’ve said something encouraging, then cracked a joke that they’d have laughed over. She didn’t have Nan’s easy wit, but Kate had done her best to tell Reeda and Bindi how much she appreciated their hard work over the past months.
She and her sisters had talked over the developer’s offer and decided that, for now, they’d put it to one side. They were all curious to see how the inn fared once it was open for business, and if pre-bookings were any indication of success, it seemed they’d made the right choice. Reeda had apologised for her outburst and they’d made up over a pot of tea.
Ginger’s hooves pounded along the water’s edge, leaving half-circle impressions in the hard sand. Kate leaned forward, a smile on her face and the wind whipping strands of hair into her eyes.
Saltwater spray wet her cheeks as her legs held on tight to the saddle and the power of Ginger’s movements radiated up through her body.
It’d been a month since she and Alex had split. She tried not to think about him, but it was difficult with him working at the inn. Bindi had offered to be the one to deal with him and Kate had taken her up on it, only visiting the stables when she knew he wouldn’t be there.
She missed him, but she reckoned it was for the best. He’d be better off without her, especially if she didn’t stay in Cabarita. And she didn’t want to settle for a half-hearted attempt at love, the way Pop had done for all those years as Nan’s second choice.
She’d kept busy with the re-opening of the inn, dealing with insurance, permits, licences and more. Thankfully, the money from Nan’s account had come through in time to pay all the contractors, and everything had been taken care of. They’d used most of the funds to renovate, so they needed the inn to operate profitably within six months or they’d have to reconsider the developer’s offer.
And maybe that would be for the best anyway. Then they could all return to their lives. Bindi would find another job. Reeda could go home to Sydney, and Kate could start all over again in Brisbane. Although the thought didn’t sit well in her stomach. She grimaced. Starting a new life wasn’t as appealing as it had been a decade earlier.
She’d worked so hard to build th
e life she thought she’d wanted, and now that it was gone, she felt more relief than anything. Relief that she didn’t have to keep all those balls in the air any longer. That she could be herself, be real and take things as they came. With no one to impress, nothing to strive for, she could ride Ginger along the beach with the wind in her hair.
Still, she couldn’t stay in Cabarita forever. Could she? There was nothing there but a general store, a fish and chip shop, a bait shop, and a Chinese takeaway restaurant. She needed more than that for a full life. She had dreams, goals, plans. All she was doing was taking a break, having a well-earned and much-needed rest. Then, she could go back to the city and tackle the mountain all over again.
She sighed and steered Ginger up through the soft sand to the top of the beach. They stopped, and Kate looked around, one hand shielding her eyes from the harsh sun. It was almost dusk, and the sunlight sparkled on the ocean’s surface like jewels, ever moving, never settling anywhere for more than a moment.
Kate decided to ride back to the inn along the side of the road rather than the beach. She could stop at the General Store and buy a litre of milk to take with her. Otherwise they’d have nothing to put in their tea that evening.
She ended up buying an ice cream as well, a special treat she rarely indulged in now. She’d managed to fit back into her clothes more easily after a month of daily exercise and forgoing dessert. She tied the bag with the milk to her saddle, and licked the cone with slow deliberation as Ginger plodded along the narrow grass verge. The reins hung loose in one hand and Ginger’s neck stretched out long and relaxed, her head bobbing with each step.
By the time she was in sight of the inn, the sun had settled beneath the horizon and shadows lengthened along the sides of the road where bushes and shrubbery clumped together in groups as though to comfort one another.
Something moved on the side of the road up ahead. Just where the Waratah’s drive branched away from the main road. Dusk was too thick and the waning sunlight too dim to tell exactly what it was, but when it moved again, Kate squinted, then her eyes widened.
It was that possum. Her possum!
If she hurried, she could cut off its escape, shepherd it away from the inn and into the brush on the other side of the highway. Bruno’s team had sealed up its entrance into the inn’s roof and she’d thought they’d gotten rid of the creature until she discovered where it’d romped through her garden again. Surely the creature would be happier living on the other side of the road, in the freedom of the bush.
She kicked Ginger to a trot, leaning forward to urge her into a canter. A smile tickled the corners of her mouth. She would finally get the little so and so.
As she drew closer, the possum saw her and stopped still in the centre of the road.
Sure, it was cute. But it was also a menace. For months, maybe years, it’d scratched about in the roof cavity. She distinctively recalled hearing a chewing sound at various intervals, which made her skin crawl. Was it actually eating the building from the inside out? And it’d taken to destroying Nan’s garden. That was something she couldn’t allow.
Anger stirred in her gut. The creature watched her, seeming unable to move. She was close, if she could squeeze between the possum and the gates, she could scare it off — maybe for good.
The roar of an engine behind her came as a surprise. A white ute hurtled by, V8 growling as it scattered gravel from wide tires into her path. Several sharp rocks hit her leg and torso and she shouted in dismay as Ginger lay back on her haunches and reared onto her hind legs.
Kate held on tight, hunkering over Ginger’s neck and threading her fingers through Ginger’s mane. The ice cream had landed on the ground somewhere a few metres back, though she still tasted its sweetness on her tongue.
Ginger pranced in a circle as Kate fought to control her, the reins tight between her fingers. Finally, Ginger settled back into a walk.
Kate’s heart jittered in her chest and her hands shook as she lowered them to rest on Ginger’s withers.
She stroked Ginger’s neck with one hand. “There, there, Ginger. Shhh. Good girl, everything’s fine.”
She squinted after the vehicle. In the distance its red brake lights blinked as it took the turn.
“Bogan!” she shouted after it.
Ginger trotted sideways.
“Sorry girl, it’s just that I can’t believe how inconsiderate…” she stopped there, staring at the road ahead.
Where was the possum?
She urged Ginger forward, and the horse trotted up to the inn’s gates. A brand-new sign hung above the stone entryway, announcing The Waratah Inn, Beachside Bed and Breakfast, in soft, swirling white letters against a yellow background.
When she saw the possum, lying against the stone wall, she gasped. With one smooth movement she slid from Ginger’s back and ran to it.
It lay on its side, eyes shut, blood splashed along its dark, smooth tail.
“Oh no,” said Kate, dropping to her haunches to take a closer look.
Her throat tightened. The possum’s sweet face was still, but its side heaved slightly with each shallow breath. It was still alive, but for how much longer?
She scooped it up gently and rested it in her arms. “Come on, possum, let’s get you inside and take a look.”
Its eyes flickered open and it struggled for a moment, its nails sharp against her skin, then gave in and watched her instead through one, dark eye, its mouth parted slightly as it panted.
She held the creature close to her body and led Ginger along with the reins looped around one hand. At the stables, she tugged off Ginger’s bridle, but left the saddle on her back. She opened the gate and Ginger trotted eagerly into the paddock to greet the other horses. Kate only hoped Ginger wouldn’t roll with the saddle on, but she couldn’t manage to take it off with only one free hand and the possum was getting heavier by the second.
She carried it to the inn, through the back door and into the kitchen.
“What in Heaven’s name?” Mima held a spoon over a saucepan on the stove, her eyes wide. “What do you have there?”
“A possum. Can you grab me a towel please, Mima?”
Mima hurried to comply and Kate lowered herself into a dining chair. Bindi was reading a book on the other side of the table and glanced up with a start.
“Bindi, can you please see if you can find a box? We must still have some empty ones lying around somewhere.”
Bindi hustled from the room, her brow furrowed. “Don’t you let that thing get away from you,” she called over her shoulder.
By the time they had the box and the towel sorted, the possum had relaxed in Kate’s arms. She lowered it into the box, and it lay there, unmoving but looking alert enough.
“Is it okay?” asked Bindi.
Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. It got into a tangle with a ute, but I didn’t see what happened exactly.”
“Oh, poor thing,” crooned Mima, bending to lean closer.
Kate squatted beside the box and ran a soft hand over the animal’s sides, legs, and tail, hoping to find some sign of the creature’s injuries. It reacted when she touched its tail, and that was where most of the blood was. And one of its hind legs seemed also to be hurt. An inspection of its chest and abdomen revealed a pouch, though it seemed to be empty.
“She’s a girl,” announced Kate.
“Oh, how sweet,” said Bindi. “I can’t believe she’s letting you touch her like that.”
“I think she’s in shock,” replied Kate with a frown. “The only injuries I can find are this hind leg and her tail. She must’ve been almost clear before the vehicle went by.”
Jack pushed through the back door with a grunt, tugged off his boots one by one with the toe of the other foot. He slumped into a chair, then spied the possum.
“Is that the same possum who lives in our roof?” he asked.
Kate nodded. “Lived. Past tense. She was almost run over, poor thing.”
He reached out a hand to
caress the animal’s fur. “Hmm… heart rate’s fast, but that’s to be expected, I guess. Seems like she’s in shock. Might be an idea to give her some water, help her calm down a little bit.”
“Good idea,” replied Kate. “How will I do that? A bowl or something?”
He chuckled, still stroking the possum’s soft back. “I reckon an eye dropper would do the trick.”
She found an eye dropper in one of Nan’s medical supply boxes and filled a cup with water. Then she carried it all back to the box and lowered the eye dropper toward the possum’s mouth. At first the animal paid no attention to the water dripping down her chin, then she began to lick.
“She’s drinking.” Kate smiled with triumph.
“Well, that’s a good sign. Isn’t it?” asked Bindi.
“I think so. If she’s still unwell in the morning, I’ll take her to see one of the vets in Kingscliff.”
“I’ll come with you,” replied Bindi. “I need to get away from this place. Next week is coming far too soon and I know I won’t get a chance to take a break for quite a while.”
Kate continued giving the animal water, while Bindi helped Mima to cook tea. Jack disappeared into the media room, no doubt to watch the news. He had to get his fix of current affairs in the evenings.
Kate sat cross-legged beside the box, stroking the animal’s soft fur every now and then. She couldn’t believe she’d tried to chase her away; up close she was so pretty. Her brown, almost golden eyes remained fixed on Kate, and her dark brown and black coat faded to white around her soft belly.
“I think I’ll call you Cocoa,” she said. “Because of your cocoa coloured fur.”
“Here you go,” said Mima, offering Kate a slice of apple. “See if she’ll eat that.”
Kate set the apple in front of Cocoa’s mouth, but the creature didn’t move.
“Not quite ready to eat yet? That’s okay. You’ll feel better soon.”
When Kate washed her hands for tea, she kept the possum in her box right by her feet. And when she went to bed, she carried the box to her room and set it against the wall. She wanted to be there in case Cocoa needed her. And besides, it was her fault Cocoa was injured. If she hadn’t tried to chase her away, the possum wouldn’t have frozen in the middle of the road like that. She lay on her side and stared at the box, her hands clasped together beneath her cheek.
