Outback Secrets by Rachael Johns

Chapter Thirteen

Saturday morning, following another surfing lesson with Liam, Henri left Cecil in the car park at The Palace and began the walk down the street to the Town Hall, which she could see was already surrounded by utes and four-wheel drives.

She had what could only be described as a spring in her step when she heard her mum summon her.

‘Henrietta! Boy, am I glad to see you. Come here and help me with all this stuff?’

She looked up to see her mother’s Prado parked out the front of Frankie’s Café and jogged the next few metres to get to her. ‘Hey, Mum.’

‘You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself this morning.’

‘It’s a beautiful day.’ Henri gestured to the sky, which was as clear as the ocean, except for the sun, shining brightly and already casting a warm glow on the earth. ‘And I’m excited about wreath-making.’

‘There’s more to that smile than good weather, and as for wreath-making …’ She snorted. ‘Don’t think I’m too old to remember what young love is like. Speaking of, I had a lovely chat with your new fella last night—’

‘So he told me. I’m lucky you didn’t scare him off.’

‘If he could be scared off so easily, he wouldn’t be worth having. But I have to say, it was a good conversation.’

‘Shall we get this stuff out?’ Henri pointed to the plastic containers and baskets in the back of the Prado. ‘We don’t want to be late.’

‘Late? Everyone else is blooming early. I can’t believe I had to park so far away.’

‘Guess they’re all as excited as I am.’

As they started towards the hall, their arms laden with wreath-making supplies from her mother’s prized garden, it was impossible to miss the massive For Sale sign in the window of the café.

‘I wonder who’ll buy it?’ Fiona remarked. ‘It’ll be sad to see Frankie go—what with Simone now living in Mingenew and their mum in Perth, I guess it’s the end of an era for their family.’

‘But the Burtons are still here,’ Henri said, thinking of Adam and his parents. His mum was Simone and Frankie’s aunt.

‘Yes, you’re right,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sure they’ll be back for plenty of visits, and I think Logan still plans to help with the Bunyip News until they can find someone to take over his position. Maybe that’s something you could do?’

‘What?’ Henri was thinking about the Burtons and the tragedy that had almost torn them apart, so she must have heard wrong.

‘Well, you were quite good at English at school and it’s always nice to give back to the community.’

‘It also helps if you live in the community,’ she replied, thinking that her mother had finally, completely, lost her marbles.

‘Well, if things get serious between you and Liam, won’t you want to spend more time here? Frankie and Logan found commuting between two places too hard and they were only working half an hour apart. Liam’s a good-looking man, Henrietta, you won’t want to leave him alone too long.’

‘Right. Of course.’ Fury rose inside Henri at her mother’s lessthan-subtle reference to Max—the man who had broken her heart five years ago. She swallowed the urge to snap that no man—not even one who gave fake kisses as good as Liam—would ever convince her to ground herself, while inside terrified that it wouldn’t be a man that did the honours at all.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, not wanting to cry or get in an argument with her mother right now.

‘Oh, look, is that Faith Forrester?’ she said, pointing to a tall woman retrieving a tiny baby from the back of a silver four-wheel drive, not too far from the town hall.

‘Yes.’ Her mum’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘Well, Faith Montgomery now. I heard she and Monty were coming home for Christmas. That must be baby Mabel. Let’s go over and help her.’

Henri wasn’t sure how they were going to do that when they were already carrying more than they really could, but she followed her over to Faith anyway.

‘Ooh, my goodness,’ her mum exclaimed, getting right into Faith’s personal space and peering down at the poor baby like it was some kind of rare species. ‘If that isn’t the cutest baby I’ve ever seen! Has she got Monty’s eyes?’

‘Hi, Mrs Forward,’ Faith smiled. ‘And thank you. Both Clancy and Mabel take after Monty. I barely got a look in. Hi, Henri, how are you?’

‘Hey. Congratulations,’ Henri said. ‘On your wedding and your two babies.’

‘Thanks. Pity you couldn’t make it back for the wedding.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ Since the non-event that was her own nuptials, she’d not been able to bring herself to attend anyone else’s, but she was going to have to get over that for Frankie and Logan’s. ‘Work’s pretty hectic certain times of the year. How’s Monty?’

‘Yeah, he’s great.’ Faith beamed—it seemed two kids under two hadn’t put a dampener on their romance at all. ‘He wasn’t able to get away from the farm yet, but he’ll be up in time for the Christmas Tree next weekend.’

‘Did your son stay with him?’

‘No. I’m not quite ready to leave my little man for more than a few hours. Clancy’s with my dad today—they were off to look at the sheep when I left, but I’m hoping he’ll have a nap soon and not get up to too much mischief.’

‘Who? Your dad or Clancy?’ Henri joked.

Faith laughed. ‘Maybe both?’

‘Can Henri hold Mabel?’ Fiona asked.

Faith looked puzzled as she gazed at all Henri was carrying. ‘If she wants to. I need to feed her soon, but maybe after that?’

Henri glared at her mother. Did she think that holding Faith’s newborn would make her clucky? That would be a miracle because she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. ‘How about I carry your bag instead and we get Mabel out of the sun?’

‘Thanks.’ Faith looked like a load had been lifted as Henri reached inside the car and retrieved a giant nappy bag, then hauled it over her shoulder without dropping even one flower on the ground.

The moment they stepped inside the hall, Faith was mobbed with hugs.

‘Where’s Clancy?’

‘Ooh, look at her hair!’

‘How was the drive up here?’

‘So wonderful that Ryan and Grant are going to give your two a little cousin soon.’

The poor baby almost got squashed in the stampede. You’d think Faith had returned from a mission to the moon, but Henri wasn’t complaining—it took the heat off her for a bit.

While her mother went into the kitchen to put the pavlova into the fridge, she exchanged hellos with a few people and unloaded the rest of what they’d brought onto the wooden trestle tables that were set up in rows across the hall.

‘Are these the same tables that were here when we used to come to town for Brownies?’ she asked Tilley, who was laying out tiny pots of glue.

Her sister nodded.

Henri recalled thinking they were on their last legs twenty years ago. ‘Why hasn’t the shire replaced them, or someone fundraised for new ones?’

Tilley shrugged. ‘Guess there’s always something else that takes precedence.’

Before Henri and Tilley could say anything else on the matter, there were more exclamations of excitement as four women, or rather one woman, two teenagers and another baby, entered the building. Henri looked up to see it was Simone McArthur—she couldn’t remember her new married name—and her daughter Harriet, who was holding Simone’s youngest, who had to be about two now. What on earth was she called? Lord knows her mum had probably told her a million times.

‘Ooh hasn’t Celeste grown,’ cooed Esther Burton, going over to pluck the little girl from her big sister’s arms. ‘Hello, my gorgeous little great niece.’

It was still weird to see Esther out and about. As long as Henri could remember she’d been agoraphobic, imprisoned on her farm in grief after the loss of her daughter, but all that had changed two Christmases ago and she’d been making amazing progress ever since.

‘So good to see you all,’ said someone else. Henri couldn’t see who as the women had swamped the new arrivals in much the same way they had Faith.

‘Couldn’t miss the annual wreath-making,’ Simone said, kissing and hugging all her old friends. ‘You can take the girl out of Bunyip Bay, but you can’t take Bunyip Bay out of the girl. Besides, I couldn’t wait till Christmas to see Faith.’

The two of them embraced then Simone snatched Mabel out of Faith’s arms. ‘Oh, my goodness, I could just eat her right up.’

Before long, the fuss over Bunyip Bay’s returned residents died down and everyone began crafting. There had to be fifty women, ranging in age from Mabel at only a couple of months to Dolce who was well into her nineties. As Henri watched the older woman’s hand shaking as she cut the stems off her flowers, she thought of the rocking chair Liam was making and smiled as she imagined her joy when she saw it.

It wasn’t just wreaths they were working on; some women were making earrings, others macrame gifts and a few painting pots for plants. The annual Christmas wreath-making session was basically just another excuse to get together, chat with the girls and celebrate the year that had been. The only requirement was that you brought a dish for afternoon tea and left the hall having created something.

Mostly Henri just listened and tried her best not to make a total disaster of her wreath, but inevitably the conversation eventually came around to her. Or more specifically her and Liam.

Secrets were practically illegal in small towns, therefore everyone wanted to know the details. Not only how they’d got together, but also things that they’d always been curious about him.

‘Has he told you much about his family?’

‘I get the impression they’re dead.’

‘Either that or he’s estranged.’

‘No, I’m sure he mentioned once that his parents had died in a car accident.’

‘And what about what he did before buying the pub?’

‘I heard he travelled.’

‘Surely he must have done something besides that?’

Most of the women clearly adored Liam, but there were a few snobs who didn’t really rate him because of his profession. Whatever their stance, the questions and statements came one after the other and were directed at Henri as if she might have all the answers about the slightly mysterious publican.

But she had just as many questions of her own. Although she’d spent a lot of time with Liam over the last week, she still felt like she’d only touched the surface. Every time she asked him about himself, he told her something minor and deflected the conversation back to her. She couldn’t work out whether he was being cagey on purpose, or the listening skills he’d acquired at the pub meant he’d forgotten how to talk about himself. She didn’t even really know what he’d done before he came to Australia.

‘Um … to be honest,’ she said now, ‘we haven’t spent a lot of time talking. When we’re alone, well …’

Thankfully, she didn’t have to spell it out. Her cheeks burned as she imagined exactly what it would be like to sleep with Liam. She knew he was a good kisser, and ever since she’d seen his hands smoothing down Dolce’s rocking chair, she’d had visions of exactly what they’d feel like skating over her naked skin. Despite the fans spinning madly (and loudly) overhead, the hall suddenly felt like an oven. She could feel sweat in every crevice and her bra was soaking. It was surprising the flowers weren’t wilting. Perhaps a good air conditioner in the hall was even more pressing than new tables.

‘I’m just going to the bathroom,’ she said, pushing back against the table to stand. ‘Ouch!’

She winced as she saw a large splinter of wood poking out of her thumb. Dammit, she knew these tables were dangerous, but maybe this was her punishment for lying to everyone.

‘You okay?’ asked Stella.

‘Just a splinter. I’ll be fine,’ she replied, then headed into the bathroom to try and get it out.

To Henri’s relief, the women didn’t push her for any further information about Liam when she returned, but that didn’t mean she stopped thinking about him.