Magpie's Bend Read online

  ‘No shit, Sherlock. That’s what happens when you take on a snake. Lucky you didn’t get bitten too.’

  He shook his head sharply. ‘You stay here. I’ll race home and grab my car. Call the vet.’ Toby charged down the hill without waiting for a reply, leaving her a little stunned by the whole thing.

  She was normally good in a crisis. What the hell just happened?

  Lara kneeled in the dirt. Stupid, sweet Basil. She swore, stroking the kelpie’s soft ears. He wagged his tail, as if he knew he was all she had; the one living creature who noticed and cared whether or not she made it home at night.

  Her voice shook as she called her friend Amy, who ran the veterinary clinic in Hamilton and told her to expect them.

  Toby’s little buzz box roared up the hill. He sprang out and lifted Basil, placing him on Lara’s lap in the passenger seat.

  The windmill creaked as they set off.

  ‘Even if we get him to the vet in time and he survives the antivenom, he’ll probably be soft in the head. I’ve seen it at the farm,’ said Lara.

  ‘Optimist, aren’t you? We’ll have him there in good time at least.’ Toby gave her a gentler smile. ‘Basil looks like a tough bloke. Bet he’s a natural with the livestock,’ he said, clearly trying to distract her.

  Lara shook her head. ‘Dumb as a box of hammers. And if he miraculously pulls through, you’ll be able to see the butterflies floating around behind his eyeballs.’

  She knew she probably sounded cruel. Heartless even. But she was damned if she was going to cry in front of a virtual stranger. Each word was another nail in the fence of self-protection.

  Lara shot a sideways glance at Toby as they drove towards Hamilton. If he thought she was a heartless bitch, he was pretty good at keeping his opinion to himself. Sam would have blamed her for the whole thing. Told her exactly what she’d done wrong, said wrong or thought wrong to bring this on herself.

  She counted to ten as she let out a long, silent breath, remembering the night Basil had come into her life. The very same night she thought Sam had taken Evie for good. The same night her ex-husband had finally got what he deserved. Her eyes prickled. She forced the memories aside, striving for clinical detachment.

  Blubbering wasn’t going to get them there any faster, and from the way Basil’s tail had stopped wagging, and Toby’s pace had quickened, she needed to focus now more than ever.

  Ten

  Toby’s body cooled quickly and he felt gooseflesh puckering his skin as they drove towards Hamilton. Basil barely stirred now. It didn’t look good.

  Despite Lara’s earlier bluster, Toby had known her flippant words were a bluff. The rolling green paddocks and massive red gum trees were a blur as he tried to think of the right thing to say.

  He pulled up next to the veterinary clinic and hurried around to Lara’s side of the car. She too had goosebumps on top of goosebumps. Extra layers wouldn’t go astray right about now, he thought, planning to check the boot for spare jumpers as soon as Basil was seen to.

  Basil barely stirred as Toby picked him up. Only a faint wag of his tail resonated through his limp body.

  Lara strode ahead to the clinic, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as she wrenched it open for Toby.

  The vet led them down a sterile-looking hallway and instructed Toby to put Basil on the stainless-steel table. He lowered him gently.

  Vulnerability was written in the grip of Lara’s arms around her torso, her fingertips pressing white orbs into her upper arms. He stood beside her. He wanted to draw her into him and rub her back, but something told him it wouldn’t go down well.

  ‘Tell me straight, Amy. What are his chances?’

  The vet shone a torch into Basil’s eyes and pushed a stethoscope against the kelpie’s chest. Her ‘tsk’ reverberated through the room.

  ‘Well, you’re a nurse, so there’s no hiding the fact it’ll be touch and go, Lara. And it was a tiger snake, right?’

  Lara and Toby concurred. There had been no mistaking the stripes on the snake’s back, or the yellow belly.

  ‘We’ll use a multivalent antivenom anyway, covers all types of snakes. You happy to go ahead?’ asked the vet gently. Lara shoved her hands in her pockets, giving a silent but emphatic nod that was at odds with her earlier words. As he jogged back to the car and checked the boot, Toby wondered what other contradictions lingered underneath Lara McIntyre’s brusque exterior.

  He was in luck. Two jumpers were folded neatly beside a wide-brimmed hat and a picnic rug. Toby tugged on an old rugby jumper, saving the nicer fleecy one for Lara, and walked briskly back into the clinic. Amy had shaved Basil’s leg and was putting a cannula into the front of his shin.

  The jumper was big on Lara, but even with the extra layer, he could see her shivering. Shock?

  ‘I can stay, fetch some brekky from the bakery and then drive you home?’

  She shook her head, her gaze locked onto her dog. ‘I’ll stay a while. Diana will pick me up. You’ve got a newspaper to put together.’

  It pained him to leave her like this, but she was right. He’d taken a morning off for the shop, he couldn’t afford to skip more work. He hesitated and scribbled his number down on a piece of paper. She gave hers in return. ‘Call me if you need me,’ he said, hoping she understood that he could—and would—be there for her.

  Lara still shivered as she sank into the passenger seat of Diana’s car. The leather was cold on her bare legs, and even the four-wheel drive’s heaters couldn’t shift the chill in her bones. The morning had gone from bad to worse after Toby left. Lara was accustomed to medical emergencies, but she’d felt completely useless when Basil’s heart rate had slowed, and he began vomiting all over the examination table. Recognising the signs of cardiac arrest hadn’t made it any easier to watch, and she was grateful for Amy’s rapid response.

  ‘An anaphylactic reaction to the antivenom,’ Amy had explained, after she’d revived and stabilised Basil.

  Lara stared out the car window. The houses gave way to paddocks.

  ‘So, it’s still touch and go?’ Diana’s gentle probing brought Lara back to the present.

  ‘Yep,’ said Lara, turning to her sister. ‘They’ve pumped him full of adrenaline, now it’s just a waiting game.’

  Diana grimaced.

  ‘If he’s anything like you, he’s a fighter, Lars.’

  They were silent for a moment.

  ‘Thanks for collecting me,’ Lara said.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Diana took her attention off the road again to give Lara another concerned look. She eyed the fleecy jumper Lara wore. ‘So, you’re running with Toby now?’

  Lara shook her head. ‘No, I bumped into him.’

  Even through her pain, Lara knew if she closed her eyes, she would be able to picture the two of them at the windmill, shoulder to shoulder. If she’d turned ever so slightly, her lips would have brushed his. And the worst thing was, she’d wanted them to.

  She swallowed the thought down. She couldn’t think of that. Not now.

  ‘And was Toby much use, or was it like when Mrs Beggs collapsed?’

  Lara bit her lip, shaking her head again at Diana’s question. ‘No, not at all. He was great.’

  As the words left her mouth, she realised how useful he’d been. Calm, decisive and resourceful. She’d been the one frozen by fear.

  Damn snakes.

  Diana kept up a steady stream of conversation as she drove them back to Bridgefield. On any other morning, Lara would have laughed at the titbits of information from Diana’s busy household, been amused by little Leo offering their poddy calves toast for breakfast or sympathised over Pete’s latest dramas with his stock agency staff. On a normal morning, she would have quizzed Diana on fundraising ideas for the general store, or what she needed to bring to meat-packing day, but Lara couldn’t think beyond the vet’s final words.

  Rough night ahead.

  Not out of the woods.

  Better than no chance.

>   Before long Diana had driven down Whitfield Lane, veered around Magpie’s Bend, and turned onto Duck Hole Flat Road. They were home already. The sight of Basil’s empty kennel hurt more than she expected.

  Diana tapped the steering wheel.

  ‘Maybe you should call in sick? Give yourself a day off for once?’

  Lara flopped back against the car seat. ‘What, and stare at the phone all day, waiting for Amy to call? I’d rather be working,’ she said. ‘It’s seniors’ exercise class today anyway, there’d be a mass protest if I cancelled.’ She climbed out of the car. ‘Thanks for the lift, Diana.’

  ‘No worries.’ Her sister gave her a sympathetic smile and conducted a seventy-three point turn. ‘Let me know when you hear from the vet.’

  Lara’s feet felt heavy on the steps. She lifted the lavender pot, slipped the key from its hiding place and into the heavy lock and went inside to wash away the morning.

  Yoga mats criss-crossed the carpet in the nursing centre’s multi-purpose room, with soft instrumental music holding the beat for the final routine in the Move It or Lose It class.

  Lara broke her warrior pose at the front of the class to check her notes.

  Downward Dog or Peaceful Warrior?

  With her mind spinning between Basil, the general store and Toby, this morning she was struggling to remember the routine.

  The snake was an omen, she decided. Lara’s cheeks burned as she recalled how right it had felt to be tucked in close to Toby, knowing she would have kissed him if the snake hadn’t intervened. The list of exercise moves blurred in front of her. She looked at the sea of expectant faces awaiting her instructions.

  ‘Righto, let’s move into a squat and see how long we can hold it for,’ she said.

  The crowd murmured and she heard a quiet ‘pffft’ noise as the class lowered their weight and shifted into position.

  There was a snigger. Giggles rippled across the room.

  ‘Better turn that music up to drown out the sound effects,’ came a dry voice. Lara turned to see an older man receive an elbow in the ribs from his red-faced wife.

  Lara’s phone illuminated as she upped the stereo’s volume. It took every scrap of professionalism to ignore the incoming call and finish the class.

  She whipped around the room afterwards, rolling up yoga mats, stuffing exercise bands back into the cupboard and moving the hand-weights to the side of the room.

  She decided on just a peek at her mobile, but a hand landed on her arm as she reached the equipment table. Lara sprang backwards, knocking a tower of CDs to the ground.

  ‘Gosh, you spook easily today, Lara,’ said Denise. ‘Now, I didn’t realise until I got home, but we had some of the Bowerings’ mail mixed in with ours this morning.’ Denise pulled two envelopes from her handbag.

  Lara took the letters. ‘Sorry.’

  Her phone vibrated and flashed on the benchtop again, but before Lara could snatch it up, the older woman leaned in closer, lowering her voice.

  ‘We’re all set to buy three shares for the general store too. Silent partners, mind you. Jim doesn’t want people to think we’re flashing cash about. How is Mrs Beggs, by the way? Surely she’ll be home soon?’

  ‘She’s doing okay,’ said Lara, wishing she could frog-march the kind lady out the door. ‘Look, I don’t have my shop notebook here,’ she inched towards the door as she spoke, ‘but I’ll add your name to the list, Denise. Thanks.’

  Lara’s phone flashed again. She herded the last of the stragglers outside and waved.

  Three missed calls, two from Hamilton area codes and one from a mobile. Amy the vet was first up.

  ‘No news, just touching base to say Basil’s still hanging in there,’ she said. The update was a relief after the drama of the morning.

  Lara blew out a shaky breath as the next message came through.

  Mrs Beggs sounded more like her usual self.

  ‘Howdy, Lara. Greg called, and we’ve got some serious interest in the shop. The family from Warrnambool. How good is that? I’m home from hospital, how about you rustle up some of those bikkies I love and I’ll give you the low-down in person.’ Lara’s shoulders sank further at the thought of the rowdy family taking over. It was definitely worth a batch of sultana-and-oat crunchies to get the inside scoop.

  Lara felt her face grow warm as she listened to the final message.

  ‘Hey Lara, this is Toby. I know I could walk over and ask this question, but I …’ He paused. ‘Just checking to see how Basil’s doing. I meant what I said, call me if I can do anything to help.’

  Lara locked the phone and slipped it into her pocket. She remembered how far she’d come on her own. The last thing she needed was to throw away her independence and rely on somebody else, no matter how genuine he seemed or the attraction she felt.

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  Totally, definitely not a good idea.

  Toby hit the delete button and watched an entire paragraph disappear in a brief second. He normally smashed out 500-word articles over a cup of coffee, but no matter what he did, this current article was worse than a dog’s breakfast.

  Primary-school students could write smoother sentences than this, he thought. He cracked his knuckles but again his fingers hovered over the keyboard, unable to find the right words. It was an update on the Save the Shop campaign, outlining the new committee Lara had formed after the town meeting. The story’s premise had punch, and there was a bubbling energy among the people he had interviewed so far. Everyone except his neighbour seemed to think it was a good idea.

  He stared at his computer. Was it the story, or the woman at the centre of it that had him fumbling over his words? He looked down at the mobile phone—no missed calls—and then out the glass-fronted office window.

  If he wheeled his desk chair a little closer to the glass, he could see the corner of the Bush Nursing Centre. A group of sporty-looking seniors had filed out a few hours ago and the foot traffic in and out those automatic sliding doors was consistent.

  A runner, a mother, a nurse, a volunteer and a farmer. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to be impressed by a delivery of flowers, even if there had been a florist nearby. Chewing on the end of a pen, Toby realised he looked forward to seeing more of Lara McIntyre.

  Eleven

  The next few days flew past, with Lara blazing a path between Bridgefield and Hamilton for regular visits to see Basil. His recovery hadn’t been as smooth as Amy the vet, or Lara, would have liked. Only Evie’s imminent arrival remained a shining light on the horizon. Friday afternoon’s volunteer shift felt like it was over in the blink of an eye, such was the flow of customers through the general store. Another prospective buyer swanned around pointing out faults and deliberating on unnecessary changes; there were trays of salad sandwiches to be made for an impromptu luncheon of the town’s Stitch and Bitch sewing club; and more than a dozen new shareholders for the general store meant they were well on their way to the asking price.

  Lara walked through the shop, switching off appliances and turning out lights. Every bone in her body campaigned for a hot bath, even though that wouldn’t happen until after she’d been to see Basil, but something made her pause at the foot of the staircase.

  Lara dashed up the stairs, an idea forming as she walked around the small flat, trying to formulate a way to capitalise on the vacant property. Hadn’t a couple along the Great Ocean Road raffled off their cafe, selling tickets for $10 and raising well in excess of the market value? She recalled the news articles and even the international attention it had attracted. By the time Lara pulled up outside the vet surgery, the idea had become a fully formed concept.

  Lara’s enthusiastic knocking set off a chorus of barks and meows from the patients.

  Amy opened the back door, her blue scrubs covered in animal fur.

  ‘Hey Lara, thought you were going to stand me up. You look perkier than yesterday,’ she said, shutting the door behind Lara and fix
ing her with a wicked look. ‘Did you get lucky?’ Lara narrowed her eyes. ‘Seriously? Thought you’d know me better after all these years, Ames.’

  Amy shrugged. ‘You’re not dead, you know.’

  Lara ignored her friend’s pointed look. ‘I’ve had a brainwave for the general store fundraiser, and I’m pretty sure it’ll generate some statewide interest. Fancy buying a raffle ticket to rent the upstairs apartment for a year? Close to work, quiet setting …’ Lara watched the vet carefully to see her response.

  Amy’s enthusiasm was encouraging. ‘Heck yeah. We’re always looking for affordable housing for our vet nurses and locums. How much would you sell tickets for?’

  Lara considered it as they walked down the hallway.

  ‘Maybe fifty dollars each? We’d need to make it affordable, but still worthwhile.’

  ‘Well, at that rate, I’d pitch in two hundred at least, and I wouldn’t be the only one. Imagine! Two hundred bucks for a year’s rent? Amazing.’

  Lara’s smile broadened. It was exactly the response she’d wanted, and she could only hope that it would be as well received by the rest of the committee.

  ‘Of course we’d have to give a full refund if we didn’t raise enough to buy the shop, plus the tenant would need to take care of their own utilities, but it’s an idea.’

  ‘It’s genius, that’s what it is, Lara.’

  Lara walked past the crates of canine patients, pausing at the black-and-tan kelpie in the back corner.

  Basil wagged his tail as Lara opened the cage door.

  ‘Still a bit flat,’ she said, stroking his soft brown ears. ‘Any sign of kidney failure?’

  ‘We’re pumping as many fluids through him as possible to hopefully avoid that. He’s hanging in there. See that?’ The vet pointed to Basil’s mouth. ‘The venom works in funny ways. It’s too early to tell whether it’s a permanent paralysis, but he might always have a droopy lip.’

  Lara looked at the spot where he’d been bitten. It clearly drooped lower than the opposite side, giving him a goofy, lopsided expression.