Bottlebrush Creek Page 6

  Rob frowned, shaking his head. ‘Don’t listen to a word of it, Ange.’

  The edge to Rob’s voice came as a surprise. She slipped a hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Meeting his old friends was a step in the right direction. But one day soon she’d need to get to the bottom of this rift between Rob, his father and the twin brother whose name he never even spoke aloud. And then they’d have a clean start in their new home.

  ‘Credit card?’ Rob held out his hand after he’d peeled the backing off the sticker.

  Angie passed him the card and watched as he used it to smooth bubbles out of the black vinyl lettering. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he worked, the picture of concentration. She stepped back to admire the overall result, reading aloud the signwriting on the side of Rob’s new work ute.

  ‘Bottlebrush Building Company. Call for jobs big and small. Looks pretty snazzy.’

  Rob cocked his head left then right, fighting a nonchalant expression for all of a few seconds before his pride shone through. ‘Not too shabby. Better than Jonesy’s Odd Jobs, I suppose.’

  Angie socked him lightly in the arm. ‘It was never going to be an odd-jobs business. You’re a builder through and through,’ she said. ‘We should celebrate.’

  ‘What do you have in mind? We’ve got dinner at the pub in an hour.’

  ‘I can think of a quick way to mark the momentous occasion of opening your own business,’ she murmured, glancing towards the caravan. Rob dipped his head, the rough stubble scratching her face gently as his lips touched hers.

  ‘I like the sound of this, especially after last night’s false start. Lead the way.’

  They strode hand in hand towards the shed, checking the pram parked under the cottage verandah. Claudia had slept through their washing, polishing and branding of Rob’s new work ute, her little chest continuing to rise and fall in a steady rhythm under the blanket.

  Angie crept away from the pram as Rob opened the shed door, both of them holding their breath as the hinges creaked. Angie suppressed a chuckle as they turned in unison to the pram.

  ‘Not even a stir,’ she whispered to Rob. They tiptoed across the shed, taking extra care to open the caravan door slowly, and set about celebrating their new beginning.

  The Port Fairview Pub was a melting pot of residents and visitors, from fishermen in white gumboots who looked like they’d stepped straight off a crayfish trawler, to families eating in the open-plan dining room underneath a ceiling strung with craypots, dried starfish and seahorses.

  Rob waved to a couple near the bar as he guided Angie through the crowd. It took them several minutes to cover the twenty metres, thanks to a string of hearty welcomes from old acquaintances delighted to have him back in town.

  ‘I never knew you were the long-lost son of Port Fairview,’ Angie said as they reached Brett and the smiling woman beside him.

  Brett’s wife dived past Angie’s outstretched hand and drew her into a hug instead. ‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Angie! Rosa hasn’t let the craft group hear the end of it, either, told us all about your award-winning cakes and scones. She’s told us you’re a shoo-in for the champion baker at next year’s show.’ Tessa laughed at Angie’s stunned expression. ‘Mothers-in-law, hey?’

  ‘Thanks, Tessa, lovely to meet you too. Brett’s told me all about your baking too, though I’m not going to be much of a partner in crime until the renovations are finished. There’s no oven in the shed house or the caravan,’ Angie said.

  ‘I probably bake enough for the both of us anyway,’ Tessa said with a giggle. Her cute earrings and the colourful dress wrapped around Tessa’s voluptuous figure were like little bursts of happiness, and Angie warmed to her instantly. Tessa found them a table and upended a bag of Barbie dolls onto it. Claudia and Scarlett clamoured for the toys.

  ‘Play nicely, Claud,’ Angie said.

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s more than enough for them to share,’ said Tessa, pulling board books and an Etch A Sketch from another bag. ‘That should keep them occupied for, oh, a minute or two.’

  ‘She’s had trouble keeping her teeth to herself, that’s all,’ said Angie, preparing to be greeted with the hypervigilance that usually accompanied this admission.

  ‘They’ll be fine. Our Scarlett isn’t an angel, either.’

  Angie relaxed into her chair, liking Brett’s wife more and more with every minute.

  She stole a look at Rob. He was leaning against the bar, head and shoulders taller than most of the other patrons, deep in conversation with an older gentleman. His hand gestures and facial expressions were animated.

  That mouth.

  Angie felt her face flush at the memory of their opportunistic encounter in the caravan while Claudia had napped that afternoon. Buying the cottage and having Rob living under the same roof was paying dividends for their love life.

  A cough broke through Angie’s thoughts and she blushed at the perceptive look on Tessa’s face.

  ‘Ah, young love. Rob’s a sweetheart, isn’t he? I remember he was the quiet one in high school—all the girls were drawn to his brother Max. Look who’s laughing now, hey?’

  ‘He’s great. Rob, I mean, not Max. I don’t actually know Rob’s brother. He’s been overseas since we met.’ It was hard to know what to make of Rob’s twin, but the more time she spent in Port Fairview, the more she wondered what Rob hadn’t told her.

  Tessa scanned the room and leaned in close so her hair curtained them from the room. ‘They used to be thick as thieves, but Rob’s not a forgive-and-forget type of guy, is he?’

  ‘I don’t know, I haven’t really known him long enough to say,’ admitted Angie, taking a sip from her cider. The Rob she knew was kind and gentle—she’d never seen another side of him. It was almost embarrassing to admit that they’d spent so little time together before their surprise pregnancy.

  ‘Brett used to be friends with both of them, but … I don’t like to gossip.’ Tessa trailed off as the men joined them.

  Angie glanced at the little girls, pleased they were playing nicely, then looked back at Tessa. ‘So, Tessa, what do you do with yourself when you’re not whipping up a storm in the kitchen?’

  Tessa fiddled with her unusual necklace. ‘Well, these days I’m mostly looking after Scarlett. But I’ve got a little craft business online, more of a hobby than anything but it keeps me busy enough.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘Brett’s folks own the dairy a couple of clicks past your new place, so we’re often driving past. Your cottage is going to be beautiful when it’s done.’

  ‘Thanks. I know it needs a lot of work, but it was an easy one to fall in love with. It’s been great for us already. Living in the same place, working on something together, has already brought us even closer together.’

  ‘I can see! You can barely keep your eyes off him. Yeah, it’ll be a good challenge. So much easier when there’s a tradie in the house, too. My friend’s renovating an apartment with her white-collar boyfriend and she says it’s like a bad episode of The Block, except with more swearing and a hell of a lot of hammer throwing.’

  Angie sipped her drink. ‘Watch this space—there’s plenty of time for hammer throwing.’

  The conversation flowed as they ate and Angie was surprised to look around two hours later and discover they were the last customers in the dining room.

  ‘We’d better get these little rug rats to bed,’ said Rob, picking up a sleepy Claudia and carrying her out to the car. Brett followed with Scarlett while Angie and Tessa ambled behind, planning a playdate for their daughters.

  ‘You know you’ll have the cricket and footy clubs knocking on Rob’s door and the CWA after you before long,’ said Tessa.

  Angie laughed. ‘Between the new business, the house and his vintage motorbikes, Rob doesn’t have time for any more hobbies. And as much as I loved all the volunteer stuff in Eden Creek, it was starting to get a bit crazy,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll need to lay down the law
, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Rob rolled over in bed, making the van sway. He still hadn’t managed to set the stabiliser jacks to the perfect height and small movements rippled through the whole structure.

  Angie stirred. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘4.35 a.m. Can’t sleep either?’ Rob said.

  She snuggled in. ‘Nah, too excited about the cottage. I’m itching to get in there with a crowbar.’

  He laughed, pleased she was as excited as he was. ‘Just don’t go ripping any weatherboards off yet, cos you were right—I’ve got more building work coming my way than I know what to do with.’

  Angie stretched. ‘I really liked Tessa. She’s a sweetie.’

  Rob yawned and nodded. ‘Had a feeling you two would gel.’

  ‘She makes the coolest earrings. Did you see those dalmatian ones she was wearing?’

  Rob absent-mindedly toyed with her hair. ‘Can’t say I noticed. You two looked pretty wrapped up in conversation all night.’

  ‘She said something about you and Max.’

  Rob rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. ‘Nothing to tell. Max leaves a trail of destruction wherever he goes. He’s better off in Spain, or Portugal, or wherever the hell he is.’

  ‘Surely he’s not all bad? Your mum showed me photos of the two of you together as kids. You looked inseparable when you were younger.’

  ‘Just because we’re twins, doesn’t mean we’re alike. Let’s focus on you and me and Claud, and our little cottage.’

  Rob turned toward the wall and tried to plan his week’s work. But try as he might, the snatches of information about Max his mum had forced on him clawed their way to the forefront. Max had bounced from country to country—picking olives in Brazil, becoming a horseback trail guide in Patagonia, working at quarantine feedlots in Uruguay—never sticking at one job for long.

  Max can be tango dancing in Timbuktu for all I care, he told himself. I’m the one who’s got the balls to take on the cottage, not him.

  Eleven

  The air was brisk and salty. A flock of cawing seagulls streaked across the sky and settled in front of the fish-and-chip shop as Angie and Rob walked down Port Fairview’s main street. Rob waved to the familiar faces of townsfolk he had grown up with, trying not to let his quick lunch break evaporate into catch-up conversations. It feels good to be back in town, he thought, nodding at an old primary-school teacher.

  ‘Just like when I walk down the street in my hometown, Bridgefield. You know everyone and everyone knows you,’ Angie murmured as they escaped from one of Rosa’s friends selling raffle tickets outside the post office.

  Rob smiled at Angie. With her auburn curls tamed into a bun, her freckles unleashed without their normal veil of foundation and her curvy body tucked into a cream worker’s shirt, she looked less like a beautician and more like a woman about to embark on a renovation project. It suited her down to the ground.

  ‘I know. I think Claudia’s lapping up the attention though,’ he grinned, watching the little hand waving regally to passers-by from her pram. Rob’s appetite surged as he held open the door, the smell of food frying engulfing him.

  ‘Hey, Jonesy. Good to see you back, mate—you’ve timed it perfectly for the start of cricket season.’ The man behind the counter moved quickly to wrap the mound of steaming chips.

  ‘Not this season. Brett’s already tried to rope me in for this weekend’s match against Cavendish. Too much to do on the home front this year. Maybe next season,’ Rob said.

  ‘Fair enough. I’m guessing this is your lunch, then?’ The man handed over the paper parcel. ‘$15 will cover it today.’

  Angie looked up from her wallet in surprise. ‘For two pieces of flake, chips and potato cakes? I like the sound of these Port Fairview prices!’

  ‘Consider it a welcome-home special. And if you change your mind about cricket …’

  ‘You’ll be the first to know,’ said Rob.

  It’s been a long time between overs, thought Rob. But it felt good to be in demand. Angie didn’t seem opposed to becoming a cricket widow next summer, either.

  They ate lunch on the riverbank, the hot treat disappearing quickly. He checked his watch, before kissing Angie and Claudia on the cheek and heading off for the afternoon’s work.

  ‘See you at home tonight. Love you two,’ he said.

  A strong south-westerly had picked up by the time Angie and Claudia returned to their car. Seagulls flapped valiantly against the breeze, takeaway coffee cups tumbled across the bustling main street and shopkeepers pulled their sale racks inside before clothes and bric-a-brac were blown across the footpath. Angie spotted the preschool by the town green, its brightly painted facade exactly how Rob had described it.

  ‘Come on, Claud. Let’s get you signed up.’

  They strode through the bright foyer. The Wiggles’ greatest hits blared through the double doors, and judging by the raucous noise, the afternoon crazies were in full swing. In the office, a woman was leaning over the unattended front counter. There was a dark-haired child by her side, and a newborn strapped to her chest—when she turned, Angie felt all three sets of bright blue eyes fix on her and Claudia.

  ‘Any idea who’s running this place?’ the woman said, giving the bell another sharp shake and flicking her glossy black hair over her shoulders.

  ‘Not a clue. Are you signing your little one up for next year too?’

  ‘Yes, if someone was here to give us the paperwork. I’m Bobbi. I’d head in there and ask for it myself, but these two terrors have got horrid gastro, so I shouldn’t really take them into the playroom. This is Jayden and the little one’s Oscar.’

  Angie took an involuntary step backwards and glanced at the woman’s outfit: ivory jeans and a floaty white top. Angie didn’t ever trust herself to wear white, let alone with a sick baby strapped to her chest. She’s either really foolish or really confident. Angie snuck a quick glance at the woman’s perfect nails, expertly straightened hair and toned physique. Definitely the latter category. Angie wondered what it would be like to be that comfortable in her own skin.

  ‘I’m Angie and this is Claudia. So I guess she and Jayden will be in the same three-year-old preschool class next year.’

  Bobbi flashed her a warm smile. ‘How fabulous.’

  They traded phone numbers while waiting for the preschool teacher, then walked back out together, chatting in the sunshine.

  ‘Let’s catch up before preschool starts. Or, if you fancy a running buddy, I’m about to start a couch-to-5k program.’

  Angie felt a twinge of self-consciousness, as if she’d accidentally been picked to go in the sports team with all the popular girls, before they realised she was on the pudgy side and not particularly coordinated.

  ‘Do I look like a runner?’ she said.

  Bobbi laughed and slipped a business card into Angie’s hand. ‘Gotta start somewhere. It’s a great program for beginners, and even easier with a personal trainer at your side.’ She looked Angie up and down.

  Angie’s face burned. She probably thinks I’ll never come. ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’

  ‘Trust me, I’ll have you in a bikini by the end of summer. Your hubby won’t know what hit him, and you’ll come to love the buzz from a good run.’

  Their budget wouldn’t stretch to a gym membership any time soon, and personal trainers didn’t come cheap either. Angie quickly grasped the excuse. ‘We’re renovating, so it’s not a good time for extra expenses. Thanks anyway,’ she said, lifting Claudia onto her hip.

  Bobbi’s arms were lean; there was not a scrap of fat on her body. They’d only just met, but Angie could tell the woman was the epitome of willpower. She probably has more discipline in her little finger than I’ve got in my whole body. Her admiration for Bobbi kicked up a notch.

  ‘Well, running’s the cheapest form of exercise going around. How about the first five weeks are on me, then we’ll go from there. I want to build my business up, so you�
��ll be doing me a favour.’ She stuck out a hand.

  Claudia reached out and they all laughed as she shook Bobbi’s hand.

  Angie remembered her pledge to try a healthier approach. New town, new you, remember?

  ‘It’s a deal,’ said Bobbi.

  Angie felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she and Claudia walked back to the car. New friends, new house project, Rob’s business was taking off and a fitness plan had landed in her lap. Moving had been a good decision.

  Twelve

  Angie stretched her legs out, and switched the phone to her left hand to jot down prices on the notepad. Three sessions of walking and running with Bobbi this week and she was yet to ‘love the burn’, as Bobbi had so breezily predicted. But she’d stuck with it so far, which was two sessions more than any other fitness kick she’d attempted in the last decade.

  Angie clicked the pen impatiently as the man on the phone continued his spiel about the digging machine they wanted to hire.

  ‘Okay, well, that’s a lot of money for a digger. I’ll let Rob know and call back if we want to go ahead, thanks.’

  She hung up the phone, her calf muscles protesting as she walked across the yard, trying to get her head around the upcoming expenses. She didn’t have the budget spreadsheet in front of her, but she sensed they hadn’t factored these figures into the early forecast. She shuddered, hoping Rob had a better idea.

  Claudia looked up from the castle she was building in her new sandpit.

  ‘Mum’s got to make a few more phone calls, then we’ll go see your new little friends Jayden and Oscar at the music classes, okay? Scarlett and Tessa will be there too,’ Angie said.

  Claudia nodded happily. Angie made the rest of the calls on her list and drove into town, satisfied she had all the information they needed about the new septic tank, and quotes lined up with three local glaziers. Hopefully, the glass costings would be more in line with what they’d expected than the machinery to clear the yard and trench in new garden taps.