Outback Dreams (38 page)

They'd raised an impressive twenty-one thousand dollars, and although Faith wasn't sure that would put her in the contest-winning stakes, it would be a valuable contribution to the charity. And really, that's what mattered.

‘Is it that time of year again?'

‘Uh-huh.' Ruby nodded. ‘And some of the ladies who have been on the committee for years want to take a step back. I had so much fun helping you that I thought maybe I could offer my services for this as well. Beats sitting around watching bad television every night.'

Faith didn't want to crush Ruby's enthusiasm, but the Undies Run—held each year on the weekend of the famous Bunyip Festival—was a big deal. It raised crucial money for the Hospital Auxiliary and she didn't know if she was the right person for the job in her current state of mind. Likely Ruby was only asking her to give her something else to focus on anyway.

‘I'll think about it,' she promised.

‘That's all I ask.' Ruby smiled and looked back to the court. ‘Now, do you need any help with these girls? I could take some of them to the other end for some one-on-one training if you'd like.'

‘Thanks. That would be fantastic.' As the girls came round again, Faith stood. Ruby had been such a great friend since Monty left, and Faith had been about as fun as an infectious disease. She hoped she wouldn't stay in this funk forever, but nothing she'd tried thus far had worked to get her out.

Everything she put her mind to reminded her of Monty. Every movie held memories of watching it with him—unless she resorted to romantic comedies—but quite aside from her lifetime distaste, they came with their own issues. If she took a walk across the farm, every little hill and tree reminded her of some mischief they'd got up to as children. Even here on the netball courts— which doubled as tennis courts in summer—her mind flashed with times they played sport together. Many a night she tried to recall a time when Monty didn't feature in her life, but that was impossible.

‘Okay, girls, time's up,' she shouted across the courts. Enough wallowing. ‘Ruby has been kind enough to offer to help us today, so I think we'll divide into a couple of groups.'

As with everything Ruby did, she turned out to be an excellent netball player and a patient and talented coach. With both Faith and Ruby instructing them, the girls trained hard and finished even more enthused for their Saturday game.

Afterwards, Ruby helped Faith collect the netballs and lock them away in the sports pavilion. ‘Thanks for letting me help. It was so much fun. Now, what say we treat ourselves to dinner and a drink at the pub? Promise it won't be a late one.'

How could she refuse after all Ruby had done? ‘Okay, you finally got me. Dinner and
one
drink.'

Ruby smiled like she'd just convinced her to hand over her life savings, and Faith made a silent vow to at least pretend to enjoy the few hours ahead.

‘They're the talk of the town right now. No one can believe how quickly Constable Noble cottoned on to them,' Frankie said, making elaborate gestures with her hands.

Faith twisted her bottle of beer round and round as she tried to feign interest in the conversation. It sounded like Frankie from the café had her eye on the new cop and that half the town were also smitten. The latest on the grapevine was that their new English lawman had busted two teens from good local families for a string of crimes around town.

Ruby, who didn't usually indulge in gossip, took another sip of her wine. ‘Their parents must be ropeable, but Drew obviously knows his stuff. We can all feel a lot safer knowing he's in town.'

Faith raised her eyebrow at the use of his first name, but none of the women seemed to notice.

‘Amen.' Frankie lifted her glass of rum and Coke. ‘I for one sleep better at night knowing he's not too far away.'

Ruby giggled in response. Faith tried to summon a smile, but the conversation had moved on by the time her lips even began to lift. She didn't understand the fascination with Drew Noble. Sure, he looked good in a uniform and his killer smile had the power to knock some women sideways, but it wasn't like there weren't equally good-looking men in these parts. She put it down to his accent.

‘What's all this laughter about?' Adam arrived at the table with a pint of beer and plonked himself down between Frankie and Ruby.

They burst into giggles again, and Adam looked to Faith for clarification. She shrugged and took another pull of her beer. Even if she wanted to fill him in, she'd only taken in part of what the girls were saying because, as usual, her heart and mind were elsewhere.

As if sensing they were losing her, Adam tried to drag her into conversation. ‘So I hear your dad might be going on a holiday soon.'

‘Uh-huh.' She nodded and took another gulp of beer. Empty plates sat on the table in front of them and her one drink was almost gone. She couldn't wait to escape. Part of her wished she could do a better job at feigning happiness, but her friends were trying to act as if life was normal when everything had changed for her.

No one had mentioned Monty in almost four weeks. It was as if he'd never even existed. They'd avoided the topic for her benefit but she desperately wanted to know if anyone had heard from him. She didn't think Ruby had, but surely Adam would have called or exchanged emails.

‘So, everyone, Faith's agreed to help me organise the Undies Run,' Ruby announced, smiling in Faith's direction.

‘That's fabulous,' Frankie did a little jig in her seat. ‘I love the Undies Run.'

Faith tried her best, but it was hard to get enthusiastic. She felt like a badly made jumper, ready to unravel at the slightest tug of a loose thread. She wondered how long her friends would persist with trying to draw her back into their circle. They chose their topics carefully, mindful not to speak about anything that might upset her.

Maybe they'd eventually give up and she'd end up like Esther Burton, holed up on the farm, sending other people out to do her shopping and only attempting to socialise on the odd occasion when people tried to visit her.

She found the idea depressingly appealing.

On Friday afternoon, Monty waited at the Mount Barker bus stop, squinting every time a vehicle came into view. With ten minutes to go until the scheduled arrival time, he paced back and forth, unable to keep still. He'd been restless ever since his mum had told him he was going to have visitors. Part of him couldn't wait for the company, but the other part of him worried about the responsibility.

He'd spent the day vacuuming his house so no such noise needed to pollute the place during Will and Pippa's stay. Even though Jenni had assured him Will was past it, he didn't want to risk either of them melting down while in his care. He'd never before spent two days with Will without his parents around; they had spent precious little time together at all during the last few years.

‘It's coming.' A woman in her early seventies hobbled forward and waved her hand excitedly towards the road. She looked as if she was waiting for grandchildren.

Monty stilled and followed her gaze as the TransWA bus loomed into view. Car doors slammed as people who'd been waiting in the car park got out to meet the bus. Everyone jostled for a spot closest to where the bus would pull in. Not normally the type to push through crowds, Monty planted his feet, not wanting to be pushed out of the way. The moment Will and Pippa got off he wanted them to see him. No room for panic from anyone.

The bus pulled into the stop and the doors peeled back, squeaking a little, as if they needed to be oiled. He glanced down the windows, scanning the full bus for Will and Pippa. People disembarked, rushing forward to meet friends or relatives. With each face that wasn't Will's or Pippa's, Monty's pulse raced a little more. His mum had called him after waving off the bus in Perth, so they had to be here. But doubt crept into his mind. Could something have happened on the way?

They were adults, he told himself. They might struggle with certain social situations and sometimes have difficulty functioning in the ‘normal' world, but they were probably smarter than everyone on the bus put together. Thanks to their parents' dedication to helping them adapt to a normal life, they'd progressed beyond expectation.

He shook himself as another person stepped off the bus.

What would I be like if
I
had children? Constantly stressing about what might go wrong
?

And then they were there—Pippa's smile placid and Will's expression serious as they helped each other down the steps. The air rushed back into Monty's lungs as he stepped forward to greet them.

‘Will, Pippa,' he called. ‘Over here.'

Relief flashed on Will's face as he located Monty in the now dwindling crowd. He lifted a hand to wave. His other one held Pippa's tightly.

Monty felt an uncharacteristic wave of emotion wash over him at the sight of them together, and he thought of his mum's declaration of happiness that Will had found the type of relationship she'd never imagined possible for him.

‘How are you? Good trip?' he asked as they stood by the side of the bus waiting for the driver to unload their bags.

‘We didn't fall,' Will said, and then he closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked to Pippa. ‘He meant the journey.'

She nodded and they smiled as if sharing an in-joke.

‘Yes, the journey,' Monty said. ‘Was it a good one?'

‘Oh, yes,' Pippa nodded. ‘The scenery was lovely and we spotted some rare birds as we passed through Kojonup.'

‘Awesome.' Monty took Pippa's bag as Will picked up his own. ‘I'm so glad you decided to come. The ute's this way.'

Will and Pippa squished in next to Monty for the twenty-kilometre drive to Clancy's Breakaway. He tried to make conversation. ‘Is there anything particular you would like to see or do this weekend? I could take you into Albany, or we could go farther afield and do the treetop walk at the Valley of the Giants.'

‘We just want to hang on the farm,' Will said. ‘See your animals, take some walks. We'd like to have a bonfire one night.'

‘We can do that.' Monty had found a place between a few large gum trees not far from the house that looked to be perfect for a bonfire, but there hadn't been any point going to all that effort for only one person. ‘I think I even have some marshmallows somewhere.'

‘This is Pippa's first time on a farm. And it may as well be mine too for all I can remember of ours when I was a kid,' Will announced.

‘But Will's told me all the stories you told him about life on the land, and we can't wait to experience it for ourselves,' Pippa added, her tone excited.

Their statements surprised Monty. He'd never once imagined that Will might have felt he had missed out by not living on the family farm, but now that fact seemed odd in itself. Of course Will would have missed it; he loved everything to do with nature.

His guests asked questions as he drove, and Monty tried to answer them the best he could. Conversation was surprisingly easy and he found his anxieties about having them stay for the weekend easing.

Back at the farm, Rooster bounded towards the ute at their approach. ‘That's my new dog.'

‘He won't bite, will he?' Pippa looked anxious.

‘No. Rooster's really friendly.' Stepping out of the car, Monty called him and grabbed onto his collar. ‘But he's only a pup and he has a tendency to get overexcited.'

‘Can I pat him?' Pippa asked, the tension easing in her expression.

‘Sure.' Monty nodded, still gripping Rooster's collar. ‘He'd like that.'

Pippa stepped tentatively forward, reached out and barely touched the top of Rooster's head. The pup bounced as much as it could while still being restrained. ‘He's cute,' she said with a smile.

Will reached out and ruffled Rooster's fur. ‘Mum thinks we should get a dog.'

‘They make good companions,' Monty said, although inwardly he was thinking that Will had far better company in his girlfriend. ‘Anyway, let's go inside.'

He gave them the grand tour. It felt odd, but nice. The last time he'd taken a tour of the house, he'd been the guest. Now, for the first time since Nora and Tim had left, it almost felt like a home. They shared a late afternoon tea of packet biscuits— nothing compared to Faith's culinary delights—on the verandah looking out over the property then decided on a game of Scrabble. Pippa whipped both their butts before Monty announced he'd better organise some dinner. Maybe later he'd dig out Trivial Pursuit.

Hotdogs were the main component of the menu, but neither Will nor Pippa seemed upset by the simplicity of what he cooked. Afterwards, they offered to wash up, and he found himself watching them from the kitchen table where he sat drinking a beer. Although they'd been perfect guests all evening, he suddenly felt like a third wheel. Will and Pippa spoke in low voices, laughing together and even throwing soapsuds at each other. Once upon a time, Will would have shrieked the house down if someone had dared to do such a thing to him. He'd barely let their parents wash his hair until he was well into his teens. But things had changed. Monty had to admit his brother had come a very long way.

On Saturday, Monty's guests shadowed him as he went about his daily tasks on the farm. They rotated some of the stock to optimise feeding conditions then, after a hearty lunch of soup and bread from the local bakery, they worked together to build a bonfire. By the time it was dark enough to light their creation, Monty didn't know who was more excited—himself or Pippa and Will.

The three of them carried supplies, including the all-important marshmallows, down to the bonfire site and set themselves up on folding camping chairs.

‘Don't get too close,' Will warned Pippa. He frowned at the monument of branches and sticks as Monty walked around lighting it, then took her hand and urged her back a little. Again something inside Monty twisted at his brother's gentle concern for another human being. Pippa nodded, and the three of them stook back to watch the flames catch on.