The Peppercorn Project (6 page)

Relief billowed around Isabelle as soon as she caught sight of Fletcher. He was okay. She tried to ignore the aching hurt in the centre of her chest.

‘Fletch.’

He looked so forlorn the pain in her heart squeezed like a vice. He was
not
okay at all.

Leah grabbed her arm. ‘Let me talk to him first.’

‘Good luck.’

Moments later, Fletcher’s features softened, before his lips curled upwards and a grin spread across his face. Leah must have said the magic word.
Bacon!

Fletcher approached and gave her an awkward hug. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I blew our chance, didn’t I?’

The poor kid. His emotions were all over the place. She hugged him back. ‘Maybe not.’

Fletcher looked quizzically at her.

‘Come on, let’s walk and talk.’

‘That’s what Dad used to say.’

‘Yeah, I know, buddy. Which is why I’m saying it now. Just because Dad’s gone doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten him.’

Isabelle and Fletcher walked back in the direction they had come, following behind Leah and Mietta. Isabelle marvelled at the way her daughter skipped alongside Leah, holding her hand as if she’d made a new best friend. Isabelle knew how Mietta felt. Leah was a breath of fresh air. If they won the competition and came to live here, Leah’s friendship would be good for all of them.

‘You’re not moving here to forget about Dad are you?’

‘No, Fletch! I’ll never forget your dad. I’m not doing this to run away or hide from reality, I’m doing this because it might be the best way for us to get back on our feet again. I know you don’t get it, but there’s no money left. After Dad died, our only source of income was gone. With me not working, we have no money.’

‘But you said we have Centrelink.’

How she hated living on welfare payments, even though that was their only option.

‘We do, but it’s not enough to live on, not enough to pay our mortgage.’

Fletcher was silent, deep in thought. ‘If we move here, I’ll miss our house.’

‘So will I, Fletcher. But it’s just a house. Without Dad, it’s not a home anymore.’

His shoulders slumped. ‘I know.’

He sounded so miserable, Isabelle’s already broken heart threatened to crack open wider. She touched his arm. ‘One day we’ll have a home again, I promise. Maybe even here in Stony Creek.’

‘But we’ll never be a family again.’

Stunned, she stopped walking and stared at him. ‘We’ll always be a family, Fletch. Whatever the future holds, we will always have each other.’

‘Are you going to get married again?’

She laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. Where had that question come from? ‘I have no intention of getting married again.’

‘Never?’ Fletcher was insistent.

Isabelle pulled him close, pleased he didn’t jerk away from her this time. ‘Honestly, buddy, I have no idea. It’s still too soon. I’m still in love with your dad.’ With her other hand she touched Dan’s ring that lay at her throat, feeling the comforting solidity of the warm silver between her fingers. ‘I tell you what, if I ever fall in love again, you’ll be the first to know. How does that sound?’

Fletcher nodded. ‘Okay. Unless I give my approval, you’re not allowed to love anyone else. Deal?’

He sounded so serious Isabelle had to control the urge to laugh.

‘Deal.’ She was surprised he hadn’t insisted they shake on it.

Moments later they were at the pub.

‘Hope you’re hungry,’ Leah said, holding the door open and giving Isabelle her first glimpse of the dark interior. A dozen men sat lined up at the bar like the last line of pins at a ten pin bowling lane, nursing schooners of beer. They turned as one to look at the newcomers. Two waved and smiled at Leah and she returned the friendly greeting. One man gave Isabelle more than a cursory glance and tipped his head in her direction. ‘G’day, love.’

Isabelle smiled politely and followed Leah through the pub to the dining room. They found a table in the corner and sat. Her stomach growled at the smells emanating from the kitchen. Until then she hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

Fletcher looked at the chalkboard menu of specials and grinned. ‘I’m hungry and they do an all-day breakfast.’

‘He’s got hollow legs,’ Mietta told Leah seriously. ‘That’s what Dad always used to say.’

Leah ruffled Mietta’s hair. ‘You’re brother’s a growing boy, and growing boys need to eat like the men they’re going to become one day.’ She flicked Fletcher’s hat from his head. ‘Hats off inside, mate!’

Isabelle raised her eyebrows in surprise when Fletcher didn’t protest. Leah ushered them into a corner of the dining room and waved to the man behind the bar. He shouted a greeting across the room before hobbling towards them.

‘He’s so
old
!’ Mietta said under her breath as she hung back timidly.

‘Shh!’ Isabelle warned.

‘Hey Joe, this is Isabelle, Fletcher and Mietta Cassidy,’ Leah said. ‘Guys, this is Joe. He and his lovely wife Jane have run this pub forever, and he’s one of the main reasons the Peppercorn Project got started. One day he can tell you all about it.’

‘G’day, love,’ he said. ‘Heard about you lot already.’

Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat.
What had he heard?

‘What can I get you then?’

He plonked laminated menus in front of each of them. The food was simple and the prices reasonable. Isabelle relaxed. Leah had offered to pay, but she didn’t want to take advantage of her new friend’s generosity.

‘I’ll have the breakfast with the lot,’ Fletcher stated, after giving the menu a cursory glance.

‘Growing lad, I see,’ the old man grinned, showing off large teeth like crooked tombstones. ‘Good decision. One big breakfast coming up.’

He squeezed Fletcher’s shoulder and Isabelle held her breath, waiting for Fletcher’s reaction. When it didn’t come, she relaxed.

‘And for the princess? ’ Joe ruffled Mietta’s hair. ‘What can I get for you?’

Mietta grinned up at Joe, all shyness gone, and Isabelle added another person to the list of people she could trust in Stony Creek.

‘May I please have pancakes with ice cream and maple syrup?’

Not proper breakfast food, but Mietta asked so politely Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to scold her. She shrugged. Then again, dessert for breakfast sounded like a perfectly good idea after the morning they’d had. ‘I’ll have the same, thanks,’ she said with a smile, which was returned tenfold from Joe.

‘And you, Leah?’

‘I’ve eaten already, thanks, Joe.’ Leah put a hand to her stomach and laughed. ‘And I absolutely positively do not need to eat again. But I’ll never say no to an iced chocolate.’

They settled into an easy conversation, and Leah asked the kids a lot of questions. She listened intently to their answers like it really mattered what they had to say. Isabelle saw what she was trying to do – putting them at ease, but at the same time trying to figure out what their story was.

She regarded Leah carefully and made a snap decision. If they were going to be friends, it was easier to get things out in the open right from the beginning.

‘What do you want to know?’

Leah’s face flushed pink. ‘Sorry. I hope you don’t think I’m prying.’

‘You’re wearing a wedding ring,’ Leah said finally. A statement, not a question.

Isabelle stared down at the two rings on her left and twisted them into place. ‘My husband had a heart attack in January,’ she said softly. Her hand went automatically to Dan’s own wedding ring that she wore on a chain around her neck and tears formed quickly. She brushed them away.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She touched Isabelle’s arm. ‘How the hell are you still standing?’

‘Some days I’m not, but I have no choice. I have to get out of bed for the kids.’ In the days after Dan’s death it was like she had dementia. She would forget, then remember, then relive his death all over again. Each time she remembered he wasn’t coming home, the force of the shock hit her again like a slap in the face. Once the shock wore off, the exhaustion set in.

Leah glanced over at Fletcher and Mietta. Something on the television had captured their attention but she lowered her voice anyway. ‘How are they coping?’

‘They miss Dan so much. They don’t understand – can’t understand – why he died. You should have seen the sadness in their eyes. It’s fading now, thankfully.’

‘Poor kids.’

‘They wear their grief so differently. Some days Mietta is fine, and just gets on with life, like it never happened. Other days she wakes pale and withdrawn, and doesn’t want to go to school. She tells me her tummy hurts, but when I take her to the doctor, they tell me its anxiety. So I waver. Do I push her to go to school? Or do I acknowledge her pain and her need to take time to heal? I usually just let her stay at home and wonder if I’m a bad mother. Then on other days, she talks constantly about Dan in the past tense – “Daddy did this” or “Daddy said that” – and I think she’s moved on.’

‘And Fletcher? He looks like he’s struggling.’

Isabelle sighed. ‘He was withdrawn and silent for weeks after Dan’s death. He never talked about it. The purple shadows under his eyes were the only sign he was in grief. He was stoic during the day, refusing to mention his dad, but at night when the lights went out, his questions came in a rush. “Why did Dad have to die?” “Why did he have a heart attack?”’

And the question which haunted Isabelle each and every day: “Why couldn’t you save him?”

‘I don’t think Fletcher has forgiven me for not saving him,’ Isabelle said.

Leah frowned. ‘Why would he have expected that?’

‘He was the one who pulled Dan from the water.’

‘How awful for him.’ Leah’s eyes widened more than her mouth.

‘I was there too.’

‘Oh, Isabelle.’ Leah’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

‘I couldn’t explain it to your sister, but that’s why I can’t be a nurse anymore. I’m supposed to be able to save people’s lives. I know CPR and basic life support. And I failed.’

Isabelle raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from the back of her neck. It was months since she last had a panic attack but she recognised the signs. She willed herself to breathe slowly and evenly until the moment passed.

Leah touched her on the arm, allowing her hand to rest there. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Her words were heartfelt.

Isabelle smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you.’ She paused. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’

Leah nodded. ‘Anything.’

‘If I win this competition, I don’t want people to know what happened to Dan. I’d appreciate if this stayed between us. Until I get to know people, I don’t want them to know me as the grieving widow.’

‘Of course. Absolutely. You have my word.’

They smiled at one other and the tension uncoiled itself from around Isabelle’s throat. It was good to share a moment with a new friend. Since Dan’s accident, a lot of her wider circle of girlfriends had dropped off. They simply couldn’t understand her grief. Her closest friends hung around, but by the six-week mark their lives had moved on, and Isabelle wondered if they expected hers should be moving on too. Instead, her healing had come in layers – each day, like today, bringing new challenges.

‘When I hit the six months mark I discovered it was much harder than I expected. I missed Dan more than ever. Missed our deep conversations. Missed talking about our dreams, our hopes, and our plans for the future. Now, because of circumstances beyond my control, I’m uprooting our lives and starting again. It’s daunting and I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing.’

‘You must have been young when you had Fletcher.’

Relief washed over Isabelle at the change of subject. ‘I was eighteen. I fell pregnant after our final exams.’

‘How did that go down with your folks?’

Isabelle grimaced. ‘Not well. But that’s another story.’

‘Hold that story.’ Something, or someone, had caught Leah’s attention.

Isabelle turned in her seat to follow Leah’s gaze and a jolt of something went through her.
Are you serious? Is he following me?
She quickly turned back to her food, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring but it was too late, he was making a beeline for their table. What commotion was he going to cause this time? She sensed him the moment he stood beside their table. She went to take a sip of her drink and noticed her hand shaking.

‘G’day, Leah. Hello Isabelle. Kids.’

Everyone looked up at him in silence, even Leah.

‘I think we should start over,’ he said softly, eyes only for Isabelle. ‘Mind if I join you?’ He pulled out an empty chair beside her without waiting for a response.

Eyeing him warily, Isabelle nodded and swallowed. He sat, but she still felt dwarfed beside him. She had been too angry earlier to have a really good look at him, so she regarded him now, hoping her mouth wasn’t hanging open. He was undeniably a very attractive man. He’d changed out of his police uniform – maybe in an attempt to look less intimidating – and into a black T-shirt, which pulled taut over his broad chest and shoulder muscles. He obviously worked out. A lot. Out of uniform, he appeared nothing like a cop. If anything, he looked more suited to the rugby field. Isabelle tried not to stare, but it was impossible.

When he faced her, Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat. Never – not once – in her entire relationship with Dan had she noticed another man, let alone gone breathless in the presence of one. Her body’s response shocked her. A flutter began low in her belly and she shifted in her seat, annoyed at the way her body was betraying her. Clearly her sex drive hadn’t died along with Dan, but she wasn’t prepared for this new feeling. She twisted the rings on her finger and reminded herself she was still furious with him.

He extended his hand. ‘Let’s start again. I’m Matthew Robertson. Call me Matt.’

The instant their hands met, her anger dissolved like ice in boiling water.

‘Isabelle Cassidy.’ She searched and found her voice, amazed it came out sounding so normal.

‘I know.’

Matt smiled – a crooked smile, which showed off straight white teeth framed by a dark, neatly trimmed beard. Isabelle dragged her gaze away from his lips and looked into his eyes. Mietta was right. He really did have nice eyes.