The Peppercorn Project (7 page)

He turned to Fletcher. ‘G’day.’

Fletcher smiled politely and returned the greeting with a faint ‘hi’.

‘And who’s this little princess?’

Mietta giggled. ‘I’m Mietta. My daddy says I’m
his
little princess.’

‘I can see why your daddy would say that,’ he said softly.

Mietta beamed. Traitor.

He gave Isabelle his full attention. ‘I want to apologise for the way I handled things with Fletcher – barging in on the interview and everything. I’m sorry.’ He looked from Isabelle to Fletcher. ‘I’m sorry, buddy. I misjudged you.’

Fletcher squirmed in his seat but remained quiet.

‘You did the right thing,’ Isabelle said. ‘Fletcher needed to learn his lesson, and I’m sure he has.’

‘But the interview? You didn’t get to finish,’ he said, his brow deeply furrowed.

‘It’s okay. Leah sorted out another time with her sister. We’re going back for a second interview shortly.’ Isabelle glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Actually, in half an hour. We should eat a little quicker.’

‘You’ve got plenty of time,’ Leah assured her.

Matthew looked relieved. ‘I’m glad. I thought I’d stuffed up the whole thing for you.’

Isabelle shrugged. ‘No need to keep apologising. Instead, you could say a prayer they won’t think badly of Fletcher when I go back in there.’

Leah placed her hand on Isabelle’s arm. ‘It’s fine. Rachel will understand, I promise.’

Twenty minutes later Isabelle walked back through the doors of the church hall, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction. She ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them. It was hard to look everyone in the eye a second time around.

‘Hi,’ she said softly.

‘Hello.’ Alison smiled. ‘Let’s pretend we’re meeting for the first time. I’m Alison Monahan. It’s lovely to meet you.’

Jack reached out his hand. ‘G’day love. I’m Jack O’Rourke. This here is Rachel King. Come and take a seat and tell us why you want to move to Stony Creek and become part of our community.’

Isabelle sat carefully on the edge of the wooden chair. The air conditioner clanked in the background. She flicked a grateful smile from Alison to Jack to Rachel.

‘My name is Isabelle Cassidy. I have two children. Fletcher is twelve and Mietta is six. We’re from Torquay, in Victoria.’ Taking a deep breath, she continued, her voice wavering slightly. ‘We want to be part of the Peppercorn Project because I lost my husband earlier this year. He had a heart attack. He didn’t have any life insurance, and because we have no savings, I can’t afford our mortgage. I’d love to get back on my feet, and I don’t just mean financially. This seemed like an incredible opportunity. Not only do we get reduced rent, we get the chance to become part of a real community. A community where no one knows us. We’re tired of everyone looking at us and feeling sorry for us all the time.’

She let out a long breath. It wasn’t the most eloquent of speeches, but it was the best she could do. Leather soles scraped once across the wooden floor. Alison was the first to speak.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Alison said.

‘It must be hard for you,’ Rachel added.

‘Yes, it is, but each day gets a little easier,’ Isabelle replied.

That wasn’t true – not by a long shot – but it was what people wanted to hear. Isabelle had discovered people didn’t understand when she tried to explain the face-tingling numbness which lasted for weeks after Dan’s death. They didn’t understand how she had barely slept for nearly three months. They didn’t understand about the heart-racing anxiety attacks she continued to have. Or how, now, nine months later, there were still some days it was hard to get out of bed and function like a normal person. No one seemed to understand any of it.

‘It sounds to me like you could use our help,’ Jack said.

Everything blurred in front of Isabelle as hot tears welled in her eyes. She nodded.

‘Tell us about your nursing experience,’ Rachel said.

Isabelle dabbed at her wet lashes with a tissue. This was where they had gotten to in the interview before Matt had dragged Fletcher inside.

‘I’m not currently working,’ Isabelle said.

‘Why?’ Rachel asked.

‘I’ve let my registration lapse. I didn’t have the money to pay for it since I’m not working, and I figure I don’t need it right now.’

‘It is difficult to re-register?’ Rachel asked.

‘No, but I’m not sure if I’m cut out for nursing anymore,’ Isabelle said.

‘Why?’ Rachel asked, frowning.

Isabelle sucked in a deep breath. That was another thing no one seemed to understand. ‘I don’t think I have what it takes. It’s a stressful job and I—’

Jack interjected. ‘I’m sure it’s still too early for you to work after your husband’s death.’

Isabelle shot him a grateful smile.

‘Could you nurse again if you wanted to?’ Rachel asked. What was her problem? She was worse than the proverbial dog with a bone.

‘I think Isabelle is saying she needs time before getting back on the horse,’ Jack clarified.

Isabelle wanted to hug the grandfatherly figure. And Alison too. They understood.

‘I lost my wife a couple of years back,’ he said softly. ‘Cancer. I know it takes a while before you feel like you can walk without your head surrounded in a fog. My advice is take all the time you need. That’s what this project is all about. To help people like you.’

Again, the tears threatened. ‘Thank you, Jack.’

The interview continued for another ten minutes. Isabelle answered their questions as well as she could, hoping she met with their approval. She had given it her best shot. Now all she could do was wait. She said a quick prayer they would see through her pain and grief and grasp how much she needed them to say yes. There was no plan B, no other option, no other choice. She needed to win.

Rachel checked her watch, shuffled the papers on her clipboard and stood. The interview was over.

‘Could I say one last thing?’ Isabelle asked, pushing back her own chair and standing.

‘Of course.’

‘If I’m chosen for a Peppercorn lease, I’d rather people didn’t know what happened to Dan. When I’m ready, I’ll tell those I trust, but I don’t want to be known as ‘the widow’.’

‘This will stay between us,’ Jack assured her. ‘You have our word.’

He looked to the others for confirmation and they nodded their heads.

‘Thank you,’ Isabelle said, slinging her bag across one shoulder. ‘And I’m sorry about what happened earlier with—’

‘Thank
you
, Isabelle,’ Alison interrupted with a wide smile. ‘We’ll announce the winners tomorrow night at the pub. I look forward to seeing you and your children there.’

Heat flooded Isabelle’s face yet again. She licked her dry lips. ‘I’m not actually staying Sunday night. I could only afford two nights’ accommodation, so we’re going to head back to Torquay tomorrow morning. It’s a long drive. I figured you’d contact the winners by phone.’

Alison frowned. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘The Caravan Park.’

Alison rolled her eyes. She pulled a pen from her clipboard and wrote a number on the bottom of Isabelle’s application form. Then she tore off a corner off the paper and handed it across the table. ‘Call this number. My sister Fran and her husband Jim live not far out of town on a huge property. The last of their kids moved out recently and Fran’s at a loose end. They have loads of spare rooms and the house is empty. She’d enjoy the company, and I reckon your kids would enjoy a taste of real Aussie farm life.’

Isabelle took the paper. The numbers blurred as the tears fell in earnest. She folded it carefully and placed it in her handbag. The offer was lovely but she couldn’t accept hospitality from a stranger.

‘Call her,’ Alison insisted. ‘You’ll be able to stay tonight and tomorrow night, or longer if you want. The caravan park isn’t suitable for your family.’

‘But my booking … I’ve already paid for another night.’

‘I know Pat Wallace,’ Jack interrupted. ‘I’ll get it sorted. You make sure you call Fran and Jim. They’re good people, and I know they’d love you to stay.’

Clearly, it was out of her hands.

‘Thank you for everything,’ Isabelle said, meaning every word. It didn’t matter if she didn’t win – she felt more valued and loved than she had in months because of the kindness of these people.

Alison led her to the door. ‘If you don’t call my sister, I’ll get her to call you and drag you out to the farm. We’ll see you at the pub tomorrow night.’

Isabelle stopped, surprising herself when she turned and wrapped her arms around Alison. She was further surprised when Alison returned the hug, pulling her tight and whispering in her ear, ‘You’ve got my vote, sweetie.’

*

‘Well, she’s got my vote, all right,’ Joe told Matt later that day at the pub.

Matt sat in his usual spot at the end of the long bar, closest to the entrance. ‘Why’s that?’ he asked.

Joe shrugged. ‘There’s something about her. She needs us, that’s obvious, but I reckon we also need her. I can’t explain it, but I tell ya what, I’ll be on the phone to Rachel tonight to give her my opinion.

‘And what opinion is that, Joe?’

Matt spun on his stool to see Rachel approaching the bar.

Joe laughed. ‘Are your ears burning? I was just talkin’ about you.’

‘So I heard!’

‘Long day?’ Matt asked.

‘Yep!’ Rachel plonked her clipboard on the bar and swung herself awkwardly onto the high stool beside Matt. ‘And I need a drink, please, Joe.’

‘What will you have, love?’

‘The usual, thanks. So, Joe, what’s your opinion?’ Rachel asked. She cocked her head at Matt and scowled. ‘I already know what
he
thinks.’

‘I reckon you should say yes to Isabelle Cassidy and her kids.’

‘Why?’

‘Dunno exactly. That’s what I was sayin’ to Matt when you walked in. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about her. I think we need her in our town.’ He wiped his hands on the towel slung over one shoulder. ‘I reckon she’d be a good fit for us.’

‘Is that so?’ Rachel took a sip of her drink and glared at Matt. ‘I’ll be surprised if Isabelle still
wants
to live in our town after Matthew’s ridiculous shenanigans this morning.’ Rachel glared at him, her eyes firing daggers. ‘What were you thinking, Matt? Dragging her kid in like that?’

Matt hung his head, concentrating on the empty glass in front of him as if it had all the answers. ‘Yeah, that was stupid, I admit.’

‘What did you do?’ Joe asked.

After Rachel explained everything, Joe swiped Matt’s empty beer glass and wiped down the wet bar. ‘It’s about time you started thinking like a local copper, not a city cop on the lookout to catch the big drug lords. If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, we don’t have a drug problem here.’ He stalked off to serve another customer, leaving Matt alone with Rachel.

Her eyes flashed dark. ‘I happen to agree with Joe. You have to stop thinking the worst, Matt. Not everyone is a drug dealing criminal.’ She finished her drink and slid off the stool. Clutching the clipboard to her chest, she stared him down. ‘Come on then, out with it. What’s your opinion?’

He frowned. ‘What do you mean? You already know my opinion.’

‘I know your opinion on the Peppercorn Project. But is it a yes or no for Isabelle Cassidy and her kids?’

‘Yes.’

Afterwards, Matt pondered why his answer had come so fast.

Isabelle’s heart hammered so loudly she was sure the others in the crowded pub could hear it over the din. The room was overflowing with anticipation. How much longer would they have to wait until Rachel arrived? Isabelle took a deep breath. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Tonight there would be many tears. Tears of disappointment. Tears of joy. Would one of the winning families be hers?

She caught sight of Matt standing alone on the other side of the room. It was hard to miss him. He stood head and shoulders above much of the crowd. He sensed her gaze and when their eyes met, he raised his glass in greeting. She returned the gesture, along with a forced smile. Why did her heart slam against her chest whenever she was in a room with him? She took a slow sip of her drink, hoping it would ease the lump in her throat. The wait was interminable.

After the second interview, Leah had driven Isabelle and the kids past the four available properties. The first was ten minutes out of town on twenty acres. Isabelle shuddered at the idea of living in such an isolated location. The next two houses were located in the heart of the town, on big blocks, situated in wide streets. She was impressed with how well maintained they were and would be grateful for either of them if she was lucky enough to win. The last house Leah drove them past was right down near the creek and was more rundown than the others, but it made up for it in charm and character.

She placed her glass on the table in front of her. Surely, it was getting closer to the time for the announcement. Leah sat beside her, and Isabelle was grateful for her company. On Isabelle’s other side was Alison’s sister Fran. Her warmth and hospitality had exceeded all expectations. Isabelle and the kids had slept comfortably in their own rooms at Fran and Jim’s farm on Saturday night, after eating enough food to feed a small nation. They refused any payment for the accommodation, and after Isabelle argued profusely to no avail, she accepted their generosity graciously. The money she would have spent on accommodation would be able to be used elsewhere.

After what seemed like an eternity, Isabelle spotted Rachel making her way through the crowd, trailed by Alison and Jack. Isabelle’s insides tightened. The noise diminished as people began shushing one another. Isabelle searched for Fletcher and Mietta in the crowd. They looked as nervous as she felt.

Rachel unhooked the microphone from its stand and after it squealed, silence descended in the pub. ‘I’m not going to draw this out,’ she said when she had everyone’s undivided attention. ‘Thank you for coming. We have loved meeting all of you, but as we said right from the beginning, we can only choose four families. I’d like to congratulate the following families who, if they accept, will become members of our wonderful Stony Creek community.’ Rachel paused to check the names in front of her and called out the first winners. ‘Neil and Karina Baker …’

There was a smattering of applause and Isabelle looked across at a couple surrounded by what looked like half a dozen kids. The woman was heavily pregnant.

‘They look like home schoolers,’ Leah whispered in her ear.

‘I wonder if Rachel convinced them of the merits of public school education and her teaching qualifications.’

Isabelle smiled.

The family stepped up onto the small stage and Neil accepted the keys from Jack while Alison hugged Karina.

‘The Bakers will move into the property on Survey Road.’

The isolated farmhouse out of town up in the hills.
Isabelle exhaled. One down. Three to go.

‘The second family is Andrew and Kim Bailey. We have allocated the Giles Street property to them.’

A young, attractive brunette squealed in delight and hugged the equally attractive man at her side. He pumped his fist into the air. They received their set of keys from Jack while their twin toddlers watched on in surprise from their pram, no doubt confused by all the commotion. Isabelle wondered what their story was.

She closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Only two houses remained.

‘Kuda and Rumbi Nyabadzwa,’ Rachel stumbled slightly over the pronunciation of their names, ‘are our third family.’

A young black couple, possibly refugees, hugged before stepping onto the stage to receive their keys. Isabelle watched the locals cast curious glances. A girl around Mietta’s age looked shyly out at the crowd from behind her mother’s colourful skirt, and a chubby toddler squirmed in his father’s arms.

Rachel looked at the family and smiled. ‘We’ve given you the house in Stuart Street.’

Isabelle’s stomach churned. Her mouth was dry. This was it, the decisive moment. The only house left was the miner’s cottage near the creek. Was it about to be their new home?

‘And the final family we wish to welcome to Stony Creek is …’

Isabelle’s heart stilled when Rachel paused and stared straight at them, her face an unreadable mask.

‘… the Cassidy family!’

She let out a startled cry and stumbled, dazed, onto the stage. She gave a little wave and a bewildered mumble of thanks before Alison gripped her in a tight hug. She couldn’t remember pocketing the keys Jack handed her. Had she remembered to say how thankful she was?

Within seconds, a small crowd formed around Isabelle and her kids. Clapping and cheering followed, along with a chorus of ‘fantastic’ and ‘well done’. Leah wrapped her arms around Isabelle and squeezed tight. Fletcher was quiet, but his face split in a wide grin. Mietta jumped up and down like a jack-in-the-box.

A man’s deep voice added his congratulations and Isabelle turned to face whoever it was. Matt.

‘A worthy winner,’ he said, bending down to kiss her briefly on the cheek. ‘I’m happy for you, Isabelle.’

Isabelle reached up to touch the spot and sensed unexpected warmth beneath her fingertips. Her legs liquefied and she searched for the nearest chair and sat.

She couldn’t believe it! They had won!

*

Matt watched Isabelle touch her cheek and saw the way two spots of colour branded her pale cheeks after he kissed her. He also saw the rings on her left hand and frowned. If she was single, why was she still wearing her rings?

He turned to congratulate Fletcher, hoping to high-five him, but he’d pulled the emotional shades over his eyes again. Leah and Mietta were doing a little celebratory jig and Rachel and Isabelle were chatting. The cacophony was overwhelming. He was desperate to know more about Isabelle, but the minute he starting asking questions, the townspeople would be straight onto him. He did not want or need that.

He was a thinker, used to making logical decisions, and he could not work out why his heart had overruled his head. Acting on impulse, he had kissed Isabelle. Not his usual style. He’d only meant it as a friendly gesture, but the way his legs had turned to jelly was evidence he needed to sort out his feelings for her.

‘See you later,’ he called out, waving in a generic manner at the group gathered around Isabelle.

It was astounding how she’d made so many friends in the short time she’d been in town.

‘You’re heading off early,’ Joe said, as Matt was about to slip out the door. ‘Thought you’d stick around until closing tonight.’

‘I’m on duty tomorrow morning. Early start. It’s been a busy weekend and I’m tired.’ It was a poor excuse.

‘Saw you kiss Isabelle.’ Joe nodded in her direction.

Matt felt his face redden. ‘On the cheek, Joe, on the cheek. Don’t go reading anything into it.’

What was with the old men in this town? Between Geoff and Joe, they were constantly playing matchmaker – a role usually left to the women. Everyone acted as though Matt’s fast approaching fortieth birthday was a sign he should hang up his bachelor’s cap, find himself a nice wife, and buy a house with a white picket fence. Matt sighed. He kept reminding them he had tried that dream once before and it hadn’t worked.

It had taken him a long time to get over his divorce. He’d thought he and Simone were happy, but Matt had wanted to start a family and Simone hadn’t. She constantly reminded him she had her career to consider, and that the timing had to be perfect. Unfortunately, as the years passed it seemed the timing was never going to be right.

Joe gave Matt a look he couldn’t decipher. ‘Being a single mum, Isabelle’s gonna need looking after. Might be a good idea if you offer to help her out around the house. Hilary’s house is the most rundown of the lot of them.’

‘I’ll ask her if she needs me to help once she moves in. But she strikes me as the kind of woman who can take care of herself.’

Joe harrumphed. ‘Rubbish. All women like a man to take care of them.’

Matt tried to hide his smile. There was no point arguing. Men like Joe were stuck in a different era.

‘If she’s single, why’s she still wearing her wedding rings?’

Joe’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice. ‘I haven’t asked, but I overheard her talking with Leah at the pub yesterday. Her husband died.’

Exiting the pub, Matt inhaled deeply and let the cool night air fill his lungs. Joe’s announcement about Isabelle’s husband was not what he’d been expecting. No wonder they all looked so broken. As he walked home, he hoped the fresh air would clear his head and his heart. He didn’t need another woman in his life to muddle things. Especially not a woman who was still grieving and possibly still in love with her husband.

It had taken eighteen months, but Matt thought he’d finally found peace. Peace with himself. At peace with where he was at in life. Now, as he walked the empty streets back to his house, he sighed heavily. Thinking about his failed marriage had caused an unwanted flux of forgotten emotions.

He squared his shoulders, decision made. Just as he’d wager Isabelle would be perfectly capable of taking care of herself,
he
was perfectly capable of living without another woman complicating his life.

And Isabelle Cassidy and her kids were a complication he definitely did
not
need.