Page 20 of Outback Secrets
Chapter Six
Mid Monday morning, Henri toed off her boots at the front door and headed into the house, the flyscreen door slapping closed behind her. After a few hours’ hard labour in the machinery shed, she was in dire need of a Diet Coke.
Her mother looked up from where she sat at the table, her sewing machine in front of her and an array of brightly coloured material beside it. ‘Hello, darling.’
‘What are you doing?’ Henri asked, as she yanked open the fridge and grabbed a can.
‘Sewing the buttons on Macy’s costume for the school Christmas play. You’re coming, aren’t you?’
Henri cringed. Usually she wasn’t home in time to see the endof-year school concert and it sounded mind-numbingly boring. She wouldn’t mind if it were just her nieces and nephews—it was the thought of having to watch other kids dance and sing for a couple of hours that put her off. ‘When is it?’
‘Thursday night, day before the kids break for the holidays.’
‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’ It wasn’t like she had much else to do and it would certainly earn her brownie points. ‘Anyway, I’m heading into town to pick up a new chain for the header and some sheep lick blocks. Do you need me to get anything?’
‘Actually, do you mind stopping in at the IGA for some eggs? I want to make a quiche for dinner and our girls have stopped laying for some reason. I’ll turn them into roast chooks if they don’t get their act together soon. And maybe some more wrapping paper—I don’t think I’ve got quite enough for the kids’ presents and I want to get them done this week before they finish school.’
‘Got it. Wrapping paper and eggs. I’ll be back soon.’
‘You’re not going yet, are you?’ she asked as Henri grabbed Cecil’s keys off the row of hooks on the kitchen wall.
‘I was planning on it, unless there’s something else you need me to do first?’
‘No, but …’ She frowned and shook her head. ‘You don’t even look like you brushed your hair this morning.’
‘I did so.’ Well, she’d run her fingers through it and scooped it into a ponytail. But even if she’d given herself a bloody blow-dry, it would have been ruined in the heat while she’d been tinkering with Callum under the header for the last couple of hours.
‘And those shorts are hardly suitable for town. They’ve got grease all over them. Why don’t you have a shower and put a dress on or something?’
‘A dress? Why would I wear a dress to go to The Ag Store and the IGA?’ Never mind the fact that she only owned one—her Christmas Day outfit—and it was definitely not grocery or farm shopping attire. ‘I’ll be heading out to work again as soon as I get back.’
‘Yes, but you never know who you might run into in town.’
Henri didn’t need to be a genius to know she was referring to eligible bachelors. ‘I’m not trying to impress anyone, Mum, and if I was on the lookout for a husband, I’d want a man who likes me for who I am—messy hair, stained shorts, holey old T-shirts and all.’
Her mother pursed her lips and Henri managed not to smile—she could almost see the steam shooting out her ears. ‘Fine. Drive safely.’
‘Will do,’ Henri said smugly, tossing the keys in her hand as she left the house.
On the ten-minute drive to town, she blasted McAllister Kemp from the stereo and sang along loudly, only turning the music down as she turned into the main street. Tilley was out when Henri arrived at The Ag Store, so it didn’t take long to pick up what she needed, and she decided she’d stop in at Frankie’s Café for a quick bite to eat. Maybe they’d finally have a chance for more than a five-minute conversation.
She couldn’t believe her luck when she found the perfect parking spot right out front, and it was only when she registered that no one was sitting outside that she remembered Frankie closed on Sundays and Mondays. She’d mentioned Saturday night that she’d be spending a couple of days with Logan at his family farm, visiting his brother and Simone. Dammit. She was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get to properly catch up with her best friend.
The IGA was pretty much deserted, but Henri nodded to the teenage boy behind the counter, grabbed a basket and set off. Having found the eggs and some very funky wrapping paper, she was humming along to ‘Six White Boomers’, which was playing on the stereo overhead, when she turned out of the aisle and came face to face with Eileen Brady.
Too late to turn the other way and pretend she hadn’t seen her, Henri pasted on a smile. ‘Morning, Mrs Brady.’
‘Actually, it’s afternoon now, Henrietta,’ Eileen said, tapping on her watch. ‘What mischief are you up to today?’
Mischief?Henri smirked. ‘Nothing exciting, just getting some eggs and wrapping paper for Mum. She goes a little crazy with the grandies’ Christmas gifts and always underestimates how much she needs.’
‘How lovely,’ Eileen said with a sniff. ‘Fiona is very lucky that she’s been blessed with both children and grandchildren. Tuck and I couldn’t have a family. It’s why I dedicated so many years to teaching Sunday School—you students were like the family I never had.’
Henri decided it was safer not to comment on that; Eileen might think quite differently if she knew what the kids used to say behind her back.
Instead, she smiled blandly. ‘Well, it was nice seeing you, Mrs Brady, but I better—’
‘Is there something going on between you and Mr Castle?’ Eileen interrupted, peering intently over the top of her ugly glasses.