interesting guy. Lean and fit looking with an athletic way of moving that made his limp seem more like a recent injury than permanent. He had some sort of jaded thing happening, as though he’d seen it all before but, what the hell, he was there so he may as well help out anyway. And there was something else about him, something that made Jodie take another look at him. There it was. He was standing on the kerb, hands in his pockets, and in one brief, fluid turn of his head, he checked up and down the road. He was alert. Relaxed and alert at the same time, if that was possible. And Jodie liked it.
Which made her feel all the more guilty about the way she’d behaved. He’d gone well beyond the call of duty coming out to rescue them that second time – and she’d reacted like he was a prisoner on day release. By then, though, she’d spent an eternity putting up with Corrine complaining about her ankle and listening to a bloodcurdling scream being dragged out of her memory. He could have been Nelson Mandela and she would have treated him like a serial killer. And at the pub, after that guy had bailed her up, she’d been rattled and angry and probably rude. He most likely thought she was a total jerk. She shook her head, wished she could shake off the lingering anxiety as easily.
They turned off the main road out of town onto a narrower country byway. It was potholed and winding and Jodie had to slow to under the speed limit to negotiate it in the dark.
‘Fifteen more kilometres down here, turn right at the Old Barn sign then two more k’s on dirt and we’re there,’ Hannah said, reading from the page of directions she’d picked up with the key.
‘On this road in this old rattler, we should be there by morning.’ Louise grinned at no one in particular. ‘So what’s for breakfast?’
‘I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny,’ Corrine said.
Louise laughed. ‘Oh dear, did someone forget to pack her sense of adventure?’
‘I packed it but it broke with the heel of my Italian boots,’ Corrine snapped. ‘Just in case you’ve forgotten, I have a sprained ankle. The sooner we get there, the better.’
Jodie flicked a look at her in the rear-view mirror again, reminded herself to feel some sympathy. Jodie had had a bunch of sprained ankles over the years. Sports injuries, mostly. Annoying more than anything because they kept her off the field. But Corrine wasn’t the running-around sort. No doubt she did something delicate like ballet when she was young and was probably a little distressed at the sight of swelling and a bruise.
Twenty minutes later, they spotted a sign to the Old Barn nestled into the front yard of a weathered timber cottage. Jodie bumped onto a dirt track and slowed the pace even further on the rough surface. Bush crowded in on either side and she crunched the gears back to second as they began a steady climb up what she assumed was ‘The Hill’ part of the ‘Old Barn’. As they crested a shoulder, the bush cleared and the silhouette of a tall barn appeared to teeter on the top of the hill.
A knot of worry nestled between Jodie’s shoulderblades. It was more isolated than she’d expected. ‘The view should be fantastic from up there,’ she said, attempting to find a silver lining.
‘It’ll be better than the Hilton if it’s got a kitchen and a fire,’ Louise said.
‘Who’s doing dinner tonight?’ Jodie asked. Every year they organised a food roster. They figured if they all prepared one meal, they each got to put their feet up for three others over the weekend – and as mothers of a total of eleven kids, that was pure luxury. Jodie looked cautiously in the rear-view mirror and hoped Corrine wasn’t on duty for Friday night.
‘Me,’ said Louise. ‘Coconut chicken curry and rice followed by my sticky date pudding and cheese and chocolate.’
Jodie groaned. ‘That sounds like cholesterol heaven. I just realised how hungry I am. I move that we help Corrine inside,
Which made her feel all the more guilty about the way she’d behaved. He’d gone well beyond the call of duty coming out to rescue them that second time – and she’d reacted like he was a prisoner on day release. By then, though, she’d spent an eternity putting up with Corrine complaining about her ankle and listening to a bloodcurdling scream being dragged out of her memory. He could have been Nelson Mandela and she would have treated him like a serial killer. And at the pub, after that guy had bailed her up, she’d been rattled and angry and probably rude. He most likely thought she was a total jerk. She shook her head, wished she could shake off the lingering anxiety as easily.
They turned off the main road out of town onto a narrower country byway. It was potholed and winding and Jodie had to slow to under the speed limit to negotiate it in the dark.
‘Fifteen more kilometres down here, turn right at the Old Barn sign then two more k’s on dirt and we’re there,’ Hannah said, reading from the page of directions she’d picked up with the key.
‘On this road in this old rattler, we should be there by morning.’ Louise grinned at no one in particular. ‘So what’s for breakfast?’
‘I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny,’ Corrine said.
Louise laughed. ‘Oh dear, did someone forget to pack her sense of adventure?’
‘I packed it but it broke with the heel of my Italian boots,’ Corrine snapped. ‘Just in case you’ve forgotten, I have a sprained ankle. The sooner we get there, the better.’
Jodie flicked a look at her in the rear-view mirror again, reminded herself to feel some sympathy. Jodie had had a bunch of sprained ankles over the years. Sports injuries, mostly. Annoying more than anything because they kept her off the field. But Corrine wasn’t the running-around sort. No doubt she did something delicate like ballet when she was young and was probably a little distressed at the sight of swelling and a bruise.
Twenty minutes later, they spotted a sign to the Old Barn nestled into the front yard of a weathered timber cottage. Jodie bumped onto a dirt track and slowed the pace even further on the rough surface. Bush crowded in on either side and she crunched the gears back to second as they began a steady climb up what she assumed was ‘The Hill’ part of the ‘Old Barn’. As they crested a shoulder, the bush cleared and the silhouette of a tall barn appeared to teeter on the top of the hill.
A knot of worry nestled between Jodie’s shoulderblades. It was more isolated than she’d expected. ‘The view should be fantastic from up there,’ she said, attempting to find a silver lining.
‘It’ll be better than the Hilton if it’s got a kitchen and a fire,’ Louise said.
‘Who’s doing dinner tonight?’ Jodie asked. Every year they organised a food roster. They figured if they all prepared one meal, they each got to put their feet up for three others over the weekend – and as mothers of a total of eleven kids, that was pure luxury. Jodie looked cautiously in the rear-view mirror and hoped Corrine wasn’t on duty for Friday night.
‘Me,’ said Louise. ‘Coconut chicken curry and rice followed by my sticky date pudding and cheese and chocolate.’
Jodie groaned. ‘That sounds like cholesterol heaven. I just realised how hungry I am. I move that we help Corrine inside,
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