Page 54 of The Orchard at Rosevale
As she strode towards him, he took careful note of her clothes. He’d barely glanced at her last night beyond exchanging pleasantries, and thought she’d been wearing a black top and faded denim. Today, she had on the same outfit, and her scuffed tan boots had a white-socked big toe poking out on the right.
He’d add a standard uniform to be worn during training and in the restaurant to her employment conditions.
‘Hey, bozo,’ she said when she reached him, and beneath her forced smile he saw what El had seen—a hint of desperation.
‘Is that any way to greet your prospective employer?’
‘You do have a job available?’ Her smile faded as she donned a mask he assumed she’d practised to hide her need. ‘Because I’m willing to do anything. Pick or pack, clean the homestead, admin, whatever.’
If she needed a job so badly, she could probably do with a feed. ‘Let’s conduct this interview over coffee.’
As he led Bindi into the homestead, he noticed her glancing around, envy in her eyes. Bindi, Kyle, Thommo and Robbo had only been to his home once, in Year Nine, when his mum had got it into her head to throw him a birthday party. He’d tried to talk her out of it, but Ferne could be stubborn. She’d realised he was lonely and had wanted to rectify it. She had her heart in the right place.
What his mother hadn’t understood was that no matter how many parties he had, kids didn’t want to hang out with him at school. An introvert, he preferred reading at lunchtime than kicking the footy on the oval. When kids mocked, he pretended like he didn’t care, and wore his loner status like a badge of honour. Thank goodness for his height, otherwise he might’ve copped a beating or two. Ferne had invited the whole class to that joke of a party, all twenty-two kids, but only those four turned up. To their credit, they made an effort. They gave him a gift card to a local sports store, tried to engage him in conversation, included him in their Marco Polo game in the pool. His mum had served sausage rolls, party pies and cupcakes from the bakery, and to his surprise, the gang had hung around rather than leave as soon as they’d eaten.
That day, he’d become a reluctant fifth member of their friendship group, and he went from ignoring everyone at school to at least saying hi and having the occasional chat with them. And despite not keeping in contact after he left school, the way they’d welcomed him back last night had been magnanimous.
As they entered the kitchen, he asked, ‘You hungry?’
The quick shake of her head had to be rote, because he saw the way she eyed off the Ploughman’s Platter he’d prepared for a light dinner: cheddar cheese slices, pickled onions and gherkins, ham and prosciutto, hard-boiled eggs, tangy tomato relish, crusty bread, and apple slices.
‘Did you make that for me?’ Her lips thinned, as if sensing he’d offered her food out of pity, and he knew he’d have to tread carefully with the rest of his plan.
‘No. Believe it or not, when you cook for a living, you can’t be bothered making dinner for yourself sometimes, so I eat this. Easy peasy.’
She still appeared reluctant to eat so he took a plate and served himself a bit of everything.
‘It’s okay if you don’t want to have any, but I’m starving, so hope you don’t mind if I eat while we chat.’ He turned away to open the fridge, giving Bindi time to serve herself without the pressure of watching her. ‘I’m going to have an OJ rather than a coffee. Is that okay with you?’
‘Fine,’ she said, and when he turned back with the orange juice in hand, he hid his relief at seeing that she’d heaped her plate like he had. He poured juice into two glasses and placed one in front of her before taking a seat next to her at the island bench.
He held up his glass. ‘Cheers to old friends.’
‘I thought you didn’t like having friends,’ she said with a soft smile as she tapped her glass against his.
‘Maybe I’m getting mellow in my old age?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, because thirty is ancient.’
‘Feels it sometimes.’ He drank half his juice before placing the glass on the bench. ‘Being back here is a shock.’
‘Then why did you come back?’
He had to show her some semblance of trust in the hope she’d do the same. ‘Can I tell you something in confidence?’
She nodded.
‘My dad’s will stipulated I had to run the farm for a year after he died, otherwise Mum and I wouldn’t get a cent. So I’m stuck here for a year.’
‘Wow. That’s … weird.’
‘I can think of other words for it. Conniving, sly, controlling.’
‘You didn’t get on with your dad?’
‘No.’
‘I liked your mum. She used to volunteer at school athletics and the swimming carnival, and she always saved the biggest slice of banana bread for me.’
