Page 87 of The Orchard at Rosevale
‘No, I’m taking Obi for a quick walk, but there’s been an accident on the freeway so traffic has been diverted along local roads and it’s bedlam. Hold on, I’m about to duck into a park where it should be quieter.’
Ferne smiled as she heard Bette talking to her dog. ‘Obi, we’ve talked about this. It’s not polite to sniff butts other than your own.’ She’d miss her new friend, but it wouldn’t be for long. She’d be back sooner rather than later, once she’d given Cruz some of the TLC he deserved and herself a chance to heal.
She’d spent her life longing to run. Even when she’d been with a guy who loved her unconditionally, she’d deemed him not good enough and left. In doing so, she’d ended up with an unsuitable man because she wanted stability and a child, and had still wanted to run. Lately, she’d run again, from the farm and her dead husband’s secrets. And in craving a transient life of travel, she hoped to outrun her past.
Time to stop running.
‘Okay, Ferne, I’m back. How are you? How’s the ankle? Need anything?’
‘Thanks, I’m good. The ankle is healing, but I wanted to let you know I’m heading back to the farm for a few weeks. My son sounds like he’s swamped, and I can recuperate there while helping out, taking the boring admin off his plate so he can attend to the everyday necessities.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Bette paused. ‘How’s Taj taking the news? I can’t have my mate pining for weeks.’
Ferne had wondered if Taj had told Bette how she’d ended things between them, but like a true gentleman, it seemed he hadn’t said a word. But Ferne didn’t want Bette bailing up Taj and asking about their relationship; she had to say something even if she felt disloyal discussing their situation behind his back.
‘Actually, I haven’t seen him in a week. I acted like an ass and said some awful things, so we’re cooling it for now.’
‘Sorry to hear that. Taj is one of the good ones.’
Didn’t Ferne know it. Tears stung her eyes.
‘For what it’s worth, Ferne, I’d give anything for a guy like Taj to look at me the way he looks at you. Take it from someone who knows, once you’re over fifty, dating is the pits. Men either have enough baggage to weigh down a plane, or they’re going through a midlife crisis and cheating, or they’re too old and past it.’ She made a pfft sound. ‘I’m still putting myself out there in the hope of finding happiness, even if it’s fleeting. So if you’ve already found it, my advice is to grab it with both hands and hang on. And I’m not just saying that because Taj is a friend. You’re both good people and deserve it.’
Bette’s pep talk made Ferne want to book an Uber and head over to Taj’s house. But she needed to give him time to listen to her message—hopefully—and herself time to confront her demons before she could embrace the idea of them.
‘Thanks, Bette. I’ve already called him and grovelled, so I’ll wait until I come back to reach out again.’
‘And if you want me to give him a kick up the backside, just let me know.’
Ferne chuckled and Bette joined in.
‘Don’t be a stranger while you’re on the farm, okay? I won’t pester you, but feel free to text or call any time.’
‘Shall do. You take care and we’ll share a bottle of chardonnay when I return.’
‘You’re on.’
After Bette hung up, Ferne dashed away the tears with the back of her hand and pulled up the country train timetable.
Time to head back to the place she couldn’t wait to escape.
CHAPTER
47
Cruz thrived under pressure. Always had.
He hadn’t had time to miss El since she’d left. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he might believe it. Because in the manic rush of ensuring all legalities had been covered, getting the restaurant looking perfect, repeatedly testing every dish he’d be serving, and wording Bindi up on how to present them, thoughts of El would pop up at random times. While dicing chives to sprinkle on the avocado hollandaise. While whisking eggs for the avocado pavs. While double-checking the allergy alerts for each item on the menu.
During his busy days, he’d relegate thoughts of El to the back of his mind while he multitasked, but when he fell into bed exhausted, usually after midnight, the memories would come crowding back and there wasn’t one damn thing he could do to stop them.
Insomnia plagued him, and to make matters worse, his mum had arrived yesterday. Not that he didn’t like seeing her, but she had this way of looking at him like she could see down to his soul. She’d always done it and the last thing he needed as the grand opening drew closer was to be interrogated.
She’d left him alone last night, retiring to her room early, citing ankle soreness after the long trip on the train and coach. But she’d been subdued when he’d picked her up from the station, too, despite her reassurance she was fine.
‘Good morning,’ Ferne said, entering the kitchen as he fed the last orange segments into the juicer. ‘Is that your famous orange, kale and ginger kick-starter?’
‘Of course.’ He handed her the glass he’d already filled. ‘You looked like you needed it last night.’
