‘Of course.’
Anna paid for her supplies and left the shop. As she did, a group of people emerged from the Alpaca Emporium two doors down. The emporium was a knitting and craft store, and served as a meeting point for visitors on their way for an alpaca bushwalk on the nearby farm. The group, which included several children, were carrying shopping bags and chatting about their visit, which had obviously been a huge success. Anna was glad. Farm owner Bree had only been in the Ridge about a year and had recently married the town’s real estate agent, Matt. Anna had helped with the successful birth of rare twin alpacas at the farm and felt a connection with them that Bree in no way discouraged. She often dropped in to visit the sweet animals. Bree and her grandmother, Rose, who ran the emporium, were the closest things she had to real friends in the town. She might drop in to say hi to Rose.
A shocked cry came from the people ahead of her. A child’s voice: ‘Mummy. Look at that lady’s face.’ The little girl was pointing at Anna.
Had she not been holding a box of groceries, Anna’s reaction would have been to cover her cheek. Instead, she tilted her head forward and away, so her blonde hair fell over the left side of her face, hiding the scar.
‘Shh.’ A woman touched the child’s shoulder. ‘And don’t point. It’s rude.’
The little girl frowned, and the woman, presumably her mother, looked at Anna. ‘Sorry,’ she said, her eyes never actually meeting Anna’s as she looked away. The rest of the group all stared, then they, too, turned away in embarrassment. At least, that’s what Anna chose to think it was.
As they walked to the cars parked a little further down the street, Anna reached her own vehicle. She opened the passenger-side door and dropped her box on the seat. She slammed the door with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. This was far from the first time something like this had happened. And it wouldn’t be the last. That didn’t make it any less hurtful. She’d come to Wagtail Ridge thinking a small town where everyone knew her would prevent days like this. And mostly she was right. Mostly.
‘Anna, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?’
Rose had emerged from the emporium. Her face was friendly and inviting as always, but the small frown between her eyes suggested she’d heard what happened.
‘Thanks, Rose. But—’
‘No buts. Come on in and join me for some tea. I have a new lemongrass and peppermint flavour which is lovely. And quite calming.’
‘I wouldn’t want to scare any more customers away from your shop.’ The bitter words were out before she could stop them.
‘Anna Prentiss. Stop that. I won’t have it. Now, come inside … Please.’
Anna followed Rose into the shop. Within a couple of minutes, she was seated at the big central table where the town’s knitting club met for tea and cake, a cup of steaming tea in front of her. She picked it up and sniffed. The smell alone was refreshing. She took a sip and felt the hurt slip away.
‘Thanks, Rose.’ She ran her fingers along her scarred cheek. ‘I usually don’t let it get to me. But every now and then.’
‘People can be awful sometimes.’
‘She was just a child. She reacted as a child would. It’s fine. I should be used to it by now.’
They sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes.
‘Have you ever thought …’ Rose stopped. ‘No. Sorry. Forget that I spoke. It’s none of my business.’
‘Plastic surgery?’ Anna smiled. ‘It’s fine. Yes, of course I have. It would be more plastic surgery, really. I had some after the original injury, and they said I could come back for more after the wounds had healed.’
‘And?’
‘It would be expensive and painful, and I wouldn’t be able to work for a while. There are some risks involved, too. I don’t want to put myself through all that. And I’m not certain how much better my face would look after the surgery. I might still frighten small children on the streets.’
‘Oh, Anna. I’m so sorry. I—’
‘Rose, believe me, it’s fine. You get used to it after a while. Now, I’d better get going. I have patients at the clinic to see to.’
‘Before you go, the knitters wanted me to ask you if you would come to the next meeting.’
‘I really don’t have the time for knitting. Or the skill. But thanks anyway.’
Bree had mentioned how often the knitting club had arranged for her and Matt to ‘accidentally’ be in the same place at the same time when they first met. The matchmaking had worked out fine for her, but it wouldn’t be the same for Anna. And there was really no one she wanted to ‘bump into’. Well, there was Justin, but that wasn’t going to happen, and she didn’t want to be part of any matchmaking attempt, no matter how well intentioned.
‘Not to knit. After the fires, everyone was wondering if you could give us some guidelines for what to do with injured wildlife if it happens again. Or even pets.’
That was different. And important. ‘Of course. Let me know when the meetings are on and if I’m free, I’d be more than happy to drop by.’
‘Thanks.’
