Perhaps she’d gone too far in her involvement, but it had become important to her. And after the twins left, it was all she’d had. The twins were adults now, and firefighters. That job came with responsibilities and risk, with long hours and midnight call-outs, just as hers had. Maybe now they might understand what had driven her for all those years, and how much she had hated being away from them. Perhaps they could begin to forgive her for that, even if not for the big lie that still stood between them. But maybe if she could explain they would, if not forgive, at least understand. That would be a start. She had to give herself hope.
The tiny creature in her arms had drunk its fill and its eyes were tightly closed. Trying hard not to disturb it, she put it into a woven basket, which she returned to its place in her laundry. The joey would need feeding again in a couple of hours. She settled to read, as she did most days, but today she couldn’t focus. Not on the novel by one of her favourite authors, not even on the website devoted to the care and conservation of koalas. Finally, she gave up. What she wanted—needed—was human company. She wanted to talk to someone. About something other than wildlife rescue.
For the first time in many years, she admitted that she was lonely. After the twins left, she had withdrawn into herself and found solace in her work. She would never be rich, but money had never been important to her. The local wildlife sanctuary and donors kept her going. Her work was all that mattered. She didn’t need fancy clothes or posh food or holidays. Or even people. Except, today she was beginning to realise that maybe she did need people. And it was time to do something about that.
***
Town was busy for a Saturday morning, so she parked a little way from the store. She needed some groceries and Kelly was a chatty person. Maybe they could talk for a while and she wouldn’t feel so much as if life had passed her by.
As she was getting out of the car, Deb Fraser walked up.
‘Are you coming to knitting club?’
‘What?’
‘Surely you know about knitting club? We meet in Rose’s store every couple of weeks.’
A knitting club sounded great, but there was one big problem. ‘I don’t knit.’ Carol tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
‘Most of us didn’t until we joined. It’s supposed to be all about knitting, but mostly it’s to enjoy chatting and cake.’
‘Are you sure I’d, you know … Well, I wouldn’t want to barge in where I—’
‘Of course you’d be welcome. The more the merrier. Come on.’
This was the first time Carol had been into the knitting shop. There was quite a group clustered near a big central table that was covered with wool and needles and patterns. As was the way in small towns, she knew most of the women. They’d exchanged a nod at the shops or the post office. A couple had sought her help with injured animals. She was disappointed not to see Anna among the knitters. Anna was the person she probably knew best of all the people in town.
‘Good afternoon, ladies.’ Rose stepped forward to greet them. ‘Carol, how lovely to see you. There’s always an extra chair and a cup of tea.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re the koala lady, aren’t you?’ The question came from the youngest member of the group, a girl of about seven.
‘I suppose I am.’ Carol lowered herself to the child’s height. ‘And you are?’
‘I’m Vicki. My daddy and Bree got married last month. I was the flower girl.’
‘Well, I bet you were a very pretty flower girl,’ Carol said.
‘Bree owns the alpaca stud, and is Rose’s granddaughter,’ Deb whispered in her ear. ‘Do you know Matt the real estate agent?’
Carol was beginning to realise she knew very little about this town where she had lived for almost five years. She had moved here and retreated into herself, living in a house full of memories. Panic touched her. This group of well-established friends was too much for her solitary soul. She felt an overwhelming urge to leave, until a snippet of conversation floated through the noise.
‘Anna and the handsome firefighter raised the alarm. They were out to dinner.’ There was a hint of self-congratulation in the voice.
‘I knew they would be right for each other. There’s the other brother, too. But I hear he’s a drinker …’
Carol tried to glance casually in the direction of the voices, but she couldn’t see who was speaking.
Rose took her arm to lead her to the refreshments table. ‘Now, what will you have? Tea? Coffee? Cake?’
‘Tea and cake, please.’ Carol tried not to sound hesitant.
‘That’s easy. Now, I do hope you have come to knit?’
‘I’ve never knitted before. Never had the time.’
‘That’s fine. I have a couple of beginner packages here. You try one and have a go. If you don’t like it, that’s no problem, I’ll simply give it to the next victim—I mean, new member.’ Rose chuckled and Carol found herself smiling too.
