‘Some people see it as a flaw, but I’m quite fond of it myself.’
‘Good for you!’ Heather nodded. ‘Ah, here’s Cathy. Cathy, this is—’
‘Megan, yes, we met yesterday.’
‘Hello again,’ Meg said.
Cathy gave her a tight-lipped smile in response. ‘How lovely you could come. Do you have connections to Hartwell, Megan, or is it just your research that brings you here?’
‘Just my research.’ Meg swallowed, feeling like this woman could see right through her.
‘And where’s your family based?’
‘I don’t have much family. It was just me and Mum growing up. She’s in a home now,’ Meg added, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ Heather winced and shook her head. ‘Is she sick?’
‘Okay, Mum, that’s enough,’ said Issy, as she joined them again. ‘Sorry, Meg.’
‘It’s okay, really,’ Meg said. ‘She has dementia.’
‘Terrible disease,’ Heather said. ‘My father died from it.’ She reached out and took Meg’s hands. ‘If there’s anything we can do to help, you let us know.’
Meg smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘I mean it. Anything at all.’ Heather’s eyes flashed as she gave Meg’s hands a squeeze.
The conversation was interrupted by an imposing man with a bushy moustache hovering nearby. He looked familiar.
‘Excuse me, girls,’ Heather said, turning to greet him.
‘That’s the mayor,’ Issy said, dropping her voice.
Of course. Meg recognised him from the council website.
‘He’s a big supporter of the development too. You should have a chat to him while you’re here.’ Issy hesitated. ‘This might seem a little out of left field, and please say no if you’re not interested, but I wondered if you might like to write some articles about the Entertainment Precinct? There’s been some negative press around the development and I don’t want that to overshadow the opening. Our PR team will be able to use their contacts to get them published. I’m not sure if that’s something you do, but I don’t really trust journalists, to be honest, so I thought of you. What do you think?’
‘Oh, ah … I have a lot on my plate, with my doctorate …’
‘Why don’t you have a think about it and let me know.’ Issy took out her phone. ‘What’s your number? I’ll text you so you have mine.’
Meg recited her number and felt her phone vibrate in her bag with Issy’s message. A waiter approached, asking people to sit down for dinner.
‘I’ll show you to your table.’ Issy lowered her voice. ‘You were sitting next to my niece Daisy originally, but I swapped your name with someone else to save you from a truly excruciating conversational experience. All she can talk about is TikTok.’
‘Thanks,’ Meg said, still considering doing a runner.
‘Pen, this is Meg,’ Issy said when they reached the table. A curvy brunette looked up from the seat next to Meg’s. ‘Penny and I went to Beecham together.’ Issy looked at her tiny gold watch. ‘Oh, it’s time for my speech.’
Meg sat down as Issy floated through the crowd to a lectern on the podium. Entrée plates of kingfish carpaccio were placed on the tables as she made a speech about children with rare diseases, which explained what CRDF meant. As they ate, a slide show of intubated babies and pale toddlers rotated on an enormous screen.
‘Poor kids,’ Penny whispered. ‘Such a good cause.’
Meg nodded earnestly and looked around. Did no one else think it was strange to eat raw fish while viewing photos of dying babies?
Once the entrées were finished, she looked for the mayor and found him seated on a table near the ladies’ toilets. Perfect. She excused herself and walked in that direction.
‘Excuse me, Tony,’ she said when she reached the table. She’d checked his name on the Lindsay Shire Council website to make sure she got it right. ‘Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to commend you on your persistence with the Hartwell Gaol redevelopment in the face of some very vocal objections. Lindsay’s lucky to have such a visionary leader.’
