‘And Jemma’s something of a prodigy in the legal field,’ Sam added. ‘So definitely no hospitality work for her.’
‘We’re getting a replacement for Stokes already?’ Matt, the vet, said. Sam had quietly introduced Jemma to him and a couple of teachers as they took their seats. ‘He only closed his offices at the start of the year, didn’t he?’
‘God, no!’ Jemma blurted. ‘I’m here to visit.’
‘And help out Ma and Pops with some financial planning,’ Sam’s brother, Jack, said. He lifted his glass in a toast to his sister. ‘Cheers for bringing a solicitor into the family, sis.’
‘Barrister. And I really don’t do that kind of work,’ Jemma protested. ‘Like I told Pierce, I can provide your grandparents some basic information, but they’ll need an estate lawyer.’
‘I’m sure Ma and Pops will be happy just to talk through their issues,’ Jack said. The whole idea of planning for, you know,after, is pretty daunting for them.’ Pain flashed across his face and he shared a glance with Sam. ‘And f-for us, too.’
It was moments like these that Jemma was glad she didn’t have much empathy—although the uncomfortable silence was enough to make even her want to change the subject. ‘Hipster’s still a vibe out here?’ she said with a nod at Hamish’s right hand, the nails painted alternately red and white.
He snorted. ‘Hardly.’
‘Ah. A daughter?’ she guessed. Only a child would do such a dodgy manicure.
A slow grin curved Hamish’s mouth. ‘You know, if you want to find out my marital status, you only have to ask.’
Laughter rippled around the table. ‘And I assure you, had I wanted to know, I would have asked,’ Jemma snapped back. This was why she didn’t socialise: she didn’t have full control of the situation and that left her vulnerable to judgement.
Unfazed, Hamish tore off another wedge of pide. The garlic of the fava beans wafted across the table as he scooped up bakla ezmesi. ‘Time to sing for my supper.’
‘You’re on tonight, Ham?’ called a girl from the far end of the table. Jemma had noticed her casting longing glances their way for the last twenty minutes.
‘Don’t think Mutfagim Askim is quite ready for that, Tara,’ Hamish said. ‘Just mood music. Any requests?’
‘Brilliant idea, Rik,’ Dad said to the owner, who was replacing mezze dishes as fast as they emptied. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Sam. ‘Maybe we should look into live music forPelicanet?’
Hamish had made his way to the far corner of the room, reaching behind a stool to retrieve a guitar. He took the stool, settling the instrument across his lap, and Jemma steeled herself for some country music favourite interrupting what could have been a decent meal, despite the socialising aspect.
Thanks to Nonno’s passion for classical music—generally played stirringly loud—she immediately recognised the opening chords: Mozart’sRondo Alla Turca, the Turkish march. The classical guitar explained Hamish’s long nails, Jemma thought as she watched his fingers fly over the strings. She was irritated that her first assessment had been incorrect, but plucking guitar strings was still no excuse for his bizarre manicure.
Nail polish in the colours of the Turkish flag, she realised with a silent groan.
Her father’s amused gaze met hers across the top of his glass. ‘Civilised, right?’
‘Yeah, I get it. Life in the sticks is idyllic. But still not for me, okay?’
‘Never say never,’ one of the teachers chimed in. ‘I thought that, not so long ago. Then I met Hamish’s brother.’
‘His brother?’
‘Lachlan,’ a guy further down the table said, raising a hand.
She might have noticed his red-gold similarity to Hamish if she’d not been avoiding eye contact and, by extension, interaction. But, thanks to Mum, she knew that unless she had control of the situation, it was safer to go unnoticed.
5
Hamish
‘So?’ Charity said with a mischievous lift of her eyebrows.
‘So, what?’ Hamish replied, taking a seat alongside Indi Jaensch. Jack and Lucie had made tracks with their young family relatively early, and Sam and Pierce had taken the frostiness of Jemma’s company with them soon after. Only the core group of thirty-somethings remained at the restaurant table. And Tara Paech, he noted wryly. Didn’t matter how he tried to make it clear that he wasn’t interested in Hayden’s sister, she obviously had a thing for him. Though she also went cow-eyed around Justin Hein, he’d noticed.
For the last twenty minutes, the conversation had been on the usual farming topics, primarily the lack of decent rain as, after a promising shower early in the season, the weather had cleared.
‘Jemma di Angelis?’ Charity said. ‘Thoughts?’ She’d obviously decided it was time to change the subject.
