‘Chill, babe,’ Charlee said. ‘You know Ethan and Ham are just worried about you.’
Hamish nodded agreement. ‘That night, Tara was mumbling something about ducklings, and Evie Schenscher told you, Jemma, that there was some story about a ute deliberately ploughing through a family of ducks. Plus Ethan heard that Tara had been at the skatepark talking to some guys in a ute.’
‘I keep telling you, I don’t hang out at the skatepark,’ Tara insisted, though her voice was quavery.
‘Regardless, right now we need to focus on this. Look at the pigs, Jemma.’
Jemma caught Charlee’s eye and realised she was deliberately defusing the situation, so she bent toward the phone again. ‘Okay, let’s have a look at what you’ve got.’ The words were throwaway, meant to buy her time to ponder Tara’s reaction. However, she ended up replaying the video several times, appalled at the conditions the pigs were being kept in. ‘I’d love to get a clearer look at this,’ she said, squinting at the screen.
‘So we do have a case?’ Charlee asked excitedly.
‘I’m not saying that. Animal cruelty is a bit of a messy topic, because the treatment of livestock is governed by a specific set of regulations, not the general act.’
‘But plenty of activists have managed to get positive results,’ Charlee argued.
‘They have. But that’s generally because they’ve had a camera planted in the facility to record the human interactions and treatment of the animals. A video of these disgustingly crowded pens, while gut wrenching, isn’t going to get you the result you want.’ She scrolled back to the footage of the dog. ‘Honestly, if it had been clear on here that this poor pup doesn’t have shelter and water, you’d be more likely to get some traction. However, I’d say the existence of this footage is probably enough to make any potential action from the facility go away. That only works if you don’t make the video public, though,’ she cautioned. ‘It’s the ace up our sleeve if I need to deal with the company.’
‘So you reckon Ethan doesn’t need to worry?’ Hamish said.
She checked her watch and stood. ‘Providing there was no damage on the property, I don’t think so. Nothing for you to stay up at night over, anyway,’ she added to Ethan. ‘If anything comes up, we’ll deal with it then. But right now, I’ve got to make tracks. I’m supposed to be at my clients’ to finalise their paperwork,’ she said to Hamish. She’d never become accustomed to dropping client names into the conversation. ‘I’ll be back a bit later on, though.’ Hopefully Hamish’s houseguest would have disappeared by then.
‘I’ll stoke the fire,’ Hamish said with a grin.
‘That’s Evie and Paul’s you’re headed to?’ Ethan asked, destroying any chance of client confidentiality. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosey, but I’ve got a portable mobility scooterin the back of my car for Paul. I don’t suppose you could take it out there for me?’
‘A scooter?’
‘Yeah. Evie said Paul’s having a bit of trouble getting around when they come into town. He reckons he doesn’t want to look like an old fossil with a mobility aid, so I had the guys at the shop custom-finish one for him. It looks pretty cool, all tricked up, and I reckon it’ll tickle his fancy enough that he might use it. Thing is, if I take it out there, I know they’ll try to pay for it. But if you drop it off …’ He shrugged and gave a diffident grin.
‘Sure. Put it in the car,’ Jemma said. She frowned as she dug in her bag for her keys. Was it possible she had misjudged the tattooed university lecturer?
29
Hamish
He’d never been happier to hear a storm blow in. Not because it meant he’d get out on the seeder tomorrow, but because it had given him an excuse to stoke the fire in the lounge room before Jemma returned from Evie and Paul’s. And more heat meant fewer clothes.
Alongside him on the sofa, laptop on her knees, Jemma swivelled to flip her long legs over his thighs. ‘See? Making time for us. Multitasking for the win.’ she said, looking up from her screen with a grin.
She wore glasses when she was working and he’d never seen anything cuter in his life.
The storm prowled toward them, attacking with ferocious growls. A crack of thunder rumbled through the room and a log fell in the fireplace as though the tremble had dislodged it.
Jemma glanced at the window, where the premature darkness of the storm almost assuaged his guilt at not being out at the farm working. Lachlan would understand whyhe’d taken the day off: he’d been in the same situation only a year back, when Charity had consumed his every waking moment. Honestly, his brother wasn’t a whole lot different now, his life revolving around the woman he loved. Hamish smiled to himself: for the first time, there was a chance he could look forward to something similar.
‘That storm sounds so wild,’ Jemma said. ‘More elemental than they seem in the city.’
‘You want to ask Charity about wild storms. She’s sure got a story to tell.’
‘How about you tell me?’
‘If that’s what you want me to use my mouth for …’
The warm silence of the room, broken only by their murmured words, wrapped them for long minutes as Jemma proved that she had other plans for his lips. Eventually she sighed, straightened and readjusted her laptop.
‘Just like that, your focus is back on work?’ he said, stretching his legs.
‘Not back—it never departs,’ she warned.
