The close of voting was only supposed to be a mild, superficial ceremony. However, Betty had managed to turn it into something of a theatrical extravaganza. Dressed in a purple velvet robe, complete with fluffy collar, and wearingwhite gloves, Betty gave a heartfelt speech to rival any royal ceremonial closing. The crowd of seven swapped awkward glances as the speech came to an end, the scattering of applause clearly not the thunderous ovation Betty had been hoping for. With an indignant sniff, she left the stage, snapping her fingers for Sid the bartender to bring the box of ballots to the back lounge area, which had been designated the official counting room.
‘Well, that’s fifteen minutes of my life I won’t get back,’ Emma muttered as they walked outside.
‘Great turnout,’ Bel said as she viewed the crowd in the park. The population was swollen with people from smaller townships and farming families from remote stations making the trip to Wessex for an outing. Bel loved seeing people greeting each other after long spells of isolation, bumping into familiar faces and catching up on gossip and news. The phone and the internet could only do so much, and face-to-face contact was a luxury when you lived so far out of town.
‘Bel!’
Bel and Emma turned to find Larkin waving madly from the middle of the street.
The group walking towards them stood out like a sore thumb; they could have been filming an advert for RM Williams or Thomas Cook. It wasn’t that they were dressed inappropriately; it was that everything looked brand-new and so … well, stiff. Bel had to stop herself looking for any price tags that may still be attached.
‘Oh look, it’s Country Chic Barbie and her friends,’ Emma said in a saccharine tone.
‘Stop it,’ Bel said, biting back a grin. There was no real love lost between her cousin and her best friend. It wasn’t usually a problem, since the two hardly ever occupied the same space, but growing up, it had occasionally been difficult during school holidays when Bel wanted to spend time with them both.
Emma couldn’t deal with how spoiled and entitled Larkin had always been. While everyone else around here made do, the Buckleys from Glentoberon loved to come to town, show off and flaunt their wealth. Bel did think Emma was remembering things with a slightly jaded edge, though. Or maybe it was that Bel was used to the way her relatives were and ignored it. Either way, Emma couldn’t stand Larkin and Larkin simply didn’t have anything in common with Emma, which always put Bel in an awkward spot.
‘There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ Larkin called. ‘Oh. Hello, Emma,’ she added in a noticeably less enthusiastic tone.
‘Larkin,’ Emma responded, equally unimpressed.
Bel’s gaze was drawn to Tate, who was walking towards her, the smoulder on his face already tripping her heart rate and drawing out an embarrassingly sappy smile.
‘Oh, geez,’ she heard Emma whisper, and she sent back a harshly whispered, ‘Behave!’
‘Tate, this is my friend, Emma. Emma, Tate.’
‘HiTate,’ Emma said, using her secretary-of-the-progress-committee voice. ‘I’ve heardallabout you.’
‘All good things, I hope?’ he said, sending her a grin. Bel took secret delight that his smile seemed to catch Emma a little off guard, judging by the quick clearing of her throat she needed to do all of a sudden.
‘Absolutely,’ Emma assured him.
‘I was hoping I could borrow Bel for a little while, so she could show me around town?’
‘Sure, no problem.’
Bel sent her friend a quick look, silently asking if she was sure, and was relieved not to find any hidden irritation. There was no such thing with Emma, anyway—you never had to guess if you were in trouble.
‘I’m going to buy popcorn and head over to the jumping castle to watch my husband try to wrangle our wayward children.’
‘I’m going to find the others,’ Larkin announced. ‘Bel, you take care of Tate for me,’ she said with a wave and, behind his back, a wink.
