‘Okay, you’re right. I’ll put in another dollar,’ Bel said. ‘Just put the lid on the lunch box and pack it in your bag,’ she told Ivy, who was still examining its contents doubtfully. ‘Ben! We have to go!’
‘I can’t find my tractor!’ he yelled back angrily.
Bel let out a long sigh. They hadn’t even left the house and she was exhausted. People actually did this motherhood thing on purpose?
‘Got everything under control, I see,’ Dean said as he opened the back door.
‘I thought I did,’ she mumbled, heading into the lounge room only to find Lucy playing with her kitchen set, barefoot. ‘Lucy! Where are your shoes and socks? We’re running late.’
‘I don’t like those socks. They’re scratchy.’
‘Can you please go and see what Ben’s doing?’ she asked Dean. ‘I need to find some different socks.’
Fifteen minutes later, she had all four kids strapped in their car seats and was standing by the driver-side door. ‘Thanks for your help,’ she said to Dean. ‘Oh,’ she added, swivelling back to face him, ‘what was it you came over for?’
‘I stopped by to see if you needed a hand, but you had it mostly under control,’ he said.
‘Yeah. Mostly,’ she said, grimacing.
‘I’m going to take some measurements for the pen while I’m here.’
‘Okay. Well … thanks again.’ She waved and closed the door, starting the engine of Emma’s four-wheel drive. They were only ten minutes late, which wasn’t too bad, all things considered.
But she was going to need to get everyone out the door a lot faster if she was ever to match Emma’s standard.
After school and daycare drop-off, Bel returned to something that she’d been wondering about ever since coming back to Wessex. There didn’t seem to be any noticeable influx of tourists. There weren’t any motorhomes or caravans in the specially designated carpark the committee had located within easy walking distance of the main street, just dusty utes and dirty four-wheel drives like the one she was in—farmvehicles and locals. The Big Rooster had been officially open for a few months now, but there was no sign that it was the drawcard the committee had been hoping it would be. A shame, considering all their hard work.
Bel pulled up at the bowser outside Dwyers’, unable to help the fond smile that found its way to her lips as she thought back over the years she’d spent working here. The familiar jingle of the bell and the smell of the old shop triggered another avalanche of memories.
Doreen glanced up from her crossword puzzle and looked at Bel over the top of a pair of smudged glasses. ‘Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,’ she said in her raspy, pack-a-day voice. ‘I heard you were back.’
‘Hello, Doreen. Yeah, I came back to help out while Emma is in Sydney with Craig.’
‘Sorry business. Sounds like he was a lucky boy. Not too many would have survived an accident like that.’
Their district had lost too many people through farm accidents over the years. It could be a hazardous job, working with big machinery in remote locations, and often alone.
‘He’s putting up a good fight.’ Bel tapped the card on the reader and waited for the payment to process.
‘How’s Emma doing?’
‘She seems to be holding it together, but I can’t imagine it’s easy for her. All she can do is wait and see what the extent of the damage is. She said they’d have a better idea in a day or two.’
‘So, you gonna be looking for your old job back?’ Doreen asked. Clearly, compassionate Doreen had left the building, replaced once more by blunt, to-the-point Doreen.
‘Uh … no. I haven’t decided if I’ll be staying.’
Doreen gave a low grunt. ‘Apparently, no one wants to work anymore. Looks like I’ll be stuck here until the day I drop off the perch.’
‘Oh. Well,’ Bel said awkwardly, unsure how to respond to that. ‘I’d better get going. It was nice to see you again, Doreen.’
The woman muttered something unintelligible before going back to her crossword and Bel headed out to the vehicle. It was strange to think that once, that job had been her life. Doreen could have been her, years from now, if she hadn’t left Wessex. A shiver ran up her spine.
Bel moved the four-wheel drive to the carpark beside the Big Rooster and got out, staring up at the huge rooster with quiet admiration. They really had done a great job. She took a photo, feeling like a tourist, and then felt sad because that was what they’d been fighting so hard to achieve, yet thereweren’tany tourists coming out to see their little town.
Well, I’ll be one—and proud of it. She climbed the windy staircase inside the statue and emerged at the top of Elvis’s comb, taking photos of the main street and the vista of farmland beyond. The views were amazing.
After a few more close-ups of Elvis, she wandered down the main street and snapped some more photos. Pride began to seep through her veins. She’d always loved her hometown,but she had a new appreciation for it after being away. It was as though she were seeing it through brand-new eyes. She supposed to an extent that was true. She felt like a different person to the one who’d left in lots of ways, some good and some not so good, but her experiences had given her a new perspective on life. Craig’s accident had also given her something to think about—life was precious and it could be over in a moment.
