‘They’re surprisingly edible,’ Bel assured him. ‘The kids wanted to invite you over for afternoon tea but we thought maybe you were a bit busy.’
‘So we brought some over to surprise you, like Mummy does with your dinner,’ Ayla put in.
‘Thanks, guys,’ he said, smiling at the beaming faces behind Bel. ‘I was working out in the shed. But how about we have afternoon tea here?’
The back doors were thrust open and four little bodies were scrambling out of the car before Bel even had time to agree. ‘I guess that’s a yes,’ she murmured, then unclipped her seatbelt to slide from the driver’s seat. She glanced up when Dean lowered his head to place a gentle kiss on her lips before moving back to allow her to walk past.
‘This is a nice surprise,’ he said. ‘I’ve been trying to come up with an excuse to go over to your place all day.’
‘You didn’t need an excuse,’ she said, suddenly shy but also happy that she wasn’t the only one feeling this way.
‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about yesterday.’
She opened her mouth to agree but didn’t get a chance to reply as Ben came over and began jumping up and down like an excited puppy. Dean and Bel swapped a wry look before he herded the kids inside to organise drinks and jam drops.
Bel clicked her tongue irritably as her ringtone sounded during the chaos of breakfast the next morning. She searched forher phone, locating it under a hat on the bench. ‘Put this in your bag, Ivy,’ she said handing over the hat and answering the call in a breathless rush.
‘Is that Bel Buckley?’
‘Yes, it is,’ she said, distracted by the twins arguing over a toy they weren’t even supposed to be playing with.
‘This is Peggy Armstrong fromMornings with Georgia-Mae. We’d like to organise an interview with you tomorrow morning.’
‘Sorry, what?’ Bel watchedMornings with Georgia-Maemost mornings.Is this a joke?
‘Your story about Elvis the missing rooster has been gaining a lot of traction and we think it would be a great fit for our breakfast audience.’
‘Uh … really?’ Good grief. She’d never imagined her post would get this kind of reaction.
‘Absolutely. I’ll send you an email with all the details and get back in touch with you a little bit later today.’
Bel rattled off her email address to the chipper woman before lowering her phone to the bench. What on earth had she just agreed to?
After school drop-off, she parked up the road and took out her phone, opening it to find an email from the TV show waiting in her inbox. They were sending a freelance cameraman out from Dubbo early the next day to set up for a live interview.
‘A live morning show appearance? That’s … wow,’ Dean said when she called him in a panic.
‘It’s crazy is what it is,’ she clarified.
‘Well, you wanted to raise some awareness. I guess this will do it.’
‘Yeah, but now this missing rooster sounds dumb.’
‘I hate to tell you, but it always sounded kinda dumb,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Okay, sorry, that’s not being helpful. Look at it this way, you’ll be promoting Wessex and the Big Rooster. Maybe this will give the tourism campaign a bit of a push?’
‘Maybe,’ she conceded dully. She just wished she wasn’t the one who was going to have to talk about it. She already knew they wanted to use it as light-hearted entertainment, and she didn’t particularly want to be the butt of the joke.
‘So get the progress committee involved,’ Dean suggested. ‘They’ll probably want to be.’
She’d already sent a message to Betty and forwarded the email. With any luck, Betty would step in. She was never afraid of being front and centre.
Bel had barely slept; she was way too nervous about the whole stupid interview. The kids were beyond excited, staying up past their bedtime to make signs to hold up in the background while she was being interviewed and, for once, they were ready even before Bel the next morning.
She shouldn’t have been surprised at the crowd, which had already gathered in front of the statue of Elvis on the main street. Word of mouth spread news faster than any phone line and it seemed like the entire population of Wessex had turned out for their fifteen minutes of fame on national television.
Even Bob Baxter was there. ‘The hide of that man,’ Betty scoffed, staring daggers. ‘Coming to witness all the ruckus over his crime.’
‘Make sure you don’t say that on TV,’ Bel suggested weakly. She hadn’t gotten out of the interview completely, but Betty had been more than happy to do it with her, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t be needing to say much once Betty got started.
