Clem caught Seb’s eye.Are you seeing what I’m seeing?
He shook his head, amusement twitching at his lips, and mouthed the word ‘fangirl’. Clem narrowed her eyes at him, grabbed a cloth and swiped it across the spotless counter.
Louisa smiled as she opened the door for Emily. ‘Always rushing about.’
‘Careful in that fog,’ Ian called over his shoulder before turning to greet Clem and Sebastian. ‘Foggy all the way here. Keeping the customers at bay too, I see.’
Clem followed the Brealys’ gaze around the now-empty cafe. ‘Definitely quieter this week. But winter will be over before we know it, and business will pick up then. How’s things with you guys? I bet it’s nicer without a camera crew camped out at your front door. Spencer’s good? Nice surprise to see Emily …’
Ian gave his order to Sebastian and started loading fresh vegetables into their bags.
‘I’m not sure we’re allowed to say,’ Louisa said, sharing a look with her husband. ‘It’s got to stay hush hush.’
Clem didn’t have to turn around to know there’d be a smirk on Sebastian’s face. She didn’t consider herself invested, but the not knowing was downright infuriating.
Clem searched Ian and Louisa’s faces for a hint, anything that might give some indication of whether Spencer and Emily were an item, or if Emily just happened to be passing through town, but Ian was suddenly absorbed in the produce and Louisa had busied herself fossicking through her handbag.
Louisa handed Clem a flyer. Setting the cleaning cloth down, Clem read the headline.
The Penwarra Players.This was the script Spencer had been working on the other week.
‘We’re planning our annual play and we’re down a few ensemble members. There’s usually a great bunch of cast and volunteers, lots of laughs, and it all culminates with a three-day run of performances in February. You and your girls would be more than welcome to audition. A fun new family hobby, perhaps?’
‘Mmmm …’ Clem scanned the flyer, considering the unexpected invitation.
Harriet’s camp letter, and her concerns about never having fun, had haunted Clem the last few weeks. And while she had promised the teacher she’d consider going along as an official parent helper in November, she hadn’t confirmed either way, or made any headway on the ‘fun’ part for herself, either.
Since becoming a mum and a small business owner, fun was something she squeezed in when she could. Days like today felt close to fun, with the Wednesday coffee crew thankfully back to their weekly cafe catch-ups, laughing and ordering up big. This week Brenna had given her an inside tip about Buster’s Happy Hen Farm expanding, and Sam and Laura had been delighted to tell her about their sons being chosen for district swim championships.
Their cheerful camaraderie gave the cafe such a lovely warmth.I really need to get back in touch with Hazel and Mia,Clem reminded herself, trying to recall the last movie night she’d had with her mum’s group mates, catching up with popcorn, wine and chocolate while the kids watched a movie.
She racked her brain. It must have been this year, because Mia and Hazel had both been pregnant and she’d been the only one drinking wine—which was probably why she’d fallen asleep mid-way throughFrozen.
Such a party animal …
‘Spencer works behind the scenes, building the sets and helping Louisa with the script,’ Ian added when she returned to clear their dishes. ‘They’ll start auditions in spring. It’s a nice bunch of people, nothing like those pretentious twits from the TV show, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Any other day Clem might have dismissed the idea with a polite ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ but on this brisk July afternoon, with spring on the horizon and Emily’s name conspicuouslyabsent from the discussion, Clem tucked the flyer into her apron pocket.
‘I’m not sure I’ll have time, but Harriet would probably love to,’ she admitted. ‘We’ll think about it.’
The school grounds were nearly empty when Spencer unlocked his car at the end of a long Friday afternoon, and he was caught by surprise when he heard his name being called across the bitumen.
‘Mr Hawkins! Is there any chance you could give me a lift home? Mum’s stuck in Mount Gambier with a flatty and Dad’s in Sydney for work.’
Archie Winklin, one of his favourite students, hurried across, backpack over his shoulder. There were rules about giving lifts to students, and Spencer wouldn’t put his hand up to do so on a regular basis, but he’d be driving right past the magnificent front gate of Winklin Wines.
‘Go on then,’ he said, moving his tennis racquet and bundle of marking from the passenger seat into the back seat. ‘Just this once.’
‘Knew I could rely on you, Mr H,’ Archie said. ‘You playing tennis tonight? I’d be there myself if I didn’t have piano rehearsals. Lucky the weather’s cleared, that fog was thick as custard. And how about that brawl in the playground today?’
The lad’s cheerful chatter was like a shot of caffeine on the drive out of town, and a welcome distraction from the hard conversation he and Emily needed to have when he got back to South Giddi Giddi.
It had been a week since dinner with her sister, a week since he’d laid his cards on the table, and his hope that they could make things work had cleared with the fog.
Spencer was so deep in thought he almost drove straight past the grand entrance to Winklin Wines.
‘This is me, Mr H. Thanks heaps for the lift,’ Archie said, pulling his backpack onto his lap. He turned to face Spencer, sympathy on his boyish features. ‘And hey, whatever’s bugging you, I hope you have a good weekend anyway.’
