The first weekend in January, two years later
The sun shone and the sunscreened and hat-wearing crowd picnicked under the trees at the third annual Myrtle Tall Trees Fun Run, Stroll and Family Day. Claire surveyed the passing parade from the CWA tent. The market—farm-fresh food and crafts—was in full swing and the food trucks were doing a roaring trade with long lines at the ice-cream van and the Nguyens’ coffee cart. The crack of a whip shot through the air, making her smile. This year, Oakvale Park was out in force. Bill was teaching city-slickers to crack whips, Louise was giving wool-spinning demonstrations, Tamara and Lachlan were flat out running a berries and pancake stall while she and Matt were selling honey.
‘What do you reckon, Harper?’ she said to the red-headed toddler in her arms. ‘It’s bigger and better every year.’
Harper grabbed for Claire’s sunglasses. She laughed and hugged her.
Bec walked into the tent holding an enormous string bag filled with two hundred plastic ducks. Harper squealed in delight, pumping her chubby arms out towards her mother.
‘How’s she been?’
‘Great. You’re my secret weapon, aren’t you, Harps? She says, “waffull”, and everyone goos and gahs and buys five dollars’ worth of raffle tickets. I might have to keep her.’
* * *
Bec smiled at one of her dearest friends, choosing not to remember the years they’d wasted detesting each other. ‘Thanks for having the girls last week. They love it out at Oakvale Park.’
‘It’s our pleasure. Did Ivy tell you she took her first jump the other day? She’s got your seat.’
‘We’ve brought coffee and scones.’ Erica strode into the tent, her fun-run winner’s medal for best time in her age group swinging proudly around her neck. Sophie and Layla followed, carrying the food.
‘Excuse me,’ a woman asked. ‘When I was here two years ago, I bought the best tomato sauce and chutney I’ve ever tasted. Do you have it again this year?’
‘No,’ the five of them said in unison.
The woman startled.
‘Sorry,’ Claire said hastily. ‘There was, um … a crop disaster. But the Oakvale Park tent in the next row’s got bottles. They use the same recipe.’
As the woman walked away, Bec said drily, ‘A crop disaster? I suppose it was in a way.’
She could hardly remember the first Put Myrtle on the Map day. She’d barely been functioning, but Claire had sat with her in the CWA tent calling her the pregnant fat controller and making her feel involved even when Bec could barely string a sentence together.
Bec hadn’t seen Adam since the court case. He’d been found guilty of all charges. If she had her way, she’d never see him again. Thankfully, she had another ten years before she had to worry about it—the judge had given Adam the longest possible sentence for each of his crimes. The counsellor had recommended the older girls decide what sort of contact they wanted with their father. As hard as it was to honour this, Bec tried. Ivy refused to read Adam’s letters but Gracie occasionally sent a reply, usually when she’d won a sporting event. Harper didn’t know Adam at all and Bec was happy with that. She hoped she never would.
Julie and Phil walked past the tent with Penny and her kids and gave her a wave. Bec’s heart filled with gratitude and love. During the black days in the months following Adam’s arrest, when she and the girls struggled to make sense of what had happened, the Langs had welcomed them into their home and their family. They’d lived with them for a year and a half and Bec didn’t know what she would have done without their care and support. Well, she did know—she’d have fallen apart and risked landing up in hospital and losing the girls.
With Charger as her constant companion, Ivy had healed. Gracie, who was remarkably resilient, had channelled all her confusion into sport. Harper’s arrival had given the three of them a new focus and despite everything, she’d been a happy baby with few difficult days. There’d been times when Bec was concerned Penny might be unhappy about them living with her parents but all Penny had said was, ‘You loved Hugo. If he’d lived, you’d be my sister-in-law, so how is this different?’
Bec had cried.
With the help of a raft of health professionals, the Langs’ love and the friendship of the original Stitch Bitches, Bec had slowly put herself back together. There were still tough days, and for a while she’d seriously considered moving to Melbourne. Part of her wanted to leave town and all the memories of Adam, and live the life she and Hugo had planned. But she’d realised in time that without her support system, she’d not only flounder but likely fall over. The girls didn’t deserve that and neither did she. Ironically, it was Adam’s ex-business—the legal one—that had played a big role in her recovery.
Bec ran the company, now named Myrtle Constructions, with Scotty. In the eleven months before his trial, he’d taught her every facet of the administration side of the business. Her organisational skills were a perfect match to the tasks required. With the assistance of a trusted builder mate of Scotty’s, the business had weathered the six months Scotty spent in a minimum-security prison.
‘Spill the beans, Bec.’ Erica passed her a cup of coffee. ‘Nathan and I saw you and the girls having pizza with Scotty on Tuesday night. Are you two dating?’
Bec didn’t know what they were doing or even what she wanted. She’d loved Hugo—she still did—but he’d been dead four years. She trusted Scotty as much as she’d trusted Hugo but she hated that he’d been under Adam’s control. Hated that she’d been there too. But was that even an issue anymore?
‘We’re business partners and friends, and the girls love him. That’s enough for now.’
‘He loves you,’ Layla said. ‘Everyone sees it on his face.’
‘When does Scotty finish his parole?’ Sophie asked.
‘It was last week.’
‘He should have a party and celebrate that it’s all finally over.’
‘He just wants it to slide quietly away so he can get on with his law-abiding life.’
‘I can understand that,’ Claire said. ‘He’s doing a great job with the youth group. There’s nothing like a real-life story of someone making the wrong decision and paying the price to shock wayward teens. But I’m worried he’s still doing penance. He needs to be kinder to himself.’
‘I don’t think he’s totally forgiven himself for what happened to Josh either,’ Erica said. ‘He told Nathan as much.’
‘Well, we’ve forgiven him,’ Sophie wiped cream off her mouth. ‘For a while there, I didn’t think I could, but then I realised he was as much a victim as we were. I hope he knows that.’
‘I’m sure he does. Don’t he and Josh play basketball together?’ Claire asked.
‘It’s more like one on one. Josh reckons Scotty needs to write “must play basketball” into all the building contracts for the newcomers so we get some adult players in town.’
Claire laughed. ‘Good luck with that. Mind you, as the new recreational officer, he can indoctrinate the kids.’
‘That’s his plan. Look out, future Myrtle.’
Two years earlier, Sophie hadn’t been able to envisage a future for her and Josh in a town that had caused her husband so much pain and suffering. During that terrifying time, guilt had consumed her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her almost petulant desire to be a stay-at-home mum had not only played a role in him viewing himself as the stoic provider, but had exacerbated his sense of failure when the fire had forced them to live in a shed and then caused him to lose his job. She was haunted by Josh’s misguided belief that he was protecting her by not telling her exactly what had happened to him on the day of the fires. But her thundering hatred was reserved for Adam Petrovic. His blackmail, not to mention the potency of his marijuana, had tipped Josh over the edge. For three awful weeks, while Josh floundered in a psychiatric hospital, Sophie had feared her stubborn, prickly and determined husband would never come back to them.
Her boss had been amazing, giving her flexible working hours and remote access so she could work and visit Josh. As promised, Scotty had finished the house but she immediately put it on the market, knowing they could never live there. In an unprecedented piece of luck, it sold quickly and Sophie had moved her family out of the shed and into a short-term rental in town. Janet and Craig had moved in with them, looking after Josh and the kids while Sophie worked and looking after her at the end of the day. She’d been surprised at how her job became a refuge and her previous resentment at working full time disappeared.
Aileen had visited once or twice, asking perfunctory questions about Josh and the kids before quickly turning to stories of Kylie’s baby. Kylie was far too busy to visit and when Sophie received texts that said things like Between the baby and Lex, I barely have time to get my nails done, Sophie was thankful for the two hundred kilometres that separated them. One of the advantages of having some counselling was recognising that her mother and sister weren’t capable of supporting her in ways she needed, and that was okay, because she had other people in her life who did the job so much better.
As Josh recovered, they’d discussed where they should live. The thought of moving back to Melbourne and starting over after a long absence daunted her. As did the idea of leaving her friends, all of whom had been there for her in different ways during the ordeal that was Josh’s PTSD. It became obvious that reducing Josh’s stress was vital to keeping him well and this included the likelihood of him only ever working part time rather than full time. They considered moving to Colac so she didn’t have to change jobs but neither of them could muster much enthusiasm.
When the house next to Erica and Nathan’s came up for sale, it was Janet and Craig who suggested they look at it.
‘Living in Myrtle’s too hard for Josh,’ Sophie had said, immediately scotching the suggestion.
‘Living on the block was too hard,’ Josh said. ‘Let’s take a look and see how it feels.’
Josh’s illness had forced Sophie to examine her own behaviour—her tendency to put her own needs and the kids first and Josh second. They were both working on unlearning unhealthy behaviours. After building two houses and making decisions about everything from doors to floor coverings, Sophie had expected a ready-built house to lack soul, but the property had wrapped around her. But instead of squealing and saying, ‘Yes! This!’ she’d stayed silent and carefully observed Josh. If their marriage was to survive, his mental health must come first. If he couldn’t picture himself living there, there was no point in her expressing an opinion.
She’d watched him walk around the large backyard, study the pool and stare out to the horizon. The garden lacked the dazzling view of the block.
He took her hand. ‘The kids will love the pool.’
‘Sure, but all they want and all I want is a happy you. Can you see yourself living here?’
‘Yeah. I can.’ He gazed at her, a faint glimmer of old Josh in his eyes. ‘And if we’re living in town and close to the house next door, better the neighbours we know, eh?’
When they told Janet and Craig they were staying in Myrtle, her in-laws had smiled and promptly bought a house two streets away. Sophie had cried with happiness and relief. Josh did so much better with his family close by. They all did.
When she looked back on the early years of their marriage, she recognised they’d often fought each other, determined to win their own way. It was a miracle their relationship had survived at all. Her life now was very different from that naïve vision of being a stay-at-home mum with three kids and a husband who brought home the bacon.
She’d reluctantly given up her dream of a third baby in exchange for a healthy husband. Josh didn’t need the stress of another child and, if she was honest—and that had been hard—as she was the main breadwinner, neither did she. Knowing that didn’t stop the pangs of regret or the kernel of sadness for the baby that would never be, but when she saw Josh relaxed and happy and being a hands-on dad to Liam and Trixie, she told herself it was enough. Besides, in the last two years, both Bec and Layla had given birth and her empty arms got their fill of cuddles. Plus, there was something liberating about handing babies back when they got fractious.
‘Mummy!’ Trixie ran into the tent followed by Liam and Josh. ‘Is it time for the ducks?’
‘Soon, Trix,’ Claire said. ‘I just need to find Matt so he can turn on the siren and clear the creek of kids.’
‘We’ll do it,’ Liam and Trixie chorused, tearing back outside.
‘They just want to press the siren button.’ Josh gave Sophie a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Coming to the bridge?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it.’
It was now a Doherty family tradition to stand on the bridge and watch the plastic ducks rush past before they held hands and ran to the finish line. If the last few years had taught Sophie anything, it was that sharing simple moments of joy like this mattered. She picked up the ducks. ‘See you all down there.’
‘I’ve got to shoot home to get ready for tonight,’ Claire said. ‘If my duck wins, give the money to Matt. Oh, and don’t be late.’
‘This from you,’ Bec said good-naturedly.
‘Hey, emergencies excluded, I’m reformed. I believe you were the one who was late to our last meeting.’
‘Client crisis.’ Bec rolled her eyes. ‘Well, the client thought it was a crisis, because we can’t source the tiles she wants. Honestly, sometimes I want to tell people our stories and give them a perspective check.’
‘Osman and I will be there with a plate with food on it.’ Layla laughed. ‘Not like when Erica tells me to bring a plate so I bring an empty one. Do you need help getting ready, Claire?’
‘Thanks, but I’m all good. It’s just a casual barbecue and Bec and Louise helped me set up yesterday.’ Claire turned her attention to the crowd outside the tent. ‘If the Tall Trees Fun Run and Family Day keeps growing like this, in a few years we’ll rival Lorne’s Pier to Pub.’
‘Don’t wish those numbers on us,’ Bec said.
‘We don’t want to lose our tranquil, small-town feel,’ Erica added.
‘We won’t. But don’t you all get a buzz knowing that despite everything that happened two years ago, we not only pulled this together, we’ve grown it? We’ve created something special that not only brings money into Myrtle but that people look forward to all year. And I know we have help from the Lion’s Club and the Men’s Shed and all the new Nightlighters, but we started it. I’m so proud of us, sometimes I want to cry.’
Sophie laughed. ‘Don’t go all soppy on us.’
‘We’ve definitely put Myrtle on the map,’ Layla said.
Erica smiled. ‘And tonight, we’re celebrating.’
‘Oh!’ Bec clapped her hands. ‘Did Nathan get a case of the real stuff again for Christmas?’
‘Hell, yes! I’ve got it on ice so it’s ready to go.’
Matt gave a low whistle as Claire walked out of the bathroom. ‘Is that a new dress?’
She twirled in front of him, pleased to see he was wearing the clothes she’d laid out for him without protest. ‘It is. Do you like it?’
‘I love it.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘But aren’t we a bit dressed up for that lot out there?’
She linked her hands behind his neck. ‘That lot are our family and closest friends.’
‘That’s true.’ He glanced out the window. ‘Jeez! Don’t get upset, but Mum and Dad are greeting people like this is their place.’
It had been a long time since Matt’s parents had upset Claire. She and Louise had forged their own path and, slowly, forced respect had given way to genuine warmth. It wasn’t anything like the closeness Claire had shared with her mother or what she shared with Julie, but it was far from frosty. Tamara had been a harder nut to crack and things had been cool between brother and sister for a long time. Whether Louise and Bill had finally spoken to Tamara or she’d sensed a losing battle, one day her de facto sister-in-law asked if Claire would mind if she joined the CWA Nightlights. Since then, things had settled into a pattern of acceptance. Claire sometimes wondered if Taylor Norris’s marriage to an accountant in Geelong had helped Tamara let go of her animosity.
‘Relax, Matt. I asked your parents to help. And I feel a bit mean about Tamara and Lachlan, because they’ve been flat out all day making pancakes, but they’re on welcome drinks.’
Confusion crossed his face. ‘I don’t get it. I thought this was just a casual barbecue.’
‘It is and it isn’t. I thought tonight might be the perfect occasion for you to announce we’re pregnant.’
‘Really?’ He grinned at her, his eyes full of love and hope. ‘That would be fantastic.’
‘I know the secret’s almost killed you.’
He bumped his belly gently against hers. ‘Longest three months of my life.’
In the end, the decision to have a baby had been a lot easier to make than her decision not to have one. Claire still worried she couldn’t protect a child from all the awful things life might throw at it, but with Matt’s unwavering love and support and his family’s caring acceptance of her, the prospect of being a mother was a lot less terrifying. And she had dear friends. They were the embodiment of the saying ‘it takes a community to raise a child’.
Over the previous two years, they’d all helped with the children. Initially, Claire, Layla and Erica had circled Sophie and Bec but as things improved, they’d given back, assisting Layla in the final weeks of her pregnancy when she was confined to bed rest. Claire had spent so much time with Harper in the last eighteen months, she and Matt considered her half theirs. Now they were having their own.
She kissed him, giving thanks for having this man who’d proved stalwart and patient. ‘I’m lucky to have you.’
‘Yeah, you are.’ He laughed and swung her round, staggering slightly. ‘You’re heavier.’
‘Carrying twins does that to a girl.’
He grinned widely, pride riding off him. ‘I knocked you up real good.’
‘You did, and that’s why I’ve decided to make an honest man of you.’
‘What?’
‘Honey, we’re getting married. That is, if you’re still up for it, four and a half years after you proposed.’
‘But … what about the paperwork?’
Claire laughed. Usually she was the practical one and he was the romantic. ‘We’ll sort out the legal stuff next week. Come on.’
She grabbed his hand and they walked outside. People stood chatting and drinking and kids ran around barefoot on the lawn. Erica waved from the end of the veranda, flanked by Layla, Bec and Sophie, all of whom wore pretty dresses and wide smiles. They looked suspiciously like bridesmaids. So much for Erica and Bec keeping things a secret.
‘Hurry up, Matt,’ Erica called out. ‘Get down here so we can start. I don’t want the champagne getting hot.’
Matt’s parents, who were in on the plan, walked their son to the wedding party. Then Julie and Phil linked arms with Claire and walked her to Matt. When Erica asked, ‘Who gives this woman to this man?’ Julie and Phil said, ‘We do, on behalf of Heather and Ron.’
Matt squeezed her hand and she squeezed it back, but not out of sadness. Today Claire was happy and everything finally felt right.
When Erica announced them husband and wife, a cheer went up and champagne corks flew.
‘I love you, Postie.’ Matt wrapped his arms around her and gave her a long and lingering kiss to a soundtrack of wolf whistles.
‘I love you too.’
‘This is the first Australian wedding I’ve been to,’ Layla said later, watching some impromptu dancing on the lawn.
Sophie sipped champagne. ‘They’re not usually this casual.’
‘The first time Claire tried to marry Matt, she’d planned a very traditional white wedding,’ Julie added, ‘but this suits them perfectly.’
‘And in most Australian weddings, the bride’s not preggers,’ Erica said.
Bec laughed. ‘But this is Claire, remember.’
‘What’s me?’ Claire slid into a spare seat after relinquishing her husband to a game of bocce.
‘Breaking all the rules and having a shotgun wedding.’ Bec raised her glass. ‘And oh my God! Twins!’
‘That’s what happens when you start at thirty-three.’
‘Double pregnancy hormones. No wonder you were all soppy before the duck race, saying how proud of us you are,’ Sophie teased.
‘I was just softening you up cos I’m going to need help. I’m already worried about not having enough arms.’
‘I will cook for you,’ Layla said.
‘I’ll draw up a roster,’ Erica offered. ‘Between Matt, the Cartwrights and us, you’ll be fine. At least Matt doesn’t have to commute.’
Julie smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to knitting beanies and booties for winter babies.’
‘I’m so excited for you,’ Bec said. ‘It’s going to be the scariest and most amazing ride of your life.’
‘Gee, thanks. That’s hardly reassuring.’
Bec laughed and patted Claire’s arm. ‘We’re all here to pick you up and cheer you on whenever you need it just like you’ve always done for us.’
And right then, Claire knew no matter what happened, she was in good hands.