Morgan's Law (20 page)

‘Hello, I'm Jocelyn, Sarah's mother. And this is Giles. Nothing like a surprise visit to throw everyone off centre, is there? Would you like to sit down?'

No. Say no
, Sarah pleaded silently.

‘Sure, that'd be great. Thanks.'

Sarah shot a swift glance across at Giles to try to gauge his reaction, and was mortified when she saw him staring suspiciously at Adam, clearly trying to decide if this newcomer was some kind of threat.

Adam leaned across the table and held his hand out to Giles before taking a seat. ‘Giles, was it? G'day mate.'

Giles slowly extended his own hand and Sarah found herself noticing the stark contrast between the two men. Giles's hand looked pale against Adam's work-hardened brown one
. Stop it!
she told herself firmly. You couldn't possibly compare the two men, and it wasn't fair to do so.

They were from two completely different worlds.

‘So, Adam. How do you know Sarah?' Giles asked, sitting back in his chair, his gaze levelled on the other man.

‘Gave her a hand to get out of the mud.'

‘What were you doing in the mud?' Giles turned to Sarah.

‘My car was in the mud. Adam got it out for me,' she clarified calmly.

‘How fortunate Adam was on the scene.'

‘Well, I wouldn't have been in the mud in the first place if his cattle hadn't been on the road.'

‘I thought we'd cleared that up,' put in Adam cheerfully. ‘Well, then there was the time I picked you up on the side of the road . . . I'm pretty sure that wasn't my fault.'

‘You were hitchhiking?' asked Jocelyn.

‘No. That was when my car broke down.'

‘Well, it sounds like we are all indebted to you, Adam.

It's a good thing you've been here to look out for
our
Sarah.'

Sarah's gaze narrowed slightly at the thinly veiled censure she thought she detected in Giles's tone and wished she could point out that he had no right whatsoever to be judgemental after his recent escapade.

‘So, what line of work you in, Giles?' Adam asked.

‘Interior design.'

‘Yeah? Much money in that then?'

Giles stared at Adam blankly. The people Giles knew in London just didn't ask these types of crass questions.

‘Giles has quite a few big-name clients,' Sarah told Adam, feeling the need to jump in before the conversation took a nosedive.

‘And what do you do, Adam?' Jocelyn asked calmly.

‘I'm a farmer.'

‘Well, that must be a very rewarding line of work.'

‘We all need to eat, I suppose. So, how long are you in town for?'

‘Not long,' all three voices chorused in unison and Adam lifted an eyebrow in surprise as Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘We came out to bring Sarah home, actually,' Giles said.

Sarah felt Adam's glance shift to her face and intently applied herself to drawing in the condensation on her wineglass in order to avoid his gaze. ‘However, I'm going to be busy helping out Tash and the committee for a little while and won't be able to go just yet,' she finished smoothly.

‘Well, I know Tash will be relieved you're staying. It's a big job,' Adam put in.

The conversation seemed to die off after that and Adam quickly finished his beer, then caught and held Sarah's gaze for the briefest of moments before announcing he'd better push off.

‘Well, it was certainly nice to meet you, Adam,' Jocelyn said.

‘Likewise. Have a safe trip home.'

There seemed to be some kind of silent exchange between Giles and Adam as they shook hands a second time—something she had no hope of comprehending since she obviously lacked the crucial Y chromosome.

‘Interesting friends you seem to have made out here, Sarah,' her mother commented curiously as she watched Adam farewell a few people he knew on his way out of the pub.

If only they knew just how
interesting
some of the people out here were, Sarah thought, hoping Don wouldn't make an appearance tonight. She really wasn't sure her mother and Giles were quite up to that.

As they moved up to the verandah for dinner Jocelyn was her usual gracious self. She was a born hostess and Sarah had always admired the way she could draw out even the most reluctant of guests and ensure everyone enjoyed themselves whether there were four guests or twenty-four.

Even having Giles there didn't put a dampener on the evening as she'd feared. Twice more he tried to broach the subject of getting away for a while and trying to rebuild their relationship, but Sarah was adamant. She wasn't going back with either him or her mother and there was nothing left for them to rebuild. She didn't know where her life was heading but she did know she could never go back to the way it had been. For all his faults, Giles deserved a chance to find someone who loved him whole-heartedly.

After Tash turned in and Giles went off to his room, Sarah and her mother remained on the verandah, enjoying the stillness of the evening outside.

There hadn't been many occasions when she'd had quiet time alone with her mother. When they saw each other they shopped, went out for meals, visited friends and went to the theatre or concerts; they very rarely took time to catch up and chat.

‘Adam seems nice, if you like the rugged type.'

Sarah braced herself for a confrontation, but strangely it didn't come. She risked a glance across at her mother and found Jocelyn studying her with a contemplative expression. ‘There are a lot of nice people out here, Mum.'

‘There are nice people back in Sydney too. I just don't want you to let all this,' Jocelyn flicked her hand towards the town below, ‘confuse you about where you belong.'

Where I belong?
Where
did
she belong? Before this trip, she'd never have given
belonging
a second thought. It wasn't a matter of belonging anywhere, you simply fitted in . . . But since being out here and learning more about her gran's life, belonging had suddenly begun to matter. Did she belong in London? She'd always loved being there, but when she thought about what it meant to belong to someone or something, a lot of things in her life just didn't make sense.

‘Will you come back out when I scatter Gran's ashes?' Sarah asked.

Jocelyn shook her head. ‘I've already said my goodbyes at the funeral. I just don't understand why you feel a need to drag things out with all this wishing tree nonsense.'

‘You know, I just don't get you sometimes, Mum. Even now, after she's gone, why can't you let go of this thing that was always between you?'

For a long time Jocelyn said nothing, then a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ‘Your grandmother was always so disapproving. I just couldn't seem to do anything right in her eyes. I guess we were just opposites. We clashed. But you two were like peas in a pod,' she said, sounding wistful.

‘You know, there were times when I would watch you two together and I'd almost feel jealous. I can't remember a time when she used to hold me like she held you when you were little. She'd sing to you and tell you stories—I don't remember her doing any of that with me.'

Sarah blinked back the sting of tears at her mother's quiet voice.

Jocelyn waved her hand quickly. ‘It's probably selective memory loss, because I do recall a few times when she tried to reach out and I turned my back on her. It wasn't until I became a mother with you that I realised how much that must have hurt her.' She pushed a strand of hair off her daughter's forehead and Sarah blinked back a rush of emotion.

Straightening her shoulders, Jocelyn dropped her hand and looked back out on the sleeping street below. ‘I know I haven't been the ideal mother, but I have no regrets in my life, Sarah, not one. But if there's one little pearl of wisdom I can pass on to you, it would be this—don't live with regrets, because life doesn't let you go back and fix the mistakes you've already made. Do what you think you have to, but then move on, Sarah. You can't right someone else's wrongs—no matter how badly you want to.'

Long into the night, Sarah thought over her mother's words. Maybe she
was
crazy to be searching for a tree and digging up her gran's past, but there was nothing crazy about wanting to help Tash and the others make this co-op bid work. A little
strange
, perhaps, but it felt good to be doing something so worthwhile. When was the last time anything she'd done at Brandl & McBride had felt worthwhile? Sure, it felt good to win a new customer and, yes, it gave her a surge of pride to mastermind a successful campaign, but this was something more. This was making a
difference
to a whole community.

Sarah hugged Jocelyn and waited until her mother had settled herself in the passenger seat of the hire car before closing the door.

‘Last chance to come with us, darling. It's not too late to change your mind,' her mother said as the window slid down slowly.

‘No thanks, Mum. I need to finish up here first. Have a safe trip home.'

Giles seemed to have finally accepted there was no changing her mind and, although not happy about it, he seemed resigned to the fact their relationship was over. He gave Sarah a stiff hug and wished her well, then climbed into the vehicle and drove off.

Sarah waved until she lost sight of the car at the end of the street. For a fraction of a second a small wave of uncertainty passed through her, before she shrugged it off and straightened her shoulders. There was work to do and it wasn't going to get done if she stood out here all day.

After a few solid hours' work, Sarah dashed across the road later that afternoon with a hankering for chocolate. She had no idea where this craving had come from, but all day it had been nagging at her, until she couldn't stand it any longer.

As she walked out of the grocery store, tearing the wrapper off the chocolate bar and taking a shamelessly big bite, she ran smack bang into Adam Buchanan.

‘Sorry.' Sarah's muffled apology was barely audible around a mouthful of chocolate.

‘Do you need the Heimlich manoeuvre?' he asked, watching with a dry expression as she covered her mouth with her hand and sheepishly tried to swallow the gooey mess.

‘I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't see you.'

‘I can see why—that chocolate bar was in the process of devouring you.'

‘Don't you have anything better to do than stand around here all day and give me a hard time?'

‘I've got plenty to do, but this is more entertaining.'

Sarah brushed at her shirt self-consciously. How on earth had she managed to get chocolate flakes all over her?

‘So your visitors have left town then?'

She knew news travelled fast in small towns but she hadn't been expecting it to happen quite this fast. ‘Yep. It was a quick trip.'

‘Interesting guy that Miles fella.'

‘It's
Giles
.'

‘He's
really
an interior designer?' Adam asked with a chuckle.

‘He's actually very good at it. He's sought after in London.'

‘Are you
sure
he's not gay?'

‘He is
not
. . .' Sarah stopped and lowered her voice, ‘gay.'

‘If you say so,' he said doubtfully.

‘Oh, for
goodness
sake, Adam.'

‘Hey, I'm just asking. For a minute there I thought I was shaking a sheila's hand—the bloke sure knows how to moisturise.'

‘I hate to tell you this, Adam, but there are lots of men who don't work with their hands—it doesn't make them gay.'

‘All right. No need to get all excited. I just can't picture the two of you as a couple, that's all.'

Sarah fought for a calm she was far from feeling. ‘Well, we're not any more. So there's no need to worry about it, is there?'

‘I'm not worried,' he told her with a cocky grin that shouldn't have made her stomach flip-flop the way it did. ‘Remember, just say the word, Sarah.'

‘I better hurry back. I told Tash I'd go over a few things with her this afternoon,' Sarah stammered and then cursed herself for running like a frightened rabbit. She couldn't cope with Adam and his teasing blue eyes right now. She waved a hasty goodbye and forced herself to walk calmly across the road. She'd track down Tash and demand something new to work on—anything to keep her mind off that knowing grin.