Jilted Read online

  He saw the pain in her eyes and realised how hard it was for her to have this conversation. Hell, he knew all there was to know about unrequited affection – he could write the For Dummies book on it.

  ‘You’re right. And I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Avoiding you was childish and I really have no excuse.’

  She shrugged. ‘I caught you on a bad night. I know that. You weren’t yourself and I took advantage of that. Will you forgive me?’

  He suddenly saw a whole new side to Lauren. ‘Forgive you for what?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her grin lit up her whole face. Faint freckles danced on her full cheeks. ‘I promise not to stalk you anymore.’

  ‘In that case,’ he gestured to the platter in her hand, ‘let me refill that and you go get yourself a drink. Don’t want the word getting around that we’re tyrants here at Black Stump.’

  She smiled and let him take the tray. As she sidled off to the beverage table he hoped some young farmer from the surrounding shires would notice her and strike up a conversation. She’d no doubt make a devoted partner for someone one day.

  After finding Hannah and going through the sales of the day, Flynn cracked open a celebratory can of Coke and started doing the rounds. Days like these were good for catching up on the region’s gossip – not stuff his mum would be interested in, like who was marrying who and having whose babies, but important things, like which farms were changing hands.

  The night was a long but good one. The next time Flynn clapped eyes on Lauren she had her arms up to their elbows in the sink, scrubbing away.

  ‘Is she still here?’ he whispered to his mum as she approached.

  ‘Yep.’ Karina’s smile told him how happy she was with Lauren. ‘She’s surprised me that girl. A real hard worker, don’t know how we’d have gotten through the day without her.’

  Flynn frowned and watched Lauren from a distance. Could it be he’d misjudged her?

  Chapter Ten

  The best thing about staying sober at a ram sale, Flynn reflected as he cleaned up his breakfast dishes, was not waking up with a hangover the next morning. This way he’d have a clear head for writing up his notes and be on top form for football this afternoon.

  He whistled as he washed, contemplating Black Stump’s best ram sale in recorded history. He couldn’t deny that growing the farm gave him a certain buzz. His dad had been a great farmer – one of the best around, locals liked to say – and he wanted to make him proud. He wanted to make his mark as a farmer, and he hoped that one day this is what people would think of when they heard the name Flynn Quartermaine – not the last baby born at Hope Junction Hospital, or his Grand Final streak, or that other thing he’d rather forget. His farming ideas were a bit modern for some, but they weren’t crazy or harebrained. They were real good money earners, and yesterday’s outcome proved this.

  Maybe that was enough, Flynn thought. Maybe living and working on the land was all he needed to feel good about himself and enjoy life.

  He stacked the crockery to dry on the side of the sink, grabbed his wallet and keys and left the cottage. He stopped his ute to check in on the women in his life, seeing if they needed anything from town. Surprisingly, Lucy was already awake – actually up and dressed. When he entered the homestead, he found her lounging in front of the telly, her feet on the coffee table, black nail polish drying on her toes. One arm was outstretched as she flicked channels distractedly.

  Flynn waved at her – receiving no response – then addressed his mum, who was sorting washing on the big kitchen table.

  ‘I can’t understand where they all go.’ She threw a single bright pink sock in his general direction.

  He smiled. ‘I’m popping into town. Can I get you anything?’

  Karina shook her head as she held up a tablecloth and started folding. He was surprised she didn’t iron it; she was usually meticulous with that sort of stuff. Dad always called her his domestic goddess. ‘Nope, but please take her off my hands.’ She angled her head towards the loungeroom. ‘I’m going to throttle her in a minute.’

  ‘What’s up her bum?’ Flynn smiled, knowing his mum wouldn’t take kindly to his phrasing.

  ‘Who knows? She’s been a grouch ever since she came back from theatre practice on Thursday. If you can get her to tell you why, you’re more woman than me.’

  ‘That I sincerely doubt.’

  ‘Would you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?’ Lucy grumbled loudly and turned the television off with a theatrical swish. Flynn didn’t love the idea of Lucy spending time acting – since Ellie had made a life without him on the screen, he’d soured towards the profession – but he had to admit the pastime fit her to a tee.

  ‘So, you coming or not?’ he asked.

  ‘If you insist.’ Lucy trudged to the door and slipped her feet into her fancy thongs. She stormed out to the ute, arms crossed over her chest and her face contorted in the perfect scowl.

  ‘Didn’t Mum ever read you that story about the boy who made faces? You know, the one where the wind changed?’ Flynn turned the key in the ignition; Lucy didn’t reply. Fair enough. As he swung the car onto the long gravel drive, he turned AC/DC up loud. He knew Lucy couldn’t stand this band. And sure enough, before they’d even reached their property boundary, she’d huffed, puffed, uncrossed her arms, crossed them again, and then leaned over to turn the music off. He watched all this out of the corner of his eye and did his damn best not to smirk. She glared at him.

  ‘Ellie’s joined the play,’ she finally announced.

  Flynn’s heart spasmed at her words, but outwardly he tried to not let a flicker of emotion show, maintaining his grip on the wheel as they flew over a pothole. Why the hell should it matter to him what Ellie did?

  ‘Right,’ he managed. Yeah, that sounded really nonchalant. Not. Now it was he who felt like the surly teenager. All this talk of Ellie – the fact that she seemed to come up in every conversation – was making him regress. It had to stop. He hoped his voice sounded level and interested as he said, ‘And what’s the problem? Is she vying for your role or something?’

  ‘Hell no! She’s too old to play my part.’ A hiss slipped between her lips before she continued. ‘That batty Mrs Ellery has signed her on as Cast Adviser or something stupid. But don’t worry, I gave her the evil eye. I can’t believe we’re supposed to take advice from her. Can you?’

  ‘Sure. From what I hear’, – he wasn’t going to admit to ever watching Lake Street – ‘she knows her stuff. Maybe you could learn something.’

  Lucy pressed her finger down hard on the button that opened the window. She almost gasped in the fresh air. ‘But Flynn, that’s not the point.’

  ‘What is the point?’ he asked, wishing they were already in town and this conversation were over. It didn’t matter that he’d moved on, every time he talked about Ellie his mouth went dry and he found breathing difficult.

  ‘She wronged you,’ spat Lucy, with venom and fury in her voice. If he didn’t know his sister, hadn’t been there every second of her life, he would have been horrified by this raw malice. Instead, he saw her anger for what it was: misguided loyalty.

  ‘That was years ago,’ he answered simply, although some days it still felt like yesterday. ‘Ellie and I have spoken about what happened. I’ve moved on, and so should this town. That includes you.’

  ‘You spoke to her? When?’

  This was not something he’d planned on discussing with Lucy. After the last week, he hoped he’d never have to speak about that conversation again. With anyone. Ever. But he knew the town was talking, and he didn’t want his little sis wasting precious time and energy on this when she should be studying. Besides, he wouldn’t wish her rage on his worst enemy. And strangely, he realised, that wasn’t Ellie.

  He took a deep breath. ‘A week ago. The day those reporters turned up. She followed me out to the dam and apologised.’

  Lucy’s sharp intake of breath told him that the concept surprised her. ‘She said s
orry? For leaving you at the altar?’

  He tried to make a joke. ‘Why does everyone keep bringing that up?’

  Lucy laughed. ‘Sorry. But seriously, she came to you?’

  ‘Yeah.’ His mind flashed briefly to that day by the dam. It wasn’t the first time he’d recalled that moment, with Ellie appearing like a heavenly vision, and he banished the image as fast as he could. ‘And she’s not Cruella de Vil. She feels bad about what she did. I think she even regrets it.’

  ‘Then why? How could she do it?’

  If Lucy only knew how many times he’d asked himself that question over the last ten years. But the same answer always amounted: she didn’t love him.

  He shrugged. ‘Not sure I’ll ever know. There was a lot going on in her life. She just couldn’t go through with it.’ It wasn’t his place to tell anyone else about Ellie’s mother. Lucy was back in the present anyway.

  ‘So, like, are you two getting back together?’ Her voice was tinged with excitement, in the way that only a teenage girl’s could be.

  Flynn didn’t hesitate in his reply. ‘No.’ He spoke a language he knew Lucy would understand. ‘Not in a million years.’

  ‘O-kay.’ Lucy digested the info.

  ‘But that doesn’t mean you should ostracise her. We all make mistakes, that doesn’t mean we have nothing to offer. If you’re serious about the play, you should soak up as much of her expertise as you can.’

  Lucy played with her hair, twisting it around her fingers. She always did this when contemplating something deep. ‘If you’re sure,’ she said eventually. ‘I mean, I’m loving the play and I think acting is something I could really dig. I want to apply to WAAPA for next year.’

  What? Flynn clenched his teeth to stop himself shouting. He didn’t know what he would’ve said, presumably something along the lines of, Get that idea out of your pretty little head right now. But Lucy had already accused him of sounding like her father.

  Flynn had always assumed Luce would go to uni in Perth, that she would study something like teaching or agricultural science, eventually making her way back to Hope Junction. He never entertained the idea that she might pursue a career that would, in all likelihood, move her across the country and out of his life. As well.

  ‘It’s really, really hard to get into, though.’ Lucy sounded more subdued than usual. ‘Any help I could get would be gold. But I don’t want to hurt your feelings by taking advice from Ellie.’

  Flynn smiled inwardly at Lucy’s heartfelt words. The fact she would put his feelings ahead of her dreams told him he would never lose her. He needed to put his fears aside and be as supportive as he could.

  ‘Lucy,’ he said seriously, ‘you can do anything you put your mind to. If you want to act, let Ellie help. Understand?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ she said, taking in the impact of his words. Then a puzzled look came over her. ‘But who’s Cruella de Vil?’

  The reception Ellie got on her first night of theatre practice warmed her heart. Mostly hello’s, how-are-ya’s and smiles all round, save for the few members who still offered only a cool expression in return for her greeting. But it was the drastic change in Lucy – from frosty to positively friendly – that both confused and pleased her. The Quartermaine girl flounced into the room and made a beeline for Ellie.

  ‘Thanks so much for offering to coach us.’ Her pink, lip-glossed smile was wide and affectionate, her voice genuinely enthusiastic. ‘I’m a huge fan of Lake Street. I watch it in my bedroom. You know, when I’m “studying”.’ She made the inverted commas with her fingers, her mammoth grin requesting that the information stay confidential. It made sense – neither of them needed to point out that watching Lake Street in the lounge room at Black Stump would be a gross faux pas.

  Ellie barely knew how to respond to Lucy’s sudden kinship. She wanted to grab the younger woman in a warm embrace and shriek with joy, but that might be pushing things.

  ‘Thanks,’ she managed to squeeze past the lump of surprise and emotion in her throat. ‘That means a lot.’ Lucy would never know how much, but for Ellie to feel that she hadn’t been completely banished, completely forgotten by those who’d once been friends – that was comforting.

  ‘I can’t wait to get started,’ finished Lucy. She flashed another bright smile and took the seat closest to Ellie. Thirteen other eager amateurs sat in a semicircle facing her, waiting for the rehearsal to start.

  Ellie felt glued to the patch of scratched wooden flooring under her feet. Had Flynn spoken to Lucy? She was a seventeen-year-old girl, but this change of attitude was too drastic to be explained away by adolescent hormones, surely. Ellie’s heart lifted at the possibility, but she shook her head. She’d made a concerted effort to shift her thoughts whenever they’d drifted to Flynn this last week. It wasn’t healthy to be fixated on someone who would never be fixated on you. That much she knew was true. She’d spent her childhood doing everything she could to please her mother, and nothing had made the woman love her. In the end, her desire to please had ruined her. She didn’t want to waste the rest of her life feeling the same way about Flynn.

  ‘Good evening, everyone.’ She addressed the group with a buoyancy she didn’t feel. ‘Thanks for inviting me to help you prepare for the big production. Before we dive into rehearsing, I want us to practise a few key techniques that will enhance our performances.’ She took some A4 print-outs from a clipboard on the seat behind her. ‘I want you to get into groups of two or three and rehearse one of these short skits. You’ve got ten minutes, and then we’ll come back and perform them. I want you guys to assess each other and brainstorm what you think can be improved. Then I’ll offer some tips and feedback. Simple, right?’

  Chapter Eleven

  Ellie this, Ellie that! If Flynn heard one more word about the fabulous Ellie, he would not be responsible for his actions. It seemed the town, or at least the theatrical society (and definitely his sister), was warming to Ellie Hughes. Rumour had it she was working wonders for the production, and he was happy about that, he really was. He didn’t want people holding a grudge on his behalf. But Lucy’s near hero worship of his ex-girlfriend was beginning to get to him.

  Ellie was so nice, she said. So cool. So smart. So funny. In Lucy’s eyes, Ellie seemed to have it all in the so department.

  He pulled the protective glasses down over his eyes and drove the circular saw into the wood. He was making a wishing well for Rats’s wedding, a task he hoped would also drown out Lucy’s chatter. She was sitting on a stool nearby, swinging her legs to and fro, oblivious to the fact he wasn’t interested in what she had to say. He’d already asked her if she had any homework to be getting on with. But she’d given him that look again – that he was treading too close to father territory – so he’d shut the hell up.

  They talked about the wedding and about the suit fitting Flynn would have in Perth that week. Lucy surreptitiously pried about the bucks’ night, and when that topic was exhausted, she moved on to moaning about one of her teachers. Flynn zoned out, wishing the school holidays would hurry up or that Mum would give Lucy some chores to do.

  ‘I told everyone you’d be ace for it,’ she finished as he cut off the saw. His nerves prickled. What exactly had he missed? ‘So what do you say?’

  He put the saw down, lifted the glasses and looked at his little sister. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Flynn,’ she whined, ‘have you been listening at all?’

  ‘Not really.’ He gestured to his work in progress. Only a pile of wood a few hours ago, it was taking shape quite well. ‘I’m kinda busy.’

  ‘I know, you’re so good at that.’ She smiled serenely. ‘That’s why I told them you are absolutely the best person for the job.’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’ Flynn tugged the safety glasses off his head and walked to the bar fridge. He grabbed a can of Coke and chucked a bottle of water to his sister. She was going through one of her health fads and wouldn’t drink anything that wasn’t see-through. ‘Start from the b
eginning. I’m listening now.’

  ‘The play’s coming along really well. Matilda’s got the costumes under control – she’s delegated them to a couple of old birds from the Women’s Club – and the high school band are gonna cover the music. But we’re really struggling with the set. We need someone who’s good with their hands.’ She paused and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Someone like you.’

  He ignored her attempt at buttering him up. ‘You want me to build the set? I do have a farm to keep me busy, don’t forget.’

  ‘I know that.’ Lucy spoke like he was an imbecile. ‘You wouldn’t have to do all the work. There are some boys from school who want to help but they need direction. Someone to oversee the project. You’d be perfect. Please?’

  I don’t think so. That was what he meant to say, what he should have said, but somehow he heard the word ‘Yes’ slip from his lips. Yes, he’d help build the set and yes, he’d come along that evening to chat with the boys he was to oversee.

  If Flynn were into psychoanalysis, which he most definitely was not, he’d read his actions as having something to do with Ellie. He hadn’t seen her since that day by the dam, and although he’d driven Lucy into town four times since then, he hadn’t caught even the smallest glimpse of his ex. Either she was already in the hall when he’d dropped Lucy off, or she was yet to arrive, or whatever, but he never saw her when he picked his sister up either. He guessed she was laying low, not wanting to run into him again. That was good of her, responsible. Problem was, there was a small, self-destructive part of him that wanted to see her. And this was his chance.

  Lucy thanked him with a massive hug and a kiss on each cheek. ‘You’re the best big bro ever.’

  ‘And don’t you forget it,’ he called, as she skipped off in the direction of the homestead.

  Later, Flynn let Lucy choose the music as they headed down the highway into town. She bopped along, practically dancing in her seat as Flynn drove, now seriously doubting his decision to come tonight. Lucy was rapt – her word – by his commitment to share his time and knowledge, but Flynn didn’t feel confident about working alongside Ellie. Barely able to focus on anything that arvo, he’d rushed through everything on his to-do list. He’d had livestock to check and repairs to do on one of the tractors, and only realised he’d been cutting corners when he arrived home with more than enough time to shower and freshen up for the evening.