A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe (feel good books .txt) 📕

looking like we’ll have to dismantle it for public safety.’

Dismantle? As part of their initial costings, she and Jon had snuck down and snooped around the outside of the cottage. Jon had insisted on crawling under it and she’d held her breath the whole time. Although it had taken him longer than it used to, he’d emerged filthy but with a grin that spun her heart. She knew his excitement wasn’t limited to no signs of termites in the foundations.

‘What if the community restored it?’ she asked Geoff.

He sighed. ‘That’s a nice idea in principle, but we don’t have any fat in the budget to run a fundraising campaign, let alone allocate a staff member to coordinate it. It’s my experience that everyone’s sentimental about history until they’re asked to stick their hands in their pockets.’

Tara frowned. ‘The war memorial was restored two years ago.’

‘Yes, well, people feel differently about the war. This is a cottage that looks pretty similar to half a dozen in town.’

That was inaccurate given the cottage predated the town by twenty-two years, but Tara knew she wouldn’t win any points by mentioning it.

‘We feel very strongly about the cottage,’ she said. ‘Hoopers Hardware and Timber would happily spearhead a community restoration project and provide the building materials. We’d work closely with the historical society and the library to ensure a faithful restoration. All we’re asking is for it to be relocated to the museum.’

Geoff pulled on his ear, his expression thoughtful, then slid a business card out of his wallet. ‘I can’t make you any promises—due process and all that—but email me a document outlining exactly what you’re offering. I’ll get Engineering and Parks’ input and discuss it with my fellow councillors. But as community is what we’re all about here in Boolanga and your idea has that written all over it, I’m pretty optimistic it will sail through.’

Anticipation buzzed, making her jumpy and excited. ‘Thank you, Geoff!’

‘I better get going or Sheree will have my guts for garters.’ He tapped his credit card and left with his purchases.

Tara’s stomach rumbled. It was two o’clock and she’d covered everyone’s lunch break but not taken one herself. She texted Jon: Meet me at the sausage sizzle tent?

Clemmie on the teacups. Give me five

She grabbed her hat and on the way out ran into Al Kvant.

‘Hey, Tara. You must be happy. Looks like everyone’s doing their present-buying early.’

‘A lot will be browsing for ideas with plans to order a cheaper online version on Black Friday.’

‘That’s gotta hurt.’

Tara had always liked Al more than Kelly—he was the kinder of the two. ‘It does, but we get the win when their item arrives damaged or doesn’t fit. Then we woo them with our customer service and keep them. Are you looking for something in particular?’

‘Just some leather cleaner. With the bye this afternoon, I thought I’d give the Valiant some love.’

Cricket and classic cars were Al’s two passions.

‘Do you reckon the team can beat Numurkah next week?’ Tara asked.

‘It’s always a bit of a grudge match, but Simmo’s in good form so I reckon we’re in with a chance.’

‘Paul Simpson? I thought he was playing with Cobram these days.’

‘He’s back. Lucky really with Jon being sick and all.’

‘Jon’s not sick. He has a condition.’

‘You know what I mean. His bowling’s not what it was.’

Tara flashed hot and cold. I arrived just as they were packing up. ‘Have you told him Simmo’s back?’

‘I tried the other night, but the poor bugger was already sitting there nursing soda water.’ Al shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. ‘Thing is, Tara, the team’s determined to wrench back the trophy from Tatura this year so we’re cutting a few people.’

She hooked his evasive gaze. ‘And which few people would that be?’

He looked at his feet and sighed. ‘Yeah, okay. It’s just Jon. Would you mind telling him? It will come better from you.’

Are you freaking kidding me? She breathed deeply, trying to douse the molten fury melting her control. ‘No, Al.’

Genuine surprise creased his forehead. ‘Why not?’

‘I think you know why. The team’s name is Boolanga Old Boys for a reason. None of you are twenty any more. So he bowls the occasional wide and drops a catch; most of you do that. How would you feel if you discovered the club you’ve belonged to all your life has replaced you without having the decency to tell you? If the team doesn’t want Jon to play then the team tells him.’ Her restraint slipped. ‘And Jesus, Al! You’re supposed to be his friend.’

‘I am!’ Al sounded shocked she’d questioned his friendship. ‘When the committee were worried Jon might pull his sponsorship, I told them he wasn’t like that.’

I am. I’ll pull the sponsorship. ‘I can’t answer for him.’

Al frowned, disappointed not to get the reassurance he wanted. ‘It’s hard, Tara. I don’t want to make him feel any worse.’

‘I think that boat’s already sailed.’

‘Right.’

But there was nothing right about any of this.

‘I promised the kids I’d meet them five minutes ago,’ she lied, desperate to get away.

‘No worries.’

Seething, she walked outside before Al suggested she host a gang get-together so he could break Jon’s heart in his own home.

The melodic tones of the Boolanga Blokes rang out, singing Christmas carols—the lyrics about snow incongruous in the afternoon heat. Tara noticed Jade, the young mother from the community garden, standing off to the side and listening intently to Kelly’s boss, Fatima.

The lunchtime rush was well and truly over so Tara walked straight up to the sausage sizzle serving table. She was delighted to see Helen standing behind it.

‘I didn’t know you were part of the—’ she glanced at the chalkboard, checking the exact organisation, ‘—Food Rights group.’ She had a sudden need to be honest. ‘To tell the truth, I didn’t know we had people going hungry in Boolanga. You’re teaching me a lot.’

Helen smiled. ‘Happy to help. Have you met Bob Murphy?’

‘Mummy!’ Clementine ran over clutching a red balloon and excitedly flung her arms around