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

her the phone. ‘It’s rung four times in the last ten minutes.’

Fear lanced her and she stared at the device as if it was a ticking bomb. ‘Only bad news comes before the dawn.’

‘It’s always darkest before the dawn,’ Jade corrected. ‘I’ll have to tell Bob his quotes are rubbing off on you.’

Helen was about to say, ‘Ha ha, very funny,’ when the phone rang again. She prickled all over and shoved the phone at Jade. ‘You answer it.’

‘How?’

‘Press the green button.’

‘Hello? … Hello? … Who is this?’ Jade pressed the red button. ‘They hung up. How do I find the call log on this dinosaur?’

Helen fiddled with the phone and a list of numbers came up. Jade called the last one. It rang out.

‘It’s not the hospital,’ Jade said. ‘And the police don’t ring with bad news—they turn up at your door. Would it be someone from Melbourne? Maybe your ex-husband died and his family wants to tell you?’

Helen shook her head. ‘We dropped out of contact years ago. Anyway, they don’t have this number. If it was someone I usually call, their name would show up—’

The phone rang again.

‘Put it on speaker.’ When Helen vacillated, Jade pushed some buttons. ‘Okay, talk.’

‘Helen Demetriou.’

‘You have to stop,’ an electronic-sounding male voice said.

‘S-stop what?’ Her heart was flinging itself wildly against her ribs.

‘You know. If you don’t stop, we’ll stop you. You’d make great fertiliser for that precious garden of yours.’

‘Who is this?’ But even as she said the words, she knew the question was futile. The line beeped at her. She turned off the phone and threw it onto her bed, wanting to be as far away from it as possible. ‘Oh, God.’

Jade grabbed her hand and pulled her into the lounge room. ‘Sit. I’ll get us a drink.’

Helen heard her rummaging through cupboards and she returned with two generous fingers of whiskey. Helen took a gulp, coughed, then cleared her throat.

‘Unless Judith Sainsbury’s lost her mind, I don’t think it’s her. Did you recognise the voice?’

‘No. They probably used something to disguise it so we couldn’t tell. God, I wish we could afford the internet. I want to know if they’ve left any threats on the Facebook page.’

Helen’s mind struggled to think and she heaved in a long slow breath. ‘Wouldn’t that make them too easy to trace?’

‘You can hide if you use a VPN, and they’re probably using a burner phone they bought with a fake ID.’

Helen didn’t bother asking for an explanation of the unknown terms—she’d got the gist. ‘Have you had any threatening phone calls or texts from someone you don’t know? I know I uploaded the video of the mayor, but you asked the questions.’

Jade shook her head. ‘Nothing since those horrible texts from Macca.’

‘I suppose he’s worked out I’m living here.’

‘Probably. And if he knows, then maybe Corey knows.’ Jade twisted her fingers. ‘He probably figures if he freaks you out then you’ll move out, and that way—’ Her voice caught.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Helen squeezed Jade’s shoulder. ‘If you don’t want anything to do with Corey and Macca, take out an intervention order.’

‘Hah! Can you imagine Constable Fiora bothering to listen?’

‘I’m happy to support you with a statement. So would Bob. We saw what happened at your birthday.’

‘But how do we know it’s even them?’

‘Men like that think they own you and they get narky when you do things they don’t like or can’t control. They’d hate me being here, influencing you against them.’

‘Yeah, but the mayor hates you. He kicked you out of the cottage and you’re still posting on the Facebook page. If he’s found out we know about Tucker and Sino-Austral, he’d want to bury you.’

Jade’s phone buzzed with a text and they both froze. She slowly picked it up and all the colour drained from her face.

‘Who is it?’ Helen said.

‘I don’t know the number.’

‘What does it say?’

Jade blinked rapidly. ‘Look out the window, bitch.’

Helen sat up straight. ‘We’re not going to do that.’

The roar of a diesel engine thundered outside and the room suddenly lit up like daylight. Memories assaulted Helen. She grabbed Jade, pulling her under the table just as the deafening sound of throwdowns exploded under the window.

Milo screamed. Jade moved to go to him.

Helen gripped her upper arm, her fingers digging in deep. ‘He’s safe. Scared but safe. You might not be.’

The whip and crack of another round of explosions detonated around them and they clung together. Amid the explosions, two shots rang out. It was history repeating itself.

‘Corey’s got guns,’ Jade sobbed, clinging to Helen. ‘I’m sorry. I never thought he’d hate me this much.’

The gunfire was the finale—the engine roared and the lights swung away.

Milo’s screams rattled the walls and an intense surge of maternal protection flooded Helen. She’d do whatever it took to keep them safe.

They crawled to Jade’s room and snuggled Milo between them.

‘Do you have your phone?’ Helen asked.

Jade shook her head.

‘I’ll go and get mine.’

‘In a minute.’

Helen nodded, understanding how terrifying being alone was, even for a moment. The piercing wail of a siren sounded in the distance and a strangled laugh broke out of her tight throat.

‘I’ve got a funny feeling we won’t need to ring the police after all.’

‘What’s happening now?’ Bob asked.

Helen gripped her phone with one hand and used her forefinger of the other to barely lift the sheet off the window architrave and peek outside. Serenity Street was in uproar. The fourth-generation Australians battling poverty, and dependent on a black market of drugs and anything stolen, were clearly unsettled by the presence of the police. The Hazara families, wrenched from sleep by explosions that didn’t differentiate from the sounds of war, huddled together, traumatised at being plunged back into a past they’d fought so hard to flee. They were likely questioning their safety and how this could happen in Australia. Helen was asking the same question.

Most of the residents were on the street, demanding answers from Sergeant North, who didn’t look as put