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

as a couple and hopefully a family—installing hydronic heating, insulation, new bathrooms, a cook’s kitchen, and lovingly restoring the Australian fauna and flora motifs in the plaster cornices.

This cottage lacked the grandeur of Tingledale but its bones were solid.

‘Is this the original wallpaper and fireplace?’ she asked.

Helen looked at the faded pattern as if she’d never noticed it before. ‘I guess so. The house belongs to the shire and they do the bare minimum to keep it habitable.’

Could this be a project for Hoopers to showcase their products? Tara’s mind recoiled from the idea so fast it gave her whiplash. Suggesting something like that to Jon would only reinforce her status as a business partner not a lover.

Who was she kidding? That was already a done deal.

‘If the shire’s not interested in doing it up, they should sell it to someone who is,’ she said. ‘They could jack it up and move it.’

‘I’d rather they didn’t.’

‘But it’s a piece of Boolanga’s history that’s fading away.’

‘And if they sold it, I’d have nowhere to live and I quite like it here.’ Helen smiled, softening her dry tone. ‘Don’t the garden beds look fantastic? I hope you can see how much your donations have helped. I thought it might be nice to take some photos with you and the women for our new Facebook page.’

Tara took a steadying breath. ‘About that. We’ve got a bit of a problem.’

Helen frowned. ‘We do?’

‘Yes. When you came to us and asked for donations, we didn’t know this was a refugee garden.’

‘It’s not.’

‘It clearly is. Every one of those women out there is a refugee.’

‘That’s a pretty big statement. Jade’s not. How do you know these women aren’t here on skilled migrant visas?’

‘If they were, they’d be working not gardening.’

‘Fiza works. You can’t tell someone is a refugee just by looking at them. Believe me, you can get a very warped view of anyone with one quick glance.’

You never get a second chance to make a first impression. The words rippled the pool of Tara’s beliefs instilled in her by her mother.

‘And Jade isn’t a single teenage mother?’ she asked.

‘She is a teenage mother, but not for long. Her birthday’s coming up. As for single, she may well have a partner. I don’t know because I haven’t asked her. It’s really none of our business.’

The words were a rebuke, adding to Tara’s discomfort. But before she’d worked out how to respond, Helen was talking again.

‘Yes, these women arrived here with refugee status, but on their fourth anniversary they’ll be conferred with Australian citizenship. This garden is an extension of the community garden and everyone here is a member of our community.’

‘Judith says it’s nothing to do with the community garden. That it shouldn’t exist.’

Helen’s shoulders squared. ‘Judith doesn’t want it to exist, but that’s irrelevant. We have written permission from the shire and Judith has the letter.’

‘Either way, you’ve put me in a very difficult position.’

‘I don’t see how. It’s not my fault Judith’s been in your ear.’

‘I’m not talking about the feud you and Judith have going on. I’m talking about the fact you have Africans gardening here.’

‘We currently have one delightful Sudanese family gardening here. And you would have known that if you’d accepted my invitation for a tour the first time we met. Are you saying if you’d known about Fiza, you wouldn’t have helped?’

Agitation skittered, bumping into Tara’s discomfort at her own mistake. ‘I’m saying that African kids are breaking into our store and stealing. Imagine how I feel knowing our generosity’s helping the people causing us constant stress!’

‘Surely if you know who’s breaking into the store, they’ve been arrested by the police.’

Tara’s arms crossed automatically as if warding off an attack. ‘They haven’t been caught yet. But they will be soon. We’ve installed CCTV. If my husband finds out about this, he’ll have a fit.’

‘Will he hurt you?’ Helen asked gently.

‘What? No! Of course not.’

‘So to avoid an argument about one Sudanese family who are gardening here and are probably not stealing from your store, you’re prepared to disadvantage twenty women who have just generously thanked you.’

The words sprayed like shot, stinging and accusing. ‘I don’t have to listen to this.’

‘True, but this is your mistake, Tara. If you’d refused to help from the start, I would have been disappointed but I’d have accepted it. But you didn’t. Hoopers’ sponsorship is very much appreciated and will continue to be unless you withdraw it. I’m hoping you’ll take responsibility for your actions in a way that doesn’t prejudice innocent people …’

It was as if her mother was using Helen to channel her beliefs from the grave. Own your mistakes, Tara. Learn from them.

‘… people who’ve already suffered more upheaval in their lives than you’re ever likely to experience.’

Tara was fast getting sick of the privilege insult. ‘You have no idea what I’ve experienced.’

‘That’s quite true,’ Helen said evenly. ‘Just like you don’t know what I’ve experienced. But I’ll tell you one thing we have in common. Neither of us have been forced to flee the country we love and call home to save our lives or those of our children.’

‘I’m not racist. I’m not objecting to refugees per se. Just the ones who are breaking the law!’

‘No one should be breaking the law. How about this for an idea? Leave the sponsorship in place until you know exactly who is behind the store break-ins.’

Tara wanted to argue with the logic, but it ran up against the way her mother had raised her and the lesson she was constantly teaching Flynn and Clemmie—be responsible.

If she took back the stock, she’d have to tell Jon. They’d argue yet again about work, which would spin into the pit of despair that was their marriage. Then there was the issue of what she’d do with the used stock. Also, despite disliking Helen’s frank assessment of her, Tara felt there was something inherently honest about the woman. For reasons she didn’t fully understand, she didn’t want Judith