Page 11 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘Oh,’ Rose said.

‘It was such a terrible tragedy,’ the orange-haired woman continued, barely pausing for breath. ‘For Matt and his poor little daughter Vicki. He’s doing his best, poor soul, but those in-laws of his … Since Kim’s death, they have been interfering a lot. Always up here. They have no boundaries, really. None at all.’

As the words ‘pot’ and ‘kettle’ were forming in Rose’s brain, Deb’s husband Shane joined their little group. ‘Excuse me. Hello, Val. Why don’t you and Peter take that table over by the window? I’ll bring your usual over for you in a minute or two.’

A man in his sixties took Val’s arm and led her away. From the look of him, he was her husband and well used to dragging her away from similar circumstances.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Shane said as soon as the woman was out of earshot. ‘That’s Val, our postmistress. She’s not a bad person, but she is a terrible gossip, and always on the lookout for new faces.’

‘It’s fine.’ Bree waved his concern away.

‘I hope it hasn’t put you off our small town,’ Shane said as he went back to the bar.

‘It would take more than one gossip to do that.’ Bree smiled at Rose and lifted her glass of soda water. ‘I think I’ve found it, Nan.’

Rose lifted her glass as well. ‘Then here’s to your new home.’

CHAPTER

5

‘I’m sorry, Matt. But you know what she can be like.’

Matt and Brian, his father-in-law—or was it former father-in-law?—were sitting in Matt’s living room, while sounds of Vicki and her grandmother baking came from the kitchen.

‘You should have called. You know I want you and Sally to be part of Vicki’s life, but I was working. I need that sale to keep the business going. To keep our home.’

‘You know, if you moved to Newcastle near us, we’d be able to help. Sally would love to babysit when you are working. Vicki is so like Kim …’ His voice trailed off and Matt knew the pain his father-in-law was feeling. It wasn’t right that a parent should have to bury their child. And it wasn’t right that Vicki should grow up without her mother. Or that Matt should be alone. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.

The two men were still sitting in silence, each lost in his own memories, when Vicki came through from the kitchen, proudly and oh so carefully carrying a plate with a cake on it.

‘Look, Daddy. Grandpa. I baked a cake.’

‘Well, so you did. And it’s a lovely cake.’ Matt got up to ensure the cake made it safely to the coffee table.

‘Are you going to have some of my cake, Grandpa?’

‘Of course I am, sweetheart.’

Sally cut the first slice and laid it on a small plate. She handed it to Vicki to deliver. ‘Your mummy used to cook cakes all the time, darling girl. Do you remember?’ There was a pleading tone to Sally’s voice.

Vicki put her head on the side. ‘I … I think so. Daddy?’

‘She did, honey. But it’s all right if you don’t remember.’ Matt felt Sally’s glare, but he ignored it.

‘Your mummy loved you very much, Vicki.’ Sally’s voice was harsh. Matt knew it was grief making it sound that way, but Vicki didn’t and his little girl’s face fell. ‘You must always remember that she loved you.’

Matt could have cursed. Sally was right. Of course she was right. He wanted Vicki to remember her mother and they often talked about her together. But Vicki had been four when Kim died and it’s hard to hang on to memories when you’re that young. Sally was making it sound as if Vicki was doing something wrong. Something that deserved punishment.

‘Vicki, honey, remember what we talked about? Mummy knows that you love her. And she’ll always be part of our family. Even if sometimes we forget the little things, we’ll never forget how much she loved us.’

Vicki nodded. She looked around at the grown-ups, then her face brightened. ‘Grandpa, there are alpacas coming to live near us soon. Look, I have a book.’ She darted across the room and returned with one of the books she’d been reading. She opened it and showed it to her grandfather. ‘Aren’t they pretty?’

‘Alpacas?’ Sally frowned. ‘They’re big animals. Aren’t they dangerous?’

‘It’s all right, Granny, they’re not dangers. They’re pretty. Look.’ Vicki thrust the book at Sally, who barely gave it a glance. ‘Daddy says we can go visit the alpacas when they come to live with the lady.’

Sally’s brows shot up. ‘The lady?’

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