Page 30 of Wings Above the Mallee

One of the clients waiting to speak with the lawyer snorted with laughter and Amelia grimaced. It was hard, after years of working outdoors, to remember to modulate her voice to ‘office’ rather than ‘acres’.

Sean brandished a handful of pages. ‘The agenda for tonight. Heath mentioned you’ll be there? Maybe you should join the committee, instead of just waiting around to lock up behind us.’

She shook her head. ‘Strictly work.’ She wasn’t about to risk getting involved with this community. ‘I hear you’re expecting quite a few more people to show up this week.’

Sean cocked an eyebrow. ‘And are we pleased about that or not?’

She remembered to lower her voice this time. ‘Given that Dave Jaensch has been drumming up support for his anti-skatepark campaign, I’d suggest dubious optimism, at best.’

‘A skatepark?’ a client seated on one of the motley cloth-covered chairs in the centre of the room exclaimed. ‘My kids would be all over that.’ She immediately looked down at her hands, red creeping up her neck as though she doubted her right to voice an opinion.

‘Why don’t you come along tonight?’ Sean suggested.

‘Like the bloody council ever cares what the rate payers want,’ the other client waiting to see James grumbled. ‘They don’t even realise that us smaller towns exist.’

‘This hasn’t anything to do with council, though I’d say we’ll be hitting them up for funding at some stage.’ Sean leaned over Amelia’s desk. ‘So it pays to keep Dave on side,’ he murmured, then turned back to the others. ‘The RAG is a non-partisan get-together, just spit-balling ways to make Settlers Bridge … better. So if you’ve got thoughts?’ He paused, extending a hand.

The other man reached up without standing and shook Sean’s hand briefly. ‘Robert.’

‘If you’ve got ideas on how to revitalise the town, Rob, we’re all ears. And …?’ Again, the pause.

‘Danielle,’ the woman offered, still staring at her lap.

‘Danielle, perhaps bring your kids along, let them put in their five cents’ worth? What do you have, boys or girls?’

‘Two of each. My husband reckons the footy and netball teams need the support. Wants to go for a fifth.’

Sean chuckled. ‘I’m quite sure team spirit isn’t his only reason.’

Danielle glanced up, then caught Sean’s inference. She blushed deeper, but looked flattered.

Sean was a charmer, no doubt about it. He was infallibly easy to like. Unlike his son.

Amelia stood, pulling on her jacket.

‘You off out?’ Sean asked.

‘Ducking home to sort the lambs.’

‘I’ll walk with you.’

Depending on the direction of the breeze, scents of the lush vegetation fringing the river or the rather riper smell of the dairy farms on the outskirts of town swirled about them as they reached the footpath in front of the old council chamber.

‘You don’t strike me as the office type,’ Sean said.

Amelia’s gut clenched; he shouldn’t be able to tell. She had to make herself fit in the office, as far from her former life as she could. Flying was her only respite, the only joy she would allow. ‘Gotta do what pays the bills,’ she lied. She glanced into the windows of the house that served as the GP’s office, looking for Taylor. They’d had surprisingly little time to catch up, and she vacillated between relief she didn’t have to have a deep and meaningful with the doctor and concern for her obviously overworked friend’s well-being.

She pulled the edges of her jacket a little closer as they tramped the footpath. ‘My house is on the next street.’

‘Yep, I know,’ Sean said. ‘I dropped Heath off with the lamb the other week.’

‘You should have come in.’ Heath had been less surly than she’d anticipated, so the brief visit hadn’t been too awkward. ‘Bit of a nip in the air today.’

‘My favourite time of year. Seems like autumn doesn’t quite want to let go, though,’ Sean said.

Goosebumps covered Amelia’s arms at the reminder of Gavin’s words. Now she would never acknowledge autumnwithout thinking about death. Not that the spectre was ever far from her mind.

As her keys clinked together, the lambs rushed to the side gate, bleating loudly. ‘Shh, shh,’ she said, thrusting her fingers through the palings to quieten them. ‘You’re going to get us kicked out.’

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