Page 69 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
‘Anyway, girls – ’
‘We’re not girls,’ Shirl says loudly. ‘We’re ladies. Women at a pinch.’
‘All right,ladies.’ He winks at Shirl, who makes a chopping action with the secateurs.
‘Anyway,’ he goes on, ‘love what you’re doing here. Looks great. But you won’t have to do it again.’
Barb stands up, wielding her trowel as if it’s a sword. ‘Who are you?’
The man holds up his hands. ‘Whoa, Tex, don’t shoot me. I’m Vince.’
‘Vince who?’
‘Need-to-know basis.’ He seems to think this is a hilarious response and Barb looks furious.
‘I work in property,’ he says. ‘Aaaand …’ He spreads his arms and half-turns around. ‘Some mates and I have plans to develop this beautiful spot. Isn’t that ace?’ He puts his hands onhis hips and nods. ‘Just waiting on the paperwork. So, uh, it’s nice you’re keeping the place pretty and everything, but all this will be gone soon.’
Kathy feels a little sick, and from the look on the faces of the others, they do too. This spot? This public land on the water that people enjoy with their dogs and their kids? Where they have picnics and ride bikes? If it’s developed, the walking trail will be severed at this point and no one will be able to continue around the river.
‘Like hell it will!’ Barb says, and Kathy’s mouth drops open because Barb’s volume has never before gone above lullaby level. ‘This is public land!’
‘Not for long.’ Vince winks again. Now it’s his eyelashes Kathy would like to sever. ‘But if you don’t like it, take it up with the council. Not sure how far you’ll get, but.’ With that he tucks his shirt further into his trousers, turns and walks away.
As Kathy glances around the group she sees mouths as open as hers.
‘They can’t do that, can they?’ she murmurs.
‘This has been happening,’ Barb says darkly. ‘Too often.’ She glances at Shirl. ‘But never on land like this.’
‘Can we go to the council?’
‘Only if you take a whacking great bribe with you,’ Shirl mutters.
‘Shirley,’ Barb warns.
‘All right, all right. Unfounded rumours.’ Shirl purses her lips. ‘But we’re not going to solve anything this morning. These roses are still here. Let’s get on with it.’
Kathy slowly restarts her examination of the rose branch but her mind is whirring. She hasn’t lived in this area long but she knows how rare these public lands are when they’re in this sort of housing area. Sure, there’s the national park at Noosa Heads, but people need green space where they live too. There’s a little park near her house and she likes just looking at it, even if she doesn’t spend much time there.
Maybe she could ask the council if there’s anything she could do. Yeah, right – not likely. She’s one person and she’s not a local. It doesn’t sound like Shirl or Barb have much faith that anything would change. This could be something she just needs to accept.
Except she feels a niggle, in her belly. Like an itch on the inside. The feeling she gets when she knows something isn’t right. She’s familiar with it because she had it for a lot of her marriage; she doesn’t want to live with it for that long again.
She glances at Shirl, whose face is like thunder as she digs into the dirt, and at Barb, who looks upset, and that decides it: Kathy’s going to at least try to talk to someone. What kind of civic gardener is she if she doesn’t even try?
Perhaps she can rope in some of the others. Not Lorraine – she’s too busy. Elizabeth has enough on her plate.
Cynthia. She’ll know what to do. Give it a few weeks so she’s not spending as much time with Odette, then Kathy will give her a call.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lorrainehas been feeling out of sorts. It’s a generalised feeling, in that it’s with her all the time, but she thinks it has a few specific causes. One is the ongoing situation with Cora and the children. She’s sure Cora’s giving Simon extra food, because he’s putting on weight and Lorraine isn’t feeding him differently. It’s not that she minds Simon having treats every now and again – it’s that she thinks Cora’s doing it just to get at her, to undermine her, to try to make her own son prefer his grandmother.
Lorraine said something to her mother about it and Rose said that Mike needed to sort it out, because it’s his mother and his son and Lorraine shouldn’t have to do everything.
Now she’s waiting for Mike to come to bed and it’s not really the time to bring up those sorts of subjects. It’d kill the mood. And she does like the mood. The mood is what keeps her going in the hard times when she wants to clobber Mike over the head for all the things he washes his hands of around the house. He probably knows it, too, that’s why he’s so good at creating that particular mood.
As he walks heavily into their bedroom, though, Lorraine can tell there will be no mood tonight. The corners of his mouth are turned down and his shoulders are sagging. Normally he stands uppretty straight, and he’s fit from all the manual labour so he looks quite strong. The Mike in front of her now looks defeated. Weak.
