Page 74 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
And that’s how it’s done, she congratulated herself as she peeled off her rubber gloves. One non-date but date-like day with Tom coming up. Two, if she counted the committee meeting. Perhaps she should celebrate with a biscuit!
She wandered down the hallway to the reception area. ‘Morning, Sandy.’
‘Hi, Hannah. Early start?’
‘Too early. A dog fell off the back of an interstate truck taking gravel out to Crackenback and we were the only local vet who answered the owner’s phone call.’
‘Ouch. How was the dog?’
‘Battered and bruised, but nothing broken. Fattest kelpie I’ve ever seen. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’d bounced. She’s doing the rest of the trip in the passenger seat and probably getting hand fed Chiko rolls every time they pass a servo. Any word from Sally Rees? Her cat was due in.’
‘You say cat, I say demon. But no, I haven’t heard from her. I’ll give her a call.’
‘It’s not urgent if she has to reschedule. I’ve got biopsy samples to keep me busy, anyway. You got the bookings page open?’
Sandy turned to the computer and clacked about on the keyboard for a second. ‘Yep. What do you need?’
‘Who’s on call on Sunday?’
‘You are.’
‘Can you give that to Josh? I’ve … got something on.’
Sandy pulled her glasses off and looked her over. ‘Does this something revolve around the six-foot-two of eye candy that just disappeared out the side door?’
Hannah felt her cheeks burning. ‘It’s not like that, Sandy,’ she said. Unfortunately.
‘You sure? You look kind of flustered and red in the face.’
‘That’ll be the book I was reading on the sly in the back room. Mrs Grundy recommended it.’ As an excuse it wasn’t her finest, but she’d said it now. She motored on before Sandy could start making any more deductions—or worse, ask to borrow the book before she’d finished, because no-one was getting between her and the Laird of Finchmore before she’d made it to the last chapter.
‘Picnic races. To look at a horse.’
‘Because you’re an expert on racehorses?’
‘Was that sarcasm?’ Sandy was so dry it was hard to tell.
Sandy grinned. ‘Make me a cup of tea and I’ll remind Josh that you covered for him when Poppy got suspended from school and he had to hightail it to Sydney.’
‘I’d forgotten about that. You’ve got an excellent brain, Sandy. One cup of tea coming up. I can’t remember: is sugar a yes or a no this week?’
‘It’s a hell yes. Parent meetings are on at school this week and I’m carbo loading to get through it.’
‘Oh no. Which son is giving you grief this time? Oh, hang on, tell me all about it later. I think I can hear yowling from the bowels of hell on the footpath. My ten o’clock just arrived.’
CHAPTER
26
On Thursday, only fifteen minutes late on account of a talkative spaniel owner, Hannah pushed open the door to the Hanrahan Pub and let herself into the corridor.
Everything gleamed: the paint, the banister and newell post of the wide timber stairs, the glass on the old photographs lining the walls. Furniture polish hung heavy in the air as did the smell of something delicious.
Beer.
The public bar wasn’t crowded—far from it—but she took a moment to check out the faces to see who she knew and who she didn’t. The only stranger was still vaguely familiar … he must be the guy from Dalgety.
‘Hannah, my lamb, pass these around and drag some chairs into a circle, will you, pet?’ Marigold thrust a bundle of papers in her hands and roared off to a table in the corner where Kev was laying out cups and saucers and ripping open packets of Arnott’s Assorted. Beside him was the big silver urn that followed the Joneses around from function to function: craft, weddings, community hall, anything.
