Page 155 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Penny strides towards him, the need to beat me to him obvious. “What is it, Len?” she barks. Straight to the point. No time for a friendly greeting.Jesus. For all she knows he’s here to wish Dad a happy birthday. They’ve been friends for decades.

“G’day, Penny.” Len juts his head, eyes on me. “Just need a quick word with Jerry.”

Mum throws her hands up in the air and scoffs. “Jesus H. Christ, Jer. What now?” She narrows her eyes.If looks could kill.

“Go inside, Ma. Lunch’ll be gettin’ cold.” Not letting her get in another word, I pace towards the dusty vehicle.

Len moves in step with me. “Sorry, but I needed to talk to you.” He adjusts his belt beneath his rounded belly.

“What was so important you had to hunt me down here?” Mum won’t let up until she knows what the hell’s goin’ on. But I’m done talking to her.

“Your court date’s been delayed until the end of October. Magistrate Scullin had a heart attack and dropped dead, the old bugger.”

“Shit.” Whilst a part of me is relieved to have a reprieve until then, I can’t help but feel bad for the family. I’ve had my dealings with him over the years, but he’d always been fair.

“The court’s scramblin’ to get one of the circuit magistrates to come out this way to deal with current cases.” He hands me a piece of paper with a court seal and signature on it. “This is your new date.”

Twenty-seven October.

“Thanks, I guess.” I fold the paper and shove it into my back pocket.

“Tell your lawyer it could be delayed further but be ready just in case.”

“Sure.” I release a breath, my shoulders suddenly heavier with the weight of it all. “What do ya reckon my chances are?”

He shrugs and looks up towards the house. “Right now, I’d be more worried about what awaits you on the porch. That woman is throwing some serious daggers your way.”

“Ha. That ain’t nothin’ new.”

Len opens the rear door of his car and retrieves a paper bag with a bottle of alcohol in it. He hands it over.

“Here. Give that to Mick. Wish the old bugger a happy birthday for me.”

“Thanks, Len. Will do.”

He angles into the car and leans his right arm out the open window. “Word is you’ve got a kid on the way.”

I square my shoulders. “Yep.”

He nods. “I hope it all works out for ya.”

“Thanks.”

Len’s car whirs and squeaks as it reverses then turns back towards the highway.

I face the onslaught of invisible daggers as I approach the old farmhouse.

Mum grips my upper arm as I step past her. “What’s that about?” She strengthens her grip.

“Nothin’ that concerns you.” She’s already on my last nerve. She doesn’t need to know about this.

“Jer,” she growls and digs her fingers in harder.

I yank my arm free and open the screen door. “Can we eat and fuckin’ sing ‘Happy Birthday’, already?”