Where the Heart Is

Chapter 3

CHAPTER

3

‘I never should’ve returned to this godforsaken town,’ Adelaide muttered, as her car stalled for the umpteenth time on the outskirts of Ashe Ridge and finally died.

Though it could be worse. At least there was a cottage within walking distance.

She’d call Mila and hopefully get her to delay the wedding. So much for surprising her granddaughter. But it couldn’t be helped.

At least she’d made it. Almost.

After sliding her mobile with its flat battery into her bag and jamming a wide-brimmed straw hat onto her head, she locked the car and headed for the cottage about five hundred metres away. Her handwoven sandals were no match for the burning bitumen and the hem of her tie-dyed kaftan stuck to her legs as she trudged up the road. She’d forgotten how hot Ashe Ridge could be even in autumn and sweat soon covered her skin.

So much for presenting a cool front when she arrived at the wedding and confronted Jack for the first time in fourteen years. Seeing her husband would be tough enough without looking like a bedraggled, sweaty mess.

She’d wanted to show him how far she’d come. How living in Tally Bay suited her. How she’d thrived among people who appreciated her, who understood her, two things Jack had never done.

Walking away from Jack Hayes had been the best thing she could’ve done, and fourteen years was long enough to wait for closure.

She wanted a divorce.

She’d contemplated reaching out to him several times over the years to put an end to their non-existent marriage. But the thought of any kind of contact with Jack, even via lawyers, ruined her mood, and she’d worked hard to achieve Zen.

But a decade and a half was long enough to wait. In a way, she’d been surprised that Jack hadn’t instigated proceedings first. He could’ve reached her any time via Mila or Will, who she spoke to regularly. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise her that Jack was too lazy to get off his arse and be proactive. Her husband had liked being served his dinner at the table, having his bills paid and his life run smoothly. She’d been chef, accountant, nurse, farmhand, mother, grandmother, wrangler, and any other job that needed doing all rolled into one. The one role he hadn’t acknowledged her in was wife.

He’d taken her for granted and paid the price.

Not that Jack cared. If he had he would’ve come after her when she left. She’d spent a few nights at a motel in Kaniva initially, waiting for him to come to his senses and chase after her. He hadn’t, making it clear he didn’t care if she stayed or left.

That moment, sitting on a worn chenille bedspread in a motel room that smelled faintly of curry and cigarette smoke, her eyes burning and bloodshot from the copious tears she’d shed, had been a wake-up call. She’d had enough of being Jack’s general dogsbody and if he didn’t care enough about her to try to convince her to come home, she was done.

She’d taken her time driving from western Victoria to the east coast, spending a night in Lakes Entrance before heading into New South Wales, where she’d stayed at Eden and Sydney before reaching her final destination.

The artistic vibe of Tally Bay, about forty minutes south of its famous counterpart Byron Bay, had beckoned for years and no amount of hinting had made Jack book a trip to the laidback coastal town. She’d contemplated leaving him twice before she finally did and each time she’d researched Tally Bay, knowing she’d love the town if she was lucky enough to visit.

As she’d hoped, the moment she drove into town, a feeling of peace descended, and she’d embraced every aspect of her eclectic new home. She’d stayed in the caravan park initially, to scope out the town, before renting a studio at the back of a mansion owned by an absentee Hollywood couple.

She’d never been more grateful for the nest egg her shrewd mother had insisted she hide away for a rainy day, because it allowed her the freedom to live alone while following her passion: painting.

In Ashe Ridge, she’d never had time to paint. The only time she had a brush in her hand was when Jack insisted she help refurbish the sunroom because he was too tight to pay a local to do the job. But in Tally Bay, she invested in good-quality paints subsidised by her part-time job in a trendy juice bar and allowed her imagination to run free. Oil paintings, watercolours, charcoal sketches, she’d done it all and had sold enough of her work through a local gallery that catered to tourists to earn a semi-decent living.

Not that the money mattered. She would’ve happily gone full time at the juice bar if it meant maintaining her freedom, and now it was time to make the break from her past official. Once the ink had dried on her divorce papers, she’d run naked along Tally Bay’s main beach and swim at midnight.

The thought made her smile and as she neared the cottage, she took a moment to appreciate its beauty. Sun reflected off the sandstone bricks and the gunmetal-grey tin roof, while an ivory-trimmed verandah ran the length of the front and tucked around a corner towards the back.

Her breath caught as she realised the cottage resembled her dream house, the one she’d pointed out to Jack on their honeymoon in the Adelaide Hills. He’d indulged her, asking how she’d like the interior fitted out and how many rooms she wanted. She’d said she wanted a mezzanine floor to overlook a cosy living room and described exactly how that would look.

Pity when the honeymoon ended, so did Jack’s romantic side.

Once they were entrenched at Hills Homestead, the family farm he’d inherited when his parents died, her dreams for a different future faded, obliterated by endless bills and chores and drudgery. And her hopes for the kind of marriage she’d always hoped for—based on love, mutual respect, friendship—faded just as fast.

She’d done her duty and delivered an heir to the farm, but even an amazing son like Cam couldn’t appease Jack. She didn’t blame her son for leaving town to study in Melbourne, and when he married a girl with wanderlust in her blood, Adelaide knew she’d lost the one thing that might’ve kept her in a lacklustre marriage.

Cam and Julie may have hated Ashe Ridge—their disdain more than evident on the rare times they visited—but they had no qualms in dumping their kids on her every chance they got. She’d practically raised Mila and Will, and it hadn’t surprised her when Cam and Julie had left to teach children in third-world countries, leaving their own to fend for themselves. Mila had been ten when her parents left, Will eleven, so Addy had waited until Mila finished school before she hit the road herself.

Thankfully, Mila loved the farm, so Adelaide didn’t feel so bad leaving her with Jack. Though not a day went by in the ensuing years that she didn’t miss her grandkids. She wished she’d been around for Mila and it pained her that she hadn’t been tempted to return to Ashe Ridge to be with her granddaughter. But that would mean seeing Jack and too many years had passed by then for the two of them to reconcile.

Mila didn’t hold it against her, and they caught up for a girly weekend annually in Sydney. Mila was everything Adelaide wished she’d been at her age: strong-willed, determined, independent. She liked to think Mila got her resilience from her, but in truth her headstrong granddaughter had probably learned to look after herself because her parents had wanderlust and were never around.

Adelaide blamed herself for that. Maybe her yearning to leave the farm had somehow infiltrated Cam’s childhood so he wanted the same. She couldn’t call her son selfish for leaving his family behind when she’d done the same.

Her left hip twanged as she stepped onto the verandah, and she rubbed it. Endless hours on her feet while she painted added up at her age and while she considered seventy-three youngish—she still had a lot of living to do—her joints didn’t agree.

The cottage had a freshly painted ebony door and a brass knocker that the owner must polish daily to maintain its sheen; she could see her reflection in it.

Taking off her hat and running a hand through her hair, she lifted the brass knocker with her other hand and let it fall. She hoped the owners were home with their cars in the garage because she couldn’t see cars in the driveway.

She waited a minute and, heart sinking, she rapped the knocker twice. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a bolt being slid back and she exhaled in relief. If she could use the owner’s phone, she might make it to Mila’s wedding on time after all.

However, her relief was short-lived as the door swung open and she locked gazes with the last man on earth she expected to see.