Chapter 3 #2
‘Noodles, it is, then,’ said Kate, plucking the bag off the shelf and frowning at the small print to check the expiry date. ‘I can’t say I actually remember buying these. Anyway, after breakfast we’ll make a list of things you like and go shopping for them. How does that sound?’
‘Good.’
‘Now, what would you like to drink?’
‘Milo, please.’
‘Milo?’ Kate frowned again and returned to the larder. ‘I think we have some somewhere.’ She plucked out a box and held it up triumphantly.
Jen took it, opened it and grimaced at its clumped and discoloured contents. ‘I think that’s seen better days, Mum,’ she said, dropping it into the bin. ‘How about I pop down to the shop and get a few things?’
‘There’s no need for that, surely?’ said Kate. ‘There must be something else he’d like.’
‘There will be, and I’m sorry. If this hadn’t been such a spur-of-the-moment decision, I’d have arranged things better. It’s just…’ She grimaced.
‘Just that you want things to go easy with Liam, especially at first.’
‘Exactly.’ She turned to him. ‘I bet the local dairy has got Milo and boxes of Rice Krispies.’
‘A dairy? With cows?’ asked Liam, wearing an expression which suggested she’d gone mad.
Kate and Jen managed not to laugh. ‘In New Zealand, a dairy is a local shop that sells just about everything. Like a convenience store or corner shop. How about I get what you want from there?’
‘Cool,’ he said with the kind of smile she hadn’t seen on his face for far too long.
‘OK, I won’t be long.’ She looked over to where Kate was filling up the kettle. ‘Your grandma will get you some noodles, and I bet I’m back before you eat them.’
‘How are you going to get there that quickly?’ Liam asked.
Jen grabbed her bag from the hook by the door and slung it over her shoulder.
‘Follow me, and I’ll show you.’
The rusted hinges of the old shed creaked and groaned as Jen heaved the door open, revealing dust motes and cobwebs, and the pungent smell of damp earth mingled with motor oil and potting mix.
‘See, there they are.’ Jen gestured towards a pile of bicycles propped against the wall. She pulled a red one away from the wall and inspected it. ‘This one was mine. Looks like someone has been using it because the tyres aren’t flat.’
‘And whose was this one?’ Liam patted a silver-framed child’s bike.
‘That one belonged to your aunt Lucy when she was about your age. You’ll have to try it out later.’
‘Can’t I come with you now?’
‘Not this time. You need to learn how to ride it first. But we can make a start on that later this morning if you like.’
The sound of a phone ringing made them both jerk their heads towards the house. The ringing stopped, and Jen sucked in a calming breath, trying to slow her rapid heartbeat. She hated how they both reacted to the sound of a simple telephone ring. Kate emerged, phone in hand.
‘Liam!’ she called. Jen’s hand reached for Liam instinctively. Surely it couldn’t be for him? ‘Your noodles are ready.’ Jen exhaled heavily with relief.
Kate short-sightedly stabbed at the keys on the phone before placing it on the hall table behind her.
‘Who was that on the phone, Mum?’
Kate shrugged. ‘Just someone going on about holidays. Telesales calls — such a nuisance. I can’t be bothered to talk to them anymore. You know what they’re like.’
She did know what they were like. But she also knew to fear unusual phone calls.
‘Was it male or female?’
Kate looked confused and shrugged. ‘A man with a heavy accent. Did you think—’ She glanced at Liam before turning back to Jenny. ‘Nothing to worry about, darling. Seriously, I get them all the time.’
‘Right,’ Jen said. She was overreacting. She had to learn not to. ‘I’ll be off then. You go and enjoy your noodles, Liam,’ she said, as she wheeled her bike through the gate and onto the footpath. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. And then you can have a second breakfast.’
‘Take your time, Jenny,’ said Kate. ‘Why don’t you call in to see Lucy at the café? Liam and I will be fine here, won’t we, Liam?’
Liam looked from his mother back to Kate, and encouraged by her smile, nodded.
Despite this unexpected surge of confidence, Jen was about to say she’d come straight back when she stopped herself.
She mustn’t overreact. She had to find a new normal.
Liam was fine. And she, with her old bike in her hands and the New Zealand sun on her face, felt nearly normal and definitely hopeful for the first time in years.
Maybe she would take time to have a coffee before returning home.
‘OK. I won’t be long.’
With a determined push, she mounted her bicycle and pedalled down the road. Perhaps she needed this trip to the store — a trip to remind her what the real world was like — more than Liam needed his Milo.
A mist still clung to the top of the steep, bush-clad slopes which, with the sea on the other side, contained the village of MacLeod’s Cove.
Beneath the layer of cloud, the diffused sun glanced off the windows of one of the large new floor to ceiling window-clad houses which looked out to sea.
Despite this and a few other modern homes that had crept into the landscape — stylish weekenders for professional couples from Wellington — there were still enough original homes to make MacLeod’s Cove essentially feel unchanged. Jen liked that.
Five minutes later she arrived and leaned the bike against the outside wall. The small store was one of a dozen shops — including Lucy’s café — which formed the centre of the village along with the old hotel and the church hall.
The store’s bell chimed out, and the shopkeeper looked up and greeted her.
As she headed straight for the packaged goods aisle, she thought it didn’t only look the same, it smelt the same.
She inhaled deeply of the mingled aromas of fresh vegetables, bread, and the mustiness that came with a hundred-year-old shop with bare floorboards.
After paying and exchanging small talk with the owner, she exited the dairy with a bag full of things she knew wouldn’t be in her mother’s larder, and Liam’s favourite brand of cereal tucked under her arm. She left her bike where it was and made her way next door to the café.
The Perching Parrot was her little sister’s pride and joy, and as she entered it, she looked around, ready to greet her.
Lucy wasn’t at the counter or in the kitchen as far as she could see, so she glanced outside at the tables.
And her gaze fell on a man exiting a four-wheel drive before he turned to walk straight into the café.
Taller than Alistair, and with broad shoulders and sun-kissed unruly hair, her first thought was that he, too, hadn’t changed. Her second thought was that she wished — really wished — she’d gone straight home.