Chapter 1 #2
Outside, the rain that had been threatening all week felt imminent, and he hoped, for the sake of the local farmers, that the storm clouds would deliver on their promise.
Birds huddled under the eaves of the school’s generous verandahs, sheltering from the wind, just like the new lambs would be doing at South Giddi Giddi, the property he’d called home for the last eight years.
Spencer let Dolly roam towards the front entrance, rescuing a forgotten flag whipping wildly in the wind. He folded the school flag, whistled Dolly up, and made for the front office.
‘I knew I was forgetting something after bus duty this arvo. Thanks, Spencer.’ Mia Angelino rubbed her back, and he tried to remember how far along his best mate’s wife was.
Halfway through? He knew it was a detail he should have remembered, but in the rush of mid-term madness, it was one detail too many to recall at short notice.
‘Tipping you’re not heading down the pub after the staff meeting?’ he asked, watching her cover a yawn. ‘If we get out before midnight, that is.’
Mia laughed and stole a look over her shoulder. ‘Spoken like someone who’s taught for far too long. You’re right on both accounts—staff meetings go for an inordinate amount of time, and no, I won’t be going to the pub. But I’ve got a good excuse tonight, just as you do.’
‘I do?’
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Jeff and Reggie’s birthdays? You RSVP’d on the weekend. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already. I’m supposed to be the one with the baby brain around here!’
Spencer nodded quickly, but it wasn’t enough to fool Mia.
‘Anyone would think you had more pressing issues on your mind,’ she joked. ‘I’d be just as maxed out if I had seven weeks of long service leave looming. You’re coming though, right? You know Jeff’ll be bummed if you’re not there and he’s stuck hanging out with his parents and my mates.’
Spencer paused, biting back the question on the tip of his tongue. Mia’s friends were nice enough, but it was times like this when he regretted keeping his own friendship circle so small.
‘So just Hazel and um, Clem? Jeff hasn’t rounded up anyone else?’
‘As if you have to ask.’ Mia shot him an incredulous look.
‘You and Jeff are like Batman and Robin, Starsky and Hutch—and, when you’ve both had a few too many, Tweedledee and Tweedledum.
I’m always telling him to throw out a few more invites, heaven knows we’ve got plenty of food.
Some of the grad teachers might make an appearance though.
Jeff reeled a whopping gummy shark off the beach last weekend, it could feed the entire staffroom, and Aggie’s made those kourabiedes you love. ’
‘The little donuts with nuts on top?’
Mia made a ‘tsking’ noise. ‘You’re thinking of loukoumades. Kourabiedes are the almond shortbreads with enough icing sugar to induce diabetes.’
‘Count me in,’ Spencer said, his stomach rumbling at the thought.
But the temptation of authentic Greek desserts and ocean-fresh shark was paired with a familiar unease, and when Spencer pulled up at the Angelinos’ home with last-minute presents—a supermarket pack of Matchbox cars for Reggie and a bottle of red and chocolates for Jeff—there were only three extra cars flanking their driveway.
Nowhere to hide in such a small gathering.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway as soon as he knocked, and the door was opened by Jeff’s mum, Agatha.
‘Here’s our soon-to-be resident Romeo,’ she said, pulling him into a warm hug. ‘Fancy using your long service leave for a reality TV show! I thought Jeff was pulling my leg when he told me. The local girls must be crazy for not scooping you up already. I hope you’re hungry?’
Agatha bent down to pet Dolly, receiving a lick across the face from the beagle, then ushered them both into Jeff and Mia’s home. Spencer could smell the divine aromas of barbecuing meat, and the kitchen benches were covered in salads, colourfully wrapped presents and an enormous cake.
‘Can you believe my baby boy is nearly forty, and my grand bubba is three? Where’s the time gone?’ Agatha pressed a hand to the front of her colourful dress. ‘Here are the birthday boys now.’
Jeff came in through the patio doors followed by his young son, Reggie, and his dad, Bernard; three generations of matching jet-black hair and broad smiles.
‘Happy birthday, guys,’ Spencer said, shaking hands with the two men, then bracing himself as Reggie took a flying leap in his direction.
‘Woah, little man!’ Spencer made a show of staggering backwards.
‘You’re not so small now. Later, I’ll have to teach you the special handshake that all the cool three-year-olds are using these days. ’
Delighted, Reggie insisted on learning the handshake right away, and the moment he’d nailed the series of moves, he ran outside to show his friends, with Dolly hot on his heels.
‘I was just thinking that by the next joint birthday party, Spencer might have a plus one with him from the telly show,’ Agatha said with a smile, offering them a platter of mini quiches. ‘Most guys would dip their toes in the local dating pool first, what on earth made you apply?’
‘Figured it was high time I tried something new,’ Spencer shrugged. ‘I had a few dates within the district, but it felt weird, you know?’
Agatha’s curious smile turned to a sympathetic nod. She opened the sliding door. ‘Ah, I never thought of that. Good on you, my love, diving into the deep end is often easier than floundering in the shallows.’
‘Here’s hoping,’ Spencer said.
‘You haven’t got cold feet yet?’ Jeff asked, nudging him with an elbow.
‘Course he hasn’t. Half a dozen pretty ladies at his beck and call? He’ll be living every man’s dream,’ Bernard scoffed, offering around a plate of dolmades. ‘I’d bet my cray licence we’ll hear wedding bells before too long.’
‘Our cray licence, Dad,’ Jeff corrected, taking one of the stuffed vine leaves. ‘And that’s not a wager I’d stake my business on. Those ladies mightn’t fancy him, or vice versa.’ Jeff winked. ‘He’s a finicky bugger, our Spence.’
Spencer considered the eight ladies he’d chosen from the shortlisted applicants the month before.
When filming began in May, his first task would be meeting the contestants and whittling them down to the five who’d accompany him home.
Would one of those beautiful, talented women really want to move to the Limestone Coast full-time to be with a teacher with an agricultural side hustle, instead of the genuine farmers that normally featured on the show?
Or was this a fool’s errand that was setting everyone’s expectations way too high?
Spencer met Jeff’s amused gaze. ‘We’ll soon find out; only a few weeks to go now. I’ll probably wish I’m back in the classroom the moment the cameras start rolling.’
Jeff grinned. ‘Just do us a favour, mate, and practise your small talk while I grill the fish, so you’re not rusty as all hell when filming starts. If you’re as stiff around the contestants as you are around Mia’s friends, you’ll make an arse of yourself in no time.’
Jeff opened the patio doors and under the fairy lights that twinkled from the verandah beams Spencer spotted two other ladies with Agatha and Mia at the outdoor table. Even though he knew exactly who the brunette was, it took a moment before his brain caught on.
Just a mirage, that’s all it is.
He studied his scuffed boots until the instantaneous, completely illogical reaction had passed, overruled by reality.
You know for a fact it’s not Belle, so why the reaction Every. Damn. Time?
Clem Crossley had a little girl on her hip for one thing. She was wearing a yellow dress that was brighter than the flames in the fire pit, and when she caught his eye at the double doors, her mouth set into a grim line.
It was hard enough avoiding her in a small town like Penwarra, and completely impossible in the Angelinos’ small backyard, but he’d do his best, and make a speedy exit as soon as the birthday candles had been blown out twice and the cake was cut.
‘Don’t huddle in the doorway like that, come out and be sociable,’ Mia called from the doorway. ‘We don’t bite.’
Spencer took a long sip of the beer Jeff had handed him. An hour or two of awkwardness on his end was worth it for the friends who’d pulled him back together after his world had fallen apart. And much like the promise he’d made to Belle, he was nothing if not loyal to his loved ones.
There were worse things than being given the cold shoulder, Clem told herself, glancing over to the barbecue, where Jeff and Spencer loaded up a platter with a second serve of flake.
Spencer could be one of those creeps who stares at my cleavage, or the kind of bloke who spends all night droning on about his sporting team without even noticing he’s dominating the conversation.
Clem leaned across the glass-topped dining table, correcting Harriet’s pistol-like grip on the fork. ‘Mind your manners, Harri. And stop feeding the dog, she’ll be sick if everyone keeps slipping her food.’ The beagle was sitting at Harriet’s feet, its big eyes watching every spilled morsel.
Yep, Clem told herself, it could be heaps worse.
But still, she couldn’t help noticing that Spencer steered clear of her every time Mia and Jeff threw a party or barbecue.
It wasn’t as if she’d publicly ridiculed his decision to chase love on prime-time TV.
Maybe she would have told him how ridiculous she thought it was, if they ever ventured past stilted small talk.
She leaned an elbow on the table, deliberating between another serve of Greek salad, pickled octopus or the flake, before casting a look towards the Weber.