A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe

A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe

Author:Fiona Lowe [Lowe, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQ Fiction
Published: 2021-02-02T22:00:00+00:00


On her way home, Helen dropped into Boolanga Signs and asked for a quote to have the shire’s logo added to the sponsorship sign. The figure Len came up with astonished her.

‘Good God. How can it possibly cost that much?’

Len’s chest puffed out. ‘I can’t just paint it on.’

‘Why not?’

‘With our heat, it’ll peel off in no time.’

Helen thought it peeling off fast might be a good option.

Len pointed to a sign on the wall. ‘Something like that will do the job and last for years.’

Helen glanced around the shop; it was full of examples. Most were shire signs, but there was one for Ainslea Park and another for Geoff Rayson’s accounting firm.

‘You seem to do a bit of work for the shire,’ she said. ‘You must be more competitive than Sign On.’

‘I like to think so.’

She turned back to the counter and noticed a photograph of a rowing crew holding a trophy aloft. ‘Is that you and Geoff Rayson?’

Len laughed. ‘Back in our glory days when we were younger and lighter. Mind you, we rowed in the inaugural Boolanga Business Regatta last year and came third.’

‘Not too shabby.’ She picked up the printed quote. ‘Thanks for this. I’ll check in with Sign On and get back to you.’

‘Ah, Helen …’ Len leaned over the counter. ‘I’m the shire’s approved sign-writer so if you use someone else, Finance might not reimburse you. I wouldn’t want you or the garden to be out of pocket.’

‘Right.’

Except not a lot about the information seemed right at all. Helen’s mind churned on the walk back to the cottage.

As she opened the gate, she heard Milo’s cries. A rush of goosebumps raised her skin and she rubbed her arms, hoping Kubra, Aima or Baseera were about. They adored Milo and often gave Jade a hand.

But when Helen came out from behind the trees, Jade was standing next to her garden bed, jiggling Milo in her arms. The rest of the garden was empty.

Plants in pots were positioned across the freshly raked bed, marking their future place in the soil. One plant lay on the ground, already out of its pot.

Helen couldn’t stop herself. ‘The roots will dry out.’

Jade rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, boomer.’

‘What?’

‘You’re stating the obvious. I know it’s drying out, but Milo was screaming blue murder. I don’t need child protection breathing down my neck on top of all the other crap!’

Self-reproach stung Helen into action and she bent down to pick up the plant. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘No!’ Jade blinked rapidly. ‘I mean, no, thank you. Can you hold Milo instead? He hasn’t stopped crying all day.’

Helen stood slowly and met the baby’s blue-grey eyes. He looked at her pensively as if he knew she’d inevitably disappoint him. Judging her with unspoken words—you didn’t do a very good job last time.

Every part of her screamed no. ‘I don’t do—’

‘Please.’

Anguish carried on the plea and Helen took a closer look at Jade. Black smudges—not mascara—coloured the skin under her eyes. Her hair was greasy, pulled



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