Flying the Nest by Rachael Johns

Author:Rachael Johns
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQ Fiction
Published: 2020-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

One of the kind men from the SES let me borrow his phone and even though it was during business hours, Adrian picked up on the second ring.

‘Hey Adrian.’

‘Ashling? Thank God. Are you okay? I could barely get the kids off to school this morning. They wanted us to drive up there and check on you.’

‘I’m fine,’ I said, feeling touched that he clearly still cared. ‘The night was a little scary—Charlie was terrified, but we made it through. Good thing I stayed at my friend Jedda’s place because—’

‘Who’s Jedda?’

‘Remember I told you about her?’ I’d mentioned the shack and Ragged Point more than once—had he actually listened to anything I’d said? ‘Jedda owns the cafe here. We’ve become good friends.’

‘Well, I’m glad you had someone to take care of you.’

I bristled at his words—I could take care of myself, thank you very much—but phone calls with my husband were few and far between and I didn’t want to ruin this one by getting into a futile argument. ‘Sadly, the shack I’ve been renovating got hit pretty hard in the storm. Half the ceiling has fallen in.’

‘Geez. What are you still doing there?’

‘I’m helping Jedda feed the volunteers at the moment—they’re all working so hard to clear up all the mess.’

‘Why don’t you come back and stay at Hayley’s?’

If he’d asked me to come home and stay with them, I’d probably have left in a heartbeat. Instead I told him I wasn’t going anywhere. ‘I get bored at Hayley’s. At least here I can be of some use. Anyway, I’ve got to go—this isn’t my phone. Tell the kids I love them, and I’ll call again as soon as I can.’

I returned the satellite phone to the man who was taking a break in the cafe and went into the kitchen to help Jedda. As we served food and drinks throughout the afternoon, locals wandered in and out, offering us reports about various places around town. Thankfully no one had been hurt, but some houses had been hit pretty badly and apparently Bill’s island had copped the brunt of it.

My ears pricked up.

‘Dan went out there this morning,’ said one man who was part of the Island Progress Association. ‘Trees have been uprooted and flotsam and jetsam is everywhere. Some of the castle walls have crumbled and water inundated Bill’s hut, soaking everything. It’s a mess.’

‘Guess that’s gunna hold up your plans to open the place to the public,’ said Jedda.

He nodded glumly. ‘We’ll have to rebuild or throw in the towel. None of us want to give up, but …’ He let out a long heavy sigh. ‘Money’s going to be the issue. We’ve been struggling enough to cobble together the fees for shire applications, insurance and everything else we needed.’

‘You’d think the Emersons would throw in some funds,’ mused another volunteer who was sipping a coffee nearby.

‘Yes, I guess Dan might ask his dad,’ replied the man, then downed the last of his drink. ‘Anyway, thanks for the cuppa, I’d better be getting back to it.

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