Girl Meets Girl Collection by Cheyenne Blue

Author:Cheyenne Blue
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ylva Publishing
Published: 2019-03-14T17:21:11+00:00

Ken originally said he’d be gone for a year “more or less.” The last time I’d heard from him, he was up in northwest Western Australia, wondering if his motorhome would cope with some of the dirt roads that led to the more interesting places. That was still thousands of kilometres from Mungabilly Creek. I hadn’t asked him for any sort of return date yet, simply because, as far as I was concerned, the longer away, the better. Between Moni’s visa uncertainties and my work situation, any advance planning was simply too difficult.

It seemed we weren’t the only ones procrastinating. A couple of my clients’ claims were stagnating—mainly due to the obstreperousness and inaction of big city lawyers retained by big city insurance companies. I spent a lot of time talking to voicemails and assistants without ever getting any sort of response.

The lethargy even affected Mrs T. She had indeed emailed Rosalie Thatcher, and after several emails and a couple of phone calls, she went to visit her old friend.

I was with a client when she returned, and it was the whistle of the kettle and an occasional snatch of song that told me she was back. My client took forever to leave, but finally she did. I leapt from my chair and then slowed to saunter into the kitchen as if I wasn’t dying to hear how the visit went.

Mrs T turned when I came in. She looked happy to see me, so I figured the trip must have gone reasonably well. I sat at the table. “No more clients today. Got time for a cuppa?”

“Maybe.” Mrs T reached for the tea bags. “I can’t stay too long today. Phyllis wants me to help her go through the recipes submitted for the CWA cookbook.”

“There’s a cake from the CWA in the tin. A lemon cake that Justine made. It’s pretty good—I hope she submitted that recipe.”

“That girl’s coming along nicely,” Mrs T said in approval. She poured the boiling water on the teabags and brought two mugs over to the table. “But you don’t want to talk about Justine, do you?”

“Well…”

“I had a good week with Rosalie. She’s by herself now. Kids are grown and moved away. It was a little difficult at first. Didn’t know what to say to her, nor her to me. After all, it’s been over thirty years. Then we went for a walk, and when we didn’t have to look at each other across a table, we were back to how we’d been as girls. Did we laugh! After that, we didn’t shut up. Caught up, and kept going.” She looked relaxed and happy.

“That’s great. Are you going to stay in contact?”

“I reckon.” She stirred her tea around and around as if gathering her thoughts with the spoon. “But we’re friends now. Only friends. Don’t you go thinking different. I know what’s in your head.”

I made my non-committal listening face, the one that worked so well on clients.

Apparently it didn’t work on Mrs T. “Don’t give me that look.

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