The House At the End of the Street by Jennie Jones

Author:Jennie Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises, Australia Pty Ltd

Twelve

‘You two get yourselves into a lot of scrapes, don’t you?’ Jess said.

Gem sighed—a pastime she’d become adept at in the last twenty-four hours—and leaned her elbow on the dining table, her chin in her hands and her fuchsia-pink cast on a cushioned chair.

‘It’s looking that way,’ she said to Jess, then swapped the telephone to her other hand as she bent to stick her finger down the opening of the cast. Her little toe had been driving her insane.

‘Everyone’s talking about it,’ Jess informed her.

‘Great,’ Gem said. Of course everyone was talking about it. ‘What was I thinking with this cast? Is everyone laughing?’

‘Not your leg. They’re talking about the kiss. You broke your ankle while kissing Josh.’

‘Not true!’ Gem said, sitting bolt upright. ‘Where did that story come from?’

‘Somebody saw you. You were kissing him behind Dad’s stock feeders’. Dad said to tell you if he’d known about it he would have sold tickets and put the money towards the new sports stand you’re always going on about.’

‘This is entirely untrue, Jess. Please spread a new rumour.’

‘Why don’t you come to Kookaburra’s and do that yourself? I can come help you down the stairs.’

‘No thanks,’ she said, not bothering to hide the misery in her tone.

‘Are you getting maudlin? It’s only a broken ankle.’

‘It’s a posterior malleolus fracture.’ It was also her current favourite swearword. Malleolus. Sounded like a real put-down. You are nothing more than a malleolus posterior. She’d have to remember to use that on Debonair if he came to town again.

She leaned her chin in her hand. How was she going to make a quick fifty grand now? Nobody in town would let her do any painting and decorating with a cast on her leg. ‘I’m going to be stuck in it for your wedding, remember.’ The wedding was just shy of six weeks away. ‘I’m going to ruin the wedding photos.’

‘We’ll prop you up against a table so you don’t need the crutches.’

‘It’s not going to go with my big poufy 1960s dress. I’m going to look like an upside-down meringue with a massive cherry on my foot.’

‘We’re going to love you just the same.’

Another sigh escaped before Gem had time to swallow it. ‘I’m really miserable, Jess.’

‘Oh, Gemma. I’ll send Josh over.’

‘No!’

Damn it. Jess had already hung up.

‘Gem, it’s me!’

Gem shifted the curtain a centimetre to peek out the window. She’d hobbled to the bedroom to put some lipstick on then hobbled back, expecting him to knock on the toy shop door. Not that she was going to let him in, but lips without lipstick were like donuts without sugar. At least, that’s the excuse she was running with.

‘I’m going to bed,’ she called. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘It’s only nine o’clock.’

‘I’m tired.’

‘Come on. Let me in. I need to apologise.’

‘You can do that tomorrow.’

‘I want to do it now!’

‘For God’s sake,’ someone called from across the street. ‘Let him in before he wakes up the kids in the next town.’

Gem winced. She pulled the curtain aside and lifted the old sash window.

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