The Hope Flower by Joy Dettman

Author:Joy Dettman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia
Published: 2021-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

the lucky dip

As with most inland towns, Willama had begun life beside a river. At the library, one wall had been given over to photographs of the past, of ladies in long skirts and teams of bullocks pulling drays, and old buildings, which for half of Nelly’s lifetime, she’d told Lori, ratepayer money had been restoring. Today, the original part of Willama may have looked much as it used to in the eighteen hundreds.

The town businesses would have considered that rate money well spent. Every motel and every caravan park was booked solid during long weekends and school holidays when Willama swarmed with tourists.

Lori looked at the blacksmith’s shed as she walked by. No blacksmith turning his charcoal red with his huge bellows today. That shed looked old and cold, as did the brothel and the barber shop. No team of horses dressed in their finery and harnessed into a coach so tourists could tour the town in style. No paddle steamer, waiting to paddle down to the bridge, turn around and paddle back. Not one of the tourist attractions was open until she was around the corner, and the only reason the souvenir shop’s windows were lit was because it doubled as a craft shop. The woman who lived above it ran classes for bored people – so she could sell them art supplies and wool and interesting fabrics to cut into pieces then stitch back together.

There were two patchwork quilts displayed in her window. One looked interesting enough to have Lori cupping her hands to the glass so she might read the price tag. She couldn’t, but it would have been big enough to choke an elephant. There were so many beautiful things that the rich could buy.

The bike shop, where Mick worked during the high tourist seasons, was a transitional shop but locked up tight today. The old dude who owned it sold classy bikes to rich locals and he hired out all manner of bikes to energetic tourists. He had an ancient penny-farthing in his window, just to prove that his shop was a part of the old town.

Wind growing colder by the minute and Lori not dressed for outdoors, she walked faster to the reject shop, which marked the end of Old Willama and the beginning of the new. It was open every weekend. She bought shampoo and deodorant there. They went through a ton of both at home and the reject shop’s prices were cheaper than the supermarkets’.

She bought three new mugs for a dollar fifty apiece. Had Eddy been with her he would have attempted to talk her into their four-dollar mugs, but in Mavis’s hands they’d last no longer.

The bottle of shampoo heavy, the mugs rattling, she walked on, the wind cutting through her sweater to her bones. She’d find something warm at the op-shop, which was usually open on Sundays. She might find something warm for Mavis, who hadn’t taken off Henry’s dressing gown since she’d put it on.

An old building in a back street, and its door was closed, probably because of the wind.

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