Chapter Twenty-One
Lucy stood on the corner of King Street and Enmore Road waiting for the pedestrian light to change to red. She was on her way up to the Enmore Theatre to meet with the director about some flyers for the upcoming production of Hamlet. The traffic roared past along the busy road to her right, and the clattering of the trains mingled with the sounds of the cars in sensory overload. She closed her eyes and opened them straightaway as someone jostled her from behind and almost pushed her into the traffic speeding past.
“Watch it,” she snapped. But the guy had his phone glued to his ear and didn’t even hear her or acknowledge her.
The traffic fumes mingled with the greasy smell of the McDonald’s were almost enough to make her feel ill. No, not ill, cross. What she would give for five minutes of silence!
For a moment Lucy closed her eyes and imagined the smell of the hay as the headers cut the grass in the paddocks at Prickle Farm.
The light changed, and Lucy stepped out with the crowd of people to hurry across the road. Horns blared and water splashed up her legs as a motorbike rider wove his bike illegally through the red light and hit a puddle as he passed her.
“Moron.” She shook her fist, trembling at the near miss and the fact that she was now soaked. She reached the footpath and turned left, heading for the theatre. As she passed the Turkish pizza place a few shops along, her stomach churned as the strong smell of garbage from the bin outside the shop reached her. She stepped out onto the road to avoid the overflow of empty cups, rolled-up papers, and pizza crusts. Another horn blared, and she jumped back onto the footpath, her irritation growing by the minute. Since she’d been away, the city had gotten filthy.
And noisy.
And smelly.
And there seemed to be many more people on the streets.
A couple of schoolgirls ran past and giggled as Lucy stood staring at the garbage on the ground.
She pulled her water bottle from her backpack and took a swig, trying to calm herself.
Lucy sighed as she turned into the foyer of the theatre. She’d been back at work three weeks and her motivation was non-existent. Seb had asked what was wrong, but she wouldn’t be led down that path.
“Just the weather,” she’d said when he told her she was looking miserable. He’d been surprised when she’d bowled into the office as soon as she came back from the farm, and he was full of excitement about his upcoming stay out west. He was sitting on the chair in her cubbyhole when she came back from the theatre and threw her bag on the bench that ran along the wall.
“Bloody traffic is horrendous today,” she muttered.
“You’re in a good mood.” He narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down. Trying to make herself feel better, Lucy had dressed in her high boots and skin-tight yellow leggings. Her pink T-shirt had a series of bright red lips all over it in various shapes and sizes.
“You look like crap, too.”
“That’s how I feel.” Lucy pushed her hair back from her face. Her fringe had grown, and she didn’t even have the motivation to make a hair appointment. “It’s just so hot and noisy and dirty here.”
“It’s no different from when you left.” Seb leaned his elbows on her desk. “Are you sure it’s not because you’re pining for Prickle Creek?”
“No.” Her voice was terse, and she scowled at Seb. “Of course I’m not.”
Seb leaned back in the chair. “I was talking to Liam last night.”
Lucy’s head flew up.
“He said you’ve barely called them since you rang to say you were back in Sydney safe and sound.”
“No need,” she said shortly.
“He said Garth was asking after you when they did some cattle work yesterday.”
“That’s nice,” she said as she booted up her laptop and turned her back to Seb.
“Aren’t you in touch with him, either? I thought you were great mates.”
“No. I’m back in Sydney and I’m busy. Gran’s quite happy the way things worked out, so I don’t need to live in their pocket. Or Garth’s. I’m back into my life now.”
Despite her best intentions, she hadn’t called Garth.
But he hadn’t called her, either.
“It would still be nice to keep in touch with them.” Seb raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t given Garth a thought since I left. Why would I?”
“Maybe because you care about each other?”
“Huh. Maybe not.” Lucy sat down and folded her arms as irritation flooded her. “But even if we did, it would never work. Can you see Garth living here in the city? Can you see me living out there in the red dust? I love this city. And there are no flies or prickles or smelly cows. It’s got everything that I want.”
“Like what?” Seb’s relentless questioning was getting to her.
“Like…like a Thai restaurant.”
“Yeah, that’s a really important thing to have in your life.”
“All right. I’ll ring tonight. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got some flyers to knock out for the theatre.”
Seb stood and put his hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happened to the advertising campaign for the lingerie firm? The photos I took of Garth?”
“They decided to go with beach shots instead.” Lucy’s voice was short. She wasn’t going to tell Seb she was glad about Caleb’s decision, because it meant that Garth wouldn’t have to come to the city. She hadn’t even cared about the failure of her campaign. That would have interfered with her getting over him. The getting over that wasn’t happening. She’d soaked her pillowcase every night as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her. She didn’t want to be at the farm, but the longer she was in Sydney, she realised she didn’t want to be here, either. Garth was a part of her, and she missed him like crazy.
He could have called to see how she was. But he hadn’t, so obviously he wasn’t missing her.
“Fair enough.” Seb turned back to her as he reached the door. “So you haven’t talked to Gran for a while?”
“No. Why?”
“She’s hoping everyone will go home for the long weekend in June.” Seb stared at her, and Lucy lifted her chin. “Jemmy and I are going. We could travel home together.”
“It’s not home.” Lucy’s voice rose. “Not for me!”
“It is for some of us, as strange as it may seem. Think about it.” Seb stared back at her. “Why don’t you come with us? I’ll take my ute instead of the bike.”
“What ute?” Lucy sniffed and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes.
“The ute I bought for when I go up there next week.” He looked at her intently. “When I go, I’m staying there for good. I’m leaving the city. Liam and I have already talked about sharing the work. I think you need to know that. He’s talking about staying on past his three months.”
Lucy shook her head with disbelief. Was everyone deserting her?
The day was long, and Lucy was busy with three new projects. Caleb was throwing a lot of work her way and was hinting at a permanent job.
On the way home, Lucy stopped at her favourite Thai restaurant just up the road from her apartment. For the first time in weeks, she was starving. Maybe she was finally getting used to being back. At least she’d lost all that country cooking weight she’d put on. She waited for her order and carried it home. As soon as she opened the door, she threw her workbag and laptop on the couch and grabbed a fork. She was ravenous and didn’t even bother with a plate.
She sat back on the sofa when she finished, feeling as though she were about to explode.
It was time to pull up her big-girl panties, concentrate on her work, and forget about Garth Mackenzie. A movie and a good night’s sleep was all she needed. Tomorrow would be a new beginning.
She might even ring Gran and think about going back to Prickle Creek Farm for the long weekend. Maybe, just maybe.
Three hours after the movie finished, Lucy lay in bed in her small bedroom in Newtown listening to the never-ceasing roar of the traffic. Where were so many people going at 3:00 a.m.? She rolled over and punched her pillow as the blare of a siren drifted through the open window. Even though she was tired, she hadn’t been able to sleep. She closed her eyes and visualised the quiet paddocks at Prickle Farm. The problem was, every time she got the quiet scene embedded into her thoughts, Garth Mackenzie strode into the picture. And then, of course, the picture moved to his house.
They’d cooked meals together, she’d hung a couple of prints that he’d not had time to put up, and she’d put some feminine touches around the place. She’d even filled his freezer with homemade goodies for him, although they would have run out by now. He was probably back on packet biscuits unless Gran had taken pity on him.
Lucy sat up and put her hands over her eyes. The last time they had spoken, after Jack had been bitten by the snake, had been an awful way to part. She needed closure, so she could move on with her life and forget about Garth. When she’d left, she’d been certain that the city was what she wanted.
And back then, all she’d wanted to do was come back to Sydney. The last three weeks had been an eye-opener for her. Why hadn’t the noise and the crowds bothered her before she went home to Prickle Creek Farm? What had happened to her out there to make her notice the frantic pace of the city now? The traffic and the noise—that she’d never noticed before—contrasted so much with the silence of the farm. She closed her eyes and longed for the serenity of the bush. How come she hadn’t noticed everyone scurrying around intent on their lives, with no time for conversation? The one time she’d tried to strike up a personal conversation with the boss, Caleb had stood there in his black jeans and T-shirt and looked at her as though she’d suddenly grown two heads.
She’d been a cow to get on with at work, and she owed Seb an apology or three for how short she’d been with him. Not only in personal conversations, but when they’d been out on a couple of photo shoots together, too. Maybe it was time she admitted to herself that she loved Prickle Creek Farm.
Almost as much as she loved Garth Mackenzie.
Lucy let a smile cross her face as she came to a decision. It was time to go home.