Chapter Six
Sebastian kept hold of Isabella’s hand as they strolled down to the local RSL club at the end of the main street. It was just like being back at school and hanging out in town. Of course, in those days, it had been her father’s milk bar that had been the hangout place, and no one had been game to hold her hand in those days, in case her dad had seen them.
Isabella groaned and rolled her eyes as she spotted her father having a cigarette out on the front lawn with a couple of his friends. Of course, he spotted straight away that Sebastian was holding her hand.
Round one to Dad. There’d be no stopping him now.
The club was surprisingly busy, and she stood next to Sebastian as he signed in as a visitor.
“I guess now that I’m a local again, I’ll have to join the club and pay my fees.”
“You really are serious about staying here now, aren’t you?” She looked at him quizzically. “What about your photographic career?”
“On hold for the time being. And yes, I have to stay here.”
“Why have to?”
Before he answered, her father walked in behind them. His smile was wide, and he winked as he walked past her into the games room.
She followed Sebastian across to the bar area, and they perched on two high stools where they could see the game of darts underway.
“Might as well give him something to look back at,” she said with a resigned sigh, after Sebastian had ordered their drinks.
“You should be happy your father wasn’t at the airport when you jumped on me.”
“Oh Dio, yes. That would have made his day. He’d have you shopping for engagement rings by now!”
“Poor man. All he wants is to have his lovely daughter home with him.”
“I know.” Isabella reached for her drink. “I do feel a bit guilty. I’m sad for him, but if he’s not happy here, or if he’s lonely here—and I know he is—it’s up to him to do something about it. The guilt trip won’t work on me. He got me home for a visit and that’s all he’s going to get.”
Sebastian looked around the club. Most of the tables were full, but he’d reserved a table in the dining room for seven o’clock for dinner for when the mob arrived. “It’s not that bad,” he said slowly. “I think the comparison you—and me, too—are making at the moment is because we’ve been living somewhere perceived as exotic by most of the population. But look,”—Isabella looked down as he reached along the bar and took her head and squeezed it—“is it really so different?”
She followed his gaze and looked around the club, conscious of the warmth of his fingers as they held hers. Young couples with small children sat in groups, chatting and laughing, just like you’d see in any Italian square. The games room was full of older men, arguing and joking over the darts game. A game of carpet bowls was under way in the far corner, and it reminded her of the old men playing bocce on the grass outside her tiny apartment in Santo Spirito. An apartment, if she was honest, that was much smaller than her father’s in Spring Downs.
She nodded slowly and looked down at their hands joined on the bar. “I get what you’re saying. I guess people are the same the world over. It doesn’t matter where you live.” She lifted her eyes to his and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. This was getting way too serious all of a sudden. She pulled her hand away and picked up her drink again. “But the bottom line is I don’t want to live here. Can you understand that?”
“Of course I can. It’s different for me, because I own a quarter share in a ten-thousand-acre property. I guess I own the cattle and the wheat, too.” She smiled as he shook his head. “I haven’t got my head around that yet. I’m still getting used to being back here.”
He lifted his beer, and she watched the muscles in his strong throat work as he swallowed. Maybe it was just as well they hadn’t met in Florence. Isabella had a feeling that she could really like Sebastian.
“So any local celebrities in here tonight?” she asked playfully.
He looked around and then leaned over, and his warm breath brushed her ear.
Not what I’m trying to do. She was altogether too aware of him already. His leg was hard up against hers as he leaned in to answer. “Promise you won’t go all fangirl on me?”
“I promise,” she said with a giggle. “Who’s here? Did you bring your camera?”
“I did.” He lowered his voice. “It’s Wally Sykes. The shire president.”
She pretended to fan herself. “Oh, be still my beating heart.”
“And to answer your question, my camera is always with me; however, I left it in the car.”
“Is it safe to do that here?”
Sebastian nodded. “Spring Downs Shire might be boring, but one of the advantages of it not being a hive of happening, means it has the lowest crime rate in New South Wales.”
Isabella couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. “A hive of happening? What is that?”
He looked a bit sheepish. “You know. Hip, trendy, and all those things, but I think the era surrounding us might understand the term ‘groovy’ a bit more.”
“The decor of the club is certainly groovy.” She gestured to the royal blue curtains that hung either side of the raised stage and then jumped to her feet as the main door of the club opened.
“Lucy. Over here,” Isabella called as she hurried over to the door. When she reached Lucy, they embraced for a moment. Isabella looked at the tall man standing behind Lucy holding a toddler. “Oh my God, Luce! I didn’t know you married Garth. You’re Lucy Mackenzie now?”
“I did and I am. It’s so good to see you, Bella.” Lucy nodded as Isabella reached up and kissed Garth’s cheek. “I remember when she used to pretend you were married and scrawled Lucy Mackenzie in hearts in all her school books.”
“Don’t give away all my secrets.” Lucy took her arm as Sebastian gestured to the dining room. “Come on. We’ve got a table booked in there. Where are the others?”
“Ned is just parking the car. They won’t be long.”
They chatted nonstop as they made their way to the dining room. Sebastian came over and waited till there was break in the conversation.
“Drinks? Lucy, wine?”
“No thanks, I’m the designated driver tonight. I’ll have a squash, please.” Lucy turned to Garth. “Here, honey, pass James to me and go and help Seb. You might as well get a couple of jugs of soft drink because the McCormack kids are on the way in.”
Isabella watched as the two men headed back to the bar and then turned back to Lucy who was looking at her curiously. Her cheeks heated as she picked up the meaning in Lucy’s expression, and she shook her head.
“We’re just friends, so don’t go getting any of your ideas. I remember what you were like, setting people up in high school. It’s bad enough that I’ve got Dad on my case.”
“I didn’t say a word,” Lucy objected. “Anyway, this is James. Say hello to Aunty Bella, James.”
The little boy was more interested in the car he held in his pudgy hand than any new adult, and Isabella leaned back in her chair with a smile. “I’m so pleased you came into town tonight. I was going to ring you tomorrow,” she said.
“We had to. There’s been a drama, but I’ll let the other girls tell you about it.”
By the time Sebastian and Garth had come back with two trays of drinks, glasses, and jugs, the others had arrived and Isabella was introduced to Angie and Ned. She didn’t remember Ned from school, and Liam had changed so much she wouldn’t have recognised him.
Angie and Jemima sat on either side of Isabella after asking Lucy to move up one place.
Once the children were settled and the noise level had decreased a few decibels, Jemima leaned in closer.
“Isabella, we have a huge, huge favour to ask you. If you don’t feel comfortable or you can’t do it, we’ll totally understand, but we’re well and truly stuck.”
“Actually desperate,” Angie said. “We’re so disappointed, but at least we haven’t lost any money.”
Isabella shook her head, bemused. “You’d better explain, because I have no idea what you mean.”
“Didn’t Seb tell you?”
She shook her head again.
Jemima rolled her eyes. “That man hasn’t changed a bit since he was a little boy. He always sits back and lets things happen.”
Isabella straightened in her chair. That was a bit unfair to Seb. The poor guy had only just arrived back in town. And besides he’d been very kind to her, and she didn’t like to hear him criticised.
Angie leaned in closer as the band on the stage began to play a jazz piece. “Do you want to go and sit at the tables outside? It’s cooled down a bit.”
“Sure. I’ll just tell Sebastian where I’m going.”
She ignored the glance that passed between them. It was only the polite thing to do. Sebastian had brought her here, and she didn’t want him to think she was leaving without him.
Five minutes later a light breeze was cooling them in the barbeque area at the back of the club, although the west-facing brick wall still held the heat from the sun. It had been a brilliantly clear day, although apart from a short stroll along the main street, Isabella had stayed out of the hot sun. She’d forgotten how dry the heat was out here in the Pilliga, and it would only get hotter before she left at the end of October. Turning up in England in the middle of autumn would be a shock after summer in Florence, and then half the down under spring in Australia. She turned to the two women opposite her.
“Okay, gals. Now tell me what this drama is and how you think I can help.”
Jemima was the first to talk. “We were all organised for the wedding.” Then she looked at Isabella. “Did Seb tell you we’re having a double wedding at Prickle Creek Farm on the last Saturday in September?”
“He mentioned it at the airport. Yes.”
“We were all organised. Celebrant, dresses, suits, kids’ outfits, and caterer.” Jemima rolled her eyes. “And then this afternoon, we got a call from the catering company. They’ve gone bust, and luckily they hadn’t cashed our deposit cheque so we were able to put a stop on it.”
“We’ve spent the whole afternoon ringing caterers, and even mobile roast vans, but everyone is booked with summer coming up,” Angie said.
Jemima reached up and pushed her hair back from her eyes as a gust of hot wind blew in from the west. “We even considered having it here at the club, but neither of us wants a reception in town.”
“We thought about changing the weekend, but then we’re getting too close to Jemmy’s due date.” Angie glanced over at Jemima’s tummy.
“So,” Isabella said with a smile. “You’re going to ask me if—”
“If you’ll cater for a wedding in Gran’s hayshed for more than a hundred guests,” Angie rushed the words out.
“I’d love to,” she said simply.
“Really?” Angie squealed and Jemima smiled.
“You’ve got yourselves a deal, and you’ve saved me from wondering what the hell I was going to do for the next few weeks.”
“Oh, Isabella that is awesome.” As the girls rushed back inside to share the news, Isabella followed slowly. Sebastian was looking at her, and she smiled as she caught his eye.
The meal was a happy occasion, and she was aware of him sitting beside her. It was the only time in the whole night that there was relative quiet. The conversations quieted and the band took a break just before the meals were served.
“When are you going to come out to the farm and check out the venue?” Sebastian pushed away his plate and leaned close to her. “You’ve really stepped in and saved the day. The girls are really happy.”
“I just hope I don’t disappoint,” she said. “I’ve always had help when I’ve done big functions in the restaurant.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. When Gran gets home, she’ll mobilise the CWA ladies. You’ll have an army of helpers. Your job is the food.” He held her eyes with his deep brown ones and a delicious little shiver ran down her back. “And I’ll have company when you’re out there getting everything ready.”
“Aren’t your grandparents coming home soon?” she asked. “I thought I heard Jemima say they would be home in the next week or so.”
The frown on his face surprised her.
“That soon?” he said and then must have thought better of it. “That’ll be nice.”
Isabella wondered why he sounded unimpressed.