Ceci’s and Thom’s arrival at Castlereagh Road brought loud squealing from Ceci, good-natured grumbling from Thom, and happiness to Tash’s heart. They could communicate all they liked online, but that was no comparison to Ceci’s fierce hug, or Thom’s shy smile and eye-rolls at Ceci’s over-excitement.
After welcome drinks in the main house with her mum and dad—during which Ceci bemused everyone with her breathless horror story about almost hitting a rabbit on the drive over—and showing her guests their bedrooms, Tash led them to the flat and what proved to be a raucous night of champagne, curry and hilarious photobombing while Tash attempted to cook.
Morning brought mildly sore heads, easily cured by large quantities of coffee and Tash’s fluffy buttermilk pancakes smothered in whipped cinnamon-honey butter, followed by an invigorating stroll around the farm.
They returned to the flat for more coffee, and promises to Ceci that she’d have every opportunity to ride Khan later, once they’d finished setting up.
‘You’ll probably fall off anyway,’ Thom teased.
‘God,’ said Tash clutching her head and thinking of Maddy. ‘Don’t say that.’
Ceci screwed her nose up at Thom and turned aside to blow a puff of cigarette smoke out into the pristine morning. Aside from the cigarette, Ceci looked gorgeous in a rich scarlet silk shirt, skinny jeans and embroidered tan cowgirl boots with matching belt. Her platinum hair was blow-dried and tempered with product to shiny precision, her make-up model-perfect. Clearly she didn’t plan on doing much dirty work.
Unlike Tash, who was intent at her bench on the fiddly task of picking meat from the blue swimmer crabs she’d blanched earlier. She’d risen just after dawn to tidy the last of the previous night’s mess and prepare breakfast, and with more party preparation and cooking, she didn’t think it was worthwhile showering until later, which left her with bed hair, crab-juice-stained work clothes, and a general feeling of grubbiness compared to Ceci’s dazzling perfection.
Thom was perched on a stool on the other side, tooling with Tash’s laptop and making security tweaks to her website. ‘You’ve let this go a bit.’
‘I know,’ said Tash, manipulating a hooked crab fork into the crustacean’s tight chambers and pulling out a flake of sweet white flesh. ‘With everything else it keeps slipping my mind.’
‘Don’t let it. Make a schedule.’ Thom’s eyes rolled as Ceci’s phone went again. ‘Does the bloke ever stop?’
Ceci poked her tongue out and wandered out to the garden to answer. Thom had a point. The night before the text messages had been non-stop. This morning it was phone calls.
Not long ago Tash would have been burning with jealousy over Brandon’s adoration of Ceci, but other than a wistful longing for someone who cared for her as much, she no longer seemed to mind. Although she did wish her friend wouldn’t be so dismissive of her boyfriend’s attentions. It didn’t seem charitable or fair.
But life wasn’t always fair and love definitely wasn’t. She only had to consider Patrick’s situation to see that.
Tash hoped he was okay. He’d been in a terrible state the day before but a rest and food had helped, and by the time he’d left she felt confident she’d made a bit of a difference. That he could come to her whenever he needed, without judgement.
She snuck a peek at Thom. He was dressed in his usual designer-scruffy fare but had swapped his hipster bushranger beard for a more tightly cropped manscaped version. Though Tash had never remarked on it, the wiry russet bush hadn’t suited him. This defined, softly coloured version did, bringing better definition to his chin and highlighting his gentle mouth. She’d enjoyed that mouth during their one-night stand but looking at Thom now she couldn’t help comparing him to Patrick, which was unjust. Patrick, like Ceci, was one of the world’s beautiful people, whereas Thom was like herself—his attractiveness came from within. Besides, no matter how good-looking he was, Patrick’s life was hardly to be envied.
With the food readied as much as possible, Tash and Thom spent a cheerful few hours setting up, while Ceci supervised, filmed and photographed, in between messaging Brandon. Thom helped Tash load the ute with half a dozen bales of hay, which they stacked on the terrace and topped with an old timber door salvaged from the rubbish pile behind the machinery shed. With the wind low, and forecast to stay that way, Tash passed Ceci a box of supplies and left her in charge of table decorations while she and Thom used her dad’s air compressor to fill the multicoloured inflatable stools Ceci had brought from Melbourne.
Finally, after they’d washed the dust from their throats with homemade lemonade, Tash clapped her hands together. ‘Shall we go horse-riding?’
When Khan was saddled and Ceci had received her instructions, Tash handed her a helmet.
Ceci regarded it with horror. ‘I can’t wear that!’
‘You have to. It’s for your own safety.’
‘Absolutely not.’ She touched her hair protectively. ‘This took me ages. I can’t ruin it with a hat.’
Tash sighed and dropped the helmet. She’d only be leading Ceci around at a walk anyway and she knew her friend well enough to recognise that stubborn chin thrust.
She gave Ceci a leg-up. Checking the length, Tash adjusted the stirrups a notch and helped Ceci place her feet properly. She handed over the reins. ‘Just hold them lightly. His mouth is soft and you don’t want to hurt him by pulling on it. I’ll do the steering. If you need something to hold on to, grab the pommel,’ she tapped the raised front of the saddle, ‘or grab a hunk of mane.’
With another double check to ensure Ceci was sitting properly and relaxed, Tash clipped a lead to Khan’s bit and clicked her teeth to signal walk-on. Thom remained at the fence, alternating between filming with the action camera and Tash’s phone, and snapping the occasional shot on Ceci’s phone.
Tash tickled Khan’s chin while she led. He was being a gentleman as always, walking with dutiful calm, blinking sweetly in the sun and chewing his bit. It was a gorgeous day, promising a fine evening ahead. Rather than cook, when they finished riding Tash planned to take Thom and Ceci on a tourist drive into Emu Springs, followed by lunch at the Commercial Hotel then a visit to Pa’s to cut jasmine and crop a last-minute supply of salad leaves and herbs. It was a long way off, but come spring Tash expected to be doing the same with her own garden. She’d organise another party to celebrate, perhaps book a local singer. By then she’d have an outdoor oven, maybe even a fire pit. She could spit-roast lamb and Argentine-style beef short ribs, and suckling pig with crunchy crackling. She might even have a couple of little pigs of her own by then.
Tash was so lost in her thoughts she failed to notice that a vehicle had pulled into the farm until it was too late. Her heart bounced high into her throat. She snatched at Ceci’s leg as Patrick’s ute veered away from the flat and speared straight for Khan’s paddock. ‘Quick. Get down.’
‘What for? We haven’t finished filming.’
‘Please, Ceci.’
Ceci narrowed her eyes at the rapidly approaching vehicle. ‘Who’s that?’
Tash tugged even harder on her leg. ‘Someone who’s going to kill me if you don’t get down.’
‘Why?’
Too late. Patrick was already through the fence and striding towards them. Thom had the camera up, filming everything.
In seconds Patrick’s face was in hers. ‘Are you crazy?’
‘Oh, wow,’ said Ceci, openly ogling Patrick. He was, Tash had to admit, looking stupidly sexy in jeans and a white polo shirt that hugged his chest and showed off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Whatever. He was in his butthead mood and while Ceci clearly found it attractive, Tash didn’t.
She tried to keep her tone cool but it still emerged annoyingly defensive. ‘I was only leading him.’
‘It doesn’t matter, and you know it.’ He regarded Ceci, who stared back at him in that wide-eyed manner she reserved for attractive men. ‘If you’re not wearing a hat, you’ll have to get down.’
Her fawn eyes turned pleading. ‘But we were only going slow.’
Tash signalled Thom to stop filming. She didn’t want to risk this ending up on the internet, accidentally or otherwise.
‘Makes no difference,’ said Patrick. ‘Farm insurance.’
Tash snorted. Farm insurance like hell.
Ceci inspected the ground either side of Khan and pouted. ‘I’m not sure I can. It’s a very long way.’
‘Here,’ said Patrick, holding up his arms. ‘Kick your leg over the saddle and slide into my arms.’
Ceci obeyed, her hands lingering on Patrick’s shoulders far longer than needed.
‘This is Ceci Knowles,’ said Tash.
Patrick nodded. ‘I’ve seen you in a few videos.’
‘Oh, how nice.’ Her silk shirt shot waves of colour as she fluttered fingers to her open collar, pushing it just far enough across to show more perfect skin and a hint of black lace bra.
‘And this is my old neighbour, Thom Whitfield,’ said Tash, resisting the urge to slap Ceci’s hand.
Thom accepted Patrick’s shake with a friendly ‘g’day’, only for his smile to falter at the strength of Patrick’s grip.
‘Do you live around here, Patrick?’ asked Ceci, her husky Marilyn Monroe purr raising Tash’s hackles. She already had Brandon. Flirting with Patrick was being plain greedy.
‘Two farms along.’
‘Funny, Tash never mentioned you.’ She planted a pointed look on Tash. ‘At all.’
‘I have. Patrick is Maddy’s fiancé.’ Tash put careful emphasis on the fiancé part. ‘Maddy who owns Khan, remember? I explained all that last night.’
‘Did you? I can’t remember. Unless you told Thom after I went to bed? You two were having quite a discussion, if I recall.’
Khan shuffled as Tash tightened her grip on his reins and accidentally dragged on his bit. She stroked his silky neck in apology, face burning. Yes, she and Thom had stayed up but they’d been locked in a business discussion. Nothing like Ceci was making it sound. Ceci had been too loaded on sauvignon blanc to know what they were talking about anyway.
‘About Tash’s website,’ said Thom. ‘Which is why you went to bed. You couldn’t stand the geek talk.’
‘Oh. Yes. That’s right.’ She beamed at Patrick. ‘Those two can be so dull when they get together.’
‘I bet,’ said Patrick, eyeing Thom.
‘So,’ said Tash over-brightly, ‘seeing as we’re done here, we should probably get ready for town. Why don’t you two head off while I sort Khan? I’m sure you have make-up to repair, Ceci.’
‘Oh, I’m fine the way I am.’
Sneaking a wink at Tash, Thom slung an arm around Ceci’s shoulders and murmured something in her ear. The high-beam smile suddenly developed an edge of brittleness.
‘You’re right. We probably should tidy up a bit.’ Ceci undraped Thom’s arm and poked his sternum. ‘You definitely need it.’ She threw a last fluttery-lashed look at Patrick. ‘Will we see you tonight?’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘Lovely. I can’t wait to hear all about your life on the farm. All this fresh air is so …’ She raked her gaze over his chest and arms. ‘… energising.’
Thom lifted his eyes heavenward in a god-help-me look, before dragging her arm and frogmarching Ceci off.
‘Is everything okay?’ asked Tash when Ceci and Thom were out of earshot.
Patrick kept watching them. ‘You shouldn’t have let her ride without a helmet.’
‘I tried to get her to wear one, believe me, but she didn’t want to wreck her hair.’ Tash felt the need to defend how stupid that sounded. ‘She models part-time. Things like that matter to her.’
‘Still no excuse.’ Finally, he looked at her. ‘I saw your Facebook photos. Looked like you had a good time last night.’
‘We did,’ said Tash slowly, trying to figure out what was in his expression. ‘Ceci more than Thom and me. We stopped drinking after dinner. She kept on. Not that you’d know it.’
‘She’s very pretty. Thom’s a bit …’ He hesitated. ‘… urban. He does websites?’
‘Programs code for big corporations mostly,’ said Tash, leading Khan to the fence. ‘He helps with my site when I ask. He’s very good.’ She handed the lead deliberately to Patrick. To her surprise he accepted it. Perhaps he was getting over his hatred of the horse. Tash could only hope.
‘And he was your neighbour in Melbourne?’
‘Yep.’ She’d already said that. Obviously he’d been too distracted by Ceci to listen. Typical. Tash tried not to feel moody about it as she ran the stirrups up their leathers and unbuckled the girth. She lifted the saddle and blanket off and balanced them on the strainer rail, then picked up a brush from Khan’s bucket and began to work his sweat marks.
‘So he and Ceci are an item, are they?’
‘Hardly. Despite appearances, Ceci has a boyfriend who’s crazy about her.’
When Patrick made no further comment, Tash watched him from over her shoulder. He definitely looked better than he had the day before. Almost too much better. The white shirt brought out the blue in his eyes, brighter now he’d managed some sleep. Something was up though, the way he kept threading the flat nylon lead back and forth through his fist.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah.’ Looking down, he scuffed a boot through the long grass. ‘I brought you a present. As thanks for yesterday.’
‘Patrick, we’re friends, you don’t have to thank me with presents.’ Even so, the idea he’d considered her brought a pleasant buzz to her insides.
‘I wanted to.’ He nodded towards his car. ‘It’s in the ute.’
She finished up with Khan, patting him fondly as she set him loose. Patrick held the fencing wires open for her and Tash wished she didn’t feel self-conscious about the size of her bum as she climbed through. Hard not to when Ceci was around, wiggling her boy hips and flat stomach. Without asking, Patrick hooked the saddle over one arm and collected the bucket with the other, leaving Tash with only Khan’s bridle and lead. It was so natural she could only guess he’d done it a thousand times with Maddy.
A large shiny-leafed plant was secured with octopus straps to the back of the ute behind the passenger side. Tash grinned and pressed her hands to her mouth. She reached out to fondle the dangling bright fruit, and gazed at Patrick with delight.
‘You bought me a lemon tree.’
‘Not lemon. Mum said Liz already had one. It’s a lemonade tree.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Lemonade? Oh!’ Tash’s mind raced with thoughts of marmalade and butters and cakes and dozens of other dishes. ‘Thank you.’ She eased up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, but instead caught part of his mouth. She backed off quickly. Flustered, she concentrated on the tree, touching fruit, branches and leaves, as if it were a pet in need of attention. ‘Thank you so much.’
For an awkward moment neither spoke, then their words were colliding in the air.
‘What time …’
‘I guess I should …’
Tash smiled. ‘You go first.’
He lifted the saddle. ‘Where do you want this?’
‘Here,’ she held out her arms, ‘let me take it.’
‘I can look after it.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Not like I haven’t done it before.’
Tash indicated the garden shed, where she’d cleared a small space for Khan’s tack and brushes, and a bag of second-grade carrots she’d bought from the local produce store as a horse treat. Tack stowed, they returned to the ute. After releasing the straps, Patrick slid the tree along the tray to the rear and lowered the tailgate. She braced to help lift it down but Patrick hoisted the entire pot himself, muscles bulging with the effort. Tash had to force herself not to gawp.
‘Where to?’
She led him to the terrace and pointed to a sunny spot at the end of the pavers. The pot in place, Patrick planted his hands on his hips and regarded the transformed yard. Glittery pale purple inflatable stools occupied random spaces, popping up like psychedelic mushrooms. The makeshift trestle table was covered in floor-length white satin, small lilac bows gathering the cloth at the base of each corner to form a puffy skirt. Jars of water helped hold the cloth in place, ready for loading with jasmine and purple-blue hydrangeas from the garden. Fairy lights draped from the eaves and lattice tops.
He nodded in approval. ‘That’s quite a change. Looks good.’
‘Thanks. It’ll look even better once the sun goes down and the lights come on. Oh,’ she said in dismay, ‘your shirt.’ Unthinking, Tash began brushing his chest where the pot had leaked damp soil and left dirty streaks down his front. With every swipe the damage worsened but for some dumb reason she couldn’t stop. She moaned in despair.
Snatching her flailing hands, Patrick held them together between his own. ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’
Tash wanted to wail from embarrassment. He’d brought her a present and she’d spoiled it. ‘Your shirt is ruined.’
‘Tash,’ he said, ducking to catch her eye, ‘it’s okay, I promise. Mum has soaker stuff at home. Bit of that and it’ll be as good as new.’
‘But it looked so nice. You’ve been so nice.’
‘Not that nice. I did yell, remember? I think you mentioned that makes me a butthead.’
She managed a weak smile. ‘You made up for it.’
Patrick still had hold of her hands. Tash glanced at them, wishing his touch didn’t feel so good. She moved her arms a fraction, and immediately Patrick let go.
His attention shifted to behind her. ‘Your friends are back.’
Tash’s shoulders sagged when she saw the length of Ceci’s denim mini skirt. Thom had changed into jeans even skinnier than Ceci’s had been, braces, and one of his hipster checked shirts. Compared to Patrick’s easy masculinity, it looked more than a little foolish.
Although not as foolish as her, standing with her fingers still tingling from Patrick’s touch and the memory of his firm chest under her hand and the softly yielding corner of his mouth as she’d kissed him thanks. Not only that, she had yet to shower and stank of crab juice, sweat, dust and horse. In this state she wouldn’t even be able to pull a legless Thom let alone someone like Patrick.
‘Are you going like that?’ asked Ceci.
‘Don’t be a bitch,’ said Thom. ‘Tash looks fine. The smell though …’ He grinned and winked to show he was joking but it only made her feel more self-conscious. She stepped subtly aside from Patrick and jammed her arms close to her sides to prevent any odour escaping.
‘You smell fine,’ said Patrick, throwing Thom a look that had him quickly dropping the jokey grin.
‘I really should shower,’ said Tash. ‘Thanks for the present. That was kind.’
‘You brought Tash a present?’ asked Ceci, attention flicking between Tash and Patrick.
‘I did. A lemonade tree.’
‘Well chosen,’ said Ceci, drawing the words out and watching Patrick closely. ‘Tash loves plants.’
She could feel Patrick’s gaze but she was too concerned about her dirty-smelliness to meet it.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘That’s why I bought it.’ He addressed Tash, his tone quieter. ‘If you need a hand this arvo, let me know, I’d be happy to help. Otherwise I’ll see you tonight.’ He nodded at Ceci and Thom. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’
He strode around the side of the flat without looking back, as one pair of eyes locked unhappily on his back, while the other two pairs appreciatively watched his denim-clad rear.
‘I think,’ said Ceci slowly, ‘I might have to move to the country. That man is smokin’.’
‘He’s engaged,’ snapped Tash.
‘And you have a boyfriend,’ said Thom equally snippily.
But Ceci was already sauntering off, phone in one hand, unlit cigarette in the other, and a sly smile quirking her pouty scarlet mouth.