A Home Like Ours Fiona Lowe (good novels to read .txt) 📖

minding him today anyway, she took him for a walk. The pink and violet dawn spun light on the river track and the wheeling screech of galahs drowned out the frog serenade.

‘Bird.’ Helen pointed to a magpie on a branch. ‘Can you say bird?’

She’d discovered she got a ridiculous burst of excitement each time Milo said or did something new. She’d loved Nicki, but with Milo racing through the milestones, she’d realised exactly how much Nicki’s disabilities had stolen from them both.

She’d offered to mind Milo when Jade asked Bob to drive her to Shepparton to talk to a careers counsellor. Helen was disappointed Jade had asked Bob and not her, but she was tempering her reaction with quiet relief. In the middle of chaos, Jade had emerged from her blue funk no longer resisting the idea of study. This was the first step.

From the first time Helen had met Jade, the younger woman had presented with a mix of determination, dry humour and a pinch of protective pugnaciousness. Tuesday morning had shattered her don’t-mess-with-me veneer, exposing how young and in need of support she was. This version of Jade worried Helen.

Each time Lachlan visited, Jade retreated to her room so he’d spent more time with Milo than with her. Helen had been about to broach the subject of Jade talking to someone when Constable Fiora had knocked on the door. Macca had resurfaced in town, with an alibi in Deniliquin to account for his whereabouts. Given the bloke who said he’d been with Macca the whole time had a history of petty crime, it wasn’t strong. Macca had told the police he hadn’t seen Corey in weeks, not since he’d ‘gone to see a bloke about a job’. As the tyre prints on the nature strip didn’t match Macca’s ute, all the police could do was remind him of the intervention order. The offensive texts stopped.

A day later, Jade had announced she wanted to be a florist and asked Bob to drive her to the TAFE in Shepparton. Helen hadn’t been able to completely hide her disappointment about floristry. Not that she didn’t value the joy florists gave to people, but Jade didn’t have support to start her own business and working as an assistant to a florist was a low-paid casual job unlikely to lift her out of poverty.

Helen cut up from the river track to the community garden, giving herself a workout pushing Milo’s pram up the rise, and unlocked the gate. As she stooped to pick some strawberries for breakfast, her hips protested. Now things had finally settled down, and with Corey hunkered down somewhere for the foreseeable future, it was time to get back to her usual yoga routine. Time to get back to normal. She supposed that included changing the locks and moving back to Serenity Street. The thought didn’t fill her with enthusiasm—life in a larger house was far more pleasant.

Just admit it’s Bob’s company.

Apprehension twisted on a helix. If she admitted that, where did it leave her? She didn’t want to examine it too closely. She was closer to sixty than fifty and she hadn’t been on a date, let alone had sex, in twenty years. Just the thought of either sent her blood pressure soaring. The fact she couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing made it spike even higher.

She firmly reminded herself that she and Bob were good friends. Nothing needed to change. It couldn’t change—she’d lived on her own for too long and it was safer that way.

Except you’re not living on your own, are you?

That’s just temporary.

That thought didn’t reassure her either.

She gave Milo a strawberry, bagged the rest and stowed them under the pram. The promise of a hot day was already delivering in the warmth of the newly risen sun. As she pushed Milo out through the main gates onto Riverfarm Road, she saw Judith and Sharon in their exercise gear, standing chatting on the street. They appeared to be looking past her, which suited Helen—chatting to Judith was at the top of her list of things not to do before she died.

The low vibrating grunt of a diesel engine sounded behind them and she turned. A huge Kenworth truck lumbered slowly down the road.

‘Oh, look, Milo. It’s got a big digger on it.’

Milo’s bright eyes rounded into blue discs of wonder and when the truck finally passed, he cried out in disappointment. Helen swung the pram around so he could keep watching it until it turned right into Mill Street on its way to the highway.

‘Wuck!’ Milo clapped.

Suddenly there was the long hiss of air brakes and a flash of tail-lights. Milo squealed, startled by the sound.

‘It’s okay. The truck’s just resting.’

Except it started moving again, this time turning slowly, its wheels carefully manoeuvring onto the driveway that led down to the cottage.

Unease pulsed through her and she forced herself to speak to Judith. ‘Do you know what’s going on?’

Judith gave her a feline smile. ‘I can take an educated guess.’

Helen gritted her teeth. ‘And what would that be?’

‘Excavators usually dig.’

The truck was disappearing down the drive. Helen didn’t waste any more time with gloating Judith. She half walked, half jogged past the women and bounced the pram through the orchard, trying to reach the garden beds before the truck. But it didn’t pull off into the garden—it continued down towards the river.

Helen reached the cottage just as the driver swung out of the cab. Panting, she took a moment so she sounded calm and conversational instead of frantic and frazzled. Milo jabbered enthusiastically, pointing to the truck. It gave her an idea.

‘My grandson loves any sort of heavy equipment.’

‘Mine too.’ The driver pulled on a high-vis vest over his blue singlet.

‘That’s an excavator, right?’

‘Yep.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

He slammed the truck door closed and tapped the signage on the door. Moore Demolitions Corowa NSW.

Something spasmed inside her. ‘You’re demolishing the cottage?’

‘And flattening that lot.’ He indicated the garden beds.

‘What about the