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They’d probably been drawn in on their walk back due to the absence of splintering timber and crushing metal.

‘Seriously, Helen, you’re staging a sit-in?’ Judith scoffed. ‘You’ll just get sore hips. Nothing will save this sorry excuse of a garden.’

Given the garden was thriving, Helen considered asking if she needed her eyes tested. Instead she said, ‘What did life do to you to make you so bitter and vindictive?’

Judith’s mouth pursed. ‘Unlike you, Helen, I have a long history in this town. It’s a place where rules are valued. All our members spend time on a waiting list to get their plot. Those people are queue-jumpers.’

Helen’s ire rumbled and flared. Judith was a founding member so she hadn’t spent any time on a waiting list, but ‘those people are queue-jumpers’ meant they were no longer talking about the garden.

‘Those people are women. Some witnessed loved ones being murdered. Racial and religious persecution is why they fled their country and spent years in refugee camps in Pakistan waiting their turn. They came here legally, but even if they hadn’t, I’d still give them a plot.’

Judith snorted. ‘Well, there’s a surprise.’

‘And you know why? Because it’s impossible to apply for a garden bed when you’re in a country that has not only banned gardens, but banned embassies from countries with gardens. So you risk your life to get to a country with a garden where you can plant, grow and harvest. Where you can live the life we take for granted. But when you arrive, you’re told that because you couldn’t apply before you came, you’re at the very bottom of a long waiting list that never moves. You’re in limbo, belonging nowhere. Your internal garden of hope and faith withers. One day you’re told there will never be a garden bed for you. Go back to the country that tortured and raped you and murdered your family. No human being deserves that.

‘These women came here legally and this garden has given them a place to belong. A way of connecting with Boolanga. You’re quoted in The Standard as saying they need to adapt to Boolanga’s ways of life. Well, guess what? Having your own patch of dirt and growing some vegies is quintessentially Australian. No matter our philosophical differences, Judith, I’ve always respected you as a gardener. How can you get excited at the prospect of watching all these healthy plants being wantonly destroyed?’

Judith stood rigid and unusually silent, although Helen was almost certain it was more to do with momentary concern for the plants, not the women.

‘And by the way,’ she finished, ‘the orchard’s going too.’

Sharon gasped.

Judith shook her head. ‘Don’t add lying to your list of sins, Helen. The only thing being destroyed today is your garden.’

‘Why does she sound like she knew this was going to happen?’ Bob said quietly. ‘It’s like she was planning to be here.’

‘And you once said she wielded no power outside the cyclone fence,’ Helen said sotto voce.

‘Everyone’s allowed one mistake.’

He nudged her shoulder and she laughed, not quite believing it was possible in the middle of this mess.

‘Judith, who told you about the garden being ploughed under?’ she asked.

‘None of your business.’

‘Well, whoever it is hasn’t told you the full story. I’ve seen the demolition order and it clearly states everything between the community garden and the road’s to be flattened.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Judith said. But she was already pulling out her phone and dragging Sharon up the hill.

CHAPTER

42

Helen’s stomach rumbled. ‘I hope Tara and Fiza are back soon with food or my lie about being dizzy will be the truth.’

‘Can’t have that.’ Bob dug into his pocket and produced a tin of mints.

As Helen popped two in her mouth, a little red Mazda drove in. Vivian must have seen the Facebook Live and come straight down.

‘Helen, what on earth’s going on?’

‘This is our Current Affair moment, Vivian. Today we nail the mayor and his cronies good and proper.’

‘Vivian!’ Judith made a beeline for her. ‘Are the other councillors coming?’

Vivian smiled her polite politician’s smile. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute, Judith. I’m just having a private chat.’

‘Yeah, Judith. No queue-jumping. Get in line,’ Jade said, grinning as she filmed.

Vivian held up her hand. ‘Young lady, unless you want to jeopardise everything Helen and I have been working towards, stop filming now. Helen’s already risked more than she knows.’

‘Didn’t you see the excavator?’ Helen asked.

‘The orchard is heritage-listed,’ Judith called out. ‘It’s the envy of community gardens everywhere. Helen says it’s being bulldozed and I need to know it’s safe. I demand Helen shows me the demolition notice.’

A long sigh rolled out of Vivian and she held out her hand. ‘Obviously we’re not going to be able to talk until Judith has her question answered.’

‘Don’t.’ Bob said it so quietly Helen almost didn’t hear it. But even if she’d missed it, she knew instinctively that handing over the clipboard was a bad idea.

She leaned around Vivian and called out, ‘Judith, you’ve known Bob for years and you trust him, don’t you?’

Judith’s eyes narrowed as if Helen had just set a trap.

‘Helen, is this really necessary?’ Vivian asked.

‘Judith, you and Pen were in CWA together for years.’ Bob put his hand on his heart. ‘On Pen’s grave I swear I will read the words exactly as they’re written.’

‘I’m holding you to that, Bob Murphy.’

As Bob looked straight at Judith and read the demolition notice, Helen checked her phone. One missed call and one text. Please call Jessica Szabó WIN News. She forwarded it to Jade’s and Bob’s phones so Jade could respond.

‘… all structures, all trees, flatten the site and remove the debris,’ Bob finished.

‘That’s outrageous!’ Vivian said.

Judith ran at Vivian like a bull storming a red cloth, shaking her fists. ‘I told all of you it was just the garden I wanted destroyed.’

Vivian’s tolerant expression hardened. ‘And I’ve told you repeatedly that this garden is an important part of our community and it stays. If you don’t stop threatening

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