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

at the same time, trying to choose words that wouldn’t detonate a fast-ticking bomb. ‘No. Of course not.’

‘Good. You and me are the ones who look after him. Don’t ever forget that.’

Except you’re hardly here and when you are you ignore him.

The resentful thought shocked her. It wasn’t Corey’s fault there wasn’t much work for him in Boolanga. Of course he had to follow the jobs, just like she had to take care of Milo.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s up to us to keep him safe.’

‘Yeah. So don’t go to that garden again.’

The pronouncement prickled like a burr and her forefinger rubbed a rough cuticle on her thumb until it stung. She valued Corey’s opinion and she understood where he was coming from. Hell, she felt uncomfortable—edgy—when the women talked in their own language. She hated not understanding what they were saying, wondering if they were talking about her.

Mind you, the bitches from Baby Time had never verbally trashed her to her face, but she’d caught some of them exchanging looks that spoke as loud as words. These strange women at the garden, who covered everything except their face and hands, had never sneered at her—not even when she hadn’t wanted to try their food. And when she’d eaten the bolanis, they’d been excited and happy. Wasn’t that being kind? And they genuinely loved Milo. Today, they’d passed him between themselves, entertaining him and giving her a break so she could do some planting. Just be Jade. For the first time in this stinking hole of a town she hadn’t felt judged. She’d felt welcomed.

Welcomed by refugees—the people she was supposed to hate. It was confusing. How did she even start to try to explain it to Corey when she didn’t understand it herself? If Corey didn’t want her to go to the garden, she shouldn’t go. But loneliness already filled so many hours in her week that just the thought of not returning cramped her stomach as bad as period pain.

Wanting to banish the ache, she grabbed his hands. ‘Let’s do something.’

‘Good idea. We can screw while the kid’s asleep.’

This was what Corey did every time he came home. He ate, they had sex and then if he didn’t go to the pub to meet Macca, they watched TV. It wasn’t like she was unfamiliar with the routine—it had been happening for a couple of years. But for reasons not entirely clear to her, today she wanted more. She wanted to feel like they were a family—like the people she saw when she walked to the park or along the river.

‘Okay, but when Milo wakes up, let’s go to Warrabeen Lagoon. You can light a fire and we can cook some snags and—’

‘I’m meeting Macca.’

‘Why?’ It came out on a whine.

His blue eyes darkened. ‘I need more lightbulbs so I can finish Cobram.’

Disappointment choked her. ‘Lightbulbs? I thought you were lamb-marking at Conargo?’

‘Doing this job for Macca first.’

Which meant he hadn’t been out of mobile range in the back-blocks of New South Wales. He would have got her texts. Known Milo was sick.

He was busy with work.

Corey put a bottle on the table. ‘I had a win on the pokies so I bought you some Jack.’

She’d have preferred cash, but soon after Milo was born she’d learned that asking for money meant she got squat. It was better to wait and receive random gifts. At least there was a black market at Tranquillity Park. ‘Thanks.’

‘Anything for you.’ He tweaked her boob and gave her a gentle push towards the bedroom. ‘Things are going great, Jade. This job’s clean and easy. I’m done by four most days.’

A whoosh of anger flared as high and fast as a lit match hitting lighter fluid, scorching her from head to toe. ‘Done by four’ meant Corey could have driven back to Boolanga one night and helped her. He could have given her a break from a constantly crying baby.

Her feet stalled just inside the bedroom door. ‘Do you love me and Milo?’

‘What sort of a dumb shit stupid question is that?’ He pulled off his shirt and shucked his pants, dropping them next to the laundry basket. ‘Would I be here if I didn’t?’

For the first time, Jade had no idea how to answer that question.

CHAPTER

10

The rain hit at five o’clock and it hadn’t let up, making it an unusually slow night at the café. That was the big difference between Melbourne and living in Sun Country—up here the locals weren’t used to heavy rain. At the first sign of precipitation, people stayed in rather than venturing out.

‘You want to take some lamb, Helen?’ Con had switched off the rotisserie and was carving the meat. ‘You could freeze it or have a party with your garden mates.’

‘Is it okay if I take the tzatziki too?’

‘Have at it. It’ll just end up in the bin. And take those six bottles of iced tea too.’

‘Thanks, Con.’

Having a hunch about the weather, Helen had harvested some lettuces and tomatoes before her shift just in case. If there was anyone at the park tonight—and it was likely, given homelessness didn’t offer the luxury of staying in on a wet night—she’d be able to provide them with a warm and healthy meal.

When she arrived at Riverbend, the rain had thankfully eased to an annoying drizzle and there were three cars in the car park. She recognised one of them and swore. It looked like things between Roxy and her adult daughter had broken down yet again.

Helen made three trips from the car before lighting the gas barbecue for both heat and to warm the pita bread. Thankful for the undercover picnic area, she spread a cloth, set the table and arranged the containers of meat and salad. Then she opened the drinks box that contained mugs, tea and coffee, hot chocolate, sugar and UHT milk.

There was also a specimen vase in the box and she added a couple of daisies for the centre of the