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

irony wasn’t lost on Jade that Helen losing the cottage was the answer to her holding onto the unit, even if it did mean a massive reorganisation. Milo’s cot was now in Jade’s room and she’d stowed his clothes in storage bins under her bed. As long as she kept things tidy she had a narrow but clear path between her bed and the door. Milo didn’t seem bothered by the move and he’d gone down for his nap without any fuss.

Today, Saturday, Bob and Lachlan had loaded their utes with Helen’s stuff and been ferrying boxes all morning. Helen had accepted Bob’s offer to store some of her furniture and Jade had offered to swap couches. She’d felt bad when Bob insisted he take her old couch to his shed and was disappointed she couldn’t tag along. For weeks, Bob had been producing things from his shed and she’d built it up in her mind as a mysterious treasure trove. She wanted to see exactly what was in it and hear the stories behind each item. Mostly she wanted to watch Bob tinkering at his workbench and see the tools he’d used to make Milo’s trolley and her earrings.

Jade was creating room for Helen in some kitchen cupboards when Lachlan walked out of the laundry. He was wearing old green shorts, a black T-shirt that said Boolanga Bards on the front and Urinetown on the back along with a list of names. Apparently it was a musical. Who knew? What she did know was that the soft cotton shirt was too small for him, clinging to his shoulders and flat stomach like a second skin. It made her look, then look away and wish he was wearing his work clothes.

But right now it wasn’t the T-shirt that was racing tingles along her skin and heating her cheeks. It was the way he was holding a large silver shifter. Her attraction flipped into overdrive.

‘The washing machine’s good to go,’ he said. ‘I saw you had a load in the basket so I put it on. Should be ready to peg out in about fifty minutes.’

‘You know how to use a washing machine?’

His face creased into easy laugh lines. ‘You think my work clothes get washed by magic or by Dame Washalot?’

‘You know The Magic Faraway Tree?’ It had been the only children’s book at her grandmother’s house.

‘It was one of Auntie Pen’s favourites. Uncle Bob built her a shelf so she could store her favourite childhood books. He decorated it with characters from Peter Pan and it was in the room my sister and I used when we slept over. I think it was supposed to have been for the kids they never had. Tiff and I loved it.’

‘That’s sad. Bob would have been a great dad.’

‘Yeah. He’s ten years older than Mum so he was kind of a dad to her. And now my dad’s gone, he’s great for advice. Tiff and I spent a lot of our school holidays on the farm and I loved those books almost as much as the animals.’

‘What else was on the shelf?’ Jade asked.

‘All the Narnia books, The Hobbit, Storm Boy, The Min-Min.’ He grinned. ‘Tiff was horse mad so she loved The Silver Brumby. Uncle Bob added the Harry Potter books saying it was for Tiff and me, but really it was for him. He’s a huge fan. He took us to all the movies and Auntie Pen made us wizard cloaks. Whenever I pick up a Harry Potter book, I get a warm feeling, you know?’

No. She didn’t know. Jade’s hunger to learn more about Lachlan was suddenly replete. His childhood was unrecognisable.

‘What about you?’ he asked.

‘What about me?’

He blinked at her snappish tone, wariness clouding his usually open expression. ‘We were talking about kids’ books …’ He trailed off.

She had an overwhelming urge to shock him so he’d stop being so nice. Expose the chasm of different experiences that lay between them so she wasn’t tempted to like him any more than she already did. Men like Lachlan didn’t slum it with the likes of her.

She stared him down. ‘My Harry Potter experience isn’t quite as heartwarming as yours. My mother wasn’t a fan of me reading. She thought it was a waste of time when I could be earning money. When she found out I’d bought the Harry Potter box set, she sold it and kept the money.’

Lachlan opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again, but she didn’t miss the pity in his eyes. She hated it, even though she’d deliberately put it there so he’d know his world was shiny and hers was all banged up.

The door opened and Helen walked in with Bob. He had a bunch of daffodils tucked under his arm and he carried two Acropolis Café bags full of food and drinks.

‘Hello, you two. Grab some plates and glasses for us, will you, Jade? We’ve brought you a late lunch.’

‘Do you have any serviettes, Jade?’ Helen asked.

‘Yeah. I keep them next to the silver.’

Helen pursed her lips and rummaged through a box. She ripped off some paper towel squares and put them on the table.

Jade didn’t have a vase, but she found a tall glass for the daffodils and arranged them evenly before placing them in the middle of the table. When they all sat, she realised it was the first time she’d had guests and immediately saw the table through their eyes. Only three of the plates matched and none of the glasses. She suddenly wished for six identical plates and yellow serviettes to match the flowers. But by the time she got her next Centrelink payment, the flowers would be dead and she couldn’t afford a dinner set.

Fighting resentment, she bit into the souvlaki, savouring the treat. ‘This is amazing. Thanks, Helen.’

‘Thank Bob. If it was up to me, we’d have made sandwiches.’

‘Thanks, Bob, for wasting your money on me.’ Jade grinned at him as Helen huffed.