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

around an accident of birth. Of course the police don’t call it harassment, they call it interviewing. Following up leads. How would you feel if those leads brought the police to your door every time something was stolen?’

Tara heard an accusation. ‘Jon and I didn’t ask the police to target anyone. We just want them to find the culprits and stop the break-ins.’

‘So does Amal. Right now the young man who responded to a plea for help is being unfairly treated. He needs a break or he’ll end up doing something stupid because no one other than his mother believes in him.’

Amal is a good boy! The memory of Fiza furiously defending her son at the hospital rushed back. At the time, Tara had been indignant that Fiza was criticising her right to question whether a teenage boy she’d never met was capable of minding her children. But it wasn’t only that Amal was a teenager or a boy.

Tara had stood in this garden once before and told Helen she wasn’t racist. But now she couldn’t hide from the uncomfortable truth that if Amal had been white, she probably wouldn’t have questioned the children’s safety quite so vigorously. Fiza had reacted to her casual racism and why wouldn’t she? If Amal was always assumed guilty and needed to prove his innocence even when he was ten kilometres away from the scene of the crime, it would jaundice their view of the world.

A need to make amends prompted her to say, ‘Based on our experience, Jon and I could go to the police and give him a character reference.’

‘You could do that.’

Tara squirmed under the intensity of Helen’s gaze, just as she had under her mother’s. The sensation was the same—she was coming up short. Very short.

‘We will do that,’ she said.

‘What about showing him trust and demanding responsibility?’

‘I don’t follow?’

‘Give him a part-time job.’

Tara’s chest tightened. The annual tradition was to give summer jobs to the children of their employees. ‘We usually only give jobs to people we …’ Know. She hardly knew Amal, but unlike most of the teenagers they employed through the long-standing system of nepotism, she’d actually met him.

‘I’ll talk to Jon about the possibility of a Christmas job, but I can’t promise anything.’

Helen smiled and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Thank you. And thanks for the plants. Sorry, I have to dash to a garden committee meeting. See you soon.’

As Tara watched Helen walk away, sadness dumped over her like thick tar, weighing her down. She desperately missed pre-Parkinson’s Jon—the physically strong and indomitable version of her husband who’d grabbed her by the hand and taken her with him on life’s adventures, easing her way. Now she was easing his way, but who was easing hers?

She missed Shannon so much. If her friend was still here Tara knew she’d be in her corner, like Helen was in Amal’s, cheering and going in to bat for her. She ached for the loss of her mother too. Jane had always been a good listener and given sage advice, even though there’d been times Tara hadn’t wanted to hear it. She’d give anything to hear it now.

Her phone pinged and a slew of messages came in.

Two appointment reminders for Jon and a your prescription is ready from the pharmacy.

Tara, Vivian’s chucking a hissy fit about the bathroom tiles. I told her you’d sort it out. Samantha

Hi, Tara, I need those vouchers you promised for the preschool fete today. Can you drop them off to me? I’m at work. Ta. Kelly

PFA meeting tonight. Be good if you could make this one. Need your support on the car boot sale idea. Rhianna

Thought I’d go to cricket training. Dad wondering if it’s the usual roast tomorrow? Be good if you can manage it. #operationnormal Jon x

Felix is overdue for his annual vaccination. We value your pet’s health. Please make an appointment today at Boolanga Veterinary Clinic

God! Was it too much to ask to go ten minutes without someone needing her?

The barrage of messages pummelled her like waves pounding on a break and she switched off the phone before another one arrived. Before someone else was demanding something of her. Needing her.

The future with all its known and unknown terrors rose up like a spectre. The low-grade panic that had been quietly simmering since Jon’s diagnosis hit boiling point, racing her heart, shortening her breath and lifting her chest in short sharp jerks.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t be the person everyone depended on to support them when she had nothing underneath supporting her.

Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. She half ran, half walked to the car.

CHAPTER

27

Helen hurried towards the shelter for the committee meeting, excited about the unexpected donation of plants from Tara. She’d been holding her breath for weeks, fully expecting the Hoopers to pull the pin on the sponsorship, but now Tara was entertaining the idea of employing Amal. Few shocks were good shocks but this one was brilliant. It had gone a long way to restoring Helen’s battered faith in human nature. The mayor might be a self-promoting bastard prepared to bulldoze anyone who stood in his way, but some people still considered others.

The thought snagged. At the thank-you morning tea, Tara Hooper had struck Helen as a privileged and self-centred bigot. She couldn’t help wondering if her act of considering the women instead of throwing the plants into landfill might be connected to her own changed circumstances. When she’d heard about Jon’s diagnosis, she’d wanted to hug Tara. She knew all about the challenges of being a carer and the inevitable toll it took on hopes and dreams, not to mention the unrelenting daily grind. Right now, Tara had the preoccupied air of someone overwhelmed by massive change.

Faint strands of guilt circled Helen that she’d pushed the already stressed woman about a job for Amal. But sometimes a chance only came around once and it was dangerous not to grab it and hold on tight. Next week