The wild one, p.4
The Wild One, page 4
"The day after our last bridge game actually. Phil had set up an interview and it went well, and so" — Rachel shrugged — "she started the next day. She's worked in the business before and, what's more, she can drive that wretched loader."
Sandy raised her eyebrows. "She can?"
"You mean it's a woman?" Colleen put in, and Rhonda chuckled.
"Now, let's all follow the clues. She's not a man, so she must be a woman."
They all laughed.
"Very funny." Colleen pulled a face at Rhonda. "What I meant was that I was surprised you'd hired a woman, Rachel. Most women wouldn't like that kind of work."
"Most women who? Or is it whom? Whatever. I happen to like it," said Rachel. "And exactly what kind of work are we talking about here?"
"I know you like it, Rachel, but I just meant. . . Oh, for heaven's sake, I don't know what I meant now. Let's move on. Who is she? Does she live around here? How old is she? And do we know her?"
"And don't forget what size underwear does she wear?" quipped Sandy. "You're a typical teacher, Colleen. Questions. Questions. How about letting Rachel tell us the story?"
"Because Rachel needs prompting, that's why." Colleen replied. "You know getting gossip out of Rachel is like pulling teeth."
"It's hardly gossip, Colleen," Sandy began, but her sister quelled her with a look.
"Better unburden yourself, Rachel," suggested Rhonda, "or we'll never get our game started."
"Well." Rachel paused, suddenly a little reluctant to mention Quinn Farrelly.
"What did I tell you?" Colleen appealed, hunching her shoulders and putting her hands out, palms up. "It's like pulling teeth."
"Give her a go, Colleen," Sandy admonished and looked back expectantly at Rachel.
"Actually," Rachel began again. "You do all know her. She was born here, but she's been ..." Rachel paused once more. "She's been away for years, and she's just come home." Rachel swallowed.
Colleen shook her head at Rachel. "And?"
"And it's Quinn Farrelly."
For once the others were speechless.
"We did hear she'd come home," Sandy said carefully. "I remember we were talking about it at our last meeting."
"She's been away?" Colleen guffawed. "Only you would put it that way, Rachel. Quinn Farrelly's been away in prison, that's what."
"I know, Colleen," Rachel said quickly. "But she did her time and she's, well, she's trying to get on with her life."
"And I'll bet young Mark Herron would have liked to have got on with his life, too, if Quinn Farrelly hadn't killed him." Colleen put on her glasses and began shuffling the cards.
Sandy rolled her eyes at Rachel. "Now be fair, Colleen. Any one of the others could have been as responsible for what happened as Quinn was. Everyone agreed on that at the time."
Colleen sighed loudly. "Okay. Point taken. And I guess you're right," she acknowledged reluctantly. "It just seemed to me as though Quinn Farrelly's life was heading in the direction of disaster from the moment she was born."
"I wonder what Laurel Greenwood thinks about Quinn Farrelly coming home." Rhonda picked up the cards Colleen had dealt. "She'd hardly want to be reminded of all that, especially now that Mike's thinking of going into federal politics. They wouldn't want any blatant reminders of any of Laurel's indiscretions."
"Indiscretions? You wouldn't have to look far," Colleen exclaimed derisively. "Now there was another little troublemaker."
"Laurel was supposed to be Quinn's best friend." Sandy shook her head. "Sad, really. I never could understand why she didn't even show her face in court back then. She didn't, did she, Rachel?" Sandy turned to her cousin.
"No. No, she didn't." Rachel frowned. "But she was still in the hospital, and they had her statement, of course."
"Laurel's poor long-suffering parents must have been experts at getting that little villain out of scrapes," stated Colleen. "I heard they made sure Laurel stayed safely in the hospital too. As I remember, she wasn't that badly injured."
"Well, it was all irrelevant anyway," said Rachel. "Once Quinn pleaded guilty."
"So what's Quinn Farrelly like now?" Rhonda asked.
Rachel shrugged, schooling her expression. "She looks the same. But older, of course. She looks well and fit."
"She was attractive, I'll give you that." Colleen frowned. "It must have been, what did we say? Twelve years ago? She can't have been in jail for all that time. Was she?"
"No. She's been working interstate for quite a while. Then she said she decided to come home."
Colleen frowned as she sorted the cards in her hand. "Why come back now? Why not when her mother died? Sounds funny to me."
Rachel remained silent, and Colleen turned to peer at her over the top of her glasses.
"I'm concerned, Rachel."
"What about?"
"About you hiring Quinn Farrelly. About the whole thing."
"I really don't see why," Rachel said quickly. "She has wonderful references and, believe me, I can't complain about the way she works."
"Phil's a sensible guy. What does he think about her?" asked Sandy.
"I know he agrees with me," Rachel told her, feeling irrationally irritated that Sandy should think Phil's opinion was worth more than her own.
"The question is, has this particular leopard changed its spots?" Colleen exclaimed ominously. "As I said before, trouble has followed Quinn Farrelly all her life."
"She's done her time, Colleen," Rachel reminded her cousin. "I think she should be given the chance to make a fresh start, if not for Quinn herself then for the sake of her daughter."
There was another moment of shocked silence.
"Quinn Farrelly has a child?" Colleen asked in amazement.
"Her name's Katie, and she's about five years old I think."
"Well, who would have thought it?" said Sandy. "And have you met her husband, Rachel?"
"She said she and the little girl's father weren't together any more."
"Oh dear." Sandy shook her head. "Quinn Farrelly with a family. It's sort of hard to imagine. I mean, I only remember her as a teenaged tearaway, but I guess she must be about thirty years old now. And we all had families before we were thirty, so when you look at it that way I don't know why I should be so surprised."
"Thirty or not, I'm surprised," said Colleen. "Quinn Farrelly's past aside, I always thought she batted for the other team."
Chapter Seven
Rachel's throat went dry, and she could feel heat color her face as her nerve endings prickled to attention.
"What other team?" asked Sandy innocently, and her sister turned to stare at her.
"I can't believe we're related. There must have been a mix-up at the hospital when you were born."
"We have the same features and coloring," Sandy began as Rhonda giggled.
"Honestly, Sandy," Colleen continued, "I sometimes wonder if you inhabit the same planet as the rest of us. Just tell me you know what a lesbian is."
"Of course I know what a —" Sandy's eyes grew round and her voice dropped to a whisper. "You mean Quinn Farrelly is a lesbian?"
"That's what was whispered at the time," Colleen told her, mimicking her sister.
"Did you know that, Rachel?" Sandy asked, and Rachel swallowed.
"No. I didn't."
"See, Colleen. Rachel didn't know either."
"Rachel's almost as naive as you are, Sandy. But getting back to Quinn Farrelly, all I'm saying is, there was a story going around after one of the school socials."
"How could she be a lesbian?" Sandy asked. "She was going out with, what's his name? The guy who lost his leg?"
"The Kingston kid. Graham, I think it was," said Colleen. "So what? She was also always with Laurel Lawson. Sorry, Laurel Greenwood."
"Quinn and Laurel?" Sandy repeated in astonishment.
Rachel was just as amazed as Sandy was. She could barely take it in. Where did Colleen hear all this gossip?
"Wow!" exclaimed Rhonda. "No one told me any of this, so I didn't know either."
"I think Colleen's making it up to tease us," suggested Sandy, watching her sister for a change of expression.
Colleen shrugged. "It's just too easy to tease you, Sandy. But no, I'm not making this up, and I'm not having a go at you this time. Someone told me once one of the teachers had caught Quinn and Laurel together and that they were acting like more than friends."
Sandy scoffed at her sister. "Well, it all sounds pretty feeble to me. Laurel married Mike Greenwood not long after Quinn went to jail, and they've got three kids. Now Rachel tells us Quinn has a child too. I think you're wrong, Colleen."
"A lot of gay people get married," Colleen began, and Rhonda held up her hand.
"Now that discussion could take all afternoon. And as intriguing as it sounds, gossiping is not the reason we're here. Why don't we get this game of bridge on the road?"
"Yes," agreed Rachel quickly. "It is our last game before Christmas. We won't be playing again until next year."
Rachel had turned her concentration to the game as they began to play, but one small part of her mind stayed on Quinn Farrelly and the enticing, terrifying questions Colleen's insinuations had aroused.
Now, driving to work, Rachel frowned as she thought about what Colleen had said about Quinn. As if she hadn't been thinking about it all night, she chastised herself irritatedly.
Looking back, Rachel knew Quinn and Laurel had been best friends in primary school and all through high school. They'd been inseparable.
But hadn't everyone had a best friend? she rationalized. Her best friend had been Janey Watson. They'd both become teachers, and they'd studied together, partied together.
Then Janey had been posted to a school in north Queensland, and they'd only seen each other when Janey came home for the holidays. Three years later Janey married a local police constable, and ever since, they'd moved around the state as her husband was transferred with his job. Rachel and Janey exchanged letters, phoned each other occasionally, and caught up with each other when Janey visited her parents every second year.
Yes, everyone had a best friend. And Laurel was Quinn's. That's all it had been, she told herself firmly.
But if Quinn was a lesbian . . . Rachel swallowed as a heady heat flared inside her. She drew a deep breath as her heart pounded erratically in her throat.
Would it make any difference if Quinn Farrelly was a lesbian? Rachel could hardly broach the subject with the other woman. She knew she wouldn't have the courage to do it.
Rachel pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car. She had to put the whole idea out of her mind. Resolutely, she walked through the open gate to find Quinn and Phil standing together by the counter.
They each held a hot mug of coffee in one hand and one of Phil's mouth-watering muffins in the other. And after her unnerving thoughts about Quinn on the drive to work, Rachel found she could barely meet Quinn's gaze.
On the counter, waiting for her arrival, were Rachel's mug and a muffin, and Rachel was sure her tummy growled as the delicious aroma of the freshly brewed coffee teased her nostrils.
"Morning," Quinn and Phil said together as Rachel reached for her coffee.
She took a sip and sighed. "Ahh! That is absolute ambrosia."
Phil grinned. "And notice I'm not saying anything about skipping the most important meal of the day."
"For your information, Phil Stevens, I did have breakfast. And apart from that, do I look like I miss any meals, let alone the most important ones?" Rachel noticed that Quinn and Phil were both letting their gazes move over her. She picked up the muffin and bit into it to disguise her flush of discomposure. "Apple and cinnamon," she said inanely, and Phil's grin widened.
"I was just telling Phil that anyone who can make coffee and muffins as good as these would be definite marriage material." Quinn laughed and winked at Phil.
Rachel watched them over the rim of her coffee mug, sensing a hint of a shared joke in the look that passed between them. Was there something between Quinn and Phil? Admittedly Quinn had only been working here for two weeks, but if they were attracted to each other... Rachel found she didn't want to continue that particular thought. For some reason it unsettled her.
Then Colleen's words returned. Quinn bats for the other team.
"And I told Quinn," Phil was replying, "that I live in hope."
"In hope?" Rachel drew her whirling thoughts back to the conversation.
"That someone, the right someone, that is, will make an honest man of me," he said lightly and, picking up Quinn's empty coffee mug, walked over to the office.
Rachel stole a glance at Quinn. She was looking after Phil, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. A twinge of some sharp emotion Rachel refused to acknowledge was jealousy jabbed inside her, and she pretended an interest in her coffee in case Quinn should read her thoughts in her eyes.
"He's a nice guy," said Quinn. "It's a wonder someone hasn't snapped him up, isn't it?"
"Yes." Rachel agreed carefully. "He was married and divorced between when he left to join the Navy and before he came home. Is he . . .?" Rachel paused, knowing she was gossiping but unable to stop herself continuing. "Did he say he was interested in anyone in particular?"
"Not exactly." Quinn began tidying the counter, her eyes not meeting Rachel's. "But I get the impression there is someone."
"Oh." Rachel considered this information. Obviously Sandy wasn't aware of it, or she would have mentioned it to Rachel. Phil and Rachel only met socially at occasional family gatherings and, although they chatted at work, they both seemed to steer clear of any personal subjects. Rachel had preferred it that way.
She slid another glance at Quinn to find Quinn now watching her contemplatively. "Well." Rachel made herself laugh. "As you said, he is a nice guy and, as a very indifferent cook myself, anyone's cooking skills seem like an added advantage to me."
Quinn laughed too. "I know what you mean. I'm okay with the plain stuff, but I'd freak out if I had to do something exotic. So, to change the subject of our failings, how was your bridge game yesterday?"
"Oh. Fine. And speaking of failings —"
"You mean you didn't win?"
"No." Rachel grimaced ruefully. "I couldn't seem to concentrate and was dutifully admonished by my cousin Colleen."
"As in your cousin Colleen, the teacher?"
Rachel nodded. "She only teaches part time now."
Quinn shook her head. "I remember her. She could be fierce."
"That about sums Colleen up." Rachel agreed with a laugh. "If they didn't look alike, you'd never suspect Colleen and Sandy were sisters. They're about exact opposites."
"And you'd never know you were her cousin either," Quinn said softly.
Rachel's gaze met Quinn's, and any light quip Rachel might have made died on her lips as the air between them seemed to grow heavy with a strange, almost charged, uneasiness. A frisson of excitement clutched at Rachel's stomach, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything apart from the curve of Quinn's mouth, her full lips, the raised lighter ridge that delineated them.
A soft moan bubbled up inside her, but if the sound escaped it was thankfully drowned by the rumble of a small truck turning into the Supply Center.
Quinn moved, taking a step away, and then paused, looking back at Rachel. She opened her mouth to say something and hesitated again. "Seems like our workday has begun," she said lightly enough as she continued on her way.
But Rachel was sure that wasn't what Quinn had first intended to say. She took a gulp of her now cooled coffee and made herself walk toward the office.
With Christmas drawing closer, the pace at work intensified. They were rushed with Christmas orders for live trees, for Christmas gifts, and for hurried garden makeovers for the festive season. Rachel fell into bed exhausted each night with little time to reflect on anything.
As usual Rachel and the children spent Christmas Eve with Rose and Charlie at the farm. On Christmas Day they returned to share Christmas lunch with Rachel's mother, her aunt, and Colleen and Sandy's families at Colleen's large old home opposite Rachel's mother's house.
The Garden and Landscaping Center was open for a few days between Christmas and New Year but, compared to their pre-Christmas rush, business was much slower, enabling them to restock and do some much needed maintenance. It was almost closing time and, with the Garden Center empty of customers, Phil brought up the subject of what they were all intending to do for New Year's Eve.
Phil told them he would be partying at Steve and Sandy's, and Quinn said she had been invited to go along with Johnno and Josie to a work party. However, she said she wasn't keen on keeping Katie out so late.
Rachel had promised her children she'd take them into the city to Southbank to watch the fireworks.
"They have an early display for families with young children, so I decided that would suit us very well," Rachel told them.
"Sounds far more sensible," Phil said. "That's what I'd do if I had kids. Unfortunately, I'll probably end up with a hangover and spend New Year's Day deciding I'm too old and promising whoever that I won't repeat the same mistakes next New Year's Eve."
"The fireworks sound wonderful. I" — Quinn paused slightly — "I don't suppose you'd consider having company? I mean, would you mind if Katie and I tagged along with you?"
"Of course I don't mind," Rachel assured her. "It would be great to have your company. And I'd love to meet Katie."
"Sure we wouldn't be in the way?"
"Of course not. We'd be pleased to have you and Katie come with us." Rachel felt a thrill of elation she knew far outweighed what she should be feeling at the thought of spending an evening with Quinn. "It should be a good night," she added hurriedly. "The only drawback I see will be finding a car park. I guess the most sensible thing to do would be to go in the one car, so perhaps we could collect you and Katie."
"Why don't you go in on the train?" Phil suggested. "I read something in the paper just yesterday about public transport being the answer to the stress of driving into the city and parking with the other couple of hundred thousand they expect in there. The train takes you right to Southbank, and they're even putting on extra services especially for New Year."
