‘Thanks. That’s kind of you.’
‘Well, I’ll stop badgering you now so you can eat.’
But as Marge turned for the door, Beth was struck with an idea. ‘Actually,’ she called, causing Marge to turn back. But Beth wasn’t used to speaking up and stumbled on her words. ‘I, uh … I’ll be looking for some part-time work while I’m in town. If you hear of anything, I’d be grateful if you could pass on the details. To me, I mean.’
Marge barked out a laugh. ‘You’re kidding! I just pinned up a “help wanted” notice in the front window, right after you came in.’
What were the odds?
‘Our first grandbaby is due next month,’ Marge explained, ‘and I plan on taking some time off to play granny, so I’ll need an extra pair of hands around here. It must’ve been fate that brought you here today.’ She tipped her head to the side, giving Beth an assessing glance. ‘How do you feel about waiting tables?’
The truth was, not great. She’d had enough of crabby customers to last her a lifetime and there was nothing worse than going home at the end of every shift smelling like the deep fryer. But beggars couldn’t be choosers and it was only temporary. Plus, she was sure Marge would make a fantastic boss.
‘Wonderful!’ Beth grinned, excited by the prospect of ticking a very important item off her to-do list. ‘I’ve got years of hospitality experience. I could get you some references if you like.’
‘Nah, that’s not the way I do things here. I prefer to judge people on the work they do for me, not for someone else. How about you come in for a shift next week and we’ll see how you go?’
‘That would be great! Thank you so much.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ Marge smiled. ‘Now, I’m going inside. You eat up before you fade away.’
Beth chuckled in disbelief when she was alone again. A job landing in her lap, just like that? If she were braver and more confident, she’d do a happy dance in her chair. Instead, she picked up her panini and took a bite, projecting her happiness out towards the trees.
With any luck, the rest of her stay in Karlup would run just as smoothly.
CHAPTER
FIVE
When Beth had turned up at the Boomerang Cafe for her trial shift the following week, Marge introduced her to her husband, Tom, who did all the cooking. Beth’s first impressions had been that Tom was as friendly as his wife, though perhaps not as talkative. He’d given calm, clear instructions as he plated up food and pointed out all the work stations she needed to know about, and afterwards, Marge had walked her through all the front-of-house duties.
For the next few hours, Beth had worked hard, ensuring customers were fed and tables were cleared. She thought the shift had gone well, despite the chaos during the lunch hour. When it was over, Marge had sat her down and Tom had come out of the kitchen.
‘We’d be stupid not to hire you,’ Marge had said.
Smiling widely, Tom had wiped his hands on a dish towel and nodded at his wife. ‘What she said.’
Thrilled to have ticked job hunting off her to-do list, Beth had extended her stay at the B&B, seeing as Ellie hadn’t treated her any differently following the kitchen debacle. Besides, since getting the job at the cafe over a week ago, Beth had spent most of her time either working shifts or getting stuck into all the jobs she had to do around her aunt’s house.
Today’s task? Gardening. The sun was shining, after all.
Lifting a box containing gardening paraphernalia—gloves, trowel, secateurs and other handheld implements she didn’t know the names of—from the back seat of her rental car, she carried it to the house, intending to dump it on the verandah before going back for the shovel, rake and a bag of fertiliser, but just as she took the first step, a flash of colour caught her eye. Leaning over the rickety handrailing, she peered down into the long-neglected garden bed. Was that a flower blooming?
She placed the box of supplies on the ground and crouched to inspect the slash of deep red visible among the weeds. Parting the waist-high greenery, she found a rose bud about the size of a walnut peeking up at her.
She yanked a few weeds out by the roots and, sure enough, there was the prickly branch of a rose bush. She glanced along the garden bed at the mix of weeds that’d taken over the space. They existed in layers; those that were long dead carpeted the ground, while more had sprouted from their carcasses over the winter and were now thick-stemmed and mature.
A surge of inexplicable anger rose up in her. Weeds, in general, were persistent, suffocating, dreadful things, but while the ugliness thrived, the beauty underneath was hidden from the world. Fuelled by a desperate need to see balance restored, she tore at the weeds.
She might not know a thing about gardening, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she’d unearthed every last rose bush. If they hadn’t perished with neglect, she’d do everything she could to nurse them back to health and restore their beauty.
A car turned into the street and the silver-haired lady who lived across the road pulled into her driveway. Beth had glimpsed the woman pottering around her garden once or twice but had so far avoided having to engage in any small talk.
Intending for that trend to continue, Beth moved along the garden bed, focusing on her task, determined to decimate the ugliness that’d taken over it. It was surprisingly satisfying. She hadn’t given much thought to what she’d do in the yards here—she’d been fixated on the house—but now that she’d taken this step, ideas started flowing. Restore the rose bushes, line the garden path with daisies, the driveway with lavender—
A clunking thud and a loud ‘Oh!’ startled her and she spun around.
Her elderly neighbour stood at the open boot of her car holding a shopping bag, though it was slack and dangling from her fingers. On the ground lay a pile of groceries. A can was rolling down the driveway as Beth rushed across the street, and by the time she’d retrieved it, a puddle of spilled milk had spread and was encroaching on the spot where the woman stood.
