Beth had no recollection of her father’s funeral, if he’d had one, and she’d been the only one at Rosie’s farewell because they’d had no one else in their lives—they’d only had each other. But Flo … everyone in town had loved her, and if Beth were among the mourners, she’d feel as if she were on display.
So, instead, she’d decided to work. And if the cafe happened to be quiet, she’d spend some time out on the deck, where she could soak up the sun, feel the breeze and listen to the sound of the rustling leaves. Just as she’d done when she’d first arrived in town.
But shame followed her as she walked down the street. Ellie’s frustration had been obvious. Beth had never been on the receiving end of her hostility and it scared the hell out of her.
And then there was Noah, ready, as always, to be her rock. Willing to be the voice of reason. But she’d turned her back on him and walked away. Who knew what he thought of her now? She wouldn’t blame him if he finally decided to give up on her.
Self-loathing ate away at her, bubbling in her veins like acid. Because thanks to the way her stupid brain worked, she was unable to communicate her feelings. As a result, Ellie had no doubt lost all respect for her and Noah’s patience had probably, finally, run its course.
Reaching the cafe, she unlocked the door, stepped inside and sank into the nearest chair, utterly defeated. She really should’ve known that her new life in Karlup was too good to be true. Stupidly, she’d thought she’d finally found the place she belonged. Thought she’d gained a family and people who loved her. But she’d blown it. Flo was gone and it was only a matter of time before Ellie and Noah ditched her.
In coming here, she’d let her guard down, dismantled the walls she’d erected around her heart one brick at a time. If she were to survive, she needed to build them back up. As a matter of priority.
And to do that, she’d need distance.
Half an hour, she decided. She’d give customers half an hour to show up. If they didn’t, she’d close the cafe and head back to the B&B. The funeral would’ve started by then, so she’d be free to pack up her stuff and move out with no judgement from anyone.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Birdsong and the pale light of dawn woke Beth the following morning. She blinked, forgetting for a moment where she’d slept. Not that she’d done much of that. Her eyes focused and she glanced around the room at all her worldly possessions. The things she’d left in Townsville had arrived and were stacked in the front room of her house. But the mattress—god, the mattress!
It had been leaning up against a pile of boxes when she’d arrived last night. She’d cleared a space for it on the floor and, laying it down, had slept on it bare—she hadn’t had the energy or inclination to riffle through boxes for sheets—but the lack of bed linen hadn’t caused her restless night. The unforgiving slab of foam did not compare to the heavenly contraption she’d been sleeping on for the last six months. And it probably hadn’t helped that before going to bed, she’d spent an hour standing at the front window, sobbing her heart out as she stared at the shadowy ghost of Flo’s empty house.
Now, bleary-eyed and desperate for caffeine, she considered her next move. The future weighed on her mind. She’d planned to move in here and make it her home once it was ready. Which it wasn’t. Not yet. It was nearly finished, though; just the internal doors to hang and window treatments to install. Noah had done a lot while she’d been holed up in her room at the B&B. No doubt he planned to complete these last tasks soon, but …
Her face crumpled and she pressed the heels of her hands to her eye sockets. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing him. Of seeing his disappointment. Seeing him wonder what the hell must be wrong with her to cause her not to go to the funeral of someone she’d claimed to care about.
She just couldn’t do it.
Maybe she’d text him later. Find the words to let him off the hook. Tell him that his services were no longer required. He’d probably appreciate having his life back.
Sighing, she rolled over and scowled when her cheek found a damp spot on the mattress. Had she been crying in her sleep?
Rolling the other way, she stared at the blank, freshly painted wall. What would her life look like tomorrow? A week from now?
Forget about a five-year plan. She had no clue what she’d be doing in fivehours.
How could she stay in Karlup, where running into Ellie and Noah was inevitable, where Flo’s empty house was a stark reminder of all that she’d lost? And how would she feel when someone else moved into it? Presumably, Flo’s sister would sell it. Olive and her daughter Teresa had flown over from Sydney to organise Flo’s funeral. Now that they’d laid Flo to rest in the local cemetery, Beth guessed they’d straighten out her affairs, donate her belongings, then fly home and get on with their lives.
Maybe that’s whatsheshould do, too. After all, leaving had been an option before. Should she once again consider selling this place so she could cut ties with Karlup for good?
She drifted off to sleep again, haunted by thoughts of how much easier it would be to heal from this latest loss if she were somewhere new.
* * *
An incessant knocking woke her sometime later.
She jerked her head up and immediately recoiled against the bright daylight filling the room.
The knock came again.
‘Beth, open up! I know you’re in there.’
Ellie.What was she doing here?
The knocking turned into an impatient pounding.
