Except they were clearly thinking she was about to say something humorous, no doubt so they could all have a good laugh before they each carried on with their day. But Beth wasn’t in the habit of uttering witty one-liners. Or having the undivided attention of two people who appeared so perfectly composed.
‘I-I … ah … I’m sorry. I need to be somewhere.’
Squeezing her way between them, she fled the kitchen, her emotions simmering just below the surface. Needing to be alone when they boiled over, she headed for the stairs and the safety of her room.
‘Beth! Hey!’
She stopped halfway, tightened her grip on the banister and reluctantly made eye contact with Noah. He stared up at her, his face a portrait of concern, a sense of urgency in the way he held himself.
‘Listen, let me apologise. If we said or did anything back there to upset or offend you, we’re sorry. Genuinely.’ He put a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which very nearly destroyed her. He swept his gaze over her face as if he were searching for some sign,anysign, that she was okay.
She pasted on a smile and waved a hand, hoping to dismiss his concern. ‘No, I’m fine. I just … There’s something I need to do, that’s all.’ It was a miracle her voice remained steady.
Noah squinted up at her, a finger tapping at his thigh. ‘Why don’t I believe you?’
She lifted a shoulder, praying she’d hold it together long enough to find privacy. ‘Can’t say.’
He hesitated, his finger drumming a moment longer before it stilled. ‘Then will you let me buy you a drink while you’re in town?’
Digging her nails into the palm of her hand, she glanced towards the top of the stairs. So close. No doubt her performance in the kitchen had led him to think the same as Ian, that she was too uptight and needed loosening up. Either that or he believed her to be a lost cause and was offering her a pity invitation. Or, by some miracle, he was interested and—
No. That was simply too far-fetched.
And no matter Noah’s motivation, she couldn’t accept anyway. To do so would be to subject herself to more of this humiliation, this anxiety-inducing embarrassment that only made her hate herself.
‘Thanks for the offer,’ she told him, ‘but I’m going to be pretty busy.’
Once in the privacy of her room, she clapped a hand to her mouth and let her tears fall. She cried as the shadows tracked across the floor and, time and again, wished she were braver. Wished she could’ve said yes. But she wasn’t and she didn’t.
Eventually, succumbing to exhaustion, she lay her head down and drifted off to sleep, drowning in her own inadequacy and an abundance of shame.
* * *
Dumping yet another filthy, wet rag in the kitchen sink, Beth shoved her hands on her hips and glanced around the tiny dining and kitchen area. It was far from homely, but at least it was free of dust and rat droppings. Much easier to see what she was working with now.
She’d spent the last five hours clearing the cornices of cobwebs and the floor of debris. She’d wiped down every surface and even rolled up the mouldy old carpets in the front rooms, though now she was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with them. Should she hire a skip bin? Or figure out how to transport them to the local tip? She didn’t even know if the townhada tip. Maybe she should’ve formulated a plan before ripping them up.
Just as she was contemplating whether she’d acted too rashly, her stomach growled. Loudly. And it dawned on her that she hadn’t eaten a single thing all day. After waking at the crack of dawn and dreading Ellie’s derision—or worse, her pity—after her behaviour the previous day, she’d stolen out of the B&B during the breakfast service, seizing the opportunity to make herself scarce while her animated host was occupied with other guests. It would be wonderful if they could avoid crossing paths for the rest of Beth’s stay. Or better yet, for the rest of the time she was in Karlup.
After giving her hands and face a good scrub, Beth grabbed her keys and drove into town. She parked opposite the quaint little cafe situated by the old wooden bridge she’d crossed just a few days ago. Bold letters on the shop’s facade proclaimed it to be the Boomerang Cafe, and underneath, in a jaunty cursive font, was the slogan:Our diners always come back.
The clever marketing had her smiling as she pushed through the door, causing a bell to tinkle overhead.
‘Kaya! Hello!’ The woman behind the counter, a bit older than middle-aged, greeted her with a friendly smile. ‘Dine in or take away, love?’
Beth was tempted to grab something to take away but could see the place wasn’t busy. Spotting an outdoor dining area through the rear windows cemented her decision.
‘I’ll dine in, thanks.’
‘No problem. Go ahead and choose a seat, and I’ll be right with you.’
Beth thanked the woman and headed for the back door of the cafe, stepped through and—
Oh, wow.
Standing on a wooden deck that overlooked a steep decline, she took in the countless trees, straight as soldiers and creating a natural privacy screen, their leaves rustling lightly in the breeze. Spring sunshine filtered through the leafy canopy, bathing everything in dappled light and reminding her of her beloved cottage back home.
She chose a table in the sun and sank into a chair to soak up the warmth of the day—the chill each morning didn’t seem to last long—while, somewhere below, beyond the trees, a river gurgled cheerfully. She closed her eyes and inhaled, breathing in the earthy scent of tree sap and eucalyptus as nature’s song—the chirping of birds and cicadas—settled over her and lulled her into a trance.
