Page 41 of Return to the Waratah Inn

“Where’d you come from?” Fran asked.

“Bathurst originally, but Newcastle today. How about you?”

“The Narrabeen Lagoon Camp.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “This is my fourth kid. Is it your first?”

Mima nodded, feeling shocked but trying not to show it. Fran was so young. She looked as though she couldn’t be more than twenty years old. “Have you been here long?”

Fran sat on the bed. “A couple of weeks.”

“Oh.”

Fran’s gaze finally rested on hers. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. It’s scary at first, but the girls are nice enough.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel a little better. Should I unpack?” Mima pointed to her suitcase.

“If you like. I was hiding out in my room to avoid the kitchen, but I guess she’s seen me now, so we’ll both have to go down and help. She’s a dragon when it comes to everyone working hard. I’m feeling sickly today.”

“Nausea?” Mima asked as she knelt to open her suitcase.

Fran nodded. “It’s been bad the last few days. I had to use both bedpans. It’s a long walk to the toilets. Don’t worry, I washed ‘em.”

“I hate the nausea. I wish the toilets were closer. It must be fun walking all that way in the middle of the night in this weather.”

Fran giggled. “Too true. It’s been cold enough for icicles to sprout on my rear end most nights this week.”

Mima giggled. “That sounds painful.”

There was a sudden thunder of footsteps on the staircase, and a girl with red ponytail stuck her head through the doorway.

“Time for Mass!” she said in a bright voice. “Oh, hi. I’m Dot.”

Mima held out a hand, and Dot shook it. “I’m Mima. Mass, did you say?”

“Yep. Get dressed and wash up fast or you’ll hear about it.” Dot grinned and then was gone.

Mima turned to face Fran with a quizzical look. “I’m not Catholic.”

“It’s not Mass, it’s church. She calls it that because she’s Catholic. Come on—we’ve got to get dressed or Mrs Thompson will have our hides. Then after church, we serve the soup. Oh, and by the way, stick with me because we have to sit up the back of the church. The good ‘uns who have families don’t want us reprobates anywhere near ’em.”

“Maybe they think our depravity is catching,” Mima replied with a sniff.

Fran opened the cupboard to pull out a simple frock. “Maybe they’re right,” she replied with a wink.

Chapter Twenty-Two

January 1998

Cabarita Beach

The beach was busy today, and Alex Cannon had hoped it would be empty. He needed time to think. Pandanus trees arched over the edge of the dunes, leaving dappled patches of shade on the sand where he sat beside his surfboard. Nearby, two red and yellow flags flapped in the wind and in the shallows between them, children jumped and squealed. Further out, adults bodysurfed, bobbed over breakers, or swam freestyle across the beach lengthwise.

It was a stunning day, with the morning sun already high in the sky, sending a cloying heat across the bleached landscape. He inhaled a slow breath, then got on his knees to wax his board. His half-shucked wetsuit was warm to the touch after sitting in the back of his ute in the sun on the drive over. He wiped zinc across his cheeks and nose, his hair stuck in every direction after a restless night of sleep.

The baby had kept them both awake most of the night. He’d had no idea a newborn baby could wake up so many times. Being a father had already been such a learning experience—he hadn’t really prepared himself fully for it. But perhaps that was because whenever he thought about parenting, his own parents came to mind.

He’d intended to come to the beach to surf, to push all other thoughts out of his head and focus on the sand, the waves and the beauty of nature. But when he arrived, he’d set his board down beneath a pandanus tree just ahead of the dunes and stayed there. Something had taken the wind out of his sails emotionally, and he had a suspicion it was related to the fact that his mother had called him the previous evening to say that his parents wanted to visit from Port Macquarie so they could meet baby Noah.

He’d put them off for now, said the baby wasn’t sleeping well, they were busy, it wasn’t a good time, but he knew the day would come. His parents were excited about the baby’s arrival, and it made sense they’d visit. It made a little less sense, in his mind, for them to stay with him and Kate, but Kate had insisted that when they came they’d have to stay at the house.