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“I volunteer. I run a weekly dance class. Mostly waltzing. Beryl likes to tango but none of the men can do the dip anymore. It’s more social time than exercise or a therapeutic activity.”
“Beryl sounds interesting,” I said. “I can drop you off after work. No problem.”
Stacey gathered her things from her car; a small CD player, two CDs and a large rectangular portfolio case from yesterday that had architectural drawings in it.
I opened the passenger door for her, and she deposited everything on the seat. As I put my toolkit and the towel back, Stacey retrieved more things from her car: a cardboard box with a woollen blanket, two large bottles of water and a first aid kit.
“It’s the basics in case you’re caught in a bushfire,” she shrugged. “It’s just habit, you know.”
I pulled my leather jacket back on as the wind picked up. “But the blanket? You think you’re going to be cold in Lorraine?”
“If you get stuck in your car in a bushfire, covering yourself with this could save your life. Wool is a great insulator from the radiant heat of a fire.”
“Okay, but it’s winter. You really think there’s danger of that today?”
“It’s cold today but weather forecast is predicting a warm front soon. Lots of dry tinder about in the bush and paddocks. You never know when a spark can turn into a fire.”
Stacey arranged her things in Lorraine’s boot.
“Once you’re a firefighter, it’s hard to break the habit of having these things in your car.”
“You’re a firefighter, too?” I laughed in disbelief. “Stacey, how many jobs do you have? Are you the Lord Mayor of Ballydoon, too?”
My tone was playful, but Stacey shrugged as if embarrassed, pulling her coat around her.
“I’m in the volunteer Rural Fire Brigade at Ballydoon. I just do radio comms. It’s not like it’s a paid job or anything.”
We got in and buckled up. She ran a finger over the stitched edge of the leather seat. Was she thinking about Saturday night together?
I cleared my throat, before turning the key in the ignition.
“But it still counts, right? Volunteering?” I said. “Country people do that. Pitching in to help.”
“Of course,” she shrugged. “Otherwise, shit doesn’t get done.”
I smiled, starting the engine. Lorraine answered with a roar.
“I’m not used to how much everyone does around here to help out. I mean, as doctors we were invited to lots of events through the hospital foundation back in Brisbane, but it wasn’t like out here.”
Stacey glanced my way as I headed to the highway. “What’s so different here compared to the city?”
“Pam is on different committees. George does Rotary, Chamber of Commerce, board work for the agricultural society, and they’re just some of the things I don’t have to do while he’s away. Pam mentioned I’m doing a speech on behalf of the practice at a fundraising dinner for the rural fire brigade.”
“Yes, it’s in three weeks. Doc Larcombe has always sponsored that fundraising dinner.”
“What about government funding?”
She snorted, and I found myself really liking the sound. Since when did I ever think snorting was cute?
“We get a little from the government. Every dollar raised helps us keep fuel in the trucks, water in the tanks and uniforms on our backs.”
“Are you going to the dinner, too?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
“The whole practice does. We have a table.”
I nodded.
“Sam will be there, too. She’s the friend who I messaged about … well, you know.”
