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‘Yes. It’s changed a bit since your day, but the food is still good.’
Morgan frowned as he followed her out onto the street. ‘Does Allison Goulas still own it?’
Becca paused to do up her long navy coat and she could see he was conscious of passers by having a good look at him.
‘Yes. I think she’ll die in the place. It’s her precious. She did it up a few years ago. Once the town started to get a bit touristy. You’ll hardly recognise it.’
He was silent as they turned the corner and headed along the main street. The ancient leopard trees with their distinctive bark still cast a wide shade from the centre strip. They’d been pruned to keep the branches from drooping low enough to affect traffic, but not as badly as the ones in the side streets along the footpaths that were under the power lines. ‘I’ve often thought the original town planners must have had grandiose visions for Maiden’s Landing with these wide streets and the median strips.’
Morgan stopped to stare at the trees, shoving his hands into his pockets. All the trees along the blocks that comprised the main shopping centre had lights strung over them, unlit during the day. ‘It’s funny. I haven’t been home during the winter since before I graduated.’
‘And here you are.’
He raised his brows. ‘Do I note a sarcastic tone?’
With a shrug, Becca moved away, heading down the footpath. ‘I know your mother enjoyed going away for holidays, but Ned doesn’t like the bright lights.’
‘You’ve really wormed your way in there, haven’t you?’
Pain stilled her as she fixed her gaze on the plate glass windows of the café. ‘I thought we were going to talk about the practice.’
She could see Morgan’s tall figure behind her in the glass. He made her feel small. Once upon a time that had included feeling protected. She’d loved him for that, even without all the other things.
He sighed, with a lift of his shoulders she could see against the background of the trees and the shops across the street. ‘I’m sorry. We better go in.’
They settled in a booth against one wall under a series of paintings depicting rural scenes with small price tags fixed to one corner of the frames.
She ordered a slice of quiche and bottled water from the young waitress who was clearly intrigued by the appearance of Morgan, an apparent stranger in the small town. Morgan took longer, scanning the menu with its kitschy illustrations of food with slightly raised brows.
‘I’ll have the gourmet meat pie with sweet potato fries and aioli sauce.’
When the girl had gone, Becca studied Morgan. ‘Taking your mother’s criticism to heart?’
‘I wasn’t aware you were privy to my mother’s concerns about my weight.’
‘Half the town is aware your mother has been worried about you.’
‘I suppose nothing much has changed with the grapevine.’
Becca shrugged. ‘It’s not as efficient as it used to be. There are quite a lot of new people in town. They haven’t divulged all their secrets yet.’
‘Much to Beryl Harmsworth’s disappointment I’m sure.’
His crooked smile did something strange to her heart and she focused her attention on the bottle of local spring water delivered by the waitress. She didn’t know how people coped with seeing their ex-lovers around town. Bad enough to remember the emotional response to the breakup without having flashbacks of getting naked with them. Heat flushed over her skin, zipping along nerve endings and she pressed her knees together, hating that her body was so out of control.
Think about work.That’s why they were here.
‘Tell me about your plans. For the practice.’ He’d looked odd when she’d asked the question and she hastily added the disclaimer.
Leaning forward in his chair, elbows on the table, Morgan studied the nearby tables. There was no-one close but he kept his voice low. ‘I’m thinking of expanding. Bringing in more doctors and another practice nurse. There’s room to put a small day surgery in the large unused area at the back. Ultrasound and colonoscopies. Antenatal clinics. A mental health unit. Small procedures. It would save people travelling to Bialga.’
‘Is there the population here?’
‘I was talking to the nursing superintendent at the hospital and the visiting surgeon, Michael Long, and they both think so. The town is growing fast and Doc Farrell couldn’t cope with the growth. He should have brought in a partner or two instead of trying to keep up with locums coming and going. The overflow has to go out of town. It would help keep business in the town. If people travel to Bialga for appointments, they tend to shop there too.’
Becca wondered what all these changes would mean for the local staff. For her. ‘I suppose you’d want someone with more experience in a large practice to do the management.’
‘Don’t you think you’re up to it?’
