Angel's Bend
Chapter One
Putting her backpack down on the footpath and stuffing the novel she’d been reading into it, Lacey Green waited as the bus driver opened the metal compartment in the side of the bus to retrieve her suitcase. A jumble of bags in all colours and sizes filled the space and she bent around him, her eyes searching the pile.
“There, that red one over there.”
With a heaving grunt, the bus driver pulled her bag from the hold, setting it at her feet next to the others, with a thud.
“That everything?” he asked, his face a harried question. Clearly, he wanted to be on his way.
“Yep. Thanks.”
“Okay, well good luck then, girlie.” With a wave, he climbed into the bus and hoisted the door closed before hopping into his seat. Flicking the indicator to life, he steered the bus back onto the highway.
After watching the bus drive away, Lacey stood for a minute. She gazed up and down the road, her eyes taking in every detail. It had been six years since she’d been in Angel’s Bend, but the town looked the same. Flame trees in bloom decorated Main Street, their tangerine spiked flowers reaching to the sky. May’s Beauty Shop, still pink with lavender trim along the verandah, advertised an eyebrow wax and tint special. Down the length of empty street, the bridge crossing the Seraphim River stood strong and proud, its current edging towards an unknown destination. It was as if she’d walked into a time warp, the place was like it had been when she was a kid. And probably just as boring. At least she wouldn’t get lost on her way to Aunt Beth’s.
Lacey looked down at the suitcases, stuffed to overflowing with her most prized possessions and clothes. What the hell was she meant to do now? Carry them, she supposed. Aunt Beth had said to call but she didn’t want to put anyone out. She knew her aunt would still be working at that time of the day.
Hoisting her duffel bag over her shoulder and stretching out her suitcase handle, Lacey stacked her other bags on top and headed south, crossing at Jackson’s Hardware. Passing Heavenly Aroma Café she noticed it had only one patron. Jock’s Music shop looked dead as a doornail, too. Even the supermarket was empty. What had she done? Had coming here been a big mistake? The quicker she got to Aunt Beth’s the sooner she could ring Dad and tell him she was on her way back. Art School was a stupid idea. She’d be just as happy staying on the farm with him.
Three blocks later, arms aching from pulling her luggage, Lacey stopped across the road from the Angel’s Bend Bookshop. Standing as it always had, its blue and white painted façade hidden under the eyebrows of a verandah covered in wisteria, it was a cheerful haven in this world of times gone by. A large sign filling the window indicated that, if nothing else had happened in six years, Aunt Beth had at least moved with the times. Angel’s Bend Bookshop now sold coffee to those who wished to sit and browse before they bought. And they had free wifi. Lacey smiled to herself. Facebook. Twitter. Skype. A glimmer of modernity to keep her sane.
Pausing at the kerb, Lacey watched a lone car speed down the road in front of her, pulling to a halt in an empty parking space near May’s.
Damn one horse town, she thought, noting her now muddied feet with disgust and lifting one to shake the water away. From underneath, something colourful appeared stuck to her sole. Intrigued, she let go of her suitcase to peel it off. It was a tarot card with a picture of a queen. An upside down queen dressed in gilt and looking sombre. Weird. Rubbing the card dry, Lacey pocketed it, determining to find out what it meant. Not that she believed in any of that tarot stuff. Load of crap, really. But she knew someone who did, and she was waiting on the other side of the street in that shop. Stepping out onto the road, Lacey crossed and headed towards the bookshop that belonged to Aunt Beth.
Pushing the timber door open, Lacey heard the tinkle of the bell above it announce her arrival. She paused and breathed in the scene. For mid summer, it was a chilly day and the corner of the Victorian building housed a fireplace, stacked with logs crackling in the grate. An amber glow spread over the room, laying its fingers over books on neatly ordered shelves, housing all manner of titles. Fiction, travel, gardening, dressmaking. She wondered briefly if Aunt Beth had any good books on photography or art. Maybe she could get a couple of new novels. She’d always loved to read but in the eight months since the accident she’d denied herself the pleasure of books, her guilt semi-satisfied with this self-imposed punishment.
Dad had been concerned of course, at her erratic behaviour. He couldn’t find a way to break through. She hadn’t wanted him to. The move to Angel’s Bend had been his last hope that his daughter would return to him. Dad missed that happy girl, the one who’d loved to gallop over the paddocks with him to check on the sheep. They’d been so close then, shared so much and things hadn’t been the same since they’d stopped riding together. Lacey knew that.
“It’s a fresh start, Lace,” Dad had said, as they sat at the dinner table just before Christmas. “No one but Aunt Beth knows what happened. No one needs to know, if you don’t want to tell them. All they need to know is that you’re coming to Angel’s Bend High to finish your schooling. Despite the fact that it’s a small town, its art program has one of the best reputations in the South West. It’s the perfect stepping stone if you want to get into Art School to do that degree.” His face was serious. He looked as if he didn’t know his daughter anymore. “You do still want to go to Art School in the city?”
“Of course I do, Dad,” Lacey said. “I’m just not sure that I’m ready to face a whole new community of nosy people.”
“You don’t have to be friends with them, Lace. Just work hard, get good grades and make a new start. That’s all. Aunt Beth is so excited that you’re coming. She’s repainting the spare room for you as we speak.”
Oh Geez. Lacey could imagine the pink and purple colour scheme she’d probably arrive to. The last time she’d seen Aunt Beth she’d been wearing some sort of rainbow tie dyed creation and her birthday gifts often bordered on bizarre. But Lacey wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t need to be bribed to do the right thing with a fairy doona cover. “I don’t need a new room, Dad. I’m going to go. I was merely making a point that I don’t want to.”
“Aunt Beth will take good care of you. And I’m only a phone call away.”
And maybe that was best - Dad being a phone call away. Every time he looked at her, Lacey saw the hurt. She knew he blamed her.
Lacey craned her neck around a few of the ceiling high rows of books. “Hello? Aunt Beth?”
“Lacey, baby. You’re here.”
Coming in from the back room, Aunt Beth put a stack of books down on the counter. Her hazel eyes fell to Lacey’s bags. “You silly child. Why didn’t you call out? I told you to ring when you got off the bus. Those bags must’ve been awfully heavy.”
Lacey gave a small smile that disappeared into her Aunt’s strong embrace. Pulling back she said, “Its okay. I only had to walk a few hundred metres. I lost my Mum, not my legs.”
Aunt Beth ignored the comment. “Right. Well lets get those bags into the back and you can sit here and tell me all about what’s been happening at home. How’s your Dad coping? Is that wretched Lucille still trying to win his heart with baked dinners?”
Rolling Lacey’s suitcases behind her, Aunt Beth led her out to the small office. Lacey followed, plonking her backpack in the corner next to the suitcases. She sat down at an old timber table, its surface covered in stories of years past.
“He’s fine, I s’pose. He’s got more stock out in the back paddocks and he’s trying his hand at growing raspberries and blueberries.”
“Your Dad? A fruit farmer? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“He wants to diversify and after the accident, I think he wanted a new start, a new interest. Berries are completely foreign to him but he’s enjoying it. It takes his mind off things.”
Like her behaviour for one thing. After Mum had died in the car accident on her way home from collecting the mail one afternoon, Lacey had gone into a downward spiral. And being seventeen, her Dad had no idea how to cope. He was deep enough in his own grief. A wayward daughter had almost tipped him over the edge.
“So Lucille’s gone? That woman was bad news with her big hair and heaving bosom.”
“Yep. I think she finally got the hint when she popped over to find Mrs Butterworth sitting down with us, eating one of Dad’s stews. He never needed Lucille’s help, he was just too nice to tell her to nick off.”
Aunt Beth pushed a mug of green tea in front of Lacey. “You do still drink it don’t you?” she asked, indicating the steaming cup.
Lacey sipped. “Yep. Though I’m more into peppermint and the other herbal teas these days.”
“Well, after we settle you in we’ll make a list and pop over to the supermarket. You need to have the things you love.”
“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“Oh honey, it’s no trouble, believe me. This is your home for the next year and as such, I’ll be expecting you to pull your weight. A few packets of tea and some toiletries won’t be putting me out.”
Well, thought Lacey. Guess that’s that. Let’s just hope the bedroom wasn’t pink and purple.
Putting her backpack down on the footpath and stuffing the novel she’d been reading into it, Lacey Green waited as the bus driver opened the metal compartment in the side of the bus to retrieve her suitcase. A jumble of bags in all colours and sizes filled the space and she bent around him, her eyes searching the pile.
“There, that red one over there.”
With a heaving grunt, the bus driver pulled her bag from the hold, setting it at her feet next to the others, with a thud.
“That everything?” he asked, his face a harried question. Clearly, he wanted to be on his way.
“Yep. Thanks.”
“Okay, well good luck then, girlie.” With a wave, he climbed into the bus and hoisted the door closed before hopping into his seat. Flicking the indicator to life, he steered the bus back onto the highway.
After watching the bus drive away, Lacey stood for a minute. She gazed up and down the road, her eyes taking in every detail. It had been six years since she’d been in Angel’s Bend, but the town looked the same. Flame trees in bloom decorated Main Street, their tangerine spiked flowers reaching to the sky. May’s Beauty Shop, still pink with lavender trim along the verandah, advertised an eyebrow wax and tint special. Down the length of empty street, the bridge crossing the Seraphim River stood strong and proud, its current edging towards an unknown destination. It was as if she’d walked into a time warp, the place was like it had been when she was a kid. And probably just as boring. At least she wouldn’t get lost on her way to Aunt Beth’s.
Lacey looked down at the suitcases, stuffed to overflowing with her most prized possessions and clothes. What the hell was she meant to do now? Carry them, she supposed. Aunt Beth had said to call but she didn’t want to put anyone out. She knew her aunt would still be working at that time of the day.
Hoisting her duffel bag over her shoulder and stretching out her suitcase handle, Lacey stacked her other bags on top and headed south, crossing at Jackson’s Hardware. Passing Heavenly Aroma Café she noticed it had only one patron. Jock’s Music shop looked dead as a doornail, too. Even the supermarket was empty. What had she done? Had coming here been a big mistake? The quicker she got to Aunt Beth’s the sooner she could ring Dad and tell him she was on her way back. Art School was a stupid idea. She’d be just as happy staying on the farm with him.
Three blocks later, arms aching from pulling her luggage, Lacey stopped across the road from the Angel’s Bend Bookshop. Standing as it always had, its blue and white painted façade hidden under the eyebrows of a verandah covered in wisteria, it was a cheerful haven in this world of times gone by. A large sign filling the window indicated that, if nothing else had happened in six years, Aunt Beth had at least moved with the times. Angel’s Bend Bookshop now sold coffee to those who wished to sit and browse before they bought. And they had free wifi. Lacey smiled to herself. Facebook. Twitter. Skype. A glimmer of modernity to keep her sane.
Pausing at the kerb, Lacey watched a lone car speed down the road in front of her, pulling to a halt in an empty parking space near May’s.
Damn one horse town, she thought, noting her now muddied feet with disgust and lifting one to shake the water away. From underneath, something colourful appeared stuck to her sole. Intrigued, she let go of her suitcase to peel it off. It was a tarot card with a picture of a queen. An upside down queen dressed in gilt and looking sombre. Weird. Rubbing the card dry, Lacey pocketed it, determining to find out what it meant. Not that she believed in any of that tarot stuff. Load of crap, really. But she knew someone who did, and she was waiting on the other side of the street in that shop. Stepping out onto the road, Lacey crossed and headed towards the bookshop that belonged to Aunt Beth.
Pushing the timber door open, Lacey heard the tinkle of the bell above it announce her arrival. She paused and breathed in the scene. For mid summer, it was a chilly day and the corner of the Victorian building housed a fireplace, stacked with logs crackling in the grate. An amber glow spread over the room, laying its fingers over books on neatly ordered shelves, housing all manner of titles. Fiction, travel, gardening, dressmaking. She wondered briefly if Aunt Beth had any good books on photography or art. Maybe she could get a couple of new novels. She’d always loved to read but in the eight months since the accident she’d denied herself the pleasure of books, her guilt semi-satisfied with this self-imposed punishment.
Dad had been concerned of course, at her erratic behaviour. He couldn’t find a way to break through. She hadn’t wanted him to. The move to Angel’s Bend had been his last hope that his daughter would return to him. Dad missed that happy girl, the one who’d loved to gallop over the paddocks with him to check on the sheep. They’d been so close then, shared so much and things hadn’t been the same since they’d stopped riding together. Lacey knew that.
“It’s a fresh start, Lace,” Dad had said, as they sat at the dinner table just before Christmas. “No one but Aunt Beth knows what happened. No one needs to know, if you don’t want to tell them. All they need to know is that you’re coming to Angel’s Bend High to finish your schooling. Despite the fact that it’s a small town, its art program has one of the best reputations in the South West. It’s the perfect stepping stone if you want to get into Art School to do that degree.” His face was serious. He looked as if he didn’t know his daughter anymore. “You do still want to go to Art School in the city?”
“Of course I do, Dad,” Lacey said. “I’m just not sure that I’m ready to face a whole new community of nosy people.”
“You don’t have to be friends with them, Lace. Just work hard, get good grades and make a new start. That’s all. Aunt Beth is so excited that you’re coming. She’s repainting the spare room for you as we speak.”
Oh Geez. Lacey could imagine the pink and purple colour scheme she’d probably arrive to. The last time she’d seen Aunt Beth she’d been wearing some sort of rainbow tie dyed creation and her birthday gifts often bordered on bizarre. But Lacey wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t need to be bribed to do the right thing with a fairy doona cover. “I don’t need a new room, Dad. I’m going to go. I was merely making a point that I don’t want to.”
“Aunt Beth will take good care of you. And I’m only a phone call away.”
And maybe that was best - Dad being a phone call away. Every time he looked at her, Lacey saw the hurt. She knew he blamed her.
Lacey craned her neck around a few of the ceiling high rows of books. “Hello? Aunt Beth?”
“Lacey, baby. You’re here.”
Coming in from the back room, Aunt Beth put a stack of books down on the counter. Her hazel eyes fell to Lacey’s bags. “You silly child. Why didn’t you call out? I told you to ring when you got off the bus. Those bags must’ve been awfully heavy.”
Lacey gave a small smile that disappeared into her Aunt’s strong embrace. Pulling back she said, “Its okay. I only had to walk a few hundred metres. I lost my Mum, not my legs.”
Aunt Beth ignored the comment. “Right. Well lets get those bags into the back and you can sit here and tell me all about what’s been happening at home. How’s your Dad coping? Is that wretched Lucille still trying to win his heart with baked dinners?”
Rolling Lacey’s suitcases behind her, Aunt Beth led her out to the small office. Lacey followed, plonking her backpack in the corner next to the suitcases. She sat down at an old timber table, its surface covered in stories of years past.
“He’s fine, I s’pose. He’s got more stock out in the back paddocks and he’s trying his hand at growing raspberries and blueberries.”
“Your Dad? A fruit farmer? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“He wants to diversify and after the accident, I think he wanted a new start, a new interest. Berries are completely foreign to him but he’s enjoying it. It takes his mind off things.”
Like her behaviour for one thing. After Mum had died in the car accident on her way home from collecting the mail one afternoon, Lacey had gone into a downward spiral. And being seventeen, her Dad had no idea how to cope. He was deep enough in his own grief. A wayward daughter had almost tipped him over the edge.
“So Lucille’s gone? That woman was bad news with her big hair and heaving bosom.”
“Yep. I think she finally got the hint when she popped over to find Mrs Butterworth sitting down with us, eating one of Dad’s stews. He never needed Lucille’s help, he was just too nice to tell her to nick off.”
Aunt Beth pushed a mug of green tea in front of Lacey. “You do still drink it don’t you?” she asked, indicating the steaming cup.
Lacey sipped. “Yep. Though I’m more into peppermint and the other herbal teas these days.”
“Well, after we settle you in we’ll make a list and pop over to the supermarket. You need to have the things you love.”
“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“Oh honey, it’s no trouble, believe me. This is your home for the next year and as such, I’ll be expecting you to pull your weight. A few packets of tea and some toiletries won’t be putting me out.”
Well, thought Lacey. Guess that’s that. Let’s just hope the bedroom wasn’t pink and purple.
