The Goodbye Girl Page 2

  “I do.” Gathering the hair into a dustpan, she tipped into the little bin in the corner of the room.

  “You’d have to experience a UFO sighting to truly understand, dear.” Patting Maryanne’s hand with a propriety air, Charlotte stood up and walked across to the counter.

  Ringing up the sale, Bree gave her the change, not in the least surprised when Charlotte leaned forward to whisper confidentially, “We must have a coffee soon, chat about our otherworldly experiences.”

  Bree smiled noncommittally.

  As soon as the door swung shut behind Charlotte, Bella laughed. “Oh, you are evil, Bree.”

  “Why?”

  “Leading Charlotte on like that.”

  “Who said I was leading her on?”

  Maryanne snorted.

  Tidying up the little cart contain the hair curlers, brushes, spray bottle, hair spray, clips and scissors, Bree said, “I believe in a lot of things, Maryanne.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not a bit.” Smiling widely, Bree glanced at her watch. “Okay, Bella, that’s me for the day. You okay if I go now?”

  “Well, sure.” Bella looked at her. “Really? UFOs?”

  “Now me.” Bree pointed at herself. “I’m a true believer.” Slinging the strap of her little shoulder bag over her shoulder, she said cheerfully, “Toodles, ladies!”

  As the door shut behind her and she stepped down onto the footpath, Bree had no doubt that Maryanne and Bella were now discussing her and the very ludicrous thought of UFOs. It didn’t worry her. The only thing she was really interested in was checking out the area where Charlotte claimed to have seen it.

  After stopping at Maryanne’s café for a Diet Coke, Bree drove out of the little town of Whicha, enjoying the scent of rain in the air and the gathering dark clouds. She loved rain, loved the autumn turning to winter. Everything was green and fresh.

  She’d lived in places that were a hell of a whole lot less green and fresh.

  Passing the private roads leading to the farms, Bree drummed her fingers lightly on the steering wheel. She liked Whicha, loved the small town and the friendly people, and the very vibe of it screamed home. In her childhood, she’d never lived in one place long enough to call home, the only time she had was during her hairdressing apprenticeship, and even then her mother had dragged her away whenever she had a free day or weekend on UFO and other hunts for the unexplained.

  Smiling, she picked the small bottle of Diet Coke out of the cup holder and took a couple of mouthfuls. She did miss her Mum.

  Coming around a bend in the road, she saw the field that Charlotte had mentioned, recognising it by the scarecrow that stood in the field. The bright red shirt was hard to miss.

  Now one thing she didn’t like was scarecrows. Her nose crinkled as she grimaced.

  Turning another bend, she saw the parking bay on the side of the road and pulled into it, braking the van and turning it off. Getting out, she stretched leisurely before shutting the door and walking around to the front of the van, leaning back against the warm bonnet to gaze at the surroundings.

  Fields, roads, bush. Plants. Grey skies. Good view. She looked across the field. Yep, at this angle, Charlotte would have been able to see across the field to where she saw whatever the light was that she saw.

  Getting back into the van, she pulled out of the parking bay and followed the country road around the field, coming out on the other side and pulling up on the side of the road. The sound of the country filled the air. Insects, the lowing of a cow somewhere, a farm house in the distance, the far off drone of possibly a two seater plane, and the soft rustle of the breeze picking up strength as it scudded through the bushes on the side of the road.

  She’d have to come out tonight, see if she could spot any lights that were unexplained, but meanwhile she wanted to check if any planes had been in the sky the night Charlotte claimed to have seen her UFO.

  Getting back into the van, she turned around and headed back to town. Along the way, she called in to see if Harly had finished making the tunic she’d ordered.

  Oh, how she loved Harly Lawson’s house. Old fashioned, big veranda, roses, a welcoming light in the window. She planned to buy a house very similar, in fact, she had her eyes on the old house on the other side of town. It was just a matter of deciding if she was going to take the plunge and buy, settle down, do the whole live-in-one-town thing. She wanted to, needed to, had the urge to send down roots and become part of a small, happy community.

  “You going to be sitting out there all night?”

  Glancing up, Bree saw her friend standing on the veranda.

  “Just thinking.” Picking up her shoulder bag, she held the strap in one hand as she climbed the steps to follow Harly into the house.

  “Did you pull a muscle?”

  “Did you get shagged senseless?”

  Harly blushed, but her grin and sparkling-eyed gaze flashed over her shoulder. “Yep.”

  “And is Alex sleeping the sleep of the exhausted?”

  Opening the door to the sewing room, Harly led Bree inside. “Alex has stamina, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “No details?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a little bit?”

  “No.” Harly picked up a folded cloth bundle.

  “I think I can figure it out anyway, going by your bowed legs.”

  Laughing, Harly thrust the folded cloth at her. “Get your dirty mind out of my business and try on your tunic.”

  Diverted, Bree shook the cloth open to stare in awe at the soft yellow tunic with the black lace around the neckline and wrists. The material was soft, warm, the neckline high to circle the throat, the sleeves long. Black lace ran down the front of the tunic from neck to hem. “Oh, Harly, this is beautiful!”

  “Try it on,” Harly instructed. “You can use the spare room, there’s a mirror in there. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll come in to check the fit.”

  Bree didn’t have to be asked twice. In the spare bedroom, she quickly slid her cardigan and work blouse off before pulling the tunic over her head and settling it down past her ample hips.

  Oh, it was beautiful. Somehow, Harly had designed it so that it outlined Bree’s generous bust before dipping in to show a graceful waist before it came back out to drape over her equally generous hips and flowed down to mid thigh.

  Standing side on, Bree marvelled at Harly’s sewing skills. Somehow, she’d angled the tunic enough so that even though it couldn’t help but curve over her ample derriere, the hem stayed level all the way around instead of hitching up at the back as a lot of plus-sized tops and dresses did when they had to drape over bigger-than-accepted bottoms. It would look totally awesome worn with dark leggings.

  “Ready,” she called out, and Harly entered, standing back and studying the tunic critically.

  Yeah, her friend could wield a mean needle, and her plus-size clothes were in demand by larger-than-average women from far a-field of Whicha. In fact, Harly’s sister-in-law, Cindy, was always trying to concoct some way to tempt Harly into going into the family business with her plus-size clothes, but Harly still refused, bypassing money and fame for the pleasure of making clothes personally for those who found her through word-of-mouth.

  Being a big woman herself, Harly knew what faced other women when it came to shopping for clothes, and she’d gone from making her own to making clothes for those who asked her. Bree thought she was a Godsend.

  Making her turn slowly, Harly studied the tunic before she nodded her head in satisfaction. “All finished, Bree.”

  “This is gorgeous.” Bree admired the tunic once more in the mirror before she carefully took it off. “Can I order another one? In pale blue this time?”

  “Sure.” Harly folded the tunic while Bree slid on her blouse. “But first I have four other orders to do.”

  “Yeah, but I’m your friend. Doesn’t that give me first dibs?”

  Harly looked at her.

 
; Bree sighed. “Sometimes you’re so fair, it’s unfair.”

  Grinning, Harly handed her the tunic. “Want a cup of tea or something?”

  “Thanks, but I have to get home to Sheba and Bast, see if the house is still standing.” Bree winked. “Besides, don’t you and Alex have plans to - you know?” She thrust her hips forward suggestively.

  “Can you do that again?” A deep voice queried from the doorway. “I didn’t quite get it.”

  Oops. Turning, Bree saw Harly’s husband for the first time. His photos didn’t do him justice. Tall, military-short blonde hair, muscular, handsome, and so friendly she relaxed immediately. The twinkle in his eyes was an open statement of amusement at her actions.

  “You must be Alex.” Crossing the room, she held out a hand. “I’m Bree.”

  “I kind of figured that.” Grinning, Alex shook her hand.

  “Oh?”

  “Harly mentioned you in her letters.”

  “Bragging about our friendship, was she?”

  “Ahhh…”

  Harly smacked his shoulder lightly. “Be nice.”

  “I’m always nice to ladies.” Alex slid one arm around Harly’s ample waist, pulling her into his side to drop a kiss on top of her head. “I’m especially nice to you.”

  Harly laughed.

  Standing in front of them, Bree couldn’t help but notice the love in their eyes, the way he held Harly as though she was a fragile piece of china instead of a very hearty, generously proportioned woman.

  Alex was a man in a million, no doubt about it. Harly was a lucky woman.

  Then again, Harly was a lovely, kind woman, and Alex was lucky to have her, too.

  Bree could make a cake with all the sweetness in her thoughts. She grinned.

  “Feel free to stay for a cuppa.” Alex’s eyes twinkled. “You have time. I’m currently recuperating.”

  “Alex!” Harly blushed.

  “For round two?” Bree queried. “Hang on, you’ve been back how long…?” She started counting on her fingers.

  “Never mind that.” Harly grabbed her hand. “You two are obviously a bad influence on each other.”

  “A week,” Alex said helpfully, eyes dancing with laughter.

  “And you’re recuperating now? I’m kind of disappointed.” Bree sighed. “I thought you soldier boys had stamina.”

  “Seven days, seven nights, twenty four hours day,” he replied blandly. “You do the maths.”

  “No, you don’t do the maths.” Harly pulled away from him. “Bree, would you like a drink?”

  “Alas, no.” Bree shook her head. “I have plans.”

  “Date?” Harly queried curiously.

  With aliens. “You could say that.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “I strongly doubt it.”

  “I haven’t noticed any strangers in town.”

  “You know everyone in town?”

  “I grew up here.”

  “I think that trumps you,” Alex said.

  “I think you’re right.” Bree pulled her purse from her bag. “How much do I owe you, Queen Seamstress?” Paying the fee, she put the purse back in the bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Okay, I better go. You and Alex have things to do.” Wink. “And I have things to do.” Another wink. “But not the same things.”

  Harly rolled her eyes.

  “You’re so thoughtful,” Alex said. “But don’t feel you have to run on my account.”

  Bree raised her eyebrows as she tucked the folded tunic under her arm. “Because you’re recuperating?”

  “Yep. You still have another oh…” He glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “Ten minutes? Then I’m good to go.”

  “Wow. Ten minutes. I am disa-”

  “Geez!” Grabbing her arm, Harly dragged her out of the lounge room.

  Alex’s laughter followed them down the hallway.

  Harly was anything but annoyed, Bree could see that by the blush in her cheeks and her sparkling eyes, but her friend managed to maintain a severe expression.

  “Now, you’re still coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Dinner?” Bree looked blankly at her.

  Harly sighed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  “What? No! I would never forget.” Guiltily, Bree glanced around. “Seven o’clock, right?”

  “Six.”

  “Six, seven, they’re both so close, right?”

  “Six o’clock tomorrow night, right here. Don’t forget.”

  “I wouldn’t forget.” Bree smiled widely.

  Harly just looked her up and down.

  “I’ll be here. It’s on my calendar at home. I wouldn’t have forgotten. In fact…” Bree poked her gently in the shoulder. “I was just checking that you hadn’t forgotten.”

  “Bree,” Harly said patiently, “go home.”

  “I’m insulted.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Right. Toodles!” Bree waved her hand and ran down the steps.

  The cool breeze was turning colder, the nip in the air climbing right under the hem of her slacks to creep up her calves. Slamming the door to the old van, she turned on the engine and switched on the heater. Unfortunately, it would take a few minutes to heat up and by the time she got warm she’d be home.

  A last wave to a smiling Harly, and she drove down the drive and out onto the road, turning back towards town.

  Right. Dinner tomorrow night at Harly’s, six o’clock. She better make sure she wasn’t late. They’d made the dinner date a few weeks before, not knowing until later that Alex’s friend was arriving the same day. Harly insisted on keeping the dinner date as a simple gathering of a couple of friends.

  Bree would have been alarmed if she didn’t know that Harly wasn’t the kind of person to set up her single friends. Knowing there was no pressure, she was certain she’d enjoy herself. All she knew of Alex’s friend was that he was a soldier and was going to be staying with them for awhile.

  Hmmmm, maybe he’d know something about the lights in the sky, if it was experimental fighter jets or something else. She’d have to see if she could pump Alex and his friend for a little information.

  Meanwhile, she had her own contacts.

  Zipping through town to the other side where the houses were well spread apart on four acre lots, she turned off the highway into the winding driveway of her rental and studied the house. Old, built of stone and wood, wrap-around veranda. One passage down the middle with the rooms opening off each side and the kitchen and dining room taking up the whole back of the house. The back veranda was built in with netting, providing a shelter of sorts, and she’d decided she could drag a stretcher out there on warm summer nights and snooze. Awesome.

  This was the house she had her eye on to buy. Turning off the motor, she sat in the silence, listening to the birds twittering in the fading light. Big, old rose bushes grew along the cracked footpath, and old vines wove their way around the veranda post. An old swing chair swayed slightly in the breeze that was rapidly turning into a wind. Trees to the side of the house and a little further away shook their branches, leaves tumbling down to skitter along the wild grass that grew abundantly.

  She should probably see someone about trimming the grass and trees.

  Behind the house was an old barn containing a rusted tractor. Contentedly, Bree’s gaze drifted along the house. Big windows, faded curtains. She’d actually bought furniture that though it was new, was old-fashioned. It suited the house.

  Yep, as soon as Mr Tinsdale decided on a price for the house, she was putting in an offer. She wanted this house.

  The curtain in the lounge window shifted and the slim shape of a cat pushed its way through to sit on the window sill and stare out at her.

  Sheba or Bast, she wasn’t sure in the dimness of gathering dusk, but no doubt about it, whichever girl it was, she was waiting for her dinner.

  Getting out of the car, she looked at the sky. Clouds blocked off the moon and s
he could taste the rain in the air. It wouldn’t be long and it would rain. Not a particularly good night for a UFO watch, but then one could never predict when they’d come out to play.

  Or probe.

  Those little grey men did love to probe. No orifice was safe from them. Putting things up, planting things in, they’d do it all. Talk about not being fussy…or maybe that was talk about being perverted.

  Laughing quietly, Bree ran across to the veranda and up the steps just as rain started to patter down. Loving it, she turned to watch as the light drops turned heavier. The sound on the tin roof of the veranda was magic.

  Taking in a deep breath, she sighed happily before turning to unlock the door and be greeted by Bast and Sheba.

  Big blue eyes looked out of a seal face, little seal paws padding along the hallway runner and long, thin tail straight up in the air as Sheba trotted daintily towards her. Then she opened her mouth.

  The yowl would have stripped paint off the walls. It was just so wrong that such a screech could come from such a dainty bit of Siamese.

  There came a thump, a scrabble, and then Bast came running out of the lounge room, scrabbling on the wood floor until she hit the hallway runner, where she gripped and skidded to a halt before proceeding to sit and slurp on one blue paw, pretending that she hadn’t been the one scrabbling clumsily around the doorway.

  “Yeah, sure,” Bree said dryly.

  Bast blinked and looked away, blue nose in the air.

  Sheba squawked.

  Definitely time for dinner.

  Feeding the two Siamese was the first order of the day before Bree had a shower, washing the combined scents of dyes, lotions and other chemicals off her skin. No doubt she actually didn’t have any on her, but she always felt as though she’d bathed in it by the time she knocked off work.

  Wrapped in a dressing gown, she sat on the sofa and checked through her phone book for her friends, the UFO Hunter Team. Dialling their number on the landline, she settled back on the sofa.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice came through the receiver.

  “Jackie, its Bree.”

  “What’s the password?”

  Paranoia had nothing on the UFO Hunter Team. “Bigfoot’s boffing the troll.”