Page 31 of The Side Road
‘Of course. The same time next week,’ Mia continued. ‘If you have a special project or you’re stuck on something, bring it in and we can work on it together. I’m going to need a deposit. Fifty dollars.’
Pleased with herself, she had made her intentions clear and matched his advance with a clever rebuff. He would fold; there was no other choice.
Promptly, he took out his wallet and handed over his credit card.
After taking the card, she turned it over in her hand. ‘You’re sure about this?’
He nodded. A charming smile followed.
She tapped the card and recorded the sale. ‘You’ll receive a reminder. Cancelanytime.’
‘Do I need to bring anything?’ He was better at this than she was.
‘A notebook and a pen. You can take photos or videos if you…if you want.’ This was a rote response, and she reprimanded herself for not concentrating. Colour rose in her cheeks. Confounded, she had nothing more to say and could only stare. He slipped on his Valentino hand-tailored virgin wool jacket and walked out the door.
Outside,Oliver reclined in the driver’s seat of his car. The woman was like a flower that needed hours of sunshine before it opened, but someone had planted her in perpetual shade. He wondered why goosebumps on a woman’s legs were so attractive.
Imagining her beside him, showing him how to use the needles, was an enticing scenario. The two of them, head-to-head, studying the knots. Faces so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. She might even touch his hand, her fingers lingering on his. It was tempting to see where it might lead, but he wouldn’t go through with the lesson.
After closing both his fists, he opened them quickly. ‘Boom.’ His heart was exploding. But he would reschedulethe lesson. Find a time more suitable for Tash and apologise for the confusion, saying something about not being across his daughter’s schedule. Although seventy dollars wasn’t a bad hourly rate. It was a fair price. What she offered was a speciality service. She didn’t undervalue her time or her skills, and he liked that.
He understood the power of yarn craft. Handmade goods in a world run by invisible algorithms were more valuable than ever. He also enjoyed making things with his hands, and he thought he could fix almost anything, like the way she could knit anything.
He could easily spend another day in the storeroom. Did she leave the cupboard doors open on purpose? Even after he had closed them, she reopened them and then left them ajar.
10
TREASURE HUNT
The problemwith rural communities wasn’t just the lack of services, the poor infrastructure, the appalling slow internet speed, and the sporadic bus timetable; it was the isolation. What did people do in this place? As Oliver finished his morning coffee on the front veranda, he looked left and then right down the street. Nothing moved.
Surrounded by suburban three-bedroom houses on large blocks, he was struck by how quiet it was. Silence reigned: No dogs barked. No children were riding bikes along the footpath. No sounds of music or TVs delivering sunrise programs directly into kitchens and living rooms. Not even a car. Morning birds were singing somewhere else. Perhaps they avoided the suburban valley area of town, instead choosing to inhabit the hills. If he were a bird, that’s where he would live, up in the hills.
Peaceful, he thought, if he didn’t feel so alone.
While Oliver could sit and gaze into the distance for an indeterminate period, he normally did this at the end of the day, usually with a beer in his hand. Staring into space firstthing in the morning while wondering what to do with himself was disheartening.
He had met a few of his neighbours. Familiar faces aligned with vague facts. Gary (two doors down) taught guitar. Celia (from across the road) was an artist. Mike and Helen from next door were retired. For Carol and Linda (five doors down), their Eagle Nest property was a weekender. A place to escape corporate life in Sydney. Both former teachers, they were involved in policymaking. Generous conversationalists, Oliver thought the couple might be his best bet if he wanted a political discussion. Like himself, they were optimists, and he couldn’t say that about all the residents of Eagle Nest.
An array of illnesses (little aches and pains), bad weather, garden maintenance, the cost of petrol, and everything else, plagued his neighbours. When Mike from next door said, ‘What about kids these days?’ Oliver had pretended something was burning on the stove (it wasn’t an outright lie; something could have been burning on the stove). As far as he could tell, youth culture hadn’t changed, and this generation faced some hefty obstacles.
Casting his eyes over the parsonage property, Oliver realised it could do with some attention. Overgrown wattle trees lined the side fence. He could cut those back. No time like the present, and seizing the moment, he got to his feet, then he hesitated. It was Sunday morning; the neighbours might not appreciate the sound of power tools. He returned to his seat. In four hours, his treasure-hunt team would arrive. What was he going to do until then?
Dinner crossed his mind. Steak last night, so sausages and salad tonight. Chicken on Monday. Perhaps he could tackle a roast on Tuesday. Or lamb kofta on the barbecue, that sounded easier. He imagined some people thought aboutdinner first thing in the morning; usually he wasn’t one of them. If he made some noise, Tash might wake up and, since it was the weekend, he could cook her a full breakfast. His daughter rising early was an unlikely scenario. If he had a dog, he might take it for a walk. But he wasn’t going to wander the streets alone.
In the distance, a kookaburra laughed. Not all the birds had abandoned the town. He decided to put on a load of washing. After that, he would unpack the dishwasher, make himself another coffee, and tackle the weekend papers.
Blanche and Leoarrived at ten. The neighbour, Mike, climbed through the gap in the side fence and was quick to explain that Helen couldn’t make it because she was getting her hair done and the appointment couldn’t be moved. Unfortunately, Carol and Linda (five doors down) sent their apologies; they were in the city this weekend. This was disappointing, as policymakers in education they would have to be skilled at finding concealed money. Arthur arrived with Troublemaker Flora, who was turning out to be less trouble than her reputation suggested. Oliver wasn’t aware that Arthur or Flora had been invited, but everyone was welcome.
Gathered with Tash on the front veranda, Oliver realised they had all brought gloves. Flora was tying a scarf around her hair. He admired their preparedness. Though the average age of the treasure-hunting group was seventy-five, a jovial and anticipatory mood prevailed.
‘What does two hundred thousand in cash look like?’ Mike asked.
No one knew the answer. Would it fit into a briefcase? A sports bag? A washing basket? The boot of a Mini Hatch?
Oliver did a quick calculation. If the money were in one-hundred-dollar bills, there would be two thousand notes.
‘It would fill a shoebox,’ he told them.
