Page 5 of The Side Road
‘Okay. Let’s go inside.’
Tash scurried up the path.
‘No, no, you go right ahead,’ he called after her. ‘I’ll manage the luggage by myself.’
On the porch, Tash swung on her heels. She rolled her eyes and stomped back down the path. Oliver handed her his laptop satchel. After taking it, she marched toward the house and left the bag inside the front door. Oliver followed. He placed his cases on the floor, hung his suit on the coat stand, and closed the door behind him.
From the far end, Leo entered the hallway. ‘Oliver, hooray.’ He raised his hands in the air. ‘Glad you could make it.’
Ignoring Leo’s outstretched hand, Oliver came in for a bear hug. Off guard, Leo managed an awkward side embrace. Oliver slapped him on the back. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
Leo pulled away and held Oliver at arm’s length. ‘You look a little worse for wear. Been out shagging around? On the booze, picking up women?’ Leo cuffed Oliver good-naturedly on the shoulder. ‘Because if you had been, the old witch probably died just to piss you off.’
‘Leo!’ Blanche entered the hallway. ‘Elsie was family. I won’t hear a bad word,’ she said.
‘Now that she’s dead, you can’t say anything bad about her,’ Leo whispered. ‘But two days ago, you could have calledher the Wicked Witch of the West and no one would have cared. Or disagreed.’
‘Stop that.’ Blanche scowled. She turned to Oliver. ‘Reverend Rebecca just arrived…through the back door. Do you think that’s odd?’
Oliver shrugged. He wasn’t qualified to judge.
‘I’ve left her in the kitchen.’ Blanche kissed Oliver on the cheek. ‘Darling, how are you? You don’t look too bad for a grieving son-in-law.’ She walked down the hall. Oliver and Leo followed.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but the neighbours are popping over,’ Blanche continued. ‘Arthur Ferguson wanted to drop in and give his condolences. He might bring Flora. Do you remember Arthur?’
‘Lives on West Street up by the water tower. He used to own the newsagency before it closed. I’m not sure about Flora?’
‘Watch yourself around her, she’s a troublemaker.’ Blanche gave him a stern look. ‘Helen and Barry from next door said they’d check in. I thought it best if everyone came at once – get it over and done with rather than spread it out over several days.’
The doorbell rang. Blanche raised a finger. Spinning around, she walked back to the front door. Stepping aside, Leo entered the living room where guests were enjoying tea and cake. Oliver had no idea who they were.
He continued to the kitchen, where he found Reverend Rebecca, a cup of tea in one hand and an antique teaspoon in the other. After admiring the religious art piece, which was part of a set mounted on the kitchen wall, she turned to Oliver. ‘These look antique,’ she said. ‘Very nice.’
Oliver didn’t respond. He thought teaspoons werefunctional, not decorative. He dug his hands into his trouser pockets and smiled. ‘Reverend.’
Reverend Rebecca wore chinos with black rubber boots. Oliver thought she might have been gardening. Her dark hair, styled in a short pixie cut, suited the square shape of her face.
After placing the spoon back into its slot on the wall plaque, the reverend turned to Oliver. ‘We need to talk. It’s urgent.’
‘About the funeral?’ The serious tone in her voice alarmed him.
Stepping closer, she leaned in. ‘Yes, that too. But there’s another matter.’
‘Should we go somewhere private?’
She raised her head and, with a conspiratorial gaze, glanced around the kitchen. ‘No, not now. Tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you at the parish. Are you free?’
Oliver nodded.
‘Good, settled then. Saturday at ten. It’s the Uniting Church.’
‘Okay.’
‘The one at the top of the hill.’
‘I know.’
She looked doubtful. ‘We have four churches!’ She turned and studied a watercolour of a lost sheep on the adjacent wall. Like the spoons, it was new. An amateurish artwork, he thought Tash might have painted it.
