A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe (inspirational books for students .txt) 📗

at the bottom of the street. I take Milo there.’

Helen didn’t know if Milo was a dog or the baby and thought it probably best not to ask. ‘Thanks. I’ll try the park. Sorry to trouble you.’

‘Wait.’ The door opened a little wider and Helen noticed the young woman looked barely twenty. ‘Does this garden grow organic food? I don’t like giving Milo stuff full of pesticides but organic’s really expensive.’

Helen remembered the cigarette butts in the pot plant and wondered if she thought eating organic food would offset the fact she was filling her lungs with smoke. ‘I grow my own vegetables and try to only use garlic spray and pyrethrum.’

The girl gave her a blank look. ‘So not chemicals?’

‘They’re natural pesticides.’

‘Cool. You said community. I’m part of the community so that means I can get free food there, right?’

Helen opened her mouth to say, ‘It doesn’t work that way,’ and immediately thought of the Liparis’ bed she needed to harvest. With her hours at the café and the new garden project, she was fast running short on time.

‘If you help me harvest for the farmers’ market, you can keep some of the veggies.’

The girl’s eyes narrowed like a cat’s, instantly wary. ‘You want me to work all day for you and then you’ll pay me in vegetables? That’s not even legal!’

Helen tried not to sigh. She knew this type of person all too well—they believed the world was against them and they deserved everything for nothing. ‘That’s not what I’m suggesting. It’s more like you exchange one hour of your time for some vegetables.’

‘Why?’

Spare me. ‘Because I need some help and you want some homegrown vegetables.’

‘Organic.’

Helen was fast regretting her offer. ‘Yes, well, close to organic. I don’t have an actual certificate because I’m not a commercial grower.’

The baby, who looked like he was close to one, lifted his head from his mother’s shoulder and beamed a toothy smile.

‘If I come, so does Milo.’

Helen couldn’t decide if the girl was being defensive or antagonistic. Not that it mattered when the result was much the same—difficult.

‘Does he sleep in the pram?’ she asked.

‘No! He’s got a cot.’

She counted to five. ‘I meant, does he fall asleep in a pram or a stroller? If he does, walk down at his nap time and park him under one of the trees. That way you’ll have time to garden.’

‘I’m not coming for crap like radishes or any weird stuff.’

The Liparis grew fennel and celeriac. Helen thought longingly of Fiza’s and the Hazara women’s enthusiasm for the garden. Did she really need the prickly angst of this belligerent teenager who, despite her claims to want organic food, probably ate white bread and drank sugar-laden soft drinks?

Tell her it’s only weird stuff. ‘What vegetables do you eat?’

‘Potatoes, carrots and pumpkin. But only butternut pumpkin.’

Helen thought of her own plot. ‘Any green veg? Cabbage, broccoli?’

The girl screwed up her mouth. ‘I like peas.’

‘Peas aren’t quite ready yet, but I can promise you potatoes and carrots.’ Her patience level drained to barely there. ‘It’s up to you if you come or not. The garden’s on Riverfarm Road.’

‘I know! I walk past it heaps. Milo likes looking at the mural and that funny-looking metal thing.’

Helen loved all the art in the garden too. She wished she’d known the artist who’d created so many delightful nooks and crannies and filled them with surprises. Sadly, the woman had died well before Helen had joined, and none of the current committee had an artistic bone in their bodies.

‘Can you come tomorrow or Friday?’ she asked.

‘Maybe. What’s your name again?’

‘Helen Demetriou. And you’re …?’

‘Jade.’

Helen wasn’t surprised Jade didn’t offer her surname and she didn’t push for it. She had a hunch Jade wouldn’t show up at the garden. Most of her hoped the hunch proved correct.

CHAPTER

5

Tara watched Flynn and Clementine race across the Dusseldorps’ garden and fling themselves onto the jumping castle. It was Ace’s seventh birthday and this year Beth had gone all out with the entertainment.

‘Leaving feels weird, doesn’t it?’ Tara said to Kelly as they walked back to their cars. For years, they’d stayed on at children’s birthday parties, ‘helping’ the hostess by drinking wine and loosely supervising.

‘Leaving feels wonderful and even better, Al’s busy tinkering with his precious Valiant. I’m planning to sit in the shade and crack open the book group book. What about you?’

‘I thought I might seduce my husband.’

Kelly laughed. ‘Too funny. As if you’d waste a perfectly good Saturday afternoon when you know he’ll throw a leg over tonight anyway.’

Tara laughed too, hoping it sounded normal and not strung tight like every muscle in her body. She’d taken a risk with the line about seducing Jon, but it had got her the information she wanted. Kelly and Al were still having regular sex, even if it sounded like Kelly thought it was a bit of a chore.

‘You got me,’ she joked. ‘I’m reading Anna Karenina too. Last time Monique chose a book I didn’t finish it and she told me off in front of the group, remember?’

‘Oh, she’s “FIGJAM” for sure. What’s the bet she serves Russian food and vodka.’

‘As long as it’s honey cake and not pickled herring,’ Tara said.

She hopped into the car, excitement skipping. With the children out of the house for two hours, this afternoon was perfect for couple time. Jon was hardly going to claim fatigue in the middle of the afternoon. Since the business awards, he’d been less distracted, although he’d gone to bed before her most nights this week to ‘catch up on sleep’. But this morning he’d bounced out of bed before her to hit tennis balls to the kids, so he was all caught up and relaxed.

At lunchtime she’d asked him if he had any plans for the afternoon.

‘Thought I’d mow the lawn and test that new whipper snipper on the daisies down the side of the pool,’ he’d said. ‘They need hacking back.’

Company reps were always giving Jon demonstration models