Second Chance Town

Karly Lane

• Publisher: Allen & Unwin
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN:
  9781760291815
• eBook ISBN:
  9781925575859
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literature General
• Index: Literature

The town of Bundah is dying, with many of its young people fleeing for jobs in the city. A desperate plan to revive Bundah's fortunes - with generous incentives to attract new businesses - results in a flood of people coming to the town to set up shop. As Bundah begins to come to life with the new arrivals a spate of teenage drug overdoses starts to divide the locals. Many are convinced the narcotics trade has been brought to town by one of the newcomers. It doesn't help that the mysterious new owner of one of the local pubs has a dark past. Lucy Parker is a single mother doing her best to support her teenage daughter, Belle, through her last year of high school. It's long been Belle's dream to go to university, so when she starts to turn wayward, hanging out with the wrong kids and experimenting with alcohol and possibly drugs, her mother is deeply troubled. The very last thing Lucy needs is for a man like Hugh Thompson to mess with her heart and disrupt her life. However, it seems fate has other ideas...

Thirteen

When Lucy arrived at work she found Ken sitting at her desk. She bit back her annoyance at his making himself at home in her office, even though it was technically his office and his business and he could sit wherever he darn well pleased. However, it was unusual for him to be here this early and something warned her that this wasn’t a social call.

‘Morning,’ she said, hanging her bag on the back of the office door.

‘Lucy,’ Ken said without taking his gaze from the screen before him.

‘Can I help you with something?’ she finally asked when it became clear he wasn’t going to fill her in on the reason for his visit.

‘I’m just checking something.’

‘Okay. Can I help you find whatever it is you’re checking?’ If he messed up her files she was going to be extremely annoyed, she thought, watching his one-finger typing.

‘I’m just looking through the security footage.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’ said Lucy, instantly alarmed. What on earth would he need to do that for? Had they been robbed overnight?

‘I’m surveying security footage to see how many customers haven’t been paying for their fuel,’ he told her with a few more hard bangs of his finger on the keyboard.

‘What are you talking about?’

Ken looked up, piercing her with a severe glare. ‘Lucy, it has been brought to my attention that you’ve given away my fuel on at least one occasion recently. I’m going through security footage to see if I can find any further incidences before I decide if I’m going to take any further action.’

‘Are you serious?’ said Lucy.

‘I take my businesses and my money very seriously, Lucy. You should know that by now.’

‘Well, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘You were overheard yesterday telling Ted Brownhouse, and I quote,’ he said sitting back in his chair, ‘“Don’t worry about it. Ken won’t miss a few litres of diesel.”’

‘Your informant forgot to mention the bit where I said fix it up next time you’re in town.’

‘And that makes it better how?’

‘Ted forgot his wallet. He lives like an hour up in the hills. You expect me to make him drive all the way home for fifty bucks of diesel?’

‘Yes, I do. I don’t run a charity.’

‘It’s hardly charity. It’s just common decency. Ted’s a regular customer—has been for the past forty years.’

‘I don’t care if he was the founding father of Bundah, no one gets free diesel. Next thing you know, everyone will be “forgetting their wallet”.’

‘I can’t believe you’re making an issue of this.’

‘And then there’s the other matter.’

‘What other matter?’

Ken nodded at the money drawer sitting on the desk; clearly he’d taken it out of the safe. ‘I’ve counted that till and it’s short.’

Lucy frowned. ‘No, it’s not. I balanced it last night before I left.’

‘Feel free to double-check it,’ he said graciously, waving his hand over the desk. ‘In fact, I’d prefer you to.’

This was utter bullcrap, Lucy thought angrily. She didn’t have time for this today, it was the end of the month and she had a heap of paperwork to do. Unlocking the lid, she quickly began counting notes, jotting down the amounts on the pad before her. A few minutes later she frowned down at the total.

‘Well?’ Ken prompted.

‘It’s out by five hundred dollars.’

‘I’m disappointed, Lucy.’

‘It balanced last night.’

‘So you say.’

Was he seriously implying she had something to do with this discrepancy? ‘I’m telling you, Ken. This balanced last night when I locked it into the safe.’

‘And yet this morning it doesn’t. How do you explain that?’

‘I’m not the only one with a key to the safe,’ she pointed out tightly.

‘If I’d taken it, it wouldn’t be an issue now, would it?’

‘I cannot believe you’re accusing me of stealing your money.’

‘I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m simply asking why the till doesn’t balance.’

‘I don’t know, Ken. All I can say is it did last time I locked it away.’

There was a deathly quiet moment as they eyed each other across the desk.

‘Giving away fuel is one thing, but when I’m no longer able to trust staff with unlimited access to my money, I’m afraid there’s no other way around it. I have to let you go, Lucy. As of today.’

Lucy stared at Ken, dumbstruck. This couldn’t be happening.

‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I just don’t see how I can keep you on under the circumstances.’

‘Ken, this is ridiculous,’ Lucy finally managed. The last thing she’d expected when she’d come into work this morning was to be fired.

‘I was hoping we could do this quietly,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m sure you don’t want the rest of the town hearing about this.’

‘You can’t go round spreading rumours about people without any evidence. I didn’t do anything wrong,’ she said, throwing her arms in the air. ‘For goodness sake, Ken, I’ve worked here for seventeen years.’

‘The numbers don’t lie, Lucy. There’s clearly a discrepancy here, and you’re responsible for the book-keeping. Look, I admit it’s not a great deal of money in the grand scheme of things and I’m not an unreasonable man. I understand being a single mother in this day and age is a tough job, but you could have asked for money, there was no need to steal it. I’m very disappointed, Lucy.’

‘Ken, I did not steal any money!’

‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I really am. But if you leave quietly, I won’t bring the police into it. We’ll just leave it at this,’ Ken said, getting to his feet slowly.

Lucy felt ill. She stared at Ken, standing at the office doorway waiting for her to leave.

In a daze, Lucy gathered her few possessions from her desk—the photos of Belle she’d tacked up on the wall above her work station, the rather sad-looking peace lily she had a love-hate relationship with. She couldn’t leave it behind. She’d rather take it home and kill it there than leave it here. This couldn’t be happening.

Outside in her car, she stared out the windscreen numbly. She’d just been fired. She’d never been fired before in her entire life. What was she going to do now?

She would have appreciated a bit of Fred’s candour right now. One of his blunt pep talks might have stopped her feeling so bruised and fragile. Lucy closed her eyes briefly, and blinked back her tears. ‘I don’t know what to do, Fred,’ she said quietly.

‘Don’t let the bastard win.’ The words were as real as though they’d been spoken in the small confines of the car. Don’t let him win.

She let out a breath and took another one. She’d done nothing wrong. She had nothing to be afraid of; she should call Ken out and demand to see some kind of evidence to prove she’d done anything wrong. But the thought of Nate becoming involved, the humiliation of him charging her with something, was too much to bear. Ken had said he wouldn’t take it further if she left quietly. It was risking employment suicide to have a mark like embezzlement against your name in a small country town. No one else would ever hire her if they so much as suspected there was any truth to Ken’s rumours.

She had no job.

She turned the ignition and drove away from the service station. She hadn’t been without a job in the past seventeen years. She was one of the lucky ones, she knew that, but the thought sent a wave of panic through her. How was she going to send Belle to university if she didn’t have a job?

Reaching the town limits she told herself to concentrate on the road. Her gaze travelled along the main street and she mentally checked off her chances of employment. Most of the shops were family owned and run and, until they managed to entice visitors to town, that was not going to change. Her eyes fell on the old post office and for a moment her hopes rose. The café was one business that was actually doing very well. She pulled into a parking spot and, after a brief hesitation, pushed open her door.

As she went in she smiled at a few people she knew, not stopping to talk. She wasn’t in the mood for social chitchat today. She stood at the front counter and waited for Russell as he put the finishing touches on the cappuccino he was making.

‘Lucy, how are you, chicken?’ he asked when he came back after delivering the order to the table. ‘Oh my goodness, you look terrible.’

‘Thanks, Russell. I needed to hear that today,’ she muttered.

‘What’s going on with you?’

Lucy looked around the café before lowering her voice a little. ‘Do you think I could talk to you and Steve for a minute . . . in private?’

‘Of course you can, sweetie. Come on back,’ he said, lifting the counter for her to slip through.

‘Hey Lucy! Wow, you need some under-eye concealer. Late night?’

This visit could have been a huge mistake, she thought as she touched her face gingerly. ‘Guys, I was just wondering is there any chance you might need some extra staff? Even part-time?’

‘Is this for your daughter? I was only thinking the other day she’d be a great little waitress. I can just see her in an adorable little French maid’s apron,’ Russell gushed.

‘Russell. Remember what we talked about?’ Steve warned.

‘Oh. Yeah. I forgot,’ Russell sighed. ‘Apparently Mr Purse Strings over there has decided we have to tighten our belts. The renos cost a bit more than we were expecting.’

‘Oh.’

‘Sorry, sweet cheeks.’

‘That’s all right, It was just a thought. No worries,’ she smiled and tried not to feel deflated.

‘Is she eighteen yet? Because there’s always the top pub. Your Mr Thompson seems to be going great guns up there. I heard he was expecting a big group this weekend,’ Steve said helpfully.

‘It’s not actually for Belle, it’s for me,’ she admitted reluctantly. Work for Hugh? Flashes of their last conversation went through her mind and she cringed. Considering she’d pretty much told him to grow up, he’d probably enjoy watching her ask for a job.

‘For you?’ Russell repeated, surprised. ‘Why?’

‘Ken and I had a slight . . . disagreement this morning,’ she hedged, conscious of the café owners’ inability to resist a piece of juicy gossip. They were perfectly suited to small-town living.

‘So you walked out on him? Good for you, girlfriend!’ Russell clapped gleefully.

‘Something like that,’ she agreed. ‘Well, I’d better get up to the pub and see if Hugh needs some help. Could you let me know if you happen to hear of any work? I’ll take anything at this stage.’

‘Of course we will, cupcake. We’re on the case!’

‘Good luck, Luce,’ Steve called as she waved goodbye.

She left the car where it was and walked up the street to the top of the hill where the Coach House sat. She had to admit Hugh had done a fantastic job on the old hotel. It held pride of place in the main street now, with its freshly painted exterior. It brightened up the entire street.

Inside it was fairly quiet, with only a few men seated at the bar and two women at a table on the far side of the room.

Hugh came out from behind the bar, carrying a tray of drinks for the women. She caught the women’s bright smiles and had to bite her lip to stop the amused snort that threatened. It seemed that Hugh was fast becoming a local celebrity. Her smile died as he looked up and caught her watching him.

‘Do I need a stiff drink before you launch into round two of tearing strips off me?’ he asked, stacking the dirty glasses he’d just collected onto the bar.

This was going to be awkward. ‘No. I’m not here about that.’

She didn’t want to ask him, she really didn’t want to . . . ...

Table of contents

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• CONTENTS
• ONE
• TWO
• THREE
• FOUR
• FIVE
• SIX
• SEVEN
• EIGHT
• NINE
• TEN
• ELEVEN
• TWELVE
• THIRTEEN
• FOURTEEN
• FIFTEEN
• SIXTEEN
• SEVENTEEN
• EIGHTEEN
• NINETEEN
• TWENTY
• TWENTY-ONE
• TWENTY-TWO
• TWENTY-THREE
• TWENTY-FOUR
• TWENTY-FIVE
• TWENTY-SIX
• TWENTY-SEVEN
• TWENTY-EIGHT
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS