17. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Finally, Tuesday rolled around and it was time for the lunch date she’d been hanging out for. Ollie was thoroughly thrilled with the distraction as she stepped up onto the front door step of a sweet-looking weatherboard cottage on a quiet side street just off Ribbonwood’s main road and knocked.

“Come in,” beamed Mrs Lowe. “Goodness, what a treat.” She bustled down the hallway, gesturing Ollie out to her little back patio, surrounded in a lush tropical garden so dense it was like the rainforest had crowded in and sat down to behave. “Cup of tea?” she offered.

She watched her old teacher as she returned to the table with a tray holding a pot of Earl Grey, two tea cups, a milk jug and a plate of Tim Tams. She wondered exactly how old Mrs Lowe was. She could be anywhere between fifty-five and seventy with her long iron grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, softly worn skin and firm strong limbs. Her eyes were as kind as they’d been in Ollie’s memory and she wondered again how anyone could deliberately set out to hurt this woman.

“Thank you for having me,” Ollie started and Mrs Lowe waved a hand shushing her.

“It’s not every day you get to catch up with your most successful former student.” She took her seat opposite Ollie. “Tell me about medicine,” she said, her eyes warm.

Ollie sucked in a breath. Honestly, it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. But as she looked across the table at her old teacher, she found herself opening her mouth. Mrs Lowe listened attentively and without judgement, and somehow, Ollie’s hands didn’t shake.

“Viola, honey,” she said, when Ollie had finished unburdening herself. “Can I ask you a question?” Ollie nodded. “Who’s helping you, with all this?” Ollie blinked. She frowned down at the table. “I thought as much,” Mrs Lowe said gently. “It’s too much to carry on your own. You’re allowed to ask for help, you know that right?”

Ollie nodded politely. Cherie and Mrs Lowe couldn’t have been more different and yet somehow Ollie found herself ganged up on by silver-haired, steel-spined older women who were apparently in cahoots. Ugh. She knew that if a colleague had come to her with the same kind of issue, professional support would be exactly the first thing she would be suggesting. It was always so easy when it was someone else .

“Can I ask you something too?” she changed the subject, looking closely at the older woman across the table.

“Of course.”

“Lara Bennett,” she said simply.

Mrs Lowe narrowed her eyes, looking back at her. She looked wary all of a sudden.

“What about Lara Bennett?”

“I heard that she…hurt you,” she said cautiously, not wanting to offend her by spelling out the details. “And I want to know if that’s true.”

“It’s true she spread a rumour about me,” Mrs Lowe said plainly and Ollie’s heart sank. She could see from the retired teacher’s eyes that there was real pain here. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Lara had been so clear - I’m bad - she’d said, but she’d also been noticeably evasive. She’d tried to use her body to throw Ollie off the scent, something Ollie was sure was extremely effective nine times out of ten. But Ollie just couldn’t bring herself to believe that the woman who’d brought everyone together around the bonfire to scheme for Eva Sinclair’s protection would also act toward Mrs Lowe in bad faith .

“Robyn,” she finally made herself say the name. “Lara… she’s not what everyone says she is, is she? I just… I can’t make myself believe that.”

“Why are you asking me this?” Mrs Lowe was watching her closely.

Ollie swallowed.

“I’ve… I’ve been spending some time with her,” she said delicately, unsure if the older woman would pick up the nuance of what she meant, or even if she wanted her to. “I actually think she’s kind of amazing.” Her voice came out soft. “Strong. Wily as hell. Kind.” Her eyes met Robyn’s. “Not in the bland surface kind of way. In the hard way, in actions, where it counts. But you mean a lot to me. You changed my whole life and I can’t reconcile this about her.”

Robyn looked at her for another beat. Ollie found herself going slightly pink under her frank gaze.

“Ah,” she said.

“Yeah,” Ollie agreed awkwardly.

“Well then.” Mrs Lowe placed her teacup down on her saucer. She paused. And then she opened her mouth. “The truth is, Ollie, that I’m a drunk.”

“I’m sorry?” Ollie knew for sure she’d misheard her.

“A drunk,” Mrs Lowe repeated. “It was ten years ago now,” she sighed. “Things were… things were hard at home, in my marriage. I’d left my job. The drinking just crept up on me. A coping mechanism, you know?” Ollie nodded dumbly, her mind still whirling. “My husband told me he wanted a divorce. Surprisingly, it wasn’t because of my drinking. That, of course, I’d tried damn hard to hide, but he also didn’t take the time to really notice. Instead, he’d just gone and met someone else.” She shook her head wryly, the stab of pain still clearly evident. “Our daughters were twelve and fourteen at the time. There was this terrible tension… some days he threatened me, saying he wanted full custody. Other times it was clear he wanted to skip out scot-free. He was half-in, half-out of our home, visiting his new girlfriend. I wasn’t coping.”

“I’m sorry,” Ollie whispered.

“Lara found me passed out at the wheel of my car. It was right by the high school. Just before pick up,” she said, shame and misery overtaking her features. “Lara was extremely pregnant at the time,” she added, her eyes suddenly warming, “so to this day, I have no idea how she did it. But somehow she wrangled me from the driver’s seat to the back and drove me and the girls safely home. David was away that week, thank god, and somehow she’d done it without letting anyone in town see the state I was in. What I’d almost done. ”

Ollie reached out across the table and grabbed her hand. Robyn blinked back tears.

“She stayed until I sobered up. Something about her… I just… told her everything.” She shook her head in mild wonder. “She was so young, barely twenty-five. My ex-pupil. Honestly, it was absolutely inappropriate that I unburdened on her like that, but I was so desperate, not to mention an absolute mess. Perhaps because of what she’d been through herself or perhaps because she had that big old baby belly, I don’t know, she just seemed so mature, ” she sighed. “Like she was far older than her years. She listened to everything I had to say, and then, just like that, she came up with a plan.”

“A plan?” Ollie realised she was holding her breath.

“She arranged for my sister to drive down from Maleny to stay with the kids. Then she checked me into Silverbloom Hospital. They kept me in for a week for alcohol detox,” she said, her voice cracking slightly as she remembered it. “I was so reliant on the booze at that point I couldn’t withdraw at home without the risk of a seizure. Lara knew all about that. Her dad, you know.”

Ollie blinked. She didn’t know.

“I was so scared,” Mrs Lowe whispered, “that David would find out. That he’d take the girls. It would be so easy for him now; I was clearly an unfit mother.” She swallowed hard. “That’s where Lara showed her true genius.”

“The rumour.”

“Yes.” She began to smile. “It hit David where it hurt. It was one thing to think about taking everything from me and leaving me broken on the floor. That would have given him a real buzz,” she said, a trace of bitterness flickering across her face. “But ultimately he was the one who wanted to be running away to his brand new life and now he was afraid I might get to do it first. From then on it was just a race for him to make sure he got out cleanly. In the end, he did everything by the book - didn’t quibble about a fair financial split or child support - as long as he was the one who got to go live his best life. After all, he didn’t want me running around town with a younger man while he stayed home with the kids.”

“Oh my god,” Ollie breathed, her head spinning. Jesus christ, Lara.

“You have to forgive me,” Mrs Lowe told her. “It’s a difficult story, and I don’t tell it to just anyone. I’m sober now, of course,” she added. “Plus, I’m a little protective of Lara.”

“Of Lara? ” Ollie stared at her flatly, something hot flaring in her chest. “All Lara gets out of you staying quiet is getting to be seen as the bad guy. Again.”

Mrs Lowe nodded, slowly.

“That’s true, on the one hand,” she agreed. “But on the other, Lara plays a particular role in this town. If I went ruining all her secrets you have no idea of the things that would fall apart around here.” She shook her head, wonderingly. Then she smiled. “Lara would probably have me buried in her back paddock within five minutes flat if I went public with the truth about her,” she said with real warmth.

“What is the truth?” Ollie wanted to know.

Robyn Lowe shook her head. She fixed Ollie with a stare that suddenly made her recall being held back after class in year ten biology.

“You’re a smart girl, Ollie Gabrielli,” she said. “I think I’ve told you more than enough for you to work the rest out on your own, don’t you?”

Ollie pushed back her chair.

“Thank you,” she said, as she stood up. “I don’t mean to be rude and rush away-”

“You should probably go.” Robyn nodded approvingly. “There’s somewhere you should be?”

“I… yeah. Yeah, there really is.”

Ollie couldn’t seem to move fast enough. She jumped into the farm ute parked outside, instantly stalling it, and cursing. She restarted the engine and it roared as she forced it into gear and got herself down the street to the corner. The heat of the day baked down on her as she jumped out onto the curb.

The general store was blessedly quiet when she all but burst in, her senses heightened as she skimmed for non-existent customers before she set her eyes on the shopkeeper who was arranging a mason jar of fresh cut flowers behind the counter in the golden afternoon light. Lara looked up in surprise as Ollie strode towards her, pushing back a lock of her hair with the back of her hand as she watched her approach. Her eyes widened as Ollie didn’t slow for a second, lifting the old-fashioned hinged counter top and stepping through behind the register, her hands slipping around Lara’s hips as soon she reached her and walking her firmly backwards until her back hit the wall.

Lara sucked in a surprised breath, her mouth dropping open.

“Ollie, what-”

“Lara Bennett,” she accused fiercely, the name coming out like she was swearing. She slipped one hand around the curve of Lara’s delicate jaw, feeling the heat and softness of her skin, seeing the flare of her pupils dilating right up close. “How dare you be this way? Pretending to be what everyone says you are when inside you’re so fucking beautiful? ”

She took barely a second, watching her words land. Then she dipped in and kissed her and Lara Bennett, Ribbonwood’s brazen queen bee, straight up melted in her arms. Ollie’s brain went white, as Lara’s mouth opened hungrily under her own, her curves pressing into her body like she just couldn’t get close enough. If it wasn’t for the wall at Lara’s back they’d have hit the floor. Ollie’s fingers slid into her warm hair, kissing her deeper and Lara gasped into her mouth, her own hands gripping almost painfully tightly to Ollie’s hips.

The store’s front door chimed and Ollie pulled back with difficulty, her breathing ragged, her eyes unable to let go of Lara’s.

“We’re closed,” Lara snapped, her gaze on Ollie’s, managing to find a tone that could shatter glass despite the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

The footsteps down the aisle paused.

“It’s one-thirty in the afternoon,” came an aggrieved voice. “The sign on the door said open.”

“It’s my shop, I can close whenever I damn want,” Lara huffed out as Myra Jenkins’ affronted face came into view.

“It’s okay.” Ollie jumped into action. “Can I help you?” she stepped gallantly towards the counter, Ribbonwood General Store’s most helpful new employee .

Myra stared at her suspiciously, as did Lara.

“You don’t work here,” the elderly lady looked over to Lara, who was conspicuously flushed and breathing fast.

“No,” Ollie agreed. “I was just asking Lara to explain why she’s not stocking Gabrielli olive oil,” she shot the actual shopkeeper a dirty sideways look.

“I see,” Myra said snippily, “as well you might. I’m just here for some baking powder if you stock such a thing,” she sniffed. “Normally I’d go to Woollies but the grandchildren are coming and I’m pressed for time.”

“Certainly.” Ollie lifted the counter flap and headed down the aisle, mouthing a wide-eyed help me over her shoulder at Lara. Lara, for once, actually helped her, pointing furiously over at the next aisle.

Between the two of them Myra had her purchase rung up and Ollie followed her politely to the door where she snapped the lock after her and flipped the sign to closed. Lara watched her do it, before Ollie strode back down the store towards her.

“You’re losing me business-” Lara made a last ditch pretence at protesting and Ollie just laughed at her, already reaching for her and pulling her in close .

“Are you complaining?” she raised her eyebrows.

In response Lara tugged free of her grip, grabbed her wrist and led her straight through a back door. Inside was a store room, neat shelves of dry goods, dim filtered light from a small skylight, no handy couch or any damn soft surface in sight to Ollie’s brief - desperate - perusal, so she pushed Lara against the small bench top, set with tea and coffee supplies, making the cups clatter.

She took one second to look at her again, Lara’s eyes full of unmistakable hunger as her head tilted up invitingly and Ollie couldn’t stop her satisfied grin.

“God, you really do want me,” she observed, melding her hips up against Lara’s, watching her mouth fall open at the contact.

Lara looked up at her, her bright blue eyes clear and blazing.

“Don’t make me change my mind, Ollie,” she warned, then reached up to the back of her neck to pull her mouth down against her own.

Ollie felt sure from the heat of her kiss there was very little chance of that happening, but she didn’t taunt her further, hungrily exploring her hot mouth, her hands moulding over the delicious curve of her spine. Lara’s own hands were bolder, sliding down over Ollie’s ass, squeezing it hard, making Ollie smirk against her mouth - even as she burned with desire - at how extremely clearly Lara had been lusting after her.

Her thigh pressed just enough between Lara’s, making her gasp at the contact. The kiss ratcheted in heat, Ollie groaning low in her throat as Lara blatantly ground her body against her thigh. Lara straight up whimpered against her mouth and then pulled back sharply, her hands gripping Ollie’s hips.

“Are you okay?” Ollie quickly checked in.

“ No.” Lara shook her head then let it fall back a little, gasping up at the ceiling. “ Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Ollie didn’t let go of her, worry slicing in through her lust.

“I-” Lara paused, before she lifted her head and gazed at Ollie, a little dazed. “It’s been a long, long time,” she admitted softly. “I swear to god,” she whispered, “if you keep doing that… you won’t even have to take my clothes off.”

Ollie felt her body clench at her frank words, not to mention the mere thought of shedding Lara of her clothes. Incredibly, she found that for once in her life she didn’t want to tease Lara Bennett, not when she finally had her exactly where she wanted her. Not when she was looking so dizzily at Ollie, her cheeks flushed, her lips still parted and her breathing tremulous. Instead, she gently slipped her hand under Lara’s left thigh and pulled it up until Lara had to wrap her leg around Ollie’s hips to hold herself up.

“Really?” she asked quietly, letting her hand drift down between their bodies. Her fingers traced very softly over the seam of Lara’s small denim shorts and Lara stopped breathing altogether. “If I just…” she ran her fingers slowly over her, again and again, her own breath ragged as she imagined the heat and wet she could almost feel through the fabric, “I’d make you lose it,” she dipped her head around to brush her lips against Lara’s ear, “all over little old me? ” She couldn’t help the small tease.

Lara struggled valiantly, but she couldn’t do anything but moan as Ollie kept up the gentle stroking. She dipped in to kiss her again, both of them knowing Lara Bennett’s defences were completely vanquished in this moment.

Just outside the roller door behind them, came the sound of a truck crunching its gears and a repetitive beep as it began to back up.

“ Damnit,” Lara stuttered out a disbelieving breath.

“Leave it.” Ollie kept stroking her, unable to take her eyes off her flushed face or the helpless hungry quiver of her hips.

“I can’t-” Lara ground out, gripping Ollie’s wrist and dragging her fingers away. Her foot slipped back down to the ground. “That’s my weekly supplier. I could literally go broke if I don’t answer that door. ”

“Worth it.” Ollie bit her lip. Lara shot her a look and she grinned despite herself. “Then I’ll come over tonight,” she soothed the thoroughly riled looking woman before her, running her fingers through Lara’s silky hair, shocked that this was a thing she could suddenly do.

“That’s not how life as a single mother works.” Lara looked at her flatly, a slight frown starting up, leaning back a little from Ollie’s touch.

“Hm,” said Ollie. “Well. This is a conundrum.” She pressed a hot kiss against Lara’s throat, feeling as well as hearing her shaky breath. “I guess if you want this to happen you might just have to figure out a way.”

She pulled back to see Lara looking an extremely satisfying combination of entirely desperate and thoroughly irritated. She stroked her thumb over her ridiculously perfect cheekbone, smirked at her, and then, trying not show how intensely wobbly her legs were, she left, flipping the sign back to open on her way.

It was two nights later that Audrey rang her to tell her the news that Lara Bennett had called for another bonfire that Friday night. This time, Ollie was invited.