6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Like it or not, her mother seized control of the rental car situation and by day two a brisk return had been arranged and Ollie was without wheels.Well, practically without wheels.She’d eyed the battered old ute she’d been offered and decided it was lucky she was planning on staying put at home.

A full week went by.She took Nonna out into the garden in the early part of the day before the sun got hot.When it rained, she sat at her side and watched her favourite Italian soaps with her.Her grandparents had migrated to Australia in the 1950’s and hadn’t owned a television for at least a decade after that, but Nonna insisted that Un posto al sole - which as far as Ollie could tell was the Italian version of Neighbours - was an essential part of maintaining her heritage.Ollie was pretty sure she remembered the same storyline from the last time she’d visited.

She cooked with her mother, who kept up a running commentary on her knife skills, and weeded the vegetable patch, picking cabbage moth caterpillars off by hand, feeding them directly to the trio of runner ducks that lived in the garden for exactly such purposes.She hung out with her nieces and nephews and took them yabby hunting in the dam.She helped mulch the grape vines and watched Nico man the cellar door on the weekend.

She said a polite no thanks to her dad’s invitation to come down to the Ribbonwood pub for a cold beer on a hot afternoon and a firm another time perhaps, to her mother’s suggestion she join her on her trip to town to meet up with her friends from book club. It wasn’t just the prospect of getting stuck in long gossip sessions with the older generation - a strong likelihood for both invitations - that made Ollie recoil. It was Ribbonwood itself.

Growing up there had been hard enough.Some kids thrived in a small town; queer kids often didn’t.Ollie had fit in relatively seamlessly during her school years - she’d been athletic and acceptably pretty enough after all - but she’d always known there was something about herself she had to hide. Hiding wasn’t her strong suit it turned out, and the high school mean girls were smart enough to be dangerous.It was all Ollie could do to pretend their little hints and barbs weren’t entirely accurate until she could get the hell out of there.

Leaving Ribbonwood was the best thing she’d ever done in her life. In Melbourne, girls were always stoked to find out she was gay; it took barely a handful of kisses from pretty women in queer nightclubs to vanquish most of her lingering internalised homophobia. Still, there was no part of her that held a fondness for small town life.As far as she was concerned it was all gossip, no privacy, and every single person knew your damn mother.

Eventually though, as the days wore on, the mother in question shooed her out into town with a list of errands. With a sigh she turned the key in the old ute and managed, eventually, to get the engine to turn over.Nico snickered at her as she drove out the gate. The ute was a bit of a family joke.Her siblings had their own slick vehicles and her parents shared a “town car” and a “farm car.”The ute was the farm car and as both the baby and the non-local of the family, Ollie was granted exclusive use of it while she was home.She doubted there’d be much competition for it.

The speedometer was broken so her father had wired in a digital one that looked like a shitty alarm clock.She was already convinced it was accurate no more than about forty percent of the time.The muffler had a hole in it so the engine roared like an earthquake every time she shifted up a gear.Oh, that was another thing: it was a manual.Ollie hadn’t driven one of those since she was in high school.In the rear-view mirror she saw Nico almost fall over laughing as she bunny-hopped almost immediately out the gate.

By the time she’d gotten to town, she’d hit her stride, her gear changes a little clunky but no stalling. Look at that, practically a country girl. She parked outside the tiny hardware store and jumped down from the front seat.Almost instantly she felt sets of eyes on her. She wasn’t sure if they were really there, or if it was just the teenage part of her brain convinced everyone was staring at her, a self-conscious tic that perpetually reactivated whenever she found herself in her old hometown .

In the hardware store she recognised Jenny Mason’s dad, though by the way he looked at her with bland politeness she knew the recognition wasn’t returned.She imagined she was very different these days. Eighteen years ago she’d been a lanky jock, always in her soccer kit or athletics gear, and an ever-present ponytail. Today, she was a touch more sophisticated - golden-brown instead of sunburned and grass-stained, her long body finally proportionate, her ponytail traded for sleek dark locks.

“Oh my goodness, I’d know that face anywhere,” piped a voice to her left.Ollie’s shoulders dropped. So much for that fantasy. She smiled though, when she saw who the voice belonged to.

“Mrs Lowe,” she put down the basket of miscellaneous goods her mother had deemed necessary.“How lovely to see you.”

“Honestly Ollie,” Mrs Lowe chided gently, “I think you can probably just call me Robyn, now you’re grown and I’m retired, don’t you?”

“Oh.Sure, Mrs…Robyn,” Ollie tried, and winced.

Mrs Lowe smiled at her.It felt hard to see her older, hard in the same way watching her parents get old was hard.She’d been the high school biology teacher who’d encouraged Ollie to focus on something broader than just sport. Other teachers had tried detention and censorious family meetings to try to get Ollie to think about her schoolwork.Mrs Lowe had tried another tack and simply talked to her like she wasn’t just some soccer-obsessed moron.She’d encouraged her and inspired her to see the purpose of education beyond passing exams and getting her teachers off her back.She’d activated Ollie’s fierce work ethic and competitive streak in a whole new arena in life and Ollie knew full well Mrs Lowe was the only reason she had the career that she did now.

Sometimes, she reflected, as they chatted their way to the register, being known in a small town wasn't entirely horrible.Mrs Lowe already knew about her career and glowed with pride on her behalf. She also knew about Ollie’s grandmother and had just the right words to say. By the time they’d parted ways at the front door, Ollie felt a warm glow in her chest.Her years in Ribbonwood hadn’t been all bad.

She walked down the road and consulted her list.She crossed over at the corner and stepped into the General Store.Wow, this place had changed. What had once been a musty and dull experience had been transformed by little golden spotlights beaming on chalk black shelves filled with fresh produce, bright jars gleaming like jewels, luxury chocolates and fresh flaky ciabatta.Bon Iver crooned quietly from hidden speakers.The vintage floorboards creaked but glowed with polish.It smelled divine, like beeswax and fresh basil.

She approached the register, a basket full of luxurious nonsense that absolutely wasn’t on her list and her stomach dropped right out of her body.Fucking hell that was an attractive woman.

The woman behind the counter was distracted, poking at the vintage looking till, her long blonde locks swept up and held back by a rosie-the-riveter style red bandana knotted around her head.The soft nape of her neck was mesmerising and the slope of her delicate shoulders did something to Ollie. There were knockout curves that followed from there but it was something about the set of her spine that made Ollie’s teeth ache just to look at her: vulnerability and strength in equal measures.The woman was staring down at the register, the profile of her lashes lush and intensely feminine, neat white teeth sinking into a firm pink lower lip.

Her lashes raised and the blue eyes that met Ollie’s flickered immediately from frustrated to arctic cold.Ollie’s mouth dropped open, momentarily struck speechless.

“Lara.” She found her voice. “Lara Bennett.”

In an instant Ollie was whipped back in time, walking the corridors of Ribbonwood High in her soccer uniform and scuffed sneakers, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Lara Bennett swept up the corridor towards her, her gold locks bouncing, a scattering of mere mortals in her wake. Their eyes met, and both sets narrowed: the queen bee and the sporty tomboy. Natural enemies. Lara tossed her a look so scathing that Ollie felt the sharpness of the slight without her needing to utter a single word. Airhead , Ollie muttered as they passed each other. Oh stop asking, Lara bit back, her voice louder for those at the back, craning her neck to flash those blue eyes at her as she walked, I won’t be your girlfriend, god. Ollie stopped still and widened her eyes. How are you not pregnant already? She tossed the words back, not waiting to see them land as they both stalked away in a huff.

Ollie cringed as the memory flooded her senses. It had been the early 2000’s; all they’d had to wield at each other was the rampant misogyny and homophobia in which they all swam. What times.

Now though, adult Lara looked at her with a studied blankness.

“I’m sorry,” she said coolly. “I can’t seem to place you.”

Flabbergasted, Ollie pushed her basket onto the counter with a slight jolt and met her gaze.

“Ollie Gabrielli,” she said flatly.“We were in school together.”

Lara shrugged.There was just enough hostility in the action that Ollie knew for sure that her next words were a lie.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.I’m sorry.”

“You’re literally going to pretend not to know me,” Ollie said, a smile of disbelief at the woman’s pure brazenness sneaking out despite herself. It was ludicrous. There’d been no more than forty kids in their entire graduating year.

Lara’s eyelashes flickered.

“You’re perhaps vaguely familiar,” she relented since Ollie was clearly going to press the point.

Ollie found herself laughing out loud.

“Wow, you’re something else,” she said drily, which was quite honestly the truth.Had Lara Bennett always been so hot? The girl in her memory had been beautiful, but in a completely impersonal way, like a pretty painting you’d stop and admire. Never tempting flesh and blood in the kind of way that made Ollie’s fingers twitch. Oh fuck.

Lara was pretending not to watch her right back as she rang up her items and placed them neatly in a brown paper bag.Ollie however, was paying unwillingly rapt attention so she noticed her slip up and place the last two items in without even scanning them.

“You missed the pink chocolate and the ginger gummies,” she said, her tone coming out exactly that of a smug seventeen-year-old arsehole pointing out that the queen bee had a run in her tights.

“Sophisticated taste in snacks you have,” Lara said, in a tone that could slice you to death as she fished around in the bag for the items and scanned them.“That’s one hundred and eighty-three dollars and thirty-five cents,” her soft curved lips pronounced.

“They’re for my grandmother,” Ollie defended herself.“And these prices are highway robbery,” she said through clenched teeth, handing over her credit card.

“I’m sure you can cope, Dr Gabrielli, ” Lara made a show of reading off the card strip.Her lashes flicked up and she studied Ollie’s face.“What kind of an ego do you need to have to make sure that even your credit card lets everyone know you’re a doctor?”

“It’s a professional title,” Ollie snapped, snatching the card back after Lara had tapped it.The tips of their fingers brushed and she felt the electricity tingle low in her spine.

“What, did you change it by deed poll too?Do you need it printed on a t-shirt?Maybe a cute little cap?” Lara’s eyes gleamed as she leaned on the counter towards her, the action neatly highlighting the shape of her breasts - perhaps deliberately - and Ollie couldn’t for the life of her prevent the quick once-over her pupils automatically leapt for.There was an almost smirk on Lara’s pretty mouth and Ollie felt it all the way through her body.

“God,” she said, grabbing the bag of groceries before she could say or do something regrettable.“It’s so comforting how some things just never change.”

“Mm,” agreed Lara, watching her back away.Her eyes did a deliberate sweep of Ollie, from head to toe and back again. “Some things do though. ”

Ollie stumbled back into the outdoor world, her mind spinning as to what the fuck that was supposed to mean.Had Lara just flirted with her?Was that a come on?There was just enough of a sharpness to her tone though that it didn’t quite seem right.Lara was mocking her somehow, perhaps by pointing out that the thing that had changed was Ollie’s newfound desire to hungrily ogle her. Her cheeks burned. One thing was for sure, Lara Bennett was still an Olympic level expert in getting under her skin.