White Gum

Creek
Nicole
HURLEY-MOORE

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 First published in 2018

Copyright Nicole Hurley-Moore 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior
permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever
is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational
purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has
given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of
the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Allen & Unwin

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Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
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ISBN 978 1 76063 110 9

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The paper in this book is FSC certified.

FSC promotes environmentally responsible,
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C009448
management of the worlds forests.

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 For Christopher, Ciandra, Conor, Alannah and my aunt,
who really wanted Nick to have his own story.

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 Prologue

The smoke was still heavy in the air, making Nicks eyes
sting and causing a coughing fit as it stuck to his throat.
Nick watched people bustle around him, worry and pity
etched on to their tired faces.
We need to get you to the hospital, someone said. It was
one of the guys from the ambulance.
Nick shook his head.
Im not going until Sophie does.
Mate, that could be a while, and you need medical atten-
tion. Those burns need to be looked at.
Burns? Nick wondered what the guy was on about.
Im alright.
Youre not.
Nick looked the ambo in the eye.
Im staying put and thats the end of it.
Okay, Ill tell you what? Ill go and see whats happening.
I know you want to stay, but it could take longer than we
first thought. If thats the case, then you have to go to the
hospital. Deal?

vii

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 Nick gave a weary nod.
Good, just hang on and Ill be back in a tick, he said,
standing up and disappearing between a couple of fire engines.
Nick tried to refocus on the chaotic scene before him.
Emergency services and volunteers were out in full, all
doing everything they could. But it was all too late. Why
hadnt they realised that?
The fire front has moved in a south-westerly direction,
a firefighter said as she hurried past the ambulance. Theyve
got the eastern front under control. If were lucky, the wind
change will blow it back on itself.
A couple of cars tore up the drive, sending billows of dust
in their wake. Nick thought he should get up, but something
deep inside him was preventing him from walking over to
face the Telford family. The first car came to an abrupt halt
and Sophies family scrambled out of the car. Peter Telford
supported his mother as the smoky air swirled and engulfed
them. Behind them, in the second car, was Vivienne Parnell,
Sophies best friend.
They all tried to get past the police, but were halted in
their tracks. A lot of raised voices ensued but everyone fell
silent as the ambulance officers wheeled a gurney draped in
a sheet past them. The outline of the body was unmistak
able, the small frame and the swell of the belly there for all
to see, and the quiet was broken by screams. But for Nick
everything faded into the backgroundall he could think
about was that his Sophie was being whisked away. He threw
off the blanket to stand up, taking a step towards the gurney
carrying his wifes body just as it bumped on the uneven

viii

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 ground and her arm fell loose from the covering. Her gold
wedding band glinted in the odd, unsettling, smoky daylight.
Nicks world tipped, and one of the ambos stepped
forward and caught him before he hit the ground.
You need to lie down, mate, he said, gently holding
Nicks arm.
Let me go. I have to be with her!
There was a shuffle of feet and another couple of guys
materialised.
Come on, mate, best go back to the other ambulance.
Well take it from here, theres nothing you can do.
But ... I should go with her, said Nick, tears in his eyes
as he watched them gently load the gurney into the back
of the van. He couldnt turn away, so he stood still staring,
almost unseeing, as the doors were shut and the ambulance
slowly drove away.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a scuffle and raised
voices from beyond the row of cars.
Let me through! shouted a womans voice.
Nick looked up to see Vivienne push her way past everyone
until she was standing in front of him, tears tracking down
her face. Nick recognised the desolation in her eyesother
than their love for Sophie, it was the one thing they shared.
It should have been you! she spat before a policeman
pulled her away. Why are you still here and shes not? You
shouldve died in the fire!
I did, Nick said quietly.

ix

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 Chapter 1
Six years later

Nick Langtree pulled back the tattered curtain hanging at

his caravan window and peered outside. A light, misty rain
was falling over Winters Hill. The whole place was quiet
and still, like the pause between breaths. The dark sky was
tinging the whole place with a kind of m
elancholy, the effect
intensified by the burned-out stable and the gardenonce
full of flowers, it was now just a tangle of brambles and
weeds. Nick dropped the curtain and stepped away from
the window.
He didnt like to think about the past. Usually, he dis-
tracted himself with work, but this morning hed managed
to slice his hand open. It had been a stupid accident; his hand
slipping while hed been replacing a couple of rotten floor-
boards in the barn. The result had been a trip to casualty at
the local hospital, a dozen stitches and a lecture about farm
safety. Hed been glad to get back homehospitals always
brought back terrible memories. But being unable to do any
work around the farm had left him alone with his thoughts,
which was never a good thing.

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 Nick stepped over to the tiny galley kitchen and flicked
on the kettle, biting back a curse as he bumped his bandaged
hand against the bench. His sleek black cat, Tabitha,
regarded him imperiously from her perch on the top of
a faded blue armchair.
What are you looking at? Nick muttered.
The cat continued staring at him for a moment before
closing her green eyes and going back to sleep.
Sorry, Tab, I didnt mean to snap.
With his coffee made, Nick sat down at the small table
and tried to think about anything but the past. The doctor
had said he shouldnt use his hand for the next few days.
That was all fine and well for a medic, thought Nick, but he
still had a mob of sheep to care for and a farm to runat
least, what was left of it. Six years ago, Winters Hill had
been a different place. All Nicks hard work had been begin-
ning to pay off and the sheep run looked as if it was going
to make a small profit. The future had felt bright and full of
possibilities for both him and Sophie. They were deeply in
love and had a much-wanted baby on the way.
But all that had changed in a heartbeat.
He sighed as he pushed away his untouched mug and
tried to think what he could do. Fixing the floorboards
in the barn was out. Maybe hed just go for a walk and
see if something presented itself. He glanced around the
caravan, trying not to remember the plans for the beautiful,
spacious house he and Sophie had been building when the
fire struck. There was just enough room for him and the cat
in the caravan. He was glad for his table, which doubled as

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 a desk, his armchair, and a small TV. He thought about lying
down on the double bed crammed behind the small partition
hed added to create a little privacy from the sleeping and
living area.
Outside, a few steps away from the front door, hed built
a fully functioning bathroom for Sophie, whod refused to
move into the caravan while their house was being built unless
there was a hot shower and a flushing toilet. Sophies brother
had said that she was being a princess insisting on it and
maybe she shouldnt contemplate moving in until the
house was finished. But Nick never thought of it that way.
Shed never asked for anything else and damn, if all it took
was some plumbing and a bit of hot water he was happy to
do it. Besides it meant that the two of them would have their
own space rather than living in the Telfords spare room.
Nick winced as he got up and opened the door. Heavy
rain had replaced the mist and it was loud as it hit the tin
roof of the old tool shed.
If he had any sense hed go back inside and write the rest
of the day off. But, then again, he never admitted to being
sensible. Nick picked his raincoat off a hook, stepping into
the downpour, and shut the caravan door firmly behind him.

***

Tash Duroz stacked the last chair on the table, glad the
day was almost over. The people of White Gum Creek did
their best to keep The Gumnut Bakery a going concern, but
today had been quiet. Thank God for the orders from local
restaurants and cafs in the surrounding area, which kept

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 the bakery afloat. When Tash and her baby brother, Alex,
had taken over the bakery about five years ago, which had
been a pretty scary thing for a then twenty-three-year-old,
shed soon realised they couldnt only rely on the locals to
make the business viable. In her grandmothers day, the town
had been big enough to keep the bakery ticking over. In recent
years, however, several of the local farmers had gone broke,
and a good proportion of young people had moved to bigger
towns in pursuit of other opportunities and more excite-
ment. But it wasnt entirely doom and gloom. Thered been
a steady trickle of tree changers arriving to escape the bustle
of Melbourne. Thanks to them, the town was beginning to
bloom again, and so was the bakery.
Tash remained determined about growing The Gumnut
Bakery into a more profitable business. The bakery had been
founded by the Duroz family back in the early days of the
town and had been a fixture through both the tough times
and the good. Her grandmother had always claimed the
family had flour in its blood. Tash had long since resolved
that she wouldnt be the one to let the bakery go.
Preoccupied, she tucked a strand of dark hair behind
her ear and started mopping the old slate-tiled floor. Even
though she was a good baker, it was her brother Alex who
had the light touch of an artist when it came to making
bread and pastries and cakes. The fact he took his skill for
granted frustrated Tash, but shed learned to live with it.
Alex seemed to have an innate ability to instinctively know
what ingredients to add to a recipe to transform it from the
ordinary. For Tash it was a different story, she had to learn

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 through experiment, trial and failure. In any case, though
Alex surpassed her in baking, Tash had the business savvy.
Three years ago shed started supplying their artisan bread
and baked goods to gourmet delicatessens and restaurants
throughout the shire. Since then, they had steadily made
a name for themselves with the foodie crowd.
For Tash, cooking and dining were integral parts of
life in a busy world. They embodied family, conversations,
continuation and the memories that bound the people you
loved together.
It didnt take her long to finish the mopping. The truth
was she liked this part of the afternoon, when Alex and the
other staff had gone home, and she could enjoy the silence of
the shop and the hint of cinnamon in the air. It always gave
her a moment to pause, take a breath and reflect on the day.
When she and Alex had taken over the bakery, Tash
had immediately changed the opening hours, much to her
grandmothers horror. Tash had always known that she had
been destined to run the bakery. From an early age shed been
captivated by the magic of baking and her grandmother
had encouraged it. As she grew older, Tash realised that if
The Gumnut was going to survive it would be through her
and Alex, as their mother had no interest in continuing it.
White Gum Creek and the bakery stifled Anna Duroz and
she longed for the day that she could escape both of them.
If it was left to her, Tash knew her Mum would sell up and
move them all to the city, which was the last place Tash
ever wanted to be. The town, the bakery and the family
history were all in Tashs blood, this was not only where she

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 wanted to be, it was where she belonged. Her grandmother
knew that and also that Alex felt the samethats why
shed given the bakery to them.
Tash had held her ground, arguing she needed to chase
large outside orders to supplement the business they did
with the townsfolk. The day started early, and most days
Alex, along with their baking assistant, Joey, were in the
kitchen by 5 am. Tash would join them at about six-thirty,
whipping up a few batches of muffins and scones. After the
baking was done, Alex did the daily deliveries and Tash
looked after the shop until she closed it at four, giving
parents and teachers time to grab a loaf of bread after
schooland the kids the opportunity to buy the sweet stuff
they enjoyed.
Taking over had been hard in the beginning. Her grand-
mother found it difficult to relinquish control. Tash understood
this. When Tash had taken it over, the bakery had been only
been making a small profit. But soon Tash had managed to
improve on it with a lot of hard work and dedication.
And Alex had done his bit. Sure, he may complain every
now and again, but Tash knew that he always had her back
and The Gumnut was just as important to him as it was to
her. Tashs friends said that she had put her personal life on
hold while she consolidated the bakery. That was true, to
a point, but there was another reason she didnt put herself
out there. She was stuck on a guy that didnt even see her ...
Well, not really.
Tash could lie to Sally and Bec, and even to Alex when
she said that she only felt sorry for Nick Langtree. But it was

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 harder to lie to herself. She remembered him from before the
fire. He had a devastating smile and a laugh that was conta-
gious. Hed moved to the area about nine years agoGod,
that was a lifetime ago. She had met him in the bakery, and
she had thought that Sophie Telford was the luckiest girl in
White Gum Creek.
Poor Sophie. Tash winced. Since the accident, Nick had
kept to himself. In the first couple of years, he was like
a ghost; he hardly ventured into town. But in the last year
he had started to come back to The Gumnut at least once
a week.
He wasnt the same man. The smile and the laugh
appeared to have disappeared forever. He seemed small
and hollow and quiet. He wore his dark hair long to cover
the burn mark seared across his right cheek. The backs of
his hands carried more scars, a constant reminder of a day
he must have wanted to forget.
Tash felt sorry for him. She told herself that all she wanted
was for Nick to start living again. It had been six years
and he deserved a little happiness. That was all it was;
he was a lost soul who needed to be found. Sally and Bec
would joke that Tash was trying to rescue Nick, just like
she rescued everything else. Ever since she was a kid, Tash
had rescued animals. If there was a stray dog in town,
nine times out of ten it would end up at the Duroz place.
So would lizards, birds, beetles and even cats, even if they
werent lost and didnt have any particular interest at being
saved, although they never refused a bowl of milk before
they were returned to their rightful owners.

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 But this was different. He might not know it yet, but
Nick Langtree needed Tashs help.

***

Totally sodden, Nick stared in dismay at the large, bright-

red spray-paint angled across the tin wall of his hayshed.
The bloody local kids had been at it again. It was the usual
stuff, and Nick figured he should be used to it by now, but if
he was honest, the taunting words still stung.
Monster, Murderer, Freak.
Maybe what they said was true, maybe he was all those
things and deserved to be tormented. Not that he needed
graffiti to remind him. He managed to do that all by
himselfevery day.
Get Out. You Dont Belong HereLeave Winnterrs Hill.
Damn it, if youre going to spray all over a mans shed,
you could at least get the bloody name right, he muttered.
Maybe it was the only way to stop the guilt, but for
a second he took pleasure thinking about what hed do to
the little shits. Yeah, an all-day grammar lessonthat should
kill their enthusiasm for graffiti.
They must have enjoyed messing with him. They never
took it too farwell, at least, they never harmed the live-
stock or gutted the caravanbut every couple of months they
decided that at least one of his sheds needed redecorating.
Nick wasnt that surprised. He lived a near hermit-like
existence, and Winters Hill was just far enough from White
Gum Creek to appear isolated but still near enough to reach

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 on a bike. There had been a lot of talk over the years about
him in town and what had happened. Some of it was true,
some embellished, and some was a heap of shit. He guessed
that it was only natural that some people would think that
his place was inhabited by some deranged monster, but why
the hell did they have to go and write all over everything?
Nick glanced down at his bandaged hand. At least he
didnt need two hands to paint the wall. He did, however,
need to run into town and grab some paint. He glanced at
the sky. It looked like the rain had set in. Maybe he should
just leave it; if he didnt paint over the words perhaps the
culprits would think he didnt care and lose interest?
He headed back to his caravan. As the rain grew heavier,
little rivulets ran down his dark hair, and Nick shivered as
they trickled down the collar of his plaid shirt. He glanced
over his shoulder at the accusing words. The kicker was that
some of them might be true.

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