‘Daryl’s way ahead of you,’ Bob said. ‘I thought they would have arrived by now. We’ll need them for crowd control soon.’
A constant stream of people were filling the garden. The Hazara women had arrived and Aima was glancing around looking worried. With Jade tied up filming, Helen wished Fiza was here to explain what was happening. She could see Kubra watching Milo, who was oblivious to the chaos and cheerfully pushing a toy digger in the dirt.
Aima suddenly turned, her headscarf floating in the breeze, and she crossed the garden to meet Lachlan as he walked out of the trees. Helen relaxed.
Judith was arguing with Jade, who was filming her walking towards the Hazara women. Lachlan, standing between Judith and the women, ducked and weaved like a rugby player every time Judith tried to get around him, except Helen knew he’d never played—it was dancing that made him nimble.
I told all of you. Helen rolled Judith’s words around in her head. She knew Judith had spent weeks complaining about her and the garden to all the councillors. Had the gang of four thought they could shut Judith up by making her think this morning was her idea? Except they hadn’t counted on Judith’s passion for the orchard. And thank goodness for that fervour—it would work in Helen’s favour.
‘Oh, my God, that woman.’ Vivian blew out a breath. ‘We both know whose name is on the paperwork, don’t we?’
Helen nodded. ‘And I’m going to out the lot of them today.’
‘It’s tempting, but you risk them banding together to deny everything, sue you for slander and throw you under the excavator. They’ll promise an enquiry, which will take months and buy them time to get all their ducks back in a row. We’ve both worked too hard to let that happen.’
Helen thought about her and Bob’s IBAC complaint that was thankfully lodged in the system and able to complement any internal investigation of wrongdoing. Part of her understood Vivian’s point of view and she’d respected it up to now, but this time she was privy to incriminating information.
‘I hear what you’re saying, Vivian—’
‘That’s a relief. I know it’s hard to hold the line, but today’s not the day to fold.’
Bob’s hand suddenly rested on Helen’s back, his thumb pressing firmly on her lumbar spine. Electricity sparked, detonating tiny explosions all over her. She jerked away, stunned that her body still knew how to respond, and risked a look at him. But there was no flirting sparkle in his eyes—just serious intent—and an almost imperceptible tilt of his head towards the drive.
Three cars were winding their way to the now very crowded area in front of the cottage. Peter Granski and a photographer from The Standard alighted from one vehicle, Fiza and Tara from the second, and Constable Fiora from the third.
Daryl emerged from his cab and spoke to the police officer, while Judith abandoned her quest to get past Lachlan and marched down the hill towards Daryl.
Jade hurried over to the veranda. ‘Judith’s like a chook with her head cut off. I’ve got some awesome footage.’
‘Put it on Facebook,’ Vivian said savagely.
Fiza and Tara distributed the food.
‘Sorry, Vivian,’ Tara said. ‘We didn’t know you were part of the protest otherwise we’d have got you coffee too.’
‘That’s fine,’ Vivian said tightly. ‘But can we please focus on our plan instead of food.’
‘We’ll all think better on full stomachs,’ Bob said.
Daryl and Constable Fiora approached the steps.
‘Morning, Helen, Bob,’ the police officer said. ‘I need you to unchain yourselves so Mr Moore here can carry out the job he’s been employed to do.’
‘Not without a new set of keys, I can’t,’ Daryl muttered.
‘With no disrespect to Daryl,’ Helen said, ‘don’t you think, Constable, you should at least check that all the documents pertaining to the demolition of this building are legal.’
A line of sweat beaded on the young constable’s brow. ‘Why? Is there a heritage listing on this house?’
‘There should be,’ Tara said. ‘And I’ve been told by the mayor that the building’s to be moved not demolished.’
‘Hah! Join the club,’ Vivian said. ‘Geoff Rayson’s skill lies in telling you what you want to know.’
‘I’ve rung him this morning,’ Tara said. ‘I’m expecting him to call back any minute.’
Vivian snorted. ‘Good luck with that. He and Sheree are on their way to Toowoomba to look at horses. But even if he was here, he’d deny everything. It’s what he does time and time again.’ She turned to face the growing crowd. ‘Who heard the mayor on family day? He couldn’t give us a straight answer about Riverfarm, could he? Why? Because he was planning this the whole time.’
‘Save our orchard!’ Judith called out.
‘Save Riverfarm!’ Lachlan yelled, waving his hand like a conductor, encouraging people to join in. ‘No resort! No resort!’
‘That’s a pretty serious accusation, Councillor Leppart,’ Constable Fiora said.
‘I’m just calling it like it is. Ask Helen. She’s had concerns about the mayor’s activities for months.’
‘Concerns aren’t evidence.’ The cacophony of shouts behind them grew louder. ‘I’m going to call the Sarge.’
Tara muttered something that sounded like ‘pig’ but Helen must have misheard.
Vivian cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted into the crowd, ‘The Shire of Mookarii deserves better.’
‘We do!’ they shouted back.
‘Unlike some councillors, I’ve always put community first.’ Vivian started listing the projects and programs she’d instigated until she was drowned out mid-sentence by Judith.
‘It’s the mayor!’
‘Ask the mayor!’ Lachlan chanted, conducting the crowd.
‘Ask the mayor!’ they responded. ‘Ask the mayor!’
‘I thought he was out of town?’ Bob said.
‘Apparently not.’ Helen craned her neck, trying to see around Vivian. ‘I can’t believe he came. Tara—’
But Tara was gone. Helen could see Fiza, courtesy of her height, but not much else.
‘Aren’t we supposed to be the centre of our own protest?’ she said.
Bob patted her knee. ‘A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.’
‘Source?’
‘Greek proverb.’
‘One day you’ll have to tell me how the
