The Bridesmaid's Baby by Barbara Hannay Page B

back door, Seamus and Harry bounded inside, greeting her with doggy kisses and fiercely wagging tails, as if she’d been away for six months.
    At last the dogs calmed down and she turned to Will. ‘I think you’ve earned a drink.’
    ‘I believe I have,’ he agreed and he immediately began to remove his jacket and tie.
    Lucy drew a sharp breath, already doubting the soundness of this idea. But she couldn’t send Will packing after he’d been so helpful. Surely two old friends could have a drink together?
    ‘What are you in the mood for?’ Oh, cringe. What a question. ‘Alcohol or coffee?’ she added quickly.
    She opened the fridge. ‘If you’d like alcohol, I’m afraid there’s only beer or white wine.’
    Will chose beer and Lucy poured a glass of wine for herself. She found a wedge of Parmesan cheese and freshly shelled walnuts and set them on a platter with crackers and slices of apple.
    ‘Come on through to the lounge room,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty shabby, though. I started renovating the kitchen and then ran out of enthusiasm.’
    Tonight, however, Lucy was surprised. She hadn’t drawn the curtains and the lounge room, now flooded by moonlight, had taken on a strangely ethereal beauty. The shabbiness had all but disappeared and the garish colours of the cotton throws she’d used to cover the tattered upholstery had taken on a subtle glow.
    ‘I might leave the lights off,’ she said. ‘This room is definitely improved by moonlight.’
    ‘Everything’s improved by moonlight.’
    She studiously ignored this comment in the same way that she avoided the sofa and flopped into a deep, comfy single chair instead.
    With a be-my-guest gesture she directed Will to theother chair. Then, as the dogs settled on the floor, heads on paws, niggles of disquiet returned to haunt her. It was such a long time since she and Will had been alone like this.
    ‘Try some Parmesan and apple,’ she said, diving for safety by offering him the plate. ‘Have you tried them together? It’s a nice combination.’
    Will obliged and made appropriately, appreciative noises.
    Lucy took a sip of wine. In many ways this was one of her favourite fantasies—talking to Will late into the night. But in the fantasies there’d been no awkwardness. They had been as comfortable and relaxed as they were ten years ago, before they’d drifted apart.
    Lucy wondered what they would discuss now. Will had hinted that he had specific things he wanted to talk about. Would he raise them now? She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear his thoughts on marriage and babies and being over the hill.
    Perhaps he still felt that tonight wasn’t the night to be deep and meaningful. She searched for a safe topic that didn’t include weddings, or honeymoons, or babies.
    ‘So, have you started hunting for a new job?’ she asked.
    ‘I haven’t put in any applications yet.’ Will settled more comfortably into his chair, crossed an ankle over a knee. ‘But I’ve found a few positions I might apply for. There’s even one in Armidale, at the university.’
    ‘In Armidale?’ So close? To cover her surprise, Lucy said, ‘I have trouble picturing you as an academic behind a desk.’
    He shrugged. ‘I thought it would make a nice change, after years of hiking over deserts and mountains looking for rocks.’
    ‘There’s that, I guess.’ She couldn’t resist adding facetiously, ‘I suppose geology is a young man’s job.’
    Will smiled into his glass, took a swig, then set it down.
    ‘I imagine your parents would like you to take up farming,’ she suggested.
    ‘They’ve never mentioned it.’ He sighed. ‘They’re actually talking about selling up.’
    ‘Really?’ Lucy stared at him, horrified.
    ‘My mother’s been bitten by the travel bug.’
    ‘She must have caught it from you.’
    Will smiled crookedly. ‘Perhaps.’
    ‘But your family’s been farming Tambaroora for five generations.’
    ‘And now they’ve come to the end of the