fire danger’s a real concern,” Adam agreed.
“You’re telling me. Every house on our block went up in flames except ours. My husband went out and bought ten lottery tickets. Me, I called Mort.”
“Who’s Mort?”
“The real estate agent. Thank God his office didn’t burn. I listed our house first thing. Bob, my husband, thinks I’m a coward. I told him, ‘You can stay but I’m getting out.’”
Diane had been working part-time for a local Realtor before she’d gone to Sydney—Mort must have been her boss. “Well, Belinda, I happen to think you’re smart for not wanting to live in a fire-prone region.”
“Thanks very much. You’re pretty smart yourself.” She scanned a box of cereal and bagged it. “Are you a local? I figure you must be with all the groceries you’re buying. No one buys four bags of sugar for the weekend. But if you don’t know Mort...” She trailed off, waiting for an explanation.
“I live here for now.”
“How long are you staying?” Belinda seemed to have all the time in the world to chat. And apparently she thought he did, too.
“I don’t know. Four or five months. Six tops.”
She swung the filled bag over to the loading area and started on the next. “I’d say that makes you a local.”
“No, really, I’m just passing through.”
She cocked her head with an infectious grin. “But slowly.”
He smiled back at her. “Yeah, slowly.”
Too slowly for his liking. In business he was the hare, not the tortoise. He moved quickly and decisively. Now he had to put on the brakes and wait for Summer to heal.
Belinda cracked her gum. “So what’s the deal, are you trying to sell your house and not getting any bites? Join the club.”
Now she had his attention. “Are that many people leaving? There seems to be a lot of building going on.”
“People are either determined to stay or determined to leave. It all depends. So what’s holding you up?”
“It’s complicated.” Did people really spill their guts to complete strangers in this town? He never had conversations like this with the guy at the convenience store below his apartment building. He liked Belinda all right, but he wasn’t sure he wanted a heart-to-heart with her.
“Hold your cards close to your chest, don’t you? That’s okay. We all got personal shit going on. I won’t even ask you about all the sugar.”
Adam smiled. “Two bags for me. Two for a friend.”
“Sweet on her, are ya?” Belinda winked at him.
He chuckled. Not likely.
“If you ask me,” Belinda went on. “The government should buy us all out and bulldoze the town. Everyone should move someplace where the firefighters have a chance to put out the fire and where residents can get out safely. There’s only one road in and out of this place. It was cut off in three spots. People were trapped.”
“But there were warnings of extreme fire danger,” Adam said. “People should have left earlier.”
“Maybe so. But folks have a legal right to stay and defend their property.” Belinda stacked the last grocery bag in the cart and rang up the total. “That’ll be one hundred and fifty-five dollars and twenty-eight cents. Any cash out?”
Adam handed over his credit card, then checked his wallet. He had only sixty dollars on him. “I’ll have an extra hundred, thanks.”
She rang it through and passed him two fifty-dollar bills. Adam dropped them both into the bushfire rebuilding donation jar on the counter. “I can’t believe the town is relying on spare change to fund a new community center.”
“There’s a long list of stuff that needs replacing. The primary school, the maternal health clinic, half the police station...” Belinda shrugged. “It’s all going to take time, I guess. They have to start somewhere.”
He threw in another fifty from his wallet, leaving himself ten dollars.
Belinda’s eyes widened. “Thanks, er...”
“Adam.” He gathered up his bags. “Nice to meet you, Belinda.”
“Same.” She grinned widely. “See you around.”
“I hope not.” When she looked surprised, he added, “If I don’t, it’ll mean you sold your house and got out.”
Belinda laughed and cocked a finger at him. “Gotcha.”
Adam piled the groceries into the car and continued on down the main street, brooding on the state of the town. Nine months on there was still the faint whiff of burned wood in the air. Or was that his imagination?
He wasn’t a coward, dammit. People like him and Belinda were being sensible. Why didn’t more townsfolk cut their losses and start new lives elsewhere?
Spying the real estate office, he parked out front and went inside.
A balding man with a perfectly pressed dark suit and a white smile rose from behind a desk, buttoning his jacket. He held out a hand. “G’day. Mort Brooks. What can I do for you?”
“Adam Banks. I live out of town at a place called Timbertop. Diane Banks is my ex-wife. I believe she used to work for you.”
“Yes, nice to meet you,” Mort said. “I was sorry Diane had to leave. Although business isn’t exactly booming so it’s probably for the best. How is she? How’s her mother doing?”
Seemed like the whole town knew your business if you spent any amount of time in the place. To be fair, Mort genuinely seemed to care, and that was kind of nice. “As well as can be expected. She hasn’t had the operation yet.”
“If you talk to her, tell her I said hey.”
“Will do.” Adam glanced around the empty office. “Diane doesn’t plan on returning to Hope Mountain, and I don’t intend to stay long. I’d like to have Timbertop valued and put up for sale this summer.”
Mort’s smile dimmed. “You and a hundred other folks in the area. Nothing’s moving in this glutted market.”
“My place isn’t burned. It’s intact. Great location with views, horse stables and paddocks, five acres...” He trailed away as Mort, looking more like a funeral director than a Realtor, shook his head glumly.
“I’ll value it for you and I can put it on the market, no problem. But fantastic properties are going at bargain-basement prices. The question you have to ask yourself is—are you willing to take a bath on the place?”
Adam thought about it for all of five seconds. “I’ll take whatever I can get for it. It’ll be worthless to me if it burns to the ground.”
“Is
