The Peppercorn Project Read Online Free PDF

seat. He wore his basketball cap low on his head.
    ‘Can I help you?’ Matt stooped to peer into the window so he could see the driver.
    When he did, his breath caught in surprise. The driver was the prettiest woman he’d seen in a long time.

Chapter 3
    ‘You have got to be joking!’ Fletcher exclaimed minutes later.
    The cars’ headlights illuminated the cabin Isabelle had booked online. She’d vacillated for days before accepting the offer of an interview and had missed getting a room at the only pub in town. When they’d pulled into the Stony Creek Caravan Park, Isabelle’s heart sank. It wasn’t like any resort they’d ever stayed in. A note was sticky taped to the office door, along with a key and directions to their cabin.
    ‘It’s only for two nights and it was all that was left when I made the booking.’
    ‘I bet this whole town is a dump,’ Fletcher grumbled. ‘There’s probably no one here my age either.’
    Mietta stirred in the back seat.
    ‘We’re here, possum.’ Isabelle hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. She didn’t want to admit Fletcher was right – the accommodation was dreadful. She could only hope everything would appear better in the daylight. If not, she’d never be able to convince her kids to move. She exhaled softly, remembering she was out of options. The fact remained, since Dan’s death their lives had changed forever, which meant they were all learning to adjust and find their ‘new normal’ as a family of three, not four.
    Judging by what she’d seen on the quick drive through town to the caravan park, the words in the advertisement may have promised more than Stony Creek could deliver. Fair enough, it was dark, and the welcoming committee slightly rough around the edges, but Isabelle was beginning to have a serious case of cold feet.
    Fletcher hoisted his bag from the boot and tramped across the hard dirt to the cabin. The door was unlocked and he pulled it towards him, the hinges screaming in protest. He flicked a switch and a dim light spread out from inside the cabin. Dismay was written all across his face.
    ‘At least the man we met outside the hotel was friendly enough. Perhaps we’ll see him again tomorrow,’ she said.
    ‘He looked old,’ Mietta replied. ‘But he had kind eyes.’
    Isabelle looked at Mietta in surprise. She thought her daughter had been asleep. The man who had leaned against their car when she’d pulled up outside the pub hadn’t appeared that old. Perhaps early to mid-forties. It was difficult to tell in the dark. The single street light had revealed forearms thick with muscle, and after he’d turned and walked away, her impression was that he was a friendly giant. It had also been hard not to notice the way his denim jeans fitted snugly over his long legs. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t noticed his eyes.
    *
    Five minutes later, after they’d battled the moths and spiders and cobwebs in the concrete toilet and shower block, they were ready for bed. Isabelle longed for a hot shower to wash away the day, but it wasn’t going to happen. She pulled out Mietta’s sleeping bag and unrolled it on the top bunk.
    Mietta darted up the ladder before reaching down and wrapping her arms around Isabelle’s neck. ‘Goodnight, Mummy. I love you.’
    Isabelle felt the familiar tears pierce her eyelids. She had done so well holding it together all day and Mietta’s hug almost tipped her over the edge. She swallowed hard.
    ‘I love you too, sweetheart. Are you ready for bed too, Fletch?’ she asked, hoping they couldn’t hear the sadness in her voice.
    He sat at the little table in the centre of the cabin, eyes on his phone, thumbs moving furiously over the screen. ‘There’s such dodgy mobile service here.’
    ‘Who are you trying to message?’
    ‘I’m trying to Snapchat one of my mates from school.’ He didn’t glance up from the phone.
    ‘It’s late, Fletcher. Perhaps the coverage will be better in the morning.