Esterlita nods. ‘Yes, yes, come in! Can I get you a tea, coffee, some wine perhaps?’
She is hopeless around men. Hopeless. ‘Come on in,’ I say. ‘How’d you hear about the position?’ I ask. The whole town knows, but I don’t recognise him as a local. Esterlita races ahead and goes straight to the kitchen. I send up a silent prayer that she’s not mixing cocktails or whipping up some delicious Filipino dish that she swears is an aphrodisiac. Please just let her bring the guy a glass of water!
We sit at the dining room table and he says, ‘Mike from the Tipsy Tadpole told me. Apparently you need someone sporty and capable of leading a group of campers? I’ve had experience with tour groups before. I used to take groups of hikers along Hadrian’s Wall. Before that I taught surf lessons in Australia. I’ve travelled a fair bit and worked in tourism. But I’m back home now, ready to settle down.’
Esterlita returns bearing a tray with drinks. ‘Ready to settle down, eh?’
Honestly, how does she have that incredible sense of timing?
‘Yeah. I’ve ticked off everything on the bucket list and now I’d like to make a home, somewhere I can stay for good. I’ve been transient for so long; it still feels strange but I love this town and I know it’s as good a place as any to put roots down.’
‘This is certainly the right town for that,’ Esterlita says and fusses with pouring some concoction from jug to glass, clinking in cubes of ice as she goes. I’m hoping it’s not juice laced with vodka – you never can tell with Esterlita.
Noah smiles. ‘Yeah I think so too. It’s a really cool little town and once I got to know a few locals I felt like this was the right place for me. The woodlands and lake are a big drawcard too. I can lose days hiking.’
Esterlita manages to knock into the table and the glasses crash together before shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. I sneak a glance and see she’s bitten down on her lip as if trying to keep words from spilling out. Probably curse words. ‘Leave it, Es,’ I say, worried why she looks so upset over some cheap glassware. ‘I’ll sort it after we chat to Noah.’
‘No, no, I’ll clean it up now. I don’t want anyone hurt. That’s all.’
‘No one will get hurt, it’ll be fine.’
‘But they will, they will,’ she says and bustles off. Must be another Filipino superstition I don’t know about where breaking glasses is bad luck or something.
When she comes back she’s composed. ‘Here.’ She puts fresh glasses on the table. ‘Let’s try that again! Sorry I’m such a butterfingers.’
‘Sit down, Es, I’ll pour the drinks.’ I hand them each a glass and take a seat next to Esterlita. ‘So, Noah, do you have any references? A CV?’ He certainly looks the part of camp leader, with his athletic physique and khaki outfit, like he spends all day hiking the woodlands.
The apples of his cheeks are pink. ‘I should’ve been more organised. Sorry, I wasn’t sure what you’d need and I didn’t bring anything. I can give you some phone numbers, character references that you can call but I don’t actually have a CV. My work has been more of the backpacker kind, picking up bits and pieces here and there. Walking tours, hikes, bikes, surfing, that sort of stuff. I taught English in Japan for a bit. I’ve worked in cafés and bars around the world. I guess you could say I’m a jack of all trades.’
Noah could be the perfect camp leader with qualifications such as his. He’s athletic, has experience and seems easy-going, like the type of guy who’d remain unruffled under pressure. ‘OK, yeah, whatever phone numbers you’ve got would be great. Can I ask you some you questions about how you’d handle scenarios that might crop up?’
‘Sure,’ he says with a smile.
‘How would you handle a nervous camper, say someone who was scared to try any of the activities, or felt like an outsider?’
He taps his chin with a finger. ‘I’d take them aside and remind them why they’re here, which is to step outside their comfort zone and try new things, and assure them I’ll be with them every step of the way.’
‘Nice, I like that. And what if you needed to administer first aid? Are you up to date with that?’
‘Yes, I had to take a first aid course in Australia when I was a surf instructor. I’m the full bottle on it and won’t hesitate to help even if it’s only a plaster they might need. I’ll make sure I’m well prepared for anything.’
I quiz Noah for a while longer and am impressed with his on-the-spot answers and fill him in on the camp and what we hope to achieve now and as we grow.
‘Honestly,’ he says, ‘it sounds like my dream job. I hope you’ll consider me for the position.’ With that he takes a sip of the drink and scrunches his face up. What has she put in it this time?
‘I will. I’ll check your references and we’ll go from there. Would you be happy to start next week a few days before the first lot of campers arrive?’
‘For sure.’
‘We can go through my itinerary and you can tell me what you think is viable, weather permitting, and how long each activity will take and we can make up a schedule so they know exactly what they’re in for.’
‘Ready when you are.’
We shake on it. I catch Esterlita’s eye but she’s shifty-eyed as if she’s still embarrassed about the water glasses. ‘I’ll wait for your call,’ Noah says as I walk him to the door and wave him off.
Inside, Esterlita is still mute so I hurry to reassure her. ‘Es, we’re going to have a lot of breakages here; it’s no big deal.’ I smile and wait, expecting she’ll have something lascivious to say about Noah, but she doesn’t respond. Instead she looks to the dappled sunlight and sighs.
‘I’m tired today, Orly. I’m not myself.’
I’ve never seen the Firecracker so dejected before. ‘Aw, Es. You’re doing too much around here, that’s why. You need to have a break, have a few days where you sloth on your sofa and read romance novels, OK? Stop your research about the hall and it’s mysterious links to … the KGB or whoever it was. I love having you here, but you have to look after yourself, too.’ Guilt rushes me at Esterlita working so hard to help me and putting her own health at risk. ‘Can I make you dinner for a change, Es? You can put your feet up and let me look after you.’
‘You’re sweet but no. I’ve seen your attempts at cooking and I don’t need a tummy bug on top of everything else.’
‘There’s the Es I know!’ I laugh, knowing she’s probably right. Cooking is best left to the experts or the microwave. Esterlita bustles off home while I call Noah’s references who assure me he’s a reliable and energetic employee. I call Noah and offer him the position of camp leader and he hoots and hollers as if he’s won the lottery. I think the first camp is going to be a success!
*
Taking Maya’s advice, I schedule a day off on Sunday. After seeing Esterlita so bone-weary, I know I can’t afford to get like that, either, even though there’s still so much to be done. So I take a day to myself to wander around Eden Hills and explore.
Mid-morning, I stumble on a tiny little shop down the back of a laneway. I can tell by the lemony scent alone there’s something magical about it. A sign swaying in the breeze says: The Little Shop of Lost and Found. This is the kind of place I find treasures for my collection and I didn’t think such a place would exist so close to the hall. It buoys me up that I just might have somewhere to escape to when I need it, somewhere I can while away time looking for precious gems …
I push open the door and wind chimes tinkle, alerting the shopkeeper to my presence. ‘Hello there,’ a voice says from behind the counter. I can’t see who it belongs to so I make my way through the labyrinth of curiosities until I’m rewarded with the sight of a grey-haired woman wearing a brightly coloured kaftan.
‘Hello,’ I say. ‘I’m so happy I’ve stumbled across your shop!’
She gives me a wide smile. ‘Thank you. I’m Lilac. Were you looking for anything in particular?’
‘I’m a philatelist,’ I go to explain when I s
ee she knows exactly what the word means.
‘A collector of stamp and postage memorabilia. You’re not the only one in Eden Hills. It’s a shame that it’s not as popular a hobby these days. So many things to be discovered if only you care to spend the time looking.’
‘That’s exactly how I feel.’
‘Come through,’ Lilac says, motioning to a maze of threadbare carpet to follow. It’s like following the yellow brick road, with twists and turns through precarious stacks of leather-bound books and occasional tables full of delicate trinkets like glass vases and candelabras. I realise the shop is surprisingly spacious as we make our way through, coming to a room filled with glass cabinets.
‘Oh!’ Inside the cabinets are all sorts of stamps and postage paraphernalia. There are stamps worth a lot of money, rare collections that I know on sight, but they’re not the ones I go for. I prefer the singles, the ones with a story, the ones that have actually been affixed to an envelope and travelled somewhere before being gently soaked off and dried. They’re worth less for avid collectors but not for me.
‘Shall I leave you to peruse?’ Lilac says, bringing me a stool. ‘The cabinets aren’t locked so feel free to take a closer look.’
‘Thank you.’ Lilac bustles back the way she came and I spend a few delightful hours agonising over what to buy. When I come across a letter with a mention of the hall my pulse quickens. And I know whatever it costs I have to have it. It reads:
Dearest George,
I miss you terribly and count the days until we can be reunited once more. Time seems interminable whilst we’re apart and it is all I can do not to dwell on it lest I am miserable company and become an object of pity. The girls here are gregarious and frivolous; I do wonder if they’ll ever find suitable husbands, as they don’t seem to have the deportment for such things. Perhaps, I’m just missing you and it is clouding my judgement?
The hall itself is a marvellous place to stay, although rumours abound that it is haunted. I am yet to see any evidence of this myself. The gardens have been a tonic and I spent an inordinate amount of my day wandering through them, enjoying birdsong and the perfume of honeysuckles that grow abundantly along the lake.
Father has written and says he will allow you to pay him a visit. Although, you know what he is like and is likely to change his mind and tell me once again that I must marry a man who is my equal. I do not understand why I cannot marry for love. However, I do have hope that he might change his mind considering he agreed to meet with you.
I wish you were here. Or I there.
All my love,
Elizabeth
What a relic to find! My mind spins with it all. Did Elizabeth marry George? Did her father agree, even though it sounds like he was in a different class to her? Did they have children? Sadly there are no surnames on the letter so I don’t even know how I’d begin to search for them.
I take the letter and a handful of stamps and wend my way back to the counter.
‘You found it!’ Lilac says. ‘These things tend to have a way of finding those who understand.’
‘Do you know what happened to them?’
‘No idea.’ Lilac gives me a dazzling smile that says otherwise.
‘I wonder if they were married, if they went against convention.’
Lilac’s glasses sail down the bridge of her nose as she stares at me. ‘Do you think her father summoned the young man to a meeting to give him their blessing?’
My heart falls. ‘No, no I don’t. I think he probably threatened him to stay away from his daughter.’
‘I had that feeling too.’
‘I don’t suppose this letter is for sale?’
Lilac’s face crinkles into a smile. ‘Of course it is. Somewhere out there, there’s a reply. Isn’t that just the thing? Not knowing where to find it.’
‘And if it still exists.’
Lilac stays silent and I wonder if there’s more to this little mystery than meets the eye …
Chapter 19
Later in the week I find another note scrunched up by the back deck: Your business isn’t welcome in Eden Hills. This is your last warning.
I really hope it’s the last warning, because they have the ability to upset my entire day.
I’m angrily tending the veggie patch, taking my frustrations out on the weeds while confiding to the thyme and basil when a shadow falls over me. ‘Leo, hi. I was just, erm …’
‘Sharing secrets with the herbs, I get it.’
I smile. ‘Something like that.’ I don’t even bother to tell Leo about the note – I don’t want to give it any more of my time or energy.
He grins. ‘We’re all done.’
‘Like done done?’ Wow, what a hold you have of the English language, Orly! I stand and dust myself off. We’ve both been busy finalising the last of the renovations – Leo doing his bit here, and me doing mine inside the office – that time has once again run away from us these last few days.
‘Yep, like done done.’
‘Wow, I don’t know who I’m going to be without the noise of … whatever it is that makes that horrendous noise and you all coming and going.’ I fold my arms, marvelling that we’re finished, the hall has had its grand makeover, and soon people will be traipsing up and down the parquetry wearing wide smiles as they spend a week trying new things!
‘You’re the proud owner of a fully rejuvenated Honeysuckle Hall and soon you’ll be surrounded by happy campers.’
‘Yeah, new faces every week.’ Which means more goodbyes too. I’m still missing Maya, like I’ve lost my right hand, and it aches a little.
‘Do you want to come and check everything is A-OK, before we leave?’
‘Sure.’ I follow Leo to the front of the hall, feeling a strange sense of desolation. It strikes me that I’ll be saying a lot of goodbyes on this new venture, but saying goodbye to Leo is odd. I’ll miss our early morning coffees, our late-night meetings, heads pressed together planning the next day. Even the happy smiles of his crew as they go about their days.
I guess some farewells will tug at the heartstrings, and others I’ll be counting down the minutes until they’re out of sight.
‘Close your eyes,’ Leo says.
I do a silly little screech-jump thing. I’ve been busting to see inside the hall for the last few days but Leo wouldn’t hear a word of it. Told me he wanted the final reveal to be a surprise.
He laughs and covers my eyes with the palm of his hand. A shiver races the length of me. Must be excitement. It’s not his proximity, but with the world suddenly blacked out all I can sense is him, the ocean scent of his aftershave. I feel his pulse quicken too.
I stumble and he rights me. ‘Sorry, I can’t see.’
‘I’ve got you,’ he says into my ear and it’s all I can do not to fall. Am I that man-deprived I get this sensation when one is touching me in the most innocent of ways? How mortifying.
‘OK, small steps. I won’t let you go.’
I shuffle forward and feel the temperature drop as I enter the hall.
‘Don’t scream,’ he says and removes his hand.
I blink several times before I duly scream and then clamp my hand over my mouth. I’m not usually an overexcited person but the transformation is incredible. ‘Oh, Leo, I knew it would look good but I didn’t expect this …’ The dark dingy hall has been transformed with big new chandeliers. The leadlight windows have been replaced and glorious kaleidoscopic sunshine streams in through the stained glass and shoots prisms of colourful light on the stone floor like some kind of immersive art experience. The panelling is polished and all of the furniture has been moved into place, including some truly gaudy dolphin cushions. Where does she get them from!? On the walls are huge framed photographs of the woodlands and the lake. Close-ups of the fruit trees ripe with apples with bubbles of early morning dew on the skins. ‘Did you …?’
‘A little gift.’
‘Aww, Leo, these would have cost a fortune just for the frames, let
alone the photographs. Who took them?’
‘I did.’
‘They’re beautiful and they suit this space so well. Thank you.’ I’m so touched by his gift. ‘I’ll pay you for them.’
‘Then it’s not a gift.’
‘You’ve done so much already.’
‘It’s nothing.’ He waves me away. ‘Check out the kitchen.’
The once run-down space has been transformed with white country-cottage-style kitchen cupboards and a butcher block bench. ‘I don’t think I want anyone to cook in here now. It’s too nice for all that.’ I take my phone from my jeans pocket and start taking snaps to share on social media.
‘Next up, the bedrooms. All you need to do now is make up the beds and hang the towels.’
The rooms were a dusty, dirty mess but they’ve been fully cleaned. The windows shine and the electrics are fixed. Leo’s team managed to restore the wrought-iron beds where rust had leached in, which saved me such a lot of money. To look at them now you’d never know. The new mattresses sit loftily atop, patiently waiting to be dressed.
New curtains hang jauntily by the small windows, making the room appear grand, like a suite rather than a room. The small desks each have a green banker lamp atop, and a notebook and a pen with the Honeysuckle Hall logo stamped on both.
‘Wow!’ I say, inspecting the notebook. ‘This is beautiful!’
‘They’re a gift from Maya. She had pens and notebooks made and put into every room for guests. She also supplied boxes of travel-sized shampoos, conditioners, and body wash for the bathrooms with the camp logo on them. She wanted it to be a surprise.’
‘Aww.’ Tears well up thinking of her planning such a thoughtful gift for the campers. ‘She’s such a sweetheart.’ I head into the tiny en suite and see the little navy-blue bottles set up on the vanity. They’ll match the towels and the colour scheme we have planned perfectly.
I blink back tears. ‘I’m amazed at the transformation. It doesn’t look like the same place – but it’s more than that, it has a totally different feel to it. It almost feels regal, somehow. Brought back to life and ready for the sound of laughter, the tinkling of cutlery, the crackle of a fire at the end of a long day spent outdoors.’
Escape to Honeysuckle Hall Page 19
