The Sun in Her Eyes

by Paige Toon

  ‘How exciting,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘And you? Are you still teaching?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Oh dear! What happened?’

  ‘I quit last summer. I wanted to try to earn a bit more money with a better-paid job so we could afford to buy something of our own.’ That’s the short explanation. There’s more to it than that, but I’m not going to go into it. ‘The new job didn’t work out, either, unfortunately,’ I continue. ‘I’m a bit of a mess at the moment, I’m afraid.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Never.’ Ruth gives a ferocious shake of her head. ‘You came back at the right time,’ she says quietly. ‘Of course, you didn’t have a choice,’ she adds apologetically. ‘But I’m glad that you’re here, Amber. You’ve been taking Ethan’s mind off things, more than you know.’ She inclines her head towards her son at the other end of the table. I flash him a look to see him smiling and nodding at something the blonde is saying. My stomach unwittingly contracts. ‘He’s been lonely,’ she continues. ‘Such an awful year. But it’s been tough for a while, if we’re being honest.’

  ‘What’s it like having him at home?’ I ask.

  ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she says affectionately, relaxing back in her seat. ‘More washing, cooking, cleaning and ironing, but what can you do?’

  ‘Make him do his own washing and ironing!’ I exclaim.

  ‘You wait until you have a son, and then tell me if you don’t spoil him rotten at every opportunity.’

  I smile at her.

  ‘Any children on the horizon?’ she asks hopefully.

  I hastily shake my head. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Well, don’t leave it too long,’ she warns, glancing at Ethan again. ‘I do wonder, if Sadie hadn’t fallen pregnant…’ Her voice trails off.

  ‘What?’ I pry.

  ‘Just ignore me. I’ve had too much to drink.’

  ‘Well, I’ve had too much to eat.’ I stare with dismay at the crumbly, melt-in-the-mouth tart that I’ve barely made a dent in. ‘I feel absolutely stuffed.’

  ‘You could go for a small walk before Joanne brings out the cheese,’ she suggests.

  ‘Cheese?’ I ask with horror, but her attention is elsewhere. I follow the line of her sight to see Ethan raising his eyebrows at her from the other end of the table. I glance back to see Ruth shrugging guiltily. Then she jerks her head towards me and the next thing I know, Ethan is on his feet and coming our way.

  ‘Mum,’ he says meaningfully and there’s a question mark in his intonation.

  ‘Amber was just saying how full she is. Why don’t you take her for a stroll before the next course?’

  ‘Sure,’ he says, resting his hands on the back of my chair and helping to pull it out from the table.

  ‘You happy?’ I check with Nell before standing up.

  ‘Yes, yes…’ She waves me away, turning back to George. Tina and I exchange an amused look before I go after Ethan. He’s already about ten metres away, his hands shoved into his pockets and his broad shoulders hunched.

  ‘You in a hurry?’ I whisper loudly.

  ‘I am a bit,’ he replies, his brow furrowed.

  ‘Why?’ I ask as soon as we’re out of earshot.

  ‘Mum. Trying to matchmake,’ he grumbles.

  For a split second I think he means with me, and my heart almost falters, but then I realise he’s talking about the blonde at the end of the table.

  ‘Not your type?’ I ask as he leads me through a gate into the vineyard.

  ‘I don’t have a type,’ he replies.

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ I say drily.

  ‘What?’ he asks innocently.

  ‘You’ve been with Sadie for so long I’ve almost discounted the number of girls you used to go out with.’

  ‘I wasn’t that bad.’

  I say nothing.

  ‘Was I?’ he asks with surprise.

  I just shrug.

  ‘Well, I don’t remember you being single for vast amounts of time,’ he points out.

  I change the subject. ‘My head is pretty fuzzy. I thought you weren’t supposed to get drunk with wine tastings.’

  He stares at me in disbelief. ‘That only applies if you spit out the wine.’

  ‘Oh. Whoops.’

  He laughs. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing.’

  ‘It’s rare that anyone accuses me of that.’

  He flashes me a sideways grin that makes my tummy feel funny.

  We come to a stop and stand side by side, looking across the vineyard that spans all the way down to the creek. I take a deep breath and smile.

  ‘Is the rope still there?’ I ask.

  ‘Nah. It rotted away years ago.’

  ‘Shame. Could have done with a swing.’

  I don’t look at him to see the smirk that I know is there as we continue our walk.

  The blue sky is bleached-out and pale, but the grapevines are a vibrant, rich green, the last of the sun streaming through the leaves, illuminating some to an even more brilliant hue. The space between each row of vines is covered with dry, yellow grass and the occasional Salvation Jane, a so-called weed with pretty purple flowers. Ethan bends down and tugs a couple out of the ground as we walk.

  ‘What happened to the sprinklers?’ I ask, remembering that time from our childhood.

  ‘Gone. We only use drip irrigation these days. Saves water.’

  ‘So tell me about this land you’re buying. You want to expand?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ he replies eagerly. ‘I want to plant some Riesling. We don’t do any white wines at the moment, but the Riesling will ripen earlier than our reds, so we could have them harvested, fermented and mostly racked off before we start the reds.’ He’s clearly caught up in the idea. ‘The land I’m looking at in Eden Valley is stunning. It’s a little rocky, so we’d need to excavate in parts to get it ready for the vines, but I’m hoping to use the rocks to build a house up there.’

  ‘It sounds absolutely idyllic.’ I’m a little envious.

  ‘Mmm.’ He smiles. ‘I’ll have to wait for the divorce to come through first, though,’ he says wryly.

  ‘Will you take me up there one weekend?’ I ask. Weekdays are going to be a bit tricky once Dad comes home.

  ‘Yeah! Let’s take the E-Type for a spin,’ he says with enthusiasm. ‘How about this Sunday? Once we begin harvesting, it’ll be all hands on deck.’

  ‘I can do that,’ I reply, already feeling excited at the prospect.

  ‘Hang on, no, I can’t,’ he remembers. ‘Sadie wants me to have the kids. Probably seeing David,’ he adds sardonically. ‘Next Sunday?’

  ‘I’ll put it in my very busy diary,’ I joke.

  We walk on in comfortable silence. ‘What was Mum saying to you?’ he asks after a minute.

  ‘She says you’re lonely,’ I tell him truthfully.

  He doesn’t respond.

  ‘And she says you make her do all your washing.’

  He half laughs, his heart not really in it.

  ‘And she says I came home at the right time,’ I add carefully. ‘To take your mind off things.’

  A moment passes and then he reaches over and takes my hand. ‘You did.’ He gives it a gentle squeeze that resonates through my entire body.

  I glance up at him to see him smiling down at me with sincere, genuine love in his eyes. Platonic love. Brotherly love.

  I smile a small smile and detach my hand, tracing my fingers along a knotted, gnarled vine and tugging at a shredded strand of bark until it comes loose in my fingers. I swoop down and pull up another handful of wayward Salvation Jane, bringing it to my nose. The scent evokes a long-forgotten memory.

  ‘We had a picnic in a field full of Salvation Jane,’ I say, as the vision swirls around my brain until it’s all-encompassing.

  Indigo fields, vivid blue skies, hot sun, sweaty hair, black ants…

  My smile widens. ‘You got bitten by an ant.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he rep
lies slowly. ‘And you got sunburnt.’

  He says it at the same time as I think it.

  ‘We were late getting back here and Dad was already waiting,’ I say. ‘He was so angry, he threatened to cancel my next playdate at your house, but I cried so much that he reconsidered.’

  He grins. ‘I remember.’ A moment later, he glances down at the creek and then up to the house.

  ‘Time to get back?’ I ask reluctantly.

  His brow furrows. ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘Come on, then.’

  He smiles and pats my back as we turn round.

  Chapter 12

  The sun sets, the outdoor lights are switched on and the mosquitoes come out with a vengeance. It’s lovely being outdoors, but eventually we move inside to the formal dining room, although we’re acting anything but formal with all the wine we’ve consumed. My friends are mingling and chatting with some of the other group, and Ethan has brought out a few bottles to do a wine tasting at the table with the rest of us: the blonde, who I’ve discovered is called Trudy, and two of her colleagues, a plain woman called Nerys, and an older man named Martin.

  We’re on to our second wine. The first vintage – a young vine Shiraz – ‘exploded’ with fruit in Martin’s mouth and had a ‘soft, sweet and oaky finish’, allegedly. I liked it a lot.

  Ethan pours another small amount of wine for each of us in four pristine wine glasses. ‘This is our premium Shiraz,’ he says.

  Martin swirls the liquid around his glass. He looks to be in his early forties and has been quaffing wine tonight like it’s water. I think he might be the boss who’s quite possibly paying for this out-of-office excursion. ‘It’s got good legs,’ he says thoughtfully, before taking a good, long sniff. ‘It’s more muted on the nose than the last wine. More spice, cloves, Christmas cake…’

  ‘It’s a beautiful colour,’ Trudy comments.

  ‘Impenetrable,’ Martin agrees.

  How is Ethan keeping a straight face?

  ‘What do you think, A?’ he asks me, a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Yum,’ I reply, knocking it back.

  He pulls out four fresh glasses. Next, a young vine Cabernet Sauvignon, which, Martin proclaims, ‘Reeks of eucalyptus!’

  It does taste a little minty, I find myself thinking. Again, it’s delicious.

  The third wine, a premium Cab Sauv, is ‘opaque’ like the Shiraz with ‘intense cassis aromas’, according to Nerys.

  Martin declares its finish is ‘very, very good’, and I can’t disagree with him.

  Finally, Ethan brings out Lockwood House Creek Shiraz, which is made with grapes from the seventy-five-year-old vines situated down near the creek. This one, I’m not so sure about. It’s sort of pungent and musty and, weirdly, a little salty.

  ‘Hmm,’ Martin says, inhaling deeply with his bulbous nose.

  ‘Wow,’ Trudy enthuses, smacking her lips.

  ‘I’m not sure I like it,’ I dare to admit.

  ‘No, me neither,’ Ethan says, screwing up his nose at me. ‘It was so dry the year we harvested this crop that the deep roots of the vines took up some of the salt from the creek.’

  ‘That’s interesting,’ I say.

  ‘I thought it tasted salty!’ Trudy exclaims.

  But Ethan is still smiling at me.

  *

  ‘You could’ve got in there,’ I tease him later, when the other group have gone home and it’s just Josh, Tina, Nell and me left.

  ‘No thanks,’ he says gruffly.

  ‘Too desperate, was she?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  I purse my lips at him.

  Ruth and Tony have disappeared into the kitchen, and we’ve relocated to the living room. Nell is curled up on her side on a large, leather-clad armchair. She looks tired, and for a moment she reminds me of the little girl I knew in primary school.

  ‘Are you alright, Nell?’ I call over to her.

  ‘Mmm,’ comes her sleepy reply.

  ‘Did you have a good night?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She smiles at me. ‘George was nice.’

  ‘Nicer than Julian?’ Tina asks in her no-nonsense tone.

  ‘Oh, be quiet, you,’ Nell replies, yawning.

  ‘Did you get his number, just in case?’ Tina continues, unabashed.

  ‘No, I did not,’ Nell replies hotly, before the violence of a second yawn silences her.

  ‘Do you want me to call us a taxi?’ I ask.

  ‘Whenever,’ she replies.

  ‘Ours should be here soon,’ Tina says to Josh, patting him on his thigh. He nods. They’re sitting on one battered leather sofa and Ethan and I are on another.

  Ethan puts his arm around my shoulders and I automatically snuggle into his chest, draping my hand across his warm stomach. Somewhere at the back of my mind is the niggling thought that Ned would be horrified to see me being this comfortable with another man.

  ‘Have you guys seriously never dated?’ Josh’s question makes me start. I lift my head to see him observing us.

  I shake my head determinedly and sit up slightly. ‘No.’

  ‘Nope.’ Ethan’s reply is more flippant, his hold on me still relaxed.

  ‘They were like that at school,’ Tina says to Josh before addressing Ethan and me. ‘Did you really never even kiss?’ she pries.

  I glare at her. ‘No!’

  Ethan grins, completely at ease with the line of questioning.

  Ruth pops her head around the door while Tina is still giggling at my reaction. ‘Taxi’s here,’ she says before looking past Tina and Josh to Nell in the armchair. ‘Is Nell alright?’ she asks with concern.

  We all glance in her direction to see that she’s fast asleep and snoring lightly.

  ‘Aw,’ I say fondly.

  ‘You’re welcome to stay in one of the guest rooms if you want to,’ Ruth offers as we get to our feet.

  Much as I’d love to roll into a comfy bed, Nell needs to be at work in the morning, so I say thank you, but decline.

  We walk Tina and Josh to the back door.

  ‘See you, honey,’ my friend says, giving me a hug.

  ‘Bye, you.’

  ‘Oh! I completely forgot to say,’ she exclaims, pulling away. ‘My mum won four tickets at some random shopping centre raffle to see a comedian on Tuesday night at the Fringe. Can’t remember his name, but he’s playing at the Royalty Theatre and apparently it’s sold out. Do you guys want to come?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Ethan says with a nod.

  ‘I’d love to,’ I reply. Liz will no doubt be delighted to have the house – and Dad – to herself for the night. Things are still tense between us after our recent argument.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind dropping Dad’s car back in the morning?’ I double check with Ethan as we watch Tina and Josh’s taxi drive away.

  ‘Not at all. Like I said, Mum wants to go into the city tomorrow, anyway, so I’ll hitch a lift home with her.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’

  ‘No trouble at all.’

  ‘Night-night, darlings, I’m going to head to bed,’ Ruth says on our way back through the kitchen.

  ‘Me too.’ Tony heaves himself to his feet. He was nursing a glass of some spirit or other at the kitchen table.

  I glance at Ethan. ‘I should probably call a taxi.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he tells me.

  A couple of minutes later, we stand together in the doorway of the living room. ‘Should we wake her?’ Ethan asks in a whisper. Nell is still out cold.

  ‘No, let her sleep until the taxi arrives,’ I reply. It will be here in half an hour.

  We return to the same sofa, but sit further apart this time. I kick off my boots and curl up at one end, facing him. Ethan drapes his left arm along the top of the sofa, his hand so close he’s almost touching my cheek with the tips of his fingers.

  ‘I had such a good time tonight,’ I tell him with a smile, speaking quietly so we don’t disturb Nell.

&
nbsp; ‘You didn’t seem too keen on the wine tasting,’ he comments with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘I know what I like and what I don’t like, and I really liked all but one of them, but I’m not very good at descriptions. That’s more Ned’s thing.’

  ‘Did you take his name when you got married?’ he asks curiously.

  ‘No, I’m still a Church.’ I look down at my fingernails. ‘I don’t know why.’ Was it because I didn’t really like Matthews as a surname or because I loved Church? Was it because I felt like my name was a part of my identity and didn’t want to give everything over to him? I don’t say any of this, because the truth is, I still don’t know the answer. Perhaps I just wasn’t ready when we got married. ‘Did Sadie take yours?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah.’

  Of course she did…

  ‘What’s that look for?’ he asks with amusement.

  I clearly didn’t try hard enough to disguise my dislike for the woman.

  ‘Nothing,’ I reply.

  ‘Tell me,’ he urges.

  ‘I shouldn’t in case you get back toge—’

  ‘We’re not getting back together,’ he states definitively, cutting me off. ‘What were you going to say?’

  ‘Okay.’ I inhale sharply. ‘She never made me feel that comfortable.’

  ‘That’s because she was jealous of you,’ he says directly, cocking his head to one side.

  I pull a face. ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ethan looks at the ceiling, thinking. ‘She’s always been insecure,’ he says finally. ‘She was a nightmare at times, to be honest. But with you, she took it to a whole new level.’ He shakes his head. ‘She didn’t want me to come to your wedding.’

  I blanch. ‘But you still came.’

  ‘I didn’t want to let you down again.’

  I pause to try to soak up what he’s saying. ‘So she didn’t have a tummy bug?’

  ‘She wasn’t feeling well,’ he says. ‘But she could have come if she’d wanted to. No, it was all her old insecurities, rising to the surface.’

  ‘You said “again”. You didn’t want to let me down again?’

  ‘You know what I mean. All those times I cancelled?’ He hesitates, and then inches forward and brushes his knuckle against my cheek. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come to your seventeenth birthday party.’