‘Hello, um, is that Mr Baker?’
‘Yup, Donald, who’s asking?’
‘This is Emily Stra … Er, Emily Oliphant. I’m, uh, calling about the old white house on your land …’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, I was wondering if you’d consider renting it.’
‘That old dump?!’
‘It’s just that I stumbled across it the other day – I hope you don’t mind, but I got lost and found myself there.’
‘I’d rather you took it off my hands for good.’
‘Sorry? Is it for sale?’
‘Well, as much as I’d like to get rid of it, I have a stubborn, sentimental older brother. I’d be happy to tear the old eyesore down but oh no, he won’t have a bloody bar of it, will he? Hopefully it’ll fall down soon, anyway – save me a whole lot of bother.’
‘So it’s not liveable?’
‘The mice seem to like it. Look girly, if that’s all …?’
‘So you wouldn’t consider renting it to me?’
‘You’d be mad.’
‘And if I am – mad, that is?’ Emily let out a tight laugh. ‘Look, I really need somewhere to live.’ She almost gave in to the sob that caught in her throat.
A deep, resigned sigh came from the other end of the phone.
‘Well, you’d better take a look inside before you go getting all ahead of yourself. I’ve got to go past in the next hour so I’ll leave a key on top of the tank stand under a brick. Lock up and put it back when you’ve finished.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But don’t think I’m going to do any work on the place – it’s as you find it.’
‘Okay.’
‘Righteo then.’
There was another pause.
‘Um, Mr Baker?’
‘What now?’
‘Would you ask your brother about selling, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble?’
‘Sure, why not? Not that it’ll do any good; he’s the stubborn one.’
‘Thank you. I really appreciate it.’
‘Right, if that’s all …?’
‘Yes, thank you very much. I’ll be in touch soon. Goodbye.’
Emily hung up and sat doodling on the pad of paper in front of her, trying to decide how she felt. Surely it couldn’t be as bad as Mr Baker indicated. And wow, he’d sell if it was up to him. But what was she thinking? She didn’t have any money. And even if she did, the other brother – the stubborn one – wasn’t interested in selling.
She tore the page from the pad, screwed it up, tossed it into the nearby bin, and put everything back where she’d found it.
Walking back down to the kitchen, her legs felt like lead.
‘So how did it go?’ Barbara asked, looking up from the papers.
Emily shrugged. ‘He’s leaving the key out for me to have a look.’
‘That’s great! So why the long face?’
‘Apparently it’s only fit for mice to live in.’
‘Well, I think we can be the judge of that. Which one did you speak to – which brother?’
‘Donald. Not that it matters; if he’s right, I’ll be back to square one.’
‘Spoken like a true defeatist,’ Barbara scolded.
‘Sorry, but that’s how I’m feeling. So, is John offering me a million dollars?’ Emily asked, indicating the papers in front of Barbara.
‘Um, not exactly. And you were right: it is just something he’s put together. How does forty thousand sound, paid in cash?’
‘Rather generous – for John Stratten.’
‘That’s what I was thinking – too generous. I don’t mean to pry, but haven’t you had a few droughts like the rest of us?’
‘Of course. I’m pretty sure we’ve been making a loss, just like everyone else around here. Where would he get forty grand from?’ Emily said, as much to herself as to Barbara.
‘Bank loan?’
‘Maybe, but parents more likely. So where do I sign?’
‘I’m not sure you should.’
‘Why? Forty grand’s forty grand. I’d probably walk away with nothing to have him out of my life.’
‘Something just doesn’t feel right.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know – the timing, for a start. You’d better read through it for yourself. The land and major equipment must be tied up in a family trust or company like you said – there’s no mention of it. Shouldn’t you at least check?’
‘I guess so, but I’d rather not bring Thora and Gerald into it. I’ll have a quick look, but I am going to sign and get it over with. If he’s pulling a swiftie, let him, and hope what goes around really does come around.’
‘Karma won’t keep you fed and clothed, Emily.’
‘God, you sound like my mother.’
‘Well, someone has to look out for your interests; you’re clearly not.’
‘What, so you think I should get a lawyer involved and go up against one of the wealthiest families in the district? I’ll go through my savings in a second. And it could take years. Not to mention having my reputation trashed in the process.’
‘Now who’s sounding like Enid?’ Barbara said, becoming visibly exasperated. ‘And since when do you care what people think? You’ve lived here long enough to know that people are going to say what they’re going to say, regardless of the truth. Come on, that’s not a good enough reason not to stand up for yourself.’
‘I just don’t want to make my life harder than it’s already going to be.’
‘Good. Then help yourself and at least get some professional advice. You’re selling yourself way too short, Emily.’
‘It’s not like I actually helped on the farm.’
‘It’s not about what you did or didn’t do. It’s about right and wrong. It’s the law. From where I’m standing he’s about to do more wrong by you. And you’re going to just lie down and take it? Where’s your bloody self-respect?!’
‘Gee, thanks for the support.’
‘I am being supportive. I’m trying to stop you doing something you’ll regret.’
‘Forty grand will get me on my way, and that’s all I want. It was hard enough getting the courage to leave. I don’t think I could fight him and his family for years in court.’
‘No one is saying it has to come to that. I’m just asking you to think it through properly before signing your life away.’
‘Easy for you to say, with your perfect marriage …’ Emily stopped herself and put her hands to her flaming face. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t have. Emily, I’m trying to be a good friend and help you here.’
‘I know. And I appreciate it, I really do.’
‘Then bloody well listen to me!’
‘Please, Barbara. I don’t want to fight. Can we please just drop it?’
‘I don’t want to fight either. And I suppose it is your decision to make, even if I don’t agree,’ Barbara said with a long, resigned sigh.
‘Exactly. So, at the risk of disappointment, do you fancy coming with me to see this “dump” of a house?’
‘Sure, why not? After another fortifying cup of coffee,’ Barbara said, getting up, taking the remaining plates and cutlery with her. ‘Meanwhile, please at least read the offer. See what you make of it.’
As Barbara made the coffee, Emily flicked through the document, the words ‘if it sounds too good to be true …’ ringing in her head.
Forty thousand dollars seemed like a large cash payout. Large to her, anyway. But there was likely nothing generous about it at all.
She turned the pages and checked the figures against her memory. Everything seemed included, albeit at considerably lower value than she would have thought – even taking the drought into account.
But when did they sell several thousand sheep? She wasn’t sure exactly how many they ran – John shut her out when it came to farm-related business – but surely they had more than the two t
housand stated here. Emily sighed; she was clearly being shortchanged. The disappointing thing was that it came as no surprise.
Of course John Stratten would screw her – he was greedy, it’s what greedy people did. And if she pulled him up on it, he would no doubt offer a very plausible explanation and make her look like a fool – another thing he was very good at.
Emily signed the papers and, as she pushed them aside, wondered if she would live to regret her decision. But she didn’t see she had a choice if she was going to stay in the district – farmers were an endangered and protected species around here.
Chapter Twenty-two
Just as they emerged from the stand of trees, the sun came out from behind a thick bank of fluffy clouds, illuminating the white exterior of the house. It was beautiful. Emily’s heart sank.
‘Wow, it really is gorgeous,’ Barbara cooed.
‘Hmm.’
‘A bit of enthusiasm, if you please. You might have found somewhere to live, to get that new start on life you’ve been so desperately wanting.’
‘I’m sorry, but after the last place we saw, I don’t want to get my hopes up.’ Emily had told Barbara about her conversation with Donald Baker, but not how she really felt: that if she couldn’t own it she didn’t want to live there.
‘We know it’s not a dump – remember we looked through the windows and there wasn’t anything but bare floorboards. Anyway, it’s locked up. It might not have been lived in for a long time, but it’s been cared for. Honestly, a bit of positive attitude wouldn’t go astray, Em. Maybe if you did it up a bit, the other brother – the one you said was sentimental – might agree to part with it.’
Emily looked sharply at her friend.
‘Don’t think I can’t read your mind, Ms Emily Oliphant,’ Barbara said with a cheeky grin. She turned the car off, put the handbrake on and opened her door. ‘Come on. I can’t wait to see inside. Where’s the key?’
‘Tank stand, under a brick,’ Emily murmured distractedly.
Her head had suddenly filled with images of a cocktail party out on the wide front verandah. Guests spilled down onto the driveway. The large sprawling gum had fairy lights strung amongst its leaves and coloured lanterns swinging from its branches. People milled about, full of happiness and laughter, gentle music playing in the still night air.
Emily closed her eyes tight to erase the vision. It was too painful. She had no means of making such a dream come true, and couldn’t see how she ever would. Aching, she climbed out of the car. Being positive was one thing; losing her grip on reality was quite another.
She made her way heavily up the sweeping concrete verandah steps, and was approaching the front door when it opened.
‘Found it,’ Barbara said, beaming. ‘Welcome!’ She stood back to let Emily past.
Emily was two steps inside when she started to sneeze. ‘Bloody hell, it’s dusty,’ she said when the bout finally subsided.
‘You would be too if you hadn’t been vacuumed for goodness-knows-how-many years!’
As Emily blew her nose, she stared down the wide hallway ahead of her. From the outside the house didn’t look big enough to warrant such extravagance. Perhaps the rooms were small. Though she knew that was unlikely in a house of this age. Her heart sank further. She didn’t have to see any more; she loved the place already.
They moved down the hall, opening each of the doors leading off it in turn, and stepping inside the spacious rooms.
Each had an open fireplace with original timber surrounds and a tiled hearth, and large double-hung windows, the tops of which held lovely leadlight panels in subdued colours and curvaceous, floral art nouveau-style designs.
The timber floors were dull, but seemed to be in reasonable condition, which Emily discovered by polishing a small section with her foot while holding a tissue over her nose.
‘You know,’ Barbara said authoritatively, ‘only jarrah, or maybe red gum, would be in this condition after so long.’
Emily nodded and checked the ceiling. So far, each had had a different ornate moulded design – again art nouveau, but at times verging on art deco.
They opened a door two thirds of the way down the hall and stepped into a room twice the size of all the others.
‘Imagine the parties you could have here,’ Barbara said with wonder. ‘You’d easily get eight tables of ten in here for a sit-down dinner.’
Emily nodded; she was already mentally placing them, decorating them, adding cutlery …
‘Come on, I’m dying to see the kitchen – it’s bound to be huge if this is anything to go by,’ Barbara said.
When Emily didn’t make a move, Barbara grabbed her friend’s hand and tugged.
‘Come on, we can come back and daydream, but I want to see everything now!’
Emily allowed herself to be swept out through the door into the second part of the hall, and then to the right where they could see the kitchen behind a set of natural timber French doors with clear but slightly wavy glass. They opened the doors and found themselves standing in an enormous kitchen.
‘Lordy,’ Barbara said. ‘This puts even my kitchen to shame. And look at the legs on that table. Fancy them leaving it here.’
‘It’s so big they probably can’t fit it at their other place. And I thought John’s table was big.’
‘This place is like Doctor Who’s TARDIS,’ Barbara continued. ‘No way does it look this big from the outside.’
‘You know, we haven’t seen a bathroom or a toilet,’ Emily said.
‘Maybe they’re through this way,’ Barbara said, nodding at a second set of French doors at the other end of the kitchen that looked like they led outside. Emily followed her. I am not living somewhere without adequate bathroom facilities, she told herself, desperately wanting an excuse to hate the place.
‘Uh-huh,’ Barbara said in triumph, standing just outside on the side verandah. ‘Looks like laundry one side – see, old clothes line down there – and bathroom on the other,’ she said, turning this way and that.
Down a short flight of concrete steps was a long, two-stranded clothes line held up at each end by large, weathered timber posts. Barbara skipped down the steps and over to it.
‘You undo this swivel, peg the clothes on the lower side, then hoist it up and secure it with this plank,’ she said, demonstrating. ‘My grandmother had one just like it.’
But Emily was too busy taking in the scene before her. Beyond the high verandah an empty creekbed made its way past the house. It would be stunning flowing with water. And it must occasionally do, she surmised, given the lush scrub just beyond it. No doubt that explained the magnificent stand of trees. God, everything about the place was gorgeous. She just had to find some way to own it.
Emily sighed and opened the door to her right, which, as anticipated, revealed a large bathroom.
‘It’s a pity they had to use part of the verandah – especially with that view,’ Barbara said, appearing beside her.
‘I’m just relieved it’s not a long-drop out by the scrub,’ Emily said, trying to make out everything in the gloom. A sheet covered the window. ‘Oh, but there doesn’t seem to be a toilet in here,’
‘Don’t worry,’ Barbara said with a laugh. ‘It’s in the laundry.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Emily said, visibly relieved.
‘You know, apart from being old, dated and pretty bloody filthy, I think the old girl’s kept her age well,’ Barbara said.
‘I agree. She must have been pretty flash in her day. Were they wealthy, the Bakers?’
‘I know as much about them as you – I’m an out-of-towner, remember? You’ll have to ask David. Or, better yet, your dad. Come on, let’s take a look at the outbuildings.’
‘No, I don’t want to pry. And anyway, Mr Baker said only the house.’
‘All right, but at least let’s see what’s behind that door on the other corner. Maybe it’s a cellar.’
Emily reluctantly followed Barbara out around the laundr
y and past the kitchen window. The house was already perfect; the last thing she wanted was for it to be too good to be true. And if the Bakers were ever to consider selling, a cellar would add significantly to the asking price.
‘Bugger, it’s locked – and this key doesn’t open it. Wonder what they’re hiding in there.’
Emily laughed. ‘Dead bodies, Miss Marple? Come on, I need to sit down.’ Suddenly she felt exhausted, the sensory overload catching up with her.
They made their way back inside, down the hall, and outside onto the front verandah. They sat opposite each other, leaning against the two large barley-twist pillars at the top of the steps.
‘It’s just so damn perfect I want to cry,’ Emily said, thinking aloud.
‘Well then, we’ll just have to make it happen.’
‘How though?’
‘We could knock off the brother who doesn’t want to sell,’ Barbara said after a few moments of silent contemplation.
‘Gee, aren’t you a big help.’
‘Just making sure you haven’t lost your sense of humour.’
‘Oh, ha ha. Well, think again, it’s not a viable option.’
‘You could at least speak to him, find out why. At this point we’ve only got his brother’s word.’
‘Hmm, I think you’re right,’ Emily said, having at that second come to the same conclusion.
‘At the very least find out how much rent they want and when you can move in.’
‘Honestly, Barb, I’m not sure I want to live here if I can’t own it – it’d be too heartbreaking to have to leave it behind. Like the cottage all over again.’
‘Since when have you been afraid of a little heartbreak? Look how far you’ve come, Em. It’s only good things from here on,’ she said.
I bloody well hope so.
‘Anyway, at least if they let you move in they won’t be demolishing it.’
They were in the car, about to leave, when Emily’s mobile rang. She pushed the button to answer without checking the number.
‘Hello, Emily speaking.’
‘Emily, have you signed the papers yet?’ John’s voice boomed into her ear.
Emily felt like the blood in her veins had frozen solid. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment before starting up again in a series of frantic beats.
Saving Grace Page 13
