When my back started to ache and I felt as if I’d wallowed in memories for long enough I forced myself out of bed, yelping when my bare feet hit the frigid vinyl floor.
Slippered and gowned, I opened the kitchen blind and sunshine splashed onto me. I stood by the kitchen sink and soaked up the soothing rays.
It was after eight, later than I usually climbed out of bed. Surprisingly, I’d slept well but I felt like I did when I was recovering from a bad case of the flu: weak-kneed and fragile.
The day yawned in front of me. I drank tea, ate toast and tried not to overthink Doug’s revelations of the evening before.
Once again I contemplated ringing Grace, not to sound off but just to listen to her prattle on about life in the fast lane. I even found my phone and did the time calculation in my head: it’d be late in London but knowing Grace, she’d still be up.
But no, I wouldn’t, because she’d know that something was wrong as soon as I opened my mouth. And if I messaged her, she’d read between the lines just as easily.
Instead, I got dressed in an old pair of jeans and a jumper, made the bed and tidied up. I grabbed my gardening gloves and the few implements I had, and drove to the gallery to pull weeds and prepare the garden beds for the spring planting I’d planned. There would be as many colourful flowers as I could find the seedlings.
By late morning I’d pulled a pile of weeds, and my knees were stiff. I’d forgotten how long and cold the winters were in Miners Ridge. The summers were equally long and hot. There wasn’t much in-between.
The idea of cake and cappuccino, in the warmth of a cafe, had me examining my grubby clothes. I discarded the gloves and brushed off as much soil as I could, collected my purse from the car and walked the short distance to the main street.
I hadn’t gone far when someone called my name. Seconds later Carol fell into step beside me. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the hotel logo.
‘Aren’t you cold?’ I said, glancing at her bare forearms.
‘Just finished cleaning the pub, and that works up a sweat. You look like a woman on a mission.’
‘I’m going to the cafe. I need coffee, and cake. Join me, if you’ve the time.’
‘I might just do that. It’s where I was heading for a takeaway. I see the gallery garden’s starting to take shape.’
‘Yeah, it is. It’s amazing what’s emerging out of the weeds.’
‘It’s been months since anyone’s had a go at it. I know there hasn’t been much rain, but that doesn’t seem to bother the weeds. Dorothy Bignell used to look after it until she broke her hip. Word is she’ll probably never get back to it.’
The bell on the door tinkled as we entered the cafe, and we were enveloped in warm, coffee-scented air. All of the tables were in use so we perched on stools at the rustic benchtop running the length of the front window.
‘My shout,’ I said. Long black for Carol and a cappuccino for me. Both in mugs. Carol opted for a lamington, large enough to feed a family, and I went for a piece of pecan pie with whipped cream on the side. ‘The nuts are a bit healthy,’ I said.
‘Who cares,’ Carol said, with a laugh.
When we were well into the food and drink, I said, ‘Aaron Halliday tells me your daughter is coming back here to live.’
She didn’t answer right away, making me think it was a topic not up for discussion. I was about to apologise for prying when Carol piped up.
‘Yeah, she said the marriage has been on its last gasp for a while. Can’t say that I ever really knew Shane that well, but he seemed all right. But like I’ve said before, we Claremont women don’t seem to be able hang on to our men.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be! Crazy to stick with something if it’s not working. They gave it long enough.’
‘What’re her plans? Is she here to stay or just until she regroups? I imagine it wouldn’t be easy finding work in a place the size of Miners Ridge.’
‘Louise is an enrolled nurse and she’s been offered work at the hospital. Casual shifts, but that’s all she wants to start with until she sees if this is where she wants to settle.’
We chattered on about our children and grandchildren, and then over our second coffee I found myself telling Carol about my trip to the farm and Doug’s surprise visit to my place.
‘Blimey,’ she said, raising her well-plucked eyebrows. ‘Bet he got the shock of his life to find you standing in his kitchen after eight years.’
I didn’t tell her that Doug and Luke had argued on the day Luke was killed. Or that Doug blamed himself. Or that he believed my leaving him was a suitable penance for what he saw as his own culpability in Luke’s death.
‘He asked me if I’d missed the place,’ I said.
‘The man’s a moron,’ she said, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or be outraged by her blunt honesty. I chose laughter.
It had been therapeutic to share. Instinctively, I knew that I could trust Carol. She struck me as a woman who understood what should and shouldn’t be shared.
She tilted her cup to double-check it was empty, disappointed when it was. ‘Now’s the time I really miss having a fag,’ she said.
‘Have you given up long?’
‘No, not long at all, and only because my granddaughter asked me if I would. She said I smelled awful. And that it was bad for my health.’ Carol laughed. ‘That girl is a rocket.’
‘She’s a pretty thing,’ I said, and Carol scratched her head. Then her expression cleared. ‘Of course, you would have seen the photos when you stayed the night at my place. Cost a bloody fortune … Professional photographer, or some such crap.’
‘Well, they were worth it. They are lovely shots and you should be proud.’
Carol mumbled something but I could see she was chuffed by the compliment. Stiffly, I eased myself off the stool. My backside was numb.
‘Is the gallery committee meeting you want me to attend still on tomorrow night?’
‘Yep, seven-thirty at the gallery, and come in the back door. They’re thrilled you’ve agreed to come on the committee and to think about nominating as treasurer after the AGM.’
‘Glad to help. But are you sure it’s all legit?’
Carol puffed out her cheeks. ‘I asked the very same question and was assured our constitution allows us to fill committee vacancies as required. And we have several vacancies. What with people leaving and others being away for whatever reason, we sometimes don’t have a quorum.’
‘Do they realise I might not be around for long?’
‘They do, and they’ll be happy with whatever you can offer,’ she said. ‘We have an accountant who audits and advises us if necessary. But we have to pay for her services, so we try to do as much as we can ourselves.’
‘Fair enough. Accountants sure know how to charge. Thanks for your company, Carol. I’d better get back to the weeds for another hour or two.’
‘Ditto, and I’d better get home and clean my own house. You clean up every other bugger’s mess, the last thing you feel like is cleaning up your own. But Louise and Emma arrive on the weekend and I have a bit to do before then.’
We parted and went our separate ways. I didn’t let on that I’d met Emma weeks ago in the bakery. Well, we hadn’t actually met, and at the time I’d had no idea that our paths might cross again sometime in the future.
34
Grace
She’d been in London the best part of five months and work continued to dominate her life. So far there’d been no weekends in Paris; the furthest she’d travelled was Bath. But, Grace told herself, if she kept busy, there was no time to reflect on how far from home she felt.
The autumn days were shortening and the nights taking on a chilly edge, a foretaste of the cold months to come. Instead of asking her mum to send over more of her clothes, Grace went shopping for a few winter essentials. Her Adelaide winter clothes would hardly be sufficient for a bleak London winter.
Grant sounded strained when t
hey talked these days. Their conversations were often short and there was no mention of when or if he’d be back. His son had woken up and been moved out of ICU. There was talk of relocating him to a rehab unit and Grant’s optimism that his son would recover fully from the accident faded by the day.
Grace forced herself not to dwell on the last few conversations she’d had with her mother. She’d sounded preoccupied and the calls had dwindled to short enquiries about each other’s health.
What was happening in Miners Ridge in her absence worried Grace, but she was too far away to do anything about it. Tim hadn’t returned any of her calls or emails and neither had her sister. When she’d probed Aaron for answers he’d been evasive, saying, ‘Grace, it has to come from them. Just leave them to it. They’ll sort things out, one way or another.’
But Grace wasn’t reassured, and she began considering the feasibility of taking two weeks’ leave and flying home. She could afford it and had the accumulated leave. There wouldn’t be a problem accessing it after she’d worked for six months. All she had to do was manage another month and then she’d request the time off.
To Grace’s dismay, when she told Aaron she was thinking about coming home for a couple of weeks, he wasn’t as thrilled as she’d anticipated.
‘How do you know you’ll get the time off?’ he said when they next FaceTimed.
‘Because I’ve accumulated the leave and we’re allowed to take holidays every six months. In fact the bank encourages it.’
‘But you were home for your Nanna’s funeral in May. It’s only September.’
‘That was compassionate leave.’ Grace scowled. ‘And here’s me thinking you’d be pleased.’
‘Oh, I am,’ he said, but his expression was at odds with the words. ‘But remember, gardening and landscaping might be slow now, but it’ll start picking up by October. The weather warms up and everyone wants stuff done yesterday, and I might not get to take much time off while you’re here.’
‘That’ll be a shame,’ Grace said, miffed. ‘But I’ll be able to spend more time with Mum, and the rest of my family.’
Aaron’s blue eyes were no less disconcerting staring out at her from the screen of her laptop. Neither spoke for several seconds, and then his mouth flattened and he said, ‘You do what you’ve got to do, Grace. Have you told Sarah what your plans are?’
‘Not yet. It was only an idea. I worry about Mum. Lately, we hardly talk at all. And no one else is answering my calls or emails. Maybe I should ring Dad for an update.’
Aaron laughed, and she felt the tug of his levity. ‘Sorry to sound like a petulant teenager, but sometimes it feels as if everyone’s too busy to be bothered with little old me.’
‘I’m bothered with little old you. In fact, sometimes I only have to think about you and I get all bothered.’
‘Stop it,’ Grace said, with mock sternness. ‘You know, I sometimes get the feeling you’re not keeping me in the loop like you promised you would.’
His expression sobered. Grace propped her chin on her hand, her eyes never leaving the screen and his handsome face.
‘I rarely see Sarah,’ he said. ‘She’s in and out of here each Thursday to do my bookwork but I’m always out on the job. And Tim hasn’t been at the pub as often as he was there for a while.’
Grace pulled at her bottom lip. ‘Mum seems to be making quite a life for herself there in Miners Ridge. I gather most days she’s providing after-school care for Liam and Amelia. And then there’s all the work she’s doing at the gallery. Maybe I should re-let the unit in Adelaide. It’s sitting there empty, and if Mum’s settling back into country life …’
Much to Grace’s frustration, Aaron ignored the implicit question and didn’t volunteer any opinion. She wanted to stamp her foot in exasperation. Aaron’s eye sparked with amusement, and that irritated her even more.
‘I need an early night, and you need to go to work,’ she said brusquely, and the gleam in Aaron’s gaze morphed into a teasing smile.
‘Don’t be mad at me, Gracie. Who knows what’s around the corner? And if you do decide to come home for a holiday, I’ll be waiting for you at the airport with open arms.’
Grace wanted to be reassured by what Aaron had said but after they’d disconnected she couldn’t help but dwell on how it was getting to know someone from thousands of kilometres away. Video chats added an extra dimension, but there were times when she thought about Aaron and their developing relationship and it all seemed too bizarre.
Grace shut down her laptop. She couldn’t deny to herself that the desire to go home for a holiday was as much about seeing Aaron than it was catching up with her mother. Pragmatic Grace needed to know there was substance to what was developing between her and Aaron, that it wasn’t just homesickness that she was feeling coupled with an overactive imagination.
The following week, after a day of mind-numbing meetings, Grace was in the lunch room making herself tea when Lucy Trudeau strolled in. Since Grant’s departure, Grace had surprised herself by becoming friends with Lucy. It had started with them sharing whatever news they’d heard from Grant about how his son was getting on.
Grant had been right about Lucy, she wasn’t as coolly aloof and ambitious as she’d first come across. Although she was still as gorgeous as ever and Grace felt positively dowdy beside her.
‘If that Simon Weeks spends one more meeting looking at my boobs instead of my face when I’m talking to him, I am going to make a complaint,’ Lucy said.
‘He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it,’ Grace said.
‘Oh yes he does! I glare at him and he has the temerity to wink at me.’
‘He’s a boor. I suppose whenever we run into him we could stare pointedly at his crotch, and giggle hysterically.’
Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Given the size of his ego he’d probably think we were coming on to him.’
‘Yeah, some blokes think no woman could refuse them. When I first started here he asked me out for a drink.’
‘Really? Did you go?’
‘No way. Definitely not my type.’
‘Go you,’ Lucy said, adding a dollop of milk to her tea and sitting down at the table to drink it. ‘He’s shaping up to be quite a good analyst, it’s a pity he’s such a creep. Maybe they’ll transfer him to the Hong Kong office.’
‘Mmm, we could be so lucky,’ Grace said, exploring the contents of the small fridge on the off-chance there was something to eat that had her name on it. ‘Ah ha!’ She held aloft a tub of strawberry yoghurt with her name scribbled across the top. ‘Best before … yesterday,’ she said, reading the expiry date.
Lucy watched her as she ripped off the lid and tucked in.
‘So, I’m hungry,’ Grace said. ‘By the time the sandwich platter made it around the table to me, there wasn’t much left.’
‘But out-of-date dairy,’ Lucy said, screwing up her nose.
Grace finished the yoghurt and threw the empty tub into the bin. ‘Does that happen? Transfers to the Hong Kong office?’
‘Not unheard of,’ Lucy said. ‘Do you think Richard Simms will be back?’
‘The word is he’s going to retire. His wife is much better, although I don’t think her long-term prognosis is good. He wants to spend as much time with her as he possibly can. You can’t really blame him for that.’
‘No, you can’t. If he does retire, you should apply for his position.’ Grace did a double-take. ‘You should. You’re senior enough, and very good at what you do. Everyone likes working with you, the men respect you, and you seem quite career-orientated.’
‘What, because I’m single and don’t have children or any other ties?’
‘I suppose that’s part of it. You’re here, aren’t you? A less career-minded woman wouldn’t have sought an overseas posting in the first place.’
‘I suppose not, but what about you? I would have thought it’d be right up your alley.’
‘Maybe,’ Lucy said slowly, and thoughtfully. ‘But I
think I need a few more years of experience first.’
‘I’d support you if you wanted to apply.’
‘Thanks Grace, but I’d need more of a proven track record. And, believe or not, I want to get married and have children, and I wouldn’t want to make some of the choices I’d need to if I wanted to balance a family with a high-powered job.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t look so surprised.’
‘So, Grant Hughes?’
Lucy laughed. ‘Grant helped me work out what my priorities were. He’s a decent man, and very attractive. We had fun but it was never going anywhere. We both knew that. Do you think he’ll be back?’
‘I don’t think so, his priorities are with his son.’
‘If he did come back, he’d easily get Richard’s position. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s not what the big bosses were hoping for.’
Tipping out the dregs of tea, Grace washed the cup and put it away, drying her hands. ‘It’s all speculation,’ she said. ‘Richard might decide he can’t afford to retire yet and come back to work.’
‘Perhaps,’ Lucy said, washing up her cup. ‘Do you want to go out for a drink after work?’
‘Excellent idea! We can speculate further over a glass of wine.’
Grace went back to her office and lost herself in work for the next three hours. It was her stomach rumbling that had her looking up from the financial statements to check the time.
These days, Grace was eating healthier food at regular mealtimes—or as close to as she could—as well as getting more sleep and limiting her alcohol intake to one glass a day. It was paying off. The shadows under her eyes had all but disappeared, and she’d gained two kilos. The gloss and body had returned to her hair and her usual energy had been restored. There were times now when she could honestly say she was enjoying life in London.
That didn’t mean there weren’t other times when she was still overwhelmed by homesickness. Interestingly, it was never for her townhouse or the Adelaide nightlife; it was for the wide-open spaces and the blue skies of her childhood home.
35
When Grace Went Away Page 22
