by Cate Kendall
Richard raised a finger to hold off on the glass of bubbles Genevieve was offering.
‘Yeah, Angus is good, bloody busy though, never gets a chance to see the kids. Had a complaining email from Caro today ... Yes, you’re right, she does her best ... She’s still a pain in the arse though ... This weekend? Can’t, darling, Genevieve and I are off to Port Douglas for a few days. There’s a new golf course at Peppers Balé I need to try ... Yes, sorry about that, but never mind – Christmas is around the corner and I hope to grab a couple of weeks down there then ... Must go, you’re amazing and brilliant, hang in there, can’t wait to see you ... love you too. Bye, honey.’
‘Hello, Gen,’ Richard finally greeted his guest with a proper kiss. ‘How are you?’
‘Hello, darling; fine thanks.’ Gen tossed her bouncy blonde highlights. ‘How’s Jessica?’
‘Not great, poor love. She didn’t say anything but I can tell by her voice. I really need to get down there and see her. It’s a big ask, running the cafe and managing the property. She does a great job. At least she has Nick doing the bulk of the work on the estate now.’
‘You must be proud of her; she’s a lovely woman,’ Genevieve said and perched on the edge of the couch.
‘I am, I really am, I just wish she’d find a fella – someone to take care of her.’
‘Well, she’ll find someone when the time’s right.’
‘I know. It was the same after Eva died; it took me ages to get back out there again. I guess I just need to give her time to work things out.’
Genevieve nodded. ‘She has to do it in her own time. Nick’s obviously a great friend and that’s what she needs right now.’
She stood and placed her glass on the side table. ‘Just popping in to powder my nose before we head out to dinner.’
‘And such a pretty nose it is too,’ he said.
He looked after her in wonder. He was a lucky, lucky man. He had met Genevieve six months earlier when Beef Bargains had been presented with a new television advertising campaign. He hadn’t taken in any of the information about demographic trends, media spread or research results because he’d been transfixed by the feisty fifty-year-old creative director’s enthusiasm, broad smile and swinging hips.
Richard had pursued her under the guise of following up some important figures. As a board member it really wasn’t his role, which was something they both knew, but conveniently forgot as they giggled over chardonnay at Nobu the following week.
He’d had dates and brief relationships since Eva passed away twenty years before, but there had been nothing so completely overwhelming as his current love affair with Genevieve. They were on the same wavelength; they had the same hobbies– although her skiing skills were a bit on the adventurous side for him. He loved every minute of her company and, at sixty-six, he was starting to feel that he had to make every minute count. So he was about to ask her to move in with him. Maybe even to marry him. Who knew what the future held? He just wanted to be sure Genevieve was in it. She could be a schemer, though, but he loved being kept on his toes. She always had a plan going; just last week she’d tried to manipulate him into investing in a new apartment tower a friend of hers was financing, and before that she’d spent weeks angling to get a look at his share portfolio. He grinned as he pulled on his navy blue reefer jacket, pocketing keys, mobile and wallet, and cheerfully brushed away her attempts to manage his money while finding her determined efforts quite amusing. He winked at her as she placed the glasses in the dish-drawer and watched fondly as she quickly reorganised his wine glass cupboard to better suit her own sense of style.
He was sure Gen would love to encourage Jessica to move out so she could redecorate the homestead, perhaps turn Jessica’s crazy garden into something more structured. He grinned at the fun of playing financial games with his partner. She was far more the challenging adversary than the gentle lover and he relished every minute. Others might find it mercenary or unhealthy to be in a relationship where his partner was keen to know all his business affairs and net worth, but it kept Richard’s blood pumping: he loved second-guessing her and sidestepping around her attempts to manipulate him. And he had to admit, he was completely dazzled by her sultry looks.
He was looking forward to the evening he had planned for them. He was taking his beautiful Genevieve to the Japanese restaurant across the road, then off to see a show at Her Majesty’s Theatre, a short stroll away, then onto the Melbourne Supper Club for after-show drinks.
They grabbed their jackets and headed out. As he was closing the door behind them he glanced up at the portrait of Jessica hanging on the wall of the foyer. A shadow of concern passed over him.
6
The large sheet threatened to curl back onto itself but a carefully placed paperweight at each corner kept it flat.
The plans were good. In fact, better than good. They were brilliant. Sure, there was the irritating administration of town planning and infrastructure, but it could be bypassed by greasing the greedy shire palms with several thou.
The ‘country-style’ houses were French provincial in design. Perfect. Box on a block. No shape was cheaper to build.
The two-acre blocks were troublesome: it meant only room for forty homes. If the surveyor could be convinced to be a little creative with the boundaries, at least another two could be squeezed in. Land like this didn’t become available that often and with the council’s new push for medium-density housing in the area, it was just a money-maker waiting to happen.
After all, why waste that view on a few hundred cows?
7
The mid-morning brunch traffic was queued out the door. The chef had been slinging bacon and eggs in various formats since the first customers had arrived ready for breakfast at eight a.m.
Tourist season was fully underway. Although the summer holidays hadn’t actually started, the warmer weather was beating down, the townies were flooding in for the weekend and Jessica had five front-of-house staff on as well as two cooks and two apprentices in the kitchen.
‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay for an hour or so?’ Jessica asked her manager, Linda.
‘Yes, of course we’ll be fine. You go to your Pony Club customers,’ the older woman assured her.
‘Just keep an eye on Trixie, she’s still finding her feet,’ Jess warned as she picked up baskets overflowing with home-baked treats.
‘What a diplomatic way of putting it,’ Linda replied with a gleam in her eye. ‘Table for six, sir?’ She turned to a customer. ‘Of course. Would you mind waiting five minutes while we set one up for you?’
Jessica drove into the car park at the Pony Club. A stab of pain in her stomach reminded her how much Liam and Callum had loved it there. Callum had been too small to ride, but he’d been her little helper as she sold her muffins and friands.
Liam loved the dressage, and he was such a natural. She really hoped he’d continued with his riding. She thought of his father. Somehow she doubted it.
It had broken her spirit entirely to finally decide to sell Tango. She’d considered keeping him in the top paddock, but seeing him every day was too painful. Liam had only been four when he’d had his first ride. It had been at Rainbow and Songbird’s house, at one of the kids’ parties. Although Liam had vehemently declined the offer of a pony ride, Jessica knew him well enough to realise that was just nerves. She knew how he shied away from anything new and different. She also knew all about his inner bravado, his adventurous side (not to mention his love of old western movies) and knew that if he could just find the courage he’d have a great time. It had taken all afternoon to convince him to try. He’d spent the day walking up and down beside the pony, chatting to Songbird in his barely coherent little-boy prattle.
Tears of pride had welled in Jess’s eyes as she noticed him take the reins and walk the pony a short way himself. Eventually, without any encouragement from her at all, he’d asked if he could have a turn. She couldn’t have been more proud of her little guy at
that moment. And the grin across his face for the entire ten minutes of the ride lit up her heart. He was hooked. It wasn’t long before they found the steady and calm Tango for him, and he began to have riding lessons each week, before moving on to join Pony Club after a few months. Jessica didn’t mind the early starts, the competitions and the pre-dawn drives every weekend. It was worth it because Liam had discovered a passion.
She took a deep breath and sidled past the floats and four-wheel drives to the clubhouse. The city mums were all decked out in gleaming leather riding boots and spotless pastel Ralph Lauren polo shirts.
Jess always enjoyed it when the city tourists flocked into town for the summer: not only was it great for business, it also broadened her social life as well. Of course some of the Pony Club mums were complete princesses who liked to parade around in jodhpurs and never touch any horseflesh, but they were always good fun. If she moved to the city she’d get to see more of them, she mused.
Jimmy had called again last night to tell her that Mimsy wanted to meet with her, so they’d set a date for early the following month. She still hadn’t spoken to anyone but Tori about the job in any detail, but she was pretty sure she was going to accept it.
‘Jess, daaaahling!’ boomed Cat. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes. Look at you, laden with goodies. Here, let me help you.’
‘Hi, Cat, hi, Pip, hello, Fi, morning, Pet, Pen, Flick, Sav, Cyn, Vi.’
The equestrian mums brayed a chorus of hellos and huddled around to sift through Jess’s offerings, thrusting money at her.
‘Jess, darling,’ said Fi, grasping a clutch of mud muffins for her gang of children. ‘I haven’t seen you since ... well, you know. We’ve been travelling quite a bit this year and this is the first time we’ve been down in simply ages ... I just wanted to offer my sympathies,’ she babbled in her high-speed staccato manner. She slammed her Fendi shades down to hide her embarrassment. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Hanging in there,’ Jess replied. ‘I’m fine, really.’
‘We miss little Liam. Such a seat ... I’ve never seen such elegance in a little boy. My Missy and Gracie just adored him.’ Aware she was pouring salt on a wound, Fi abruptly changed subjects.
‘Jessica, look at you: you look beautiful,’ said Tori, who had just walked up from the stables with one of her riding boots green with fresh manure. ‘I love your Chanel earrings, darling. Are they new?’
‘Hello, sweetie, yes, they were a birthday gift from my gorgeous dad,’ Jessica said and smiled down at the muck dripping from her friend’s footwear. ‘That’s a nice scent, new from Paris is it?’
‘Yes, Calvin Klein’s latest, Eau de Equine. You like?’ she said with a laugh, and she raised the offending boot to offer Jessica a smell.
‘Look, I’ll pass thanks, pet. Muffin? I think they’ve left a few.’
‘Oooh, yes please. Do you have time for a Nescafé? I must tell you about the gorgeous bits and pieces I snapped up in Red Hill during the week.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ Jessica replied. ‘Linda’s got the shop under control.’
They went into the club’s kitchen and Tori busied herself with the kettle.
‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you properly when you were down mid-week,’ Jessica said.
‘That’s okay. Here you go. I’m afraid it’s not up to the General Store standards.’
‘I’ll cope; it’s caffeine, isn’t it?’ Jessica replied. When Jess had fallen in love with Graham and gained an instant family, she had relied on Tori for advice and support. Tori had been more than a great part-time neighbour: she’d become a true friend. Their two families had spent weekends with the kids rough-and-tumbling in and out of the adjoining properties, getting loads of exercise as they ran the one hundred and fifty metres between each kitchen door, enjoying access to two biscuit tins and two sets of sympathetic ears. Jess’s boys used to count the days till the weekend when the family next door would arrive.
‘Oh, look who’s here, it’s your sister-in-law.’ Tori brought Jess back from her daydream with a nudge as Caro passed by the window.
‘That’s right, she’s joined the Pony Club, hasn’t she? Well, Charlotte has, anyway.’
‘She’s taken over completely, you know how bossy she is,’ Tori grumbled as she unwrapped her raspberry muffin.
‘Oh, she’s all right, that’s her coping mechanism. She’s nervous unless she feels well entrenched in a social group.’
‘Ladies.’ Caro smiled tightly as she entered the room and gave each woman a brief peck on their left cheek. ‘Tori, I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘I wanted to discuss the urn. Who do I see to ensure the urn is on and boiling well ahead of the one p.m. break?’
‘Well, we take turns setting up for lunch. The roster’s on the noticeboard,’ Tori said, pointing it out.
‘Yes, but it’s not a very efficient roster, is it?’ Caro clucked. ‘It doesn’t spell out precisely what tasks each rostered-on member is expected to perform. I think I’ll update it and pin it up for next week so there is absolutely no room for error.’ She unpinned the laminated card from the board.
‘And,’ she said, clearing coffee cups and dirty sugar spoons from the sink, ‘I’ve decided to have a little social gathering for all the Pony Club parents here at the club rooms in a few weeks’ time. I’ve noticed there are a number of new members who float around and don’t know anybody and it’s time we got together.’ She flicked a distasteful-looking Chux into the rubbish bin and rummaged under the sink for a clean one.
‘What a lovely idea.’ Jessica smiled at her sister-in-law in encouragement, which prevented Tori from butting in.
‘Well, ciao, I’m off to run it past the other members,’ Caro said, heading out to the tack room.
‘Bloody hell, that Caro! Don’t you think she’s taking it a bit far?’ Tori said. ‘She’s only a new member herself.’
‘That’s probably why she’s doing it,’ Jessica mused, as she watched Caro approach two women slinging tack a few metres away. ‘Well, I have to head back to the store, but I’d love to catch up later if you’re free?’ Jessica asked and placed her cup in the sink.
‘Yes, sure,’ Tori said, ‘I’d love to have a chat. There’s some stuff I need to talk about too.’
‘Really?’ Jessica asked as she picked up her basket. ‘Is everything okay?’
Tori’s face tightened and her eyes filled. ‘Um, well, not really, darling, but do you mind if we talk about it tonight? I have to get back to the kids just now.’
Jess was immediately alarmed. ‘Sure, sweetheart,’ she said, putting an arm around her friend. ‘I’ll be home after seven. Come over when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks, love, I’ll see you then,’ Tori said, pulling her sunglasses over her face and heading back out to the Pony Club paddock. Jess watched her leave, filled with concern for her friend and anxious to find out what was making her so miserable.
8
Nick stuck his head in through the open rickety front door; its glossy green paint was chipped and scratched. Each mark represented a moment in the diverse inhabitants’ lives; the time the kids had scratched their names into the door, the indignant hoof scrapes from a hungry goat sniffing out a tofu feast; and the thousand bangs and scuffs of everyday family life that were preserved in the veneer.
‘Hello!’ Nick called down the hall, surprised to find Rainbow and Songbird’s house so quiet. It was strangely peaceful, considering that Songbird had been quite specific that she and Rainbow had wanted to show him something amazing they were working on.
Eugene’s haughty face peered around the living-room door as if to indicate his displeasure at being interrupted.
‘Where’s the gang, old boy?’ Nick enquired. Eugene simply rolled back his lips and flashed his yellowed teeth.
Happy squeals and whoops from the backyard caught Nick’s attention, so he bid the alpaca a polite farewell and headed round the back.
Rainbow and Songbird’s dilapidated house
sat on an acre-and-a-half of scrubby land at the edge of Stumpy Gully. The building was perched almost on the front boundary, which gave the family plenty of room for a backyard-cum-paddock at the rear. Rainbow’s much-loved vegie garden filled the front yard, while the alpacas – Eugene, Digger and Ralphie – had free reign over the backyard – though they were much more partial to Rainbow and Songbird’s futon.
Nick could see the two women at the back fence, squealing and hugging each other. Rainbow was jumping from foot to foot with excitement. The children were on the other side of the property on mountain bikes, flying off the jumps that made up their makeshift bike track.
He meandered down the paddock, familiar with the rough terrain that he’d helped the girls to fence last winter. The soil was poor, a weak grey colour, and hard as concrete after a decade-long drought. The clumps of dry grass were pale and lifeless. He had to be careful he didn’t trip negotiating the uneven rocks.
‘What’s the hooting and hollering all about, ladies?’ he called. ‘You discovered oil or something?’
‘Yes!’ Rainbow bellowed back. ‘But black oil!’
Songbird shook her head and muttered something to her.
‘Oh, I mean black gold!’ Rainbow giggled.
As he reached them Nick saw the girls were standing next to an area of soil the size and shape of a backyard swimming pool. The soil was mixed with straw and to Nick’s surprise appeared to be steaming. ‘What’s this?’ he asked. ‘A new compost heap?’
‘Not quite, mate,’ Songbird said. ‘Rainbow and I are on to something huge here; it’s a bit bigger than rotting vegies, that’s for sure.’
Rainbow hugged her in delight as she went on.
‘But we can’t do it on our own. We need help, and you’re our man,’ she gave Nick an ironic wink.
‘Ooh, I do feel honoured,’ Nick teased. ‘But what is it exactly?’
