Tansy seemed a fraction buoyed by Maria’s having spoken at last. ‘A shock that I found you? Or that I’m here?’
‘Both.’
Tansy nodded.
Maria joined Tansy at the table and handed her a plate but didn’t speak. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ she said, as a way of buying more time to allow her feelings to mellow, if nothing else.
‘Gosh, where to start,’ Tansy mused, slicing thick pieces of a moist-looking yellow cake with outrageously green and red jellied fruits inside. ‘I’m a children’s bedroom designer and I live in a unit just back from Hastings Street in Noosa, on a hill near the national park?’ Her upward inflection signalled a query.
‘It’s lovely there,’ Maria affirmed. ‘I’ve been there a couple of times. The beach is so white.’
Tansy’s mouth opened. ‘Only a couple of times? But you live so close.’
Maria smiled a little. ‘I don’t leave here much; I have a lot of work to do running this place and trying to raise enough money for the orphanage to meet their daily needs, and hopefully to build an emergency fund as a safety net. But every day since the orphanage opened has been an emergency, so we’re constantly running on empty.’
Tansy nodded. ‘I only got to have a quick look at the website the other day, but I read a story about a mother who had to give up her daughters because she couldn’t afford them and the only other alternative was to sell them into sex slavery. I’d love to help in any way I can.’
Maria got up to stop the kettle from whistling and poured the water into the teapot. ‘Well, I never say no to an offer of help,’ she said.
‘Excellent. So you can’t get rid of me,’ Tansy said, picking off a piece of cake and nibbling at it.
‘We’ll see,’ Maria said, feeling much better now that tea was in progress. ‘But keep going. You were telling me about you.’
‘Oh, okay. So I’m married to Dougal. He’s forty-two and I’m twenty-nine—thirty in three weeks’ time, which you know of course because you got my party invite, didn’t you?’ Maria nodded. ‘Oh good. So, anyway, there’s a bit of an age difference, and Dougal has a son from a previous relationship, Leo; he’s twenty-two and living with us and going to uni. Dougal didn’t want any more children so we don’t have any ourselves.’
She paused and ate a chunk of cake. Maria poured the tea.
‘Sometimes I wonder what life would be like, if things were different,’ Tansy said.
‘If you had a child?’
‘Yes.’ More cake. ‘Oh, listen to me. We’ve only just met and I never say that to anyone. I’m sorry. God. The last thing you want is to hear me rave on.’ Tansy’s dark eyes widened. ‘And now I’ve said “God”. Sorry. That’s probably offensive to you, being a nun—or an ex-nun, but probably still liking God—and I’m actually a Catholic and go to church, once a month, granted, but I go and I enjoy it. Do you still go?’
Maria couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It’s all okay, Tansy.’
Tansy laughed too and waved her fingers at her face as if to cool down her cheeks, which had flushed red. ‘Sorry.’ Then, to Maria’s great surprise, Tansy placed a hunk of cake on her fork and dunked it into her tea, let it soak, then slurped it into her mouth. Gosh. After first wanting to chide her, Maria grew warm and happy, and wished to hand her more cake to do it again.
‘You don’t seem anything like your mother,’ she said, surprised herself at the feelings Tansy’s presence roused in her.
‘I’m going to take that as a compliment.’
‘Oh, it is. Not that I’m saying anything about Enid, just . . .’ Now it was Maria’s turn to blush.
‘This is awkward, isn’t it?’ Tansy said. ‘Us, sitting here, skirting around the elephant in the room.’
‘Enid?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And Florrie, for that matter. You know, now you mention it, I think I’m a lot more like Florrie than Mum. She’s married to someone much older too. Alastair’s twenty years her senior. Do you think I could have my aunt’s genetics rather than my mum’s?’
‘I can see Florrie in you, actually. You remind me of her when she was young. You have the same long limbs. We all come from the same pot of genetics, I guess,’ Maria said.
‘I suppose so.’
They were quiet for a moment, drinking tea and contemplating the small room, each other and the conversation.
‘Look, Maria—can I call you Maria?’
‘What else would you call me?’
‘Sister Maria?’
‘I’m not a sister anymore. I stopped being one a long time ago.’
‘Yes, you did. And I guess that’s what I want to know. Why you’ve kept away all this time. Why we’ve never met. Why you and Mum have issues. I know we’ve only just met and I don’t expect to get those kinds of answers today. But I do want to get to know you. Whatever you and Mum and Florrie are to each other, you’re my aunt, Maria. I want to have a connection with you. I want you in my life.’
Maria could feel her nostrils flare, breathing in to steady the torrent of emotions that this unexpected visitor had evoked. And she’d turned up now. Right when Maria had so many other difficulties to deal with thanks to ghosts of the past that were moaning at the back door.
God did have a tremendous sense of humour, laying this on her all at once.
But then, God was also wise and generous and knew more than she could ever hope to know. The decision she’d made in the past had been made contrary to God’s will. If it was God’s will that Tansy was here now, then, well, maybe she owed Him one.
Actually, she owed God about a million.
Tansy was still waiting for her to speak.
‘I think that it would be nice to form a connection with you too,’ Maria said slowly, not quite believing that the words were coming from her own mouth. The whole reason she loved it here at Honeybee Haven was that she could keep to herself and live her own life in peace. Connecting with Tansy was like striking a match.
She was sitting in that tiny pause now, she realised. Tansy had come with an intention and Maria had responded. This was the moment to turn back if she wanted to. The tiny slice of silence before it crackled and flared into new life and energy, casting light on everything around her.
‘Maria, I’m so happy you’ve said that. Truly. I know we’re going to be great friends.’ And to Maria’s astonishment, Tansy jumped out of her seat and hugged her. Her curly dark hair, smelling of sweetly scented shampoo, brushed Maria’s nose and she knew that the moment had passed. The match was lit.
8
The Eumundi markets heaved with people, as they did every Saturday. Tansy and Dougal had slept in, then lazed in bed with Tansy’s expertly made coffee and their iPads. Dougal had got home much later than usual last night, after a long meeting he couldn’t get out of. By the time he’d arrived, he’d just wanted to eat takeaway Thai with a glass of wine and then go to bed.
This morning she’d filled him in on her visit to Maria and the bees, but Dougal had still seemed preoccupied, so Tansy had tempted him into the shower, conveniently accruing some incidental sexiness as their naked bodies bumped up against each other with bodywash and warm water. Then they’d headed into Eumundi.
Now she hoped the sounds of live drumming and didgeridoo music, the smells of Vietnamese street food, the vibrant colours of flags and crystals and pottery, and the general bustle would bring his mind back from wherever it was. She couldn’t help but think of Maria, too, wondering how she was getting on selling her wares at the Yandina markets, just fifteen minutes away. She briefly thought of taking Dougal there to meet her, but wanted him to be in a better mood first.
The markets were a useful place for Tansy to do research for her work, stay abreast of new trends, and pick up items for her bedrooms in progress. ‘Not that I expect to find rocks here,’ she said, reaching for Dougal’s hand as they weaved their way through the throng.
‘Could be a cheap job,’ Dougal sa
id. ‘Plenty of rocks on the side of the road you could go and pick up.’
‘Ernest doesn’t need any more rocks.’ She laughed. ‘I think a big part of the job might just be finding pleasing ways to display them and keep them out of the road of the vacuum and out of his bed.’
Over the years Tansy had been doing this job, she’d come to realise that a significant part of the service she offered people was simply organisation. It amazed her that so many people lacked practical skills—unable even to use a drill to put up a shelf—and had no idea how to approach decluttering in a sensitive yet pragmatic way. At first she’d been frustrated with jobs like this, wishing for more challenging design jobs, free rein to totally gut and rebuild a room. But she’d come to accept that these types of ‘organising jobs’ she did for her clients were truly needed and deeply appreciated. And that was a great feeling.
‘He sleeps with his rocks?’ Dougal said, pausing to hand over a note for a freshly squeezed lime juice.
‘Yes, sometimes. His mum is pretty tolerant, actually. She doesn’t like them but she wants to support his obsession.’
‘It makes a change from Thomas the Tank Engine.’
‘Thankfully, yes.’ She linked her arm through his, pleased he was lumbering out of his mental man shed.
They wandered through the maze of stalls for a while and she took in the regular offerings: original artworks, hammocks, children’s tents, handbags, candles, crystals, soaps and woodcarvings. For the first time she noticed a few items decorated with bees, and wondered whether they’d always been there and she just hadn’t been aware of them, or whether they were new.
She waved to a few artisans she’d bought items from in the past, some of them regular suppliers for her kids’ bedrooms, and subtly navigated Dougal in the direction of the chemist. She ought to buy a pregnancy test today. ‘Let’s head this way,’ she said. ‘The wooden toys are down here; I might see something new.’
After passing the hot nuts, which smelled divine, and doughnuts, which smelled sickly, she decided to address Dougal’s distracted mood head on. ‘You’re waking up,’ she said cheerily.
‘What do you mean?’
She shrugged. ‘You’ve just been a bit quiet since last night. Did everything go okay in your meeting?’
He pulled her off the footpath, out of the way of walkers, and they stood underneath a huge shady tree on the edge of the stalls while he finished his lime juice. He tossed the cup in the bin, grimaced and thrust his hands in the pockets of his pants. ‘The company wants me to leave earlier than originally planned.’
‘Why?’
‘Kenneth, the guy I was going to help over there, has quit. His wife’s had a car accident—’
‘Oh no.’
‘—and she’s had some spinal damage and it looks like the rehab will take quite a while. He needs to be there for her and their three children.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘Yes, it is. The upshot is that they need me there as soon as possible.’
‘When?’
‘Next week.’
‘Next week?’ Her voice squeaked.
‘I’m afraid so. That’s what the meeting was about last night.’
‘But . . . but you can’t.’
‘Is there any reason we can’t go next week?’ He sounded genuinely curious.
‘Because . . .’ I might be having a baby. ‘Because we’re not ready.’ She looked around for a seat to sit on. The closest one was in the playground, so they walked over there, Tansy’s mind racing. All the seats were taken by families and couples eating burgers and baked potatoes. Tansy sat on a blue and yellow metal seesaw instead, near the fulcrum at the middle so she didn’t tip to the ground, and stared up at her husband.
‘I know this is sudden,’ he said.
‘Have you said yes?’
He scrunched up his nose and made some muttering noises, wiped a hand across his mouth and chin. ‘No. But I didn’t refuse either.’
Tansy stood again, a fraction taller than Dougal, her hands on her hips. ‘Shit, Dougal.’ She began to pace.
‘But if you think about it, there’s no reason we can’t get on a plane next week. Because Leo is staying in the house, we don’t have to do any major organisation, we can pretty much just leave. We don’t have pets, infirm parents or young kids to take care of, no garden, no real commitments that would stand in the way.’
‘What about my job?’
He nodded. ‘There is that. But you can just cancel the clients you’ve currently got and give them back their deposits, can’t you?’
A toddler in gumboots and overalls came running to the seesaw and clambered on one end, so they moved out of the way and headed to the playground’s wooden train, where they leaned against the engine.
‘Well, I could do that. But that’s not the point, is it?’
Dougal scratched the back of his head and nodded. ‘I know your work is important to you too.’
‘It is.’
‘And I think I’ve always been supportive of it, haven’t I?’
‘Yes,’ she confirmed.
‘So I don’t want you to think I’m dismissing it, but this is an unusual situation. And we had agreed to go anyway.’
‘In a couple of months’ time, not next week.’
He nodded silently, giving her a few moments to get her thoughts together. ‘I feel torn,’ he admitted at last. ‘I’ve been so excited about this new job. This will be the biggest, most complicated building I’ve worked on and I don’t feel like I can leave the company in the lurch. No one saw this coming; it’s just a freak accident that’s changed the plans and everyone has to adjust. I’m sorry.’
She took a deep breath. ‘It’s not your fault, I know that.’
He blew out a breath of tension and looked up past the end of the park. ‘Look, I need another coffee. You?’
‘Yes please.’ There were coffee stands and coffee shops every few metres. The smell was intoxicating.
‘I’ll go and order, give you a few minutes to catch your breath.’
She nodded, tears brimming. ‘But what about the reunion? And my birthday?’ If they left next week they’d be on the other side of the world for her birthday: there would be no reunion, her parents might still be fighting, and she’d have lost her chance to get to know Maria and certainly to get her mother and Maria talking again.
Dougal wrapped her in a big hug and held her tightly. ‘Just think about it.’
Tansy nodded into his shoulder and then he headed off to get their coffees. She spun in circles for a bit, gazing at the main street of Eumundi that she knew so well—the hanging pots above the footpath; Berkelouw bookstore with its trendy cafe, people sitting out the front drinking coffee in the sun; the double-storey wooden pub; and the cute shops with clothes and knick-knacks. It was all so familiar. It was her home. And she could be leaving it all behind as soon as next week.
Her eyes focused on the chemist across the road. She pulled out her phone and texted Dougal to say she had a headache and was popping across to get some aspirin and would meet him back here. It took her a while to find the pregnancy tests, and then longer than she’d intended to decide on which one to buy. In the end, she chose the most expensive one, which claimed it was capable of the earliest and most accurate detection. She was just handing it over to the smiling, perfectly made-up woman at the counter when several people appeared at her shoulder.
‘Hi!’
She snapped back her hand, still holding the box, and dropped it to her side, trying to conceal the box against her thigh.
‘Look who I found on the street,’ Dougal said, smiling. ‘We were just saying we should do dinner tonight.’ With him were Tansy’s cousin Jordan and his partner, Katarina, along with their son, Toby. Jordan and Katarina smiled, and went to hug her, and then looked down at her hand by her side, and Katarina tilted her head and opened her eyes wide, questioning, and the woman behind the counter was waiting with her hand outstretched. Dou
gal squinted down, confused. ‘What’s in your hand?’
Jordan at least seemed oblivious, his eyes now on Toby, who had wandered away and was picking up bubble bath off a shelf. Katarina, clearly totally aware of what was going on, plastered a huge smile on her face and said, ‘Look, we’ll keep going—give us a buzz later, Dougal, if you still want to do dinner tonight.’ She deftly pecked Tansy on the cheek and shepherded her flock out of the shop, leaving Tansy standing with the box in her hand and Dougal staring at her.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Did you want me to ring that one up for you?’ the chemist assistant asked helpfully.
Tansy handed it over with a note.
‘Tansy?’ Dougal was still waiting for an answer.
‘Can we talk about this outside?’ Tansy said, taking the box and her change and leaving the building.
‘Clearly, we have more to talk about than I first thought,’ Dougal said, matching her stride. His tone was unreadable. ‘Are you pregnant?’ They threaded through the crowds on their way back to the car.
‘I don’t know,’ Tansy said, irritated. ‘That’s why I bought a test.’
‘But how could you be? You’re on the pill, aren’t you?’
‘You see me take it every morning.’
The words caught in her chest. She had been taking it properly, hadn’t she? She hadn’t forgotten one or something?
‘How could this happen?’ Dougal asked.
‘We don’t even know if I am pregnant, so can we worry about this after we’ve got the results?’ she snapped.
Dougal clicked the remote of the Audi. ‘Yes, let’s just get home.’
9
‘Do they still exhume bodies at night?’ Hilda asked.
‘They do,’ George said, closing his eyes while Hilda rubbed lavender oil into his temples.
‘I suppose it would be awkward if you were there to bury Granny and the grave next door was being opened up. Not exactly comforting.’
‘No.’ He scratched at his moustache. The lavender smell had got up his nose and made him sneeze.
‘Who’s being exhumed?’ Helen asked, eyes wide beneath the long trendy grey fringe (why on earth young people would want to dye their hair grey for fun was beyond him) that George wished she would cut. But you can’t tell a sixteen-year-old girl what to do with her hair. She was foraging in the cupboard for a snack.
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