The Beekeeper's Secret

by Josephine Moon

  So—for the greater good—she concocted an elaborate lie, declaring that she had an emergency decorating job she needed to go to this afternoon. She told Leo firmly that she needed him for some muscle work, not giving him any option to back out. Not that he would. He was generous to a fault.

  ‘What kind of emergency?’ Enid asked, incredulous. ‘On a Sunday afternoon?’

  ‘It’s a respite centre here on the coast,’ Tansy said, trying to hold eye contact with her mother as best she could while her brain searched for a convincing story. ‘They’ve had some . . . water damage. A pipe burst and has flooded the place.’

  ‘Oh, that’s no good,’ Enid said, sitting up straight. ‘Sounds like they need a clean-up crew, not a decorator.’

  ‘The clean-up’s largely underway,’ Tansy said confidently. ‘But they need help to get the place feeling calm and homely again by tomorrow and asked me to do a bit of styling and the like. I don’t mind. I like to help and it’s good networking.’

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Enid said, rising from the couch.

  ‘No! No, Mum. I couldn’t let you do that on your first day here. Please stay and rest. If there’s more work to do tomorrow you could help then,’ Tansy said, her heart thudding.

  ‘But you know I like to help out in the community,’ Enid protested. ‘Honestly, it would give me something to do to keep my mind off things.’

  Tansy was momentarily lost for words, imagining the family crisis that would erupt if she told her mother the truth about going to Maria’s place. Besides, she’d enjoyed their cup of tea the other day and was chuffed that Maria had called her now and didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

  ‘Cake,’ she suddenly said, snapping her fingers. ‘You know, I bet the hospice would love some baked goods, to help lift their spirits and all. Why don’t you stay here and bake and I’ll drop the goods down to them tomorrow?’

  Enid considered this. ‘I guess I could do that.’

  ‘Your honey bread’s a winner. Why don’t you do that?’ Tansy said, nodding and smiling as though it was the best idea in the world.

  Her mother’s eyes slid from Tansy’s to Leo’s. Leo looked completely unconcerned; he had already put on his shoes and was waiting to go.

  ‘Okay,’ Enid said. ‘It has been a big day. Perhaps it would be best if I stay and bake. If you think that would help?’

  ‘Absolutely. I’m positively sure it’s the best thing you could do right now.’

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Leo said, sitting beside her in her white Barina, rather more modest than Dougal’s sleek dark Audi, as she drove the winding roads past horse properties and crop farms, heading towards Eudlo. He’d been listening to the many phone calls she’d made while driving, talking on the hands-free, ordering Leo to look up numbers for her. And now that she’d finally fallen silent, he wanted answers. Her fingers tightened around the wheel.

  ‘We’ve just lied to Enid and sent her on a wild bake chase, hired two chainsaws, and roped in Jordan, Katarina and Toby in an elaborate plot to help your aunt, a woman you’ve only just met, who used to be a nun and for some reason hasn’t spoken to your mum or Florrie in more than fifty years, and who runs a business that serves an orphanage and has had a tree fall through a cabin. Yes?’

  ‘That’s about it, yes.’

  ‘And what does Dad think about all this?’

  They passed an unmanned stall on the road selling avocados with an honesty tin near the bags of fruit.

  ‘That’s a good question,’ Tansy murmured.

  ‘He doesn’t know?’

  ‘Not about this. He knows I’ve been planning a family reunion and that I wanted Maria there as a surprise. He was supposed to be helping me organise it, but I guess the Canada thing’s got in the way.’

  ‘But you’re not leaving for ages yet.’

  Tansy shot him a quick sideways glance. ‘Ah, I forgot you didn’t know. There’ve been some changes and it looks like Dougal’s going next week—this week, actually. He only told me yesterday. I’m sorry you didn’t know yet.’

  ‘Oh.’ Leo took a few moments to absorb that information. Then, ‘And what about you? Are you going this week too?’

  She tapped the wheel as she slowed for a particularly sharp bend. ‘That’s also a good question. I should be, I guess. But now I’m not sure.’

  ‘Is this why you stayed away last night?’

  ‘I was at Jordan and Katarina’s,’ she said, without elaborating.

  Leo seemed to sense that he should leave it alone and didn’t say any more. They passed through the tiny town of Eudlo and headed up the mountain to Honeybee Haven. Shortly afterwards, Tansy spied Jordan and Katarina’s blue HiLux coming into the rear-view mirror. Picking up the chainsaws had slowed Tansy and Leo down, which meant both cars were now on track to arrive at the same time. Leo turned around in the seat and waved to them.

  The main parking lot for Honeybee Haven was at the bottom of the hill, but Tansy had learned (after walking up all those steps the first time) that there was a tradie’s track up to a temporary parking and loading bay next to the dining hall, and she led the blue HiLux up there now.

  Maria felt better the moment she saw the vehicles pull up and Tansy step out of her car, smiling her wide smile, her sunglasses perched on her wayward dark curls. She’d have thought the arrival of so many people—all of them related to her, or so Tansy had warned her on the phone—would have been something to fret about. And maybe two hours ago it would have been. But instead she felt almost giddy. The weight of silence and loneliness of the past two hours, waiting here on her own, feeling vulnerable and helpless, flew off, like a kite snatched up by the wind and buffeted away.

  She embraced Tansy gratefully, then stood back and shook Leo’s outstretched hand, gazing at this man, her step-grandnephew, arriving on her door with his tanned skin and easygoing movements. And then tumbling out of the HiLux came a small boy—Toby—another grandnephew, this one barrelling towards her and talking to her before he was properly in earshot. She shook his hand too, and placed her own on his head, emotion—glorious emotion—welling thick in her chest. And there was Jordan, her nephew, Florrie’s boy, and his partner, Katarina. All five of them stood before her and she could barely speak for the whirling in her heart and mind.

  ‘I’m so happy and grateful to have you all here,’ she managed. ‘And I’m so pleased to meet you all, finally.’ She bit her lip and Tansy squeezed her to her side, supporting her.

  ‘It’s our honour,’ Jordan said. ‘You’ve been missing from our family for too long.’

  Maria laughed. ‘The black sheep.’

  ‘Not anymore,’ Tansy said. ‘But we’ll have plenty of time to talk through all of this. Right now, we have a lot of work to do.’ She gazed at the huge tree that stabbed across the lawn. Its branches, even lying down, were much taller than any of them.

  ‘We’ve brought chainsaws,’ Leo said, opening the boot and pulling out the treacherous-looking orange and black weapons. ‘We’ll stack up all the wood and you can use it yourself if you’ve got a fireplace, or sell it to make money for the charity.’ He placed the chainsaws on the ground and returned to the boot for the jerry cans of petrol.

  ‘We don’t have a fireplace, sadly, but that’s a wonderful idea to sell the wood. I can get our handyman to take loads down the mountain in his ute. He should be here soon and can help stack them up. It’ll be a great seller coming into winter. Thank you.’

  ‘Let’s get moving,’ Tansy said. ‘We have to get it all cleared before Tulip arrives in the morning.’

  ‘Tulip?’ Maria said. ‘Another family member?’

  ‘No. She’s a friend of mine. She’s a children’s party host and she has a fairy-themed caravan that she takes around to parties. It’s painted bright pink, fully kitted out inside as a magical garden and fairy land, and also has a double bed and two single beds, all with beautiful netting and fairy lights that twinkle from the ceiling. We cross each other’s path fr
om time to time, just by virtue of working in the same circles, and we get along well. I phoned her and called in a favour.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘She’s bringing her caravan up here for your guests to stay in instead of the poor old cabin over there.’ Tansy gestured to the splintered boards beneath the fallen tree.

  Maria tried to visualise a pink van in the midst of the other cabins.

  ‘I know it’s not in keeping with your theme . . .’ Tansy said, looking suddenly worried.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Maria said quietly, taking Tansy’s hand. ‘The kids will love it. They’ll probably fight over it, actually.’

  ‘She’ll also be doing a show for all the kids, free of charge.’

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ Maria said. ‘I can’t believe it. You’ve done so much.’

  Tansy laughed. ‘We haven’t even started yet.’

  ‘Come on, boys, time to flex your muscles,’ Katarina said, taking charge and moving them towards the tree. ‘Now, Toby, you aren’t to touch the chainsaws under any circumstance. Do you understand?’ she pressed, pointing at the tools as Leo and Jordan started pouring petrol into the tanks.

  Toby looked longingly at the chainsaws, their metal teeth being unsheathed in readiness to take on the tree. But he nodded obediently.

  ‘Good boy. You’re going to help me,’ Katarina went on.

  Jordan straightened and looked at Katarina. ‘Make sure you leave anything heavy to us,’ he instructed. ‘Don’t overdo it, okay? You can give orders instead.’

  ‘Okay.’ She nodded, sounding a little exasperated. ‘We talked about this on the way up. I promise not to do anything silly.’

  ‘What are we doing?’ Toby asked his mum.

  Katarina turned to Maria. ‘Do you have a wheelbarrow?’

  ‘Yes, of course. It’s in the garden shed, up near the chook house. I’ll take you up there.’

  So the three women, plus Toby, took the short walk across the lawn, past the shower block and the raised garden beds overflowing with bright red capsicums, yellow chillis, purple eggplants, and virtual forests of spinach, silver beet and spring onions. Jolly bees hovered and darted in among the flowers. Maria yanked open the rickety wooden shed door. They filed in and collected gardening gloves, bags, rakes, shovels, long-handled secateurs, hammers, screwdrivers and buckets. They loaded most of it into the wheelbarrow, looked at each other for a moment as if only now realising what a huge job lay before them, and then smiled, put their heads down and started hauling the items back towards the sound of the chainsaws ripping into the silence and the tree.

  An hour later, two more cars arrived. A person emerged from each, and Tansy recognised one as timid Petrice, but she didn’t know the other.

  ‘You made it!’ Maria cried, her hands clasped around Petrice’s biceps.

  ‘I’d do anything for you,’ Petrice said shyly, the toe of her shoe digging into the dirt and her fingers tucking her purple-streaked hair behind her triple-studded ear.

  ‘I know you would. You’re my right-hand-girl,’ Maria said gently.

  Tansy was touched; Maria had obviously played an important role in this young woman’s life and recovery.

  The man shook hands with everyone and introduced himself as Trav, the dogsbody.

  ‘Stop it, you are not,’ Maria chided. ‘You are our skilled and generous handyman.’

  Trav was white-haired, with huge dark eyes, a thick Scottish accent and a gentle demeanour. He wasn’t especially tall, but seemed sturdy. ‘Wow,’ he said, viewing the tree, already being broken down into logs and rounds. He ran his hand across the back of his neck. ‘That’s nowt something you see every day, Sister, hey?’ He turned to Maria and gave her a sympathetic raise of his bushy brows.

  ‘Certainly isn’t,’ she agreed.

  Tansy’s phone buzzed and she dug it out from a deep pocket in her cargo pants. It was a text from Dougal.

  I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk before you had to leave. I hope everything is going okay at the hospice. What time do you think you’ll be home?

  She’d have to clear up that little lie with Dougal tonight. She wouldn’t be able to keep track of all these stories soon.

  Up here on the mountain, in this surreal situation and surrounded by these people, with the afternoon sun still warm and a gentle breeze in the trees, the memory of the argument with Dougal lost its heat. He’d made an effort to be nice in his text, which meant quite a lot, actually. It was more than she’d done, she acknowledged.

  She looked at the massive task in front of them and at all the busy hands moving, stacking, dragging, carting, raking and hauling. There was noise and industry all around—the roar of the chainsaws, the scraping of branches and leaves across the grass. The crunch of gravel as the remains of the hut were dragged to the loading bay, and the smashing and clashing as wood, bricks and metal were stacked in readiness for the skip bin—the biggest one she could get—that she’d organised to be delivered at six tomorrow morning.

  She quickly texted back. After dark, I’d say. Can you make sure Mum gets something to eat? She paused before adding, I’m sorry too. I love you.

  He replied immediately. I love you too.

  The sun began to fall off in the distance behind Yellow Tara, which was next to where White Tara had been, flooding their work area with a burst of intense heat and glaring rays. To Maria, it felt cleansing. They weren’t that far from finishing. She’d never have thought it possible when the tree first fell, but it was incredible what eight hard-working individuals could do when they set their minds to it. And it was all because of Tansy.

  She stood with a tray full of sandwiches and cups of water, and watched her niece take one end of a sheet of corrugated iron from the roof of White Tara and her nephew—her nephew—Jordan take the other and together, laughing, carry it across the lawn towards the rubbish pile that now extended into the loading bay. Katarina, Toby and Petrice had put themselves in charge of the wood; they had stacked it in attractive pyramids behind the dining hall as there was no more space in the loading bay. Over time, Trav would load the wood into his ute and deliver it to customers.

  Trav’s and Leo’s shirts were stained with sweat patches, and Leo had pulled his shoulder-length hair back into a tiny ponytail to keep it off his neck while he worked. They were now considering the wishing well, and were moving stones here and there, assessing what they needed to do to fix it.

  ‘Let it go to the skip,’ she ordered. Good riddance. In all honesty, she was glad to see it go; she could do without any reminders of wells lying around. Later on, she’d put a beautiful birdbath there instead.

  Maria was filled with a rush of achievement and a glow of gratitude. Then she realised she’d been standing and staring, grinning like a fool, while the worker bees in front of her needed sustenance. She set about taking the tray around to everyone, somehow feeling light despite the chaos of the afternoon. Today, a lot had been lost; but so much had been found.

  14

  Returning to Honeybee Haven on Monday morning, Tansy and Leo alighted into a hive of activity. Maria seemed to have recovered her fortitude, if the fact that she was shouting into a megaphone was anything to go by. Trav cleaned up debris from the wishing well, dug out the remnants of the concrete and patched the earth. Tansy wondered why Maria would want to get rid of something as feel-good as a wishing well, particularly one which actually collected coins for the orphanage. Petrice was loading rubble into the ginormous skip bin with metallic bangs and clangs. She staggered under the weight of a large plank, and Leo leapt to her aid, catching the end of it before it swung around and knocked her over.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, steadying the weight.

  Petrice gaped at him and nodded rapidly, her neck flushing with colour.

  Leo laughed. ‘Come on, let me help you.’ He led the way to the bin, whistling the dwarves’ ‘Hi Ho’ song, while the colour rushed further up Petrice’s neck.

  Maria ju
mped in surprise when Tansy reached her side. ‘Oh, Tansy.’ She beamed. ‘What have you got there?’

  ‘Honey bread. Six loaves of it, actually.’

  Maria lowered her megaphone and sniffed the bread through the cling wrap. ‘That reminds me of childhood,’ she said softly, straightening.

  ‘That might be because my mother made them,’ Tansy said.

  ‘Goodness.’ Maria inhaled the aroma again. ‘She must have got Mum’s recipe before she died.’ Her voice was low and wistful. Tansy had the urge to hug her aunt but knew that Maria needed to keep it together today. There’d be plenty of time for sentiment once this crisis had passed.

  ‘I had to keep her occupied while I came up here.’ Tansy squirmed. ‘I’m afraid I told a few lies. Sorry. I’m not normally so deceptive.’

  Maria’s nose twitched and several thoughts seemed to flicker behind her eyes. ‘Sometimes you just have to do what you need to do,’ she said, then raised the megaphone to shout, ‘Make sure you check the other trees too,’ at a man in a long-sleeved khaki shirt who was bent over inspecting the remains of the trunk and roots of the eucalyptus tree. He nodded and looked around at the other trees nearby.

  ‘I’ve got the arborist out to investigate what went wrong with the tree,’ Maria told Tansy, nodding towards the man in the khaki shirt. ‘We can’t have that happening again. And these other men are the electricians, securing the site.’ A couple of men in orange high-viz vests squatted at the plot where White Tara had stood just this time yesterday.

  ‘Remember to put in an external power point for the caravan,’ Maria shouted at them. One of the men raised his hand in acknowledgement.

  As if on cue, a slow rumble of an engine alerted them to the arrival of Tulip’s four-wheel-drive, towing her wondrous pink caravan up the hill.

  ‘Here she comes,’ Tansy said, and waved her hand high above her head to get Tulip’s attention; in reply, Tulip’s four-wheel-drive flashed its lights. The paintwork of the fifties-style beetle-shaped van glittered in the morning sun. Tulip was a bona fide friend, Tansy realised. Well, maybe a work friend, outer-circle type, good acquaintance. But in the realm of friendship, certainly.