by C. Fonseca
“Oh dear, my driver usually helps me, but the traffic is atrocious this afternoon. Patrick is going around in circles.” The woman gazed at her with piercing dark brown eyes. Eleanor pulled back her shoulders, stood to attention, and almost saluted. After a moment’s intense scrutiny, the woman said, “You look safe enough. I will take up your offer, young lady.”
Eleanor supressed a laugh; she wasn’t used to elderly women checking her out and she wasn’t often described as a young lady. “Your bag looks rather heavy. Would you like me to carry it for you?”
“Fruit cake.” The woman giggled.
Now she’s calling me a fruit cake. “Maybe I am a little eccentric, but I’ve never been called a fruit cake before,” Eleanor said with a friendly smile.
The woman’s face lit up, her eyes twinkling. She handed over the bag. “It’s a cake for my granddaughter. It weighs a tonne.” She chuckled. “The secret is in the candied peel.”
“Sounds delicious.” Eleanor gripped the bag securely in one hand and offered her arm. “Shall we go?”
“Onward and upward.”
Eleanor pressed her lips firmly together. She didn’t want to ask outright, but why was this sweet old lady on the library steps by herself? The woman had a fierce grip and allowed Eleanor to escort her to the landing.
“Let me catch my breath, and I’ll relieve you of my bag.” She puffed slightly but otherwise seemed okay. “My dear, introductions are in order. Mrs Grace West.” She squeezed Eleanor’s forearm even tighter. “And you are?”
Eleanor winced subtly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs West. I am Eleanor Heysen.”
“Eleanor. What a lovely name.” She released Eleanor’s arm and looked about her.
“Where are you meeting your granddaughter? I have time to help you.”
“Oh, you are a darling,” Mrs West said. “She should be here right now, but she does have a habit of letting time get away from her.”
Eleanor shook her head. “Don’t you find that annoying?” She did, but sometimes you just had to be patient.
“Afternoon, Granny. I’m sorry, but time got away.”
Eleanor looked on in amazement, with her mouth half open as a familiar figure planted a kiss on Mrs West’s cheek. Low and behold, if it wasn’t Alexa Bellamy.
Mrs West caught Eleanor’s gaze and winked, as if to say, ‘I told you she’d be late.’
“Patrick called from the car and explained he was having trouble finding a park. He’s worried you are wandering around outside, waiting for him.” Alexa frowned.
“I was fortunate this young woman came to my assistance.”
“Which young woman?” Alexa turned suddenly and tilted her head to one side, giving Eleanor a questioning look. “It’s you!”
“Hi, Alexa.”
Mrs West looked from Eleanor to her granddaughter and back again. “Well, how delightful. You two know each other.”
“So, Alexa is your granddaughter?” Eleanor turned to her with a grin.
“Eleanor, what are you doing here already? I’m sure Katherine said two o’clock.”
“I’m early,” she explained sheepishly. “I came to the library to look at some books.”
Alexa raised her eyebrows. “You’re in the right place for that.”
Eleanor slipped her hands into her pockets to stop herself from fidgeting. “I should get on with it. Alexa, I’ll see you at two o’clock then.” She turned back to the elderly lady. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs West. I hope your granddaughter enjoys her gift.”
Alexa uncrossed her arms and held out her hand to Eleanor. “She was lucky you came along. Thank you for helping Granny.”
Eleanor stared at Alexa for a moment before she reached out and took her hand. Her fingers were soft, but her handshake firm. She looked down at her own hand, held warmly in Alexa’s grasp, and gave a little shiver of pleasure. She remembered her earlier phone conversation with Katherine Kent, who’d conveyed that Alexa Bellamy would be taking over, much to Eleanor’s delight, and assured her she was in good hands.
“Eleanor,” Mrs West said, stepping closer. “Have you had lunch?”
Eleanor reluctantly let go of Alexa and glanced down into Mrs West’s keen brown eyes. “No, I planned to grab a sandwich in the coffee shop.”
Mrs West waved her cane in the air dismissively. “Alexa, you won’t mind if Eleanor joins us for lunch, will you, dear?”
“Oh, I couldn’t intrude, Mrs West.” She flicked a concerned glance in Alexa’s direction to gauge her reaction.
Alexa shrugged.
“You are not intruding. And none of this Mrs West. Please call me Grace,” she said. “I visit Alexa during her lunch break twice a month after my Mahjong morning. It will be a pleasant change for the both of us.”
Eleanor rubbed at her temple and looked at Alexa, who smiled. She let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s true. She’s an ace at rolling a dice and creating winning sequences of tiles. Granny organises a regular game at an aged care home.” Alexa accepted the bag her grandmother passed her, bent forward, and plonked it on the tiled floor. “Gosh. What have you got in here? If I didn’t know you’d just arrived, I’d think you’d stashed away a few heavy volumes.”
Grace leaned lightly into Eleanor’s side and giggled. “Fruit cake.”
“I don’t know what you two are conspiring about, but please, Eleanor, join us. We can head up to my office later.” She picked up the weighty bag with ease and shifted it from one hand to the other. “Granny’s obviously taken a shine to you.”
Grace beamed. “Make my day and join us,” she whispered to Eleanor.
“How could I refuse such a persuasive offer?” Eleanor smiled. “Thank you. I’d love to.”
With her grandmother there, it was a perfect opportunity to learn more about Alexa Bellamy. The thought of getting to know her better sent a frisson of anticipation through Eleanor.
* * *
Alexa gave her grandmother an affectionate grin. She loved that Gran made the effort once a fortnight to have lunch together in the city. Today, she’d cleverly coerced Eleanor into joining them.
Granny sipped delicately on her apple juice and placed the glass on the table. “We don’t always meet here for our lunch date, do we, Alexa?” She folded her napkin and tucked it under her empty plate.
Actually, this had been their regular lunch spot for over a year, because it was so convenient for Alexa.
“Don’t get me wrong, Eleanor,” Granny continued. “I’m not complaining. The food is passable, but its fare is more suitable for the student crowd.”
“Yet, I see you’ve managed to eat every last bite of your frittata, Gran.” Alexa tapped the empty plate, once again tickled by her grandmother’s whimsical nature. Turning to Eleanor, she said, “It’s actually the limited lunch menu here that Granny isn’t fond of.”
“All they serve is standard fare.” Gran scowled. “I much prefer the food at Grossi-Florentino.”
“That restaurant was a favourite with my parents.” Eleanor’s mouth lifted with a charming grin. “They took me there for my sixteenth birthday. I especially remember the cassata cake with candied fruits.”
Alexa watched in amused silence as her grandmother and Eleanor chatted as if they’d known each other for years. Eleanor was noticeably more relaxed than the first time Alexa had met her, and Gran was clearly enamoured with Eleanor.
Alexa pondered Eleanor as a sixteen-year-old. Had she always had an athletic build? Did she wear her hair wavy and cropped, even then? Looking across the table, Alexa sighed dreamily. Eleanor’s fitted black T-shirt showed off her finely muscled arms. Alexa could certainly appreciate her agile body and the near-perfect symmetry of her face, and those arresting brown eyes. What stories lay within their soulful look?
Eleanor shifted in her chair and her
gaze fixed on Alexa. Her mouth widened, the corners lifting upward—her white teeth glistening in the light streaming in from the window. Alexa’s face grew warm under Eleanor’s undisguised scrutiny.
“So, you’ve only been back for a short time?” Gran leaned forward in her chair. “It must be such a relief that your father is on the mend.”
So, that explains why Eleanor is back in Melbourne, but for how long? Alexa felt a slight pang of disappointment at the thought that Eleanor might be leaving soon.
“Yes, three weeks,” Eleanor said. “He’s not entirely himself, but he is doing really well.”
“Will he be able to return to work?”
“Not for at least a few months.” Eleanor cupped her chin in her hand. “His doctor warned him about returning too soon and risking a setback.”
“I expect you’ll stay a while then?” Gran asked, stealing the question that had been preying on Alexa’s mind.
“Until he’s tired of me fussing over him and I’m totally satisfied he’s out of danger.” Eleanor shrugged. “I’d love to hear about your Mahjong tournament, Grace.”
The pair bantered back and forth on the topic of Mahjong, until Alexa got tired of being the third wheel. Was Eleanor interested in the game or was she just being polite? Alexa arranged her cutlery neatly on her plate and pushed it aside.
“Gran.” She placed an arm lightly around grandmother’s shoulder. “Eleanor’s mother is a friend of my boss, Katherine Kent. Eleanor came into the library last week with some extraordinary old slides from the mid-1800s.”
Her grandmother looked at Eleanor for an explanation. “Oh,” she said. “You must tell me more.”
Eleanor reached into her bag and extracted a file that had been folded in half. “Alexa e-mailed me the preliminary report. I have it here.” She glanced tentatively at Alexa across the table, as though silently seeking permission. “Thank you.” She looked down at the file held together with a red ribbon. “I made a few notes…for our meeting.” Her dark lashes fluttered; a hint of shyness surfaced whenever she spoke to Alexa. Surely, it wasn’t a reaction to Alexa. She must still be anxious about her aunt’s slides.
“I hope you don’t mind that Katherine handed the project over to me. We are pleased that you’ve left your slides with us for now. What did you think of our findings so far?” Alexa rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know about you, but I’m excited.”
Gran placed a hand on Eleanor’s forearm. “Alexa is the expert on old pictures, you know.”
“Yes, I know your granddaughter is the Pictorial Collections Manager. And highly regarded according to Katherine.” Eleanor squeezed Gran’s hand, then lifted her head and looked directly at Alexa, her eyes bright with interest.
“I’m just part of the team.” Alexa felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Why did Eleanor’s small praise make her feel a little giddy?
“Nonsense,” her grandmother declared. “You spent years at university, have your master’s in history, and started your PhD.”
Eleanor gave Gran a warm smile. “You must be so proud of her.”
“I am.” Gran beamed with pride. “Alexa Primrose Bellamy.”
“Primrose?”
“What can I say? My mother was a florist,” Alexa explained.
Eleanor leaned towards her and said, “Primrose, the symbol of beauty and youth.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Alexa stared wide-eyed at Eleanor.
The warmth of Eleanor’s sparkling grin disarmed Alexa. She undid the top button of her shirt and looked away. “Thanks for embarrassing me, Gran.”
They all fell silent for a few moments. Alexa pondered what else her grandmother planned to reveal.
Eleanor reached for her file, untied the ribbon, and flattened the pile of papers. “I can’t believe the slides are the missing part of a collection you already have at the library,” she said, looking very pleased.
Turning to her grandmother with an excited grin, Alexa said, “Granny, we found out they are from the Lehmann Collection. I told you about this project when I first started working on it. One thousand, seven hundred glass plate negatives from the 1870s. Do you remember, they were discovered in a garden shed?”
Gran raised her chin. “Wasn’t Lehmann the chap who found the huge gold nugget?”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “A huge gold nugget. Who was he?”
“A German prospector who made his fortune in the goldfields. He’s the one who commissioned touring photographers Norlane and Bolton to photograph his family and members of the goldfield communities,” Alexa said. “As you can imagine, it’s a significant record of life in the 1800s.”
Eleanor cleared a space on the table and tidily spread out the photocopied slide images and the notes Alexa had e-mailed her.
Alexa leaned forward, pointing to the corner of the top image. “See this number, Gran?”
“Bring it closer, Alexa.” Her grandmother lifted the spectacles that hung around her neck on a delicate chain. “I’m intrigued.”
“Of course. Look here.” Alexa held the image steadily in front of her grandmother. “The number 1062/1705 identifies the slide’s sequence, proving it is part of the Lehmann Collection.”
Gran patted Eleanor on the forearm. “You had the winning hand. Well done. What is this picture?”
“It looks like a medicine cabinet to me.” Eleanor pointed at the wooden box in the image.
Alexa nodded. “And the man sitting beside it is probably a Chinese herbalist. They were prevalent in the goldfield towns.”
Her grandmother covered her mouth with her hand. The colour had drained from her face.
Panic tightened Alexa’s chest. “Are you all right, Gran?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could.
Gran patted her stomach and let out a loud groan. “Oh dear, that meal most surely contained gluten, I can tell. I’m getting a queasy feeling. You must complain to the kitchen, Alexa.”
“Oh, Granny,” Alexa said with a relieved smile, “we did check with the waiter, and he asked the chef. They assured us your meal was entirely gluten-free. In any case, you aren’t gluten intolerant. You’ve just been funny about it since you saw that healthy cooking show on television.”
“Well, then. I must be intolerant to something else,” her grandmother said with an indignant pout and pushed the paper back in front of Eleanor. She gave Alexa a stern look and drained her remaining fruit juice. She placed the glass down with a thud. “Gluten is linked to many stomach conditions, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Alexa scrunched her forehead, considering her grandmother’s retort. She couldn’t think of a reason for her strange behaviour, but she was sure it had something to do with the image of the Chinese herbalist and not the perceived gluten in the food.
“Can I do anything?” Eleanor asked, looking alarmed. “Shall I get you another drink?”
Gran shook her head and gave Eleanor a bright smile. “No, dear. I’m feeling slightly better already. But thank you for being concerned.” She glanced down at the elegant gold watch on her wrist. “Alexa, you need to call Patrick and tell him I’m ready to go home.” She placed her glasses into her bag. “Anyway, isn’t it time you two conducted your meeting?”
Alexa was reluctant to let her grandmother leave, but she knew she wouldn’t budge about the real reason for her outburst, especially in front of Eleanor. “Indeed, you’re right,” Alexa said. “Thank you for the cake, Gran. It must have a kilo or more of fruit. I’ll have to watch how much I eat.”
Her grandmother dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Fiddlesticks. You are just like your dear mother. Slender as a reed,” she said and turned to Eleanor. “Maybe you would like some of my fruit cake? Absolutely gluten-free.”
At the mention of her mother, Alexa lowered her head and toyed with the treasured ring she wore on her right index
finger. The vibrant gold-flecked, green-hued ring had been given to her mother, on Alexa’s birth. The ring was an heirloom from Gran’s side of the family. “It’s the colour of your eyes, my darling girl,” her mother used to say, “It will be yours when I’m gone.” She missed her mother so very much. Her heart ached at her loss, every single day.
Alexa looked up to find Eleanor and Gran chatting quietly. Her grandmother sat, as always, with a ramrod straight back, her head held proudly. Occasionally, she’d pat her snow-white hair and lean her delicate frame ever so slightly toward Eleanor, her dark eyes blinking mischievously as they spoke. Alexa sighed. Gran seemed absolutely fine.
She gave a little wave to attract their attention and reached into her blazer pocket for her phone. “Excuse me, I’ll just check if Patrick is close by.”
Eleanor steadied the back of Gran’s chair and held out an arm to help her stand. So, Eleanor was incredibly attentive and sweet. Alexa couldn’t help but smile. Eleanor’s movements were smooth, and she wore her arty T-shirt, jeans, and leather ankle boots like a chic but dishevelled rock star. Cool and sexy. Obviously, Eleanor would be here in Melbourne until her father recovered, and Alexa was open to a brief encounter of the no-strings-attached kind. Kelly was right. Eleanor was high on the scale of Alexa’s type. Alexa hoped the attraction was mutual.
Gran looked delighted as she held onto Eleanor’s arm. “Such impeccable manners. If only I was fifty years younger.” She almost swooned.
Oh, Granny, you’ve still got the moves. There’s a thing or two I can learn from you. Alexa wished she could be as spontaneous as her grandmother.
A faint blush darkened Eleanor’s cheeks, as if she could read Alexa’s thoughts.
* * *
A short time later, Eleanor and Alexa delivered Grace into the safe hands of Patrick. Grace referred to him as her long-time driver, as though he was exclusively at her disposal; however, Alexa whispered to Eleanor that he was an ex-taxi, now Uber driver with a soft spot for her grandmother. Eleanor could understand that. In a short time, she had already established a fondness for Grace and a respect for her feistiness. She’d enjoyed witnessing a flash of that spark in Alexa.
