‘It feels happy, right?’ she asked.
‘It looks amazing,’ Mandy said as she came through the gate. ‘Vaguely familiar.’ She winked.
‘Thanks.’
‘She’d be proud. You can tell it’s been done with love.’ She hugged Nicole.
‘Now, before anyone else arrives, we’ve got something for you. Well, for the cottage.’
Trevor and Danny completed the circle around Nicole.
‘We wanted to give you something to finish off the renovations,’ Mandy said.
‘You’ve restored this place to its former glory and I know how connected you feel to Ivy, and, well, I hope this is okay.’
Trevor handed her a piece of wood wrapped in a blue and white bow.
‘Made it myself.’
Looking at the house plaque, Nicole breathed in deeply. Into the dark wood, bordered by leaves and vines etched to different depths, ‘Ivy Cottage’ was carved.
‘It’s perfect.’ She wrapped them all in a group hug.
‘I’ll hang it now if you like?’ Trevor offered.
‘Yes, please.’
Trevor headed back to his truck to fetch his tools.
‘You keep an eye on that,’ he said to Danny, pointing at the barbecue.
Mandy turned to Nicole. ‘You go freshen up. People are coming up the road.’
It took a few minutes to compose herself. Nicole splashed her face with water – happy tears were no different from sad, making her skin red and blotchy. As she headed back out on the verandah she took in the scene before her.
On the lawn, groups of people sat on picnic blankets or around portable tables on fold-up chairs. Each blanket and table was laden with bowls and plates of food. Some people stood, talking and laughing with glasses in their hands. Others were at Nicole’s salad table dishing themselves up pasta or greens. Half-a-dozen men, including Jason and Bill Tucker, joined Danny and Trevor at the barbecue, and they all took turns turning sausages and steaks before plating them up to ferry back to their family groups. Bill saw Nicole and tipped his peaked cap to her.
She waved at him in greeting.
Little children were running around playing tip, and the older ones had started a game of soccer. Nicole leaned against the post and watched them for a moment before shifting her gaze.
Jacqui and Mandy were in lively discussion on a bright, orange blanket next to the metal brolga perched on the lawn. Cheryl and Jim were talking with Jack over by the roses he had planted. Jim appeared to be asking Jack questions, but the poor lad was distracted, stealing glances at Katie Lewis, who was entertaining a crawling Amy. George was handing out cans of soft drink from the two eskies he’d brought with him from the pub.
Kicking off her sandals, Nicole laughed and stepped down on the grass with bare feet – the only fitting way to freely enjoy the day. She headed over to grab a plate and fill it up.
Mandy joined her. ‘What a turn-out. Half the town is here.’ She spooned noodle salad on to her plate.
‘It’s amazing.’
‘Nice send-off for Danny, too,’ Mandy said. ‘He flies out tomorrow, doesn’t he?’
‘You know he does.’ Nicole noticed Mandy’s smirk. ‘Giving so much time to that school is amazing.’ Nicole shook her head.
‘You know,’ Mandy said and Nicole turned to face her friend, recognising the conspiratorial tone of voice. ‘He doesn’t just work at the school.’
‘Oh?’
‘He built it. And I don’t just mean physically with his hands, which is also true. I mean he funded it. He went backpacking after he finished school with some mates and stumbled across the area and fell in love with the place. And, well, after Caitlyn, he used the money his grandfather left him and went back and built them a school. Been going back ever since.’
‘You know you don’t have to sell him to me anymore,’ she said.
‘Just making sure.’ Mandy grinned.
‘Touché.’
A sudden loud whistle from Trevor silenced the entire gathering.
‘Thanks everyone for coming along today,’ he shouted.
Everyone turned to face him.
‘It’s great to be able to celebrate yesterday’s glorious win with you all.’
‘Carn the mighty Rangers!’ Greg called out.
‘And can we thank our generous host? Nicole!’
Trevor waited for the next round of cheering and clapping to subside.
‘While this weekend is about winning …’
Another cheer.
‘… the cove also lost, well, one of its icons, I guess, this week. Nicole, would you mind saying a few words about Charlie?’
Nicole was not at all prepared. But all eyes were on her. Including the pair belonging to a tall stranger who’d just come through the gate.
‘I gather most of you didn’t know Charlie too well.’ She searched for fitting words. ‘A lot of you were even frightened of him, I hear.’
A few people shuffled their feet in discomfort.
‘But, I did know him, as well as he let me, and he was a kind, intelligent man, who was a good friend to me at a time in my life when, well, I didn’t have too many friends.’ She looked to Mandy, who tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. ‘Something I’ve come to learn about the people of Rosella Cove is how special they are. Their generosity of spirit is boundless, their friendship is genuine, and I can tell you all that Charlie truly was part of this town. From what I can gather, there are a few among you who also saw glimpses of that in him.’
Mandy was next up and told everyone how Charlie had helped her with her mum, leaving out the more intimate details of her mum’s undignified fall into dementia. Danny told of his encounter in the bush. One by one, half-a-dozen people also came forward and recounted personal moments that painted Charlie in a very different light from that of his reputation.
Nicole smiled broadly and raised her glass.
‘To two fine examples of our wonderful community: to the mighty Rangers and to Charlie.’
The crowd echoed the toast.
‘That was lovely,’ Mandy said. ‘He’d have hated it, but it was really nice.’
The tall stranger picked his way through the pockets of happy people until he was standing in front of Nicole and Mandy.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Sorry to crash your party. You must be Nicole Miller.’ He extended his hand. ‘Mr Dixon said I’d find you here.’
‘Oh, hi.’ Nicole shook his hand, his grip firm. ‘That’s dedication for you. Working on a Sunday.’
‘Working?’ Confusion read across his face.
‘Mr Dixon sent you. From Dixon and Doyle. Charlie’s lawyers.’
‘Oh, no.’ The man shook his head. ‘I mean yes. They are Charlie’s lawyers. But I’m not.’
‘You’re not?’
‘No. Sorry.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I should start again. My name’s Dr James Baker. I’m Charlie’s son.’
Thirty-eight
Nicole dropped her glass.
‘Sorry?’
Thank goodness for Mandy, who bent down and cleaned up the mess, as Nicole was unable to move.
‘I wasn’t expecting … I didn’t know … his son?’ She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’
‘Yeah. I shouldn’t have just turned up unannounced like this.’ He ran his hand through greying hair. ‘But as soon as I found out, I had to come. All these years I never knew he was alive.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ Nicole said. ‘I guess we need to have a long chat.’
‘I can come back when it’s more convenient.’
‘No. Stay. Please. Have something to eat. Once this is done we can sit down properly.’ She looked into his eyes – the same grey eyes as Charlie’s.
Danny came over and placed an arm around Nicole’s shoulder briefly. ‘Come and I’ll fetch you something off the barbie,’ he said.
‘Thanks. Oh …’ James turned back to Nicole. ‘Is Ivy here?’
&nb
sp; ‘Ivy?’
‘Ivy Wilson.’
Nicole and Mandy shared a glance.
‘Ivy was the woman who owned the cottage originally. But she’s been dead more than forty years.’
‘Oh.’ James looked surprised. ‘But you’ve been living here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I guess this is for you.’ He handed her an envelope. ‘Mr Dixon couriered this to me yesterday. It came with instructions for me to deliver it personally.’
Nicole looked down at the envelope.
Ivy Wilson
The Carved Shell Box
Wilson’s Rd
Rosella Cove
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
‘This is the only house on the road and I didn’t see a shell box out front.’ James shrugged. ‘So I came through the gate.’
‘No. The box is … We’ll talk about that too.’ She smiled.
James turned and followed Danny, refusing the beer on offer but taking a squash instead, and Mandy steered Nicole inside.
My sweet Ivy,
I hope this letter finds its way back to you. If it does, then it means the wrongs of the past have started their long journey towards redemption.
I’ve done what you asked of me. I’ve tried to make right. I’d let the whole thing go to pot after you passed – the cottage, the boatshed, myself. You’d have been pretty damn disappointed. But I never did touch the drink again. Not a drop. That’s one promise that didn’t take four decades to fulfil. I’ve done nothing to be proud of in my life, but I hope you’ll be proud of my final few breaths.
Nicole has done a pretty good job fixing up the neglect I imposed on your house. I couldn’t touch the place after you left and couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else in it. But my time’s been coming a while now, and I knew I had to make good on my promise to you. Perhaps you had a hand in bringing her here. I’d like to believe that. She’s a lot like you. Smart, feisty, insolent, pushy. Like you, she is a gem amongst the stones. She’s made these last few months waiting for death bearable.
My son survived. I found him. I don’t know what became of my Hannah, my sweet Hannah. I will carry the guilt of that night with me into the next life.
I’ve been watching James, watching him from afar and he’s a fine man, not at all taking after his father, thank goodness.
I’m leaving him the cottage and the boatshed. They must stay together.
It doesn’t change what I did and it can hardly make up for it, but, perhaps it is a gesture that can, in some inadequately small way, say I’m sorry. There is a little bit of money over from what you left me. I hope it is okay that I give it to Nicole.
I also sent James a letter. I don’t know what Hannah would have told him about me, if she ever had the chance, but I figure I owe him the truth. When we leave this world what else is there left?
I hope he can forgive me, though I doubt I could if roles were reversed. I am a coward. James will not have the chance to ask me questions, or to get angry with me, or hate me, or hit me, or look on at me with pity. I’ve robbed him of that, too afraid to face him in person. My only hope is that he is a better man than I and will find a way to deal with the truth.
I hope you made it back into your Thomas’s arms. I imagine where I’m heading now, no friendly smile will greet me. Only flames. The irony of that is not lost on me. I will conjure your beautiful face in my mind to comfort me.
Thank you for saving me, Ivy.
Charlie
Nicole read the letter out loud, her voice breaking.
‘Bugger me.’ Mandy let out a long breath.
Trevor knocked on the doorframe to the kitchen. ‘Sorry to interrupt, girls, but a few people are starting to leave and I thought you might want to say goodbye.’
‘Thanks, honey,’ Mandy said. ‘We’ll be right out.’
The women stood up and fixed their hair, splashed their faces with water and headed back outside.
‘I’ll join you in a sec,’ Nicole said as Mandy opened the screen door.
She went into her bedroom and opened Ivy’s box, now on display in the middle of her dresser. She put Charlie’s letter in the back and closed the lid, her fingers lingering on the top just briefly.
Nicole’s friends had welcomed James like she knew they would. Everyone had left now except those that were closest to her, and the small group sat around the table under the tall gum. The sun had dropped low towards the horizon and the air was filled with love and gentle laughter.
Nicole could see James beginning to relax and she hoped he would feel comfortable among them. He’d mentioned little about himself, other than he was from Sydney, had a young family there and worked as a burns specialist at Westmead. There were, no doubt, some difficult questions he was here to ask. All she knew of Charlie’s past was what she had gleaned from Ivy’s letters, and his own letter now. Snippets only. Of drink and guilt, of a night that maybe not everyone survived. Whatever the past held, whatever James was here to discover, it was unlikely pleasant. But she would make it as easy as she could. Later, when everyone was gone and they were alone, she’d show him Charlie’s letter. A place to start.
‘So,’ Danny whispered in her ear. ‘James is going to stay with you for a bit?’
‘Yeah. He wants to learn everything he can about his father. It didn’t seem right him staying at The Royal. It is technically his house.’
‘Pretty good-looking.’ Danny glanced over at him.
‘Hadn’t noticed, really.’ Nicole couldn’t stop the cheeky grin that teased the corners of her mouth.
She had noticed, though. James looked a lot like Nicole might imagine Charlie had looked at the same age.
‘A bit old for me, though. He must be in his fifties. Turns out I like men born in the same decade as me.’
Danny blushed but held her gaze.
‘What time are you flying tomorrow?’ Jacqui leaned over and asked Danny.
‘The flight’s first thing. Actually, I should probably get going. Start the drive to Sydney and get to the airport motel before it gets too late.’ He shook the men’s hands and kissed Mandy, Cheryl and Jacqui on their cheeks.
Nicole walked him to the gate.
‘Have a safe trip.’ She took one step towards him. He didn’t step back.
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m going to miss you.’
He closed the gap between them. The hint of orange and cinnamon on his neck filled Nicole’s head with desire. He reached his arm behind her neck, pulling her into him, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Danny brushed her hair behind her ear and cupped her face in his strong hands.
He pressed his mouth to hers and she melted into him. The soft touch of his lips moved slowly at first and then quickened, opening her mouth further, his tongue searching for hers. She moaned softly. A tingle spread up her spine and her breath caught. He slowed his lips, releasing her mouth, taking it again.
‘Don’t forget, I’m coming back,’ Danny whispered.
‘I couldn’t possibly forget that.’
Thirty-nine
Nicole and James stood outside the boatshed.
‘You ready?’ she asked.
‘No. You?’ He smiled.
He held the old wooden door open.
Nicole hadn’t been able to bring herself to enter Charlie’s home after his death, but it seemed somehow fitting now with James beside her.
She’d shared everything she could with him over the past week. Everything she knew about Charlie from her own experience of him. Everything in Ivy’s letters. And he’d asked questions that she’d answered as best she could. He’d taken in everything she’d told him, and Nicole could tell he’d had trouble processing the information, forming it into a coherent picture of his father.
She’d enjoyed James’s quiet company. Enjoyed having someone to eat meals with, someone to talk to about Charlie and Ivy, both of whom she missed terribly.
On James’s second-last day at t
he cove, it was only right that they visit the boatshed together.
Dusty boxes crowded the entry and the two of them twisted to slip through the narrow gaps.
‘Does that say Ivy?’ James brushed decades of grime from the top of one of the cartons.
Nicole leaned forward.
The few times she’d been in when Charlie was sick, she hadn’t noticed anything other than Charlie.
‘Yeah. I think so.’
They looked at each box. ‘Ivy kitchen’, ‘Ivy books’, ‘Ivy linen’.
‘She must have left him all this, and he hung on to it.’ Nicole moved from cardboard relic to cardboard relic.
‘For a really long time.’ James whistled.
‘What do we do with it now?’
James shrugged.
‘You’re his son. It’s yours, I guess.’
‘But these are Ivy’s. I kind of feel it should all be yours.’
‘We don’t have to decide today.’ Nicole shook her head.
They moved further in, to where Charlie did his living. On the bed was the Scrabble box with a small piece of paper attached.
‘For Nicole’, it read. She turned the note over. ‘Now you’ll never beat me.’
She laughed out loud. ‘He was a formidable opponent, you know.’
‘Something we have in common, then.’
‘Really? Maybe we can play sometime.’
Underneath the Scrabble game was a well-read copy of Tide and Nicole let out a gasp. She opened the cover.
‘Don’t give up your day job.’ She read Charlie’s inscription to her, a tear sliding down her cheek.
James sat on the bed and comforted her with soft words. She looked up and saw the picture hanging above the bed.
‘Ivy.’ She nodded towards the beauty of her barefoot friend. ‘And look at that.’
She stood up. On the small table beside the bed was a tiny polished silver frame. A striking blonde girl with long curly hair and sad dark eyes sat with a young boy in her lap. Nicole didn’t remember seeing it the last time she was in here. Where had he been keeping it?
The Cottage at Rosella Cove Page 27
