‘Sorry.’ He made a motion of zipping his mouth, turning a key and then tossing it over his shoulder. Emily rolled her eyes at him.
‘I was over at the farm yesterday – John’s place. Barbara and I were cleaning the house up and going through the paperwork for his parents.’
‘That was awfully nice of you. Why would you…?’
‘Let me finish. When I was speaking to Thora the other day, she didn’t seem to know about our separation.’
‘You can’t be serious.’ He stared at his daughter with wide, disbelieving eyes. ‘How can she not have known?’
‘I have no idea, Dad.’
‘But the whole town…’
Emily held up a hand and shook her head. ‘It’s weird, I know. But it was pretty clear that she thought I was still living there. I don’t know whether she’s trying to ignore the truth like Mum, or if John didn’t tell her, or what. But I could hardly tell her she’d have to deal with her dead son’s effects, now could I? She would have wanted to know why, and it would have raised all sorts of questions. I decided I could at least help wind things up, tidy the house.’
Des looked doubtful. ‘Okay.’
‘Anyway, I was going through the paperwork in John’s office and I found our wills. He hadn’t changed his. It looks like I’m still the sole beneficiary of his estate.’ If there’s not another will. Emily ignored the nagging voice in her head.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Des asked.
‘Yes, totally, he hadn’t changed it. I’ve still got to find out – I’ll probably have to see a lawyer about it – but it looks like I’ll have enough money to be able to do the house up – properly – when the subdivision goes through and I actually own it.’
‘But won’t his parents object, contest it or something? I’m not sure how these things work.’
‘Well, as far as they’re concerned, we never split up.’
‘That may be so, but they are going to find out sooner or later. And I imagine they might be pretty upset. How much are we talking?’
‘Around two hundred grand once his bills have been paid.’ If it’s all above board. Emily wished her conscience would shut up and let her dream – at least for a while. ‘He must have changed his mind on buying the tractor, because there’s no record of the down payment. Or perhaps it was just a rumour after all.’
‘Bloody hell, Em. This all sounds terribly far-fetched.’ Des shook his head slowly before picking up his mug.
‘Doesn’t it just?’
They both sipped their coffees in silence until Des spoke a few moments later. ‘So then that would mean you now own the farm too,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘No, I’m pretty sure that’s owned by the family company, and kept by Gerard and Thora when John was bought out.’
‘I don’t think you have that right,’ Des said, his forehead creased. ‘Not unless things have changed. As far as I know, John inherited the farm when he was a kid – around twelve years old. Some kooky old uncle who wanted to stick it up the family, I believe.’
Emily’s mouth dropped open and she stared at her father as he continued.
‘His parents were livid – Gerald had assumed it would just go to him. And of course the irony was that he had to run it because John was still at school. Just goes to show that one should never assume.’
Hmm.
‘So do you seriously think the farm has been in John’s name all these years? Why wouldn’t he have told me?’
‘Did you ever ask who owned it?’
‘No, I just assumed…’
‘Ah, see, there we go again – assumptions. And he probably assumed you knew, or that it didn’t warrant mentioning. Really, why would it?’
‘So why wouldn’t Thora and Gerald have told me?’
‘That little word again, Em. They probably assumed you knew.’
‘So how do I find out for sure – without actually asking them?’
‘You didn’t find title deeds then?’
‘No.’
‘Probably in a bank vault somewhere.’
‘Oh God, they could be anywhere.’
‘Does the family have a particular firm of solicitors they use?’
‘Yes, they’re in Adelaide – they did our wills. Thora did say they would handle the death certificate and not to worry about that side of things.’
‘Ah, well, in that case it’s all sorted. They’ll be in touch. Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll be notified in due course. Meanwhile, what have you got planned for your birthday?’ Des asked, clearly signalling the end of the discussion.
But Emily’s mind was still on the farm.
‘Em?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Your birthday. What have you got planned?’
‘Just dinner with Barbara and David tonight. I’m sorry I upset Mum, but it’s been such a crazy time…’
‘No need to apologise. It’s your birthday to spend as and with whom you wish.’
‘Thanks Dad.’
‘So Mum isn’t sulking is she?’
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Well, she didn’t come out with you.’
‘She had an early lunch out – some last-minute thing – and is now most likely back at home busily cooking jam for the local show. Seems like she’s taken a leaf out of your book.’
‘But she’s never…’
‘I know. I don’t know what’s got into her lately. All these new hobbies. Anyway, I’ve been deputised,’ he added, puffing out his chest and pretending to pluck at imaginary braces. ‘But I thought you’d have spoken to her by now. I’m sure I heard her leaving a message earlier this morning.’
‘Oh.’ It must have been while she was out on her walk. Emily hadn’t noticed a message when Jake rang. All of a sudden she was annoyed at herself for being so petty, and for getting things so clearly wrong. She forced the thoughts aside.
‘Dad, what the hell will I do with a farm?’
‘Sell it, lease it out, I don’t know. You could become a farmer,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Don’t worry about it until you know for sure – the solicitors should let you know in writing if…’
‘I suppose so,’ she replied.
With solicitors in charge it could take months. She hoped she hadn’t jinxed things by jumping the gun and telling Jake and Barbara how much money she’d inherited. Well, how much she might have inherited. She’d better not tell anyone else. And she’d better not say anything about the farm just yet.
‘Dad, probably best not to tell anyone about this; don’t want to count my chickens and all that.’ Little bit late for that, don’t you think?
‘Fair enough. My lips are sealed.’ He started to mime zipping them again but stopped. ‘But I can’t exactly not tell your mother,’ he said with an apologetic grimace.
‘Okay, but make sure it goes no further. God, she’ll be ropable when she finds out how much I’m going to spend on this place.’
‘It’s your life, dear. She knows that. Just doesn’t always accept it. Well, I’d better be off. You have a great night and a happy New Year’s Eve.’
‘Thanks. You too.’
Chapter Twenty-six
‘Birthday girl, come on in, come on in!’ Barbara cried, as she flung the front door wide. They hugged tightly before breaking away. Emily then accepted David’s hug and peck on the cheek.
‘Happy birthday, Em.’
‘Thanks David,’ she said, making her way down the hall towards the Burtons’ kitchen. She really was so blessed to have friends like Barbara and David. She felt as comfortable and welcome here as she did in her own house.
‘Hold on,’ Barbara said, grabbing her elbow from behind as she was about to pass the dining room. ‘We’ve decided to go all posh on you tonight – crystal, silver, Wedgwood, the whole bit. Packing up everything at the farm the other day got me all inspired.’
‘Ooh, what fun! But you should have told me; I’d ’ave worn me taffeta,’ Emily said, smiling and putting on a b
road Cockney accent.
‘Oh come now darling, not taffeta posh,’ Barbara replied, in a very toffy English accent.
Emily loved it when they played around and did silly voices. She paused in the dining-room doorway, looking over the fully set table. Cut crystal wine and water glasses sparkled and silver cutlery shone in the flickering light of the silver candelabra’s three candles. The scene was so overwhelming she forgot about her accent. ‘Barb, this looks great. You’ve gone to so much trouble.’
‘Ah not with the food, darling – peasant fare tonight I’m afraid; we can only do so much.’
Emily bit her bottom lip to stop herself from exploding into laughter. ‘Was that pheasant fare, pleasant fare or peasant fare you said?’ she asked, continuing their charade.
‘Oh God, not you too,’ David said, rolling his eyes. ‘I’ve had this one pretending to be posh all afternoon.’ But he was unable to hide his grin. ‘I’ll get the champagne.’
‘Strawberries; don’t forget the strawberries,’ Emily and Barbara both called at the same time, still in their respective put-on accents. They looked at each other and burst into uproarious laughter. Tears were streaming down their faces and they were both standing with one hand on the polished back of a dining chair and holding their stomachs with the other when David returned.
‘Your drinks, my ladies,’ David said, bowing and adopting a plum inflection of his own.
‘What fun,’ Emily said. ‘We should do this more often.’
‘No thanks, it took me ages to polish the silver,’ David said, pouting. They both waved his objection away.
‘Well, we can do it at my house now I’ve got all the good stuff. David, you’d be butler, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yeah, sure, why not? There we are,’ he said, carefully extracting the cork with a satisfying pop. He poured three tall glasses of sparkling white wine.
‘It’s a pity Jake couldn’t be here,’ Barbara said. ‘He would have fitted in with our silliness rather well I think.’
‘Did you invite him?’ Emily asked, accepting a glass from David. She had the uneasy feeling that she was the last to know something that was about her.
‘Of course. Cheers,’ Barbara said, raising her bubbly and ignoring Emily’s frown.
‘Happy birthday, Em.’ All three clinked glasses, muttered ‘Cheers,’ and took their first sips.
‘Yum,’ Emily said. And then she added, ‘You didn’t tell him it was my birthday, did you?’
‘Well, I was trying to convince him to come. Not that it mattered in the end; he couldn’t make it,’ Barbara said, flapping a dismissive hand. Emily thought her friend was looking a little flustered.
‘Is he still in Whyalla or did he go back to Melbourne?’
‘Dinner with a client – no idea where that might be,’ David said quickly.
‘Oh well, he is very busy. And he was just down here,’ Emily said, trying to hide her disappointment and the uneasy feeling that was becoming stronger. He didn’t even wish me a happy birthday when he phoned.
‘But he did send a present,’ Barbara said, putting her glass down on the table and crossing to the sideboard, where Emily now noticed a long skinny box adorned with a purple ribbon and bow. Barbara picked it up in both hands and held it out to Emily.
What? Wow! But oh God, now I’m going to have to reciprocate, and I don’t even know when his birthday is… This is why there should be a blanket rule of no exchanging gifts after people turn eighteen.
David pulled out a chair from one end of the table and indicated for her to sit. Emily concentrated on untying the bow holding the lid on the box.
Putting aside her issues over gifts, Emily allowed herself to be genuinely excited. It really was lovely of Jake to have sent her something. There was nothing like an unexpected present from someone who clearly had good taste.
Inside the box was a large postal tube. Shooting Barbara and David a quizzical glance, she lifted it out, pulled a red plastic stopper from one end, and extracted a roll of stiff paper. There were five separate sheets in all, though she had trouble keeping track because they kept rolling back into themselves. Her breath caught as she realised exactly what Jake had sent.
‘Oh wow,’ she said. ‘He’s done plans for the house – proper plans; with measurements and everything.’ She put her hand to her now burning cheeks and instantly the unfurled pages sprang back together again. She stood up and stared at the roll, feeling a little overwhelmed at Jake’s generosity and thoughtfulness. David reached around her and secured the corners with four heavy silver coasters from the other end of the table.
David and Barbara stood either side of Emily as she slowly and carefully perused each sheet, placing a hand here and there to hold down the pages as she repositioned the paperweights.
The first sheet was a floor plan, and it took Emily a few moments to ascertain which was the front and which was the back of the house. The plans were for the option of creating three bedrooms with ensuites – turning the house into a B&B – that he’d mentioned Christmas night when doing his rough sketches. The following four sheets showed the outside of the house from each side. Jake – well, she assumed this was Jake’s work, though where he had found the time she had no idea; he’d only been gone four days – had even taken the trouble to add touches of colour. How lovely of him to do this for her…
Suddenly Emily was gripped with worry; he’d almost certainly expect her to engage him as architect now he’d put this much effort in. And she’d seen his work on his website; it looked very expensive – way out of her league. He’d won major awards for goodness sake. But how could she turn him down now?
Another thought struck her; was this actually a birthday present at all? Barbara had said it was, but maybe she’d just assumed. It had been wrapped in a ribbon, but there didn’t seem to be a card. And if Barbara was right, why hadn’t Jake mentioned her birthday when he’d called that morning?
Perhaps this was his response to the news of her possible inheritance and that she’d be able to do up the old place after all. Maybe this was his way of getting in first to stake his claim for the business. She really should have kept her mouth shut.
She hated to think that the kind, gentle, seemingly genuine man she had shared her house with on two occasions could be so calculating. But then she’d been taken in by John all those years ago.
A new thought popped into her brain; why had he sent the plans to Barbara and David and not her? That was a bit odd. At that moment David and Barbara’s home phone began to ring. Emily checked her watch; it could only be telemarketers calling so close to the dinner hour.
David answered the phone and handed the portable handset to her.
‘It’s for you.’
Emily accepted it with a puzzled frown.
‘Hello, Emily speaking,’ she said, a little tentatively.
‘Hi Em, it’s Jake. Happy birthday! Did you get my present?’
Emily was opening and closing her mouth as the polite interval in which to answer slowly evaporated.
‘Hello? Are you there?’
She finally found her voice.
‘It’s so lovely of you to call – and to send the plans. We’re looking at them right now; they’re lovely, thank you,’ she finally blurted.
‘My pleasure. I’m so disappointed I couldn’t be there to help you celebrate.’
‘Where are you?’
‘About to go into dinner with a client.’
‘But it’s New Year’s Eve!’
‘Well, you know what they say – no rest for the wicked,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I really wish I could have been there with you guys.’
Emily looked from Barbara to David. Both her friends grinned back, and looked to be very pleased with themselves.
‘That’s okay, it’s not exactly a milestone or anything.’
‘Oh come on, every birthday is worth celebrating. Maybe next year.’
I’d like that. But Emily didn’t have time to dwell.
> ‘The reason I called – aside from wishing you a happy birthday – is to make sure you understand the plans. Well, not the plans themselves – I’m sure you can work them out – but the meaning behind them. I don’t for a second want you to think this is any more than a gesture on my part – a gift. You shouldn’t feel bound to accept any help from me in a business capacity…’
Suddenly he stopped.
‘Oh listen to me rambling on like a lunatic. I’m just trying to say that I don’t want you feeling obligated to me in any way.’
At that moment Emily realised that she’d very much like to be obligated to him – and in every way. The suddenness and forcefulness of the thought crashed through her and made her blush deeply.
‘And, for the record, the plans have nothing to do with our conversation about your inheritance this morning – or the diamonds – so please don’t think this some kind of strategic business move or anything. I’ve actually been thinking about doing them since that first weekend when Elizabeth and I visited.’
Before I even had an inkling the place could be mine, Emily thought.
‘I always thought the place was lovely and had great potential. And after our conversation on Christmas Day I decided to draw them up properly.’
Time was weird; it felt like finding out she could buy the house had happened both yesterday and months or even a year ago – just like leaving John, his death, and everything else that had happened. But all these things had been stuffed into only a little over six weeks. Mind-blowing really. She shook her head and refocused on Jake just as he finished speaking.
‘Okay?’
‘Thanks, I understand what you’re saying.’
‘That said,’ he added, ‘I would love to be involved in the project – as project manager maybe?’
‘I’d love that, but I don’t think I could ever afford you, Jake. I’ve seen your website,’ Emily said, and then added a laugh to soften her comment.
‘That’s just the power of marketing, my dear. I’m sure we can come to some mutually rewarding arrangement. Now I must let you go and get on with your dinner. Sorry to keep you; I just wanted to call and clarify things. Happy birthday again. Sorry I didn’t mention it when I rang earlier, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.’
Time Will Tell Page 18
