Time Will Tell

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Haven’t by any chance changed your mind on having me move in?’ he said jovially.

  Emily cringed at his choice of words. Great! Three heads were visible behind the long counter. They would now most likely think she and Nathan were an item. ‘And so soon after her husband’s death too.’ She could almost feel the air crackling with gossip.

  Nathan saw the emotions cross her face. He instantly became professional. ‘I take it this isn’t a personal visit.’

  ‘Sorry, no. Actually I’m in need of… I’m my…’ estranged, now dead husband’s? No, ‘…late husband’s executor and I need to be added as a signatory to his accounts. I have all the paperwork here – well, hopefully everything I need.’

  ‘Gosh! I don’t know what to say. What a strange situation to find yourself in. I heard that he’d died. Sorry for your loss, though I’m not sure in the circumstances… I didn’t manage to get along to the funeral. How was it?’

  ‘Hard. Weird,’ she said, shrugging.

  ‘Sorry, that was dumb of me to say. And I’m sorry for not calling. I should have…’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. Seriously. What is there to say? As you rightly point out, I find myself in a very strange situation.’

  ‘Well, I can certainly help you with sorting out some banking details. Come on in.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Take a seat.’

  Emily was both relieved and disappointed when he closed the glass door behind them. What would everyone think now? But at least their conversation would be private. Well, unless Sam or one of the other two could read lips.

  ‘Right, what paperwork do you have?’

  Thankfully Nathan had access to everything they needed on the computer screen at his desk. Soon she was signing the forms he printed from the small printer nearby. He stepped out to take a copy of the law firm’s correspondence for their records.

  While he was gone, Emily glanced around his office. There were no personal items, nothing to tell her more about him, but she wasn’t surprised. He wouldn’t have had much of a chance to settle in with all the recent public holidays.

  ‘Right. That’s all done. Is there anything else I can help you with today?’ Nathan said, as he re-entered, closed the door, handed her back her paperwork, and sat down behind his desk.

  ‘No, I think that’s all. Thanks very much. Now I can start getting some bills paid and some order into the…’ Shut up Emily, you’re rambling. ‘Oh, never mind,’ she muttered as she gathered her things and stood up.

  ‘Hang on, before you go.’

  Emily sat back down on the edge of the chair with her papers and handbag on her lap. ‘Yes?’

  ‘What, no friendly chitchat? Just business?’

  ‘Oh, well, I’m sure you’re very busy,’ she said lamely.

  ‘Do I look busy?’ he said, sweeping an arm across his desk, which had almost nothing on its polished faux-wood surface. And the stack of aluminium document trays weren’t exactly overflowing.

  She settled back into her chair a little. ‘So, how are you settling in?’

  ‘How do you think? Thanks to you not wanting me, I’m back living with my parents.’ He paused, and Emily tried to read his face. Then he smiled. ‘I’m only teasing. Lighten up.’

  She tried to keep her expression neutral.

  My husband has died – the husband I left – and now my landlords are dead as well, and I’ve just been turfed out of my new house, only to end up back at the farm I… Excuse me if I’m a little serious, but my life’s not exactly a barrel of laughs at the moment. She opened her mouth to say as much, but Nathan got in first.

  ‘Okay, that wasn’t fair,’ he said, holding up his hands in surrender. Sorry. You’ve clearly got a lot going on. Speaking of which… What are you going to do with your husband’s place? Are you looking for a tenant?’

  Emily only just managed to stop herself laughing out loud, but couldn’t stop the wry smile that quickly spread across her face.

  ‘What. What’s so funny?’

  Emily rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly.

  ‘You haven’t heard? I’ve had to move back there. The brothers who owned the house died…’

  ‘God, people are dropping like flies around here. But hang on, weren’t you meant to be buying that place? Don’t you have an agreement?’

  ‘Apparently not worth the paper it’s written on. The old brothers didn’t change their wills, and I was an idiot and didn’t get proper paperwork drawn up. I was waiting until the subdivision was done. Their cousin, who also happens to be their executor and beneficiary, turned up and turfed me out. She’s putting the whole farm on the market. I moved yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, well, apparently it wasn’t meant to be. She doesn’t like me.’

  ‘Are you going to try and fight her? At least look into where you stand legally?’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t have the energy. And, really, it’s my own fault it all fell apart.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. Maybe you’re right and it just wasn’t meant to be. So why do you think the niece doesn’t like you.’

  ‘Because she told me.’

  ‘But what’s not to like?’

  Emily rolled her eyes at him, but blushed despite her best efforts.

  ‘Seriously, why?’

  ‘No idea.’

  Nathan gave up. ‘Well, I really am sorry to hear about your husband. Sounds like he’s left you in a bit of a mess.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

  ‘If you need any help, you know where I am,’ he said, smiling warmly.

  ‘And I’ll keep my ear out for accommodation,’ she said, getting up.

  ‘Thanks, I’d appreciate it. This living with the parents isn’t quite, well, you know.’

  ‘When I get settled I’ll have you out for dinner – get you away from them for a night.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ he said, his whole face lighting up.

  ‘Just friends,’ she added, feeling the need to keep things clear.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, I’d better get going.’

  Emily stepped out of his office into a bank full of people. All three tellers were serving and three people stood behind each counter waiting to be served. And of course they all turned and looked just as Nathan embraced her and kissed her on the cheek. Brilliant, just bloody brilliant!

  She blushed another shade darker when he called out to her as she moved towards the door.

  ‘See you soon.’

  Emily noticed raised eyebrows being exchanged and heard an ‘ooh, did you hear that’ stage whisper and a few other muttered comments as she fled.

  Next she braved the newsagent. Thankfully those who usually congregated out front to chat had already left and she only had Bev behind the counter to contend with. She had picked up the paper and was looking through the public notices at the announcement of the Bakers’ funeral – Saturday morning – when the news-agent cleared her throat loudly.

  ‘I hear you’re living back at the Stratten place,’ she said.

  Emily nodded, then looked up, held her gaze and said, ‘Yes, that’s right,’ her steely look offering the unspoken question, ‘And what of it?’

  ‘Such a tragedy. Sorry for your loss,’ she replied, her words becoming quieter and quieter.

  ‘Thank you,’ Emily said as she handed over some coins and tucked the paper under her arm. ‘Have a great day,’ she said cheerily and turned around to leave.

  Three people had come in after her and she heard one of them hiss, ‘She got everything, you know.’ Emily heard more whispering behind her as she left.

  She collapsed into the driver’s seat of her car. The groceries would have to wait. There was long-life milk in the cupboard if necessary and there was plenty of food for Grace. She’d deal with the supermarket another day.

  Chapter Forty-one

  It took Emily the rest of Thursday afternoon and lat
e into the night to get everything unpacked and into position. On Friday she woke with a sense of enthusiasm. She was aching all over but pleased that she’d got it all done. And sorting out the bank stuff was a huge weight off her mind. It meant that the day was her own, to do with as she wished. She’d start with getting some fresh air and stretching her legs. Last night’s forecast had been for a pleasant twenty-five degrees. Perfect.

  She got up and pulled the curtains back, and stood there in her light summer pyjamas. She frowned at the pile of rubble from the cottage and the ugly steel structure in front of it – a blight on the gorgeous landscape.

  She folded her arms on the top of the oak tallboy and moved her gaze back inside to the button jar beside her with its kaleidoscope of colour.

  She took a deep breath. Thankfully she no longer had the cloud of financial worry hanging over her – the pressure of having to make decisions quickly. Once everything was sorted out, it looked like she’d be set for life if she was careful. That was a huge relief. And, she reluctantly conceded, all thanks to John. But idleness just wasn’t in her make-up. Gran used to live by the saying, ‘I’d rather wear out than rust out.’ Emily was the same way; couldn’t do nothing for too long. She had to do something. But what?

  She picked up the jar and rattled it, smiling at the comforting sound. She looked hard for one of the diamonds, but none were to be seen. Thank God she hadn’t had to part with them. Just knowing they were there had been a source of comfort. Is that what had got Gran through all the droughts, loss of crops, through frosts, flooding, and locusts? Had Grandpa ever known?

  Feeling the frustration growing, Emily put the jar back down. She’d never know the answers; she should just stop wondering.

  ‘Come on Gracie, let’s go for a walk.’

  She got dressed and left the house. They paused before crossing the road, Emily smiling at Grace sitting and looking both ways before bounding off and disappearing from sight. She followed the dog towards the steel monstrosity and the ruin beyond it. The pain of seeing the remains of the stone cottage had eased. It had started to the day she’d shown Jake and he’d said it could be rebuilt. She doubted she would ever do it, but it did provide a bit of comfort knowing it was possible.

  Oh Jake. It had been almost a week and her heart still pulled every time she thought about him. But the feeling obviously wasn’t reciprocated. He still hadn’t called.

  ‘Oh well, they say time heals all wounds,’ she said aloud with a deep sigh as she opened the steel gate and stepped through. She really would have to at least phone his company sometime and let them know the project was off. No, she corrected, she’d have to phone him. As hard as it would be, the closure would probably be a good thing.

  She scowled at the steel structure as she approached it. That’s what she would do today; start taking it down. She could get the front-end loader out – it couldn’t be that hard to drive and operate the bucket on the front, could it? The frame looked just like a giant meccano project – how hard could it be to take apart? Her eyes travelled downwards and settled on the uprights disappearing into the concrete footings.

  She nibbled at her lip. If she could get everything down there would still be four uprights. She’d need a jackhammer for the concrete, and she was pretty sure John hadn’t had one of those in the shed. She looked back up and sighed again. It was awfully high – would the front-end loader’s bucket go that high? Could she go that high? She could at least try.

  ‘Come on Gracie,’ she called. The dog paused in her snuffling and looked at her with head cocked to one side as if to say, ‘But we just got here, I’m not finished.’

  Emily started walking back. Grace would catch up, she always did; didn’t like being apart from her mistress for too long.

  Back at the house, Emily shut Grace in the yard, much to the dog’s disappointment.

  ‘For your own safety. Don’t want you getting squashed under a wheel,’ she said, as she walked away.

  Emily climbed up into the smaller of the green tractors, the front-end loader. Her heart was racing a little with excitement.

  Yes, I can do this.

  She settled into the seat and looked around her. God, it wasn’t like a car at all. There was a key to turn it on, a panel of instruments up front, and clutch and brake pedals on the floor. But that was where the similarities ended. To her right were a number of levers, some with numbers and some without. Nothing was familiar. She couldn’t even tell which were for driving the tractor and which were for working the bucket out the front. She cursed herself for not taking more notice when riding with John.

  When they had first started going out, she’d spent hours perched on the arm of his tractor seat as he worked the land. It was so satisfying to start at the fence and watch the paddock slowly changing, lap by lap, until the point where the corners were all that were left and the tractor would be driven out across them – the headlands they were called – signalling the end.

  Seeding had been one of her favourite things about living on the farm. She loved the hum of tractors in the distance in winter, barely detectible in the cold, still night air, the lights dotted about as far as the eye could see. She especially enjoyed seeing the change of colour of the earth to rich dark chocolate as the machine passed over it, the small, even mounds and furrows and the deep, fresh, earthy scent.

  The hours of tractor driving had been considerably shortened now they sowed directly rather than ripping up and working back as they used to. These days it was all about keeping the soil as healthy as possible and not overworking it. It made sense; farming was really just gardening on a huge scale, and it was important to keep a good layer of mulch – the previous year’s stubble – to add nutrients to the soil and help keep the moisture in.

  Could she learn how to be a farmer and run it on her own? It wasn’t like you needed brute strength. There were so many machines to do the heavy work. Hmm. Maybe if someone taught her how to drive one of these bloody things! And she took some bloody notice!

  She reluctantly got out, slammed the door shut, and climbed back down.

  Emily frowned and looked around the shed for another option. She spotted a collection of ladders leaning against the wall. She opened the boot of the car and slid the longest ladder into it. Quite a bit hung out, but if she drove carefully, and hoped the boot didn’t try and close on it, she’d get it over there. Next she searched the workshop for two large shifting spanners and some rigger’s gloves. Feeling better, she got in the car and drove carefully across to the steel structure. She sat for a few moments looking up. It was very high. Should she be doing this? Yes. She was sick of feeling useless when it came to this farm. She’d at least give it a damn good shot.

  Emily unfolded the ladder to its full length and leant it against the nearest upright. God, it was higher than she’d thought. Stop being a scaredy cat.

  She forced herself to keep looking up to keep the fear of heights at bay. Once at the top, she realised there was a bit of a gap between where the ladder ended and where she needed to be. I can do this, she told herself as she stretched across to a beam. Once up, she took a brief look down. Her stomach lurched. Too high. Maybe she’d better go back down. No, not before at least trying.

  She patted her pockets and realised she’d left both spanners hanging on the hook on the ladder. She’d totally forgotten to bring them up with her. Damn it! She sighed with exasperation and started to look at where to put her feet to get down.

  It was a long way just to the ladder. I don’t think I can do it. The realisation seeped in slowly. Fear gripped her, and then her heart began to race. Jesus, she was stuck up here. No. You got up here, you can get down. But the ladder was so far away and there was such a small space to put her feet. And it would be out of sight when she tried. Shit! Right, just calm down. You’re safe here, just sit for a bit and think.

  From her perch atop the frame, Emily looked across at the rubble of the cottage. Where would one start rebuilding it? She wished she’d as
ked Jake more questions that day. Could she ask him now? Could that be her way back to him? Hmm.

  Yes, damn it, she would call him. As soon as I get down from here. It would be difficult, but not as hard as leaving John.

  And then I’ll phone Barbara. Enough is enough.

  Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

  When she looked across to her left, Emily saw a white ute with a rotating orange light flashing on top and hazard lights blinking. Behind it, a green tractor was turning the corner. The two vehicles were about a kilometre away. Someone was moving machinery. The big yellow tank behind the tractor was a boom sprayer. That was the trouble with a good burst of summer rain; a mass of weeds sprang up and then had to be sprayed.

  She waved one arm while holding on tightly with the other. She could only hope whoever it was would look at the steel structure and marvel at its ugliness long enough to see her sitting up there.

  ‘Here! Over here!’ she yelled.

  They can’t hear you, they’re miles away and in cabins with the radio most likely blaring. Idiot.

  Emily thought about taking off her top to wave, but didn’t want to let go with both hands. Oh God, what was she going to do? There might not be another vehicle along this road for days.

  She watched the ute and tractor make their way slowly towards her. She waved frantically until her arms were too tired. Tears threatened as she imagined being stuck there all night.

  Suddenly the tractor turned in towards the house. David?! That meant Barbara was most likely driving the ute as escort. She could hear the throaty diesel engine idling nearby. He’d stopped by the house. Turn off the engine so you can hear me!

  ‘Help! Over here! Help!’ Tears began to fall. The frustration was killing her. She looked down at the ladder. She had to do it. She just had to. But it was such a long way down.

  There was a change in noise as the tractor was turned off.

  ‘Help!’ she yelled again, but the ute was still idling; there was still too much noise. She thought she could hear Grace barking, but that could have been her brain playing tricks on her. She was finding it more and more difficult to stay calm. She had to get David or Barbara’s attention before they went down into the paddock, or left altogether. She focused on breathing in and out slowly.