by Lilly Mirren
When Kate woke, there was a note slipped under the door.
Marco called.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pulled on a dressing gown, and padded down the stairs, still yawning.
What could her boss want? They must need her feedback on something, or more likely he was calling to order her to come back to Brisbane. She was already planning her return, but she hadn’t had the heart to tell Bindi or Reeda yet.
For some reason, Reeda didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go back to Sydney, like she usually would, something neither Kate nor Bindi had thought she’d do. They’d both discussed it — she wasn’t one to open up about her feelings, so maybe she needed them. They should both try to be there for her, she’d always done the same for them when they were younger. She’d been like a mother to them when they’d lost their own.
In the office, Kate slumped into the desk chair and dialled Marco’s number. He answered right away, which was unlike him and took her by surprise.
“Oh, Marco — it’s Kate. I’m returning your call. How are you?”
“Kate, good to hear from you. Thanks for calling me back. I wanted you to hear it first from me before the grapevine got back to you somehow — I’ve hired a head chef for the restaurant.”
Her stomach clenched. “Okay. You mean, a temporary head chef?”
“No, I’m sorry Kate. This guy is amazing, and he was looking for a position. I had to snap him up while I had the chance. And you’re busy, down south, doing family things. It’ll be good for both of us — you get some time off and I get someone to run my kitchen.”
She shook her head, dispelling any sleepiness that remained. “You’ve replaced me already?”
“Things move fast in the restaurant business, Kate. If you don’t act, you miss out. I’ve wanted this guy for years, but he was tied up in another contract. Now’s my chance to bring him in and I’m not going to miss it. I’m sorry, but I know you’ll find something great.”
She grunted. There were no words.
“Anyway, I’ve got a ton of work to do, so I’ll have to talk to you some other time. All the best, Kate. Bye.”
She hung up the phone, then sat staring at it for a full minute before she moved.
Marco had always been a callous boss, but this took it to a new level. Her grandmother had died, and he’d replaced her before she even got back from the funeral. It didn’t seem possible he could’ve topped the time he called her back from a vacation to fill in for him so he could get plastic surgery for the little crinkles around his eyes that made him look like an old fogey — in his own words. She hadn’t believed he could be more thoughtless than that, but he’d proven her wrong.
She hugged herself as she stood, still coming to terms with the fact that she was now officially unemployed.
Well, one thing he’d said was right — this would give her the chance to spend more time with family. She could stay longer at the Waratah now, get to know her sisters again, rest and relax. She hadn’t done that in a long time, she needed the break. And it was true, she’d be able to land another job without too much trouble — restaurants contacted her regularly, offering her signing bonuses and higher salaries to ditch Marco and come work for them. Well, now she could take up one of those offers, and she could leave that heartless jerk in her dust.
13
September 1995
Cabarita
The pancake sizzled in the butter. Kate slid a spatula beneath it and flipped it over, revealing a golden-brown underside. Her stomach grumbled and she patted it with her free hand, wondering when it’d gotten so soft. She must’ve gained weight since she arrived at the inn three weeks earlier. If she had, she wasn’t surprised. Mima fed them all like they were starving and destitute, in need of fattening up.
“That looks delicious,” said Mima, peering over her shoulder.
“I’m so hungry, although I shouldn't be after the braised lamb shanks and mash you fed us last night. That was amazing by the way. I could’ve eaten thirds, except my stomach would’ve burst,” said Kate.
“Glad you enjoyed it, love. For a chef, it seems to me, you don’t eat well enough. You’re all skin and bones, and no one trusts a skinny chef.” Mima laughed at her own joke as she whipped a bowl of eggs with a whisk.
Reeda wandered into the room, her slippers sliding against the floor with each dragging footstep. She yawned and fell into a chair at the dining table.
“Good morning,” she said, with another wide yawn.
Her brown hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and one side of her face held the imprint of a wrinkled sheet.
Kate grinned as she flipped another pancake. “Good morning, sunshine. You had a nice sleep in.”
“What are you doing up so early, and so… chipper?” asked Reeda with a groan.
“I slept the sleep of the dead last night. In fact, I think I slept the entire afternoon and all night long. And I barely moved. Of course, my entire body is stiff and sore from surfing yesterday. Did I tell you I crashed into the rocks at Nan’s beach?”
Reeda’s eyes widened. “What? Are you hurt?”
“Just a few scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, Alex was there to help.”
“Was he just?” Reeda winked, her lips pulling into a grin.
“Nothing like that,” objected Kate, her cheeks already flushing with warmth. “He was kind and considerate and helped me back to my car.”
“I’m sure he did.” Reeda’s voice dripped with innuendo.
“Oh, and my boss called me early this morning to fire me… so there’s that as well.”
Reeda’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Yep. He’s a real treat, that Marco.” Kate shook her head. “Anyway, I’m over it. I’m not going to get worked up over a job that… let’s face it… I secretly hated. He never appreciated me or gave me opportunities to grow. It was a dead end, and I can’t believe it took me this long to realise that. I wasted so many years on his stupid restaurant…”
“Not wasted,” replied Reeda. “The way I see it, it was a learning experience.”
“Well, I sure learned a lot,” smirked Kate.
Reeda chuckled. “Good for you. On to bigger and better things then. Eh?”
“So, what are your plans for the day?” asked Kate, ready to change the subject.
“I meant to tell you last night, but you were already in bed — I found Nan’s solicitor.”
Kate slid a pancake onto a plate that held a stack of the golden discs.
“Really? That’s great news.”
“So, the three of us have an appointment to see him later today.”
“Great.” Kate’s gut twisted with nerves. What if things didn’t go the way they hoped? What if Nan had decided to gift the inn to a charity, or a nursing home? Knowing Nan, anything was possible. The idea of seeing the solicitor and hearing Nan’s final wishes meant that soon everything would be finished, done. She could return to Brisbane, pick up her life where she’d left it, and everything would go back to normal. Only, she wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted any longer. She didn’t know what she wanted, all she knew was that she felt better than she had in a long time, and she didn’t want to say goodbye, to the inn, to Mima and Jack, to her sisters, or to Nan.
The receptionist shot them a smile, then returned her attention to the computer screen in front of her. The phone rang, and she answered it in a sing-song voice.
“Daley, Johns, and Hathaway Solicitors, how can I help you?”
Kate exchanged a glance with Bindi, who was fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
“You don’t think Nan would’ve done something crazy, like give the inn away to someone else, do you?” asked Bindi in a whisper.
Kate shook her head. “No, of course not.” She wasn’t sure about that, but didn’t want to worry Bindi, who looked as though she might throw up at any moment.
“Is there something bothering you? Everything okay?” asked Kate.
Bindi shrugged,
her eyes wide. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Kate was about to ask another question when a man stepped into the reception area, wearing a blue button-down shirt and navy pinstripe slacks.
“Reeda Houston?” he asked.
Reeda raised her hand.
He shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“These are my sisters, Kate and Bindi Summer,” said Reeda, waving her hand in their direction.
They each shook hands with the solicitor, who introduced himself as Bill Daley. He led them into his office and offered them seats opposite him.
“Thank you for coming in, ladies. I was sorry to hear that Edith passed. She was a wonderful woman and made me a batch of delicious scones the last time we met.”
Kate smiled, then scanned the room, taking in the plaques and certificates hung on the wall, photographs of Bill and various other people she didn’t recognise.
Nerves squirmed in her gut. What would they do if Nan didn’t leave them the Waratah? What would they do if she did? Kate didn’t have the money to invest into fixing the place up, and likely they wouldn’t get much for it if they sold it as it was. And what would Jack and Mima do then?
“So, let’s get started.” Bill rifled through a pile of papers on his desk and set a pair of half-moon reading glasses on the end of his round nose. “It won’t take long, since Edith’s final wishes are relatively straightforward.” Bill cleared his throat. “We’re here to read Edith Summer’s final will and testament. Reading of the will is not standard practice, but I’m happy to do it when requested. And in this case, I received a call from Nyreeda Houston, asking that the will be shared with the three of you, so you could learn its contents at the same time.” He cleared his throat with a cough.
Kate nodded. Bindi tugged at the hem of her skirt and Reeda chewed on her lower lip. They looked even more nervous than she felt.
The list of Nan’s assets began with the small items around the inn, including the contents of a storage locker to be found somewhere beneath the building that apparently contained stamp and coin collections gathered by Pop over the years. Nan bequeathed a few pieces of art to Mima, along with some of her handmade quilts and cookbooks. To Jack, she left his cottage, along with the acre of land around it, which she’d apparently already transferred into his name through the official council channels.
Kate remembered her curiosity over the place. Now it belonged to Jack, perhaps she could suggest they meet for a cup of tea and she could finally discover where it was on the heavily overgrown ten-acre property.
Her mind wandered back to the day her parents died and Nan became both father and mother to her. She was fifteen years old, and they’d flown up from Sydney to allow Reeda to attend a dance eisteddfod in Brisbane. It wasn’t as big an event or as prestigious as the competitions in Sydney or Melbourne, but some of her friends had signed up to go and she’d begged their parents to let her as well. Finally, they’d agreed, and decided the family could all stay at the inn and turn the trip into a holiday, a visit with Nan.
Kate had wanted to go to the eisteddfod as well, but Bindi wasn’t feeling well and had cried, asking for Kate to stay back at the inn with her and watch a video instead. With a roll of her eyes, Kate had agreed. And besides, her parents had reminded her, the competition would run late, and with the three-hour drive south afterward, it’d be a very late night for her. She should stay back with Bindi, they could spend some time with Nan and Mima, and get to bed early so they could all enjoy themselves together at the beach the next day.
She’d agreed with a huff, never able to say no to her younger sister, especially when her eyes glimmered with tears. So, it was set, that Mum, Dad, and Reeda would go to Brisbane in the hire car and be back around midnight.
She, Nan, and Bindi had gone fishing together in the cove, then cooked the fish with plenty of lemon, salt, and laughter before sitting around a fire pit and sharing scary stories as the sun set over the horizon. When she and Bindi went to bed at ten o’clock, she’d stared out the front window of the inn, hoping to see their car, to find that they’d returned early, but there was nothing there.
It wasn’t until three a.m., when she was woken by blue flashing lights that illuminated the entire inn and pulsed across the bedroom wall, that she knew something was wrong. She stumbled down the stairs, bleary eyed, to find Nan crumpled on the floor by the front door, a policewoman, in uniform, kneeling beside her, one hand on Nan’s back.
Her throat had constricted then, Nan never fell apart. Not when Pop died of a heart attack in his armchair while he was taking an afternoon nap. Whatever had happened, it must’ve been bad.
The sound of her name pulled her back from her reverie and she blinked away the tears that’d filled her eyes.
“… Reeda, Kate, and Bindi I leave the Waratah Inn, and everything contained within the building and the property, other than those items that have already been named. I also leave to my granddaughters the contents of my bank accounts, retirement account and investment account. The money can be used however they see fit, whether to invest into the inn, or to add to their own investment holdings. I will leave to their discretion what they wish to do with any of the assets bequeathed to them. All I ask is that they do not sell or make changes to the inn, or the running of the inn, unless the three of them agree.”
Bill hesitated, peering over the top of his spectacles eyeing the three girls, one by one. “Any questions so far?”
Kate found she’d been holding her breath, so exhaled before responding. “No, not really. That seems pretty clear.”
“We all have to agree?” asked Reeda.
He nodded. “That’s what she wanted. Of course, you can do as you wish, it’s only a request — nothing legally binding about it.”
He set the paper back on his desk, then tugged open the top drawer. His hand soon re-emerged, holding fast to three, white envelopes. He handed one to each of the women.
Kate turned hers over, noting the front was marked with her name in Nan’s distinctive scrawl, and the back held a wax seal she recognised as the one Nan often used on letters and cards. Nan had loved that she could press her initials, ES, into the wax. It’s the personal touch that matters, she’d say with a grin as she blew on the wax to cool it.
“What are these for?” asked Bindi. “Can we open them now?”
Bill nodded with a smile. “You can open those whenever you like. As to what they say, I can only guess. But for now, I have another appointment, so I wish you ladies all the best.”
“That’s all?” asked Reeda.
He chuckled. “Yep. That about sums it up. I’ve sent copies of everything I just read out loud to each of the beneficiaries, as well as the executor, which as we discussed, is yourself, Reeda.”
She nodded. “Well, okay — thanks.”
They each thanked him, then wandered back to the car in silence. Kate’s head pounded with the beginnings of a headache, and her mind couldn’t fix on a single thought for more than a moment. The inn was theirs, as they’d thought it’d be — so why did she feel so off kilter?
“It’s so surreal,” said Bindi, summing up exactly what Kate couldn’t express.
“I know. The inn is ours. We should’ve asked how much money is in the accounts — is it enough to renovate the old place?” Kate waited for Reeda to unlock the car.
Reeda sighed. “I’ve got all the information here with me. There’s plenty of money, more than enough actually, when you take into account her investments and retirement account. We could renovate the inn and run it in the red for a year before we’d have to look at cutting back.”
“Wow, really? Who knew Nan was sitting on so much money? I wonder why she didn’t fix up the Waratah herself?” exclaimed Kate.
“I think she was happy living her life the way it was,” suggested Bindi with a hitch in her voice.
“Should we read these?” asked Kate, holding her envelope high.
“I’m going to wait until later,” sai
d Bindi. “I’m not up for it yet.”
“Me too,” agreed Reeda, her voice soft.
The drive home was quiet, with each of the women lost in their own thoughts. When they got home, Jack and Mima were waiting for them. They explained what they’d learned, and both Jack and Mima nodded in agreement.
“It’s what she wanted,” said Jack.
“I’m glad she thought of me for her quilts,” added Mima, crossing her arms over her chest. “She knew how much I loved those things, and they remind me of her.” She bit down on her lip.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do with the inn yet?” asked Jack, looking more tired than Kate had ever seen him look before.
Kate exchanged glances with her sisters, then shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Well, make sure and tell us when you figure it out,” responded Mima. “I’ll have to make plans if you’re selling the place.”
“We’ll give you plenty of notice.” Reeda’s eyes were misty, and the end of her nose glowed red as she patted Mima’s arm.
Bindi boiled the kettle and filled a teapot, and the three of them carried it along, with three cups, out to the breakfast nook. They took their seats, gazed out over the inn’s lawn toward the sound of the waves rolling into the cove. Seagulls cried, and somewhere a crow cawed to a steady beat.
“So, what do you think we should do?” asked Reeda, looping her legs over one arm of the chair.
Kate sipped her tea, cupping both hands around to feel its warmth. “I think we should sell.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” replied Reeda. “I mean, I have to get back to Sydney. I’ve been gone too long already; my clients have probably forgotten my name by now.”
Kate chuckled. “My boss has definitely forgotten me, or at least wishes he could. Without a job to go to, it’s time to head home. I feel so out of touch here. Some of my friends called me a few times after I first arrived, and they came to Nan’s funeral, but now several weeks have passed, I’m not hearing from anyone anymore. And Davis…” She couldn’t finish the thought. Davis hadn’t called in days and she hadn’t been able to reach him either.
