Meant To Be Page 10

  Enid entered the kitchen, followed by a sheepish-looking Des. Both were dressed smartly in crisp, neatly ironed shirts – Des: navy and white check; Enid: plain white – and navy slacks. Des’s wiry grey hair was standing up a little, as if he had been running his hands through it, but not a hair was out of place in Enid’s grey bob. Jake came in after them. Must remember to keep the door locked, Emily thought grimly.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ Enid said. ‘Happy Australia Day.’

  ‘Hi Mum, hi Dad, come in,’ she said, getting up from the table. Her sarcasm was clearly lost on Enid, but not Des, who mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

  Emily performed the air-kiss ritual with Enid and then wrapped her arms around her father.

  ‘So what brings you by, Mum?’

  ‘We’re on our way home from the ceremony. We went to Wattle Creek this year at the invitation of the Greens. We thought you might have been there.’

  ‘I didn’t feel like it this year.’

  ‘Well, Jake might have enjoyed getting out and meeting some people. Not everything is about you, Emily.’

  ‘We did discuss it, Enid, but I didn’t actually feel up to it,’ Jake said. Emily’s heart surged with gratitude. She really hadn’t known what to say.

  ‘Oh. Are you unwell? What brings you so far from home, anyway, Jake? Surely not just to visit our Emily.’

  Why wouldn’t he come especially to visit me? Thanks a bloody lot, Mum!

  ‘Oh. Just a bit of a break in the fresh country air,’ he said, starting to look a little flustered.

  ‘So, you haven’t said what brings you by,’ Emily said.

  ‘You haven’t been to visit, so we thought we’d come to you,’ Enid replied haughtily. ‘Do I have to make an appointment now to see my daughter, my only child?’

  That would be preferable, yes.

  ‘So, are you going to offer your parents a seat and a cuppa, or just have us stand here like statues?’

  Emily shrugged and waved a hand as an invitation to sit down.

  ‘You sit, Em. I’ll get the coffees.’

  ‘Thanks, Jake. I’ll have tea, please.’ As Emily sat down, she realised that her mother was peering at the plans they had been working on. Shit! She wished she’d thought to gather up the papers and stuff them in a drawer. Not that she’d had time.

  ‘Tea for me too – white with one, thanks Jake,’ Des said, taking a chair.

  ‘Coffee for me, thank you. Milk, no sugar,’ Enid said.

  ‘Coming right up.’

  Emily watched as Enid dragged the plans towards her and began scrutinising them.

  ‘Do I smell fresh paint?’ Des asked. It was silent in the room except for Jake’s rattling around at the nearby bench.

  ‘You do, indeed, Dad. I’m doing myself an office,’ Emily said proudly.

  ‘Looks like you’re doing more than that,’ Enid said in an accusatory tone as she jabbed a fingernail into the plan.

  Uh-oh, here we go again.

  ‘Oh, that’s something of mine,’ Jake said.

  ‘It’s okay, Jake,’ Emily said in practically a whisper. ‘It’s actually a joint project,’ she now said boldly, looking directly at her mother. ‘We’re going to rebuild the cottage across the way. Though it’ll be considerably bigger than the original cottage.’

  ‘Whatever for?!’

  ‘Because I want to. Because we want to,’ Emily said, fully aware her chin was now jutting out stubbornly.

  ‘And how much is that going to cost?’ Enid continued.

  ‘That’s really none of your business, Mum,’ Emily said, forcing the words to come out slowly and calmly. She noticed her father’s eyebrows rose up a notch, felt a little guilty for him having to be part of this, but pushed it back.

  ‘Well, it sounds like a silly idea to me. I thought you’d have learnt your lesson after that other dreadful house.’

  The blood rushed to Emily’s cheeks. She tried to remain calm. ‘Mum, it really makes no difference what you think. It’s my idea, my money, and my life.’

  ‘But, Emily…’

  ‘But nothing, Mum.’

  ‘Enid, I’m sure Jake and Em know what they’re doing,’ Des said.

  Emily was relieved when at that moment Jake delivered the mugs and sat down. Murmurs of thanks made their way around the table.

  ‘So, who won the Citizen and Young Citizen of the Year for Wattle Creek?’ she ventured.

  ‘If you had any interest in your community, Emily, you would know,’ Enid said, making an exaggerated show of picking up her mug and taking a sip.

  ‘I really can’t take a trick, today, can I?’ Emily said, putting on a laugh in an attempt to calm the situation.

  ‘Emily, you can’t possibly think this is a good idea,’ Enid said, jabbing at the papers again. ‘You already have a perfectly suitable house.’

  ‘Can we please just change the subject?’ Emily said, desperately searching her mind for something benign to discuss.

  ‘But, Emily, you’re not being sensible. You need to think it through.’

  ‘I have. We have, Mum.’

  ‘Enid, I wouldn’t be supporting Emily in this if it wasn’t a viable proposition. I’m a not-too-shabby businessman, actually.’

  ‘Well, you can’t be a very good businessman if you think this is a good idea. And you barely know each other.’

  ‘Enid,’ Des warned.

  ‘Clearly someone needs to be the voice of reason here.’

  ‘Mum, please…’

  ‘It’s okay, Emily, your mother is entitled to her opinion,’ Jake said, laying a hand on hers. ‘Can we please just enjoy our cuppa and our time together? I’ve been looking forward to catching up.’

  How can he be so calm? I want to knock her bloody head off!

  ‘I’ve lost my appetite,’ Enid said, putting her mug down and pushing it away with a sneer. She got up. ‘Come on Des,’ she said, gathering her handbag from the floor beside her. ‘We’ve clearly caught Emily at a bad time. We’ll visit again when she’s in a better frame of mind.’

  Emily fumed but kept her mouth shut.

  Des Oliphant remained seated. Enid stood over him and tugged at his elbow.

  ‘Des, now, we’re leaving.’

  The wall clock counted the passing seconds loudly in the silence. Finally, Des looked up at his wife. ‘Actually, no, Enid. You can go, but I am not. I’m interested to hear about Emily and Jake’s plans. You can wait in the car or come back later and pick me up. Or not. I can easily find my own way home.’ At this he shot Emily a slightly stricken look, which she answered with a nod.

  ‘But. But…’

  ‘Enid, go. Just go.’

  For a moment it looked like she was about to sit back down. Please don’t, Emily pleaded silently. She so badly wanted this time with her father. And to give him a big hug and say thank you, thank you, thank you for standing up for her.

  Jake got up and followed Enid as she stomped out to the glass door.

  Although they were on the other side of a thick stone wall, their voices could be clearly heard. Emily wasn’t surprised by what her mother said next, but she still cringed at Enid’s nerve, even in obvious defeat.

  ‘Jake, clearly Emily is suffering some sort of midlife crisis.’ Emily imagined Enid holding his arm and feigning sincerity. ‘Though surely she’s a little young for that. Anyway, whatever is causing her to be so wilful needs looking into. I suggest you book her in to see the new psychologist, Jacqueline Havelock.’

  ‘Emily is fine, Enid,’ Jake replied in a pleasant, even tone.

  There was an audible harrumph and then the sound of the glass door whooshing and shutting with a bang, followed by the faint thud of court-shoe heels on concrete. Jake returned and sat back down heavily at the table.

  ‘I’m sorry about all this, Des,’ Jake said.

  ‘Why are you apologising? Please, Jake, honestly, it’s quite refreshing to hear Emily stand up to her mother. I’m afraid I’ve let her down on that score far too ma
ny times.’

  Well, you’ve certainly made up for it today, Emily thought, looking sympathetically at her father.

  Des looked gutted. Her heart lurched. It must be awful to be caught between the two women he loved, trying to be loyal to both at once. He was between a rock and a hard place, as Gran would have said. Emily wished it wasn’t like this, but she certainly hadn’t set out to provoke her mother. All she’d done wrong was not hide the evidence of the cottage project. Why couldn’t Enid be supportive? She didn’t have to agree, or even understand, just nod politely and say, ‘It’s your life, dear, whatever makes you happy.’ How hard was that?

  ‘I’m afraid Enid can be a bit insecure about her place in the world,’ Des continued. ‘And any happiness or success Emily finds just seems to magnify it. I wish there were something I could do, but I’m afraid she’s not going to change now. Maybe she’s just too set in her ways.’ He sighed deeply.

  Emily stared at him, wondering if he was actually thinking of leaving her mother after all these years. ‘I’m sorry I upset her, Dad. I didn’t mean to.’

  Des nodded and patted his daughter’s hand in response.

  They cocked their heads slightly at hearing a car door slam, engine roar to life, and the spray of gravel. There was a collective breath of relief now they knew Enid wasn’t outside waiting.

  ‘Looks like I might need to trouble you guys for a ride home,’ Des said, shaking his head.

  ‘Do you think she’ll be back?’ Jake asked.

  Des winced. ‘I doubt it.’ He was obviously upset but trying not to show it.

  ‘I have to go and shop for groceries anyway,’ Emily said. ‘I’ll just get them in Hope Springs instead of Wattle Creek. They’re open on the public holiday, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes. So,’ Des said, clearly making an effort to be more up-beat, ‘how about we start again. Tell me all about this exciting plan you have.’ He looked from Emily to Jake and back again.

  ‘You tell the story, Em, and I’ll fill in the gaps,’ Jake said.

  As Emily showed her father the plans for the gallery, telling him all they had been discussing that day, she was pleased to hear his genuine enthusiasm. She wished her mother had shown the same excitement. Had Enid ever been excited for her? About anything? A wave of sadness swept through her before she could push it back.

  ‘It sounds like a great idea,’ Des said. ‘I don’t know much about art or any of that sort of thing, but I think something else for tourists to look at can only be good for everyone. There seem to be a lot more people traipsing over this way nowadays thanks to the wineries and such. And I’ll happily sit and chip some mortar off rocks if you can do with the help,’ he added.

  ‘Careful what you offer, Dad,’ Emily warned.

  ‘It’ll be nice to get some fresh air and sunshine,’ he said with a wave of his hand, ‘though you might find I’m a bit of a fair weather labourer. Honestly, if there’s anything at all I can do to help, you only have to ask,’ he added, patting Emily’s hand.

  ‘Thanks, Dad. We’ll let you know. Though, as you can see, it’s very early days yet.’

  An image of them working together on the old house she’d rented from the Bakers crept into her mind. It had been a great bonding time, but it seemed so long ago.

  After half an hour they offered to drive Des back to Hope Springs, since they hadn’t heard from Enid and Emily really had to get to the shop before it closed. As they walked over to the shed where the car was garaged, she remembered the hayshed. So much had been running through her mind since seeing it, she’d forgotten to mention the wonderful surprise from that morning.

  ‘Dad, there’s something you have to see before you go,’ she said, changing the direction towards the newly erected frame, which was only fifty metres away but hidden by the large shed next to it.

  ‘David and Jake organised for the hayshed to be moved,’ she continued, practically skipping. ‘The iron is going on tomorrow after the footings have cured. It’s so exciting. I only found out this morning. It was a total surprise.’ She stopped in front of the large steel structure and waited for her father and Jake to catch up.

  ‘It’ll be nice not to see it out of your bedroom window anymore,’ Des said, gazing at the steel shining in the sun. ‘Sounds like you’re really settling in and making your mark on the place, Em. I’m so pleased for you,’ he said, draping an arm around her shoulders. ‘And I really appreciate all you’re doing, Jake,’ he added.

  ‘I’m enjoying being here,’ Jake said, beaming at Emily. He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘Hey, Dad, you’re welcome to come and hang out tomorrow while the guys are putting the iron on – if you’ve got nothing else to do,’ Emily said. ‘I’m making scones for morning tea,’ she added in an enticing tone.

  ‘Oh, well, there’s no way I can resist the call of your scones, Em. Count me in. But as long as I’m not going to be in the way,’ he added, looking at Jake.

  ‘You’ll be no more in the way than this city boy,’ Jake said, smiling back.

  ‘Great, thanks. I’ll come on by. Right about smoko time, I reckon,’ Des said, grinning cheekily.

  ‘Thanks very much for the ride. Time to see what sort of mood awaits,’ Des said wearily, as he got out of the car idling at the kerb of Emily’s parents’ home.

  Emily wondered for a split second if she should go in and speak to her mother. Ordinarily she would have.

  As they drove away, she thought about how much time and breath she’d wasted over the years being the adult to her mother’s childish tantrums. Even more annoying was the realisation of how Enid always managed to manipulate her into feeling that she was the one in the wrong. Not anymore.

  They parked in front of the small supermarket, but just as Emily was about to get out of the car, Jake placed his hand on her thigh.

  ‘I wanted to say this earlier, but I didn’t want to embarrass your father. I’m so proud of the way you handled your mother today.’

  ‘Thanks, Jake. I don’t think it’ll make much difference, but I sure feel better for standing up for myself. If only she could see that not everything is about her,’ Emily mused.

  ‘You did the right thing. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. Look at all you’ve had to deal with over the past few months.’

  ‘I’d rather not, if you don’t mind,’ she said, with a laugh. ‘But thanks.’ She leant over and kissed him before opening the car door and getting out.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following morning Emily kissed Jake goodbye when the first vehicle drove in, a friendly honk signalling its arrival. There wasn’t time to go out and meet and greet – the first smoko would be around before she knew it and she was already busy in the kitchen. She had planned a veritable feast stretching out over the day: scones with jam and cream or cheese and tomato, and an assortment of sandwiches for morning tea; roast chicken, sliced ham and salad for lunch; homemade pasties, another different assortment of sandwiches, and buttered date loaf for afternoon tea.

  Back in the first year of their marriage, John had told her how important it was to serve good food during shearing. According to him, the best, most plentiful meals ensured their shed would receive priority the following year. If you served up average food you were apparently relegated down the list and the shearing team manager would send the slower, less experienced people.

  Emily had sometimes wondered if this was just something John had concocted to shift the blame if things didn’t go his way. Perhaps people might put his shed last on the list simply because they objected to having abuse shouted at them. But what did she know? She’d been on the farm about five minutes in the scheme of things and, as he had regularly reminded her, she was a born-and-bred ‘townie’ anyway.

  The discussion of food for shearing – or rather his insistence she provide exceptional meals; he’d made it quite clear he wasn’t interested in discussing it in any finer detail than that – was the closest John ever
got to sharing farming facts with her. She still didn’t have a clue how many fleeces made up a bale, or how many bales they might get from their flock. They were all things she should probably get up to speed with now.

  Apparently speed was everything when it came to shearing. It was a major job that few farmers enjoyed (and many absolutely hated) and stretching it out just added to the annoyance. One of the things that would send John into a rage was if everyone had to come back for a half-day to finish off. It had happened only once in her time, and as far as Emily could see it wasn’t really anyone’s fault. She was actually just as inconvenienced as John was, through having to do more cooking, not to mention the additional cost of providing the extra few meals. It didn’t sound like much, but as Emily had soon learnt, feeding six or seven men three times a day really added up.

  If all went well today, the men would be finished cladding the shed by early evening. She had called David when they’d been in the supermarket the day before and offered dinner as well, but he’d phoned back a few minutes later to say that Steve and Grant had meetings that evening and wouldn’t be able to stay. Since she wasn’t paying them, she was even more determined than ever to feed the men well.

  She wondered how their wives felt about them working for her on their holidays. She’d have to put on a barbeque sometime later to thank everyone. It would be nice to get to know them better, and potentially useful if she was going to be running a business down the track.

  As Emily measured out the ingredients for the date loaf, she thought about how much fun she and Barbara had had cooking together. The company would have been nice, but she could totally understand Barbara’s declaration of being ‘on strike’ after all the work she’d done for the day before, especially whilst being pregnant. She hoped Barbara would have a nice quiet day and rest up. Meanwhile, I’d better stop daydreaming and get cracking!

  Even though she was under pressure to get the meals out at certain times, the prospect of a day in the kitchen filled Emily with a sense of calm and serenity. She’d never understood why her mother claimed to hate cooking.

  As she sifted flour, Emily shook her head, remembering how Enid had briefly taken up jam making after Jake had raved about her own apricot jam. Barbara had suggested that Enid was just feeling threatened because Emily was good at something, and trying to compete as a result. Emily had been a little annoyed; lately Enid seemed to copy everything she did. Like getting her hair cut into the same chin-length bob. Oh, well, perhaps she’d tire of that like she had the jam. According to Des, two attempts tasting like burnt toffee had put an end to the jam hobby.