Saving Grace Read online

‘Maybe he’s devastated and it’s just his way of dealing with it. Maybe he’s trying to hurt you like he feels you’re hurting him,’ Barbara offered with a shrug.

  ‘I thought you were on my side.’

  ‘I am. I didn’t say he is upset, I was just trying to balance the books a little.’

  ‘I wonder what sort of condition my things in the trailer are in. Not that I suppose it really matters.’

  ‘You know, I think your mother genuinely thought he was there to discuss reconciliation. Did you see how white she went when he pulled out the papers?’

  ‘Well, then why did she think he turned up with all my stuff in a trailer?’

  ‘Maybe she was inside cooking and didn’t see him arrive. I know you’re not going to like me saying this, but I think Enid really was trying to do the right thing.’

  ‘Sometimes I don’t think she lives in the real world.’

  They lapsed into silence for a few moments.

  ‘What I’d like to know,’ Emily said suddenly, ‘is how the laziest man on the planet got off his arse and got settlement papers drawn up so quickly.’

  ‘Maybe he had an inkling you were going to leave and had them drawn up already.’

  Emily shook her head slowly. ‘No, I don’t buy that. John would never think that I’d leave him in a million years. He’s such a great catch, remember?’

  ‘Maybe they’re not properly drawn up – he’s just done them up himself.’

  ‘Hmm, I didn’t look that closely.

  ‘I think the big question here is why the urgency? Three days to sign them? I hope I wasn’t out of line stopping you. But I’m serious, you should have an accountant look over them. Better yet, a lawyer. You only have one shot at this and it could determine your whole future.’

  ‘I really appreciate your concern, but to be honest, I’d rather just sign them and get on with my life. There isn’t much money to be divided up; he ploughed everything back into machinery and stock.’

  ‘All of which you own half of.’

  ‘What would I do with half an old truck, a tractor and several thousand head of sheep?’

  ‘Half the value of. It’s the law, Emily; you’d only be getting what you’re entitled to. Anyway, isn’t his family, like, really wealthy? And what about the farm? That would have to be worth around a million dollars.’

  ‘I think the farm, like all the big machinery, is tied up in a trust or family company or something. Anyway, I really don’t want to be branded as a gold-digger – we live in a small town, remember? The last thing I want – if I ever become successful – is having everyone say it was because of John and his money.’

  Barbara sighed deeply. ‘I suppose you’re right. But it’s not fair. And for the record, I don’t think you’re being fair on yourself either.’

  ‘Maybe not, but it’s reality – well, out here, anyway. God, I hate this place sometimes.’

  ‘Are you going to leave?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know where else to go. Better the devil you know, I guess.’

  Emily looked at her hands in her lap. Just what was in store for her? Whatever happened, she would need money. And Barbara was right: half the assets should legally be hers.

  Was she being magnanimous or just plain gutless? It was one thing to put on a brave front and try to go it alone, but she wouldn’t survive long on her meagre savings. And it didn’t look like there were any jobs going. A rogue tear escaped from one eye.

  ‘You’ll feel much better when you find somewhere to live,’ Barbara said, as if reading her mind. ‘Not that I don’t love having you staying with me. But I do understand you need to start feeling independent again.’

  ‘I think I’ll try to track down the owner of the house we got lost at, see if they’ll rent it,’ Emily said. ‘If it’s been locked up it probably only needs a good clean and a fresh coat of paint.’

  ‘Good idea. Let’s hope it’s better than the other place – that décor was dreadful!’

  ‘We can only hope,’ Emily said, grinning. For the first time in days, she felt good about the prospect of waking up the next morning. ‘You know,’ she said suddenly, ‘I am actually quite relieved I won’t have to go back to the farm.’

  ‘I know. But promise me you’ll at least read the settlement papers before signing them. I’m happy to read through them as well if you want, but I don’t want to intrude.’

  ‘God, Barbara. Do you think after all this I’ve got anything left to hide? Thanks for the offer; it is gratefully accepted.’

  As they turned into Barbara’s driveway, Emily saw the verandah lights blazing. She couldn’t remember them being turned on when they left, but Barbara might have done it without her noticing. Anyway, it had still been daylight then.

  ‘Oh great, David’s home,’ Barbara cried. ‘He must have had a good run with traffic.’

  Emily felt a stab of mild jealousy before she scolded herself for her pettiness. Barbara was her friend; of course she was pleased to see her happy.

  David waved from the porch as Barbara pulled the car into the open garage. Emily waved back.

  She was out of the car and next to David before Barbara.

  ‘Hi David, welcome home. Hope you don’t mind still having a house guest,’ she said, feeling awkward. They had only met a couple of times before.

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, surprising Emily by pulling her into a brief hug before letting her go. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Barb did fill me in on a few of your woes. And you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.’

  ‘Thanks David, that’s really kind of you. You’ve both been so good to me. But I do have to start standing on my own two feet.’

  ‘Whatever you need to do,’ he said and shrugged.

  ‘Well, right now I’m exhausted, so I’m going to go to bed and leave you to your homecoming,’ Emily said. ‘See you in the morning.’

  Barbara gave Emily a hug. ‘Goodnight.’

  She paused at the front door. ‘Come on, Gracie, bedti …’ she started to call, before suddenly stopping. Shit! David was a farmer; dogs belonged outside. She looked sheepishly at Barbara, who mouthed, ‘Oops’ and grimaced.

  ‘God, you two! Don’t think I didn’t suspect you softies would have had the animals inside the moment my back was turned,’ David said, laughing. ‘Go on, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Emily said and stepped across the threshold. Grace darted ahead of her and bolted down the passage.

  Lucky Barbara, having found such a nice man, Emily thought as she snuggled down under the plush quilt in the guest bedroom. Maybe one day she’d find someone nice too.

  Chapter Twenty

  As she lay in bed waiting for the fog of sleep to envelop her, Emily’s mind went back to the old house where they’d found themselves after becoming lost. Even though she hadn’t even stepped inside, there had been something tremendously comforting about the place. The sort of comfort that a grandmother offered, she thought. A familiar wave of warmth washed over Emily and she wrapped her arms around her ribs, as if to capture the feeling.

  Yes, that was it: Gran’s presence had settled around her like a thick quilt. She stared up at the ceiling, tired but wide awake and full of restless energy.

  Tomorrow she really had to start getting her life sorted, she told herself. And she would. No more feeling sorry for herself. John was not going to change. No, that part of her life was over, and she needed to get on with the next. And the next was going to be a B&B. No matter how long it took, she would find the perfect property and turn it into a successful business. Was it the old white house surrounded by gums? She’d need a miracle, but what harm would hoping and dreaming do?

  Emily climbed out of bed and fossicked in her suitcase for the scrapbook she’d kept of the cottage. Beside it lay Gran’s button jar. She took it out and gave it a quick, tight hug before placing it on the bedside table.

  Then she got back into bed with the folder open on her lap. Skipping quickly past the photos of ‘her�
�� cottage that was now rubble, she began leafing through the contents of the folder, trying to imagine the scraps of fabric and examples of impeccable decorating belonging to the large white house.

  Soon she found herself drifting off, into that state of being neither here nor there …

  She was standing with her folder in hand, making notes of measurements, the angle of the light through the windows …

  … And then she was making a slight adjustment to a hung painting. She was dressed in black pants and a deep smoky blue grey formal wraparound shirt. The silk fabric crisscrossed her bodice before capturing her narrow waist in a bow at the small of her back. A strand of glossy white pearls sat just below her throat, highlighting the flawless tanned skin of her décolletage.

  Emily checked her watch; in twenty minutes her guests would begin arriving. Was everything done? What had she forgotten to do? There was something. She frowned, racking her brains. She surveyed the room around her before mentally making her way through the others in the house in turn. Nothing came to mind.

  ‘Didn’t you want to put this somewhere? I seem to remember you saying so,’ a male voice called from the doorway.

  ‘Oh yes, thank you, I’d forgotten.’ Forgotten! How could she, after everything that had happened?

  ‘What about on this little table – swap it for the ruby vase?’

  ‘Okay, but do you think people will think it weird, putting a jar of buttons on display?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sentimentality is a very personal thing. Anyway, could make for a good conversation starter. Come on, it’s time. I can hear a vehicle,’ he said, stretching out a hand towards her.

  What was the occasion? Why were they all dressed up? And who was this man? He was a few metres from her, standing in the doorway, but she couldn’t see his face. He was impeccably dressed in a well-cut charcoal pinstripe suit. She willed him to come closer so she might identify him, but her dream-filled mind wouldn’t comply …

  Emily woke sweating and feeling disoriented. Beams of light were peeping through the crack where the curtains hadn’t quite been pulled together. She looked around and saw the button jar on the bedside table.

  What had she been dreaming about? She frowned. She couldn’t remember turning the lamp off. But she must have.

  Grace was lying in her basket looking wide awake, not-so-patiently waiting for Emily to get up and start the day. Somewhere along the line the young pup had learnt not to jump up on the bed nor whine at the door to be let out. It was as if she was an older dog in a young pup’s skin. An old soul, just like Gran had often said about Emily. It had taken her until about age nineteen to understand what she meant – she’d always thought herself just boring, or ‘antisocial’ as her mother called her. But Gran made her see she was just a little more serious about life, and that there was nothing wrong with enjoying her own company rather than participating in frivolous activities.

  ‘Come on, Gracie,’ Emily said, getting out of bed and dragging her terry towelling robe on.

  ‘Good morning sleepyhead,’ Barbara called as Emily entered the kitchen.

  ‘Morning.’

  ‘Morning Emily,’ David said from the sink, startling her. She’d completely forgotten he’d come home. She instinctively pulled the ties of her robe tighter around her.

  ‘Oh, hello. Sorry, I’m still half-asleep. I had the strangest dream and feel all out of kilter.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, though I think it was more a nightmare,’ Barbara said. ‘We heard you call out. You must have fallen asleep with the light on – I turned it off.’

  ‘Sorry. Probably too much on my mind.’

  It was an awful thought, but Emily wished David would go off and leave her alone with Barbara. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him – she did, very much – it was just that she’d got used to it being the two of them.

  She marvelled at how quickly things could become the norm. This was only her third morning waking up at Barbara’s – less than a week ago she’d been married with her life pretty much laid out before her.

  Emily still found it hard to believe she’d actually left John. Was she mad, brave or stupid? Maybe Enid was right. Maybe it had been a hissy fit designed to provoke an ultimatum. But if so, it had backfired. John had called her bluff. She had lost.

  She stared at the mug of steaming milky coffee that had appeared while her mind was elsewhere.

  Suddenly she felt an overwhelming desire to cry. A giant hand clamped around her heart, squeezing, squeezing until her soul rose up to her throat. She took a tentative sip of coffee and swallowed harder than she needed to.

  She was feeling sorry for herself. Barbara was right: you could choose to be a victim and blame the world for feeling the way you did, or you could decide to get on with changing things to make yourself feel better.

  Gran would have simply shrugged, offered a lopsided grin and said, ‘It just wasn’t meant to be.’ She stared down at her hands wrapped around her mug, imagining Granny Mayfair’s soft, pudgy pat of reassurance – willing it.

  David sat down at the table and Emily felt a slight surge of disappointment. If only she could be alone with Barbara to tell her about the dream – see if she had any idea what it could mean – before it completely faded from her memory.

  It was always the same: she’d wake from a dream, the sequence of events, characters, sights and sounds still clear in her mind, but they would gradually dissipate, as if reality was the sun burning the early morning fog from the horizon.

  She tried to quickly run through the scene, but found most of the detail missing. Had the button jar been dropped, scattering its bright, shiny, multi-sized, multicoloured contents across the floor?

  Upheaval, chaos and panic. It was just a metaphor for what she was experiencing, nothing more. Certainly not a premonition.

  ‘Darling,’ Barbara said to David, as she put down plates of toast in front of both him and Emily, ‘do you remember an old house, whitewashed, around nineteen-thirties vintage, I suppose, due north from here? Its back access road comes out near our mailbox.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Emily said, picking up her knife.

  ‘Of course. It’s the old Baker place. Such a shame to be left empty. Far as I know, it’s just rotting away.’

  ‘So why is it, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know. Probably like lots of other farmhouses around: surplus to requirements. Sign of the times, I guess. I don’t think anyone’s lived there for years. Why do you ask?’

  ‘We got lost the other day and stumbled upon it. Don’t you think it would make a great B&B for Emily? That’s her dream.’

  Emily felt another twinge; she wasn’t ready for anyone to know her plans – her dreams – yet. Why couldn’t Barbara have kept it to herself? Now she’d look foolish if it never happened.

  ‘But I’m about as far from making that happen as I could get,’ she said, trying to sound more upbeat than she felt.

  ‘Well, you have to have dreams,’ David said sagely, before draining his cup and then spreading his toast with butter and jam.

  Barbara sat down with her own plate, and they lapsed into silence while each concentrated on their toast.

  ‘So, what are you girls up to today?’ David asked, pushing his chair back and getting up.

  ‘I need to do some baking and washing, and sort out dinner. Apart from that, not a great deal,’ Barbara said.

  ‘And I need to find somewhere to live, and hopefully a job,’ Emily said.

  ‘Why don’t you give the Bakers a call?’ David suggested, picking up his mug and empty plate from the table. ‘They’re under D.B. and T.R. in the local book. Maybe the old house is in rentable condition and they’ll give it to you cheap – miracles have been known to happen.’

  Emily didn’t know if she could bear to live somewhere so lovely if it couldn’t really be hers. If she was renting she could be kicked out any time the landlords felt like it – and she’d be back at square one again. But to say so might sound negativ
e and ungrateful, so she stayed silent. She nodded in reply.

  ‘Don’t worry, Em. Things have a way of working out,’ he said, giving her shoulder a pat. ‘Well, I’d better get out and see what’s been happening while I’ve been away. I’ll be ages, so don’t wait for me for lunch.’

  As she watched David bend to kiss his wife goodbye, Emily felt a surge of affection for him – for them both. They really were a lovely couple, and she was lucky to have them on her side.

  ‘Don’t you two get up to any mischief while I’m gone,’ he added with a grin.

  They listened in silence as David’s footsteps echoed down the hall. A few moments later he was back in the doorway.

  ‘It seems your Grace wants a day out as a real dog. Do you mind if she comes along?’

  Emily shrugged. ‘Fine with me, if you’re sure she won’t be any trouble.’

  ‘I’m just going around the sheep. I’ll tie her on so she’ll be safe and sound. I promise to take good care of her.’ He left with a wave of his hand.

  ‘Did you sign the papers from John?’ Barbara asked.

  ‘No. You told me not to until you’d had a look.’

  ‘Oh, that was just so you didn’t rush into it. I don’t need to read them; it’s really none of my business.’

  ‘But would you? Please, Barbara, my brain’s not functioning very well at the moment. And quite frankly, I’d like to get them out of the way. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can get on with my life.’

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure. But I don’t think I’ll have any better idea of what to look for than you. As I said last night, you really should get professional advice.’

  ‘Well, you’re less emotional and more objective than me for a start – that’s reason enough. I’ll go and get them.’

  ‘How about while I take a look you ring the Bakers – use the phone in the office. Phone books are in the top left drawer and paper and pens in the drawer below.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Emily found the number easily and dialled quickly. It rang four times before a gruff male voice answered.

  ‘Hello.’