Saving Grace Page 17

  Emily got up and opened one of the French doors, keeping the bolt on the second in place. ‘Come on, Gracie, do you want to go out?’

  But the dog didn’t budge from her bed in the corner.

  She looked back across the room to the sink. The torch was still there, exactly as she’d left it.

  She frowned. Was something missing? What else had she left there? She went through the brief inventory – plate, cup, cutlery, water bottle, esky. Then she noticed something on the floor right near the end of the bench.

  ‘Oh no!’ She crossed to where jagged, broken pieces of glass stuck up like icebergs amongst a multicoloured scattering of buttons – Gran’s buttons. Grace appeared beside her.

  ‘Get away, you’ll cut yourself,’ she snapped, and pushed the dog away. She picked up a piece of glass and dropped it again quickly when it stung her. Blood sprung from her finger. Emily crossed her legs, put her head in her hands, and began to cry.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  ‘What’s happened? Are you okay?’

  Emily looked up to find Barbara rushing through the open kitchen door. ‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ she said.

  ‘There’s glass everywhere. You’re bleeding!’

  ‘I’m fine. It’s only a tiny cut on my finger,’ she said, holding her hand up. ‘I’m just sitting here feeling sorry for myself.’ She tried to get up, but faltered.

  ‘You certainly are not okay,’ Barbara said, grabbing her friend’s arm to steady her.

  ‘No, seriously, my legs have probably just gone to sleep,’ she said, accepting Barbara’s help.

  ‘How long have you been sitting here?’

  Emily replied with a shrug.

  ‘Where’s Grace?’ Barbara asked, looking around. The dog was in her basket, looking at them over her paws.

  ‘Oh, Gracie, come here, I’m sorry,’ Emily called.

  The dog stayed where she was.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘I told her off. Oh, I feel terrible. Please Gracie, come on. Mummy’s sorry.’

  ‘What did you tell her off about?’ Barbara helped Emily into the nearest chair.

  ‘I was worried she’d cut herself, but I overreacted – probably because I barely had any sleep.’

  ‘Join the club,’ Barbara said with a smirk. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink worrying about you here on your own – hence my arrival at sparrow fart. I haven’t even had a coffee yet. Let’s put the kettle on.’

  Barbara busied herself at the sink and Emily tried to coax Grace over. Eventually the dog cautiously crossed the lino to her mistress’s side, giving the mess on the floor a wide berth. After considerable cooing and grovelling and lots of affection from Emily, she returned to her bed, curled up and went to sleep.

  ‘Looks like someone else had a rough night,’ Barbara said, nodding at Grace as she waited for Emily to fold the swag over and dump it on the floor. She put the mugs down in front of them. ‘So, tell me, what happened?’

  ‘It’s the button jar.’

  ‘Did you drop it?’

  ‘No, I don’t know what happened. I’m pretty sure it was on the bench.’

  ‘It was, unless you moved it last night. I put it there myself.’

  ‘No idea how, but it must have fallen off. It scared the living crap out of us. Of course, last night we didn’t know what the bang was. And when I found it broken it just set me off. I should have just left it in the suitcase.’ Why didn’t I? ‘It’s silly to be so upset – it’s only a glass jar full of buttons, for goodness sake,’ she said, sipping her coffee.

  ‘Darling, it’s not about the jar, or the buttons; it’s the symbolism. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how special that jar is – was – to you. It was the first thing you took out of your suitcase when you came to stay. And when you got here.’

  Emily nodded. ‘It was Gran’s.’

  ‘Oh. In that case you’re probably feeling like you’ve lost her all over again. And it doesn’t help that you’re stressed and really tired. You need to be a bit easier on yourself. So how do you think it fell off, anyway? I left it well back from the edge.’

  ‘That’s last night’s big mystery – mice, probably. Hence the swag on the table.’

  ‘Ooh, yuck! But hang on. It was heavy; you’d need an army of them to budge it, let alone push it off the edge.’

  ‘Well, there are probably quite a few, but I don’t think enough to qualify as an army.’

  Barbara looked down at the buttons and the remains of the jar, then turned back to Emily. ‘Shit, you don’t think the place is haunted, do you?’

  ‘I bloody well hope not. No, I think Grace would be more unsettled if there was something weird she couldn’t see.’

  ‘What else could it have been?’

  ‘The only thing I can think of – and it makes my skin crawl to even think about it – is rats.’

  ‘If there were rats, I’m sure your dad and David would have found droppings in the roof yesterday.’

  ‘Maybe they just didn’t say anything in case I freaked out.’

  ‘No. David would have told me, and we would have taken steps to quietly remedy the situation,’ she added with conspiratorial raised eyebrows.

  ‘So you don’t have a boot full of rat traps and baits outside, then?’

  ‘Nope.’ Barbara returned her attention to her coffee. ‘I guess we’ll never know.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a sign.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘That I’m not meant to be here.’

  ‘Em, if you’ve changed your mind, you only have to say. Just because we helped you move in, doesn’t mean you have to stay. We’d move you ten times if we needed to, because you’re our friend and we want you to be happy – well, maybe not ten, but definitely five. So don’t go looking for signs that you’re not meant to be here, all right?’

  Emily let out a loud sigh. ‘Thanks. It means a lot; you mean a lot – both of you.’

  ‘Having said that, could you give us a few days to recover?’ Barbara said, laughing.

  The both sipped at their coffees in silence.

  ‘Right. First things first, I think we should put the buttons somewhere safe while we look for another jar. Then we’re going to write a list for the day, and do what we can to make tonight better. That is, if you want to stay,’ Barbara said.

  ‘What’s a few mice and cockroaches, right?’ Emily shrugged, grimacing.

  ‘Well, I could remind you of bubonic plague and a multitude of other bacterial diseases, but that really wouldn’t be very helpful, now would it?’

  ‘No, but speaking of which, I really need a shower – I was too scared to go out there last night.’

  ‘I thought I could smell something,’ Barbara said, grinning.

  ‘Oh, ha ha.’

  ‘Only kidding. Now, you go and have a shower. I’ll tidy up the buttons and then start on the list.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ve found the house’s redeeming feature,’ Emily said, returning to the kitchen. ‘That shower is to die for. I had trouble getting out.’

  ‘I noticed,’ Barbara said.

  ‘Sorry I took so long.’

  ‘No probs. I put the buttons in that ice-cream container up there,’ she said, pointing to the top of the pantry cupboard beside the kitchen window.

  ‘Thanks. Did you manage to get most of the glass out?’

  ‘Yes, but I wouldn’t go rummaging around in there with my bare hands. Funny the things people put in button jars,’ she added musingly.

  ‘Like, er, buttons?’

  ‘No, other than buttons, silly.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Marbles, belt buckles, paperclips, pebbles, shells, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Really, in Gran’s in particular?’

  ‘Yes, didn’t you know?’

  ‘No, I never saw her take the lid off. She always bought new buttons if she needed one.’

  ‘How bizarre.’

  ‘I wonder when Gran took
it off last. Must have been in the last ten years – since she had Alzheimer’s – if there’s weird stuff in there.’

  ‘You know, there are some really old-looking military-style buttons. I wonder if they’re worth anything,’ Barbara said.

  ‘Doesn’t matter; I wouldn’t want to sell them anyway. You didn’t chuck anything out, did you?’ Emily asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

  ‘Of course not. I agree with you: it’s like a complete collection.’

  ‘You know, having a few weird things in there sort of completes it,’ said Emily. ‘Like it’s a representation of her whole life or something. I love that.’

  ‘I’ve left the lid and large pieces of glass on top so you’ll know exactly what jar it was. It’s got Bushells printed on the glass. It can’t be too rare or old, so I’m sure you’ll find another one eventually.’

  ‘I hope so – I want it just how it was,’ Emily said.

  ‘Now, I’ve made a list for …’

  ‘Hey, before we get into that, can you come and check out the cellar with me? I was too scared to go down there on my own last night as well. That key we found by the oven does fit the lock.’

  ‘Girl, you’ve really gotta toughen up.’

  ‘I know.’

  They made their way outside, around the verandah to the door on the far corner of the house. When they got there, Emily turned the key in the lock and put her shoulder against the door. The hinges groaned in protest.

  ‘Spooky,’ Barbara said. ‘I don’t blame you for not wanting to be out here in the dark.’

  Emily ran her hand up and down the doorframe, searching for a light switch before holding out her hand for the torch.

  ‘Ah, here it is,’ she said, finally locating it a few inches further across on the wall. She stood aside so they could both see. A large space stretched out below them, illuminated by a single bulb.

  ‘Wow, it’s huge,’ Barbara said, making her way down the brick steps.

  ‘Watch out for spiderwebs and creepy-crawlies,’ Emily warned.

  ‘Too late,’ Barbara said, pausing to drag a dusty mess from her hair and shoulders.

  They reached the bottom and looked around. Red brick walls loomed large around them. Solid timber joists ran across the room a metre or two above their heads, holding up the floor of the house. Freestanding wooden shelves stood along half of one of the long walls. Except for the absence of painted plaster and ceilings, and the lack of windows, the space was not unlike the rooms upstairs.

  ‘It’s even got a fireplace,’ Emily said, gazing about in awe.

  ‘And a paved floor,’ Barbara said, moving some dirt with her foot.

  ‘But why would you need a fireplace in a cellar?’ Emily asked.

  ‘To keep warm?’

  ‘I know that, but wouldn’t the cellar have been used for keeping vegetables and preserves cool and dark?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘It must go under half of the house.’

  ‘No, I think this is only under the lounge-dining room, otherwise we’d be able to see the foundations. And that’s about the right place to share the chimney. You know, this would absolutely make the best space for a little restaurant,’ Barbara continued.

  ‘My head’s spinning.’

  ‘With excitement, I hope.’

  ‘Not exactly. I feel overwhelmed, a bit depressed.’

  ‘Depressed? Are you crazy? This is a brilliant find.’

  Emily took a seat halfway up the stairs. ‘Because it’s not mine, and at the rate things are going it never will be. I have no money and no job. And even if I did, the brothers don’t want to sell, anyway.’

  ‘Only one doesn’t want to sell, remember? And you’re about to get forty grand from John.’

  ‘This place might be worth hundreds of thousands. And I’d need that much again to do it up.’

  ‘Perhaps there’s a sackful of cash stuffed up the chimney.’

  ‘Then it would belong to the Bakers, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Stop being a negative ninny. It doesn’t hurt to dream,’ Barbara said, sitting two steps below Emily. ‘Just imagine: beautifully dressed tables with candles everywhere, a fire burning, the buzz of conversation …’

  ‘I can’t, it’s too depressing – I want it now,’ Emily said, burying her head in her hands.

  ‘All good things come to those who wait.’

  ‘You sound like Gran,’ Emily groaned.

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, it’s true. Just because you can’t see the dream, doesn’t mean you should give up on it. If it’s meant to be, it will be.’

  ‘That’s fine for you to say.’

  ‘True passion is fulfilled eventually,’ Barbara continued. ‘Meanwhile you live one day at a time – by the hour, if it’s a bad day. So, let’s just focus on getting you comfortable and settled. If you’re careful, your money will easily last eighteen months, so look at it as taking a year off. You’ve earned it putting up with John.’

  ‘What would I do without you?’ Emily said, leaning down and putting her arms around her friend’s shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know, go mad? Seriously, please stop stressing about the future so much. This should be an exciting time – you’re free to figure out what you really want from life.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘No, you’ll do. You realise all this means John still has a major hold over you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, only by being happy and successful will he stop controlling you – and before you say anything, success isn’t just about money. You may have got away from him, but if you don’t dare to dream and strive for those dreams, he’s still in control. Same goes for your mother.’

  Emily sat back. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

  ‘Well, it’s time you did. Anyway, enough of the psychobabble; we need to get cracking with that to do list,’ Barbara said, slapping her knees and getting up. They climbed back up the steps and walked around to the kitchen door.

  ‘Okay, so what should we do first?’ Emily asked, looking around her.

  ‘Well, if you’re to get a decent night’s sleep, we need to get rid of the mice and seal up the house as best we can. I vote we go into town and get some baits and steel wool for closing up the gaps.’

  ‘Good idea. I also want to see if the op shop has any fabric or curtains that will fit these windows. And I need some groceries. I’m also going to need a small fridge, a washing machine, crockery, cutlery, vacuum cleaner … God, it’s making my head spin.’

  ‘Lucky I’ve got the ute! Why don’t you put Gracie out in the yard and I’ll meet you round the front.’

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘Hey, is that an orchard up there by the creek?’ Barbara asked when Emily joined her at the ute.

  ‘I’m not sure – I haven’t been up there to check it out yet.’

  ‘They’re the wrong colour to be natives.’

  ‘Hmm, I agree. We’ll have to take a look when we get back.’

  ‘Almost everyone had an orchard in the old days,’ Barbara continued, turning the key and starting the vehicle. ‘Back then it would have been a long trip to town, so they’d have made a lot of their own produce.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind making some jam.’

  For the first time Emily thought about how far she was from town. It was one thing for her and Barbara to take the backroads in the ute, but guests probably wouldn’t be keen to drive that far on gravel or rubble.

  Emily’s mobile began to ring and she started frantically rummaging in her bag. She answered without checking the caller ID.

  ‘Hello, Emily speaking.’

  ‘Hi Em, it’s Dad.’

  ‘Oh, hi Dad, how are you?’

  ‘Fine, fine. Listen, the Buckleys have sold their shack and are cleaning it out this morning. The family picked through most of the good stuff, but they’re practically giving everything else away, if you’re interested.’

  ‘Like what
?’

  ‘Well, there’s an old fridge, small top-loading washing machine, vacuum cleaner, double bed, a pair of singles … What do you think, can you use anything?’

  ‘Er, everything you just mentioned,’ Emily said with a laugh. ‘How much are they asking?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about it, it’ll be my treat.’

  ‘Really? Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite. I can’t guarantee the height of fashion or anything, but it all looks pretty clean and functional. You can replace it later, when things improve, but I thought it would make a start.’

  ‘Thanks Dad, it’ll be a big help.’

  ‘I’ll load up the trailer and bring it out tomorrow if you’ll be home – say, in the morning?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I hope it will all meet with your approval – but at least if it’s only temporary, it won’t matter so much.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ Emily said. I’m not my mother. ‘See you then – and Dad, thanks so much.’ She hung up and turned to stare at Barbara with wide eyes. ‘Wow!’

  ‘I take it that was your father?’ Barbara said.

  ‘Yes, and we can cross fridge, washing machine, bed and vacuum cleaner off our list. Apparently the Buckleys are cleaning out their shack and practically giving their stuff away.’

  ‘Brilliant. That’ll save some money.’

  ‘I’m taking a bit of a punt though, aren’t I, trusting Dad to furnish my house?’

  ‘At least this way you can take your time to find things you really love when you can afford them.’

  ‘I got the impression Mum wasn’t with him. Otherwise it wouldn’t be happening – she can’t cope with second-hand. Fancy using a washing machine someone else has used!’ Emily added, mimicking her mother’s critical tone.

  ‘Not to mention a bed,’ Barbara said.

  ‘No worries, I’ll just get a mattress protector. Honestly, Barbara, I’m just pleased I don’t have to waste money buying all those boring but necessary appliances. I was all set to give the old mangle out in the washhouse a go.’