Saving Grace Read online

  Chapter Forty

  The following morning, Elizabeth wandered into the kitchen wearing a pale pink plush dressing gown over white and multi-pink, striped light-cotton shortie pyjamas. She plonked herself heavily onto the nearest chair. ‘God, I slept like an absolute log,’ she said.

  ‘I thought you were going to sleep all day,’ Emily replied.

  ‘You sound like our mothers. What’s the time, anyway?’

  ‘Eight-thirty-five,’ Emily said. Liz was right; it was something their mothers would say. So what if they slept all day – they were on holidays.

  ‘Thanks,’ Elizabeth said, as Emily placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. ‘So, no sign of Jake yet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wow, he’s normally up with the sparrows, no matter how late he goes to bed.’

  A couple of minutes later, Jake came in looking barely awake. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d been in the day before, and his hair was sticking out in all directions except for a flat patch on one side. Emily suppressed an urge to giggle.

  ‘Good morning,’ Emily and Elizabeth said in unison.

  ‘Good morning,’ Jake said with more cheer than his appearance suggested he felt.

  ‘I hope Grace didn’t disturb you,’ Emily said, noticing the dog trot in after Jake and take her spot in the far corner.

  Emily had let her out early for her customary morning wee, but hadn’t seen her for ages.

  ‘Yes and no. She demanded I open my door at around seven, and then proceeded to commandeer half my bed. I guess we fell asleep. I hope you don’t mind – she was quite insistent.’

  ‘I’d believe it. And no, she’s generally allowed to do as she pleases – I’m a bit of a sucker like that.’

  ‘I’m not surprised – she really is a lovely dog.’

  ‘Thanks. I don’t know what I’d have done without her this last month. As clichéd as it is, she really has been my saving grace.’

  ‘Liz told me you’ve been through some tough times. She wasn’t gossiping or anything,’ he hastened to add, ‘was just explaining how you came to be living here.’

  ‘Really, I wasn’t,’ Liz said.

  Emily waved a dismissive arm. ‘When you’ve lived in a small country town all your life, you get quite used to people talking about you.’

  ‘Not that it makes it easier – it still hurts when people talk behind your back, right?’ Jake said.

  Emily sensed a flicker of camaraderie.

  ‘I think what really hurts is the division – people you thought were friends no longer giving you the time of day,’ she said. ‘And the lies that are peddled about so freely – without anyone actually asking the people involved to confirm or deny them. That’s what really pisses me off.’ Emily shut her mouth abruptly to stop herself from ranting. ‘Sorry, it’s all still a bit raw. Coffee?’ she asked, getting up.

  ‘Don’t be sorry. And yes, thanks, coffee would be great.’ Jake said.

  ‘So, you must have grown up in a small town as well to be so aware of how things work?’

  ‘Not really,’ Jake said. ‘I wasn’t born into one, but I spent a few years in one doing an apprenticeship. Of course it had its good points, but I found it quite toxic at times.’

  ‘If you two are going to have a deep and meaningful about small-town living, I’m going to take a shower and get organised,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We’re going out this morning, right?’ She drained her coffee and got up.

  ‘Yes. I told my friend Barbara we’d be there at ten. But we’ve got plenty of time,’ Emily replied on autopilot. She was focussed on what Jake had last said. ‘Toxic’. That’s exactly the right word for it,’ she said, keen to continue their conversation. ‘Though I have to be fair. I’m just a bit jaded at the moment – ordinarily I love country life.’

  ‘Me too, but it’s like anything – there’s good and bad aspects, and you have to just make the most of what you get.’

  ‘So where did you do your apprenticeship?’ Emily asked, placing his coffee in front of him.

  ‘Small town down near the bottom of Victoria. I did a building apprenticeship. I wasn’t so keen on it.’

  ‘The building or the small town?’

  ‘Both, really,’ he laughed. ‘I don’t want to sound like a total snob, but I realised I don’t relate well to rednecks and bogans. I’m not into sitting around in a dirty flannelette shirt and steel caps getting hammered in the pub every night after work.’

  Emily found herself giving him a mental tick of approval. ‘So you left?’ she prompted.

  ‘Well, I did get my ticket – I’ve got this stubborn streak where I have to see things through,’ he said, smiling at her.

  ‘Ah, a qualified builder in the house – good to know,’ Emily said, grinning back at him. ‘Lucky for you this is only rented. Otherwise I’d find all sorts of jobs for you to do to pay your way,’ she teased good-naturedly, surprised at hearing herself. She couldn’t believe she was actually engaging in such banter. She’d known him less than twenty-four hours.

  ‘And I would certainly oblige,’ he said, doffing an invisible hat. ‘But seriously, it’s got heaps of potential. And not just as a house.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, with the plumbing already along the outer verandah, turning it into a B&B wouldn’t be too difficult, or a small restaurant. And with such nice big rooms it would make a great art gallery. The possibilities are endless, really.’

  Emily felt a little overwhelmed just thinking about it. ‘Hmm, lots to think about. So you’re a builder in Melbourne now?’

  ‘No. I actually run my own business – as an architect.’

  ‘Oh, wow.’

  ‘I realised I needed to create something of my own, not just follow someone else’s awful design. Although I do think training as a builder first made me a much better architect. It’s helpful when I’m on site and can talk the talk and walk the walk. You’ve no idea how much easier it makes dealing with tradesmen.’

  ‘Do you do commercial or residential?’

  ‘Bit of both, actually. To quote my website, I specialise in designing modern, sympathetic versions of older buildings where clients want old-world charm with modern conveniences. And I’m also a bit of a greenie, which fits in well because it means I can use wide eaves much of the time. The pioneers had the right idea with their expansive verandahs and breezeways. Sorry, now you’ve got me on my soapbox.’

  ‘No, it’s fascinating. I hate those boxy, bald-faced houses with square porches that seem to be popping up everywhere these days. Hopefully that trend will be over before it makes it out bush,’ she said. ‘That’s another good thing about country living,’ she added with a laugh. ‘We’re slow to adopt new trends.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Give me rickety and rustic over sleek and sophisticated any day.’

  They chuckled and then lapsed into silence.

  ‘Ah,’ Emily said suddenly, ‘so that explains your photographic interest in old buildings.’

  ‘Yes, I like to show the techniques they used to use. Some of the pictures are just corners of buildings on interesting angles; blown up they can look quite arty. When they started to sell at the market my ego got a fine stroking and I began fancying myself as a photographer …’

  Emily couldn’t imagine him being egotistical – he seemed far too down to earth.

  ‘So now I’m seeing what else I’m good at photographing. Another habit of mine is trying different things – pushing my boundaries.’

  ‘Which brings you out to little old Wattle Creek.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  At that moment, Elizabeth wandered back in with a towel wrapped around her head. ‘That really is a fabulous shower.’

  ‘I can’t believe how quick you were. I thought you city types spent ages under hot running water,’ Emily said with a tight laugh.

  Liz shrugged. ‘There’s been a drought on, hasn’t there? We’re under water restrictions in Melbour
ne too, you know.’

  ‘And our Liz is a bit of a greenie at heart too. Aren’t you, sweetie?’

  Emily flinched at hearing the term of endearment. ‘Really?’

  ‘I try to do my bit,’ Elizabeth said, looking a little uncomfortable.

  ‘Ah, she’s being far too modest. Your cousin here had me convert a small warehouse rather than buy one of those boxes we were talking about, even though it cost her nearly twice as much.’

  Chapter Forty-one

  Emily dumped her keys in the bowl on the old wooden chair in the hall and rushed down to the kitchen. They were an hour late and she really had to get the roast on or else suffer Enid’s silent – or not so silent – disapproval, which would depend on just how late dinner was and how much she liked – or didn’t like – the people in the room.

  She’d cut all the vegetables up and prepared the lamb that morning, but was now regretting her choice of meal. A roast was a cheap, easy and delicious way of feeding a group without having to spend all day in the kitchen, and had always been a family favourite with the Oliphants, but it would heat up the inside of the house – and that was something she wasn’t keen on. It was nearly thirty-five degrees outside.

  It was still definitely cooler inside, but not nearly as comfortable as it had been that morning. Hopefully the gully breeze would cool it down again overnight. Emily much preferred the cooler months – having to rug up rather than trying to stay cool.

  As she fired up the oven and took the lamb out of the fridge to bring it to room temperature, Emily wondered how cold the house would get in the middle of winter. She’d really have to get some kind of heating organised. Were the fireplaces in working order?

  They weren’t the most efficient form of heating, but she loved an open fire – sitting watching the flames flicker, listening to the gentle crackle, perhaps a glass of red wine in hand … It was so romantic. Well, it would be if you had someone to share it with.

  ‘Can I give you a hand?’ Jake asked, sauntering in. ‘I’m next in line for the bathroom, unless you want it first,’ he said, absently running a hand through the buttons, which were still on the tea towel at the end of the bench.

  ‘Oh shit, I’ve got to hide those. Can you grab the ice-cream container and bundle them in? Shove the whole lot into the cupboard under you, towel and all,’ Emily said, a little breathlessly.

  ‘Sure, but why?’

  ‘Just in case they’re not totally dry yet. I don’t want the leather bits going mouldy.’

  ‘No, I mean why are we hiding them?’

  ‘Mum doesn’t know I’ve got them, and I’d rather not tell her.’

  ‘Okay,’ Jake said, sounding sceptical.

  ‘She thinks I’m a sentimental fool, and the last thing I need tonight is her criticism,’ Emily said wearily as she strained the water that had been keeping the cut vegetables fresh all day.

  ‘Right.’ He still didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘You’ll see what I mean when you get to know her – probably not tonight though, because she’ll be on her best behaviour.’

  ‘You make it sound like I’m to become a permanent fixture around here,’ Jake teased.

  Emily blushed and turned so he couldn’t see. ‘You and Liz haven’t said how long you’re staying. For all I know, you are to be a permanent fixture,’ she shot back, still avoiding his eyes.

  At that moment Emily realised, with a bit of a shock, she couldn’t imagine living alone in the house again. They’d only been here a little over twenty-four hours, but their company made the house feel more homely.

  Well, if she was being honest with herself, it was Jake’s presence that she enjoyed the most. Not in a romantic sense – of course not – but not really in a brotherly sense either. He was just great company. Emily especially liked that they could have different opinions and hear each other out and then agree to disagree.

  Unlike with Liz. There had already been a couple of stark reminders of why they didn’t spend a lot of time together. At Barbara and David’s house that day, Liz had openly flirted with David and seemed quite hostile towards Barbara – as if she was jealous of her, for some reason.

  Within minutes Emily had regretted bringing them over. But Barbara had taken her aside while the others were talking and told her not to worry about it – it wasn’t up to Emily to account for her cousin’s behaviour. Emily was grateful, but continued to bristle for the rest of the afternoon.

  It had almost been worth it to see Jake so excited at the sites David took them to by four-wheel drive. And the photos he got were great – or so he said. Jake wouldn’t show them to anyone; he insisted he had to check them out on his laptop first.

  ‘Just call me a temperamental artist,’ he’d added, laughing, deflecting their pleas to see them right then and there.

  Emily found Elizabeth hard-going, but beyond a minor personality clash, she couldn’t put her finger on why. They weren’t what you’d consider great friends – they were family; that was it, really. But Liz was also a guest, and Emily was a good host, so she’d let her furniture be moved around at her cousin’s whim, and just cringed inwardly at the wildly exaggerated stories she told about Emily growing up.

  Emily took a deep breath. They’d had a long day, and she was just on edge because she had her mother to deal with. And she was tired. As good as it had been, their day had been jam-packed.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Liz asked, suddenly materialising in the kitchen.

  ‘Just putting these away. Apparently Enid Oliphant wouldn’t approve,’ Jake said, sliding the container into the open cupboard and closing the door. ‘Do you want to shower, Em, or should I go?’ Jake asked.

  ‘No, you go; I’ve got a few things to do here,’ Emily said. She was liking the way he said the shortened form of her name.

  ‘What can I do?’ Liz asked.

  ‘Actually, if you could set the table, that would be great – everything should be there on the bench. And would you mind doing a quick check that the rest of the house is presentable?’

  A few minutes later, the lamb was in, the table was set, and the vegetables were ready to put in in half an hour. The bread rolls would follow when the meat came out. Even the lemon pudding dessert was organised.

  It was really too warm for a hot dessert, but Emily figured she may as well cook one since she had the oven on anyway and the kitchen heated up as a result. She’d open the verandah doors later, when the cool of evening had settled in. With the front door also open, a nice gully breeze would flow through – and she’d keep the can of bug spray handy for any creepy-crawlies that came in with it.

  All she had left to do was have a shower and get dressed. And then relax with a fortifying drink before her parents arrived. Hopefully there would be enough time, and enough water – she had no idea what the ancient hot-water service’s capacity was.

  ‘Right, your turn.’

  Emily turned to find Jake standing at the kitchen door open to the verandah.

  ‘Wow, you were even quicker than Liz,’ she said, trying to drag her eyes away from his pale, bare torso, which had a nice patch of fine dark hair and was surprisingly muscular. She forced her imagination away from what was beneath the forest green towel around his waist.

  ‘Don’t want you being told off by your mother for being late.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Emily untied her apron and threw it onto the bench, and then bolted to her bedroom to get her robe.

  It’s like art, she told herself. Nice to look at, even if you had no intention of buying. The last thing she needed in her life was romance. As Emily dragged her robe from the doorknob, she wondered if she’d ever trust herself to have a relationship with a man again.

  Maybe. But not for a very, very long time.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Emily was back in the kitchen when the sound of crunching gravel signalled her parents’ arrival. Taking off her apron, she heard Elizabeth welcoming them in and introducing Jake. She listened at the kitchen door fo
r a few moments, out of sight.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jake. I hope you’re enjoying your visit,’ Des Oliphant said.

  ‘Yes thanks, Des. Emily has been a very gracious host.’

  ‘Ooh,’ Emily heard her mother coo. ‘Where has she been hiding you? Your mother must be pleased you’ve done so well, Elizabeth. She never mentioned you had such a lovely man.’

  Emily rolled her eyes at the absurd and blatant fawning, and chanced a look down the hall. The shock of what she saw made her retreat, frowning with confusion. Elizabeth was positively draped around Jake, every bit the doting girlfriend. Why? For whose benefit?

  ‘Emily, your parents are here,’ Elizabeth called.

  Emily forced a smile on her face, ran a quick, smoothing hand down her hair, and strode out into the hall.

  ‘Ah, here she is,’ her father said, meeting Emily halfway. ‘Something smells delicious,’ he said as he hugged her tightly.

  ‘Thanks Dad. Nothing too special, I’m afraid. Just a lamb roast.’

  ‘How can you say that when you know it’s my favourite?’ he said, giving her a final squeeze before letting her go.

  Enid Oliphant gripped both of Emily’s shoulders and air-kissed her from a distance of about six inches. As she let go, Enid gave her daughter a cursory inspection from top to bottom and back up again, ending with a slight frown as she let her go.

  It was always the same, and while Emily had come to expect it – even accept it – it still never failed to unsettle her. As much as she tried to force herself not to, Emily’s response was to always give herself the same critical appraisal, as she did now. Every time, she mentally kicked herself for taking the bait, but it didn’t help – next time she’d do the same thing. Without fail. And find herself lacking, again, without fail.

  ‘You didn’t tell me you had such a gorgeous visitor, Emily,’ Enid accused.

  ‘Shame on you, Emily,’ Elizabeth said quietly beside her, with a grin and a wink.

  Emily relaxed slightly. Ah, so Liz is playing games with my mother. That explains it.