Saving Grace Read online

  Emily returned to the house an hour later, feeling a little hot and sweaty, but on the whole, much better. She was startled to find Barbara sitting at her kitchen table. Grace trotted in to meet their guest.

  ‘You really ought to lock up when you go out – I could have been anyone!’ Barbara said with a grin, looking up from the magazine on the table in front of her. ‘Hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to a coffee – didn’t know how long you’d be. I could do with another – can I get you one?’ she said, rising.

  ‘Oh, Barbara, you have no idea how good it is to see you,’ Emily said, a sudden rush of emotion causing her eyes to fill. The friends hugged.

  ‘Are you feeling a bit sad and lost now the house is empty again?’ Barbara asked kindly.

  ‘I am a bit. It’s weird, though, Liz drove me nuts, but here I am being all depressed now she’s gone.’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised you’re pining for Jake – bit of a dish, that one.’

  Emily blushed slightly. ‘Knowing my luck he’s probably gay. Either that or there’s something going on between him and Liz. You should have seen her the other night when Mum and Dad were here.’

  ‘I know she’s your cousin, but I reckon she could be trouble if she wanted to be.’

  ‘Hmm, funny you should say that. Mum always called Liz “Trouble with a capital T”. Never thought she and I would agree on anything. And I’m sorry she was so rude the other day – I have no idea what that was all about.’

  ‘Bit of insecurity, I suppose. For some reason she saw me as a threat,’ Barbara said with a shrug. ‘Doesn’t matter, and you shouldn’t have to apologise for her – she’s an adult and you’re not her bloody mother! Speaking of which, what did she do when your parents were over?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. She was all over Jake – literally draped over him – calling him “sweetie” this and “sweetie” that. The poor bloke didn’t know where to look half the time. He seemed genuinely embarrassed, even a little annoyed.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then. He’s a free agent.’

  ‘But if they’re not an item, why would she pretend they were?’

  ‘Two reasons spring to mind. One, she’s just messing with your head. Two, wishful thinking on her part – he’s a pretty good catch, remember. There’s probably a mix of both, but having spent a day with her – and no offence – I’d put my money on option one. She’s just messing with you, probably because she has some insecurity where you’re concerned.’

  ‘What?! How the hell could I make Elizabeth feel insecure? She’s a successful, I don’t know, corporate-somebody-or-other, has a brilliant life, tonnes of friends, eats out all the time, shops whenever she wants … And here I am, unemployed, barely able to pay my miniscule rent, and with little hope of the situation improving any time soon.’

  Barbara shrugged. ‘Just a thought. And anyway, Em, really, you need to lighten up on yourself. If you live on the smell of an oily rag – which we all do out here – your money will last for ages. Be thankful you don’t have all the shops and restaurants to tempt you. Enjoy the freedom while you have it – that would be my advice. Get a hobby, fill your time with things you enjoy – like making jam and baking.’

  ‘I guess.’ Emily was doubtful.

  ‘Seriously, don’t compare your life to your cousin’s. Usually we only ever know what people want us to know about them. For all you know her credit cards are maxed out and she’s barely affording her mortgage. I’m not saying it’s the case, but things aren’t always what they seem.’

  ‘Hmm. Hey, speaking of jam, you won’t believe this, but Jake took twenty jars, he loved it so much. He’s going to try and sell it at a Melbourne market.’

  ‘Wow, that’s great. Maybe you won’t need a job after all.’

  ‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Emily said with a laugh. ‘One box of jam does not a millionairess make. They might not even sell.’

  ‘Don’t they say just turning up is half the battle won? So, anyway, when will they be back in Melbourne?’ Barbara asked.

  ‘Friday or Saturday night, I think. Why?’

  ‘Well, that’s when Jake will ring you – you gave him your number, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. He’s going to let me know how the jam goes – but that won’t be until Sunday at the earliest. More likely the following weekend.’

  ‘Oh, trust me, he’ll ring you the night he gets home,’ Barbara said.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘He’ll no doubt use the excuse that he’s just got home and had a piece of toast with your jam on it, or something, and wanted to say how much he liked it again. Though, I could be wrong – he might ring you in a day or so to thank you again for having him stay.’

  ‘You’re making it sound like he’s going to ask me out or something.’ She laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s gay, Barbara.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Emily. Have you even looked at him? If Jake’s gay then I’m the Queen of Sheba. You’re just trying to stop yourself from developing romantic feelings for him – which is only to be expected, given what you’ve been through.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘There’s no maybe about it. Your subconscious knows it’s far too soon for you to consider getting involved with another man, and it’s protecting you. But at the same time, it’s letting you get distracted to take your mind off John and all the other crap that’s not so good in your life right now.’

  ‘So, if I follow your logic, the universe has sent me Jake so I can be distracted but can’t get involved with him and get hurt?’ I suppose it makes sense.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Barbara, you are so wasted out here as a farmer’s wife. You should be a psychologist or something.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but then I’d have to bite my tongue instead of telling clients to just get over it. I did seriously consider psychology once, but the short stint I did as a hairdresser was bad enough. So are we putting, say, five dollars on Jake calling Friday or Saturday night when he gets home, or not?’ Barbara asked.

  ‘Well, I think he’ll wait until after the market this Sunday or the following one – but I’ll happily take your five dollars,’ Emily said, full of conviction.

  ‘Right, you’re on.’ They shook. ‘Honestly, Em, regardless of what happens, I think Jake could be a really good friend to you. David liked him too, thought he was a really nice bloke.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘You know, I wish we’d been able to have the townsfolk see you and Jake hanging out – now that would have set tongues wagging,’ Barbara added with a chuckle.

  ‘Well, we did go to Charity Flat yesterday. Word is bound to filter back. But Liz was with us, so I guess they’ll assume they’re together.’

  ‘Oh well, maybe next time.’

  ‘If there is a next time.’

  ‘Oh, there’ll be a next time,’ Barbara said.

  Emily raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you psychic as well?’

  ‘Maybe. You’ll have to wait and see.’

  They laughed, and Emily thought again how lucky she was to have Barbara as a friend.

  ‘So, what’s been happening in your life?’

  ‘Well, David’s dad isn’t well. He’s probably going to drop off the perch any day now …’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. You only just got back from your mum, and now this. Is David okay?’

  ‘You know men and hiding their feelings. He’s a little sad, but I think he’ll be relieved when it finally happens. The old darling’s been miserable up in the old folks’ home since David’s mum, Beth, died last year. It’s not much of a life when you’re ninety-six, deaf, half-blind and lonely. I don’t know if it’s worse for him or us, seeing him like that.’

  Emily couldn’t help but think of Granny Mayfair.

  ‘It’s like a switch was flicked. Almost overnight he became frail and sickly. Even lost interest in coming out to the farm. It’s like he just gave up when Beth died.’

&nbs
p; ‘And they say a broken heart can’t kill you,’ Emily said wistfully.

  ‘Well, whoever said it didn’t have the elderly in mind. I reckon I’d be the same. I wouldn’t want to live without David – it would seem pointless. We really are just so lucky to completely adore each other.’

  ‘Yes, you’re so lucky,’ Emily said quietly.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rub it in.’

  ‘You didn’t. And why should you apologise for being happy? Yes, I’m sad that my own marriage didn’t work, but at least seeing you guys gives me hope. Maybe it could even happen to me one day.’

  ‘It will happen, Em. You just need to believe that. Meanwhile, do your best to pick up the pieces and regain your strength.’

  ‘Thanks for being such a good friend.’

  ‘Thank you. Just because my life isn’t in the turmoil yours is at the moment doesn’t mean I don’t need and treasure your friendship. And now, please change the subject before I get all sad and weepy!’ Barbara said with a laugh. ‘Did you find anything interesting at Charity Flat? I haven’t been up for ages. Is it worth us doing a trip of our own?’

  ‘Yes, but I’d rather pop across to Hope Springs first – I haven’t been there for ages either. Well, except for visiting my parents, but that doesn’t really count.’

  ‘No, I quite agree. What about tomorrow? Leave early – say, just after lunch – and do some groceries and collect the mail on the way back through Wattle Creek?’

  ‘Sounds brilliant. I just hope Mum is safely tucked away in someone’s house.’

  ‘Best we take my car, then, so no one spots yours and tells her you were in town.’

  ‘Thanks, I really appreciate it.’

  They made their arrangements and then Barbara set off. Emily spent the rest of the day rearranging the furniture and knick-knacks Elizabeth had moved, conceding that she was more doing it out of stubborn principle than anything else. Liz had good taste when it came to interior decorating, but it was Emily’s house so she’d damn well have her things where she wanted them! It would be different if her cousin had made suggestions or asked before making changes. But she hadn’t, and that irked Emily.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Emily felt a sense of calm as they turned the corner of the long driveway and drove towards the stand of gums. It really was starting to feel like home. She and Barbara had had a great few hours in Hope Springs, browsing the combined gift shop-café-art gallery and enjoying an inexpensive lunch of chicken salad and crusty bread.

  Barbara had bought a lovely soft upholstered pyramid-shaped doorstop with a tassel. There was another one that would have been perfect for Emily’s front door, but she hadn’t been able to justify the fifty-dollar price. Maybe one day. Meanwhile, she’d continue using the brick she’d wrapped in fabric to protect the floor and door from being scratched.

  On the way back they’d stopped in at Wattle Creek for their groceries, because it was easier than having to figure out the layout of a different supermarket.

  That day many of the usual people were in the street, but those she’d once chatted excitedly with about the rain and promise of a good season, or commiserated with on the drought and falling grain prices, didn’t even acknowledge her presence beyond a curt nod.

  Until recently, she’d thought of them as friends. But friends were people you could rely upon in times of need, who supported but didn’t judge. It was with a bit of a shock that Emily realised that the only friends she really had were Barbara and David. These other people had only ever been acquaintances. And when they’d had the opportunity to step into the role of true friend, they’d failed. Every last one of them. Most of them couldn’t even look her in the eye. Why? Was it that they didn’t want to be seen taking sides? Or was it simply that they didn’t know what to say to her?

  ‘Not sure what I prefer,’ she said to Barbara, ‘the whispering and pointing, or being totally ignored.’ She let out a tight laugh.

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘I can see why people become reclusive. If I could order online and have everything delivered, I wouldn’t ever need to go to town.’

  ‘Then they would have won. You’re not doing anything wrong, Em. You left a husband who didn’t treat you right. You didn’t bloody shoot him!’

  ‘Only because he’s not worth going to prison for.’

  ‘Well, if you become a recluse, he’s effectively put you in prison, anyway. You realise that, don’t you?’

  ‘I suppose. Isn’t it funny how small country towns are portrayed as the epitome of mateship, the Aussie spirit, banding together in times of catastrophe – blah, blah, blah. If only people knew how cruel and oppressive the postcard-picture-perfect little town can be.’

  ‘Thinking of leaving?’

  ‘Nah. Where else could I rent a house for a hundred bucks a week, including electricity? Anyway, I wouldn’t want to give them the satisfaction.’

  ‘Good to hear,’ Barbara said, giving her friend’s leg a pat.

  ‘But I might still consider becoming a recluse.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Barbara said, playing along, ‘but for that you will need a computer, internet connection and a supermarket that delivers out in the sticks. And I doubt old Mr Barnes at the IGA is about to embrace the world wide web any time soon – he’s coming up on ninety, according to the notice in the paper last week.’

  ‘Well, one can dream. Anyway, didn’t you once offer to do my groceries for me?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Yes, but only as a temporary measure. I will not be responsible for you becoming the scary old axe-wielding hermit who boils up small children in her cauldron in the woods.’

  ‘I’ll have to think of something else, won’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you will!’

  ‘Though it would give them something interesting to say about me. It might be fun to become a proper urban myth.’

  ‘And have teenage boys wandering around all the time as part of initiation pranks and dares?’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. Scrap that,’ Emily said.

  ‘You know,’ Barbara said thoughtfully, stopping the car in front of the house and turning to look at Emily with a serious expression. ‘If you became successful, really successful, outside the district, say, interstate – like Melbourne – that would be the best way to get back at everyone.’

  ‘You mean by becoming the Jam Queen?’

  ‘Why not? Maggie Beer started small, and look at her.’

  Emily rolled her eyes at her friend. ‘A friend of a relative bought twenty jars of jam – that’s hardly worth noting. It’s even worse than a friend of a friend.’

  ‘Regardless of who it was, it technically makes you a professional – because money changed hands.’

  ‘Probably only out of pity.’

  ‘Well, you can think what you like,’ Barbara said, ‘but Jake didn’t strike me as the sort of fellow who says things he doesn’t mean.’

  ‘Are you coming in for a cuppa or do you have to get going?’ Emily asked with her hand on the door handle of the car.

  ‘Thanks, but I’d better get going. I need to water the roses.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll see you later.’ As she gave her friend a quick hug, Emily hoped she hadn’t annoyed her by being so negative. She was just being realistic, wasn’t she? No point setting your expectations too high and being disappointed, right?

  Nonetheless, as she waved Barbara off, Emily vowed to try to be more positive.

  She propped open the front door and left the two bags of groceries in the cool of the hall while she went to let Grace out of the yard. She was relieved to find her lying in the shade looking resigned to being contained, but not unhappy.

  She hated leaving her alone, but decided she’d have to start doing so unless she was going to end up with a totally neurotic dog who would work herself into a frenzy at the very thought of being left. It had been David’s suggestion, delivered via Barbara. Apparently you had to be a little cruel now to be kind later.

  ‘Sor
ry girl, Uncle David insisted,’ Emily told the dog as she opened the gate. It sure made it a lot easier having someone else to blame!

  As she stood watching Grace racing about enjoying her renewed freedom, Emily’s thoughts went back to Barbara. She had been absolutely right when she’d said John had eroded her self-confidence. She was only now realising to what extent. At their wedding, Aunt Peggy had described Emily as a self-assured, confident young woman who knew what she wanted and set about making it happen. What had happened to that Emily? She had to find her again.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  On Friday night, Emily was surprised to hear her mobile vibrate on the chair beside her and indicate she had received a text message. It was just before nine o’clock at night. She’d gone to bed extra early and had lost two hours to the book she’d settled in with, which was almost finished.

  Her heart leapt as she remembered the bet she’d made with Barbara over when Jake would call. Did a text count? Would he text instead? She hoped not; it was so impersonal.

  Emily thought to ignore the phone and get back to her novel, but curiosity got the better of her. The number on the screen was unfamiliar. She opened her inbox to find a striking image of her jars of bright orange jam lined up in rows on a pale stone bench top. Beneath was the simple message: All arrived safe and sound. Jake.

  Emily frowned slightly, wondering why he’d felt the need to reassure her – it was only jam, for goodness sake!

  It felt weird to know he was somewhere, almost on the other side of the country, looking at his phone just like she was. Was he out to dinner with a group of friends? Out with someone special? Just passing time at home? Alone?

  What should she say in return? That’s great? She sat back to try to think of something better. She’d rather just speak to him, but that might look desperate, and anyway, she really couldn’t afford to be making unnecessary calls.

  She settled for Thank you, and started looking for the letters and putting them in one by one.

  What she really wanted to say was that she was glad he had got back safely, that she missed him and that the house was feeling strangely empty without him. But she certainly wasn’t about to get into anything personal – she had no idea where he was or who he was with. Anyway, she hardly knew him. He was probably just making contact out of politeness, not because he was interested in her.