Saving Grace Read online

  ‘This is the house,’ she told the puppy, as she walked through, opening and closing doors. ‘You’re not allowed in here, though, because you live outside,’ she explained to the solemn ball in the crook of her arm.

  Emily got a fright when she opened the lounge-room door to find John watching TV. She’d been so caught up organising Grace she hadn’t even thought to check if his vehicle was in the shed. She went to quickly shut the door again, hoping he hadn’t noticed her or the puppy. But she wasn’t quick enough.

  ‘What the hell is that thing doing inside?’ he bellowed. ‘Get it out!’

  ‘I was just showing her around. John, this is Grace; Gracie, this is John.’

  ‘Emily, for God’s sake, it’s not a child – it doesn’t understand what you’re saying!’

  ‘Shush, you’re scaring her,’ Emily said, stroking the bundle that was trying to push its way under her arm.

  ‘Just put it outside,’ he groaned.

  Emily did as she was told, but every time she tried to leave it, Grace would scratch and whine at the door. And every time, Emily would give in and sit with the puppy until it was settled again.

  She was still sitting with the pup later when the door suddenly opened, startling her. John stood in the doorway looking down at them. She rubbed her eyes, realising she must have nodded off in the lovely late afternoon sunshine.

  ‘Are you going to cook dinner or sit out here with that damn dog all night?’

  Her response was to uncross her jeans-clad legs and get up.

  ‘I knew I’d live to regret this,’ he said, shaking his head and turning on his heel.

  ‘Now, Gracie, I need you to be a good girl and stay here – quietly. I’ll be back a little later to check on you.’ She gave the puppy’s kinked ears a ruffle.

  Emily busied herself with fixing a dinner of grilled T-bone steak and steamed vegetables. She hoped Grace had had enough excitement to have finally dropped off to sleep. So far so good, she thought as she put the meals on the table and called John in from the lounge room.

  They ate in silence, except for John’s brief statement that none of Bill Angas’s kelpies had been suitable. He didn’t elaborate and Emily didn’t enquire further.

  She collected the plates and was turning to put them on the sink when something caught her eye. Grace had somehow got into the kitchen and was curled up under the meat safe cupboard against the end wall.

  ‘I’ll bring your dessert into the lounge,’ she told John, trying to sound nonchalant. He shot her a quizzical frown before pushing back from the table.

  He had to pass right by where the puppy was hidden, and Emily held her breath as he did. But just as he passed, the tip of the puppy’s tiny tail flopped out onto the dark stained floorboards.

  ‘And what do you think you’re doing?’ he asked, bending down and giving the white tip a gentle tug.

  Grace emerged from under the cupboard with a shy expression that seemed to convey both guilt and pride.

  Emily rushed over. ‘She must have come through the old cat door.’

  Grace was now looking gleefully up at them and wagging her little tail furiously. Emily leapt to the pup’s rescue, but John beat her to it, bending and scooping her up himself.

  ‘Well, aren’t you a clever little thing?’ he said, rubbing her taut belly. Grace let out a little burp and Emily and John chuckled.

  Emily was so relieved she could have cried. In their time together she had never seen her husband so doting. Maybe he would make an okay father after all, she thought wistfully as she watched him play with Grace.

  ‘Now, you, little monster, live outside – got it?’ he said, giving the pup’s belly a poke before handing her over awkwardly to Emily.

  ‘You’d better block up that damn cat door,’ he said as he left the kitchen.

  Emily sighed. What was she expecting: that he’d crumble and agree to the puppy sleeping at the end of their bed? Well, yes. That was exactly what she’d been hoping for.

  ‘Sorry, little one. You heard him, outside for you,’ she said, and reluctantly took Grace back outside.

  Grace’s first night was a disaster. Having apparently searched the verandah that wrapped around the house and found the door nearest the master bedroom, she whined and scratched for hours before Emily, fearful that John would completely lose his temper, took a thick coat and rug and joined her outside. Thankfully it wasn’t one of the unseasonably chilly nights they’d been having lately.

  ‘We can’t have a repeat of that performance tonight,’ John announced the next morning upon finding Emily curled up on the pet bed with Grace.

  ‘She has to get used to being alone. Poor little thing has always had her mum.’

  ‘Well, how’s she going to do that if you keep giving in to her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ a tired Emily confessed with a sigh. She was beginning to wonder if she’d done the wrong thing taking on a puppy.

  When John headed out to check the sheep, Emily took Grace into the lounge and plonked her on one of the chairs while she lay down for a catnap on the three-seater couch.

  ‘Please, just stay put,’ she said. ‘And don’t you dare wee or poo anywhere – John will kill us both.’

  A little later the phone began to ring. Emily tried to ignore it, but it got the better of her, and she eased herself to her feet. She smiled at seeing Grace curled up and sleeping soundly on the chair.

  ‘Hello,’ she said quietly, after picking up the portable phone from the small table. She went back into the lounge.

  ‘Hi, Emily? It’s Barbara Burton.’

  Shit, Emily thought, frantically checking her watch – it was almost lunchtime.

  ‘Barbara, hi, sorry I haven’t got around to calling you yet …’

  ‘It’s fine. Listen, sorry if I’m being pushy, but I wanted to know how little Gracie’s first night went.’

  ‘Not very well, I’m afraid,’ Emily replied. ‘Actually, we were just having a nap. She’s meant to be outside – John would kill both of us if he knew she was in the lounge – but it’s the only peace I’ve had. She scratched and howled all night until I joined her. I’m a bit of a pushover, I’m afraid,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘Poor little thing must be missing her mum.’

  ‘Any suggestions, Barbara?’

  ‘David’s the dog man, but I’m a softie like you – I’d have her inside.’

  ‘Not an option – John won’t have it.’

  ‘Well, there’s an electric blanket we sometimes use. It’s got a pulse that’s meant to simulate a heartbeat. I can bring it over if you like – I have to go into town anyway.’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

  ‘It’s no trouble.’

  ‘Well, I could do with the help – I’m afraid if we have another sleepless night John will insist I get rid of her.’ Or worse.

  ‘We can’t have that. Shall we say two o’clock, then?’

  ‘As long as you’re happy to drive out here – I could always meet you in town.’

  ‘No, this way I can help you set the blanket up and see if I can offer any other suggestions.’

  ‘Okay, great, I look forward to seeing you then.’

  ‘See you then.’

  ‘Come on, you, we’ve got things to do,’ Emily called to the slumbering puppy, who responded by opening her eyes and giving a big yawn. Reluctantly Grace stood up, stretched, hopped off the chair and followed Emily into the kitchen.

  ‘You sit down there under the cupboard you seem to like so much,’ she said, pointing to the meat safe. Grace obliged her by making her way under and getting comfortable. Emily couldn’t believe the dog had done as it was told.

  She busied herself with making a date loaf for afternoon tea, and then preparing sandwiches for lunch while it was in the oven.

  She’d fully intended on sending Grace outside well before John came in for lunch, but the puppy was so quiet, tucked almost out of sight, it completely slipped her mind. />
  ‘Emily, the condition of you getting a puppy was that it would live outside,’ he said, entering the kitchen and again spying the tip of Grace’s tail poking out from under the cupboard.

  ‘I know. Barbara Burton rang. She’s bringing a blanket with a heartbeat. Hopefully Grace will think it’s her mother and be happy to stay outside on her own from now on. I think she just wants the company.’

  ‘Of course it does – you’re being pathetic. Just stop giving in to it!’

  Chapter Six

  ‘What a gorgeous setting!’ Barbara exclaimed upon her arrival. ‘You are so lucky to have lovely big gum trees all around you – the mallee scrub at our place really doesn’t have the same grand effect. What’s the story with the cottage across the way? It would be just gorgeous done up.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s what I keep telling John. But apparently it’s a knockdown job.’

  ‘Oh no, you can’t let that happen. There’s so much potential. It could be an art gallery, or an artist’s or writer’s studio – not that I’m either; I’m just being a silly romantic.’

  ‘I thought it would actually make a great B&B. Far enough away from the house for privacy, but close enough to service.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right – it would be brilliant! Come on, I must have a closer look,’ Barbara said, already halfway back out the door.

  They walked across to the steel mesh gate into the paddock, which Emily opened. Grace was panting heavily, having struggled to keep up, and she flopped down in the paddock while Emily shut the gate after Barbara.

  Thankfully this was one of the easy ones, not the wire ‘cocky’ gates that could be tricky to operate. Even though she hadn’t been raised on a farm, Emily knew to leave a gate exactly as she found it. Not to do so was practically a hanging offence in the country.

  They reached the ruined cottage, and Barbara’s excitement increased. ‘Oh, wow, what gorgeous tiles,’ she said, squatting down to look more closely at the tessellated verandah. ‘It’s in amazing condition, considering.’

  ‘There are a heap missing up the far end,’ Emily said.

  ‘They’re making them again, so you could easily replace them. I had to get some new ones for our verandah, and apart from looking a little newer and shinier, you can hardly notice.’

  They wandered through the derelict building and the area around it, where fallen limestone and bricks lay about in piles here and there, each offering comments and suggestions.

  ‘These floorboards are still pretty good too, considering the state of the roof. And I can’t believe the fireplace mantle is still here,’ Barbara said, running a hand over the grey, weathered timber surface.

  ‘Hmm,’ Emily said wistfully. The more enthusiasm Barbara showed, the more despondent she felt.

  ‘It’s such a pity John doesn’t share your passion. What if you showed him your ideas, like took cuttings from magazines or photos of other old cottages done up?’

  ‘I did – it didn’t work. He reckons the hayshed is going here when he gets around to it.’

  ‘Aren’t there, like, thousands of other acres he could choose from?’ Barbara asked, looking around her.

  ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to hope it takes him ages to get around to it.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Back at the house they enjoyed a few moments of silence sipping their coffees and savouring the rich nutty cake liberally spread with butter.

  ‘This is divine – is it the date loaf from the CWA book?’

  ‘Yes, with a bit of tweaking.’

  ‘I’ve never made it. I’ve had it heaps of times, but never as good as this. What is it you’ve tweaked – or will you then have to kill me?’

  ‘No,’ Emily laughed. ‘I just double the dates, walnuts and golden syrup. I find the CWA recipes are often a bit stingy. Maybe because the old dears who wrote them went through the Depression – or wrote them during it. I quadruple the cocoa for the Two Minute Chocolate Cake, otherwise it’s quite anaemic looking and bland.’

  Just then they heard the sliding back door, and turned as John strode into the kitchen.

  ‘Hello, you must be David’s wife. John Stratten,’ he said, offering his hand, which Barbara accepted. ‘Come to sort out the wretched puppy, I hope.’

  ‘I hope so. Emily told me you had a pretty disturbed night.’

  ‘Emily, how many times do I have to tell you? The dog is to be kept outside,’ he said, poking at the tail protruding from under the meat safe with his foot. ‘You’re just making it harder for it – and yourself, for that matter.’

  ‘I’d better get going,’ Barbara said, getting up. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a hand setting up the blanket before I go. Nice to meet you, John.’

  ‘Yes, goodbye.’

  Out on the verandah, Barbara cast her eyes around where Emily had set up Grace’s things. ‘I think a basket with sides she could snuggle against might be better. And couldn’t she be just inside the door here?’

  ‘You heard him – dogs are for outside.’

  ‘But if the blanket got wet she’d be electrocuted.’

  ‘Don’t give him any ideas.’

  ‘She’s just so exposed out here. That’s pretty terrifying for a pup who’s just left her mum.’

  ‘I know, but I think the shed would be worse – too far away.’

  ‘Yes, you’re her mum now; she needs to know you’re close at hand and she’s safe. I hate the thought of her being miserable.’

  ‘Me too.’ Emily bit her lip for a moment, then made a decision. Speaking almost in a whisper, she said to Barbara, ‘Look, I’m going to take the risk. Let’s set her up inside here – just by that power point – and hope John comes around. When she’s a little bigger I’ll try to retrain her to live outside.’

  ‘Blame me,’ Barbara offered. ‘Tell him I said she’s too little to be outside on her own just yet.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d have her at the end of the bed if I had any choice about it.’

  ‘You and me both,’ Barbara agreed. ‘I’d better get cracking. Thanks for a lovely few hours – let’s do it again soon.’

  ‘Yes. And thanks again for the blanket. I’ll return it as soon as I can.’

  ‘Hopefully it will do the trick.’

  Emily saw Barbara out to her car, where they hugged like old friends. Emily almost skipped on her way back into the house.

  She fed Grace and stood for a few moments watching the dog tuck in to her dinner. She already seemed much more content for being inside.

  When Emily returned to the kitchen, John looked up from the newspaper. ‘Hope you’ve got the damn dog sorted out. I want to get some sleep tonight.’

  ‘We’ve put her just inside the door at the end of the verandah. Barbara thinks she’s a bit little yet to be outside on her own.’

  ‘Well, she would, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘All you bloody women are the same – weak as piss.’

  Chapter Seven

  When Emily awoke the next morning, the sun was beginning to peep through the small gap in the bedroom curtains. She was a little surprised to have, apparently, enjoyed an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

  The electric blanket must have done the trick; that or Grace being inside rather than out. Either way, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that her husband was still sleeping soundly beside her, snores vibrating from his loose lips.

  Unable to quite believe Grace could still be asleep, Emily stretched slightly and eased herself up. But something caused her to look down before putting her feet onto the floor: two tiny black eyes blinked back at her from where the puppy lay curled up beside the bed.

  Realising she finally had conscious company, Grace slapped her tail lightly on the carpeted floor and then sat up at attention. Emily held a silencing finger to her lips, to which the puppy responded with a tilt of her little head. She got out of bed, pulled her robe from the end, scooped Grace int
o its folds, and practically bolted from the room. As she closed the door she heard John stir and mutter something unintelligible.

  ‘I should be telling you off, you naughty little thing,’ she said sternly to the puppy, which was now fidgeting playfully with the terry towelling fabric wrapped around it. ‘But you’re just far too cute.’

  As she pulled the tin of puppy food from the fridge and grabbed a spoon, she wondered how long Grace had been in the bedroom. Thank God she hadn’t jumped on the bed, she thought with relief.

  ‘What am I going to do with you?’ she said as she sat cross-legged on the floor watching Grace devour her breakfast. Let’s just hope there aren’t any nasty surprises lurking on the carpet, she thought, and got up to check while the puppy was busy eating.

  Emily was in the dining room when John appeared in the doorway yawning and rubbing his head. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Just looking for, um, my book – I’m not sure where I left it.’

  ‘Well, it would hardly be in the dining room, now would it?’

  ‘I vaguely remember putting it down somewhere.’

  ‘You’ll find it eventually. Come back to bed,’ he urged, pulling at the tie on her robe.

  ‘I, er, just have to check on Grace.’

  ‘She’s fine – was just finishing eating. I turfed her outside and shut the door. Thank God she let us get some sleep last night. Now come on, I’ve got something for you,’ he said, suggestively.

  Emily cringed as she allowed herself to be steered back to bed.

  A few minutes later a series of barks and whines came from outside the bedroom window.

  ‘Damn dog. It managed to sleep all night alone …’

  ‘Just ignore her,’ Emily urged in a whisper from underneath John, hoping he wouldn’t put two and two together.

  Emily waited until she saw John driving away from the house before phoning Barbara.

  ‘Hi Barbara, it’s me, Emily.’

  ‘Hi Emily. Did our little Gracie enjoy her blanket?’