“I can’t tell you right now.” Leigh offered a cool smile.
“Off the record?” Nina clutched her own mug so hard the heat scorched her skin. “I won’t hold you to it, whatever it is.”
“It’s possible. I think you’ve got a reasonable chance of a fair outcome to the claim, and I know I could help you. And I like what you’re doing here. The kids, the animals.” She fell silent.
“Thank you.” Nina stretched out a hand impulsively and touched Leigh’s arm. “Really, thank you.”
Leigh’s skin was warm and so very soft. The sort of silkiness that came from exfoliation, body scrubs, massages, and expensive body lotions. The temptation to move her thumb in a tiny, caressing circle was strong. Just to see how it felt.
Nina quashed the thought as soon as it was formed. What the hell was she thinking? Leigh still had to agree to take them on first. Nothing could get in the way of that. She removed her hand. “I want to apologise for Phoebe’s rudeness. Phoe’s taken this whole claim thing very badly. She considered Billy her little buddy, and friends don’t do things like this to each other—at least not in Phoe’s world.”
“They do it all the time in mine.” Leigh picked up her mug and then, as if remembering it was only instant coffee, set it down again. “Friends, partners, business colleagues, co-workers. People can be the best of friends until there’s the chance of easy money on the horizon. Don’t worry about Phoebe. I get where she’s coming from.”
Leigh had intense eyes, a clear grey behind the thick-rimmed glasses. She met Nina’s eyes squarely every time, with no sideways slide of the gaze, no unwillingness or evasion. “Have you always worked here? Or did you have a different career before this?”
“I’ve been here since Gran left me Banksia Farm. I was nineteen, Phoebe was two, and I was struggling to look after her and study graphic design at TAFE. Gran knew I loved the place—I’d spent a lot of time here when I was a kid, as my parents travelled a lot and Gran cared for me. Gran also wanted me to have some security. She saw me battling as a single teen parent.”
“Is Phoebe’s father in the picture?”
“He sees Phoebe maybe once a month for a weekend, plus some holidays. Gino works in the mines in Western Australia. We’re good friends now.” Nina propped her chin on her hand. “We were high school sweethearts. I was sixteen when I got pregnant, and abortion wasn’t an option—not for me anyway.” She gazed at the ceiling, remembering how it was. “Italian Catholic family. My upbringing got in the way of me considering any other way out. But of course, now I’m so glad I have Phoe in my life. I realise what a cliché that is.”
“It’s a most common response.” Leigh took a large mouthful of coffee, as if the conversation had suddenly become uncomfortable.
“Do you have kids?” Leigh didn’t look to be the maternal type, but you never knew. She probably had 2.5 perfect children and a nanny.
“No, I don’t.” She set her cup down. “My career takes up so much of my time it wouldn’t be fair on a child. Maybe one day, although Grizz is constantly telling me about the joys of being child-free.”
“There are days when I totally get what she means.” Did Leigh have a partner? Someone as polished and glossy as her? No doubt someone with a high-profile career like Leigh. They’d sit in their sun-filled kitchen on weekends, sipping French coffee and reading briefs or dissertations or medical reports or whatever high-powered people did instead of flicking through the junk mail from the supermarket to see if there were any interesting special deals.
She’d been wool-gathering. Leigh watched her with that strange little half smile on her face.
“It’s not like you’re imagining.”
“What isn’t?” Surely, she can’t see into my head.
“My life. You’re envisaging me with a professional partner, a swift kiss on the cheek before we go our separate ways for our twelve-hour workdays, while our home help bustles around, cleaning the kitchen.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.” How did she know?
“If you say so.” That same small half smile.
Nina stared at the way her lips quirked up. No lipstick. Not today. Not that she could tell. Leigh’s lips must naturally be that soft shell pink. “Still, I’m sure you live somewhere very different from this.”
“Yes, I have an apartment. You’re lucky to have this oasis in Sydney. I can see the appeal of land.”
“Let’s hope I get to keep it.” Nina’s voice was small. Even in her own ears, she sounded defeated.
“Hey.” Leigh reached over the table, and her fingers briefly clasped Nina’s. “Don’t give up before we start.”
Nina stared at her. “We?”
“Slip of the tongue.” Leigh withdrew her fingers, and her manner slipped back into the distant professional. The brief accord of a moment ago had vanished like rain into parched ground. “Don’t read more into that, Nina. This has to be a business decision, not an emotional or personal one.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, but I need to head back to the office. I’ve done very little to help you this morning.”
“I don’t want to overwork you. You may be helping me with more important things than chickens.”
Leigh’s face was serious. “This morning was very satisfying. The physical work. I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but I did. Even if I can’t take you on pro bono, I would like to come back to volunteer again sometime. If you’ll let me. If I can make the time. As Grizz says, it’s good to get out of your comfort zone.” Her gaze searched Nina’s face. It was like being pinned by a spotlight.
“I’d like you to come.” Was that her voice, so croaky and feeble, far from her usual brisk tone? “I didn’t expect that. I thought you’d hate the manual work.”
“Being a lawyer can be very abstract. It’s very cerebral, all documents and arguments between barristers, and it often seems very removed from the people at the centre of a claim. This morning, though… There’s nothing abstract about chicken shit. It brought me back to basics. What’s real.”
Nina watched Leigh’s face. It was soft and wistful as if her mind was far away. She took a shallow breath. Was Banksia Farm working its magic on Leigh too? “You’re welcome anytime. Even if you can’t take on the claim.”
“Good.” Leigh glanced at her watch again, her voice back to its usual briskness. “Now that’s settled, if it’s all right with you, I’ll collect the eggs I left at the yard and leave. Do I need to arrange times for volunteering, or do I just turn up?”
“When you’re new, it’s better if you arrange times. That way, I can make sure there’s someone to instruct you.”
“That makes sense.” Leigh nodded. “Who does the instructing?”
“Me mostly. Phoebe sometimes—she knows what to do almost better than anyone. Or one of my long-time volunteers: Kiren, Geoff, Andi, and Ahmed. They’re the most regular. I’m sure you’ll meet them all if you keep coming.”
“I hope you’ll do more of my tuition.”
Nina stared. What does she mean?
“You’re a good instructor.”
Oh. Of course. “I’m sure I will. I probably do the most.” She stood. “Now, let’s get those eggs.”
The basket of eggs was where Leigh had left it. Nina found cartons, and they put the eggs in, making sure there was a mix of sizes and colours in each.
“Can I take two dozen?” Leigh asked. “Or is that selfish of me?”
“That’s fine.” Nina handed them over. “Twelve dollars, please.”
“My purse is in the car.”
They walked over to where the BMW sat in the sun, and Leigh found the money.
“Thank you for this.” She hesitated. “I know you need to know if I can take on the claim, and I’ll try and get an answer for you later today or tomorrow. Is that good enough?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
; Leigh nodded and patted the rear pocket of her shorts. “I took a copy of your waiver. I’ll take a look at it.”
The movement brought Nina’s gaze to Leigh’s rear—small but perfectly curved. No doubt honed by gym exercises designed to make it so. “That would be fabulous.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Suddenly, Leigh was brisk, back to curt professionalism despite her less-than-formal attire.
The BMW slid smoothly down the potholed driveway. Nina turned away. Could she let herself hope, just a little, that things would sort out? An image of Billy slipped into her mind—his face white with shock, his arm at an unnatural angle, the nonsense he had babbled. If Billy had lasting effects from the accident, then it wasn’t enough for it to work out for Banksia Farm. It had to be okay for Billy too.
Chapter 6
Leigh sat at her desk, Billy’s Notice of Claim in front of her. She stared at the printed words without seeing them. When the balance had tilted in Nina’s favour, she didn’t know. But sometime between collecting eggs and a mug of the worst coffee she’d had a in long time she’d found herself thinking not about whether she’d take the case but about how she’d defend it. She spread the Claim out on her desk.
Her shoulders and upper back ached from forking chicken manure. The manual work had been surprisingly pleasurable. The treadmill at her gym and the peppy aerobics class she took now seemed artificial. This morning, she’d worked her muscles, not purely for health, to keep fit, or so she could wear a sleeveless dress with pride, but for a greater purpose. Caring for animals, helping produce food, and, yes, working as part of a community. The glow of achievement still warmed her.
Leigh picked up one of the cartons of eggs and left her office. “Present for you.” She set the eggs on Grizz’s desk.
Grizz looked away from her computer. “Did these come from Banksia Farm?” She lifted the lid and touched one brown egg with a finger. “Thank you. Nothing nicer than fresh farm eggs.”
“Laid overnight by fat, brown hens, collected this morning by yours truly.” Leigh grinned at Grizz’s startled expression. “What did you think I was doing there?”
“I thought you might have changed your mind and not gone. Your diary said outside appointment. That’s code for anything nonlegal. When James puts that in his diary, it means a boozy lunch at the Press Club. You, though…”
“I know. I seldom do that. But I didn’t want James asking me about Banksia Farm before I’d made my decision. Hence the subterfuge.”
Grizz pushed her chair away from her desk and swivelled around to face Leigh. “So are we taking them on?”
“I talked to James this morning and said we’d do it.”
“Good. It’s not right that some of the most underprivileged kids in our city lose access to a community resource because of one kid.”
“I hoped you’d think like that, seeing as you have to commit the pro bono hours as well.”
“Lucky that I’m here early most mornings.”
“I’ll make it up to you. What James doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Happy to help, boss. And if there’s any reccies out to Banksia again, I’d like to come too. Be nice to see the place.”
“You got it. We need to examine this case thoroughly. Obviously, if Billy was hurt in a lasting way, then Nina will have to pay, in which case our aim is to find enough of a balance that the farm can continue.” Leigh turned to leave, then halted. “Fought any fires this morning?”
Grizz’s mouth turned down. “Only the usual. Eliza Merrins still refuses to talk to us. The investigation report is in on the Balfour matter, and it supports the other side. And these four messages need an urgent call back.”
“Of course they do. Thanks, Grizz.” She took the message slips.
“You’re welcome. Next coffee’s on you.”
Leigh went back to her own office. She took a quick perusal of the phone messages and returned two of the calls. She had to draft an advice for a new client, but Banksia Farm—and Nina—wormed their way back into her head. She fished out the waiver Nina had her sign. It was poorly done. She read through it slowly, rewording sections as she went, and added a few more. Grizz could tidy this up.
Grizz slipped into the office, laid a manila folder on the desk, and left without comment. The folder had Banksia Farm written on the outside.
Leigh picked up the folder and looked inside. It seemed that Grizz had pre-empted her decision to take on the farm. She had put together a to-do list. It included taking statements from Nina and Phoebe, plus talking to anyone who had worked on the paddock where Billy fell or who had dealings with the pony. There was also a pile of paperwork to be sent to Nina. All in all, it looked as if Grizz was on top of things.
Leigh set the folder aside and turned to her computer. In the meantime, there was other work, paying work, she had to attend to.
“Nina Pellegrini will be here tomorrow to give her statement.” Grizz’s heavy tread across the plush carpet made Leigh look up. “By herself.”
Leigh frowned. “I thought we wanted the daughter to come as well?”
Grizz set down her ever-present coffee mug. “We did. She won’t come.”
“Won’t or can’t? We can reschedule if it clashes with her schooling.”
“Won’t. Nina says Phoebe is refusing. She didn’t say why.”
Irritation flared, and Leigh tapped the blue legal pad with her pen. “Well, make her come in. We haven’t time to pander to schoolgirls. Maybe you could try. I’m not Phoebe’s favourite person.”
“I could take her statement over the phone. But we both know it works better face-to-face.”
“I’ll stress the importance of Phoebe’s statement when I see Nina tomorrow.”
Grizz nodded, her face implacable. “I’ve got the GP records for Billy Moran. I’m going through them now.” She headed for the door, then paused. “Are you still volunteering out there?”
“At Banksia Farm?” At Grizz’s nod, Leigh lifted a shoulder. “I intend to. But I’ve been busy.”
“Don’t put it off. The best volunteers are regular volunteers.”
“Do you volunteer for anything?” Leigh propped her chin on her hand.
“Sure. Bushland regeneration in the Blue Mountains every couple of months. Bryan does a day every so often for a charity that matches tradespeople with low-income people who can’t afford to maintain their homes. Plumbers are always in demand. Volunteering makes Australia go around. Makes things a bit more even.” Grizz left.
Leigh stared at the door where Grizz’s solid shape had been. Grizz was right; she should go back to Banksia Farm. She remembered how the fresh eggs had felt cupped in her hand: warm and fragile. Banksia Farm too needed that same protection. She would do her best for the farm—and for Nina.
“Would you like a cup of anything?” Grizz ushered Nina into Leigh’s office and stepped back.
“Thank you. Tea would be wonderful. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning.” Nina smiled at Grizz. “Black, no sugar, please.”
“You got it.” Grizz left.
Leigh studied her client across the desk. Nina looked different. Gone were the cheerful chain store clothes; Nina wore a black suit. A hint of cherry-red blouse showed underneath the jacket. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but there was definitely a hint of blusher on her cheeks, and her lips were stained a darker red. The dark clothes brought out her golden skin tones.
Her gaze must have lingered too long, as Nina sat straighter and drew her shoulders back. “Well? Do I pass muster?”
Leigh dropped her gaze to the desk. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was thinking how different you look.”
Nina pulled at the lapel of the jacket. “Yes, well.” Her chin lifted. “I felt very out of place the last times I came here. I’m not a business person. I don’t have business clothes, and I think that
made me stand out like…well, like dog’s balls.”
Leigh’s lips twitched at the colourful expression.
“When you came out to Banksia Farm—the second time—you’d made an effort to fit in. Oh, it wasn’t perfect—”
“I thought it was,” Leigh said, deadpan.
“Not far off. But beige shorts? Did you get the red dust out of them?”
“I’m working on it.” Leigh grinned. The shorts were ruined and had gone into the bin, but Nina didn’t need to know that.
“Then that’s a first. I suggest you wear something browner next time. Or that you can keep as farm clothes.”
Next time. Leigh picked up her pen and wrote Nina’s name on her legal pad. It bought her time. A few seconds.
“Anyway,” Nina said, “You’d made an attempt to fit into my world, so I’ve returned the effort. One of my volunteers, Kiren, is an office manager. She loaned me the clothes and advised on make-up.” She hunched her shoulders under the jacket. “I haven’t worn make-up since high school.”
“You look very professional. Very lovely.”
Lovely. Where the hell had that come from? It was unprofessional and, well, sort of creepy. The kind of comment a middle-aged man might say to his female junior assistant. Leigh gritted her teeth as if to bite back any more inappropriate comments.
“Thank you.” Nina’s smile reached her eyes, and some of the stiffness left her body. “I wasn’t sure. I feel a bit of an impostor in these clothes, to be honest.”
“Don’t. And I appreciate that you made the effort, but really, there’s no need on my behalf. I very much hope you didn’t feel judged by anyone in our firm the last time you were here.”
“Certainly not by you or Grizz. It was more to bolster my own confidence.” Nina sat straighter. “You want to take a statement, I think Grizz said.”
“Yes. Yours and Phoebe’s. I was expecting Phoebe to attend with you.”
A Heart This Big Page 7