by S R Silcox
“Wow,” Ren said, standing at the front of the yard, looking across the paddocks at the view beyond.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Amy would’ve loved it.”
Ren turned and smiled. “Yes, she would have.” She walked over and linked arms with Georgia. “Show me the cottage and tell me where we’re up to.”
Georgia took Ren around the back of the cottage, as that was the easiest way to access it now that it had been opened up. “This is the new part,” she said. “All the living areas will be here, as well as the new master suite.” She wandered through the open timber frames and stood where the master ensuite was going to be. “There’s going to be a huge picture window here.”
Ren nodded. “That’s going to be amazing. Tell me there’s going to be a big bath tub there to soak in.”
“I have to discuss that with Celia I suppose,” Georgia said, mentally adding it to the list.
Ren wandered in and sat down next to the external wall. “Can you imagine if you had a big claw foot tub right here with those old fancy taps?” She crossed her legs and lay back as if she were in a tub. “That’s what would sell the place.”
“Do you think so?” Georgia asked.
“Of course. You’re going for country luxury, aren’t you?”
“I guess so.” Georgia walked out of the ensuite and into the main part of the extension. “We’ll go through the original part of the house and then I want to show you something.”
“Oh? Sounds curious,” Ren said.
“I just want your opinion, that’s all.”
“Okay. Lead on,” Ren said, following Georgia around as she explained what they were planning with the original part of the cottage.
After they finished the tour, Georgia took Ren down into the shed and pulled back the tarp covering the old cast iron bath tub.
Ren drew in a breath and she leaned down and ran her hands along the edge of the tub. “Is that original?”
“I think so,” Georgia replied. “They want to know if I want to have it resurfaced and put back into the bathroom.”
“You said yes, didn’t you?” Ren asked.
“I didn’t know what Celia’s plans were,” Georgia replied.
“This would be perfect in front of that picture window in the master ensuite,” Ren said.
“You think so?”
“Of course I do,” Ren replied. “You’re nuts if you don’t put this back in.”
“What about Celia?”
“Just send her a picture of it and tell her it’s going in the ensuite. She’ll design everything else around it.”
Georgia nodded. “Okay. I’ll let Zoe know.”
“Speaking of Zoe,” Ren said, her eyes sparkling. “Why didn’t you introduce us at the shop?”
“You can meet her on Monday,” Georgia replied, turning away.
“I met her today,” Ren said. “Is there something going on I should know about?”
Georgia snorted out a laugh. “Far from it. You’ve heard me complaining about her the last week. She just gets on my nerves and I’d rather not see her outside of the build.”
Ren narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything more about it. Instead she said, “There’s one more thing I want to see.”
“What’s that?” Georgia asked, glad to change the topic.
“Where you destroyed the outback toilet.”
Georgia rolled her eyes and led Ren back out into the yard.
TWENTY-THREE
After Sunday lunch at Jack and Molly’s, Zoe decided she should probably make a start on packing up the old workshop. She knew avoiding it would only make things harder in the end, and when Jack, Molly and the kids offered to help, the decision was made easier. She had to leave enough tools and equipment for her final class before the move, as well as the doors and windows for Carramar, but everything else was going into boxes and ferried to the business shed.
Zoe was hesitant to accept Jack’s help initially, but he insisted on storing as much as would fit in the work shed until Zoe found somewhere else to put it all. Ryan and Josie helped as much as they could until Molly took them to her mother’s for afternoon tea. That left Zoe alone with Jack, neither of them talking much as they went about their work. Jack packed small tools into boxes while Zoe loaded her ute tray up with piles of timber and ferried them to the workshop.
They’d been at it for a few hours when they decided to break for a drink. When Zoe handed Jack a beer, he said, “We should toast to something.”
“Like what?” Zoe asked, twisting the cap off her bottle.
Jack held his bottle out. “How about to Dad?”
“And to all the stuff he built here,” Zoe added.
Jack smiled as they clinked their bottles and had a drink. They drank in amiable silence for a while until Jack said, “Do you remember the pranks dad used to play on us?”
Zoe smiled and nodded. “The fake finger he scared us with is still around here somewhere.”
“Is it?” Jack asked, surprised. “I thought that was lost years ago.
“I found it after he died. I was going to use it on Ryan but I never got around to it.”
Jack laughed into his beer. “Molly would kill you.”
“I know,” Zoe grinned. She took a long drink of her beer and let out a long breath. “I thought we’d always have this place.”
Jack nodded. “I thought you’d end up living here.”
Zoe snorted. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?” She looked up at the mezzanine floor. “Build that in up there, fireman’s pole to get back down, isn’t that what we said when we were kids?”
“Dad had a big piece of steel pipe to put up the pole, but Mum wouldn’t let him,” Jack said.
“Did he really?” Zoe asked, surprised.
Jack nodded. “She thought one of us would end up breaking our necks falling down the hole.”
Zoe smiled and shook her head. “She was probably right.”
“Yeah,” Jack replied. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “God I miss them.”
“Me too,” Zoe said. She leaned her head on her brother’s shoulder. “Eighteen years.”
Jack nodded. “Weather’s not looking too good Friday night. Are you still going out?”
“Bit of bad weather never stopped me before,” Zoe replied. Spending time by herself on the anniversary of her parents’ death was something Zoe had done without exception for the last seventeen years. She knew there was rain predicted for the coming week, with a storm possible by the weekend. If it rained, it would just match her mood.
She drained her beer and stood up. “No rest for the wicked,” she said.
Jack finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the bin. “I can give you another hour or so and then I’ll have to get home.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said, handing him a box. With a resigned sigh, she trudged up the stairs and started ferrying doors and window frames to her ute.
At a tick over six o’clock, Zoe decided it was finally time to call it quits. She’d been driving timber and tools and equipment from the workshop to the shed for the last few hours on her own, and now, with most of the small stuff gone, all that was really left was the big equipment and workbenches. She’d get Nick and a few of his mates to help out when it came time to move them.
She left Dallas’s dining setting in the corner of the workshop along with the pots of stain she was still deciding on. Zoe had also packed up some tools into an old toolbox her dad had made years ago, deciding to give Dallas her own set so she could hopefully keep on working on things in her own time. At least until Zoe got something else worked out.
She switched off the inside lights, pulled the heavy doors closed and locked them up. She had one last trip to unload at the shed and then she’d head home. As she turned the corner onto the main street, she saw Georgia and her friend weaving down the footpath. They looked like they’d had a skin full. The way they clung to each other, stumbling and laughing down the street, made a knot twist in Zoe’s
stomach.
When she stopped for a red light, she heard her name being called. She turned and looked out her window. The woman with Georgia was waving madly at her, calling out to her. What the hell? Georgia was trying to pull her friend’s arm down and cover her mouth with her free hand.
At least one thing was for certain. If Georgia was hungover tomorrow morning, Zoe might get a day at the cottage without her. Why did that thought not make her as happy as she thought she’d be? And why did the thought of Georgia Ballantyne having a partner and kids tie her stomach in knots?
The lights finally turned green and Zoe pulled away. She shook her head. “Bloody hell, Zoe, what is wrong with you?” she said out loud. She forced her eyes back to the road but as she turned the corner, she couldn’t resist a look in her rear vision mirror. Georgia’s friend was throwing up in a garden bed while Georgia’s eyes were firmly on Zoe as she drove away.
TWENTY-FOUR
Georgia wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Ren asked for a triple-shot coffee at the cafe on Monday morning and filled it with four teaspoons of sugar, and ordered a bacon and egg roll with double bacon. “One hangover cure coming up,” said BJ the barista with a grin.
“What makes you think I have a hangover?” Ren asked, squinting as she spoke.
“Caffeine and grease are the first things you crave when you’ve had a big night,” BJ replied. He pushed a menu across the counter. “We even call that breakfast The Hangover Cure.”
Georgia glanced at the menu and dug Ren in the ribs.
“You’re not the first,” BJ added with a wink and turned to make the coffees.
The graders had finished the road to the cottage, and although she still had to organise the proper roadworks, Georgia could at least take her own car to the cottage and not rely on Zoe. When they pulled up beside the sheds, Georgia was pleased to see the roof of the extension was half completed. It was starting to look like a real house.
“Looks like there’s not much we can do,” Ren said heading straight over to the shed where she proceeded to make her second coffee of the day. Things would get interesting once the caffeine kicked in, Georgia thought. She left Ren to recover in the shed and went in search of Zoe. Nick directed her to the roof, where Zoe and another builder were screwing down sheeting. Georgia waved to get Zoe’s attention and Zoe nodded in return.
Georgia went around to meet Zoe by the ladder, and when she climbed down, Zoe said, “Enjoy your sleep in?”
“I did, actually,” Georgia replied. “Although it wasn’t me that needed to stay in bed.”
They both looked across to the shed, where Ren had her coffee mug up to her nose, apparently inhaling her caffeine instead of drinking it.
“She didn’t look in good shape last night,” Zoe said.
“Winery tour,” Georgia said. “One of us was extremely happy to have some time away from their kids and went a little overboard.” She shielded her eyes as she glanced up at the cottage. “You’ve got a heap done already this morning.”
“It’s amazing how much you can get done when you don’t have people riding your arse,” Zoe said.
Georgia glanced at Zoe, expecting that seemingly permanent scowl but instead finding an amused look on her face.
“Very funny,” Georgia replied. “I came over to see what I can do today. I don’t know if you can count on Ren to be much help, but I can maybe get her to do something that’s doesn’t make her want to throw up.”
“You can undercoat the chamfer,” Zoe said. “If you want.”
“If I want?” Georgia asked, surprised. “So I have a choice?”
“Not really,” Zoe replied. “It’s that or go back into town to get the lunches.”
Georgia narrowed her eyes. Was Zoe trying to be funny? “I’ll paint the chamfer,” she said.
“Good,” Zoe replied. “Nick will show you where the brushes and paint are. Set up in the shed where you were sanding last week so you’re out of the sun. It’s going to get hot today.”
“Thanks,” Georgia said, unsure why Zoe would be concerned about the heat. And then she remembered that Zoe was the site boss which meant she should be thinking about all of that.
“Oh and ah, those clothes are much more appropriate,” Zoe said as she climbed back up the ladder.
“I’m glad you think so,” Georgia replied. She wasn’t sure why, but Zoe’s last comment made her smile.
With the roof completed just after lunch, Zoe informed Georgia that she wanted to start on installing the chamfer on the extension. Ren and Georgia had painted enough of it that they should be able to stay ahead, which meant that the job would go faster.
Ren took a break to grab a bottle of water and when she came back she said, “I can see why it’s so hard to be here every day.”
Georgia followed Ren’s gaze to where Zoe was working near the cottage on the drop saw. She’d taken off her shirt and was working in her singlet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Georgia said, watching Zoe longer than she probably should have.
Ren glanced at Georgia and dug her in the ribs. “Here I was thinking when you said the view was good, you meant the scenery.”
Georgia threatened Ren with a fully loaded paint brush. Ren ducked away and giggled.
“You can’t tell me your builder isn’t hot,” Ren said. She took a long drink of water and pressed the bottle to her forehead.
Georgia turned her attention back to the timber she was painting. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“What do you mean?” Ren asked.
“You’re straight, remember?” Georgia replied. “Not to mention married.”
Ren snorted. “I can appreciate good form when I see it, and that is good form.”
Georgia glanced up again, and Zoe was wiping the sweat from her forehead with the bottom of her singlet, showing off her abs. Zoe looked up at that exact moment and their eyes locked. Even from this distance, Georgia could see Zoe’s lips twitch up into a sly smile. Georgia’s breath caught in her throat.
“Hey, earth to Georgia,” Ren said, clicking her fingers in front of Georgia’s face.
“Huh?” Georgia said, bringing her attention back to Ren, who was grinning at her, eyebrows raised.
“Like I said,” Ren said. “Can’t complain about the view.”
Georgia rolled her eyes and got back to painting.
Moments later, Nick appeared in the doorway. “Just wanted to let you know that your tub is on its way to the Sunny Coast to get resurfaced. They’re not busy so they reckon it’ll only take a couple of days.”
“Thanks, Nick,” Georgia said.
“It’s going to look smick in that bathroom, hey?”
“It sure is,” Georgia replied.
“Righto. I better get back to it. See ya later.” Nick turned and headed back to the cottage.
“Smick,” Ren said, pulling a face.
Georgia laughed and risked a quick glance back to the cottage where Zoe was nailing the chamfer onto the cottage walls. The sight of her in that singlet, showing off her abs, stirred something in her stomach. She shook it off and got back to painting.
TWENTY-FIVE
Zoe wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and looked up at the sky. There were clouds forming to the west, which wasn’t surprising judging by the stickiness that hung in the air. A cool change and rain would be a welcome break.
With an hour to go, she and Nick started covering the holes where the windows were due to go with ply. She’d sent the frames she’d refurbished to the glazier that morning and wasn’t expecting them back until the end of the week. Without them, the extension was prone to getting wet. Closing them up with ply in the mean time would save them on clean-up if it did rain.
After they’d finished, Zoe sent Nick home. While he got everything sorted back at the work shed, Zoe could clean up on site. She was emptying out the hot water urn when a car pulled up outside the shed. She glanced up to see that it was Georgia. She was surp
rised that instead of being annoyed at Georgia turning up again right when she was about to head home, Zoe was happy to see her.
“Does the boss know you’re finishing early?” Georgia joked as she walked over to the shed and leaned on a post.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Zoe replied. She placed the urn in the lock box and wiped her hands on her jeans. “I didn’t expect to see you again today. How’s Ren?”
“Ren’s fine. I doubt she’ll be so eager to taste test liqueurs again though.”
Zoe grinned and nodded. “So, what brings you back out here?”
“I got an email from the interior designer asking for some photos of the progress,” Georgia explained. “I thought I better do it before I forget.”
“Right,” Zoe said. “Well, go for your life. I haven’t locked up yet. I’ll just hang around until you’re finished.”
“Thanks,” Georgia replied, and walked to the cottage.
“Actually,” Zoe said, calling after her. “Can I show you something?”
“Sounds intriguing,” Georgia said.
“Just an idea I had when Nick and I were working inside today,” Zoe explained.
“Okay, sure,” Georgia replied.
Zoe hooked her measuring tape onto her tool belt and followed Georgia to the cottage. For some reason, the argument they’d had last week had made them turn a corner. Maybe they could get through the rest of the build without killing each other after all.
Zoe gave Georgia some space as she wandered around the cottage, taking photos, kicking at the tape marking out the kitchen layout and typing into her phone.
“So,” Georgia said, finally. “What was this big idea of yours?”
Zoe walked over to the window in the dining room wall. “What would you think if we opened this up?”
“Like, a bigger window?” Georgia asked.
“Yes, we could do that,” Zoe replied. “But I don’t think a window takes advantage of the view.”
Georgia considered it for a moment. “It’s a little hard to picture with it covered like that.”
“Give me a sec,” Zoe said. She raced outside and grabbed a drill and a ladder and unscrewed the plywood covering the window. “How’s that?”