by S R Silcox
Georgia’s face appeared in the window frame. “Better.”
Zoe leaned the plywood on the side of the cottage and went back inside. She stood back where the kitchen was mapped out. “You can’t see much from here,” she said.
Georgia backed away from the window and stood beside Zoe. “I guess.”
Without thinking, Zoe grabbed Georgia by the shoulders and pushed her forward a few steps, closer to the window. “If we open it up some more, the view will get heaps better.”
Georgia nodded slowly, and moved forward a few more steps. “And if we open it up with a floor to ceiling window, it will get even better.”
“Or,” Zoe said, glad that Georgia was getting what she was talking about. “What about, and this is something you’d have to talk to the designer about, but we could do French doors.” She glanced sideways at Georgia, who cocked her head and then turned and looked at Zoe, a smile playing on her lips.
“Could we do that? Put in doors instead of a window?” Georgia asked.
“Sure,” Zoe shrugged. “While we’re still at the frame stage, anything’s possible. Like I said though, any changes like that will add a few days to the end date.”
“I actually think that would be amazing,” Georgia said. “But we’d have to put a veranda or something out there, wouldn’t we??”
“That would be the idea,” Zoe confirmed. “That would create a whole extra living area.”
“Would it add much to the budget?” Georgia asked.
“Not much,” Zoe replied. “We already have most of the materials and we’ve got plenty of reclaimed wood at the shed.”
“Okay,” Georgia said. “Would we need to get permission from council? If it’s going to get held up there then it might not be worth it.”
“Not if we keep it uncovered and under nine square metres,” Zoe said. “It’s not structural, so we can just add it.”
“So, that would be three by three,” Georgia said. She pinched her chin with her fingers.
Zoe got the feeling she couldn’t picture it, so she measured out a three by three metre square on the floor. “We can make it square, like this, or pull it in and make it a little longer. And we’ll make it level with the floor in here so there’s no step to worry about. Plus,” Zoe said, warming to the idea herself. “The height of the deck means you wouldn’t have to put a rail on it, so the view would be unimpeded. We could just put a step down on both sides.”
Georgia glanced at the floor and wandered around it, apparently considering the size. “That would fit a little two- or three-seater cafe table,” she said. “Perfect for breakfast.”
“It would be,” Zoe agreed. “Especially with the sun rising on that side.”
“Buyers will go nuts over it,” Georgia grinned. “That’s decided then.”
Zoe nodded. “I’ll measure it up and get the materials ordered.”
“Okay then. I guess I better let you get back to it,” Georgia said, turning to leave. “Don’t forget to close that window back up.”
Zoe wandered over to the window and watched Georgia drive away. After she’d disappeared, Zoe stood for a moment, looking out at the view. The rain that was forecast should green up the paddocks beyond, and that would make the French doors and small veranda worth the money. Why was it, Zoe wondered, that the thought of someone else buying and living in the cottage caused a heaviness to settle in the pit of her stomach?
TWENTY-SIX
Ren was back to her old self by the time she and Georgia were heading out for dinner that night. They decided to go to the pub, since Ren hadn’t been yet, and Monday night was two-for-one parmigiana night. Ren was a sucker for pub parmigiana, and though it wasn’t Georgia’s first choice of meal, she decided to get one too so they could get the discount.
“I just love country pubs,” Ren said as they sat at a table, waiting for their meals. “Have you been here yet?”
“Last Monday night,” Georgia said. “Zoe shouted drinks for the workers on the build after the first day.”
“Oh,” Ren said. “So you’ve already had drinks with Zoe then?”
“One,” Georgia replied. “I had one beer and then went home.”
“Right,” Ren said.
“What?” Georgia asked.
Ren leaned in and lowered her voice. “You were complaining about her all last week, making me think she was some big, devil woman, and she turns out to be anything but. Not to mention, hot.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “We clashed, okay? She’s stubborn and a control freak and wouldn’t let me do any work.”
“Is that all it was?”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “Stop reading stuff into nothing. I’ll just be glad to finally get this place sold so I can move on with my life.”
“Well,” Ren said, pushing her chair back. “Rick should have an idea of what it’s worth soon. He’s been talking to a few real estate agents about the cottage.” She stood up. “I’m going to the loo.”
“Okay,” Georgia replied.
While Ren was gone, Georgia’s attention was drawn to the beer garden where Zoe appeared to be remonstrating with someone. Georgia wondered what the poor man had done to get Zoe so hot under the collar. All of a sudden, Zoe stormed off to the bar, shaking her head.
When Ren came back, Georgia stood up. “I’m getting another drink. Do you want one?”
“I’m good,” Ren replied.
As Georgia walked away, Ren called, “Hey, George.”
Georgia turned.
Ren didn’t say anything. She just motioned to the bar with her head and waggled her eyebrows. Georgia rolled her eyes, shook her head and walked to the bar.
“Hey,” she said, sidling up to Zoe.
Zoe turned, anger plastered all over her face. “Hey,” she said and turned back to glare at the wall behind the bar.
“Everything okay?” Georgia asked.
“Fine,” Zoe replied bluntly.
Georgia ordered her drink and said, “And whatever Zoe’s usual is, too.”
“I didn’t ask for a drink,” Zoe said, but Georgia noticed her tone had softened.
“You look like you need one. Besides, you bought me one last week. My turn tonight.”
Zoe gave Georgia a curt nod. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Georgia replied. She considered asking Zoe what her altercation was about, but thought better of it. Instead, she said, “I’ll see you later,” and took her drink back to her table.
When she sat down, Ren asked, “What was that all about?”
“What?” Georgia asked.
Ren waved her hand vaguely. “Whatever that was. Over there with Zoe.”
“Nothing,” Georgia replied. “She bought me a drink last week, I bought her one tonight to return the favour.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Georgia said, sipping her wine.
Ren didn’t look like she believed it, and Georgia knew there was plenty more she wanted to say, but she was stopped by the arrival of their parmigianas.
“Holy cow!” Ren said. “Or holy chicken. Look at the size of this thing.”
Georgia stared down at the piece of chicken that was half the size of the dinner plate it was sitting on. “We could’ve ordered one and shared it,” she said, lifting the corner of the chicken up to pick out a chip.
“I’ve been sharing my food since Caleb was born. Going away without them is the only chance I get to eat my own,” Ren said. She picked up her knife and wielded it at Georgia. “You stay away from my food and eat your own.”
Georgia laughed. “Fine.” As she dug in she glanced up to see Zoe was watching her, seemingly amused, from the bar. Zoe raised her beer glass to Georgia and smiled. Georgia smiled back and gave a quick nod. She glanced quickly at Ren, wondering if she’d seen the exchange, but she was too interested in her dinner to take any notice. When Georgia looked back over to the bar, Zoe was gone.
“All I’m saying,” Ren said as they walked home arm in arm.
“Is that you’re here for what? Two, maybe three more weeks? Would it be so bad if you had a fling?”
Before Georgia could protest, Ren added, “I mean, she’s hot, she obviously thinks you’re alright.”
“Gee, thanks,” Georgia replied. “But I doubt that.”
Ren dug Georgia in the ribs. “How many women have you been with since Amy died?”
“None, you know that.”
“Of course I know that. I wanted you to say it out loud and realise how pathetic that is,” Ren said.
Georgia pulled her arm away from Ren as they turned into the drive way of the motel. “I hardly think grieving over my dead partner is pathetic.”
Ren drew in a breath and let it out with a huff. “Look, George, I love you to bits but sometimes, you really shit me off.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. You’re your own worst enemy sometimes. What harm could a little fling with your builder do?”
“What harm? Are you serious? This is a professional relationship. Even if I wanted to, which I most certainly do not, I can’t go there.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Ren asked. “Remind me again how you met Amy.”
Georgia stiffened. “That’s not fair.”
They stopped in front of Georgia’s motel room door.
“Oh, that’s not fair? You’re saying you can’t sleep with your builder because you want to keep it professional, but you met your partner of twelve years while you were helping her set up bank accounts after she left her husband?”
“Shh,” Georgia said, glancing around the car park. If anyone overheard what they were talking about, the rumour mill in such a small town would go into overdrive. “I am not sleeping with Zoe Jennings.”
“Maybe not yet, but give it some time,” Ren replied with a grin.
“You’re so bloody annoying, you know that?” Georgia said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, but you love me for it,” Ren grinned.
Georgia pulled her room key from her bag. “You’re very lucky I do,” she said. “Are you coming up to the cottage again tomorrow morning before you leave?”
“I think I might just head off straight away,” Ren replied. “I’m not supposed to be back until after lunch, but I want to call in to a few places on the way home.”
“I’ll meet you at the cafe for breakfast then?” Georgia asked. “About eight, is that late enough?”
“Eight’s fine,” Ren replied. “See you in the morning.” Georgia waited until Ren had closed her door before she opened her own.
As she lay in bed flicking channels later that night, she heard the tell-tale first drops of rain on the roof. Zoe had been right. Georgia picked up her phone and sent an email to Rick asking him to confirm what they were doing about the creek crossing. Then she turned the TV off and closed her eyes. Two, maybe three more weeks, and then hopefully not much longer after that, and she’d be able to pay down the mortgage on her apartment and get on with the rest of her life.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Three nights of rain meant the creek at Carramar was well and truly running by the time Thursday morning rolled around. The windows still hadn’t arrived back from the glazier, so they wouldn’t get installed until the following week, but Zoe and Nick kicked on inside the cottage regardless.
They were installing the VJ walls in the new master bedroom by the time Georgia arrived on site mid-afternoon. Zoe sent Nick outside to grab more wall panels while she walked Georgia through the cottage and showed her their progress.
“This is looking amazing,” Georgia said. She walked over to where the kitchen was going to be. “When is the kitchen arriving?”
“Early next week. So are the windows and the French doors. Next week is going to be a big one,” Zoe said. “Oh! I’ve got something to show you.” She led Georgia into the ensuite bathroom. Along the wall where the window was due to go in sat the refurbished claw foot bath tub. Zoe pulled the tarp off of it so Georgia could see it properly, watching for her reaction.
Georgia’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Wow,” she said. She walked over and ran her hand over the bright white tub, and then stood back and looked at it from the far wall.
“Cool, right?” Zoe said.
“Very,” Georgia agreed. “The black on the outside makes it really stand out. I’m glad Ren talked me into putting it in here.”
“Ren?” Zoe asked. She was the one who told Georgia not to throw the tub out.
Georgia glanced up. “And you for talking me out of dumping it.”
Georgia smiled and Zoe smiled back. She knelt down and broke open a box of tiles and took one out. “This is the tile Celia picked out for the shower. What do you think?”
Georgia stepped closer to Zoe and ran her hands over the tile, considering it. It was a simple subway tile, larger than Zoe would normally use, but it would look amazing in the simple ensuite bathroom.
“Is this going on the floor?” Georgia asked.
“Just in the shower recess,” Zoe replied. “We’re going to stain the floors the same colour as the rest of the house and leave it timber, and Celia’s suggested we switch the VJ up and run it horizontally.” Zoe wasn’t convinced on that plan, but what did she know? Celia was the designer. Zoe just did as she was told. “A few candles around the place and it will look—”
“Romantic,” Georgia said quietly.
“I was going to say sophisticated,” Zoe said. Georgia looked up and when their eyes met, Zoe almost couldn’t talk. “Romantic works though,” she managed to get out.
Georgia pulled her hand from the tile and stepped away. “Is it usable? The tub?”
Zoe put the tile back on top of the box. “Not yet. Celia wanted to see it in the room with the tile against it, so Nick and I set it up this morning and sent some photos through. We’ll take it out this afternoon so the tilers can get started first thing Monday morning.”
“Well it looks amazing,” Georgia said. “How are we going for time?”
“At this stage,” Zoe said. “We’re looking at a week over-run thanks to the plumbing problems we turned up yesterday, but that’s not too bad considering. If we can get that sorted in the next few days, it’ll be a mad rush to the finish. We’re due for more rain and a storm or two over the next couple of weeks, so we’ll see how we go.”
Georgia nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about the creek crossing, too.”
“Are you getting that fixed?” Zoe asked. “If we get more rain, you won’t be able to get in here.”
“I’ve got a contractor coming tomorrow to have a look,” Georgia replied.
“That’s not going to work,” Zoe said with a shake of her head. “We’re not working tomorrow.”
“Why not?” Georgia asked.
Zoe turned and walked out of the ensuite and back into the lounge and dining area. “Because we’re not.”
“Any particular reason?” Georgia asked, following behind.
“There doesn’t have to be,” Zoe replied.
“But it’s the middle of the build. You just said it was going to be a mad rush to the finish,” Georgia said. “Shouldn’t we be using the extra day to catch up some time since we’re behind?”
“One day isn’t going to make a difference,” Zoe said, crossing her arms.
“I understand if you can’t make it, but surely someone else can be here to talk to the contractor,” Georgia said.
Zoe tried to hold in her frustration. “Look, it was on the schedule, everyone else has made plans based on that schedule, so you’re either going to have to get the contractor to come back next week, or come up yourself and meet him here.”
“You said yourself it needs to be done ASAP,” Georgia said.
“He’s not going to do it tomorrow,” Zoe replied. “And if we get the rain we’re supposed to over the weekend, it won’t even matter.”
“But if I don’t get it done, we won’t be able to get to the cottage, so we’ll be further behind,” Georgia said.
>
“I said you won’t get up here,” Zoe reminded her. “Nick and I have four-wheel-drives, so we’ll be fine.”
Georgia crossed her arms and glared at Zoe. “You don’t want me here.”
“That’s not what I said,” Zoe replied, rolling her eyes.
“You may as well have,” Georgia replied.
Zoe sighed heavily. “Look, I can’t make it up here because I’ve got other plans. I can get Nick to meet you here if you want someone else to talk to him, but honestly, he’ll know what you want when he sees it.”
“Whatever,” Georgia replied. “Is that it, then?”
“I guess so,” Zoe said.
They stood and eye-balled each other for a moment before Zoe finally turned away. “I have to get back to these walls.”
“Is there anything I can do while I’m here?” Georgia asked.
“You can undercoat the trims,” Zoe replied. “That will buy us some of that precious time you’re so worried about. The timber’s stacked in the shed and I presume you know where everything else is.”
“Fine,” Georgia huffed and walked back outside.
Zoe let out a breath and looked around the cottage. She’d have to go get more wall panels herself, since Nick seemed to be taking his time.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Georgia hated to admit it, but Zoe had been right about the contractor. When she met him at the cottage the next morning, he told Georgia exactly what he was going to do to fix the creek crossing, and she didn’t understand any of it. As long as he made it so cars could get in and out when the creek was running, that was good enough for her.
She told him to email a quote through to Rick, but the fact that he could have a crew out and started by next Tuesday morning meant he’d get the job. It needed to be done, and Georgia couldn’t see a need to go and chase down other quotes in the hope of finding someone cheaper. She didn’t want to add any more time to the build than was necessary.
After the contractor left, Georgia decided to head up to the cottage and finish undercoating the trims. She may as well get that job finished while she was out there.