by Karly Lane
Griff had a chuckle at the memory.
‘“That’s the ditch you drove the tractor into”,’ Linc continued. ‘“Griff towed you out and saved your hide that time too”.’
‘He knew about that?’ Griff frowned.
‘Right!’ Linc nodded. ‘We thought we’d managed to hide that one. Goes to show the crafty old bastard really does have eyes in the back of his head.’
Griff gave a surprised grunt as the news sank in.
‘He doesn’t say it too often, but he’s proud of you, mate. Don’t take today to heart. You’re right—it’s better to fix stuff right the first time than patch it up for a while, and he’d probably be the first to say that any other day.’
Griff rubbed his hands across his face and gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s just been one of those days.’ And it wasn’t getting any better the more he thought about Olivia.
‘Want another beer?’
Griff sent his brother a knowing grin. ‘You wouldn’t by any chance be trying to delay going inside to get off listening to any more baby talk would you?’ He laughed at his older brother’s wince and slapped him on the back as he stood up to leave. ‘I’d like to save your arse, just like old times, mate, but I’ve got stuff to do.’
‘Sure. Great. You run while you have the chance.’ Linc stood up and threw away their empty cans.
Truth was, Griff almost wanted to hide out in the shed drinking beer too, but he had more work to do and right now he’d rather face that than have time on his hands to think about things he didn’t have answers to.
Griff pulled up outside the Dawsons’ house and sat in the car for a few moments before getting out. He’d been talking himself out of coming over, but he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. It was driving him crazy. He had to find out where he and Liv stood. They’d been texting ever since their brief meeting at the airport the other day, but the messages had been short and felt too impersonal.
The fact she didn’t think anything of keeping him in suspense only increased his concern. He got that her parents’ return had been a surprise and they’d need time to adjust to things, but she’d been offered a job overseas for Christ’s sake, and she hadn’t mentioned it since.
It was like his life was becoming one big game of déjà vu. He’d been through this with Tiffany when she went overseas for the job of a lifetime and he hadn’t seen that one coming either.
He knocked on the door before opening it and walking inside, calling out the usual hello as he headed down the hallway. ‘In here, Griff,’ Sue Dawson called out, just as she had a thousand times in the past.
‘You’re just in time for afternoon tea,’ Sue said, standing up to kiss his cheek as she moved to get another cup. He shook hands with Bill and slapped Ollie’s shoulder as he moved past to take a seat beside Olivia. He hesitated before quickly giving her a peck on the cheek, conscious of the fact her parents hadn’t seen them together as a couple since their return.
‘Well, isn’t this lovely, Bill,’ Sue said, handing Griff his cup and taking her seat. ‘We always hoped you two might get back together again,’ she said to Griff with a wide smile.
‘We did?’ Bill grunted.
‘Oh, stop it, Bill,’ she chastised with a wave of her hand. ‘Many times over tea, your mother, Gran and I would talk about when it would happen.’
‘Mum,’ Olivia groaned and Griff bit back a grin.
‘Well, it’s nice to see you both happy, that’s all,’ Sue added with a defiant nod towards her daughter.
‘Oh, they’re happy all right. You should have seen how they carried on when you two weren’t here. All over each other like a rash,’ Ollie said, reaching for a scone.
‘Shut up, Ollie,’ Olivia snapped.
‘Sickening,’ Ollie informed them with mock disgust.
‘And when are we going to see you with a girl out here, mister?’ Sue asked bluntly, making Ollie drop his smug smile.
‘Yes, Ollie,’ Olivia asked sweetly, eyeing her brother with malicious delight. ‘When?’
‘As soon as I find one who can cook as good as Mum,’ he said, taking a bite of his scone and sending his mother a wink across the table.
‘Good luck with that, son. No one cooks like your mother,’ Bill said, earning himself an eye roll from his wife.
‘I’m serious, Oliver, it’s about time you started thinking of the future.’
‘Don’t start this again, Mum,’ he groaned. ‘You just got home.’
‘You’re not getting any younger,’ she added.
‘I’ve got plenty of time. Liv’s the one who needs to hurry up,’ he said, throwing the attention back to his twin. ‘When are you two tying the knot? Mum wants grandkids.’
Griff had just taken a sip of his tea and he almost choked as it went down the wrong way. Beside him, he caught a glimpse of Olivia’s horrified expression.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it a time or two, but now, almost as though a bright light had been cast into the shadows, it dawned on him that marriage was exactly what he wanted. Of course, it could have been momentary lack of oxygen to the brain as well, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to marry Olivia. He heard Olivia’s muttered suggestion about where Ollie could go and what he could do there, but noticed her jumpy glance as he looked at her. Had she been thinking about it too?
‘Leave them alone, Oliver,’ his mother said with a cluck of her tongue, passing over a plate of scones with an apologetic yet slightly amused look in her eye. ‘Good things come to those who wait,’ she said simply.
‘Exactly. I’m just waiting,’ Ollie said, reaching for another scone.
Could this afternoon get any more embarrassing? Olivia thought, fighting to keep her humiliation at bay. She was going to strangle her obnoxious brother the minute she got him alone.
Her mother had been the one who’d insisted she invite Griff over for afternoon tea. She missed nothing and must have thought it a little strange that he hadn’t been over here in the last few days. It was as good an excuse as any, she supposed. They really did need to talk. Only, she didn’t particularly want to. It was rather pointless now anyway.
Over their first family meal together again around the kitchen table, her father had surprised her by bringing up the paddock-to-plate idea. It seemed her mother had broached the subject before his release from hospital and it had piqued his curiosity. Olivia had given him all the information she’d collected and then spent many hours answering his questions and brainstorming new avenues. At this point she was almost worried she had created a monster. It was all he could talk about.
It was a relief, though, to have him so wholeheartedly interested in the project, and Olivia had to admit she did feel a little smug that she’d been on the right track when everyone else, including Ollie, had been sure Bill wouldn’t want anything to do with it. There was only one problem.
‘So, Griff, I suppose Liv’s told you all about our new venture?’
‘Venture?’ Griff echoed, switching his gaze between them.
‘You haven’t told him yet?’ her mother asked, surprised.
‘I haven’t had the chance,’ Olivia said feebly as her father launched into a rundown of the paddock-to-plate project.
‘And Liv here is going to be the one to get it up and running,’ her dad finished, beaming proudly across the table at her.
She swallowed nervously as Griff raised an eyebrow. She knew what he was thinking. How was she going to set up a business if she was taking the job in London?
Olivia hadn’t really counted on being the one to actually start the project up, but her parents had become so excited by the idea that they’d agreed to do it, on the proviso that she would be project manager. She’d said yes, of course. What else could she do? After all, she’d been the one encouraging her father to take it on, and the last thing her parents needed was the stress of overseeing renovations and contracts, not to mention handling all the red tape that went along with it. She’d
been tempted to suggest they hold off till her father was further along in his rehabilitation, but she feared if she did he’d give up the idea completely and then they’d be back to square one with nothing for him to really do.
Bill was a long way from recovering full mobility. He was reliant on a wheelchair for any long distances, but he was making progress with a walking frame and, with continued work, he’d eventually move on to a stick, then hopefully full unaided movement. But, realistically, that was all a long way down the track. No one had stated it aloud, but it seemed unlikely that he’d return to full farm duties any time soon, if ever.
The paddock-to-plate project had become the light at the end of the tunnel for her father—it gave him a tangible time frame, something to work towards. There was a spark of determination back in his eyes now. It really wasn’t even a choice for Olivia. London would have to wait.
‘That’s great news,’ Griff said slowly, before looking across at her parents and nodding encouragingly. ‘Sounds like a fantastic idea.’
Later the men sat and continued discussing farming while Olivia helped her mother clear the table.
‘Is everything all right?’ her mother asked quietly as they stacked the dishwasher. ‘You and Griff don’t seem as … comfortable as I was imagining you would be.’
‘Everything’s fine,’ she beamed, hoping she sounded more convinced than she felt. ‘We just haven’t had a lot of time together lately … you know … with everything that’s been going on.’
‘Well, you go and spend some time together now—we’re finished in here.’ Before she could protest, her mother was across the room and clapping her hands like a seasoned schoolteacher, getting everyone’s attention. ‘Time for Bill to get some rest.’
‘What? No! I don’t need any more bloody rest,’ her father protested.
‘You heard what the doctor said,’ Sue chided, bending to release the wheelchair’s brakes.
‘But I’m not even tired,’ he grumbled, and Olivia had to bite back a smile as her mother soothed his irritable mood in the same way Olivia remembered her pacifying them as tired kids fighting an afternoon sleep.
‘And you’ve got work to do, Oliver,’ Sue threw over her shoulder pointedly.
‘Jeez, righto. Slave driver,’ Ollie mumbled, pushing his chair back and standing up. ‘Guess I’ll see you later then,’ he nodded at Griffin and disappeared out through the screen door.
Olivia chewed the inside of her lip as the two of them were left alone in the big, empty kitchen.
‘So I guess this means you’re not taking the job?’ Griff said finally.
‘No.’
‘You were pretty fired up about taking it the other day.’
‘Yeah, well, that was before. Things have changed.’
‘Do you think this is a good idea? I mean, as much as I hated the idea of you going, you seemed pretty adamant that you wanted to. Are you sure you want to turn the job down?’
‘I don’t have much choice about the matter. Look, it’s done. I’ve already called them. Mum and Dad need me right now, and you didn’t want me to take it, so end of story. Everyone’s happy.’
‘Not everyone,’ Griff pointed out, eyeing her steadily.
‘It doesn’t matter any more. Let’s just forget it. The paddock-to-plate project will be great once we get it up and running and it’s what Dad needs. London wasn’t ever going to be a practical choice anyway.’
‘Did your parents even know about the job offer?’
Olivia sent him a look that spoke volumes. Of course they didn’t. There was no way they’d have gone ahead with the project if they had.
‘Liv—’
‘Just … don’t. Okay?’ she said. No, she didn’t want to give up her dream, but right now her parents’ wellbeing was more important.
Olivia watched him warily as he stood up and walked towards her. She didn’t resist when he pulled her close, although she wanted to. She’d been pushing down her disappointment for the past two days, but having Griff hold her so tightly weakened her control. The first few tears of regret pooled over and fell, wetting the front of his shirt as he continued to hold her and rub his cheek against the top of her head.
‘It’ll be okay. I’ve got you,’ he said softly, and a wave of bittersweet sorrow ran through her at the words. Something had changed. She wasn’t sure what, only that her decision to stay had changed something. But damn it, sometimes you just had to do what had to be done.
Twenty-eight
Olivia opened the back door and plastered a cheerful smile on her face. She’d no sooner got ‘Good morning’ out when the first of the problems was handed to her unceremoniously. ‘The builder needs you to call the plumber. Something’s gone wrong with the schedule,’ her father said, looking over the top of the newspaper.
‘Why do I need to talk to the plumber? Jeff’s the builder. Isn’t it his job to organise the subcontractors?’
‘The plumber, Joey Aitkins, had a run-in with Jeff last year and they don’t speak to each other,’ her mother put in helpfully from the sink.
‘That’s ridiculous. Aren’t they supposed to be professionals?’
Sue gave a small shrug before turning back to the potatoes she was peeling.
‘What are they, a pair of six year olds?’ Olivia muttered irritably. This was not what she needed to be dealing with today. Then again, why should today be any different? Nothing about this project was turning out to be straightforward.
Her thoughts turned briefly to Griffin. They’d eased back into their relationship, but there was something different about it now. A reserve of sorts, which was understandable given she’d been ready to pack up and leave him for a job not so long ago. And it wasn’t only on Griff’s side. She felt it as well. Life was different now that her parents were home. She still spent the occasional night at Griffin’s, but less often than before they’d come back.
While she’d been able to turn down the London job, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to beg for her old job back and, truthfully, she didn’t miss it. She’d taken on some freelance accounting work so she’d at least have an income and not feel like a freeloader living with her parents, since it’d be some time before the new business venture began earning a return.
There was so much work to cram into her day that often she had to work late into the night to get it all done. There was little point taking it to Griffin’s when all she’d be doing would be keeping him awake. As a result, they were spending less and less time together and the strain was beginning to show.
Olivia walked down the driveway, past the large machinery sheds, towards the shearing quarters. For as long as she could remember the shearing sheds had been empty. They hadn’t run sheep on Moorbrook for years, but the shearers’ quarters had been taken good care of, despite not being utilised—her parents couldn’t abide waste in any form, and there was nothing more wasteful than allowing a building to rot away. Over the years the quarters had been used as guestrooms for big family occasions and Christmases and, more recently, for accommodation for their backpacker workers. But now the building was being renovated, with the addition of a new larger wing that would house bunkbeds and sleep a lot more people, as well as a shower and toilet block, cooking facilities and camping area.
She found her builder working hard, thankfully. She’d been worried that she’d find things had ground to a halt given the problem with the plumber, but it turned out that she only had to call Joey Aitkins to let him know he would be right to come in and start his part any time after tomorrow.
Things were running to schedule and the renovations were almost complete. Phase one would be finished and they’d be able to move on to the next phase: planning the educational program. Olivia had been exchanging ideas with her friend and she’d sat down with her father to outline what a school visit might entail. During this process she’d found it interesting to interview her dad about the history of the property. A lot of it she already knew, but there were some things
she hadn’t known, and on her lowest days she could look back at the hours she’d spent talking to her father and treasure them. She loved that they were passing down stories from one generation to another.
Olivia had been emailing possible avenues of interest—schools, community groups, retirement homes. There was huge scope for their program—everything from forming part of a teaching plan in agriculture to an informative outing for residents of nearby retirement homes. It was heartening when enquiries began trickling in, but they were still a long way from being ready.
For the first time, Olivia realised how Ollie had been feeling all this time. There was a lot riding on this venture—renovations and money already outlayed in permits and approvals had begun to add up. If this scheme failed, they’d lose a signficant amount of money.
The weight of that responsibility rested heavily on her shoulders. It had to work. She couldn’t accept anything less. She wouldn’t. Going through the numbers in her head once again she straightened up, feeling a little better. It had to work.
Twenty-nine
Later that day Olivia drove out to meet up with Ollie, delivering afternoon smoko to him in the paddock.
‘Thank God Mum’s back home,’ Olivia said dryly as she handed over the esky of goodies.
‘I thought I was going to waste away while she was gone.’
‘Oh please. I baked.’
‘And I appreciated it, but it’s not Mum’s cooking.’
It was hard to take offence because it was true. When was the magic supposed to kick in with cooking? When were the scones she cooked—following the instructions precisely—supposed to go from okay to amazing?
‘So what’s going on with you?’ Ollie said after he’d downed the lemonade in one long chug, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm as he eyed her seriously.
‘What?’
‘Come on, Liv. Something’s going on. You haven’t been yourself. Are you and Griff having trouble?’