Daddy's Precious Jewel

by Polly Carter

  After quickly making some notes on her tablet and taking some photographs, she collected up the costume jewellery in a bag to give to the local charity shop and took the bracelet, pendant and ring out to show Reg.

  “I thought this would be good for here,” she said handing him the emerald bracelet. “It’s an unusual design, the stones are good and the bracelet is sterling silver. I don’t think it will last long. It’s very pretty and we can put an attractive price on it. Someone will love it.”

  Reg looked at it and nodded. “I’ll take your word for it. You have a much better eye and instinct for what will sell than I ever had. Did you get something for yourself as well?”

  “I did. This pendant and this ring. I paid peanuts for it, but it says pt, so I reckon it’s platinum. Hopefully it will be as good a quality stone as it appears to be. I’ve got a diamond ring and ruby earrings going in to be appraised next week, so I’ll get these two done at the same time. If this ring is as good as I’m hoping, I should be able to sell it for about ten times what I paid for it, which, to be honest, wasn’t much, so I still shan’t be able to afford the Hope Diamond quite yet.” She made a sad face, then perked up again. “But, every bit helps.”

  While she was talking, Reg had put his own loupe up to his eye and was carefully studying the pendant and ring.

  “Like I said, I think you’ve got a natural eye and instinct. They could both be quality and are definitely worth a proper appraisal I reckon, Hope Diamond or not.”

  “Aw, thank you,” Pearl said gratefully. She locked them in the safe, and helped tidy the shop before closing as a ‘thank you’ for the loan of the car.

  “You need a lift home?” Reg asked when they’d finished and were preparing to leave.

  “No. I’ll be right. Dad’s picking me up. He should be here any moment.”

  They went out and Reg locked the door behind them, then went off leaving her to wait for her lift. In less than five minutes, she saw her dad walking up the pavement towards her.

  “Good timing, Dad,” she said, smiling up at him.

  He greeted her with a half-smile and a nod. “You ready to head home then? The ute’s over there, next to that empty shop that someone’s been doing whatever it is to.”

  “Oh, look, they’ve started painting a name out the front,” said Pearl as they crossed the road. “It wasn’t there when I left this morning. They must be getting serious, whoever they are. Do we know what it is, yet? It’s been such a mystery.”

  “There’s some brochures on the door. I picked one up. Here, you can look at it on the drive home, and tell me what it says.”

  Settled in the ute, Pearl opened the brochure Jack had handed her. “It says Sustainable Farming Foundation. I wonder what that means,” she said, scrunching her nose.

  “Hmph,” Jack snorted. “Nothing, most likely. Sounds like city activists coming to tell us how to run our farms. Waste of time. Chuck it in the bin.”

  “Hang on,” Pearl said. “I want to read it. It says: The SFF is a private, non-affiliated organisation, committed to partnering with farmers in the Darling Flats region to ensure their long-term viability and productivity. To help counter dwindling water supplies, SFF will provide information on the latest technologies to maximise water collection and usage. Experts will also be available on request to consult, free of charge, with farmers on the individual issues facing each farm and provide advice and suggestions for improvements and change. SFF will also offer loans to aid farmers who wish to future-proof their farms and crop production.” As she’d been reading, her voice had been getting more excited and she was fidgeting in her seat. “Wow, it sounds pretty interesting, doesn’t it?”

  “Hmph,” Jack scoffed again. “Sounds downright fishy to me. Who’s behind it, that’s what I’d like to know.”

  “Well, it says here there’s an introductory meeting at the Town Hall on Saturday night at seven o’clock. Why don’t we go and check it out? They might be able to help you with our farm, mightn’t they?”

  “Oh, Pearl. You’re such a dreamer. No one is magically going to appear to help us. I may not know what this crowd’s angle is yet, but I’ve been around long enough to know they aren’t doing it for love.”

  “Let’s go anyway, Dad. With Mum. We hardly ever go out together. We could go to the Chinese restaurant first and then to the meeting. Come on. I’m curious to see what it’s about. It can’t do any harm, can it? What a shame John and Debbie are away. I bet John would want to go.”

  Reaching over, Jack ruffled his daughter’s hair and smiled affectionately at her. “All right, Pearly girl. Let’s go see. I can’t see me getting any peace until I agree, anyway. And, if it’s anything interesting, we can tell John all about it later.”

  A few local farmers had stated categorically that they didn’t want any ‘city-slickers poking their unwanted noses into farmers’ business’ and would definitely not be going to the information night, but others were driven by curiosity and the promise of a night out with friends somewhere other than the pub. Consequently, the rows of wooden chairs lined up in front of the stage were filling quite quickly by the time Pearl, Jack and Mary arrived. Around the edges of the room, not wanting to appear too keen in case they found out later it was some type of scam, small groups were hanging back, voicing their scepticism to each other.

  Despite their natural suspicion of outsiders, over thirty local families were represented when the time ticked over to seven o’clock and a man, in his late thirties or early forties, stood in front of them. He introduced himself as Len Buckingham and told them he’d begin with a short presentation on SFF, and then answer questions.

  “It’s been hard for a while, and many of you are struggling and considering leaving the land,” he went on after briefly outlining the structure of the foundation and its mission statement. “Some families have already left. This is a real shame as Darling Flats has some of the most fertile land around these parts. Food security is going to be an increasingly serious issue in the future, and we can’t afford to let important food production areas like this one fall apart. SFF believes new methods and new technologies can help restore productivity to farms such as yours, and that, by working together, we can not only make this district the thriving food bowl it used to be, but even increase its productivity.”

  “What’s in it for you?” a sceptical voice called out.

  “And what’s it going to cost us?” another voice chimed in.

  “Two excellent questions,” Len replied. “Firstly, what’s in it for me? Well, I’ve been hired by the Foundation so, yes, I’m paid and this is my job. But don’t think that makes me less committed to SFF’s mission or to this district. We all have to eat.” He smiled. “That’s the very reason SFF exists, and we have the opportunity here to be a test case for other districts. I can’t deny that excites me because if we can show other places how to better manage their farms in changing conditions, we will not only aid in the production of food, but we will also be helping rehabilitate land that has been degraded by outdated farming practices.

  “And, as to what it is going to cost you: all SFF services are free of charge. What we are offering is, initially, a consultation service. Any one of you can book a time to meet with one of our consultants and discuss what particular issues and difficulties you are having. SFF’s articulated mission is to come up with a strategic plan for any farm that wants help, and then to partner them to bring that plan to fruition. We can provide a range of resources like information, professional help with planning, budgets, farming practises and so on…”

  “And money?” the heckling sceptic called out then grinned around at the audience.

  “Yes,” Len said, staring directly at the man and forcing him to look away. “And money. Obviously, we won’t be just giving money to anyone who asks.” Jeers and boos greeted this announcement, but Len calmly waited until it had died down amid shushing from those interested in hearing what he had to say. “SFF is prepared to consider an
y request for financial help, and if we believe the money is going to be practicably used to help future-proof production on the farm and the district, it will make funds available to help.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  Len grimaced and nodded. “I guess you could call it a catch. For any funds to be approved, SFF must believe that whatever the money is being used for will help increase productivity in a sustainable way. Some of you might not agree with all the conditions, and of course that is completely your right. No one is going to be forced to do anything, but what we hope is that when some farms start showing benefits, others will come on board. We’re also actively seeking farmers who want to partner with us by setting aside a small part of their land which we will then farm jointly using some of the new ideas, technologies and products available, and those will become showcases. While we are not suggesting doing anything that hasn’t already been tried and succeeded in other places, they will be experimental in a way because some adaptations to local conditions will almost certainly be necessary.”

  Sitting between her parents, Pearl listened carefully. It sounded like a good thing, and the district certainly needed help. She was wondering what her father was thinking about it all, when the side door moving caught her eye. It opened just enough so the man behind could see into the hall. Frozen with shock, her tummy getting a sudden breath-taking case of the collywobbles, Pearl watched his eyes glance around the room until they met hers and locked onto them.

  Even in the shadow, even behind a half-closed door, Pearl would recognise those beloved eyes anywhere. Marcus! Her body began to tremble and she clenched her hands into fists as her palms grew suddenly wet. She forced her eyes away from his and looked to the front. What was he doing here? It was months since she’d seen or heard from him, and nearly a year since she’d fled the city to come home.

  He had come to visit her at the start, but she’d refused to invite him into the house, telling him each time that his life was not for her and she couldn’t be happy in it. It had taken all her courage to not give in to him. Every time she saw him, she was reminded, painfully, how much she loved him and how much she wished it could have worked out for them, but then she would remember that awful night and how alien his world had been.

  She had built a life for herself in Darling Flats, and when she wasn’t missing Marcus and crying softly into her teddy bear, she was quietly content and proud of herself for being strong and independent. She missed him terribly, but her one meeting with his family had convinced her that they couldn’t be together.

  Now he was here. Looking in. But why? Len also glanced at the door and Pearl saw the two men nod to each other. Then the door closed and Marcus disappeared. Did he have something to do with SFF? It certainly seemed as though he and Len knew each other. What was going on? Pearl couldn’t stop her heartbeat from quickening at the thought of Marcus being as close as the other side of the door.

  “Okay, well that about wraps up all I want to say for the moment,” Len was announcing to the crowd. He gestured to a trestle table against the wall. “Please help yourself to light refreshments—there’s tea, coffee and cake. There’s also plenty of brochures and information sheets on this table at the front, so help yourself to those as well. If you have any questions, I’m here to answer them for you. If I can,” he added with a smile, stepping back as people began standing up and milling about. A few left, but most stayed for refreshments and to discuss amongst themselves what they’d heard or to talk with Len.

  “I’m going outside for a minute,” Pearl told her parents and, before they could reply, she hurried across the room to the door, opened it and went through.

  Chapter 28

  Marcus

  Anyone walking past and seeing Marcus leaning casually against the wall of the building, would never have guessed that his heart was racing and the hands in his pockets were tightly clenched into fists. It had been a shock seeing Pearl in the hall. He hadn’t expected her to come nor seen her arrive. It had been months, maybe even a year since she’d broken off their relationship and broken his heart. He couldn’t remember exactly how long off the top of his head; it seemed both aeons ago and yesterday at the same time.

  His eyes were fixed on the door through which she would come. Now she knew he was here, she would come; he knew she would. The second their eyes had met, he’d felt the connection as strong as ever. And then the door opened and she was there, looking around for him. He kept perfectly still. For this brief second, he allowed himself to imagine that when she saw him, she would squeal with delight, run to him and throw herself into his arms with a cry of “Daddy!” In reality, though, he expected she would be as she had the last time he’d seen her: cool, distant, not wanting him to touch her and definitely not wanting to call him Daddy. He sighed and steeled himself. If he had to be patient, so be it; he was prepared to wait for as long as it took and to do whatever it took to make her his again.

  He stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his movement catching Pearl’s attention. She turned to him and he felt that same punch in the gut as their eyes met. Maintaining his outwardly relaxed demeanour, he strolled towards her.

  “Hey, Pearl.” What he wouldn’t give to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

  “Marcus? What are you doing here?” She sounded surprised. Was there a hint of pleasure, too? His every sense was straining to its limit to pick up the slightest nuance in her voice, her expression, her movements. The last time he’d seen her, like every time since that awful day at the bus station after the disaster party, she just wanted him to go away. Was that what she was thinking this time too? Was that what she was going to say?

  “Same as you. SFF’s information night. What did you think of it?” His voice was misleadingly calm.

  “Oh. Good. I think. I’m not sure I followed all of it, but it certainly sounded interesting. A lot of it was stuff you used to talk about with Dad, I think. But you weren’t in there. How come you were out here?” Her nose scrunched up in confusion as he’d seen it do many times before, and he felt that stab in his belly again and had to forcibly restrain himself from reaching out and pulling her into his arms.

  He smiled gently. “No, I’m reasonably au fait already with what Len was talking about, so I thought I’d enjoy the evening air. I’ll go in in a minute, though. Are Jack and Mary with you?”

  Pearl nodded. “Are you going to come and say hello?”

  “Sure. I’m so glad you all came. I had no idea if you would or not. I’m dying to see what Jack thought of the presentation. I would have called him anyway if he hadn’t come tonight.”

  Marcus’s mouth twitched as he watched Pearl’s expression change from bemusement to confusion to realisation. She was as captivating as he’d remembered, but also now had an air of quiet maturity that he found as appealing in its own way as her Little.

  “Is SFF something to do with you? I mean, are you something to do with SFF?”

  “Yes. Guilty as charged.” He held his hands out, palms up, and adopted a remorseful expression.

  “Oh.”

  He sighed. “Duty calls. I’m going to go inside and give Len a hand, but will you wait and let me drive you home? We could chat on the way.”

  He felt her defences shoot up. “What about?”

  He grinned ruefully and gently shook his head. “Nothing in particular, I promise. But we haven’t caught up for ages. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to. Please, have a cup of tea or something while I finish up and I’ll give you a lift home. What do you say? Or is someone else waiting for you?”

  “No. I came with my folks.” It was emphatic, as was the shake of her head.

  “How about it then? Let me drive you home? Please?” He tilted his head sideways and scrunched his lips pleadingly.

  She didn’t answer, but glancing down he could see her foot move as her toe strained inside her runners. It meant she was conflicted, which wasn’t an outright ‘no’. It had always been hard for h
er to say what she wanted, and perhaps that hadn’t changed despite her outwardly self-possessed persona. He put his arm softly around her shoulders and led her towards the door. She didn’t melt into him as she might have once done, but nor did she pull away.

  “Come on. I should go in. Let’s see your folks, and I can tell them I’ll give you a lift home.”

  Pearl didn’t resist as Marcus led her inside, dropping his arm from her shoulders before he opened the door and they went in. If he was unsure about whether Pearl was pleased to see him, Jack and Mary left him in no doubt.

  “Marcus!” Jack said, grabbing Marcus’s outstretched hand in a firm grip and pumping it. “Good to see you, mate.”

  “It really is,” Mary agreed, giving Marcus a warm hug as soon as she could push her way in. “How are you, dear? I had no idea you were in town. Did you, love?” she asked Pearl.

  Pearl shook her head.

  “Are you here for this information night, too?” Jack asked him. “It covered a lot of the stuff we talked about last year, eh?”

  “Marcus is part of SFF,” Pearl told her parents realising that hadn’t occurred to them yet either.

  Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that right? Well, well…”

  Marcus shrugged and nodded, then held his hand up with its palm facing Jack to stop any congratulations. “You know, Jack, if any of this comes off, you deserve a lot of the credit. I listened to what you were saying about farming in this area and how it hasn’t changed as the land and water resources have changed. It used to be so fertile and productive, and with food production essential, it’s a real problem places like Darling Flats are drying up and farmers are walking off the land.”

  “So is this your foundation?” Jack asked.

  Again, Marcus shrugged to deflect the conversation from him. “After talking with you, I wanted to see if there was anywhere in the world that was working on these issues, particularly new ways of managing soil and innovative farming practices that use less water. And also, of course, better water catchment and management to make optimum use of what water there is. I’ve had a good look at work being done all over the globe as well as here and where current research is at, and I decided I wanted to make a contribution.”