Saving Grace

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Oh,’ Barbara said, staring at the contents. Emily smiled weakly and Barbara drew her into a tight hug. ‘Well done you! I’m very proud.’

  As Emily clung to her friend; two tears fell. And then, as if the floodgates had opened, she began to cry. At first she tried to hide it, but with Barbara’s words of, ‘There, there, let it all out, it’ll be good for you,’ she allowed herself to openly and loudly sob.

  It took a few minutes for Emily to regain control of her breathing and the tears to return to a trickle.

  ‘Come on, I’ll put the kettle on,’ Barbara said, steering her towards the house.

  Barbara busied herself with getting mugs of coffee and a plate of homemade ginger biscuits while Emily blew her nose and wiped away the remaining wet lines of tears streaking her face.

  ‘So,’ Barbara said, plopping down onto a kitchen chair at the end of the table. ‘Did he hit you?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘John must have done something pretty major. Yesterday you weren’t happy but you certainly weren’t ready to leave him. And the carefully packed boot out there suggests you’re not going back – that this is not just some tiff.’

  Emily stared at her steaming mug, picked it up, took a long sip, and carefully put it back down on the coaster before her. Returning Barbara’s gaze, she said in a voice a lot calmer than she felt, ‘He demolished the cottage across the way.’

  ‘Oh Em, that’s terrible.’

  ‘For no other reason than to upset me,’ she added.

  ‘But I thought it was to make way for a hayshed?’

  ‘Yes, well, apparently not; there are over five thousand other acres to choose from,’ she said venomously.

  ‘You’re sure it was out of spite – lot of work just …’

  Emily chose to ignore her friend’s scepticism – it was understandable. ‘I quote, “Maybe now you’ll stop with all this bed and breakfast nonsense”.’

  ‘Oh my God! What a nasty piece of work! I had no idea.’

  ‘It came as a bit of a shock to me as well.’

  ‘At least he didn’t hurt you or Grace. I absolutely think you did the right thing leaving.’

  Emily looked away.

  ‘What? What aren’t you telling me?’

  She took another breath and said quietly, ‘He shot at her.’

  ‘He what?! Why?’

  ‘To give her a fright,’ she said with a shrug.

  ‘He shot at Grace – that’s inexcusable. Bastard! So, did you have a big fight?’

  ‘No, I didn’t give him the satisfaction.’

  ‘Good girl. So what did you do?’

  ‘Finished dinner, did the dishes, watched some stupid reality TV show with him, went to bed. This morning I packed his lunch for the Ag Bureau day, and when he’d gone, packed my things. And now, here I am.’

  ‘Did you leave a note?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I wonder how long it will take him to realise you’ve gone.’

  ‘When his next meal isn’t on the table, I would think. Though he has been eating out quite a bit lately.’

  ‘Have you told your mother?’

  ‘I don’t feel quite up to facing her just yet,’ Emily said with a weak smile.

  ‘No,’ Barbara mused. ‘You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.’

  ‘Thanks Barbara, but I couldn’t impose.’

  ‘Actually, you’d be doing me a favour – David’s taken a load of wool to Adelaide and won’t be back until Saturday or Sunday. He’s getting it done while the weather is too cool and damp for harvest.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Anyway, where else can you go – your parents’?’

  Emily, suddenly feeling very lost and teary again, concentrated on her coffee.

  ‘Em, just because your mother’s the iron maiden doesn’t mean you have to be. This is a really tough time for you, and I hate to say it, but it’s probably going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Don’t be afraid to accept help; it’s what friends are for. And I know you’d do the same for me if the situation were reversed.’

  ‘I just don’t know what to do,’ Emily replied, her eyes again filling with tears.

  ‘You’ve taken the biggest step – you’ve left the brute.’

  ‘Yes, but now what? What am I going to do with my life? I have no job, nowhere to live, and a dog to look after. And I have to break the news to my mother, who thinks marriage should be endured no matter what,’ she added, wincing.

  ‘I’ll tag along for moral support, if you like. Seriously. But first, you need to stop thinking big picture – whole life – and start breaking it all down into manageable pieces. Firstly, you’re staying with me for the next few days – and I will not take no for an answer,’ she said, holding up a hand in response to Emily opening her mouth to protest. ‘During that time you can look for a job and somewhere else to live. And we’ll tackle your mother together.’

  Emily sighed deeply. Put like that it did seem easier. ‘Thanks Barbara, you’ve no idea how much it means.’ Her eyes filled again.

  ‘Fiddlesticks,’ Barbara said, flipping a hand. ‘You’d do the same for me. Now, first things first: I need another coffee,’ she said, leaping up. ‘More coffee, or would you prefer tea, or something else?’

  ‘Another coffee would be good, thanks.’

  ‘They don’t call it the “think drink” for nothing,’ Barbara said from the sink.

  And they don’t say ‘A problem shared is a problem halved’ for nothing, Emily thought, staring at the tiny rose design in the floral tablecloth. She thought of Granny Mayfair, who would otherwise have been her first port of call. Even though her memory had been shot and she couldn’t have given her anywhere to stay, just being in her presence would have been a great comfort. Not that she wasn’t grateful to Barbara. But it just wasn’t quite the same, was it? God, she missed her gran. Why hadn’t she confided in her when she first realised she’d made a mistake marrying John, or any time after? A couple of tears dripped onto the table cloth, spreading upon impact and leaving small darker spots.

  God, she thought with a groan, she really had to break the news to her parents soon. She’d never hear the end of it if someone in town heard first and told her mother. And it couldn’t be done over the phone.

  Perhaps she had her mother painted all wrong. Didn’t parents always do their best to help when their children were in trouble? Didn’t parents just want their children to be happy, no matter how grown-up they were?

  Yes, it would be all right – she’d be offered a warm, welcoming embrace from Enid, who would then cook her a nice, comforting meal. Then together, as a family, they would devise a strategy for moving forward and putting the past behind them.

  ‘You look a little calmer,’ Barbara commented, putting Emily’s mug back down in front of her.

  She startled slightly. ‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ Emily said, recovering her composure.

  ‘Meditating?’

  ‘Just deep in thought.’

  ‘Oh well, you look calmer. Care to talk about it?’

  ‘Just talking myself into fronting my mother. I figure things are never as bad as you think they’ll be. Anyway, it has to be done, and sooner would be better than later.’

  ‘I quite agree. Would you like me to come? I’m more than happy to accompany you if you think it would help.’

  ‘Thanks, but I really think this is something I have to do on my own. I made the decision to leave John, and now I have to start standing on my own two feet.’

  ‘So when do you think you’ll do it?’

  ‘After I’ve finished my coffee, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course. And if there’s anything I can do, promise you’ll let me know.’

  ‘Actually, there is one thing.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Gracie. Could I leave her here with you?’

  ‘Of course. Sasha will love having her little girl back.’

  ‘I’ve got
food and everything else for her in the car.’ Emily gulped her coffee down nervously. ‘Well, no time like the present,’ she said, pushing her chair back from the table.

  ‘Do you want to phone first and make sure someone’s home?’

  ‘No, I’ll take my chances.’

  Barbara followed Emily to the car. Gracie bounded up, and Sasha arrived, panting, a few moments later. Emily took Grace’s bedding, bowls and food from the boot and handed them to Barbara, feeling a wave of sadness as she did.

  ‘Do you want me to take any of your things inside?’

  Emily felt a little awkward. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m hoping if everything goes okay I’ll stay with Mum and Dad – you know, being family.’

  ‘Well, if it doesn’t, there’s a bed all made up and ready here. Just let me know one way or the other so I don’t worry you’ve had an accident or something.’

  ‘I will. And thank you so much for everything – especially taking care of Gracie; it’s a real weight off my mind. Mum doesn’t do dogs,’ she added, forgetting Barbara had had a dose of Enid’s dislike of pets just the day before.

  As if realising she was about to be left behind, the pup stared up at Emily with her head to one side and whined.

  ‘You’ll be quite all right with Auntie Barbara. I’ll be back soon,’ Emily said, squatting down and ruffling the pup’s ears before giving her a kiss on the head.

  Starting to feel teary again, Emily swallowed deeply and gave Barbara, who still had her arms full of dog paraphernalia, a quick hug.

  ‘Thanks again for everything. Speak to you soon,’ she croaked, and got into the car.

  Emily had a little over three quarters of an hour in which to pull herself together and figure out just what to say. She drove as if on autopilot, the road disappearing under the car, barely noticing the trees on the roadside. A couple of times she wondered exactly where on her journey she was, having made turns and stops at dirt intersections without remembering doing so.

  By the time Emily drove into her parents’ street, she couldn’t quite decide if she wanted her mother to be home or not.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily parked in front of her parents’ house, turned the car off and sat taking deep, calming breaths and enjoying the band of sun coming through the window. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the pale net curtain at the front window move. Reluctantly, she exited the cool of the car into the warm, sunny day.

  She was on the final step up to the verandah, ready to lift her arm, when the door opened wide before her.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you, was I?’ Enid Oliphant declared.

  ‘No, Mum.’ The words came out with a weary sigh.

  ‘John not with you?’ Enid asked, looking behind her daughter as if for a small child hiding behind adult legs.

  Emily swallowed and took another fortifying breath. ‘Mum, can I come in please?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. Sorry,’ Enid said, stepping aside.

  ‘Is Dad here?’ Emily asked, now standing in the casual lounge area and looking about her.

  ‘Not sure where he is; bound to be back soonish. So John’s not with you, then?’

  Isn’t it obvious? She sat down on the edge of the nearest lounge chair with another deep sigh. ‘I’ve left him.’

  ‘Left him where, Emily?’ Enid asked, looking around again.

  ‘Left him, Mum. As in separated, pending divorce.’

  ‘Oh Emily, don’t be silly.’

  ‘I’m not Mum – it’s true.’

  ‘But whatever for?’

  ‘Because he is horrible and I’ve been miserable for far too long.’

  ‘Oh Emily, now you’re being melodramatic. He’s from such a good family – they’re the wealthiest people in the district.’

  ‘I don’t care. He’s a nasty piece of work.’

  ‘So what exactly happened to cause this little tiff?’

  ‘It isn’t a little tiff, Mum. I’m not going back.’

  ‘Of course you’re going back – once you see how silly you’re being. When you realise what you’re about to throw away. What you need to do is go back, apologise, and cook him a lovely meal – men have very simple needs, you know.’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to apologise for and I am not …’

  ‘Well, you’ve left the man – he’s probably quite beside himself. And what will the town think? What will people say?’

  ‘Mum! You’re not listening to me!’ Emily cried, ‘I am not apologising and I am not going back! It’s over!’

  ‘Now you are being melodramatic. I hope you haven’t made a silly decision you’ll live to regret. He’s got very wealthy parents, you know.’

  So you keep telling me. And the only thing I regret is coming here, Emily thought. Now she was angry at herself for believing things would be different. Why hadn’t she just picked up the bloody phone?

  ‘Look Mum, I only came to tell you in person. I’m going now.’ She stood up on shaky legs. Thank God she’d left her suitcases in the car and hadn’t turned up on the doorstep with them in hand like in the movies.

  ‘But you haven’t even told me what happened.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Mum,’ Emily said, beginning to make her way back to the door. Enid would never understand; it wasn’t worth the angst.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’ll stay with Barbara.’

  ‘But we’re family. You need family at a time like this.’

  Emily was almost at the door when her father entered.

  ‘Em!’ he cried. ‘What a lovely surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?’ He pulled her to him.

  ‘Hi Dad,’ Emily said weakly, and let herself be hugged.

  ‘Apparently she’s left her husband. Can you believe it?’ Enid Oliphant said. Emily pictured her mother pursing her lips and rolling her eyes, and was glad she had her back to her and couldn’t see.

  ‘Oh, you poor thing, are you okay?’ Des Oliphant asked, gently pushing her away to inspect her face.

  ‘Of course she’s not okay, Des. She’s about to throw her life away over some silly little tiff. You’ll have to talk some sense into her; she won’t take any notice of me.’

  ‘Dad, don’t waste your breath,’ Emily said wearily. ‘John’s horrible, I’ve been miserable for ages and now I’ve finally left him. There’s really nothing to discuss.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Des said, nodding.

  ‘Des, at least say something useful. It’s not fair enough; it’s a bloody disaster!’

  ‘You heard her – she’s miserable. I don’t know about you, Enid, but I don’t want my daughter to be miserable.’

  ‘Thanks Dad,’ Emily said, turning and offering him a forlorn smile. He seemed somehow different.

  ‘Oh God,’ Enid Oliphant said, throwing herself theatrically into one of the plush armchairs. ‘We’ll be a laughing stock. A failed marriage. And the Strattens – such a good family,’ she said, shaking her head. Lifting her head as if suddenly struck by a thought, she added, ‘I suppose that’ll mean no invitation to Thora’s garden party this year.’ She buried her head in her hands.

  ‘Enid, this is not about you!’

  A jolt ran through Emily; she’d never heard her father raise his voice to her mother before.

  ‘Dad, I’m going to go. I’ve clearly upset Mum.’

  ‘Well, she has no right to be upset,’ he said, shooting his wife a sharp glare as he followed Emily outside. ‘Don’t go. Come to the pub for a drink and tell me all about it,’ Des said when the door closed behind them.

  Emily looked at her father, her slight frown hiding the turmoil inside her. He’d just stood up to his wife, defended his daughter to her. Emily felt a twinge of guilt. She’d spent most of her life thinking her father spineless and pathetic. Had she been blind, or just blinded by her dominant mother?

  ‘Dad, I really appreciate you standing up for me, but I can’t do this right now. I need to go.’

  ‘But where will
you go?’

  ‘I’m going to stay with Barbara Burton for a couple of days while I sort a few things out – she’s been a really good friend.’

  ‘Well, as long as you’re not going to be alone. Promise you’ll call me if there’s anything I can do – anything.’

  ‘Okay, thanks Dad,’ she said, gave him another quick hug, and got into the car.

  Emily stopped in front of the roadhouse to phone Barbara and tell her she would be returning after all.

  Barbara made soothing noises before instructing her to drive safely. As Emily put the phone back in her handbag, she was struck by just how lucky she was to have met Barbara those few short weeks ago. Wasn’t it odd the way some things happened?

  Again the drive passed in a blur. Emily’s thoughts teetered between rage and frustration at her mother for not being more motherly, and anger at herself for expecting her to be suddenly different from what she’d always been.

  If only she’d just picked up the phone instead. But then she wouldn’t have seen her father. What was that about, anyway? Had he changed suddenly or had she read him wrong all these years?

  She shook the thought aside. Well, it was done; it was out in the open now. The whole district would know soon enough. Though not from her mother – Enid would not utter a word about having a daughter with a failed marriage. She’d be too humiliated.

  But word always managed to make its way around this small town with lightning speed – accuracy didn’t stand a chance. What would the gossipmongers make of her change in circumstances?

  She’d seen people’s lives ruined through seemingly harmless misquotes, mistaking of names, not to mention blatant ignorance of facts. The bush telegraph seemed to only work one way: bad news – interesting news – travelled around at three times the speed of good. Corrections rarely made it through at all.

  Granny Mayfair had always said that spreading gossip was the only way those with meaningless lives could get a bit of the limelight, and that rarely did truth play a part. This advice had kept Emily going through the cruel years of high school. If only Gran were here to guide her now.

  Emily thought, sardonically, that maybe she should take out an ad in the local paper announcing that, yes, she had left her husband, no, she wasn’t having an affair, and no, she had not decided to become a lesbian.