Saving Grace

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Urn …’

  ‘It’s a bargain, just one hundred dollars a week – including utilities,’ David said, materialising beside them. ‘Isn’t it great?’ he said, beaming at Enid.

  Enid stood there with her mouth open.

  ‘You must be Enid. I’m David Burton. I believe you’ve met my wife, Barbara? Hi Des,’ he continued, not waiting for a response. He and Des shook hands. ‘Do you want a hand unloading the trailer?’

  ‘Thanks, that would be great. I thought we’d unload everything onto the verandah in case that rain comes in.’

  ‘What’s the point?’ Enid said, looking up. ‘It’s probably full of holes.’

  ‘Well, we’ll soon find out,’ Des said cheerfully.

  ‘I’ve got some extra tarps in the ute, so it won’t be a problem,’ David said.

  ‘And you’re absolutely sure about living here, Emily? It’s not too late, you know – we can easily take the trailer back home.’

  ‘Positive, Mum. I can’t wait to get myself set up, paint it, make it nice and homey.’

  ‘You won’t want to waste your energy or money on a rental – the owners get all the benefit.’

  ‘Not if Em finds a way to own it one day,’ David said.

  Emily cringed. Please don’t say another word.

  ‘Why ever would she want to do that? It’s disgusting!’

  ‘No way, it’s got loads of potential,’ David enthused.

  ‘Potential to be nothing more than a giant money pit. Desmond, speak to your daughter. Make her see what a ludicrous idea this is.’

  ‘It looks pretty solid to me,’ Des Oliphant said, looking around him.

  ‘Des, don’t encourage this ridiculousness!’

  ‘Well, I …’ Des began, sounding torn.

  ‘The important thing is that I’ve found somewhere to live,’ Emily cut in.

  ‘Well, I have offered the caravan. It has all you need, and it’s clean,’ Enid said.

  ‘I don’t want the damn caravan,’ Emily snapped, instantly disappointed with herself.

  ‘Emily, language!’

  ‘And what if you want to go off in it some time?’ Emily added in an attempt to mollify her mother.

  ‘Yes, well, I suppose that’s a good point. And if this is only going to be temporary, I suppose it won’t be quite so bad. I’d still put a bulldozer through it,’ she added as she stepped gingerly into the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Just as they were stowing the last of Emily’s possessions on the verandah, the dark hovering clouds descended and opened up, delivering a heavy, prolonged downpour. There were even a few claps of thunder as the late spring storm made its way past. Emily, David and Des paused on the verandah, enjoying the change of temperature and the sound of the rain beating on the iron roof.

  ‘Great,’ David groaned. ‘At this rate I’ll never get harvest finished.’

  ‘Have you got much left to do?’ Des asked.

  ‘About a third,’ David replied. ‘It’s been so stop-start this year, thanks to the intermittent rain and cool weather; really frustrating when we’ve finally got a decent crop to reap. We’re going to have a problem with shot grain if we get much more of this. Especially if there’s a sudden burst of hot weather on top of it.’

  ‘You farmers certainly have a lot to contend with,’ Des said. ‘I often used to think how lucky I was to have my regular council salary and be able to clock off properly at the end of each day.’

  ‘In a way, I wouldn’t actually mind if this turns into a hailstorm and wipes the rest of it out,’ David said, nodding skywards. ‘I’m insured for hail and it’ll save me a hell of a lot of frustration and stuffing about.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Des said.

  ‘It’d make life a bit easier, that’s all. But it’s going to do what it’s going to do. No point worrying about it. I reckon we should get into the roof space and check for leaks while it’s raining,’ David added, entering the hallway and grabbing his ladder.

  ‘Good idea. Two pairs of eyes are better than one,’ Des said, following him into the second bedroom on the southern side of the hall.

  For about the twentieth time, Emily wondered if she was doing the right thing. She really hadn’t given much thought to basics like a sound roof above her head. Fingers crossed it would all be okay. Please don’t let my mother be right, she thought, glancing up at the creaking sounds above her head as the men now made their way inside the roof space.

  Pity the drought has ended, really she thought, and instantly felt ashamed. People’s livelihoods relied on rain. Except when they were meant to be harvesting, like now. The weather had become unseasonably cool and damp just when they wanted it warm and dry. Too dry, too wet, too windy, not enough breeze – there was always something for the farmers to be complaining about. And John had done more than his fair share.

  Emily had been raised a townie; she’d only been a temporary farmer while married to John. And she hadn’t really even been that – thanks to John’s secrecy.

  Townies knew the importance of good seasons to the district as a whole – both in terms of economics and emotional stability – but they didn’t run out to check their rain gauge after every shower like the farmers seemed to.

  She was distracted from her thoughts by her mother’s raised voice coming from the kitchen, and then Barbara’s normally low tone rising sharply above it.

  ‘With all due respect, Mrs Oliphant – Enid – I think if Emily wants to do this then we, as her family and friends, should support her. The last thing she needs right now is more angst; she’s suddenly alone, without a job, and with nowhere to live. She’s picking herself up and sorting things out …’

  ‘Well, she wouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t left John! And she has family for support, if only she’d ask for it!’

  Emily cringed at her mother’s words. She knew she should go in there and rescue Barbara, but couldn’t make her feet move.

  ‘And I’m of the opinion that a person’s happiness and emotional wellbeing are the most important things,’ Barbara continued. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s something I need to get from outside.’

  Barbara erupted from the kitchen and fled down the hall, clearly furious. Emily stepped aside to avoid being bowled over. But it was as if her friend hadn’t even seen her.

  Moments later, her perfectly composed mother entered the hall and strode purposefully towards the front door.

  ‘I really wish you would reconsider. There is a perfectly good bed at home with your parents,’ Enid said with a sniff.

  Emily opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again. It didn’t matter – she was already out the door and on her way to the ute. Anyway, what could she say? Her mother was right: she wouldn’t be in this mess – setting up house in this dump – if she hadn’t left John. And she did have family to rely on. She’d just rather not.

  She was blinking and swallowing, furiously trying to stop the inevitable flood of tears, and telling herself she was just overtired and to stop feeling sorry for herself, when her father appeared at her side.

  ‘I think you’ll be all right – we couldn’t find any major leaks.’

  ‘Thanks Dad.’

  ‘Of course, any time.’ He paused. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’

  ‘Dad, you don’t think I’ve done the wrong thing too, do you?’

  ‘My opinion, or that of your mother, isn’t what’s important here, Em.’

  ‘But what do you think?’

  ‘Do you mean leaving John or moving here?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘I think you’ve done the right thing. But as I said, your opinion is the only one that matters. Only you can decide what you’re not prepared to live with and for whatever reason.’

  Emily noticed his face cloud over slightly. But the expression was brief and he was soon back to his cheery self.

  ‘I know it seems hard, but you’ll see, everything will work itself out – it always does. It�
��s the way the world works. Now, I’d better get your mother home – unless there’s something else that needs doing immediately. I think a few days spent painting and sanding floors will bring her up quite a treat. Just let me know when you want me.’

  ‘Thanks, I really appreciate it.’

  ‘Better be off before your mother starts bellowing.’ He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, and was striding down the hall while Emily was still processing his words. He’d sounded so like Granny Mayfair she was suddenly a little unnerved.

  Emily followed him to the front door. She felt strange, but couldn’t put her finger on exactly how. Out on the verandah she waved to her parents as they turned the ute and trailer around and started down the long driveway.

  Barbara and David appeared next to her.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ Barbara said, sitting down.

  ‘Me too,’ Emily said, sinking down next to her on to the cracked, faded red-painted concrete of the verandah. It was quite dark due to the lingering storm clouds. She checked her watch – six o’clock.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone?’ Barbara said.

  ‘I won’t be alone – I have Grace.’

  ‘I know, but wouldn’t you rather stay another night with us – have a nice soak in the bath before roughing it?’

  ‘You’re sounding like my mother,’ Emily said, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You’ve both been great and I really appreciate everything you’ve done, but I have to do this sooner or later – and I may as well start tonight.’

  ‘Okay. But I’m going to miss you. And we’re not far away – you only have to call.’

  ‘Well, at least the power works and you have hot running water,’ David added cheerfully. ‘Hard to believe the old girl was so easy to start after being idle for so long. They certainly don’t make things like they used to. And the roof doesn’t seem to leak. We should get going so you can get well and truly settled before it gets dark.’

  ‘Yes, you guys go,’ Emily said, sounding more persuasive than she actually felt. She suddenly wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being in the old house on her own after dark. ‘And again, thanks for everything – I really couldn’t have done this without you.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’ll still be thanking us tomorrow!’ Barbara said.

  Me too.

  ‘Come on, dear.’ David held his hand out to Barbara.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, accepting David’s hand and easing herself onto her feet. ‘Promise you’ll ring or send a text first thing and let me know you’re okay.’

  ‘To let you know I didn’t get eaten by giant mice or that the ghosts didn’t strangle me, you mean?’ Emily said with a laugh. ‘Barbara, seriously, I’ll be fine.’ I will be fine.

  ‘Just promise you’ll call. Otherwise I’ll be over here checking on you at nine.’

  ‘Okay, I promise. Now go, before I set Grace on to you,’ Emily said, making shooing motions with her hands.

  They hugged and Emily watched as David, Barbara and Sasha made their way to the ute.

  ‘See you,’ they called as they drove away.

  Emily waved and watched them until they were swallowed by the stand of gums. Then she turned and looked down the long empty hall. Now what? She suddenly felt the weight of the long night looming ahead of her.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Grace was whining at the gate and Emily went to let her out. Still feeling a little lost, she looked across to the west where the sun was disappearing behind the small group of hills that flanked the old shearing shed and smaller outbuildings. She hadn’t yet explored beyond the immediate house.

  It had all happened so fast. She and Barbara had spent the day inside focussing on making her comfortable. Only David had looked around outside. She suddenly remembered the key in her pocket. Leaving Grace in the house, Emily strode around the verandah to the locked door at the back, the one she figured was almost certainly the entrance to a cellar. She fished the key from her pocket and tried it in the lock.

  It gave easily, but the door was another matter. It needed a hefty shove to budge, and when it did, the hinges gave a deep squeal that penetrated right to Emily’s spine and caused her heart to quicken.

  Right at that moment, the sun disappeared behind the hill, taking the last of the full light and sending long eerie shadows across the ground and house walls around her. The suddenness took Emily by surprise. She pulled the door closed, locked it, and bolted back around to the front door like a child trying to outrun her own shadow.

  Back inside, with the front door shut and locked, she tried to laugh off her wildly pounding heart. Oblivious to her mistress’s distress, Grace sniffed her way back and forth across the hall.

  Jesus, Em, get a grip! Emily told herself with both hands on her chest. ‘Right, getting a grip, getting a grip,’ she muttered, squaring her shoulders. She went down to the kitchen. Despite being grimy and in need of a shower, there was no way she was going to sit out in the outhouse bathroom, vulnerable to the world. Instead she set about fossicking through the box of food Barbara and David had left.

  Every few minutes she called Grace to her, hoping for some moral support. But after appearing obediently, the dog would trot off again when no further instructions were given, the click-click of her claws echoing through the empty house.

  Emily rinsed her plate and cutlery at the sink, unable to see out the window because of the well-lit room behind her. Although she knew there’d be no one around to be looking in, the lack of blinds and curtains made her uneasy.

  Just as she turned away there was a sharp piercing screech close by, followed by the unmistakeable flap of loose iron. Startled, her hand again flew to her chest. She turned slowly back to the window.

  Something jagged flashed into view, and Emily leapt back without turning. She glanced towards the ceiling as wind whistled through the roof space above, causing the whole house to shudder and rumble. The loose iron flapped a few more times and settled back into silence. The jagged shapes came into view again at the window.

  ‘Phew,’ Emily sighed, letting her breath go. It was nothing more than a tree caught in a few gusts of wind. She stood with her hand across her heart, trying to take slow, deep, calming breaths. Grace wandered in and gave her a cursory glance, still seemingly unaware of her mistress’s fear.

  Emily watched the dog follow her nose, zigzagging her way across the kitchen. And then she saw it: the front half of a mouse poking out from under the cupboard.

  Grace had seen it too. The dog skittered across the lino, sliding into the wall when she didn’t have enough traction to stop. But the mouse was too quick. Grace whined and howled and scratched at the floor before Emily told her to stop.

  Bloody hell, how many mice were hiding in shadows and crevices waiting for her to go to bed before coming out? And what if there were rats? How was she going to sleep now?

  She could almost feel her skin crawl as she imagined the touch of small scratchy rodent feet, and those of the spiders and other insects that no doubt infested the old house. Why did everything have to be bloody nocturnal?

  Emily let out a deep sigh. She was exhausted. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock, and not even fully dark, but she didn’t care. She went down to the room that she’d chosen for her bedroom, grabbed David’s rolled up swag from the floor, and carried it back to the kitchen. There was no way she was sleeping on the floor – in any part of the house. But the huge kitchen table would make a perfect bed.

  She paused at each light switch as she passed. Considering her fellow nocturnal inhabitants, Emily would have loved to leave the house ablaze, but she didn’t want to risk a whopping power bill down the track.

  She snuggled down into the swag fully dressed. Grace was lying quietly in her basket in the corner, with one eye on the cupboard where the mouse had appeared. As she lay there in the dark, Emily ran through the list of things she needed to do to be comfortable. But far from helping her sleep, she found it ov
erwhelming.

  Was her mother right – had she made a terrible mistake? Should she just swallow her pride and take up the offer of the caravan? The holier-than-thou looks and comments would surely stop in a week, right? Obviously it wasn’t the best outcome, but it would be better than being eaten alive.

  At least they hadn’t wasted time, effort and money painting the whole house. Maybe it isn’t meant to be.

  But a question continued to niggle her. Which was worse? Being beholden to her mother or fending off a few rodents?

  Some time later she woke with a start. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She had no idea what had woken her, but whatever it was had given both her and Grace a fright. Her heart was racing and Grace was whimpering.

  Emily sat up, listening intently. Apart from a pounding pulse in her ears, her quick, shallow breaths and Grace’s whimpering, the house was silent. There wasn’t even any wind whistling or flapping iron to be heard. For the first time she realised just how eerie the silence was.

  Then she heard a slight rustle on the floor over by the sink. Probably the bloody mice, Emily thought, but in the dark she had no way of knowing. She hadn’t brought the torch up onto the table with her.

  Or had she, and that was what had woken her? She cast her mind back. No, she’d left it on the bench by the sink. Perhaps that was what had woken her – it had fallen and then rolled a little as it settled. Yes, that’s it, Emily reassured herself.

  ‘It’s okay, Gracie, just a little noise – go back to sleep.’ But as she lay there, trying to talk herself back to sleep, Emily found herself wondering how the heavy torch could have fallen off the bench. And why not when she’d first put it there? Mice?

  Bloody hell, she thought suddenly, her heart beginning to race again. What if the house is haunted?

  She sat up again and looked around – for what, she wasn’t sure. The first grey signs of morning were shining through the window over the sink and the glass-panelled doors out to the verandah.

  She rubbed her eyes. They felt swollen, burning and gravel-filled. Had she slept at all? She certainly didn’t feel like it. But the prospect of daylight chased the nighttime demons away. She felt ridiculously childish. There was no way she could tell Barbara how scared she’d been – it was just a silly noise.