Saving Grace

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Liz said.

  ‘Nope,’ Emily replied, smirking.

  Jake followed her directions and before long they were parked where they had a full side-on view of the enormous sculpture that stood about two stories high.

  ‘Welcome to the Big Wallaby-Once-Kangaroo!’ Emily declared, putting her hands on Liz and Jake’s shoulders. ‘Isn’t it something?’

  ‘Yep, it’s that all right,’ Liz said.

  ‘The question is, why?’ Jake said, shaking his head.

  ‘The big ram was already taken, as was the big farmer, and pretty much everything else that relates to this area. There is actually another kangaroo somewhere. I wouldn’t have minded an emu – there are plenty of live ones around here. But anyway, it’s a bit late now.’

  ‘I’ve just got to get a photo of this,’ Jake said, undoing his seatbelt and getting out.

  ‘Don’t say I don’t present you with the best photo opportunities,’ Emily said, laughing. ‘Come on, Gracie.’

  Liz and Emily got out. Grace trotted over to where Jake already had his camera out and was lining up the object for a photo.

  ‘The sign says Giftware. I wonder if there’s anything suitable for Mum for Christmas,’ Liz said, looking in the direction of the nearby shop.

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it, unless you want to get her a set of placemats, coasters or stubby holders adorned in pictures of a kitsch, stumpy wallaby-slash-kangaroo sculpture.’

  ‘Come on, you all have to pose for me,’ Jake called. ‘It’s a pity the pouch is so high up – how cool would a photo of Grace peeping out of it have been? Oh well. Gather around, gather around.’

  Emily and Liz put their arms around each other and pulled silly faces while Jake snapped away. They allowed him one serious one with them smiling like well-behaved, mature adults.

  ‘One more serious one with Grace, though I can only fit up to the pouch. It looks like you’re standing in front of a big pile of poo from here,’ he said with a chuckle, his eye on the viewfinder. ‘What fun,’ he said, when he’d finished and was putting the lens cap back on the camera. ‘Now let’s see what the shop has to offer.’

  ‘I’ll wait outside with Grace,’ Emily said.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jake said.

  ‘Trust me, you won’t be long,’ she said knowingly.

  Ten minutes later, significantly longer than Emily had anticipated, Liz and Jake emerged carrying a couple of small, thin paper bags, and three bulging ones. They crossed to where Emily was perched on the wallaby’s long back feet, in the shade of its front paws. Grace was snoozing at her feet.

  ‘For you,’ Jake said, handing Emily one of the small bulging paper bags.

  ‘Er, thank you. What is it?’ she asked, taking it from him, instantly detecting warmth.

  ‘A kangaroo hotdog. The sign above the counter says they’re famous for them.’

  Emily was doubtful.

  ‘If you don’t like it, I’m sure Grace will happily take it off your hands.’

  At hearing her name, Grace sat to attention, her gaze shifting between Jake and Emily. She was concentrating so hard her tail was completely still.

  Liz and Jake settled on the base of the town’s mascot and they all unwrapped the tops from their hotdog packaging. Emily hadn’t thought she’d want lunch yet after the big breakfast they’d had a mere few hours earlier. But as the warm bread, onion and meat smells wafted out of the bag, her mouth began to water.

  ‘Mmm,’ Jake murmured through his first mouthful.

  ‘It’s actually quite good,’ Liz said.

  ‘Mmm, it is. Thanks very much. Sorry Gracie,’ Emily said. But she gave in to the dog’s pleading look and ripped a bit of bread off and fed it to her.

  ‘Surely there’s something wrong in celebrating an animal with a giant monument and then selling its meat stuffed into a bread roll,’ Jake said, looking down at his food and shaking his head slowly with wonder.

  ‘Oh well, it tastes great to me,’ Liz said, taking another large bite.

  Emily was surprised Liz was tucking in with such gusto. She’d been a little concerned at the prospect of taking her to the pub for lunch.

  ‘So, what else did you buy?’ Emily asked, nodding at the other white paper bags lying beside Jake and Liz.

  ‘Fridge magnet and a postcard,’ Jake said.

  ‘I got a fridge magnet too,’ Liz said. ‘It says “I hopped through Charity Flat”. I’ve never seen anything so tacky – I just had to have it for a laugh. And to provide proof of actually being at the Big Wallaby. No one in Melbourne will believe me otherwise.’

  ‘Oh, come on, surely the Big Wallaby has made Charity Flat famous right across the country,’ Emily said, in mock consternation.

  ‘Afraid not. I hope there’ll be somewhere else here that might have something for Mum for Christmas,’ Liz said.

  ‘Oh God. Christmas, what a pain!’ Emily declared. ‘We stopped exchanging presents and doing all the Christmas palaver years ago. We don’t even put up a tree anymore.’

  ‘Where’s your Christmas spirit?’ Liz asked, aghast.

  ‘Gone. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just far too commercial. It’s all about presents. And these days everyone has everything they need and you just end up exchanging useless crap or vouchers. I don’t see the point.’

  ‘And spending the day with people who drive you mad – that’s also what Christmas seems to be about,’ Liz added thoughtfully.

  ‘Listen to you two,’ Jake chided. ‘You should start an anti-Christmas club.’

  ‘I’m already in one, remember,’ Emily said with a chuckle.

  ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think my parents would let me get away with it,’ Liz said soberly. ‘No idea why Enid has subscribed; I would have thought she’d be clambering to have a houseful to impress.’

  ‘I know, who would have thought?’

  ‘Right, where to next?’ Jake asked, giving Grace the end of his bun before scrunching up his paper bag.

  ‘There’s not a whole lot to see – just a couple of streets. But there are a few nice old stone buildings you might like to take some photos of. The pub’s worth seeing, and the Institute. And the War Memorial Garden is quite pretty.’

  ‘Sounds good to me. Ready to go, then?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Yep, let’s do it,’ Liz said.

  They got up and made their way back to the car, putting their rubbish in the bin on their way past.

  They drove up and down the few streets, which were laid out in a north-south, east-west grid, the same as Wattle Creek and many other South Australian towns.

  In addition to Emily’s suggested stops, Jake pulled up alongside the huge white grain silos and old railway siding. Emily didn’t see what was interesting about the huge white concrete structures – she saw silos most days of her life – but she kept her opinion to herself. The girls waited in the car with Grace.

  Jake was particularly taken with the hotel, as Emily knew he would be. Its stonework was lovely, and the unbecoming nineteen-sixties features had been removed during its full restoration. She’d left it until last so they could have a late afternoon tea or early dinner before setting off home.

  They parked the car in front of the hotel and walked the almost empty main street, each taking turns to hold Grace and wait outside while the others went into the shops. Across the road was a newsagent, a bank and a clothing store with a giftware section out the back. The side with the hotel also held the post office, a pharmacy, another bank, and a farm supplies and fodder store.

  Emily hadn’t thought Jake and Liz would be remotely interested in the fodder store, and followed them in bewilderedly. She was becoming bored of feeling like a tour guide; there was nothing worse than shopping when you had no money to spend. Thankfully she hadn’t seen much she would have bought, anyway.

  The last stop before the hotel was another gift shop. Emily expected more kitsch giftware, as had been in the shop across the road, but gasped when they wa
lked in. As did Liz. Surrounding them was a fine selection of good quality merchandise: photo frames, homewares, accessories like scarves and wraps, gloves and hats. It was a case of sensory overload, but in a good way – except for the depressing fact that she had no money to spend. She ambled around picking up bits and pieces and showing an interest. She would have loved some of the gorgeous red-and-white and black-and-white-spotted mugs. She sighed to herself and put them back down; the mugs her dad had picked up from the shack sale were perfectly fine. She went outside to relieve Jake of Grace and let him have a look around the shop.

  Emily got a shock when she checked her watch and found it was almost five o’clock. The lady would want to shut up the shop soon. A few minutes later Liz appeared beside her, laden with parcels, and announced she was done. Jake followed soon after, also carrying a parcel.

  ‘I think I’m in need of a beer,’ he declared as they left the shop.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Liz announced.

  They put their shopping in the car, and after Jake had taken some photos of the exterior of the hotel, they went inside. They agreed Grace was probably tired enough to stay in the car for a little while.

  ‘Oh, isn’t this lovely?’ Liz said as they entered a small area set up with café tables and chairs and a glass display full of pies and cakes. ‘Ooh look, a coffee machine. I’d kill for a decent latte!’

  ‘You girls get settled, I’m just going to have a quick look around,’ Jake said.

  Emily chose a seat with a clear view of Jake’s car through the window. She was pleased to see no sign of Grace looking distressed; the dog was no doubt fast asleep after walking the street on her little legs.

  As Emily sat, she marvelled at Jake’s confidence. Walking through a country pub was disconcerting when you were an outsider; people tended to stare. She couldn’t imagine taking photos while being openly stared at.

  ‘Coffee, Em? My buy,’ Liz called from the counter.

  ‘Thanks Liz, but I’d prefer a hot chocolate if they have it.’

  ‘No worries.’ A few moments later Liz returned with three laminated menu cards. ‘I wouldn’t mind a piece of the chocolate torte, but it’s too close to dinnertime. The menu looks good,’ she said, handing Emily one.

  Soon after, Jake put a large glass of beer on the table and his camera on an empty chair and sat down.

  ‘Nice place,’ he said. ‘And the people seem friendly enough.’

  Moments later a waitress appeared beside them.

  ‘Latte?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s me. Thanks very much,’ Liz said.

  ‘There you are,’ the woman said, putting the two mugs down.

  ‘Cheers,’ Jake said, raising his glass to their mugs. ‘Here’s to another great day and Emily’s wonderful hospitality.’

  They clinked glasses and then took their time over their drinks, perusing the menus while waiting for the clock over the counter to reach six – the time stated on the menu when evening meals could be ordered.

  Emily had a battle between her tastebuds and her conscience before deciding that one T-bone out wouldn’t break the bank. She hadn’t bought steak since leaving John – it was so much dearer than lamb. But now she had an intense craving for some.

  When the clock showed six, Jake got up and took their orders – three steaks cooked medium and with mushroom sauce. Emily moved to get her wallet from her handbag, but Jake put a hand on her arm and told her he was paying. She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her sleeve long after he left the table. She had to forcibly stop herself from staring at his jeans-clad backside as he stood with his back to them.

  The food was divine and they all raved over their first few mouthfuls before settling down to eat. Emily felt a sense of pride and satisfaction at hearing the city slickers enjoying their country pub meal so much.

  Chapter Forty-six

  They got back just on dark and Emily was pleased they’d taken Grace with them. Otherwise she’d have been left alone outside the house, most likely terrified.

  ‘I’m just going to pack all my stuff so we can get an early start,’ Elizabeth announced as Emily closed the front door behind them.

  ‘I think I’ll do the same,’ Jake said.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Emily said, feeling her heart sink at the reminder her guests – particularly Jake – were leaving so soon.

  ‘That was quick,’ Emily said when Jake appeared in the kitchen less than ten minutes later. He went to the table and sat down.

  ‘Now, Em, about the jam,’ he said. ‘I was serious the other day when we were talking about the markets.’

  ‘But wouldn’t heaps of people be selling homemade jam already?’ Emily asked.

  ‘I haven’t seen any,’ he said. ‘I could buy some from you and then if it don’t sell I could keep it – that would be fair, wouldn’t it?’

  Emily nodded. ‘I guess.’

  ‘So, how would you feel about me taking, say, twenty jars with me?’

  If he’d said two, she would have willingly given them to him. But twenty?! ‘Hmm, okay.’

  ‘Would one hundred dollars cover it?’

  ‘That’s five dollars a jar! Jake, that’s way too much.’

  ‘No, it’s not; five dollars is about right.’

  ‘The op shop and CWA trading table here wouldn’t sell it for more than two dollars.’

  ‘That’s because they probably have heaps to sell. It’s all about demand and supply, and about what people will pay. Em, seriously, I think I could get more than five dollars a jar for it at South Melbourne.’

  ‘How about you pay me two dollars fifty a jar, and whatever else you make on top of that you keep. How’s that? Fair?’

  ‘Okay, if you insist,’ Jake said with a shrug, and put one of the fifties back in his pocket. ‘Write down your postal address, so I can send you a cheque when I prove you wrong,’ he said, grinning, and pushing the pad of paper and pen that lived on the end of the table towards her.

  ‘Okay,’ Emily said, smiling back. She almost wrote the number for the post box she and John had shared, and only caught herself just in time. She automatically added her mobile number to the bottom and then had second thoughts. But it was too late; it would look weird to scrub it out or screw up the page and start again.

  As she folded it in half and handed it over, Emily wondered if she should have added her email address. She wasn’t really much into emailing; all she seemed to receive was junk. She’d checked her email at Barbara’s a couple of times, but since moving in here hadn’t given it another thought. Until now.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll let you know how we go.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said, pocketing the fifty-dollar note. ‘I’ll find you a box and some packaging so they don’t rattle and drive you mad all the way back to Melbourne.’

  ‘No rush,’ he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s have a cuppa and then deal with it. You sit, I’ll get it – Milo, I presume at this hour?’

  ‘Yes thanks,’ Emily beamed back at him, and went to sit in what had now become her regular seat at the end of the table. While she watched Jake, she marvelled at how thoughtful he was, and decided she’d like to keep in touch and stay friends. Oh well, it was up to him – he had her number. She was pleased about that now.

  For a fleeting moment Emily imagined herself visiting him in Melbourne. But she couldn’t do that without spending most of her time with her cousin, and after the last few days, she was beginning to realise she didn’t even like Elizabeth all that much.

  Emily had always thought it was some weird tall-poppy, competitive thing she felt towards her older cousin. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  ‘I’ll let you know how your jam goes,’ Jake called from the passenger window as he and Elizabeth drove away.

  ‘I look forward to it. And thanks so much again for the mugs – I love them.’

  A big smile was plastered on Emily’s face and she waved until they
disappeared into the trees. She couldn’t believe they’d bought her two black-and-white and two red-and-white mugs as a thankyou gift – the very ones she’d been admiring. Perhaps the woman in the shop had told them.

  She bent down and patted Grace, who was sitting beside her.

  ‘It’s just us again now, Gracie.’

  Back inside, she flicked the switch on the kettle and slumped into her chair at the end of the table. She felt strangely heavy of heart. Grace looked just as forlorn.

  ‘It’s ridiculous, us being all mopey. The world hasn’t stopped because they’ve left.’ Maybe it was hormones. She’d stopped taking the pill when she’d split from John and no longer knew where in her cycle she was. Perhaps these unexplained waterworks meant her period was near.

  She got up and changed chairs to where she’d sat prior to Jake and Elizabeth’s arrival, facing the bench and the window above it.

  Jake’s last words, ‘I’ll let you know how the jam goes,’ ran through her head as she sat tapping her fingers on the table. She looked over at Grace and tried to calculate just when that would be.

  ‘If they get back to Melbourne on Friday or Saturday, will Jake have time to put the jam in Sunday’s market? If he does, he might call Monday, or even Sunday night. If we’re lucky.’

  Grace cocked an eyebrow, as if unused to hearing her mistress talking to herself.

  ‘Stop staring at me like that. It’s about the jam; I’m keen to hear about how the jam sells. That’s all.’ Emily let out a deep sigh and knelt down to scratch Grace under the chin. And then it hit her. ‘Oh God, I’ve got a crush on him, haven’t I? Bloody hell, that’s the last thing I need. I guess it’s for the best that he lives in another state.’

  She looked at Grace for answers, but the dog wandered over to her bed and lay down with a loud groan.

  ‘Thanks, you’re a big help. Come on, Gracie, let’s go for a walk to cheer us up.’

  As soon as she said the words, Grace bounded up and over to her again. Emily liked that about having a pet – that you could confess your innermost thoughts and you wouldn’t be mocked. And you’d always have good company for a walk. She pulled on her comfortable walking shoes and Akubra hat.