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Saving Grace

Page 28

by Fiona McCallum


  Emily halted her thoughts and reminded herself that she wasn’t either. You’ve just left your husband, for goodness sake! It’s the last thing you need.

  She was halfway through typing the two-word message, cursing all the time she was spending deleting the wrong letters and replacing them, when the phone began vibrating and then ringing in her hand. She got such a fright she almost dropped it.

  With a slightly shaking finger she pressed the accept button and answered tentatively, wondering as she did if she’d lost her half-done message.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Em, hi, it’s Jake. Did you get the picture I sent?’

  ‘Yes, it’s great. Sorry, I was just trying to reply. I so rarely text, I’m a bit slow.’

  ‘Hey, I’m not calling to tell you off for not replying. I’d just rather pick up the phone than send messages back and forth. Call me old-fashioned. But I did want you to see how pretty they looked all lined up on the bench – how the gorgeous colour lights up against the pale background. They’re like an art installation in their own right. Far too beautiful to eat.’

  ‘I can always make some more,’ Emily reminded him with a laugh.

  ‘You might have to when I sell all these for a fortune at the market.’

  ‘So you had a good trip back?’

  ‘Well, Elizabeth nearly drove me mad, but yes, we did arrive back safe and sound,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I would have liked to have taken it a bit easier, but she insisted we rush back for some reason, which she wasn’t prepared to tell me. Thanks again so much for having me stay.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Thank you again for the lovely mugs. I’m sorry the accommodation was a bit basic.’

  ‘You have nothing to apologise for. I had a great time, and got some fantastic shots, which was why I was really there. I’ll send you some when I’ve gone through them all. Are you on email?’

  ‘Not here, but I do check it occasionally at Barbara’s or the library.’ She rattled off her email address and added, ‘I look forward to seeing them some time. So when did you get back?’

  ‘Yesterday. We stayed in Adelaide Tuesday and Wednesday nights – Liz had some friends she wanted to catch up with – and then drove right through yesterday.’

  ‘Sounds exhausting,’ Emily said as her mind started going through the reasons why he hadn’t called her sooner. He was tired. He ran a successful business and probably had a stack of work to do after his time away. Or perhaps he had a girlfriend he had to catch up with.

  She was surprised at how much this thought stung, and instantly told herself to stop being so ridiculous – it wasn’t like there’d been anything between them.

  She gasped as Grace launched herself onto the bed and then into her lap. She let out a laugh as the dog tried to bury herself in the covers, obviously trying to gain some of her mistress’s attention. Emily giggled, for a second forgetting she was on the phone.

  ‘You still there, Em?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry, Grace is being naughty. Apparently I’ve been talking to you quite long enough.’

  ‘Does she want to talk to me?’

  ‘No, silly,’ Emily giggled. ‘She just wants all my attention.’

  ‘Well, I’ll let you go …’

  ‘No, don’t be ridiculous – it’ll do her good to be ignored for a few minutes, won’t it, Gracie – naughty girl?’ Emily said.

  ‘I’m happy to wait if you need to sort her out.’

  ‘No, that’s okay, but I don’t want to keep you if you have other things to do.’

  ‘Nothing pressing. But there is something I did want to discuss with you.’

  ‘Oh, what is that?’

  ‘Would you mind if my sister swapped your labels for something a little more eye-catching? It’s just that she was over here and is terribly keen to do it – she loves the chance to be creative and she thinks it might help with sales. But only if you don’t mind – it’s your jam.’

  ‘No, it’s not – you bought it, remember?’ Emily said with a laugh. ‘But seriously, go ahead, if she can be bothered.’

  ‘She’s very talented. And she’s really keen to give them the best chance of selling.’

  ‘Jake, I don’t want you getting your hopes up – it’s only a bit of homemade jam.’

  ‘Try telling that to my sister,’ he said, laughing. ‘Well, I’d better get going. I’ll let you know how it goes.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  There was a moment’s silence on the line before Jake spoke again. ‘Hey Em, I know you’ve been through some stuff, but you shouldn’t let your past adversely affect your future. Take a risk, believe in yourself, do something new – you never know where it might take you.’

  ‘Um, okay,’ she said. Are we still talking about jam?

  ‘Bye Em.’

  ‘Bye Jake. Thanks for calling.’

  Emily put the phone back down, feeling a little unsettled. Had he phoned out of friendship, or just about the jam and his sister’s involvement? It seemed so businesslike. And had ended quite abruptly. Had she said something wrong, inadvertently given some signal that she didn’t want things to be friendly between them?

  Perhaps she should have shown more interest in his sister. But he’d caught her on the hop – it was the last thing she’d expected. Not that she wasn’t pleased and grateful. She was incredibly chuffed he’d thought enough of her and her jam to even mention it to his sister.

  Emily picked up the phone again and dialled Barbara’s number, telling herself it was just one quick phone call, and it was necessary.

  ‘Hi Em, what’s happening?’

  ‘About that bet we had …’

  ‘He’s just called, has he?’

  ‘You are psychic!’

  ‘No, but you don’t normally sound this flustered at nine o’clock at night. So, what did he have to say?’

  ‘Not much. And I do not sound flustered, do I? No, don’t answer that. He sent a picture of my jam lined up on his kitchen bench – they look quite pretty really, the orange against the pale stone …’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘When I asked if he’d just called, you said he had – so, what did he want?’

  ‘To check if I minded if his sister did some different labels for them. Apparently she’s very talented and really wants to do it.’

  ‘Wow, that’s great. It’ll help them sell.’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘So why aren’t you sounding more excited?’

  ‘Barbara, it’s just homemade jam, for goodness sake. Why is everyone behaving like I’m the next Maggie Beer?’

  ‘Who’s to say you won’t be? And anyway, it’s not just homemade jam – it’s excellent homemade jam.’

  ‘Thanks, but honestly …’

  ‘Seriously, Em, you need to stop being so negative. That’s your mother’s gig, not yours. Don’t let her way of thinking jeopardise your future. You’ve been given this opportunity for a reason. You just need to trust it and accept that if it’s meant to be, it will be. Dare to be brave and think outside the square.’

  ‘That’s sort of what Jake said. Except for the bit about my mother.’

  ‘That’s because he’s too polite. But he is a smart man. Seriously, Em, don’t stress so much. You’re a strong and independent woman – the world is your oyster.’

  ‘Thanks Barbara.’

  ‘What for, confusing the hell out of you?’

  ‘No, silly. For being my friend, and keeping me on the straight and narrow.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘Well, I’d better go – this thing costs a bloody fortune.’

  ‘Pop over tomorrow for a cuppa if you want – David’s off to Adelaide with another load of wool so I’ll be all on my lonesome. I’m doing some cooking for the CWA trading table so I could do with the company, if you’re interested.’

  ‘Sounds like fun. Is nine too early?’

  ‘No, I’ll be up to see David off at fi
ve – so any time after that will be fine.’

  ‘Okay, see you in the morning.’

  ‘Okay, bye.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Grace patiently waited on the passenger seat of the car while Emily got out and walked around to open the door for her. Sasha appeared beside Emily, her tail wagging furiously but her sagging, overweight body struggling to join in.

  ‘Hello girl,’ Emily said, giving the robust dog a hearty pat. ‘I’ve brought you a visitor.’ She never ceased to enjoy the way Grace would greet her mother. No matter how recently they’d seen each other, Grace would clamber about like they’d been separated for years, trying to lick her mother all over her face while Sasha twisted her head this way and that to avoid her daughter’s tongue.

  The ritual was always the same. After ten minutes of frantic licking and clambering on Grace’s part, Sasha would take her out of sight, probably to proudly show off her stash of old bones or to dig one up. Or to explore any rabbit or rodent scents they could find.

  Barbara gave Emily a prolonged hug at the door. As they separated and Barbara stepped aside to welcome her friend, Emily saw that her eyes were red-rimmed. She silently followed Barbara down the hall, wondering whether it was just tiredness from getting up so early to see David off, or if something had happened.

  Barbara flicked on the kettle before sitting down heavily on one of the wooden kitchen chairs.

  ‘Barbara, are you okay?’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Em,’ she replied, patting her friend’s hand. ‘Doug passed away last night,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘We got the call at three this morning, and then David had to leave at five with the wool.’

  ‘He went? He’s still going to make the trip?’

  ‘He had to. It’s booked in for a sale on Tuesday. Anyway, Doug wouldn’t want everything to stop on his account,’ she smiled wanly.

  ‘So are you stuck with all the funeral arrangements, then? What can I do to help?’

  ‘Not quite – David’s going to call in and see the funeral people on his way through Whyalla. His brother William is going to meet him there. Works out quite well, really. We’re aiming for Thursday for the funeral. It’s going to be tight, but we wanted to get it over with before Christmas.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So anyway, today we get to cook for both the CWA Christmas trading table Tuesday and the funeral afternoon tea. We’re going to need our strength.’ Barbara started to get up. ‘Tea, coffee or Milo?’

  Emily put a hand on her friend’s. ‘I’ll get it. You stay there.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, but bring the green tin of biscuits from the pantry too.’

  ‘What would you like? Tea or coffee, or something a bit stronger?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Coffee would be good, thanks. I’ll leave it a while longer before I hop into the brandy.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s wise, David driving all that way on his own – you know, when he’s upset?’

  ‘He’ll be fine. He knows to stop if it all gets too much. He assured me he will. Part of me thinks it will be good for him to be alone with his thoughts and memories. It’ll give him plenty of time to start on the eulogy in peace too.’

  Barbara lapsed into her own memories of her father-in-law, a kind and generous man whom she’d never heard raise his voice.

  Emily had met Doug Burton a few times over the years at various town functions and at her grandparents’ place. She couldn’t remember ever sitting down and having a decent conversation with him, though, and now regretted not making more of an effort.

  ‘Oh hell, look at the time,’ Barbara said suddenly, looking up at the clock on the wall above the oven. ‘I can’t be sitting around here all day feeling sorry for myself. We’ve got a stack of cooking to get through.’

  ‘Can’t you get someone else to do the CWA’s stuff?’

  ‘They’re relying on me. I’m one of the youngest members they’ve got, so I have to do more than my share. Anyway,’ she added, smiling weakly, ‘I have you, don’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you do. Okay, come on then, what first?’

  They started by making a list of everything they could do that was suitable to freeze. That way they could double or quadruple recipes and get one variety out of the way before moving on. It was hardly MasterChf-appropriate, they laughed, but good enough for the country. Before long they had a fine, well-oiled production line working.

  ‘We should go into business,’ Barbara said, standing back at one point to stretch.

  ‘We are,’ Emily reminded her. ‘This is CWA business.’

  ‘I meant …’

  ‘I know what you meant. Anyway, haven’t you already suggested I become a world-renowned jam queen?’

  ‘Have you heard again from Jake?’

  ‘Barbara, he only called last night!’

  Barbara looked at her knowingly.

  ‘He won’t call until he has some news on the jam.’

  ‘You never know. He might just call to say hi, see how you are.’

  ‘Well, if you’re right, I hope only as a friend. I really don’t need a relationship just yet. My life’s a mess.’

  ‘No, it’s not – it’s a ball of wool just waiting to be unravelled. You’ve already found one end and have started unravelling.’

  ‘How do you figure that?’

  ‘Well, leaving John, taking a stand for the future, renting your own place, and exploring possibilities, like the jam.’

  ‘But nothing might come of that.’

  ‘So what? If that’s the case you’ll find something else to explore. But at least you’re considering different avenues. That’s the problem with this town, Em, far too many people are content to just go along with the way things have been forever. Nothing can change without you first having an idea or a dream.’

  ‘Speaking of which, remember I was telling you about the visitor we had while Jake and Elizabeth were at the house – the Bakers’ cousin? I can’t help feeling I’m even further away from one day owning the house now Tara Wickham is in the picture.’

  ‘Put her out of your mind. I doubt Donald and Trevor could be talked into something they didn’t agree with. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Meanwhile, just keep on dreaming. It’s a good distraction.’

  ‘Hmm, you know, I really didn’t like how nosy she was about the house,’ Emily said, beating the sugar, butter and eggs in her bowl more furiously than was necessary. ‘I might be just being paranoid, but she seemed to be really looking it up and down as she passed through.’

  ‘Well, it is looking great now you’ve painted and done the floors.’

  ‘She didn’t offer any compliments, but that must be it,’ Emily said, frowning.

  As she continued cooking, Emily’s mind kept wandering back to thoughts of owning the house and the bit of land around it. It had become a common theme in her head of late, and in her dreams. Just the romantic in her – wanting to fulfil the great Australian dream of home ownership, she supposed.

  Forcing the subject from her mind, she tried to concentrate on ensuring each spoonful of biscuit mixture on the tray was the same size.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  The late afternoon sun was streaming through the window when Barbara finally declared that their work for the day was done.

  They’d created dozens of chocolate and strawberry lamingtons, and plain and chocolate-cream cupcakes, slabs of fruit cake, loaves of jubilee and date cake, and several small mountains of scones and biscuits.

  Everything for the funeral had been put in the freezer, and the produce for the CWA stall had been sealed in plastic bags, priced, and stored in large Tupperware containers.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ Barbara said, putting the last of the dishes on the rack for Emily to dry. She pulled the plug and then peeled each rubber glove off, slapping them onto the side of the empty sink in a deliberate gesture of finality. ‘You must be too. Thanks for all your help.’

/>   ‘My pleasure. It’s been fun, though I’d rather not see another baking tray, cake tin or cooling rack for a few days.’

  ‘I second that. But boy does it feel good to have it all done. So, now we have to find something for dinner.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I can have something when I get home. I’d better get going soon, anyway – Madam Grace will be wanting her dinner too.’

  ‘It’s really no trouble. There’s leftover lasagne in the fridge. Otherwise there’s a chicken casserole in the freezer that won’t take long to defrost.’

  ‘In that case, lasagne would be lovely.’

  ‘That’s that solved, then. Oh, I’ve just remembered, David asked me to check out a couple of things online – I’d better do that before he calls. Did you want to check your email?’

  ‘That’d be great, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course – let’s do it while the food heats up.’

  ‘Good idea. My head’s still in sweet mode. I’m not quite ready to face real food just yet.’

  They settled in front of the computer in the small office in the back room of the house. It only took them a few minutes to finish what they needed to do – Barbara to print out the latest Bureau of Meteorology weather maps and grain and wool prices, and Emily to sort through her emails that, disappointingly, consisted mainly of advertisements for male sexual performance enhancers and very generous offers of money from associates of the (nonexistent) Pakistani royal family.

  Emily let out a sigh, unaware she’d done so until Barbara shot her a glance.

  ‘Were you expecting something else?’ Barbara asked.

  Emily flushed slightly. ‘No, not really, just wishful thinking,’ she said with a wan smile. ‘Jake said he’d send some photos through. I clearly do not have enough occupying my mind – I’m getting obsessed,’ she said, forcing a laugh.

 

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