The House At the End of the Street

by Jennie Jones

  Josh grinned. ‘Why don’t you have dinner at the hotel?’

  ‘No time, Josh. I’m in the middle of a ruckus.’

  Nothing unusual there, most ruckuses Ted got himself involved in had been started by Ted in the first place. ‘About what?’

  ‘Need eyes in the back of my head, that’s what I need.’ Ted waved his hand up Main Street, northern end. ‘Pebble Creek Wind Farm. Heard about that wherever it is you’ve been?’

  Josh nodded, and ignored the judgement in Ted’s voice. ‘Someone told me it’s been underway for twelve months now. I presume Swallow’s Fall is going to be advantaged by it?’

  ‘Seven thousands homes in the Snowy Mountains vicinity will be advantaged by it.’

  ‘So what’s the ruckus about?’

  ‘The blasted women. One wedding, two or three engagements, and the women in town have gone soft in the head.’

  Josh glanced up at the population sign outside the town hall. ‘Hoping to up the numbers again, are they?’ He frowned. ‘Is there enough to keep couples in town?’

  ‘Not in town, but there’s enough around us. There’s a new estate about twenty kilometres east. Some guy got development approval.’

  ‘A housing estate?’ Josh looked over the rooftops of Kookaburra’s and the other businesses on the walkway. The hillside rose behind like a giant protector. It was layered in snow right now, but the grey of the boulders and the bark of the gum trees prodded the white scenery. The paddocks beyond that were farm land but there were large pockets belonging to the government. Pretty areas of land, perfect for a small development.

  ‘Twenty houses being built,’ Ted said. ‘That’s for starters. Another thirty planned for the next five years.’

  Josh whistled.

  ‘At least they’re not right on top of us,’ Ted said. ‘But it means we need to shape up if we want to prosper. Are you selling your mother’s house along with the toy shop?’

  ‘I’m considering lots of things,’ Josh said immediately, reminding himself that Ted had a tendency to grill people in the most unsuspecting way.

  ‘Young Gemma goes over to your mother’s place every couple of weeks. Pulls a few weeds and the like.’

  ‘She does?’ A rush of surprise startled him. ‘Well, I’ll have to thank her.’ There was no need for her to do that. He paid a caretaker to check on the place once a month and keep it clean and the garden tidy.

  ‘Oh, I doubt she’ll want hugs,’ Ted said. ‘Understand your reunion hasn’t gone too well.’

  Josh ignored that as thoughts of hugging Gem took over. When he’d had her in his arms last night he’d almost lost his concentration. As she’d wriggled against his chest, something inside him had sizzled at her soft femininity. Hugging her was not a good idea.

  ‘I’m off to Burra Burra Lane,’ he told Ted. ‘Best be going.’

  ‘Remember your way?’

  Josh laughed. ‘I think I’ll get there before sundown.’

  Ted stood watching as Josh eased into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Josh would get where he was going in one piece but it was going to be strange driving down All Seasons Road after so long, and he wasn’t sure how his memory cells might take it.

  He pulled out of town, not looking at the toy shop.

  ‘Here he is.’

  Ethan’s smile was as wide as the Maclaughlin River that ran at the back of his Burra Burra Lane property. ‘My god, Josh, where the hell have you been?’ He gripped Josh’s hand in his and slapped him on the shoulder with the other.

  ‘Ethan,’ Josh said, blinking and trying to keep his smile in place. He was surprised by the strength of his emotion.

  ‘Let him go!’ Sammy tugged her husband’s arm, smiling with warmth and a brightness that had Josh firming his mouth. ‘Oh, Josh.’ She threw her arms around him and hugged him with all her might. ‘We missed you so much,’ she whispered. ‘Where have you been?’

  There was nothing to make a man feel more like a stray dog than a welcome like this one, with no remonstrations on how he might have hurt them by not getting in touch. Their questioning was brief and there was no hint that either of them expected an answer. But he could have said it: sailing. I’ve been sailing the world. He wasn’t sure why he was so keen to keep this information to himself.

  ‘Let me look at you!’ Sammy released him and stepped back.

  Ethan hooked an arm over her shoulder. ‘We couldn’t believe it when Edie told us you were in town.’

  ‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to pop over earlier.’

  ‘You’re here now.’

  ‘And if you hadn’t arrived by supper time, I’d have packed the kids into the car and come to find you,’ Sammy said.

  Josh smiled at her, then stepped back, unused to being caught in any kind of family fuss. He looked around the homestead, not sure what to say next or where to put his focus. Ethan had aged, he must be about fifty now, but was still the strongest-looking man Josh had ever seen. Six-foot-five, or thereabouts, hair still blonde, and sun-streaked enough to cover any grey.

  Sammy—well, she was still the most gorgeous woman in the world.

  ‘The kids are down at the stables,’ Ethan said, obviously thinking Josh had been looking for them.

  ‘Three of them, eh?’ Josh said with a smile. He caught Sammy’s eye and raised a questioning eyebrow at the look on her face. She’d been studying him intently but whatever turn her assessment was taking, she looked more than a little perturbed by what she’d found.

  Ethan took his arm from around her shoulders and rubbed his hands together, turning brisk and businesslike. ‘Well.’ He looked nervous about something. Perhaps Josh was going to get another ticking off. ‘Come on in.’ He waved a hand at the front door and they trooped inside.

  It had changed so much. They’d breathed life into the place. Fully renovated but still with a ring of old and loved about it.

  ‘It’s lovely, Sammy.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sammy said. She turned to her husband. ‘Ethan?’

  ‘I know. I guess this is it.’

  ‘What?’ Josh asked.

  Ethan went to a writing bureau in the hallway and opened a drawer. Sammy watched, a cautious smile on her face. Ethan pushed something at the back of the drawer and the base sprung up.

  Josh stepped closer. ‘Did you make the bureau?’

  ‘Yes. And you made this. Remember?’ Ethan pulled out a key ring with a wooden tag attached: a burl shaped into a miniature walking stick.

  Josh recognised it immediately. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Remember how you made this for Grandy?’

  ‘Of course. It was the first thing I carved.’

  Ethan smiled slowly and the warmth of it spread to his eyes. ‘Well, he wanted you to have it.’

  Josh took the key ring and smoothed the wood with the pads of his fingertips. ‘How come the keys are still on it?’ He looked up at Ethan as Sammy stepped closer to her husband and tucked her arm in the crook of his.

  ‘Piralilla,’ Ethan said. ‘It’s yours.’

  Piralilla Farmhouse, Main Street. Grandy’s place. About a five-minute walk out of town, southern end, the entrance almost hidden from the road with gum trees, crab-apples and rambling purple-pink wisteria in the hedgerow. ‘I don’t understand.’ Josh had driven past the property on his journey here but hadn’t stopped; hadn’t even considered who might live there now.

  ‘There’s some explaining to do,’ Ethan said. ‘But I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers.’

  ‘You’re saying he left me the farmhouse?’

  ‘Grandy gave me executive care and the terms in his will stated the house was to go to you, but only when you returned to town. You weren’t to be told of the inheritance until that time.’

  ‘But I hadn’t left town when Grandy died. How did he know there’d be a point where I’d need to return?’

  Ethan shook his head. ‘Don’t know for sure, but it wasn’t a secret that you wanted to leave. Everybod
y knew.’

  ‘We think he simply must have been incredibly fond of you, Josh.’

  ‘I loved him,’ Josh told Sammy, still trying to figure out what had happened here. ‘Everybody did.’

  ‘The funny thing is,’ Sammy said, ‘the will was dated a few years before Grandy died and there was another stipulation that we weren’t to tell your mother, should she be alive when Grandy passed. So we couldn’t tell Pat, I suppose in case she told you—which would be the natural, and possibly right, thing to do, but for some reason we don’t understand, Grandy was firm about the stipulation.’

  Ethan indicated the keys in Josh’s hand. ‘You were to be told by me or Sammy that the farmhouse and the immediate five acres around it is yours. I’m to give you the paperwork now and get in touch with the lawyers to inform them that the provisions of the will have been met.’

  ‘But I’m not staying.’ What the hell was he to do now? He couldn’t sell Grandy’s place. Wouldn’t even contemplate it. Could he rent it to someone? Give it to the town the way Ethan and Sammy had given a free lease on the old vet surgery? He shook his head but nothing fell into place. ‘Did he feel sorry for me or something?’

  Sammy gave a light shrug. ‘I doubt it. You never allowed anyone to feel sorry for you.’

  Josh frowned, and in his head he saw himself walking down Main Street, on his way to one of the three jobs he’d held down; planning his getaway. ‘Who’s been living in it?’ he asked.

  ‘No-one.’

  Josh rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand. ‘Jesus.’ He looked at Sammy. ‘Sorry. Bit of a shock. Look, can we keep this quiet? I mean, until I get my head around it.’

  ‘It’s been a secret for many years, Josh. I doubt another week is going to make a difference.’ Ethan put a hand on Josh’s shoulder.

  ‘You mean even Grandy’s children don’t know? Junior?’ Junior had run Morelly’s Hardware after Grandy, until apparently he too had retired and Nick Barton had bought the store. ‘Sorry,’ Josh apologised for his lapse. ‘Of course Grandy would tell you,’ he said to Ethan, ‘you’re his son too.’

  ‘Neither of Grandy’s two other sons or his daughters know about this. They think he gave me the farmhouse.’

  ‘You should all have a share in it.’

  Ethan shook his head, an apology in his smile. ‘Not the way Grandy wanted it. His children and grandchildren got a share of his money. And Grandy gave me my inheritance before I married Sammy.’

  Josh remembered like it was yesterday. He’d been seventeen. The truth about Ethan’s parentage had surfaced after years of nobody knowing, not even Ethan. That must have been a whopper of a shock for him. Grandy had given Ethan about two hundred acres that adjoined the Burra Burra Lane homestead.

  ‘Come on,’ Ethan said, ‘let’s get a drink.’

  ‘I need something stronger than tea,’ Josh said as he allowed Ethan to lead him into the kitchen.

  ‘Brandy,’ Sammy said, heading for the pantry. ‘I always keep some for emergencies.’ She looked back at Josh. ‘Couldn’t get it down for me, could you?’

  Josh walked over to the large pantry and took hold of the full bottle of brandy on the top shelf. ‘Doesn’t look like you’ve had too many emergencies,’ he said, handing Sammy the bottle.

  She gave him that slightly mesmerised, quizzical look again. ‘This is the first.’ She cracked the seal and twisted the cap off. ‘But I’m expecting more.’

  Four

  Gem couldn’t get hold of her father. She’d left messages and sent him texts but hadn’t heard back yet. He was probably out on the town, whooping it up with his latest girlfriend.

  There was a lot she could do to help herself. She’d get some painting and decorating jobs from the people moving into the new housing estate. She’d sell some of her artwork. It wouldn’t bring in enough, though—she had to find a means to get another fifty thousand, if it took her all day and all night. All she’d taken from her father, or rather, from her future inheritance, was enough for the start-up costs to run the shop. Since then, she’d managed on her own. Not a huge income for herself, after rents for the shop and the flat above, but she wasn’t perturbed by lack of luxuries for herself. It took years to get goodwill and a steady flow of customers, regular or passing through. And Gem knew she could make it work, if Josh’s trustees would only listen to her proposals for development. If her father would get off her back and allow her free rein to make business decisions on her own. Sometimes, she regretted asking him for the start-up money, but because that guy she’d nearly given her heart to three years ago had stolen her seven thousand dollars, she’d had no choice. The shop had been up for lease, and Gem had wanted it. What else would she have done for employment on her return to Swallow’s Fall?

  She picked up her mobile from the shop counter. Perhaps the bank would come up with the additional money she needed, if she begged. If she offered to paint and decorate their entire office. All their offices. All cities. Worldwide.

  Breathing deeply, she punched in the number of the mortgage broker she used.

  ‘They’d need additional security, Miss Munroe,’ he told her after Gem had explained her situation.

  ‘The capital I’m already putting in isn’t enough to secure the extra fifty thousand?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Is there some other collateral you could use?’

  ‘How about if I were to get an assurance of security for the extra loan amount?’

  Gem glanced up from the shop counter as a woman in the purple coat carrying a young boy came into the shop. She smiled and waved an I won’t be a moment finger. The woman didn’t respond. She went over to the shelving unit, pointing at the choices in front of them.

  ‘Well,’ her broker continued, ‘—the person would have to undergo a credit check and all the usual formalities involved.’

  And wouldn’t her father love that? This was her Catch-22—only her father could either give her the fifty thousand or stand guarantor.

  ‘Thank you. I’ll get back to you.’

  Gem checked that her customers weren’t looking lost, then pulled the bright orange folder she’d labelled Gem’s Toy Emporium—the name she’d give the shop once she owned it—across the counter towards her and flicked through the paperwork, mentally tallying her finances. Her situation wasn’t good. It didn’t mean things couldn’t be changed—it was only Tuesday and Josh was in town for the week—but she had to at least put a plan into action before he left. He’d want to know what her finances were and how and when she was ready to go ahead with the purchase. She was going to have to play things differently. But first she needed to understand how flexible he’d be—how much he’d be willing to let the shop go for, and whether or not she had a fighting chance of bringing the sale price down by fifty thousand.

  Not that she’d ask. He deserved the going price for the Cuddly Bear. Would he let her have more time? Probably; he wasn’t all bad. They no longer had a hold on each other the way they’d had when he’d been seventeen and she’d been twelve, but she recognised her Josh. Somewhere inside him—he was the same handsome man with the same beautiful soul. Damn it.

  The woman came up to the counter and Gem put her folder to one side. She wrapped the small red and charcoal stuffed parrot—the woman had chosen a toy that had been in the knock-down-sale barrel—in tissue paper, bagged it, rang up the amount and gave the woman her change, smiling instead of speaking, because the fullness of emotion in her throat was almost choking her.

  Josh Rutherford was still the love of her life. She only had to last four days, then he’d be gone and she could get over him.

  Josh came out of the grocer’s and pulled at the collar of his coat. Jesus H, it was cold enough to freeze the nuts off a brass baboon. His mobile charger had died. Fortunately the Tillman twins sold mod-cons and he’d been able to replace it, along with buying a packet of mints and having a chinwag with the twins, who seemed pleased to see him back.

  He wanted to get a better idea o
f house prices and the internet connection here wasn’t fast or even always available. It didn’t feel right, looking up a value for Piralilla Farmhouse, but until he knew what he was going to do with the place, it was best to get all options covered. What the hell had Grandy been thinking? Had his mother known what Grandy planned? If so, she hadn’t said anything. She’d kept Josh up to date with news of the town until her death just over a year after he’d left, which he’d damned well missed because he’d been halfway across the North Atlantic. He’d only received her letters once he and the crew he’d hooked up with had moored in Florida.

  ‘Ho! Josh!’

  Josh looked across the street to where Ted stood next to his plastic horse, beckoning him.

  He stepped down to the street, remembering to look before he crossed. In his day, they’d been lucky to see three non-resident vehicles passing through. These days there was real traffic around.

  ‘I’ve a favour to ask,’ Ted said as he joined him.

  ‘Okay.’ He wasn’t going to accept whatever it was until he’d heard it, but could at least give the impression that he’d help out with whatever favour Ted needed.

  ‘Need you to join the speed-dating group Saturday night.’

  He took a step backwards. ‘Not my scene, Ted.’

  ‘Not as a real competitor, you horse’s head. We need you undercover.’

  ‘Under the cover of what?’ And since when had speed-dating participants been referred to as competitors? Was there a prize for the first two who arranged a date?

  ‘We need you to pretend!’ Ted said, enunciating the last word as though he suspected Josh had suddenly lost his use of the English language. ‘Keep an eye on things. Listen out to what’s being said around you.’

  ‘Why?’

  Ted inhaled and pulled his shoulders back. ‘We have reason to believe we’re going to be infiltrated.’

  ‘By whom?’ Josh’s smile formed and before he had a chance to correct it, it turned into an outright grin, bordering on a laugh, as a vision of the army, navy, air force and the police came to mind, raiding Kookaburra’s at sundown, helicopters whirring overhead and disturbing the peace of Swallow’s Fall.