‘Poor Bill.’ Leila meant it. He’d always been so lovely to her. When he’d discovered how much she liked Vegemite he’d popped into Tesco to get some so she could have it on her toast for breakfast. He’d smiled and smoothed his thinning hair and had looked so pleased when she’d clapped her hands in response.
And he’d gone to find an extra oil heater for Kate and Leila’s room. ‘Our summer’s probably like your winter,’ he’d said, wheeling it into position. She and Kate had been perfectly cosy in the room but they smiled gratefully and his care had made them both feel even more welcome.
‘I’ll be as quick and quiet as I can,’ she promised.
Leila was nearly home when her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Gr8 news. Booked flight to Thailand. Keeping it a surprise from them till I get there. Not long till i c my girl.
Her feet came to an abrupt halt and she stared at the screen. The phone felt as heavy as a brick.
She’d often thought about what she’d done when she’d interfered with Lucas’s emails. She’d pondered the virtue of her actions in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, terrified Lucas would find out what she’d done and turn on her.
But she’d done it in his best interests, hadn’t she? If she really wanted the outcome to be in her favour she’d have let him read it, let him see his single-minded determination to pursue work over a relationship was wasted. Let him see her, waiting for him.
That night at the office, she hadn’t had long enough to weigh it all up thoughtfully before acting. She’d had to make a choice on the spot and, rightly or wrongly, she’d chosen to spare him the pain. Her late-night dissections of her action inevitably arrived at the conclusion that she’d overstepped the mark. Then she was thrown into endless wondering if she should confess before he found out.
Surely, if she was going to tell him the truth, now was the perfect moment.
She hit reply. She began to type. Then hit the backspace button over and over again. Then hit cancel and shoved the phone back in her bag with a groan. A sudden gusty breeze shot through her jacket and made her wrap her arms around herself. There was really too much else going on right now for her to be able to give her reply the consideration it deserved.
By the time she got back to the house, her worries had turned more towards Bill. She took a deep breath and turned the key in the front door, calling out his name loudly as she entered.
There was only silence in return. No television. No answering cheery call as usual. She wasn’t sure if he was out or was simply hiding behind the closed door of his bedroom. The sight of his tartan cap sitting on the hook near the umbrella stand made her heart lurch. The poor bugger.
She moved quietly down the hall, feeling like an intruder. She’d just have a shower, change her clothes, print out what she needed and do a bit of work online and then she could leave Bill alone to his grieving.
Three hours later, everything was ready. She’d edited the press releases for Kate and had typed up all the paperwork for the investment deal, using a contract template from the investor website on which she’d found Quentin.
It all looked in good order to her. She’d edited enough contracts, tenders and agreements to know what they should look like. Of course, she’d still have a solicitor look at it. And once again, the tight timeframe demanded she make a quick decision. Fortunately, Clive Evans, the leasing agent, was an occasional solicitor who’d agreed to look at it for a good price so she uploaded it to her email message and sent it off.
Then she chewed a nail to shorten it, rather than finding a pair of scissors, and sent the contract to the printer to get a clean copy.
There was just that one point in the paperwork that would send Kate into a meltdown.
Quentin had the investment money and was all ready to go—on one condition. He accurately pinpointed one of their weakest links, just as Leila had in her risk assessment: the fact they were unknown in England and brought no loyal customers or even word-of-mouth lead-in.
‘You have a great business,’ he’d said. ‘But if you’re to succeed in the fiercely competitive London scene then you have to saturate the market, fast. You need citywide exposure. I want to see you on bus shelters, hear you in radio ads, and see you in magazines. You need to convince everyone that you’ve always been here and your supremacy is unchallengeable.
‘You need to trust me, Leila. This is what I do for a living. It’s in my interests to make sure this venture is a success. I need to work just as hard as you. Failure is not an option.’
Leila chewed another nail. Kate would be more than a little reluctant. But the grand opening was happening in two days. She really had no choice. It was sink or swim. Kate wanted to swim and Quentin was handing out flotation devices. They’d be crazy to turn him down. Her job was to hold Kate’s hand until she could cross the deep waters. That’s why Kate had hired her. For now, she’d just make that decision for her. Kate would thank her in the end.
She grinned then, suddenly filled with visions of the incredible success of The Tea Chest and the pivotal role she’d played in making it happen. Her career had taken the most wonderful, surprising, challenging and ultimately rewarding turn. Strahan Engineering was fast becoming a horrible dream she’d never have to think about again. Her mother would be proud. Lucas would be impressed. Perhaps Kate might even extend her role and this would be a whole new beginning for her.
Twenty years earlier
The night of Simone’s fortieth-birthday dinner loomed heavy with clouds and rain that made all the guests wet and puffed when they arrived at the new Eagle Street Pier restaurant. Judy shook off her umbrella at the door and slid it into the stand, already bulging with others dripping water on the floor.
Simone was in place at the head of the long table, surrounded by friends, and looking fantastic in a kohl-coloured chiffon wrap blouse that showed off her trim figure. The ruched satin trousers did the same. Her hair was parted on the side and pulled back loosely behind her ears, the picture of casual elegance.
Judy ran her hand down her own black stirrup pants, brushing off raindrops and feeling much more than just two years older than her stepsister.
Simone’s shriek of laughter cut through the music, chatter, kitchen noise and clinking glassware and signalled she’d already had at least two Long Island iced teas. She suddenly looked towards the door at Judy and Graham and waved excitedly, beckoning them to the table.
They sat a few seats down from Simone. Graham held out his hand to the friends already there, introducing himself and his wife, always so much more at ease with strangers than Judy. She didn’t recognise any of these people, or even their names, come to think of it, and marvelled at how quickly Simone’s friends seemed to come and go from her life. They were all young and fresh-faced, some singles, some couples, none who looked like they had children, some even wearing deliberately ripped jeans with their high heels, something Judy considered showed an appalling lack of taste in a fine restaurant such as this. She sat rigid, wondering if she and Graham were there because Simone had genuine affection for them or because Judy was a financial partner in Simone’s latest business.
Joining in Simone’s business ventures had been an easy thing to do in that time following the death of baby Erin and the dark, endless days that followed. Having inherited from both her mother and stepfather, Judy had cash to play with, time to fill, and bookkeeping skills to share. Simone needed start-up finance for each enterprise and Judy had to admit she had a flair for picking good opportunities. In the past seven years, Simone had moved on from lollies to handbags and then to coffee. She had a skill for picking niche growth opportunities, envisioning their future but never picking a ‘star business’ that followed a trend for a brief period and then burned out. Simone wasn’t into building businesses around fads; she picked unique opportunities to supply new takes on classic favourites. And so far, they’d made good returns on each one.
But Simone seemed to get bored. She changed her business
sights as many times as she seemed to change the home she was renting and the company she kept, something Judy found irritating, but for reasons she couldn’t quite identify. After all, there’d been no major financial issues. So what did it matter?
Judy scanned the restaurant’s menu. The sand crab lasagne sounded too good to ignore. The waiter flicked open her white starched napkin and laid it across her lap.
Beside her, Graham laughed heartily with the woman next to him over something she’d said, the lines around his eyes just that bit deeper now he’d passed forty-five. She loved those lines, envied them, actually. Envied that he’d managed to keep them after the loss of their daughter, whereas she’d simply developed new ones—long ones that ran down from the corners of her mouth where her face had been set with sadness and anger for so long. She resisted the urge now to reach out her finger and trace Graham’s beautiful smile lines. Some days, his smile had been all there was to brighten her day and calm her racing mind, pushing away the endless questions and guilt.
Had she done something wrong? Was it her fault? Why would God send a child and then take her away before she’d even been in the world?
She took a deep breath now and sat up straighter, focusing her eyes on the people around her, and tried to pick up a thread of conversation to join.
At least she had her marriage to hold on to, and her successful business investments with Simone. Fair Trade was a new concept that was gaining momentum and Simone had combined this with the public’s love of chocolate to import a select range of fine products from Guatemala. The business was booming. And it wasn’t a totally unpleasant consequence to have quite a few samples in the house either.
Just then, a man in a suit jacket—Marco, if memory served—tapped his knife to his wine glass and held it high.
‘To Simone,’ he said, causing Simone to blush noticeably.
‘To Simone,’ everyone agreed. And Judy caught Simone’s eye and gave her a warm smile. Simone was always so grounded at the beginning of a new business venture. Judy enjoyed seeing her thrive and each time she hoped it would last a little bit longer than the last.
15
Neil Diamond’s music was playing in the café when Leila arrived with the paperwork. Quentin was singing along while reading the newspaper, dressed in jeans and a pale pink T-shirt.
‘Neil Diamond’s a bit daggy, isn’t he?’ she said, standing at his table.
‘Hey there,’ he said, pulling out a chair for her. ‘Neil’s timeless.’
‘He will be soon. He’s practically dead.’
Quentin flinched and covered his heart with his hand. ‘Ouch.’
She took her seat and he closed his newspaper, the muscles in his forearms flexing in the process and she had to look away. She shouldn’t be noticing anyone’s forearms other than Lucas’s.
Then again, why shouldn’t she? Her mother always said a woman couldn’t have a good job and a good man at the same time so you had to pick one and be happy with that. She had a good job now. By her mother’s reasoning, men were off the table. Lucas certainly was and wasn’t showing any signs of changing. Yet here was Quentin.
She looked back and this time gave him a long, appreciative stare.
He caught her glance and returned it with an outright flirty smile. She failed to suppress an embarrassed snort.
‘Did you just snort?’ he said.
‘No.’
‘Yes you did.’
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Yes you did.’
‘Should we look at the paperwork?’ she said.
He leaned back, appraising her. ‘Yes we should. But then we should have dinner. Somewhere nice.’
‘It’s only two o’clock.’
‘Then we’ll have a late lunch. And if we still like each other after that we’ll just keep eating through the night.’
‘Is that appropriate?’
‘Eating? You’re right. That much food is probably irresponsible. Children are starving in third world nations. Moreover, people are hungry on the streets of London. Maybe we should go find them and invite them to join us.’ He stood up as if to go looking in the streets.
She laughed. ‘Not the food—the date.’
He gave her that flirtatious glint again and her insides squirmed. ‘Is it a date?’
‘It sounds like a date.’
‘Perhaps it is. It’s probably not appropriate.’
She deflated.
‘But I think it’s necessary,’ he said.
And she expanded with happiness once more.
Two days to go.
The tile grouting on the wall was almost sponged clean but Elizabeth kept rubbing anyway, just to make sure. She sat back on her haunches, her biceps aching from the repetitive motion. The Tea Chest looked good. Kind of. If you could ignore the unpainted window frames, the ladders, spilled plaster, unhung curtains, empty shelving, and cupboards waiting to be sanded, painted and have their handles attached. Not to mention all the stock to be displayed and all the fine touches.
Okay, on second look it was worse than they’d hoped it would be at this late stage.
All the tradespeople had left. To their credit, they’d all finished on time. It was just the four of them now to finish up. But what had looked like something they might knock over in a day was taking a shockingly long time.
Even so, Kate was proudly walking around the space with her laptop in hand, giving Mark and her sons a guided tour via Skype. Her eyes were lit up with joy to have them see the progress that had been made.
‘It looks amazing,’ she heard Mark say.
‘What’s that?’ one of the boys said.
Kate was standing by a wooden barrel.
‘It’s a wine barrel.’
‘Why?’ That must have been James. He sounded young.
‘Because it’s pretty.’ Kate smiled.
Over on the other side of the shop, Leila was struggling to measure up spots for wall hangings, to get them exactly evenly spaced and level. Considerable cursing was coming from that corner of the room. And Victoria was high on a ladder, taking her blessed time about applying a stencilled gold leaf pattern to parts of the ceiling.
‘You better go and get ready for school,’ Kate said now, wandering towards Elizabeth and hugging the laptop close.
‘Bye,’ the boys sang in unison and Kate blew them kisses and waved frantically at the screen.
‘I’d better go too,’ Mark said.
Kate spun the laptop around again so he could see Elizabeth. She smiled and waved. ‘Bye, Mark. Have a good day.’
‘Bye,’ Leila sang through a pencil wedged sideways between her teeth.
‘See ya,’ Victoria said, spinning around on her ladder.
‘Bye, ladies.’ Mark grinned. ‘You’re doing the most amazing job. It’s going to be sensational.’
Kate spun him back to her for a final goodbye. ‘You’re doing such a great job with the boys. I’m really proud of you guys. We do make great children.’ She paused. ‘As opposed to all those other kids we made that weren’t any good.’
‘It’s the kids we reject that make our kids the best.’
Kate laughed and Elizabeth heard herself release an involuntary sigh in the back of her throat. What an incredible gift to have such a close relationship with your husband.
When Kate had finally signed off, Elizabeth smiled at her. ‘You two are so cute together.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Where did you meet?’
‘At a rally in the city. We were protesting against the logging of old-growth forests.’
‘And did you know straight away that you were meant to be?’
Kate tilted her head to the side to think. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say I knew in those first few minutes of jostling together with placards, but I think by the time we’d finished our Vietnamese noodles later that afternoon I had a pretty good idea he was special.’
‘You’ve gone all rosy and glowy,’ Elizabeth laughed.
�
�What about you? Where did you meet John?’
‘Nothing as exotic as that. I was cleaning his house, actually. It was less than a week after I’d arrived in Australia, on a holiday with my best friend Gail—former best friend after she dumped me for the first guy who shouted her a beer at the pub. I was doing anything to make some cash to get started on my great backpacking adventure. But I never got further than Brisbane because John swept me off my feet.’
‘What did he do?’ Kate said, joining Elizabeth on the floor and drinking from a bottle of water. She looked tired, unsurprisingly. None of them was built to be a labourer and these long hours were pushing them to their limits. They kept themselves going by joking about how svelte they’d look at the end.
‘He offered to show me around Brisbane and he hired bicycles in the city and we rode together through the botanical gardens and along the riverbank. It was really lovely. And then he literally knocked me over. He ran into me by accident and I fell off the bike and injured my knee. He felt so awful and I couldn’t work for a few days so he put me up in his spare bedroom and nursed me and that was it. I never left.’
Leila joined them, sitting down and leaning back on her hands, her legs stretched out in front and her ankles crossed. ‘I met Lucas in army greens,’ she said. ‘He was my team’s paintball captain. It’s what the guys at Strahan do for team bonding. We had fake guns and war paint.’
‘Couldn’t they just oil themselves up and wrestle it out like they do at medieval festivals?’ Victoria said, flopping down to join the circle. She had paint under her nails and proceeded to use the edge of a metal spatula to scrape it out.
‘I thought you and Lucas were just mates?’ Kate said.
‘Hmm. We are, technically. But I guess we’re a bit more than that too,’ Leila said.
Elizabeth slid her eyes to Kate’s face but couldn’t read it. Kate was maintaining a steady gaze.
Leila changed the focus. ‘What about you?’ she asked Victoria. ‘Any men in your life?’
The Tea Chest Page 15