by Eva Scott
Ed had no doubt they’d concocted some horrible mission for him, as if they wanted to punish him for going off to start his own business in the first place. One that, they liked to remind him, had failed. Now back with his tail between his legs, he had to take whatever they dished out.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. His GoldfieldsGirl.
He had a smile on his face before he pulled his mobile phone out to look at it. Sure enough, she’d messaged him back.
GoldfieldsGirl TUE @ 8:08 AM
No sympathy. I’m dealing with a bunch of geriatric delinquents who actively hate on my coffee. Let’s swap.
He grinned and slid his phone back in his pocket, thinking of witty responses as the tram swayed along the street. Would GoldfieldsGirl approve of the real him, the one on the tram heading to work at his family business, one with a corporate culture he loathed? He’d led her to believe he was a nice guy. Damn it, he was a nice guy, at least he had been before he landed in this mess.
The idea that GoldfieldsGirl was out there somewhere in the Victorian countryside thinking warmly of him made him want to do better, to get back to who he’d been before he sold his soul to his siblings.
The tram slid into his stop and he stepped out into the misty rain, making his way to his favourite coffee shop. No way could he face his adversarial brother and sister without the aid of caffeine.
‘Yo, Ed. How you doin’?’ Maureen, the proprietor and barista extraordinaire, greeted him. ‘Fine weather for ducks. The usual?’
‘Got a meeting with family this morning so make it an extra shot.’ A shiver ran down his spine, and it wasn’t just from the weather.
‘Well, you know you can always come and work with me if you like. Give up all that corporate crap. Who needs it anyway?’ Maureen steamed the milk, the machine hissing to life.
‘You’d trust me back there?’
‘I know your history. I know you’d be pretty good. Your years of pulling coffee in London means you’re no slouch.’ She poured the milk on top of the espresso shots. ‘Probably not as good as me but we could skill you up in no time.’ She snapped the lid on the takeaway cup and handed it to him with a wink.
‘Nice to know I’ve got a backup plan if I need one.’
‘I’ve met your sister. You need one.’
‘Cheers.’ Ed raised his cup in salute. ‘Thanks for having my back.’
‘Anytime,’ Maureen called after him before turning to the next customer.
Ed quickstepped across the street, dodging traffic, to arrive at the grand lobby of the offices of Carpenter’s Warehouse. He took a moment, stabilising himself before stepping in through the glass doors and making his way to the lifts.
Closing his eyes on the ride up to the twenty-first floor, he promised himself that this time next year he would not be here, that he would be back amongst nature doing the thing that he loved. He just didn’t know how he was going to pull that off yet.
‘Hey, Ed.’
‘Good to see you, Ed.’
Staff members called out greetings to him as he entered the busy open-plan office. He waved back, continuing on to his own desk. They liked him because he wasn’t scary like Oliver and Rosie, because he’d talk footy with them and brought in cream biscuits for the lunch room. Like GoldfieldsGirl, they believed him to be the nice guy, and compared to his siblings, he was.
He placed his bag and coffee on his desk before hanging up his damp coat and unwinding his black and yellow striped Tigers scarf.
‘The boss is looking for you.’ Jeremy, the operations manager, nodded in the direction of the boardroom. Middle-aged with a slightly rumpled appearance, he had an affable air and reminded Ed of a sidekick from an American sitcom. Any sitcom.
Ed suspected Jeremy shared his office space under sufferance, having been forced by Rosie to make room. It must feel like a demotion, yet Jeremy never gave Ed any indication that he held it against him. He’d simply had his desk moved over and carried on as if having the youngest Carpenter take over his office was an everyday event.
Ed checked his watch. The meeting had been called for nine and it was barely eight thirty. ‘Has she been waiting long?’
‘Let’s say she’s checked in three times and leave it at that.’
Ed sighed and closed his eyes. His first instinct was to defend himself and point out he was early for their meeting. What would be the purpose? Rosie had a way of making everyone feel as if they were somehow letting her down and causing her physical pain by doing so.
‘I know how you feel, mate,’ said Jeremy as if reading his mind. ‘Nothing for it but to get in there and take your punishment.’
‘Am I in trouble?’ Ed snapped into focus, picking up his coffee and a notebook.
‘Wouldn’t know but every meeting with your sister feels like a punishment for sins yet to be committed.’
Ed let out a bark of laughter. ‘You’ve got that right.’ While Rosie might be a sharp CEO with some serious moneymaking capabilities, her people skills left a lot to be desired. ‘Might as well get it over and done with.’
The soundproofed boardroom provided an oasis of peace from the frantic energy of the rest of the office. Floor to ceiling windows gave a view over Melbourne’s Docklands. Padded leather and chrome chairs invited you to sit at the long oak table, whose golden tones were accentuated by cleverly placed lighting that gave the room a cosy yet luxurious feel.
As the door closed behind him, Ed imagined himself sealed off from all help. No one would hear him scream.
‘Glad you decided to join us.’ Rosie stood surveying the bustling city below as the rain ran in rivulets down the windowpane.
Closer to forty than thirty, she had taken to expensive treatments to preserve her youth, resulting in a disconcerting blank expression punctuated by two blazing black eyes that could pierce you like a bolt from a crossbow.
‘I didn’t realise you’d moved the meeting up,’ he said calmly as he took a seat at the table several chairs away from where Oliver sat.
While Rosie had the exterior of a cold, alabaster statue, Oliver preferred an oilier look. His dark hair, already showing signs of thinning, was slicked back with some substance that reflected the light. Expensively dressed, he looked like a manicured extra from a scene in Wall Street which, Ed happened to know, was one of his all-time favourite movies.
‘As a senior member of Carpenter’s, we expect you to be available earlier than our regular staff,’ said Oliver, offering Ed the kind of smile a snake might offer its prey before devouring it whole. He wore red suspenders over his blue business shirt and Ed longed to snap them in a childish fit of rebellion.
‘I pull my weight on this management team.’ He could not help but be defensive where these two were concerned. They managed to push his buttons every single time.
Oliver’s smile shifted to one of condescension and Ed got the impression he was being patted on the head like a pet dog.
‘Whatever,’ said Rosie, dismissing the brothers’ power tussle. As the eldest and their father’s favourite, she ran the show. She sat down at the head of the table like a queen about to hold court. ‘We’ve asked you in today to talk about the community reaction to the new warehouse.’
On firmer ground, Ed flipped his notebook open. ‘I’ve been monitoring social media sites and newsfeeds for the Goldfields area. There’s been a small amount of kickback, which is to be expected. Nothing that won’t be overcome once the store opens.’
Rosie nodded her head and stared out the window, as though bored.
Oliver leaned in. ‘Are you sure there’s no possibility of bad press? We don’t want a repeat of what happened at the Gippsland location.’
Generally agreed to have been a disaster, the Gippsland store had been dogged by protest. Local retailers had banded together to rail against what they’d described as retail monopolies strangling small holders. They’d even supplied a noose in an alarming effort to drive their point home.
The news services had
had a field day, presenting Rosie as a cold and evil mogul determined to steal bread from the mouths of local families. The fact Carpenter’s would be employing those very same families had been completely lost in translation.
While the fuss had died down and the store had been built, Rosie still smarted from her portrayal in the press. Although she did nothing to help herself with her frosty demeanour.
Ed couldn’t hold his hand on his heart and say the same thing wouldn’t happen again in the Goldfields. The new store would serve a large rural catchment area, offering hardware and gardening goods to people who would otherwise have to travel some distance for their tool needs. While he preferred the homeliness and knowledge of small family businesses himself, he saw the irony of Carpenter’s along with its benefits.
He tapped his pen on the pad, a thought forming in his mind. Maybe there was an opportunity to get out from under his siblings’ scrutiny for a little while. They all knew the job they’d given him was token only—something to appease his mother and prevent him from selling his family shares to a third party. The problem was, he had never been more miserable in his life.
‘You know, there may be one place that might cause us a problem.’
That got Rosie’s attention. ‘Where?’
‘There’s a little hardware store in a small town called Wongilly. As far as I know, it’s been owned by the same family since the goldrush days. It’s limping along now but it’s a landmark and I’m not sure people will take kindly to its closing.’
‘Since the goldrush?’ Oliver sat back, steepling his fingers and putting on his thoughtful face. Ed swore he could hear the gears turning in his mind. ‘Do you think we could buy the business out before it goes broke? Head off some bad press, and the owner would have nothing to complain about if they got a fat cheque.’
‘How small is small?’ Rosie turned her laser eyes on Ed as if x-raying him for the truth.
‘My understanding is that it is very small. Revenue has taken a hit with the pandemic and the shift to online retail but it’s hanging in there.’
Privately, he wanted Cappelli’s Hardware to endure, to succeed, to defy Carpenter’s Warehouse and thrive. The odds, however, were not good.
‘Mmm …’ Rosie closed her eyes as if savouring the idea of closing down yet another small business, as if she absorbed their life force every time she did it. ‘And you think you can persuade them to sell to us?’
‘I think so.’ He crossed his fingers under the table, grateful she couldn’t see his face. There was no love lost between the Carpenter kids, and Ed had long been appalled at Oliver and Rosie’s approach to doing business. He wondered if his father would have approved. Rosie seemed to believe so.
Her eyes snapped open and she began to speak at machine-gun speed. ‘Right, you’ll go out to this town in the middle of Podunk Nowhere and you’ll assess whether or not they’re going to make trouble. If the answer is no, then walk away and things will take care of themselves. If the answer is yes, then we’ll offer them a standard buyout package. Got it?’
Ed nodded, elation bubbling in his chest. While he wanted to get out from under Rosie and Oliver’s thumbs, he also wanted an excuse to meet GoldfieldsGirl face-to-face. This trip would give him that opportunity. She lived out that way, near a field of wildflowers apparently. She’d told him how, every year, she counted the new blooms every morning as spring crept in. Soon the field would be full of colour. Something like that would be hard to miss.
Rosie stood to leave, indicating the meeting had finished. Oliver pointed his pen in Ed’s direction. ‘I expect you to keep me briefed. We’ve got council wanting a smooth process. No one wants a negative impact on the next local election. The build is almost finished and the opening date is set. Don’t let us down.’
The two of them left him sitting alone, the door making a swishing sound as it closed behind them.
He watched the rain, letting his thoughts swirl and settle. It was in his best interests to promote Carpenter’s Warehouse, yet the company had morphed into something he didn’t recognise anymore, its ethos becoming more predatorial with every passing year.
Maybe that strategy had helped them survive the tumultuous times—the change of policy saving them from closing their doors when so many other businesses had been forced into receivership during the pandemic. Their success didn’t make Ed feel any more comfortable about the method.
Carpenter’s Warehouse may have been a different company a year or two ago but Ed had been a very different man too. He wasn’t sure that the Ed Before would approve of the Ed After. The world had changed, and it had changed him with it.
He could design a garden, landscape a property, run his own company and had the respect of his peers yet here he was, an independent man dependent on his family.
A man who hadn’t been able to hold on to his business during the pandemic. He’d managed to fail not only himself but his team and his clients. He should have done better.
A man who had returned to his family with his tail between his legs, taking a job so he could build up the funds to start again. Bending his own principles to try and regain his life.
A man who lived in his mother’s guesthouse. Something his brother and sister never let him forget.
Ed didn’t know how he was going to walk the tightrope between what he believed in and what he had to do, but he was willing to try. He had to get back to the man he used to be. Even if that meant bending a few rules.
GardenerGuy94 TUE @ 3:35 PM
I survived with all my limbs intact. They’re sending me on a business trip so I’ll be gone for a few days. They think they’re punishing me but I’m going free range! How was your day?
GardenerGuy94 TUE @ 3:36 PM
PS. Ripley says hi.
CHAPTER TWO
‘Hey!’
Annalisa started at the sound of a female voice, nearly dropping her phone. The old guys had gone home hours ago, leaving her with dust motes for company.
‘Who are you drooling over?’ Her best friend, Melinda Gray, pushed her way into the store bringing a blast of cool spring air with her.
‘It’s nice and warm in here,’ she said as she unwrapped her scarf. ‘I think it’s going to be a cold night.’ She rubbed her hands together as she approached the counter.
Annalisa quickly shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and stepped around the counter to give her friend a hug.
‘How are you? How are Garry and the kids?’
‘Fine, they’re all fine.’ Mel patted her on the back before stepping away. ‘Now tell me who you were mooning over when I walked in.’
‘I was not mooning. This is the twenty-first century; no one moons anymore.’
‘So, I’m not cool. Don’t change the subject.’ Mel tucked her blonde bob behind her ears and dumped her scarf and oversized handbag on the counter.
Annalisa hesitated. The old guys might have a dig at her about having a virtual boyfriend but their teasing amounted to nothing more than a wild stab in the dark. They didn’t know about GardenerGuy94. No one did.
If she told Mel about GardenerGuy94 then their relationship would become real, something to be taken apart and examined under the harsh but well-meaning scrutiny of her friends. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
‘I know you’re hiding something, or should I say someone, Annalisa Cappelli. I’ve known you since kindergarten. You cannot keep anything from me so don’t even try.’ Mel plucked a Malteser from the bowl Annalisa had on the counter and crunched it between her perfect white teeth as if illustrating her forceful capabilities. ‘And you always rub that locket when you get nervous.’
Annalisa sighed and let go of her locket. ‘Do you talk to your students like this?’
‘You bet. How else can I terrify them into submission?’
‘I’ve finished Luna’s doll house. Want to see?’ A not-so-subtle change of subject, meanwhile Annalisa’s fingers itched to type a return message to GardenerGuy94.<
br />
‘That’s what I came for,’ said Mel, rubbing her hands together.
Annalisa grinned. ‘Wait here.’
She ducked down behind the counter and lifted up her creation: a three-storey masterpiece complete with tiny furniture for each room. ‘Ta da.’
‘Oh my god.’ Mel covered her mouth with her hands in what Annalisa hoped was delight.
‘Is it okay?’
Last night, as she’d put the finishing touches on the doll house, she’d been so certain. In the cold light of day, she didn’t feel as sure. It looked so pink.
‘It’s more than okay, Annalisa. It’s perfect.’ Mel sighed. ‘Luna is going to love it.’
‘I didn’t paint the furniture. I thought it might be fun for you or Garry to help her with that.’
‘What a great idea! I cannot thank you enough for making this for my baby girl.’ Mel touched the house gently as if it were made of tissue paper instead of plywood. ‘I always wanted a house like this when I was a kid.’
‘I can make you one if you like. Maybe for your thirtieth?’
‘Let me put my order in then. I’d like a split level with a sunken lounge and a swimming pool please.’
Annalisa laughed. ‘I’m on it, Malibu Barbie. Another Malteser?’ She popped one in her mouth before passing the confection over.
‘This is pretty.’ Mel inspected the little blue bowl containing the Maltesers. It was decorated with delicate red flowers that glinted in the light. ‘You made this?’
She nodded. ‘In 2015, during my ceramic period.’
‘You are so creative, and I have no idea what you are doing here in this dump of a town.’ Mel put the bowl down and fixed Annalisa with her sharp green-eyed stare.
‘I am carrying on my family legacy.’ Annalisa pulled herself up to her full height. This was not the first time she’d had this conversation with Mel.
‘Right, not hiding at all.’ Mel inspected the rooms in the doll house. ‘Aw, you’ve even made little curtains.’