Angel's Share

by Kayte Nunn

  Mattie noticed a pained look on Rose’s normally sunny face.

  ‘Dan’s bringing the Kalkari chardonnay and shiraz in his ute, and we’ve been able to borrow a refrigerated trailer to keep it all cool,’ Rose said. ‘Not that there’s much chance of it getting too warm.’

  ‘It feels like it’s about five degrees out there,’ said Mattie. She had dressed carefully for once, wearing a moss-coloured cashmere sweater that brought out the colour of her eyes, and cream jeans with her favourite boots. She’d also applied a touch of gloss to her lips and her cheeks were pink from the cold. She couldn’t wait to see Charlie again; he’d promised to be there. He had been on her mind ever since their interrupted date nearly a month ago. They’d swapped several messages, but Charlie had been travelling in South Australia and they hadn’t managed to catch up since. It had been a long few weeks for Mattie.

  ‘Once that sun comes out it’ll warm everything up, you’ll see. Looks like it’s going to be a beaut of a day,’ replied Mark.

  Rose drained her cup. ‘Right then, let’s get cracking.’

  As they pulled up at the entrance to the Narrow Track, Mattie could see that there was plenty of activity already underway. Portaloos had been delivered the previous day, trestle tables were in the process of being assembled along the centre of the lane and an assortment of chairs had been stacked at the far end. Mattie retrieved the linen tablecloths from the boot of the van and went over to where Astrid was helping to set up, while Rose headed over to the camp kitchen, where whole lambs were already turning slowly over a spit. Waving to Dave and Wayne, two chefs from The Tin Shed, a new restaurant on the other side of Eumeralla, Rose unwrapped her knives from their protective roll and began to prep the mountain of vegetables she’d brought with her in the van, topping and tailing beans with effortless efficiency. ‘How’s it going, guys? Everything under control?’

  ‘So far so good. Bloody freezing though.’ Wayne rubbed his hands together. They were all rugged up in thick parkas, but the same couldn’t be said for their hands, which had to be bare.

  ‘I’ll go and see if I can pinch one of those braziers.’ Rose gestured to the huddle of metal gas heaters at one end of the track.

  ‘Good idea. I’ll help you shift it,’ said Wayne.

  The rest of the morning flew by, and the weather grew warm enough for the chefs to cast off their heavy coats. Mattie and Astrid put the finishing touches to the tables.

  ‘It looks amazing, Mattie,’ Rose called out, looking up from her work.

  Mattie turned and gave her a grin. ‘I know, hasn’t Astrid done a great job?’

  ‘You both have,’ she replied. ‘It’s spectacular.’

  The long line of tables was clothed in starched white linen, and glasses and silverware gleamed in the sunlight. Crimson berries interspersed with winter-crisped vine leaves added colour and warmth to the setting. It was simple, but breathtaking.

  ‘What a day!’ exclaimed Astrid, who was joining Thommo and his parents for lunch. Mattie was going to be sitting with Mark and the kids, and Dan and his wife were coming as well. ‘We’ve got the last of the place names to set out and then we’re done. Phew!’

  ‘You’ve earned your lunch, that’s for sure,’ said Rose. ‘Thanks so much for all your help.’

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ replied Mattie, her eyes shining with pleasure at the scene.

  ‘Looking forward to seeing Charlie?’ Rose teased.

  Mattie grinned at her. ‘Maybe …’

  *

  When almost all of the guests had sat down and the first course was served, Mattie took her place next to Mark, Rose, Leo, Luisa and Dan and his wife, all the while keeping a lookout for Charlie. She checked her phone again. No messages.

  The main course was just being served when she noticed him arrive. Her heart stopped. He looked as heart-stoppingly sexy as she’d remembered and it was all she could do to prevent herself from racing over to him. In fact, she was about to do just that when she noticed a chic-looking woman, swathed in a thick scarf and wearing impossibly skinny jeans, accompanying him. They were holding hands.

  Her joy at seeing him turned to an icy dread.

  She saw the rapt expression on the woman’s face as she laughed at something Charlie said to her, his blond head angling towards her dark one. What the bloody hell was going on? Was this Marie-Claire? Somehow she knew it must be. Wasn’t she supposed to be back in France? And wasn’t their relationship supposed to be completely over?

  The mystery of his companion was soon solved. Charlie brought her over to where Mark and Mattie were standing and, though he didn’t quite meet Mattie’s eye, introduced her. Her instinct had been right. Marie-Claire. The French fiancée. Mattie forced herself to exchange a few words, and found her completely charming, with delightfully accented English. Bugger, Mattie thought. She couldn’t even find a reason to dislike her. Charlie, on the other hand, had a serious amount of explaining to do …

  The rest of the afternoon was a blur of food and wine as Rose and the rest of the team worked to make sure everyone was fed and watered and Mattie silently fumed, doing her best not to stare at Charlie and Marie-Claire, who were sitting further down the table.

  Mattie saw Rose on her way to the camp kitchen and jumped up. ‘Need some help?’ she asked.

  ‘Thanks, that’d be great.’

  Amanda, who’d come to the lunch with her banker husband – Jonathan or George or something, Mattie couldn’t quite remember – joined them. ‘So,’ Amanda said, ‘that’s the mysterious Marie-Claire then?’

  Mattie glanced at her but said nothing.

  Amanda continued, undaunted. ‘I have to say she’s not as pretty as I thought she would be. But,’ she added quickly, ‘she’s certainly très chic. There’s something about French women, isn’t there? They seem to have style oozing out of every pore. Let’s hope she can tame Charlie, hey? He always was a wild one. Mattie, do you remember that time at primary school when he let the phasmids out of their enclosure at recess?’

  Mattie smiled faintly.

  ‘And when he collected tadpoles and put them in the teacher’s coffee mug? Hilarious!’ Amanda gave a trill of laughter. ‘Well, anyway, she seems lovely and I’m sure he doesn’t get up to those kind of tricks any more,’ she said, picking up another bottle of wine and returning to the table.

  ‘Are you okay?’ said Rose when Amanda was out of earshot. ‘It’s all a bit of a surprise, isn’t it? Did you know Marie-Claire was coming?’

  ‘Nope. He didn’t mention her at all when we went out for dinner, nor in his messages while he’s been away. Funny that.’

  ‘Oh, Mattie,’ said Rose, giving her a squeeze.

  Mattie shook her head. ‘Damn it if she isn’t nice as well. Ugh. I can’t even … Men! They’re all the same. Feckless bastards.’

  Soon afterwards, Mattie excused herself from lunch with a headache. As she left, she inadvertently caught Charlie’s eye and he flashed her a brief look of apology. She flicked her gaze away angrily. She told herself she didn’t care, that Charlie was welcome to do as he pleased. They’d only shared a kiss … it meant nothing.

  As she drove home, she wondered if it might be a good idea to leave the valley sooner rather than later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘Anyone up?’

  At first Mattie thought she must be imagining things. That voice belonged half a world away, its owner most likely propping up a bar in deepest Kensington, knocking back a neon-coloured cocktail, not at here at Kalkari when the sun had barely risen over the Shingle Hills.

  ‘Hey! Anybody home?’

  Mattie had heard a car pull up, but thought nothing of it. However, she’d know that husky tone anywhere. A voice that would carry across three suburbs. She wrapped herself in a dressing gown and hobbled to the door.

  ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘Well, that’s a nice welcome if ever I heard one, mate.’ Cara stood next to an unfamiliar car, arms folded in mock annoyan
ce.

  Ignoring the sting of the gravel as it cut into her bare feet, Mattie stumbled forward and hugged her friend tight. ‘How? Why? What the hell?’ She was almost lost for words, laughing and crying at the same time.

  ‘Come on, mate, it’s bollocks bloody freezing out here. Can we go inside?’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ Mattie suddenly noticed that her feet had turned to blocks of ice. ‘Come over to the barn. I’ll just nip in and get my uggs. Oh, Cara I can’t believe you’re here!’

  Cara followed her. ‘Nice. Really nice,’ she said, looking around and taking in the old stone house and the winery as they walked. ‘You didn’t tell me you lived in such a gorgeous set-up. It was a stunning drive up here from the city – well, once it got light, that is; I was up at sparrow’s fart. That’s jet lag for you. The vineyards are gorgeous. Roos, sheep, everything. Honestly, the whole place looks like something out of a freakin’ tourism brochure.’

  ‘It is pretty, isn’t it?’ Mattie agreed. ‘But I’m still in shock at the sight of you. The last thing I expected was you turning up on the doorstep like this. I thought you were never going to come back to Australia. What are you doing here, in the Shingle Valley, of all places?’

  ‘Have you seen the weather in England recently? It’s been a shithouse summer. One more rainy day and I thought I might slit my wrists.’ Cara grinned at her. ‘Nah, I got busted for swearing at our biggest advertiser. Arrogant fuckwit. He so deserved it. Bit of a career-limiting move though. Bianca made sure that the entire industry heard about it, so no one will hire me now. Witch.’

  Mattie gasped.

  ‘So I sublet my flat, got out my credit card and booked a seat on the first flight home,’ Cara continued. I figured it was about time I played the prodigal daughter card. I’m staying with the olds in Vaucluse, and Mum lent me her car for a while. So,’ Cara paused, flinging her arms wide. ‘Ta da! Here I am. I thought you might be starved for some decent company.’

  ‘Knock me down with a feather, Car. I really can’t believe it. How long can you stay for? You are staying, aren’t you? There’s plenty of space; you can easily bunk with me in the barn. I’m sure Mark won’t mind at all. There’s a spare bedroom, so you won’t have to put up with my snoring. It’s even tidy in there – no more using the floor as a wardrobe,’ Mattie said as she ushered her friend into the barn, her words tumbling over each other in her excitement.

  ‘No way!’ Cara’s eyes widened as she looked around the immaculate room. ‘Things have changed, Matilda Cameron.’

  ‘Maybe just a little,’ she said, grinning. ‘So, can you stay?’

  ‘Of course! I didn’t drive all this way just for a cuppa. Though, come to think of it, something to warm me up would be good.’ She was wearing a quilted down jacket with skin-tight white pants and knee-high leather riding boots, but Cara shivered exaggeratedly in the morning chill.

  Mattie smiled again at the sight of her perfectly-accessorised-for-the-country friend. ‘Of course, let’s go over to the house. The kids should be up by now and it’ll be heaps warmer over there.’

  They clattered into the cosy kitchen. ‘Rose, this is my friend Cara, from London,’ said Mattie. Rose was standing at the range, stirring a vast pot of porridge while Leo and Luisa sat by the window, teasing Gin and Tonic with a ball of string.

  ‘Hello, Cara,’ said Rose, waving a spoon at them. ‘Welcome to Kalkari. Fancy some breakfast? There’s plenty, more than enough in fact. I do tend to forget that I’m not feeding 500.’ She laughed.

  ‘Isn’t she a dead ringer for Nigella Lawson’s younger sister?’ said Mattie. ‘Cooks even better than Nigella too.’

  ‘I reckon,’ said Cara. ‘And if you’re sure, that’d be great. I had such an early start, and I’ve only had servo coffee to keep me going.’ She shuddered at the memory.

  ‘Nigella, eat your heart out,’ said Rose. ‘This will be the best porridge you’ve ever tasted – especially with my maple-pecan topping.’

  ‘Porridge is my favourite,’ said Luisa gazing in wonder at the glamorous new arrival.

  Cara certainly cut a striking figure. A beanie covered her head and a cream scarf peeked out over the collar of her puffy jacket. With her fair skin and white-blonde hair she looked more Game of Thrones ice queen than flesh and blood human.

  ‘Oh, mine too,’ she agreed, pulling off her hat and shaking out her hair. ‘Brown sugar or honey?’

  ‘Brown sugar,’ Luisa replied seriously.

  ‘Snap!’ cried Cara. ‘That must mean we are soul sisters.’ Cara held out her pinky finger to Luisa and the little girl smiled and grasped it in her own.

  ‘Well, I see you’ve found a fan,’ said Mattie, handing her a mug of tea.

  ‘I love little girls. Especially ones as adorable as this munchkin.’ She winked at Luisa.

  A loud rapping on the back door drew everyone’s attention.

  ‘Come in,’ called Rose.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you so early.’ Jake appeared in the doorway. There was a pause as he glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on Cara, who was, like the rest of them, looking up at him with curiosity.

  Mattie could almost see the sparks fly, an electricity that seemed all at once to illuminate both of them, setting them apart from everyone else in the room.

  Uh-oh, she thought. This could be interesting.

  There was silence for a brief moment as Jake shook his head and seemed to be trying to refocus. ‘Sorry to barge in, Rose,’ he said, ‘but some idiot seems to have blocked the track to the winery. Got any ideas? It’s a flash Beemer.’

  ‘Oh, that’d be me,’ said Cara, smiling unapologetically at him and holding out her hand for him to shake. ‘The idiot in the flash Beemer.’

  ‘Right, okay then,’ said Jake, taking her hand. ‘If you wouldn’t mind …’

  ‘It’d be my pleasure,’ She gave him a wide-eyed smile and sauntered past him out of the kitchen door.

  Less than half an hour later another car pulled up outside the house and then there was a knock at the door.

  Jeez, it’s like Clapham bloody Junction around here today, thought Mattie. Rose was packing lunches for Leo and Luisa, so Mattie went to answer the door, wondering who on earth it could be this time.

  She was shocked to see a uniformed policeman standing on the doorstep. He introduced himself as Officer Brock Doyd.

  ‘I’m afraid Mark’s away at the moment, if it’s him you’re after?’ Mattie said.

  ‘Perhaps I might come in?’

  Had something happened to Mark? ‘Of course,’ Mattie said, ‘excuse my manners. I’m just not used to police officers showing up on the doorstep. It’s nothing bad, is it?’

  ‘Why don’t we talk inside?’ suggested Officer Doyd.

  Her stomach filled with a leaden dread. ‘Is it Mark?’ she said quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

  ‘I’d like to speak with you, and anyone else in the residence, if I may,’ he said, ignoring her question.

  Mattie led him into the hallway and through the kitchen. ‘Rose, Mark’s partner, is here, and my friend Cara, though she only arrived this morning.’

  Officer Doyd visibly choked when he entered the kitchen. Cara, who was leaning against one of the cupboards, long legs stretched out in front of her, had shucked off her down jacket and scarf, revealing the sheer white singlet underneath. Cara wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples stood out like peanuts, thanks to the cold draught he’d brought in. Keeping his eyes firmly on her face, he reached for his notebook. ‘Miss, er, um, Rose?’

  Cara smirked. ‘Not me, Officer.’

  ‘That’s me,’ said Rose, drying her hands on a tea towel. ‘What’s going on?’

  The tips of Officer Doyd’s ears had turned pink. ‘We’ve had an incident of vandalism. At the property on the Wybree-Eumeralla turnoff’ – he consulted his notebook – ‘Tarrawenna. There are reports of three males and one female, all Caucasian, between twenty and fifty years of age, being seen in the area l
ast night. I will need to take a formal statement from each of you as to your whereabouts in the past twenty-four hours. It’s no secret that Tarrawenna is now owned by Tin Pei Resources, and that there’s been considerable local opposition to that purchase,’ he continued. ‘As Mark is the head of the Shingle Valley Preservation Association, I will also need to speak with him in regard to the incident.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Later that week, Cara and Mattie drove into Eumeralla. ‘The Southern Cross is about all there is in terms of nightlife in the valley,’ Mattie apologised as they got out of the car. ‘But it’s not bad, as pubs go. Be thankful that it’s too cold for the weekly cockroach races.’

  Cara looked horrified. She was a city girl through and through. She quickly recovered herself and waved an airy hand. ‘As long as there’s cold beer and hot men, I’m in.’

  Mattie spluttered. ‘Very funny, Car. You know you’ve only been here five minutes and already you’ve got half the town talking.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Astrid said that she’d heard it from Thommo Drummond, who heard it from God knows who, that Officer Doyd was more than a little dumbstruck by your appearance the other day, not to mention that Jake’s been hanging around a lot more than usual.’

  Cara laughed and twirled in front of her. ‘What can I say? If you’ve got it … C’mon, let’s go in. I’m dry as a drover’s dog, not to mention bloody freezing.’

  ‘Freezing? In that?’ Mattie indicated Cara’s fluffy rabbit-fur vest and the gold sequinned balloon-sleeved shirt underneath it. ‘Babe, the Southern Cross isn’t going to know what’s hit it.’

  ‘They’re statement sleeves,’ she said, lifting her arms in and wafting the gauzy fabric in the air. ‘They’re a thing.’