‘Sarah?’
He stood in the passage doorway. I blinked. Cold sweat drenched my armpits. Something bit into my fingers and it took me a second to realise I was clenching the car keys hard enough to puncture skin.
‘Doug,’ I said.
His mouth moved but no sounds emerged. He looked older, worn down.
‘You look well,’ he said, after several attempts getting started. ‘Life in Miners Ridge must agree with you these days.’ There was bitterness in his tone. I lifted my shoulders.
‘Two of my three children and my grandchildren live here. Grace is thousands of kilometres away. Where else was there for me to go?’
‘What brings you out here then?’
His hair was overlong and untidy, his clothes dishevelled. He hadn’t shaved. Where was the handsome, charming man I’d fallen in love with all those years ago? The man standing six paces away bore little resemblance to that person.
‘I want to talk about Timothy, and collect a few things that belong to me.’
Though I trembled on the inside, I was relieved when my voice came out steady and sure. I decided the best way to approach the conversation would be as if I were meeting a past acquaintance—someone I had known, but barely knew now. My heart slowed, my sticky armpits began to dry.
He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. I didn’t flinch or look away.
‘I’ll put the kettle on, make tea,’ he said, and while he did I took stock of the farmhouse kitchen, once an extension of myself.
The appliances were the same, only older and more tired. The paint on the walls was peeling in places, and I saw the same curtains at the window and the same scuffed linoleum underfoot. I’d made the curtains but the lino was a hangover from when Joylene had been queen of this castle.
When Luke had started school, I’d suggested we replace the floor covering with something fresh and new. I’d been given the standard answer: ‘And where’s the money supposed to come from for that?’
As I gazed around the room, memories flooded back, all but swamping me. Thirty-five years I’d lived in this house, arriving as a new bride full of excitement and anticipation. A wife brimming with ideas of how I’d put my stamp on the place. Pregnant with Grace and not even knowing it yet.
Four children and thirty-five years’ worth of memories …
‘Do you miss the place?’ Doug’s gravelly voice pulled me back to the present. He’d put two mugs of tea and a container of biscuits on the kitchen table.
‘It’s been eight years, Doug. I’ve had plenty of time to get used to not living here.’
He grunted and sat down. The tea was just how I liked it. Strong, with a dash of milk and one sugar.
‘You remembered,’ I said.
‘I remember a lot.’
We sipped in silence. I could hear birds singing outside the open window. Sun slanted across the kitchen sink.
‘Why didn’t you read my letters or return any of my phone calls?’ I said, the question bursting from my lips like it had been sitting there, waiting, for all these years. I suppose it had.
He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat twice before answering.
‘What would have been the point? There was nothing I could change to make you come back.’
‘Oh, Doug, surely you can do better than that. I know our marriage had its ups and downs. Whose doesn’t? But I thought the foundation was firm. But it wasn’t, was it? When it was really tested, it crumbled. We all lost Luke that day, not just you.’
‘But you were the one who left, not me.’
‘I might have been the one to physically leave, but you abandoned me, and the children, the day Luke died. It took me three years to accept that you weren’t coming back.’
‘You seem to have done all right for yourself, just the same. Fancy car, fancy clothes.’
‘You know very well it’s Grace’s car,’ I said, struggling to hold on to my temper. Doug did belligerence so well.
He drained his mug of tea. ‘More?’ he said and I shook my head. My mug was still half full.
‘I didn’t come here to argue, I came to talk about Tim.’
‘What about Tim?’ He sat back, folded his arms across his broad chest. He might have aged but there wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh on him.
‘He’s very unhappy, and I’m worried about him.’
If I hadn’t been watching Doug’s face intently I would have missed the fleeting grimace.
‘But you knew he was unhappy, didn’t you,’ I said slowly, as the realisation dawned. ‘And you’ve chosen to ignore it, because if he left you’d have to pay someone to do the work he does.’
‘He’ll get his fair share of the farm, when I’m not here anymore.’
I laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was either that or shout at him. Didn’t he care what was happening to his son?
I stared at him until he swallowed and cleared his throat again. ‘Not my job to make him happy,’ he said.
At that moment I was angrier than I’d ever been before in my life. I literally saw red. I didn’t know whether to stand up or keep sitting, to stay or to leave. Doug watched me, his expression smug.
‘Well, I’m making it my job,’ I said through clenched teeth.
‘Why the sudden interest, Sarah?’
‘I didn’t ever lose interest, Doug. Ask Tim how many times I called him. Ask Faith the same question. For communication to work it needs to be a two-way thing.’
His lips twisted but he didn’t speak.
‘And in case you’re wondering, Tim didn’t put me up to this. He’d be mortified if he knew I was here pleading his case.’
‘Not man enough to do it himself—’
The chair crashed back and hit the floor when I lunged to my feet.
‘Don’t you dare,’ I said, enunciating carefully, wagging a trembling finger at him. ‘It is because he is a man with integrity that he came back after Luke died, and has stayed ever since.’
‘Leave Luke out of this.’
My jaw dropped. ‘This is all about Luke! If he were still here, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. He’d be here working with you, and Tim would be off doing whatever he wanted to do with his life. End of story.’
‘This land has been farmed by Fairleys for four generations,’ he said. ‘Tim is where he’s supposed to be.’
‘Not if it’s somewhere he doesn’t want to be. Not in this day and age, Doug. And I know he doesn’t want to be here. He hates it. It’s destroying him. I’ve lost one son and I won’t sit by and lose another.’
Doug blanched at that but I couldn’t regret saying it. Not looking so smug now, he stood up and took the mugs to the sink to rinse them.
With his back still to me he said, ‘How’s Grace?’ and his sudden change of subject had me momentarily confused.
‘She’s been sick with glandular fever,’ I said when he turned to face me. ‘She’s over the worst now by all accounts. Other than that I think she’s settling in.’
‘You must miss her.’
‘I do.’
And then he floored me again, saying, ‘Tim said your mother died.’
‘Yes, on the nineteenth of May. Pneumonia got her in the end, and she had quite severe dementia. By then she didn’t recognise any of us.’
‘I’m sorry. She always treated me well. Probably better than I deserved.’
‘She treated everybody well, whether they deserved it or not.’
‘She did,’ he murmured, his gaze on his feet. ‘And Faith, has she lightened up any about you being back?’
‘Not that you’d notice.’
‘She will. You know Faith, just takes a bit longer for the penny to drop.’
‘Perhaps. Out of our four children she’s the one I’ve understood the least. If she decides she can’t forgive and forget, I’ll live with that, but I won’t live with not knowing my grandchildren. Surely she knows I’d never harm them.’
‘Give her time, Sarah. Like I
said, it takes her longer to work through things.’
I almost pinched myself because I couldn’t believe we were having a conversation, like civilised adults, about our children. But I hadn’t finished with Tim, even if he had.
‘Are you planning on staying put in Miners Ridge?’
‘I haven’t thought past the six-month lease I’ve taken on the house,’ I said.
Doug glanced at the kitchen clock and I almost laughed out loud, because I knew what was coming.
‘I’d better get going,’ he said, just as I’d expected. ‘Stuff to do in the shed, and then some fencing.’ It was almost word-for-word.
Balancing with one hand on the kitchen doorframe he pulled on his work boots.
‘Take whatever it is you want. Everything’s where you left it. There’re cardboard boxes in the sleep-out.’
‘What about Tim?’ I said.
He straightened up, rasping his hand across his whiskers. The kitchen clock ticked loudly. I began to wonder if he was going to answer at all.
Then he said, ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said.’
I couldn’t ask for more than that, could I?
30
It was just as well that I knew where I was going, because I made the return journey to Fourth Avenue in a daze. In the frame of mind I was in, I probably shouldn’t have been driving at all. My blood sugar level was already low because I hadn’t eaten since the night before—at least that’s what I contributed my light-headedness to. Plus there would have been residual adrenaline floating around in my bloodstream.
After Doug went to the shed, I packed two cardboard boxes with glassware and other keepsakes. He’d been right: everything was just as I’d left it. I’d have to explore how I felt about that later. Dumbfounded, most likely.
If I’d been a different person, I’d have looked in every cupboard and under every bed, checked out the contents of the fridge and the pantry, and rifled through the paperwork on Doug’s desk in the sleep-out-cum-office. But I wasn’t that person and when I’d gone from room to room to see what I would reclaim, I’d felt as if I was trespassing.
Too emotionally and physically drained to unload the boxes from the car, I kicked off my shoes and ate the last tub of yoghurt and an overripe banana as a late lunch before collapsing onto the bed. I pulled a blanket over myself and slept soundly for three hours.
A vehicle pulling into the driveway woke me. It took me a moment to get my bearings, and by then I heard the heavy tread of footsteps and a knock on the front door.
It was Aaron Halliday, much to my surprise. He hadn’t been near the place since he’d loaned me a television.
‘Mrs Fairley,’ he said, and I rolled my eyes.
‘Sarah, please. Come on in,’ I replied. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. I’ve been having a nanna nap.’ I yawned. ‘I didn’t sleep very well last night.’
He followed me to the kitchen, leaning in the doorway. ‘I was talking to Grace last night—’
‘Oh. Tea or coffee? How is she?’
‘Tea, black, no sugar, thanks. She was good. She’d taken herself out to breakfast and was walking alongside the Thames.’
‘I’m glad she’s doing something other than working for a change. Sit down, Aaron, and tell me what’s on your mind. You didn’t drop in just to tell me you’d been talking to my daughter.’
He sat down. ‘I have a proposition to make you, Sarah.’
‘What has Grace put you up to?’ I said, and was rendered speechless when he went on to offer me a job as his bookkeeper.
‘Grace thought it’d probably take you a day or two to sort through and make sense of everything, and then an hour or two a week to keep on top of it. What do you think?’
‘It all sounds straightforward enough.’ Much the same as the farm bookkeeping—outgoings and incomings and reporting to the tax man.
My financial stress had eased somewhat since Grace had refused to accept any rent for the time I wasn’t living in the unit. However, while I was unreservedly grateful for her generosity, the running costs of the SUV were exorbitant. Extra cash certainly wouldn’t go astray.
Aaron was waiting for an answer, his expression hopeful.
‘Yes, I’m sure that would be doable.’ He visibly relaxed.
We agreed that I’d work as a friend helping him with his books rather than an employee, and he’d pay me cash on the side.
It wasn’t quite above board but neither of us cared. Making ends meet on the aged pension was a perpetual challenge and any extra money was a godsend as far as I was concerned.
‘When do you want me to make a start?’
‘The sooner the better. My bottom line is looking pretty sick at the moment, mainly because I’m way behind on my invoicing.’
‘I could make a start on Wednesday. Here, or at your place?’
‘Doesn’t bother me, but I’ve set up one of my spare rooms as an office. There is a computer though …’
‘I do know how to use a computer, Aaron, although it’s been a while since I’ve done anything more than send a few emails.’
My laptop was under the bed, battery as dead as a doornail. I used to be quite proficient at setting up spreadsheets and managing the farm finances.
‘In that case it might be easier if you come to my place, and I can give you a computer refresher if you need it.’
‘All right,’ I said, before I could undermine his offer with self-doubt. ‘What time Wednesday?’
He took out his phone, and tapped and scrolled for a minute.
‘Morning’s out. How about after lunch? One-thirty? I can show you where everything is and you can work for however long you want to.’ He slipped the phone back into his shirt pocket. ‘I have a spare key you can have, if you just flick me a text whenever you’re going to be there.’
‘Okay. I’m free Thursday as well. I could keep working until I have your books sorted out.’
He smiled widely. ‘You have no idea what a load off my mind that is. Grace is a genius.’
‘I’ve decided to volunteer at the gallery as well,’ I said.
‘Really? Carol didn’t waste much time talking you into that. She’s passionate about the place.’
‘It’s better than sitting around here getting bored out of my brain.’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I saw Carol at the pub on the weekend and she mentioned that Louise’s marriage has broken up and she’s moving back to Miners Ridge. The marriage has been a bit shaky for a while, according to Carol.’
‘What a shame. I had no idea. I wonder if Louise’s daughter will come with her mum or stay with her dad?’
‘As far as I know she’ll stick with her mum,’ he said and the look he gave me could only be described as enigmatic.
‘Carol will be happy to have her granddaughter around more. She seems like a sweet kid.’
Somewhat surprised, Aaron said, ‘You’ve met her?’
‘Very briefly, but I’ve seen photos.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, regarding me silently for several seconds. ‘I’d better get a move on. Thanks for the tea.’ He stood up, dwarfing me in my own kitchen.
On the way to the front door, I grabbed the car keys and followed him outside. ‘I’ve got a couple of boxes of gear I want to take in,’ I said, and of course he offered to carry them inside for me.
‘I went out to the farm this morning, picked up a few things while I was there,’ I said, directing him where to put the boxes inside. ‘Gave Doug the shock of his life.’
‘I’ll bet. How did it go? Not that it’s any of my business—’
‘From my point of view, it went better than I’d ever imagined. Haven’t a clue what Doug thinks, although he did look a bit shell-shocked and didn’t offer for me to drop by again anytime soon.’
‘Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.’
‘It had to happen, and I’d be waiting until hell froze over for him to make the first move.’
After he’d driven off I went to t
he kitchen and half-heartedly contemplated what to have for tea. The fridge contained nothing inspiring. Cooking for one person was a chore at the best of times and I seriously needed to do some grocery shopping.
Ten minutes later I walked into the supermarket, grabbed a basket and ran smack-bang into Faith.
She was as surprised as I was. I recovered first. ‘How are you? How are the children? Is Ben home?’
She huffed out an impatient breath. ‘I’m fine, the kids are okay, and Ben goes back the day after tomorrow.’
Anyone could see she wasn’t fine. The shadows under her eyes were deep-set and she had a pimple on her chin. She’d been chewing her fingernails.
‘You look tired,’ I said. She didn’t contradict.
‘Always hectic when Ben’s home,’ she said. ‘I reckon he tries to cram too much into the time he’s home to make up for when he’s not. Amelia and Liam are always ratty because he spoils them and they get out of their routine.’
She paused, looking momentarily horrified that she’d confided this to me.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I said, mentally crossing my fingers. I was there to be exploited, as long as it meant I’d see Liam and Amelia.
She looked down at her hands, knuckles white on the handles of the shopping basket. ‘Well,’ she said, drawing out the word. ‘On Wednesday morning I have to get Ben to the bus in Clare. It’s too early to drop the kids off at school before I go and if I take them with me, they’ll be late for school because I don’t get back here until almost ten.’ She moved the basket to her other hand.
‘If you like I could come around to your place and take them to school, or you could drop them off at my place on your way out.’
Her frown deepened. She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I can drop them off. It’ll be before eight.’
I wanted to dance a little jig, but I didn’t even smile.
We made our way to the fresh produce. ‘I went out to the farm this morning,’ I said, casual as anything. She needed to hear this from me, not Tim, Doug or anyone else. ‘There were a few things of mine I wanted to pick up.’
She threw me a sideways glance as she filled a bag with loose potatoes. ‘So you’re not ever going back to Dad?’
When Grace Went Away Page 19