5 Peppermint Grove

by Jackson, Michelle

  Julia frowned. “He’s engrossed in Gillian’s conversation from what I can see.”

  “Julia, Dylan has had a massive crush on you since the first day he saw you – why, when you give him such a hard time, I’ll never know.”

  “Well, he certainly doesn’t behave as if he likes me at all!”

  “That’s because you unnerve him – you unnerve most men. Surely you realise that you have this effect on other people – especially men?”

  Julia was aghast. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  Odette shook her head. “It’s only because I’m your sister that I know you’re speaking the truth. For someone so accomplished you can be frustratingly naïve at times, Julia!”

  “You’re imagining things, Odette – I’m going to the bar to get you some more bubbles!”

  Julia couldn’t see her sister’s point of view at all. It really made no sense and anyway she didn’t want Dylan to have any feelings for her – of attraction or otherwise. She should have remained at home and concentrated on the brochures that needed completion before she took off for Perth.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sunday morning and Ruth woke in a state of bewilderment. The loneliness had lifted with the daylight and the squawking of the strange bird in the garden. At first she thought that it was a baby crying but then realised it was a bird. She wondered what kind – there were no seagulls or thrushes to wake her like there had been in Clontarf.

  Steve had left a map of Perth with bus and train timetables on the kitchen table. She wasn’t in the mood for exploring just yet – she needed to get a handle on her jet lag. But she wouldn’t mind finding a supermarket to help get her bearings – Steve had been so kind to leave so much food but she wanted to get some other bits and pieces. She could take a chance and stroll out onto the street or Google. She decided on the latter and found a supermarket called Coles that opened at eleven on Sundays. Her body clock was all over the place and she felt as if it was the middle of the night but it was still only nine in the morning. She wondered if Julia was still awake – it was worth a try. She sent her a text and was thrilled to see her come up online. She set up her laptop and only had to wait for three rings to see Julia appear on her screen.

  “Hi, there – how are you getting on – arrived safely?”

  “Yep – I’ve Wi-Fi and my house is fab – very little to report yet, just trying to sort out communications.”

  “How was the flight?”

  “Heaven on earth, Ju – business class was a massive thrill for me. Steve invited me around to his house last night – it was great to meet so many Aussies – they are so kind and welcoming.”

  “Oh good, I’m glad to hear it – better than my night, that’s for sure.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went to the yacht club against my better judgement. Craig was a no-show again – I’m really worried about Odette – something is up there.”

  Ruth hated to admit it but she thought so too – especially after watching them at Christmas.

  “Was Dylan there?”

  “Yeah, and he was fawning all over Gillian.”

  “Gillian?”

  “Yeah, my receptionist – you know her?”

  “Gosh, I didn’t realise that you were pally.”

  “Oh, I invited her out for a drink – it was because I was missing you so much – that’s what happens when all your friends and family leave the country. I feel like some day I’m going to turn around and be the last person left here.”

  “Ha, ha – you have Horatio!”

  “Even he was saying that he’d love to check out Australia – I swear you have started a trend, Ruth. Oh, and by the way, Michael wants to come over and visit us in Perth when I’m there.”

  “Well, there’s plenty of room – the air-conditioning makes funny noises at night but apart from that it’s cool!”

  “Thank God for Skype – it feels like you’re in the next room.”

  “I’ll keep in touch every day!”

  “You had better – now I have to go to bed, Ruth – I’m exhausted. Keep me posted on all your exciting news – I’m depending on living vicariously through you!”

  “I’ll do my best not to disappoint!”

  Monday morning couldn’t come quickly enough. Having spent the entire day Sunday totally on her own – not speaking with a soul apart from Julia and the lady in the supermarket – she was ready for work. Steve had sent her a message saying that he would pick her up at eight o’clock and she was counting the minutes.

  Her stroll through Subiaco the day before had been nice. It was a lively suburb and there would be plenty to do – if she had someone to do it with of course. She hoped that she would make a friend in work but knew she would be very much on her own with the Tourism Ireland remit. Steve had the tenure for promoting several countries and he took a large portion of the responsibility but Ruth presumed that she would be doing the majority of the work.

  The timing of her arrival was perfect for the monthly lunch between all of the departments that Steve managed. She was shown into her office and welcomed by beautiful smiling faces – some Asian, others European, and all highly alert and bright.

  “This is the team,” Steve glowed with pride. “It’s a global office and I think you will have fun working here.”

  He turned on her computer and showed her the passwords needed to work the system.

  “We are going out to Sandalford at about eleven thirty – takes about half an hour to drive there.” He winked at Ruth. “You’ll be coming with me!”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Angela was tormented since Ruth had left. Her memories of Perth were returning vividly as each day passed. The tension between her and her husband had also returned. It was compounded by the fact that that he refused point blank to plan a trip to visit Ruth in the summer.

  “There’s no reason in the world why we can’t go out to see her,” Angela had said earlier.

  “It’s the wrong time to go to Australia,” Fred said. “Sure the summer is the only chance of a bit of good weather here – we could leave it until Christmas.”

  “It’s alright for you,” Angela berated her husband. “You go around half the day with your head stuck in the newspaper following those bloody horses. I am the one that’s going to miss my only daughter.”

  “Next you’ll be wanting to go to Canada and visit Kevin.”

  Angela bit the side of her lip. She was more anxious about travelling across the Atlantic Ocean as she didn’t feel she would be getting a warm welcome from her daughter-in-law, Orla. The Kerrywoman still hadn’t forgiven her for asking her to stay out of the family photograph when Niall was married last year. Such a silly thing to fall out about. She should respect Angela’s way of doing things and this was after all a portrait of her family with her younger son’s new bride. Tensions had always been there since Kevin had moved to Kerry. Angela couldn’t understand why Orla was perfectly happy to come to Dublin to find a husband but then insisted on dragging him to the wilds of Kerry with his young family as soon as she got her claws into him. And now as if that wasn’t enough she was taking him further away to the other side of the world.

  “Don’t be silly, Fred, Orla will never have us in her house again.”

  “After the fiasco at Christmas I can’t say I blame her,” Fred said with a nod of his head and a rustle of his newspaper.

  Angela regretted the little outburst that she had on Christmas Day. She shouldn’t have blamed her daughter-in-law for her son’s financial difficulties and what was ultimately a national problem. But it was Orla’s idea to invest in all those properties and put her husband under pressure to feel that their only alternative was emigration. She would probably not have lashed out were she not feeling so low after Niall’s marriage earlier in the year. She was suffering from empty-nest syndrome and it was becoming more and more difficult to fill her days. In the evenings she would write in her diary as she alw
ays had but lately it had been filled with little news of activity and more wallowing in self-pity and emotion. It was the one habit that remained constant in her life, before she left for Australia and since she returned. She didn’t need to re-read the diaries to recall the exact emotions she felt while living there. But she did need to keep writing. It was the only way she could try and make sense of what happened around her.

  Angela had left Fred engrossed in the line-up for the two-thirty at Haydock. He was a simple man who had settled with ease into his slippers after retirement from the Guinness Brewery. He didn’t seem to hanker for the life that he had left in Australia and apart from his pint in the Elphin pub a couple of nights a week he made very few demands on Angela or their marriage.

  Angela had always said she would never return to Australia and Fred had never shown any interest in going back either. But the pull of her daughter was too much for her and she desperately needed to know when she would see her again.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Steve seemed to like showing off the best of Perth as they drove through the suburbs. “We’re lucky that our office is so central – you may not need a car but if you want to hire one we can fix you up until you decide to buy or not.”

  “Oh, I think I would like to have my own car – maybe if there is a website or garage that you recommend I could have a browse?”

  “Cars aren’t cheap in Perth and you have probably noticed that most people drive Jap cars because they are so reliable.”

  “I thought everyone would be going around in convertibles in this climate.”

  “Nah, it’s too hot for that – air con is what you need in your car – most important! Get a Rav 4 or something trendy that would suit a young girl like yourself.”

  “I might just do that,” she said with a smile.

  They crossed the Swan River and came to a massive white building set amongst lush green gardens.

  “That’s Burswood – Perth’s casino and entertainment centre – sometimes we use the convention centre for work but it’s mostly for concerts and shows.”

  They continued driving and passed the airport along the Great Eastern Highway before coming to a remarkably quaint town.

  “This is Guilford – we used to live here.”

  They drove past the crumbling remains of the Guildford Hotel. “Some say that place was haunted – it burnt down a couple of years back but there’s a big push on to save it – it’s over 120 years old.” He laughed out loud. “You probably know guys with undies older than that in Ireland but here in Perth we haven’t got many old places!”

  Ruth giggled. Steve was remarkably frank and she liked the familiar way that he addressed her. It was a world away from the type of relationship that she had shared with her old boss Oliver.

  “That pub is gorgeous!” She pointed over at a wooden building.

  “That’s the Rose and Crown.” He slowed the car down. “One of my personal favourite spots – hey, why don’t we come back here another day – it’s one of the oldest . . . but there I go again talking to an Irishwoman about old places!”

  They drove over a quaint wooden bridge that reminded Ruth of a setting from a movie.

  “That bridge looks just like the one in the The Bridges of Madison County.”

  “That weepy movie with Clint Eastwood – wrecked his reputation as far as I was concerned!” he joked.

  “I loved that movie – read the book too. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

  “Ah, I’m sure there are plenty of guys with broken hearts all over Ireland since you left.”

  Ruth took his comments as a compliment and smiled shyly but hated herself for dedicating so many years of love and affection to a man who seemed not to have cared for her after all. She wondered if Ian was pleased in a way that she had disappeared out of the country.

  As they turned onto West Swan Road rows of vines – neatly planted in their hundreds – lined up only metres from the burnt-sienna earth at the side of the road. Overhead cables drew a long line of perspective that ended at a point far ahead in the distance. Every few metres a house or gate lodge sprang up amidst the bushes and vines. A blue van that looked like a cross between a racing car and pick-up truck overtook them at break-neck speed.

  “What was that?” Ruth asked.

  “That’s a Ute – very popular with the boy racers over here.”

  “There’s so much to get used to – it feels like America but it’s very different, isn’t it?”

  “We like America – have you noticed all the American TV programmes?”

  “Yes – I have to admit that I was up at five o’clock this morning – still not quite on Australian time yet!”

  “You’ll get there – and here we are now.”

  They came to the large and imposing entrance to Sandalford Winery, the emblem of a stag emblazoned across the top of the pillars at either side. Sandalford Winery was written along the wall on the left-hand side and Caversham across the other.

  “This is where they have concerts in the summer – Michael Buble played last year.”

  “I like him!” Ruth said as her eyes scanned all around.

  “The others are probably already here.”

  He parked and a wall of heat hit them as they opened the car doors and stepped out of their air-conditioned protection. The sun baked down on top of them and they quickened their steps to take shelter in the winery.

  A couple were eating al fresco under a pergola of vines and Ruth watched with amazement as fine water-jets sprayed out to cool them down.

  “What a cool idea!” Ruth said.

  “My wife doesn’t like to sit outside because she says it ruins her hair!” he laughed. “So I always book a table indoors when there are girls in our party – which I am pleased to say there usually are!”

  Inside the foyer walls were lined with posters for all of the concerts and performances that the winery had hosted. The main hallway led to a shop and wine-tasting area. Steve rested his hand on Ruth’s lower back and gently guided her in towards the counter and the bottles on display.

  “I think you should pick our wines for lunch as this is your first time joining us.”

  Steve had a way of making Ruth feel so special that she wondered how she had put up with Ian’s treatment for so long. Steve was gentle yet firm and manly in a way that Ian had never been with her.

  She tasted a sweet red and didn’t like it – then tried a few others and settled on a Merlot. The whites were harder to choose because they were all nice but she went for the Verdelho which was a grape variety that originated in Portugal according to Steve. The rest of the crew were all seated when Ruth and Steve finally came into the restaurant to eat.

  A huge fireplace made of granite was the centre piece in the cool stone-clad restaurant. Upon it rested numerous cups and medals that the fine wines had been awarded over the years. The furniture was carved from a mahogany wood. A grand candle-stand with dozens of candles rested beside the mantel and more trophies and accolades hung proudly on the shelves.

  There were ten altogether sitting for lunch. Ruth had met six already and Steve introduced her to the Japanese tourist board who were made up of Ikuko and Kai. She couldn’t recall the names of all the people that she had met earlier but would make a huge effort over lunch to talk to everyone. That was if she got the chance – Steve was hogging her attention and she wasn’t minding it one little bit.

  The lunch was almost noveau cuisine with minute but tasty portions that resembled amuse-bouches rather than full courses. But the wine was exquisite and Steve poured it copiously into her glass.

  “How am I going to go back to work if I have another glass?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Steve said with a smug grin. “We don’t work after these lunches.”

  The rest of her colleagues were engrossed in conversation but she was sure that it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Steve was devoting all his attention to her. She would have liked to speak with the othe
rs and mingle more but Steve was certainly making it difficult to do so. When the beautiful Italian Marni came over just before dessert and started to ask her about Dublin and a guy that she had met in Sydney years ago who hailed from Mayo, she felt a little relieved.

  Steve went out to pay the bill as peals of relaxed laughter rang out around the table. This was a very different business lunch to any of the ones that she had been a part of in Dublin. Life was different in Australia but, from what Marni was saying, the Aussies were just like the Irish – casual and worked to live – rather than the other way around!

  Steve came back to the table and bid his farewells. He looked over at Ruth. “I can drop you home if you like?”

  A cackle came from Ikuko at the end of the table and all eyes were on what Ruth would do and say next. A creepy feeling ran up Ruth’s back – as if all those at the table were in cahoots or had an inside track on Steve’s style and habits.

  Damned if she went with him and damned if she didn’t, she stood up.

  “See you in the morning, Ruth,” Helenka from Poland said.

  The smiling faces looked up at her and she felt as if she was under a spotlight.

  “Very nice to meet you all,” she said and waved as she followed Steve.

  “They are a good crew and will be there for you if you need any help but you will probably be working mostly on your own,” Steve said as he took a left onto the Tonkin Highway, following a different route home. He was very much the polite tour guide and Ruth could understand why he had found his career in the travel industry.

  By the time they reached Subiaco it was three thirty and Ruth didn’t relish the prospect of spending the next sixteen and a half hours totally on her own until she went into work the next morning.

  She felt a smidgen of relief as Steve left her off at the door with a friendly wave goodbye. For a moment back in the winery she’d felt as if he was flirting with her but that was obviously her own insecurities lurking in her head.

  She entered her sweet little bungalow and went into the kitchen. Her feet made hollow thuds on the wooden floorboards. This was living alone but it was different – she was living alone in a foreign country. She had to think of something to do to fill her evening but, without a car to explore or somebody to explore with, she didn’t know what to do.