A Place to Remember

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A Place to Remember Page 16

by Jenn J. McLeod


  Ava ignored the quip. ‘I imagine media attention would be hard to take for any length of time.’

  ‘Grandma called it an ill-mannered intrusion and Mum hated the constant scrutiny. The pair became fierce defenders of our family’s privacy and Dad found the distractions difficult. He was pretty torn, trying to be everything to everyone. I knew my dad first as John Tate, artist in demand, and father second. He was totally obsessed, and even though he did his bit, Mum took over the day-to-day running of the property.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Yeah. These days, good old Katie could run ten of these places and still have time for tea. Wow!’ Blair coughed into his hand. ‘That’s possibly more information about my life than you wanted to hear.’

  Ava managed a smile, despite the mention of Katie’s name. ‘She runs the place with you still?’ His mother’s identity should not have surprised her. What she hadn’t considered was Katie still being here, still involved in John’s life. The magazine article had said the artist had withdrawn from the spotlight to live alone on the family property in Queensland’s Capricornia region.

  ‘Mum likes to think she runs the place.’ Blair grinned. ‘She’s always kept a close eye on everything and everyone. As well as missing nothing she’s a passionate advocate for the advancement of our little town. Not sure Candlebark Creek would be booming if not for her. Right now she’s visiting the town’s sister city. Some impossible-to-pronounce place in Japan.’

  ‘Passion is the key to success in life, Blair.’ Ava was keen to shift the focus from Katie, but glad to know she wouldn’t be bumping into her. ‘Never more true in the hospitality game, as I know from experience.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Pastry chef, Le Cordon Bleu, Paris, 1987.’

  ‘Whoa, seriously? Well, what do you know?’

  ‘Quite a lot about cooking, since you ask.’ She returned the smile. ‘Sounds more impressive than it is, though. When I came home I started a business. Just a bakery.’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean literally what do you know. I meant, well, the thing is I’m in the middle of nutting out a high tea offering to bring some tourist-bus business our way.’

  ‘My goodness, high tea? The latest fad a generation wants to lay claim to when it’s been around for ever. Still, I’m not surprised the concept is so popular, even though people misuse the term. High tea is a meal with a cooked dish and quite different from afternoon tea, which is taken at four o’clock, with a few sandwiches and cakes.’

  ‘I did not know that.’

  ‘What you need for afternoon tea is a variety of tiny sweet treats with big flavour and lots of texture.’

  He seemed to ponder that piece of advice. ‘I have some nice cool water in the house. If you like, you can come up and we’ll find you a room.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Ava turned to head back to her car. ‘I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Great, but, as I said, the track you’re parked on is a dead end. You’ll need directions to my—’

  ‘I know the way.’ Ava waved.

  Chapter 27

  Time To Catch Up

  Blair had been right about the view from the deck. Ava sat at a table overlooking the marbled waters of Candlebark Creek and jotted a gluten-free slice idea on the list Blair had slipped across the table with coffee, toast and a cheeky grin.

  Clouds scudded across the cobalt-blue sky, the same easterly wind whipping up the water’s surface and ruffling the leaves of creek-side trees to encourage a chorus of birdsong. Other guests drifted across the deck dreamily, padding barefooted back and forth between the four lodge rooms, all with water views and spread over the two wings, with the communal kitchen at the centre. Beyond the deck, on the other side of the pampered, well-watered lawns, thirsty paddocks stretched out to meet the horizon. A family of four was preparing for a property tour, the young female guide in the distinctive turquoise T-shirt as bright-eyed and eager as the children bouncing excitedly on a hay bale in the back of the ute.

  *

  When it was time to head over to Ivy-May, Ava gathered her courage, along with her cardigan from the adjacent chair. Blair appeared and sat in the chair where the cardigan had been moments earlier. He placed his mobile phone on the table.

  ‘Listen, Ava, I have to apologise.’ His finger played with the device, twirling it in a circle. ‘I got a bit carried away earlier. I’m not usually so forward with my guests. It wasn’t right to ask for help with menu planning.’

  ‘Good heavens.’ Ava rested a hand on top of his, imagining it was John’s. ‘I don’t mind at all. The hardest thing about retirement is keeping the brain employed. I’m more than happy to share what I’ve learned over the years, especially with a young person who is eager to listen and learn.’

  ‘Then I guess that would make you a baker and a gluten for punishment.’

  Blair was looking quite cocky, unaware Ava had kept an arsenal of jokes locked away for years. She surprised herself when she returned fire, straight-faced. ‘Would that make me a mutton for punishment?’

  Blair hooted. ‘That’s a good one. You’re quick.’

  ‘I’ve been feeling older than I am lately, so I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m also finding young people willing to sit still for any length of time to listen to me are few and far between, including my son. It’s all go, go, go with Tony, whereas you and this lovely establishment are a welcome breath of fresh air and exactly what I need at the moment. There’s a gentleness to the country, as if time is letting us all catch up.’

  ‘Things can get hectic around here when we have a full house and a full yard of cattle to work, but I’d miss the mayhem. That’s why I chose to live here, rather than the city.’

  ‘It’s rare for someone so young to come home to the country.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m really not so young. I’m thirty now and I was out of here almost straight from school, thanks to Mum, who’s never short on advice. “Get the wanderlust out of your system early, Blair,” she’d told me. “Make up your mind what you want to do and make it happen.” So I did. I put those early years to good use and travelled a lot, partied hard and tested the boundaries, as kids do. You know how it goes.’

  ‘I gave those boundaries a bit of a thrashing myself.’

  ‘Ha! I bet you did.’ Blair seemed to relax. ‘To be honest, I think I surprised Mum when I came back to take on the farmstay.’

  ‘What made you decide it was the life for you?’

  ‘Do you believe in Fate, Ava?’ Without waiting for a response, he added, ‘As in right time, right place? I guess you can say the place needed saving and my timing was perfect.’

  ‘Saving from what?’

  ‘As usual, Mum was trying to be everything to everyone and spreading herself thin. She’s pretty driven. After my grandparents died years ago, we hired workers, but with killer costs and the beef industry getting more challenging, I either took over or Mum let the place go. Years later she still thinks she can tell me what to do. I’ve taken a few risks, which she was dead-set against, but everything is starting to come together. I want to prove myself by making it work. The wedding-reception enquiries are good and I reckon the tour-bus business will be a good money spinner if I can get it going.’

  ‘Catering can be very profitable when you have the balance right,’ Ava said. ‘We can swap food stories while I’m here. I’ve racked up a few frequent-flyer points in my time and visited a few too many ports, more than I expected and some several times over. In the eight years my partner Martin and I were together we did far too many P&O cruises. If I ever see another deserted island I’ll scream.’ She felt her smile wane. ‘Poor Martin was wonderful, but he and I were poles apart in so many ways.’ Ava blinked away the tears that the memory of his death could still prompt.

  ‘You mean compatibility score zero?’ Blair asked.

  ‘More like minus forty at times.’ They laughed. ‘But there were good times.’

  ‘Sounds like my wife and I,’ he sai
d.

  ‘I was wondering if you had someone special.’

  ‘I have an ex-wife and a son – Tyson. He’s ten. Sadly he and his mother are tucked away in another bloke’s life, in a high-rise apartment on the Gold Coast.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame.’

  ‘Funny thing is, apart from not seeing Tyson every day, things are not so bad. Veronica and I get on much better now we’re apart. We both knew we’d made a mistake getting together and, rather than stay miserable, we did something about it.’

  ‘No sense trying to stick at a relationship when the love’s not there,’ Ava said.

  Blair nodded. ‘A relatively isolated existence out here isn’t for everyone and it was never going to be enough for Veronica. I get that now, but I can be a bit slow when it comes to women.’

  Ava chortled. ‘I doubt that. Besides, how could anyone not love it here?’

  ‘Oh, she loved the idea of being a big landowner in a small town, until she discovered the place was a lot less impressive because Grandpa O’Brien had sold off parts without telling anyone. Mum discovered the truth by accident. We lost some good grazing paddocks, which is why Ivy-May shares the beef side of the business now, and I’m trying to grow the retreat and function side. In the meantime the banks and I pretty much play a one-step-forward-two-steps-back kind of game.’

  Ava tried not to sound too interested, but it was difficult. She knew how desperate the Tates had been to amalgamate both family properties to reinstate Ivy-May as the biggest and most historically significant landholding in the region.

  ‘Dad’s helped me out with a loan, and by the end of the year, with all the wedding-reception bookings, and if I can add the afternoon tea idea to the business plan and keep the customers happy, I’ll be on target to start paying him back. One loan down.’

  ‘Well, I for one am a very happy customer. It will be lovely not to drive too far after sitting for your father. That place in town really is called the Moo-tel? That’s not the result of a sign writer having a bad day?’

  Blair’s laugh startled a small mob of kangaroos in the distance and they gave up the smorgasbord of green in favour of sanctuary among a small forest of native gums and shrubs lining the waterway. ‘I gather you didn’t notice the butchery named Let’s Meat Later and the hairdresser’s called Cowlick Crusaders? Council decided branding the town was a good idea.’ Blair made to stand, pausing. ‘Ava, I confess having a solo traveller to chat to is a rare pleasure for me. We get mostly lovey-dovey couples and families, and I don’t like to intrude on either. In fact, some couples I never see from check-in to check-out.’

  ‘Well, good luck to them!’ Ava grabbed her handbag from the floor and Blair moved her chair out of the way after she had stood up.

  ‘Then there’s the occasional corporate team-bonding group, and no one’s interested in long conversations with the bloke who runs the place. Just put another log on the fire and keep the beer flowing.’

  ‘Perhaps they don’t want to distract you from your work,’ Ava said.

  ‘Delightful distractions I can handle. In fact, I’m quite envious my father will get to spend the day with you.’

  ‘Of course, not mentioning to your father that the stalker woman is now a guest may be wise.’ She was pleased and reassured when Blair laughed and delivered John’s collaborative wink again.

  ‘You might have a point.’ He collected the empty plates and cutlery, juggling the lot along one strong forearm. ‘You’ll have to forgive Dad. Hospitality was his passion once, and a B-and-B business his vision for Ivy-May. Together, he and Mum had big dreams. Nowadays the old man’s wary of strangers and he’s always been a reluctant celebrity, which means he can come across as a bit negative and difficult.’

  ‘People are naturally curious, especially when it comes to things they don’t understand. Rest assured, Blair, the reason I sought out your father for my portrait has nothing to do with his celebrity or his situation. I promise you.’

  ‘Can I ask why then?’ A son’s protectiveness shone through.

  ‘Well, I did read an article about his acquired-savant syndrome and, coincidentally, I also stayed in Candlebark Creek many years ago.’ She chose her words carefully. ‘I guess you could say my decision to come here for the portrait was part nostalgia, part convenience, and part Fate.’

  Blair’s eyes narrowed, his smile widening. ‘Fate and nostalgia I can understand, but I wouldn’t have thought a drive from the Sunshine Coast to here too convenient.’

  ‘Convenient in so much as I was keen to do a little reminiscing and I thought I could do that between sittings.’ For a person who prided herself on honesty, Ava was surprised at how easily her lies had formed. For the first time in her life she felt manipulative and decided to blame Marjorie Tate for teaching her how. ‘The older one gets, Blair, the more one focuses on the time one has left. Understandable, I suppose, but I’d rather focus on the life I’ve lived, and Candlebark Creek is a small part of that.’

  ‘Did you live in town for long?’

  Ava didn’t want to delve into her history or lie to Blair any more than she had to. ‘Briefly. I worked at the local hotel and then I left. I was, after all, only passing through on my way to France.’ She sent a smile Blair’s way, draped the cardigan around her shoulders and checked her handbag for the car keys.

  ‘From Candlebark Creek pub to Le Cordon Bleu and back again, Ava? You’re quickly becoming the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met.’

  ‘I’ll take that as another compliment. Now, jot down any menu ideas, and dare I say let’s meat later to talk cakes, sliders and finger sandwiches?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I need to collect my bag from the Moo-tel, so I’d better get going.’

  ‘Never worry about being late around my dad. Once he starts painting he loses all concept of time – and didn’t that drive my mother crazy! We’ll catch up later for sure, Ava. And good luck.’

  Chapter 28

  Kodak Moments

  Ava walked along Ivy-May’s weed-infested pathway, the result of her quick shopping trip weighing her down even before she tackled the staircase leading to the door of the homestead. Thirty years ago Ava had taken the same twelve steps two at a time and without her pulse racing. With a deep breath, she fixed a determined chin, then let the tarnished brass knocker fall three times.

  ‘Hello, again.’ She smiled as the door opened wide.

  ‘You came back. Something told me you would. Best come in.’ John stepped aside, glancing at the wrist bearing a gold watch. ‘I did think you’d arrive earlier.’

  Had he been waiting for her? Did Ava dare hope he’d been eagerly anticipating her return? He had shaved and tamed the mess of curls Ava had loved. Surely not hair product! She tried not to smile. Yesterday’s baggy track pants and T-shirt were replaced by blue jeans, a plaited leather belt, and a white and mint-striped shirt, open at the neck. Although broad in the shoulders and still muscular, his frame was slender and his face a little gaunt. But thirty years was a long time. Some people Ava would pass in the street after only ten and not recognise them, but she’d have no trouble spotting John anywhere, especially when he smiled like he was now.

  ‘Welcome again, Mrs Marchette, and I’m sorry.’ His expression shifted to sheepish. ‘I’m afraid I’ve forgotten. A habit of mine – forgetting, I mean, always the important things, like names, and always at the most inconvenient time.’

  ‘Ava.’ She decided to ignore that he’d also forgotten she was Ms, not Mrs.

  Correcting him was hardly an auspicious beginning. Anyway, people referred to her as Mrs Marchette all the time, as though every woman of her generation was married, or had been. She never corrected them, although she did find opportunities to flash a left hand devoid of rings. Hearing John refer to her as a Mrs made her feel like the middle-aged woman she was, when she wanted to feel young and in love again. Ava longed to relive that giddiness when the slightest touch of a hand was like throwing a pebble and having the ripples reach out to every
part of her body. Ava used the back of a chair to brace herself against the surge.

  ‘I’ve been trying to tell you, Mrs Marchette, that simply the idea of sitting for a portrait can be daunting.’

  Ava would not be perturbed. Her gaze swept over the multiple easels and art paraphernalia scattered around the room. ‘I suggest what’s more overwhelming are too many front steps followed by the strong smell of paint and turpentine in this room, but as I said yesterday—’

  ‘I know, I know.’ John raised both hands in a kind of surrender before taking the shopping bag from Ava. ‘You are neither feeble nor frail, nor one who gives up easily. That much I do remember and I have an idea. Come this way.’

  Ava knew her way around Ivy-May perfectly well. She’d crept around this lounge room late at night plenty of times, and kissed John in every one of the Queenslander’s nooks and crannies, but she was feeling shaky with his hand cupping her elbow, and more than a little nettled that he saw the need to help her negotiate the two steps down to the pretty sunroom.

  Ava didn’t know if it was the sight of the main kitchen where she’d spent so much time or how different it looked, awash with morning sunshine, that made her breath catch. She certainly was conscious of the ripples radiating along her spine, reminding her that it had been some time since she’d felt the soft touch of a man’s hand on her skin.

  ‘The light’s good in here and there’s fresh air.’

  The first thing Ava noticed was that the trees Marjorie had planted for privacy were thirty years taller and the shrubbery so dense the cottage and creek below were all but hidden from view.

  ‘This room… It’s so different,’ she said.

  ‘Different?’ John eyed her. ‘From what?’

  ‘Oh, ah, I meant as in contrast. The dark wood panelling is a lovely contrast to the blue. Wood is warm and homey, don’t you think?’

  She’d always liked the stained timber that lined the lower part of the dining-room wall, but rather than the old-fashioned flowery wallpaper, a soft Wedgwood blue paint with white trim stretched to the ceiling cornices. At one end she saw the Australian colonial-style sideboard made from ironbark wood. The long low-line unit still sat there commandingly, still in good condition. It would last several more generations. At the centre was the matching banquet table, big enough to accommodate twelve guests. The single slab with its rustic edges had come from a tree John’s ancestors had felled when clearing the land.

 

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