“Where’s Amy?” she looked behind him in case the pretty young lady was lurking back there.
“Amy? She’s at work.”
“Work?”
“One of us had to hold down the fort. Not that she’d be any good in an actual emergency; the woman spends more time on the phone to friends than anything else.” He sighed. “I know I’m going to have let her go, but ‘m a bit chicken when it comes down to actually doing it.”
“She works for you?”
“Yes, the new surgery receptionist. The old one retired.”
Maggie bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud with relief.
Jack noticed. “Wait, did you think -?”
And Maggie couldn’t deny it so she turned and busied herself with the sandwiches instead.
“Well well,” he moved beside her to lean against the bench and cross his arms over his chest. “So you thought Amy and I were an item. That’s why you acted like a mad woman at the carol singing – you were jealous.”
“I was not,” Maggie protested, but her flushed cheeks said otherwise.
“I guess this means you don’t hate me after all.”
“I already told you I don’t hate you. Hate is a strong word and I prefer not to use it unless absolutely necessary.”
“You don’t hate anyone?”
She pretended to think. “I’m not overly fond of the tax department taking a huge chunk of my earnings but still, I probably wouldn’t say I hate them.”
“So you like me.”
“You could say that.”
“Even,” his tone turned serious, “after all the things I said to you. I was way out of line and I want to apologise.”
“No, you were spot on. Not with everything, but most of what you said.” She sighed dramatically. “I suppose I owe you a thank you.”
He pretended to clutch his chest in shock. “Wait, am I correct in thinking that not only are you admitting that I was right about something, but you’re also thanking me? Without being prompted?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He held up his hands. “Oh I won’t, believe me. I’m well aware you could flip and start telling me off again at any moment.”
She poked him in the chest indignantly and he laughed, grabbing her hands and holding them hostage.
“Maggie where are those sandwiches? We’ve run out of sausage rolls and – oh.” Dot stopped. “Hello Jack,” she said. “Nice of you to come today.”
“Hi Dot,” Jack pushed off the bench and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It was the least I could do. I wanted to show my support for you all.”
“I’m sure Maggie appreciates it.”
“Here are the sandwiches mum,” Maggie passed over the plate she’d arranged. “That’s the last of them though. After this there’s only the egg salad that Arihana brought with her, if anyone wants some of that.”
“I’m not serving her salad. Knowing her there’s half a cup of curry powder in it. She’s never understood that the rest of us don’t have a cast iron gut like she does. Honestly, the last time Ray ate some of her egg salad he damn near sh-” she stopped suddenly as she realised where she was and who she was talking to. “Well, I don’t suppose we all need to know what happened next. It’s bad enough I do.”
“No mum, we really don’t need to know.”
“Actually I’m kind of curious,” Jack deadpanned.
“Don’t be so gross,” Maggie elbowed him.
“Honey, can I have a quick word in the other room please?”
“Sure mum,” Maggie wiped her hands on a tea towel and followed her mother out to the bottom of the stairs. “What’s up?”
“You know I like Jack, and you know what I think about the two of you together, yes?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just that now might not be the most appropriate time.”
“For what?”
“To you know, be seen flirting with each other.”
“What are you on about? We’re just talking.”
“I know that, but others might not realise it’s as innocent as that. Just with it being the day of your husband’s funeral you might want to mingle with some of the other people here.”
“I wasn’t flirting for gods’ sakes. And Jon hasn’t been my husband in any sense of the word for a very long time.”
“Sweetheart, I know that, but the chemistry between you two is pretty obvious, even to your father who’s clueless when it comes to such things. People are noticing.”
“Since when have you cared what people think?”
“Oh honey you know I don’t care. I’m just worried that you might care. Or that someone might say something stupid that might upset Willow.”
She had Maggie there. Even though she was doing nothing wrong, she could see how it might appear to others. “Ok,” she said. “Ok I get it.” She smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her hair. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m sick of the sight of people today. How small minded of people to think I would be so shallow? I’m not looking to jump into bed with anyone, and certainly not Jack Cartwright.”
“I should get going,” Jack said from the archway behind her. Maggie spun around.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t eavesdropping, just thought I’d better get back to the surgery and make sure Amy hasn’t burnt it to the ground or lost an animal or something stupid like that.”
Dot shuddered at the mention of fire.
His tone had switched from earlier in the kitchen; then it had been playful, now it was serious.
“Thanks again for coming.” Maggie knew he had heard what she’d said, hence the change in his manner, and she felt awful but unable to backtrack or bring the subject up again with her mother in earshot.
“You’re welcome. Obviously I didn’t know your husband, but I’m sure he would have been proud of the send off you’ve given him.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Maggie said, walking through to the lounge towards him, but Jack shook his head dismissively and backed away.
“There’s really no need. You have other guests more deserving of your attention.” Then he nodded slightly and left, striding across the room through the throng of people without a backwards glance.
Maggie felt an overwhelming urge to run after him, to explain that she’d just been angry when she said that last comment, but she could feel eyes upon her so she straightened her shoulders and turned to the room instead.
“Happy now?” she spoke to no one in particular, and the people nearest averted their eyes.
“Who are you talking to?” Willow came up beside her.
“No one sweetheart. Have you had something to eat?”
“Yep. Arihana keeps trying to get me to try her egg salad, but I remember what happened that time granddad ate it so there’s no way I’m going near it.”
“Sensible girl.”
“Can I go play outside with Nick now?”
Maggie looked her daughter up and down. Dot had taken her shopping for something to wear for the funeral, as Willow’s wardrobe consisted mostly of torn shorts and t-shirts. Maggie had been surprised with the result when Willow emerged downstairs that morning.
“Ok what gives?” she’d asked Dot quietly.
“What?”
“How much did you have to pay her to get her to wear that?”
Dot looked at her granddaughter proudly. “Not a cent. In fact she chose most of it herself.”
Maggie didn’t believe her. Willow was wearing black tights, a neat little knee length pleated black skirt and a pretty little black three quarter length sleeve shirt, with ribbons that tied in the back and an embroidered lace collar. On top of that, she was wearing her hair in a long tidy plait, and, as far as Maggie could tell, she’d even polished her shoes. It was so far removed from anything her daughter had ever let herself be dressed in that Maggie
couldn’t accept it was by choice.
“Come on now,” she’d said sceptically to Dot, “you must have promised her something.”
“No.”
But Maggie remained unconvinced. Ah well, the truth will come out later, she had thought. It always does.
“Sure you can go and play,” she said, “but change out of those clothes first.”
“Oh thank god. I’ve been feeling like a bloody boarding school freak all day.” Willow darted off in the direction of the stairs and Maggie frowned. Definitely something must have been promised in order to get her daughter to wear those clothes. She would get to the bottom of it later.
“Don’t swear,” she called after her daughter.
Chapter twenty one
As soon as Maggie opened her eyes it hit her; tomorrow was Christmas Eve.
Normally the very thought would send her groaning back under the covers, but not anymore. The ghosts of Christmases past had been banished. There was no need for her to spend the day wallowing under a big black cloud of dark memories.
Yes, Jon had left her and Willow on Christmas Eve. But he’d intended on coming back, that much she was sure of now. And whether or not the marriage would have lasted, he would have been around for his daughter, she was also sure of that.
Humming the song White Christmas she threw back the covers and after a few stretches, she took an unreasonably long shower using her lemon soap to enhance her new zest for life and the holiday season in general. Even though it was Christmas and a certain degree of excitement was inevitable, she felt it was more than just that brewing inside of her. There was something else in the air. She could sense it and occasionally she nearly caught a glimpse of it but when she turned her head quickly it was gone, dancing out of sight. She felt something she hadn’t felt in years; girlish glee, and she couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead. Not just today or tomorrow, but next week and next month. Everything seemed open and endless, and absolutely anything seemed possible.
It was like the feeling you get when you’re a child on Christmas Eve and before you get tucked up in your cosy bed you admire the lights twinkling on the tree and the angel beaming down at you from the top, and you know that the next time you see that tree there’s going to be presents stacked underneath it, a lot of them with your name on. Or that goodwill feeling that floods you when you know that you have your family around for you for the foreseeable future; that no one needs to dash off to work or to school. That you’re all together and you have day upon day of summer stretching out ahead with nothing but sunshine and plenty of food and the occasional game of backyard cricket. The feeling you get when life seems effortlessly easy and infinitely enchanting.
That was the feeling she had. And she couldn’t wait to see her family and feel the warmth that accumulates any time you have people who love each other, all together in the same room.
She left her damp hair loose and threw on a short summery dress. Her legs, she was pleased to notice, were already lightly tanned from the days spent collecting flowers, leaves and bark for her soaps.
She wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting when she walked out in to the kitchen, but it certainly wasn’t the silence that greeted her. Puzzled, she checked the clock in case she had woken early. But no, it was a little after eight. Everyone was normally well up by now and the kitchen a hive of activity.
Her mother would normally have been preparing breakfast, or food for Christmas day. Her father should have been parked behind his paper, only his fingers on each side and the top of his head visible. Willow tended to be seated at the table fidgeting, either eating too fast or complaining that the food was taking too long and that she had places to go and things to do.
But the table was empty and the kitchen completely void of cooking sounds and smells.
“That’s strange,” Maggie said aloud. She went back out to the bottom of the stairs and called up, “Willow? Are you up there?”
She waited but there was no answer and not a sound from above.
“Mum? Dad?” she called.
But again there was no answer. Thinking perhaps they were playing a game she tip toed up the stairs and burst into her daughters room. “Aha!” she said. But the room was empty, and more alarmingly, the bed was made. Now Maggie really started to worry. Her daughter never made her bed without someone nagging her to do it first. She crossed the hall quickly to her parents’ room but it was also empty. Her parents slept in matching single beds which were separated by a space of half a metre. They’d been like that for the last ten years, since Dot declared she’d had enough of being kept awake by Ray’s constant tossing and turning. This way, they were still in the same room but each slept soundly, and if they needed some private time then they just pushed the beds together. Normally Maggie avoided looking in there because she really didn’t need to know when her parents had been, getting busy, as Ray termed it.
But everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. Her mother’s bed was neatly made and her father’s was a mess of scrunched up sheets and blankets.
She went back downstairs and into the kitchen. She had started to feel a little uneasy, and if this was some kind of game she wanted it over with now. Dishes were drying in the dish rack, so someone had been up and eaten a meal. There was no note on the fridge, where they usually left messages for each other. She picked up the phone and dialled Nick’s house. His mother answered.
“Hi Kate,” Maggie said, “I’m sorry to call so early.”
“Early?” Kate laughed, “It’s nearly noon by farming standards.”
“Oh of course.”
Kate sensed something in Maggie’s voice when she didn’t join in the laughter.
“Everything ok Maggie?” she asked. “I mean, apart from the obvious. That was a really nice service you gave yesterday by the way. Really nice.”
“Thanks Kate. Have you seen Willow? Is she with Nick?”
“No I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her today.”
“Can you ask Nick if he’s heard from her please?”
“Sure, hang on,” Kate yelled out for him and then Maggie could hear them talking. She came back on the line after a minute. “No Maggie, sorry. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday. Said they made loose plans to catch up later today but nothing concrete. He was going to call her after breakfast. Hang on a sec,” her voice got muffled again. “What? No you idiot, she’s not there, that’s why I asked you if you’d seen her.” She spoke into the receiver again, “Sorry Maggie, Nick wanted to know if he could speak to Willow. Honestly that boy, sometimes I worry he’s too much like his father, bless his simple soul.”
“Thanks Kate. If you see her can you let me know?”
“Of course. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Oh I’m sure too. I’d just like to know where she is. Call me overprotective,” she joked feebly.
“I understand completely and I’ll call you straight away if we see her.”
Maggie hung up the phone and walked to the front door. She could see no one up the driveway, not a soul in sight anywhere. She had to fight a horrible feeling that she was left alone in the world.
“Don’t be silly,” she told herself, “you just spoke to Kate on the phone.”
All the same, she went back to her room to get a cardigan. Suddenly the summer’s day felt colder. While she was in her room she heard a noise at the back door and with relief she ran out to the kitchen.
“There you are! You guys had me worried for a minute.”
“Morning sugar,” her dad kissed her on the cheek and threw his newspaper down on the table.
Maggie looked behind him but he was alone.
“You couldn’t rustle me up some brekkie could you sweetheart?” he asked, “and a tea if you’re making yourself one.” He found his glasses on the top of the fridge and sat down at the table, shaking out the paper in front of him. He started to read.
Maggie walked to the bench and flicked the switch to boil the jug. “Mum didn’t cook y
ou any?”
“No, they left too early for me. I was still in the land of nod.”
Maggie turned, her eyes narrowed. “When who left early dad?”
He froze and ignored the question.
“Dad, when who left? Where is Willow?”
“Mmm?”
“Dad!” she marched over and smacked the paper out of his hands down onto the table.
“I knew I’d be the one left to suffer,” he complained. “That damn woman.”
“Where are they?”
“Your mother took Willow up bush this morning.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“She took my baby girl to her stupid cave?” Maggie was furious. “Just the two of them or have the others gone as well?”
“They’ve all gone.”
“This is too much, she’s gone too far this time! How dare she take Willow without talking to me about it? And right before Christmas as well?”
“Whoa settle down. It’s just for one night, and she had her reasons. They’ll be back tomorrow before you know it.”
“I should call the cops on her and have her charged with kidnapping.”
“Who, Geoffrey? What’s he going to do, fart on her?” Ray sniggered.
“It’s not funny dad. She can’t just take my daughter away without discussing it with me first.”
“Relax, she’ll -”
“Don’t tell me to relax!”
“Well don’t scream at me then!”
‘I’m not screaming. Trust me, when she gets home, then you’re going to hear some screaming.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit?”
“I’m not overreacting, she’s my daughter.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because your mother would lay down her life to protect that kid, and you know it.”
That shut Maggie up. He was right. Her mother loved Willow as much as she did and would never do anything to harm her. Still, she should never have taken her away without talking to Maggie about it first. Would she have given her permission? No, probably not. Which was the reason, she suspected, for the cloak and dagger departure under the cover of dawn. But why had she chosen to go so close to Christmas? This was a time for families to be together, not spread all over the countryside. She felt some of her earlier excitement desert her.
A Roast on Sunday Page 16