Call Waiting

by Dianne Blacklock

  Ally despondently turned the key in the lock and pushed the front door open. It usually shuddered, but today it swung back smoothly. She peered across the dim living room. It had a low ceiling, and heavy dark wooden beams to support the loft above.

  “Something looks different,” she murmured.

  She walked through to the dining area, where the loft ended, and the room opened up to the roof. Ally stared at the stairs to the loft. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “Hey, this all looks new,” said Nic, who had followed her in, carrying a tub of flowers.

  Ally looked at her, then back at the staircase, all straight, wide and even. Not a tree branch in sight.

  “Ally?” Nic said warily. “Did Matt do this?”

  “I guess,” she swallowed.

  Nic’s face broke into a broad grin. “You are in such deep shit!”

  Ally groaned.

  “Off to the kitchen with you, and start making some humble pie.”

  “The kitchen,” Ally said weakly, walking to the doorway. She wasn’t even surprised to see the bright new benchtops in place, completely revamping the whole room.

  “Was I very rude?” Ally cringed.

  “Rude? That’s putting it mildly,” said Nic, rolling her eyes. “Try obnoxious, offensive and insulting. Oh, and pushy, you were definitely pushy.”

  Ally collapsed on a nearby stool. “Well, he should have said something.”

  “You didn’t give him much of a chance!”

  “What am I going to do?” she moaned. “I have to go and apologize.”

  “Look, we’ve still got to tart up the place. Go and see him on the way home. He might have cooled down by then, and you never know, he may even forgive you!”

  * * *

  A few hours later Ally was doing a final check around while Nic closed all the windows.

  “Well, there’s nothing more we can do here. It’s in the lap of the gods now,” Ally remarked.

  “I like the place,” said Nic. “And what with that beautiful new staircase—”

  “Oh, okay! You don’t have to rub it in.”

  They had placed vases of flowers in every room, and covered the battered dining table with a damask cloth. A couple of the worst chairs were banished to the shed, along with anything else that was broken, stained, or otherwise just plain ugly. And they had scrubbed, cleaned and dusted the place to within an inch of its life.

  “Thanks, Nic, I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

  “Of course you could have, it just would have taken you twice as long. It’s Matt you have to thank.”

  “I know, I know,” she sighed. “Come on, we’d better get going before I chicken out.”

  Nic had brought her belongings with her so that Ally could drop her off at Rob’s on the way back. She said she would have invited Ally in to see the place, but they might not all fit at the same time. Rob came out to the car to give Ally directions to Matt’s, after Nic had taken great delight in relaying the story to him.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her, Ally.” Rob smiled, leaning in the window of her car. “I try not to.”

  “I heard that, Robert Grady,” Nic said from the footpath.

  He placed a consoling hand on Ally’s arm. “You’ll be alright. Matt’s a nice guy.”

  That only made her feel worse, Ally thought, as she drove off toward Avoca. All those years of hardly saying “boo” to Bryce, and here she was telling Matt off when he had been nothing but decent to her. She had saved a large bunch of flowers for him, as a kind of peace offering. She hoped it wouldn’t look silly, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Men have it so much easier in the ‘apology’ gift-giving department,” Nic had said. “Which is just as well, they usually have to do it more often.”

  Ally found the entrance to Matt’s property easily. Rob had given her good directions, but it wasn’t as out of the way as Ally had imagined. After closing the gate behind her, she drove along an unsealed driveway edged with wattles. It dipped a little, crossing a tiny stream. She wondered if he ever got rained in here, and she had a sinking feeling. That comparison with her grandfather was never far from her mind, especially now as she neared the house. There was a small grove of trees ahead, and as she rounded them the house came into view.

  Ally was surprised. Set on the crest of the hill was a neat timber cottage with a steep corrugated-iron roof and two dormer windows facing north. A deep verandah wrapped around three sides of the building. The front of the house seemed to be almost all windows, looking out to a valley that dropped away gently at first, then steeply down a ravine.

  Ally could see someone moving around inside. Bugger, she’d forgotten about Miss Queensland. What if she was here? That would be just too embarrassing. But Ally couldn’t do anything about it now. Her car was in plain view from the inside of the house. There was nothing to do but stay calm, give him her thanks and the flowers, and then get away as fast as she could.

  The front door opened as Ally stepped onto the wide timber stairs leading to the verandah.

  “Hello,” said a female voice, a very young female voice, Ally realized. She took a breath and looked up. She hoped the shock wasn’t registering on her face. The girl standing in the doorway was surely too young to be Miss Queensland. She looked just like Matt: dark hair, olive skin and big, blue eyes.

  “Dad!” she sang out. Ally thought she was going to fall backward down the stairs. She reached gladly for the railing and steadied herself.

  “I’m Rebecca,” the girl said brightly.

  Ally hoped her face was smiling back and not betraying her total bewilderment. “Hello, my name is Ally.”

  Matt appeared behind Rebecca. He just stared at Ally, a slightly bemused frown crossing his face. His eyes flickered to the flowers in her arms. She wished she could dive down into them and disappear, like Alice in Wonderland.

  “I just came from the house, from Circle’s End. I wanted to thank you. And say sorry, and give you these, you know, to say sorry,” she blurted, looking at the flowers. “But I didn’t mean to impose on you and your family. Sorry.”

  “It’s just me and Beck.” Matt’s expression seemed to soften. “Three sorrys in one go. That must be a record,” he smiled.

  She smiled feebly back. Did he say it was just him and Beck?

  “So, you’ve been to the house?”

  “Yes,” Ally roused herself. “I got such a shock, when I saw everything you’d done. I didn’t expect it at all.”

  “So I gathered,” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

  Ally reddened, remembering her outburst. “Sorry. But I don’t understand, when did you get the chance?”

  “Easter. Beck was away, so I had some free time.”

  Ally looked at him, frowning. “It rained all over Easter.”

  He nodded.

  “You didn’t get rained in?”

  He smiled. “Just one night.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh no! I feel so bad about this.”

  Matt shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t make it rain. And besides, it’s probably why I got it all finished.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

  “Wait till you get my bill,” he grinned.

  “It’s not just the money,” Ally said seriously, taking a breath. “No one has ever put themselves out like that before, for me…”

  They stood for a moment looking at each other, not saying anything. Beck glanced at her father, and then at Ally, and then back at her father.

  “Why don’t I put those in water?” she offered, taking the flowers from Ally. “Come inside, Ally.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I should be going.”

  “Do you have to?” Rebecca stood beside her father and Ally thought she saw her elbow him.

  “Come on in, Ally,” he said.

  She didn’t want to be rude, again. “Just for a minute then.”

  Matt stepped back for Ally to pass. Her min
d was working overtime. Did Rebecca live with him? Who was her mother? Were she and Matt ever married? Were they separated now, or divorced? Or maybe she’d died, in some awful tragedy …

  “Dad! Don’t you have any vases?” Rebecca called from the kitchen.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever needed one before.”

  “I didn’t know what else to bring, sorry,” Ally said meekly.

  “Enough with the apologies, Ally.”

  “Well, I’ll bring you down one from Mum’s next time,” Rebecca said, crouching under the cupboards. “You should have at least one vase, it’ll probably be one of your old wedding presents anyway. A crappy one, that Mum would never touch.”

  “Language, Rebecca.”

  So he had been married, and Rebecca obviously didn’t live with him full-time. Matt had crossed to the kitchen and was helping his daughter find something to put the flowers in.

  His daughter. This was one for the books. Ally had to completely revise her Matt Serrano dossier. Not single loner, but divorced (she supposed) father of one teenage girl (or more?) … God, she was getting as bad as Bryce. Next she’d be trying to guess his favorite music.

  She looked around the room. All three walls leading to the verandah were comprised largely of floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass doors. The aspect was superb, especially now, as dusk was falling. There was really just the one main room, and it opened right up to the pitched roof. There was a slow-combustion wood heater in one corner, and two huge rugs on the polished floorboards, marking out the lounge and dining areas. A freestanding bench divided the kitchen from the rest of the room.

  The most prominent feature, apart from the view, was a striking timber staircase. It swept upward in a graceful arc to the loft above the kitchen.

  Ally walked over to it and touched the curved rail. “Did you do this yourself?”

  “Yes, isn’t he clever?” Rebecca said proudly as she placed the flowers on the dining table. “This is the best we could do, I’m afraid. It’s just an old coffee jar.”

  Ally smiled at Rebecca. She was delightful. Ally guessed she was probably around fourteen or fifteen, not any older. She was tall, but she had that slight self-conscious ungainliness that comes with a recent growth spurt.

  Matt was standing in the kitchen, cooking apparently. This was too much—he couldn’t cook as well, surely?

  “Will you be staying for dinner, Ally?” Rebecca asked.

  “Oh no. Really, I should go,” Ally replied, embarrassed. She didn’t want to intrude.

  “I wish you would stay. Dad’s cooking lasagne, and he can only do it in the one size—enough to feed, like, forty people!”

  “It’s my grandmother’s recipe, and she always cooked in bulk. What can I do?”

  “Have you ever thought of halving the ingredients, Dad?” Rebecca suggested, grinning. “You should see him cook spaghetti. He does that by the bucketload.”

  “Well, at least he can cook,” Ally offered.

  “Don’t get too excited. Lasagne and spaghetti is about it.”

  “I can barbecue,” Matt said, defending himself.

  “Dad,” Rebecca said, crossing back to the kitchen. “Anyone can barbecue. That’s why it’s always left to the men.”

  “You’ve been listening to your mother too much.”

  Rebecca grinned. “You know I love you, Dad, despite your shortcomings.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she looked at Ally. “So, will I set three places?”

  “Um…” Ally glanced uncertainly at Matt.

  “She’s the boss,” he shrugged. When Ally didn’t say anything he looked at her directly. “Stay.”

  Rebecca started rummaging in the cutlery drawer.

  “I won’t be a minute,” said Matt. “Then I’ll get you a drink.”

  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Ally smiled. “I love the house, Matt. You did it all yourself?”

  He nodded. “In stages, whenever work was a bit slow. It’s still not finished.”

  Obviously Matt’s idea of “not finished” was light years away from James Tasker’s.

  “Apparently,” Ally told him, “there’s a Chinese proverb that says when you finish your house you die. My grandfather liked to quote that.”

  Matt grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I suppose you get rained in here for days too?”

  He looked nonplussed. “Never. What gave you that idea?”

  “I crossed a stream back on the driveway…” Ally faltered.

  “The water runs away down the valley. Didn’t you notice we’re on a hill here?”

  “Of course, I wasn’t thinking.”

  But she was. Her mind was racing. She was trying to absorb all of this new information. There was much more to Matt than she had realized. Much more than the narrow mold she had slotted him into.

  She wandered around the room. At intervals around the walls there were slim columns of shelves, built in between the windows. They were filled with books.

  “You read?”

  “Mm, since about Year 1,” he said wryly.

  “Oh ha,” she returned. She studied the titles of the books. Just about everything by John Grisham, Tom Clancy, Stephen King. And then there were classics. She pulled out a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.

  “I haven’t read this since I was at school,” she murmured. “Have you read it?”

  Matt looked up. “No, I just keep it for show, makes me look intelligent.”

  Ally leaned against a doorjamb and folded her arms. “You know, you keep surprising me.”

  “I do?”

  She nodded. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, I find out something new.”

  “That’s where we’re different.”

  She looked at him, waiting.

  “I don’t try to figure you out at all.” He turned away and opened the oven door, sliding the tray of lasagne onto a rack and missing entirely the interesting shade of scarlet that flashed across Ally’s face.

  “I’ve finished setting the table,” Rebecca announced. “Dad?” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Can I go on the internet until dinner is ready?”

  “Oh, I get it now.” Matt shook his head. “Ally, I think you’ve been part of a ruse.”

  “Never!” Beck feigned innocence. “I’d love to sit here and talk. But I have to look up something for an assignment, for school. Really!”

  “And I was born yesterday!” Matt said, but he was smiling indulgently at her. He kissed her on the forehead. “Go on, but excuse yourself to the guest you invited.”

  “Don’t mind me,” said Ally. She watched Beck skip off out of the room. “She’s lovely.”

  “Mm. Has me wrapped around her little finger though.”

  “Well, it hasn’t spoilt her.”

  He reached for a bottle from a rack above the kitchen cupboards. “Do you like red wine?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Ally watched him searching in a drawer for the corkscrew. “How often does she stay here?” she asked.

  “Every couple of weekends. And at least some of the holidays. I took her to Queensland back in January.”

  Ally had figured that out by now.

  “How old is she?”

  “Just turned fifteen.” Matt pulled out the cork and opened a cupboard for some glasses.

  “Her mother doesn’t get a look-in.”

  “Sorry?” He turned around.

  “It’s an expression. I mean she looks exactly like you.”

  “Oh, yeah. I think it pisses Sharyn off, actually.”

  “That’s her mother?”

  He nodded, pouring the wine. “Not that there’s bad feeling between us. Not anymore anyway. We get on for Beck’s sake.”

  He handed Ally a glass. “Why don’t we go out onto the verandah? I’ll introduce you to the dogs.”

  “You’ve got dogs!” Ally exclaimed.

  “Yeah, they’re supposed to be guard dogs,” Matt explained as she foll
owed him out through one of the sliding doors. “But they’re usually too busy chasing rabbits down the back of the property to notice anyone coming.”

  He whistled a couple of times. Before long, two lanky Dobermans came running up from the valley and bounded up onto the deck.

  “Settle!” Matt said sternly, but it didn’t have much effect.

  They jostled around Ally, licking her free hand. “Here, hold this,” she said, handing Matt her glass. She bent down and patted the dogs warmly.

  “What are their names?”

  “That’s Sam, and the other one’s Dave.”

  “Sam and Dave?” Ally grinned, looking up at him.

  “Beck named them when she was about six. Dave is after my brother, her favorite uncle. And Sam is after a little boy she had a crush on in kindergarten, though she’ll deny that.”

  The dogs started to calm down, and Matt indicated a couple of chairs where they could sit. One of the dogs rested his head on Ally’s lap.

  “I think Dave likes you.”

  “It’s mutual,” she smiled. She sipped her wine, looking out to the view. “It’s beautiful here.”

  Matt shrugged. “It’s grown on me. I never intended to buy an acreage, but because the land was so steep, it was cheap at the time. It was all I could afford after the divorce settlement.”

  “Do Beck and her mother live in the area?”

  He shook his head. “They live in Sydney, on the north shore.”

  “Is that where you met her?”

  “No, Sharyn and I knew each other since we were kids. We went out together all through our teens, and married when we were barely out of them.”

  “And that’s when you moved to Sydney?”

  He nodded. “Sharyn didn’t want to live in the country anymore.”

  “But I thought you hated the city?”

  “I do.”

  “So why did you go?”

  “A twenty year old girl has got a lot more savvy than a twenty year old guy,” he smiled ruefully. “What did I know? Besides, I loved her. Or I thought I did. Who knows anything when they’re only twenty?”

  “Is that what went wrong? You were too young?”

  Matt looked at her sideways, hesitating.

  “Oh, I’m doing my twenty questions thing again, aren’t I?” she said sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”