by Jennie Jones
‘Let’s listen to what Josh has to say,’ Daniel said, both hands raised, obviously trying to temper the reactions of the people in front of him, who were talking over each other, agitated, as though attempting to get their own opinion aired before someone else butted in.
‘What kind of mood is he in, Josh?’ Ethan stood between Josh and Daniel, his son in his arms.
Josh hooked his thumbs into the belt loops on his dark blue jeans. He had his shirt tucked neatly into the waistband and he wore a good leather belt. He’d been polite the two times Charlotte had met him and hadn’t come to any of the meetings or mentioned anything about colour schemes.
The Tillman twins were next to him, staring, arms folded as though waiting for him to make a mistake. During one of their rare keen-to-chat moments, they’d cornered Charlotte inside the stock feeders’ and spoken of Josh and their utter disappointment in him. Apparently he used to be a cool-dude type in his younger days but was growing more urbane and detached than either twin appreciated. Charlotte suspected it was more a case of the tall young man standing next to Ethan not being particularly interested in the retro-style attractions either of the twins offered. She couldn’t say the same for the grinning, sporty-looking blonde teenager who stood the other side of him. Gemma Munroe, the toy shop owner’s daughter. She opened the shop for a few hours at the weekends.
Josh cleared his throat and stepped away from the twins. He bumped Gemma’s shoulder, turned and apologised. She smirked up at him, made a quick remark and nudged him in the chest. Josh paused, then faced the town.
Despite her reticence about doing so, Charlotte stepped forwards in order to hear better.
‘He’s getting tetchy in the hospital,’ Josh said. ‘Told me he’d be mighty pleased if some schmuck from town could go get him sometime soon.’
Ethan laughed and Lachlan put his hand on his face and smiled. Ethan covered the boy’s hand with his own and planted a kiss on his sandy-coloured head, settling him against his shoulder: a picture-perfect show of unconditional love in the midst of a raucous mob, who also seemed to love them without reservation. A satisfying scene to view, if you were involved and included.
Charlotte was overcome with a memory of her gran loving her, guiding her and giving her strength until she wasn’t able to do so any longer. Even now, Charlotte felt their connection, like an aura that descended from above and gently surrounded her.
She caught Daniel’s eye.
He nodded down at Lucy, who still had her rump nestled on his foot, and winked at Charlotte, his grin so smug she nearly laughed. She gave him a rueful smile instead, but genuine amusement prodded the surface of it. She’d caught up with Lucy yesterday where Dan said she would, coming out of the back alley behind Kookaburra’s. She had a note tucked in to her collar: I don’t serve dogs not on a lead.
Charlotte couldn’t remember what a chuckle was, let alone a guffaw, but his note had made her laugh harder than she had in years. She hadn’t even giggled for over nine months. Sometimes that charm of his worked, and she admitted to a niggling doubt that he turned it on purposefully.
‘Grandy said he doesn’t want any fuss for his birthday either,’ Josh said to Ethan, bringing Charlotte out of her thoughts.
‘Damn.’
‘Damn,’ Lochie parroted.
Ethan smiled an apology at the group and swung his son to his other arm.
‘If we tell him about the party, he might have a real heart attack,’ Mrs Tam said.
Sounded to Charlotte like the man in question was too bullheaded for that.
‘Ted’s got the new bunting,’ Grace said. ‘We’ve got to have the party, he was stringing it up in the Town Hall all weekend.’
Charlotte ran her gaze over the mob, then checked herself. Referring to them as a mob sounded uncouth and impolite, even in her head.
‘Hi.’ Julia Morelly edged back from the group and made her way to Charlotte’s side, pulling her empty stroller with her.
‘Hello,’ Charlotte said. ‘It’s Julia, yes? You own the beauty parlour.’
The sleek blonde nodded and gave Charlotte what she could only describe as a ‘once over’.
‘Fantastic hair,’ Julia said.
‘Thank you.’
‘Too many muted tones though.’ Julia indicated Charlotte’s grey sweatshirt, tied around her waist and hanging over her black Lycra running shorts. ‘Let’s grab one of Kookaburra’s coffees and discuss things at the La Crème Parfaite one morning.’
‘Love to.’ Charlotte wasn’t sure about being undressed and re-styled, if that’s what Julia wanted to do but the coffee part sounded good, as did a morning chat with Julia. ‘Good name, by the way—for your business.’
Julia laughed. ‘Named it in a fit of pique. Probably should change it.’
The name suited the business and the person who ran it. Charlotte would be disappointed if it was changed to something dull like Julia’s Place or Snip ’n’ Shimmer.
‘Here.’ Julia flipped her contemporary and sophisticated pinstripe suit jacket to one side and dug into the pocket of her matching pencil skirt. The only incompatible thing about her up-to-date ensemble was the pair of bright white slip-on sneakers. ‘My business card and a list of treatments.’ She nodded behind Charlotte to where her parlour was all locked up. ‘Only open when I’m called these days.’
‘Told you Julia would want to get her hands on you.’
Charlotte stepped back to allow Daniel to join them. It wasn’t Julia’s hands he made her think about though, it was his. The palm of his hand had scorched her skin yesterday when he’d rubbed the spot where his grip had hardened. So close to him now, she almost felt the heat flare up again. She pulled at her running vest, then realised she’d exposed too much cleavage. She tweaked the scooped neckline an inch. Then another. ‘It’s warm,’ she said, fanning her face with her hand when she noticed Daniel watching every move her hands made. ‘Been running.’ That should excuse any additional pink tones on her skin.
Daniel leaned in slightly, cloaking her with his now recognisable fragrance of melon, sandalwood and coffee berries. ‘How many K’s did you sprint?’ he whispered.
‘None of your business.’
‘I’m guessing two.’
How did he know that? Charlotte put Julia’s card in the change pouch of her shorts and looked back at the group outside the hardware store, who were still discussing a party. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Grandy’s coming home from the hospital in Cooma,’ Julia said.
‘And Ted’s about to disappear.’
Charlotte stifled a smile. Up in a puff of smoke hopefully. ‘Where is Ted?’
‘Grace put him to bed and locked the door.’
‘He’s ill?’
Julia laughed. ‘Sort of, bless him. It’s bad timing though, because he’s in charge of organising Grandy’s ninety-fifth birthday party.’
‘Grandy dislocated his collar bone trying to trim the wisteria on his house.’ Daniel indicated the way Charlotte had run into town. ‘He lives just out of town.’
Charlotte had thought the farmhouse on the southern outskirts of town, tucked back from the road but only a five-minute walk away, just one more empty, probably neglected, house. Pretty it was, too. Charlotte had stopped her run to take a surreptitious look from the roadside. The place was quiet, with an empty, lost feel, so she’d snuck down the driveway a dozen or so metres and taken a look. It wasn’t fancy or grand but the single-storey house, the gardens and driveway were exceptionally well kept. The wisteria was thick and rambunctious, still blooming with its pink flowers and practically covering the front of the house, apart from where the windows poked through. The paddocks to the back meandered as far as the eye could see, all the way towards All Seasons Road and the craft centre Josh ran for the Grangers, maybe as far as Sammy and Ethan’s homestead.
‘Trouble was,’ Julia said, ‘Grandy was halfway up a twenty-foot ladder at the time. His foot slipped off the rung and he tumbled to the
ground. He didn’t tell anyone for three days—thought he’d pulled a muscle.’
‘Is that why he’s in hospital?’
‘No,’ Julia said, ‘he caught a chill. Turned into pneumonia the next week, but we didn’t know that. Coupled with his bad arm going numb, we thought he was having a heart attack.’
‘Why didn’t he go to the doctor?’
‘Doc only visits once a month,’ Daniel said.
Charlotte hadn’t considered the things the town lacked. There wasn’t a police station either. Even the library was mobile—only calling in once a fortnight. ‘I hadn’t thought …’ she said by way of an apology. ‘How difficult.’
‘We called the Community First Responders unit,’ Daniel continued. ‘Because we thought it was his heart, they called for an urgent response, and the helicopter took him to the hospital.’ He folded his arms across his chest, which only sent Charlotte’s gaze firmly to his upper torso and his fanned pectoral muscles. He wore a white T-shirt today, tucked into his pale blue jeans. ‘You’ll soon get a heads-up on how things work. We don’t have much. Too small. In fact we’re pretty much forgotten.’ It didn’t seem to worry him—or Julia.
‘Grandy’s peed off,’ Julia said. ‘Hates being away from his farm—not that he does any farming any more, but he loves his house and his land.’
‘Sounds like a strong-minded man.’
Julia laughed. ‘I should know: he’s my grandfather. Now we’re trying to figure out where to put him. We don’t want him living on his own and he won’t come and live with me and my dad—’ she nodded at Junior Morelly, ‘—because he says it’s too far out of town. He’s planning on putting a camp bed in the hardware store and living there if we won’t let him live in his own house.’
‘He’s certainly drawn quite a crowd,’ Charlotte muttered, and immediately shifted her gaze to Julia, hoping she wouldn’t take that as a barbed remark.
Julia smirked. ‘Bigger crowd than has ever been over at your place, huh?’
Charlotte gave a half-grimace, half-smile. ‘Sorry about that. I’m a little touchy these days where crowds are concerned.’ She felt Daniel’s attention rest on her.
‘Not surprised. Don’t worry about it.’ Julia shrugged it off.
‘Well, this isn’t getting anything sorted fast,’ Mrs J said.
Julia and Daniel returned their concentration to the group.
‘He’ll insist on staying in his own home,’ Daniel said. ‘We know that. What we have to do is find him a housekeeper.’
‘He won’t have anyone live in with him,’ Grace said.
Charlotte took a half-step towards Julia. ‘He wouldn’t object to someone doing his washing and cooking though, would he?’ she asked quietly. ‘Maybe popping in now and again to check on him?’
Julia leaned Charlotte’s way. ‘Yes, he would. Stubborn old coot.’
Stubborn maybe, but obviously well regarded—and loved.
‘So we put in some amenities,’ Daniel said. ‘Safety rails and the like. Get him one of those lift-up armchairs, so he feels he’s still got his independence. Then we sneak up on him and do what we need to do anyway.’
‘Like what?’ Josh asked.
‘Like hiding his twenty-foot ladder for a start.’
‘Like his washing,’ Grace said. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘My Lily could cook for him,’ Mrs J said. ‘Nothing wrong with a few frozen meals so long as they’re home cooked.’
‘He’s good with the microwave,’ Junior said. ‘But he does like a fried egg sandwich.’
‘I’d be ever so worried about him forgetting to switch the gas stove off,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘Or the heater. I have trouble remembering those things myself and I’m thirty years younger than him.’
‘Whoa!’ Daniel stepped away from Charlotte and Julia, inserting himself into the group with ease. He had both hands raised but he was smiling. ‘Give him a chance. He’s got his eyesight, his hearing and his common sense.’
And he had the town, Charlotte thought. The old man had obviously run the town most of his life, given the concern about his imminent return. They were at his back, looking out for him and willing to give up their own time to care for him—albeit behind his back.
Understanding hit her where it mattered—her heart. She’d looked after her gran for two years before she’d died, but she hadn’t been alone. All Olivia’s friends—aged from fourteen to eighty— had helped. They’d cared for Gran while Charlotte worked the B&B, keeping her entertained by reading aloud, or pushing her in her wheelchair around the park and letting her watch the lawn bowls. Gran had had many people at her back too.
‘I’ll re-do the bathroom for him,’ Josh said.
Ethan nodded. ‘I hoped you’d say that. I’ll help you with it where I can.’
‘Me too,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll draw up the plans. Between us we can get whatever’s needed at wholesale price.’
Ethan shifted Lochie in his arms. ‘All we have to do now is figure out where he can stay until all this is done.’
‘He can stay at my B&B.’
Silence struck—Charlotte had never experienced such excruciating quiet.
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Ethan said at last.
He didn’t say any more and nobody else spoke.
Charlotte held her breath. Whatever the reason for her outburst of generosity, she’d made herself responsible for an old man who lived in a pretty farmhouse a five-minute walk from town. She looked at Daniel for some sort of support as her unease increased.
He cleared his throat and walked back to her side. ‘What a generous offer, Charlotte, thank you.’ He held his hand out.
Charlotte slid her fingers into his and shook his hand. He squeezed her hand slightly, a promise things would be okay, but the puzzled look in his mink-brown eyes told her he was questioning her. Why? How could she do any harm to him or the town by looking after an old man?
‘Not sure if Grandy will accept that,’ Mrs J said but didn’t offer any further negativity.
Charlotte looked at Julia, who was looking at Charlotte’s and Daniel’s hands—still bound. She slipped her hand free and instantly missed the reassurance of its strength.
‘He’ll like sitting on the veranda,’ Junior Morelly said contemplatively.
‘What about all the renovating you’re doing at the Cappers’ place?’ Grace asked. ‘He’d be in the way.’
‘My place—and he wouldn’t be in the way.’
‘He won’t be able to manage the stairs,’ Grace said.
‘He can have the ground-floor room. I’ll move upstairs.’
‘Are those rooms ready for use?’ Daniel asked; again, that interrogative look narrowing his gaze.
‘Yes. They’re lovely rooms. They only need cosmetic attention but that can wait.’ Wait? Had she just said that?
‘He’ll enjoy the dog’s company,’ Junior said.
Ethan laughed. ‘He’ll likely enjoy Charlotte’s company too.’
Charlotte smiled at Ethan. Gran hadn’t been alone, not for a minute during the last years of her illness. Grandy shouldn’t be alone either. Not when he was so well loved. Not when Charlotte appeared to be the only person with the means to house him in the centre of town, which was where he wanted to be. She’d enjoy the company in the house herself. Might not feel so outcast and lonely if there was someone to look after and care for.
‘I’d pay you for his board and such,’ Junior Morelly offered.
‘How much would you charge?’ Grace asked.
‘Um …’ Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her. ‘I wouldn’t charge him anything.’
‘That wouldn’t be right,’ Ethan said.
‘I wouldn’t charge,’ she said again, enforcing her point politely. ‘I’d be happy for his company.’
‘Sounds right funny to me,’ Grace said. ‘Not charging. Thought you were planning on running a business.’
‘I’m not open for business yet.’ Neither would she ever be.
‘But I’d like to show some goodwill.’
‘Like a gesture?’ Mrs J asked.
Charlotte jumped on that. ‘Yes.’ That’s what Daniel had suggested she do—offer them a gesture. She turned to the group. ‘I’d be delighted to have Grandy stay at the B&B.’ Maybe delighted was the wrong word but if it meant her offer hastened the approval of her renovation ideas, she was all for taking it on.
The ensuing silence sparked a new anxiety. If they refused her offer, she’d be left feeling less welcome than she had since her arrival. Which was infuriating, given that she wasn’t supposed to care.
Eight
SMALL BUSINESS OWNER BEATS MULTINATIONAL HOTELIERS FORSTERS AT THEIR OWN GAME
Dan rolled his chair closer to the desk and his laptop and skimmed the British newspaper article, surprised he’d found something about Charlotte so soon.
The buyout turned into a battle as 29-year-old Australian-born Charlotte Simmons …
Australian born? He shifted the lid of the laptop until the early morning light from his bedroom window didn’t reflect on the screen so much and went back to the start of the column.
Charlotte Simmons could not have saved her childhood home and thriving B&B business from the big guns, but she gave as good as she got and gridlocked construction of a seventy-room hotel and golfing resort, costing Forsters hundreds of thousands of pounds. Miss Simmons’ tenacity must have surprised the Forsters executives and their lawyers during their bid to purchase her quarter-acre property in Lower Starfoot-in-the-Forest, near Harrogate, Yorkshire, to add to the land already in their possession.
Dan grinned as a vision of Red staring down Forsters executives came quickly to mind. He wouldn’t want to be too close to the heat of that bonfire.
Miss Simmons met with Forsters at the British multinational’s company headquarters in Surrey this week and walked away with three times what her property and its future livelihood was worth.