Home Truths

by Louise Forster

  ‘There’ll be a shotgun wedding. I’m so jealous.’ Sofie pretended to pout. ‘Was it good? Did he make you scream?’

  ‘I believe I mentioned “Oh God” a few times.’

  ‘Does he have a brother, an uncle — a friend? Hang on, who’s George?’

  ‘George is an enormous bull.’ Jennifer wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulder and led her through to the kitchen. ‘And sorry, no brothers, but I can introduce you to a few firemen.’

  ‘Forget the coffee, this calls for a glass of wine — or two — I want all the details.’

  ‘Where’s Claudia? I’ll go say hello first.’

  ‘Don’t disturb Claud, she’s in the den, finishing off an important essay. I’ll give her a censored version. She deserves nothing less after we filled her head with men crap. First tell me all about Bret, and then I’ll have the spicy stuff, thanks.’

  ‘I’ll get the nibblies, you get the wine.’

  Jennifer was ready to burst with the wonderful news of Calum’s proposal, but wanted the moment to be special. She found nuts and crackers in the pantry and put them on the kitchen table. Sofie poured them each a glass of red. Jennifer took a sip and let the fruity liquid roll over her tongue.

  ‘Hmm…lovely.’

  ‘So, apart from a frolic in the hay, what else did you get up to?’ Sofie searched her face for a clue. ‘C’mon, I know there’s something.’

  Jennifer reached across and held her sister’s hands. She tried an enigmatic smile and for a moment thought she pulled it off, because Sofie simply gazed back.

  ‘This better be good,’ Sofie said. ‘Because despite the look on your face you’re scaring me now.’

  ‘It’s good, very good.’ Jennifer leant closer. ‘Calum asked me to marry him.’

  Sofie squealed. She lunged across the table and hugged Jennifer. ‘Was it only the second day we were here that I said, you’d be married soon?’ she asked.

  ‘Probably. I came so close to stopping along the road on my way home and yelling down the phone — we’re getting married! But then I would’ve missed that look on your face.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you both. He’s divine.’ Sofie dabbed her eyes. ‘Where are you having the ceremony? You have to find a gown, organise flowers and catering, so much to do.’

  ‘Keep your undies on. We haven’t set a date yet, let us get engaged first.’

  ‘You’ll be looking for an engagement ring together,’ Sofie said wistfully.

  ‘Let’s get off the subject of weddings. You’re turning into a mother of the bride.’

  After half a glass, she relayed what had happened on the farm. ‘Killer George is Bret’s pet bull.’

  Sofie blinked away her tears. ‘Bret’s going to be all right, I can feel it in my bones.’

  Jennifer raised her glass. ‘Here’s to you and your bones — and Calum’s too.’

  ‘Chin-chin,’ Sofie said. ‘And now more of the spicy stuff please.’

  The bottle of red was almost empty when Jennifer finished. She’d kept the more intimate details to herself. ‘Calum tore up the bank cheque. He said it was strictly between him and Bret. Remind me to go to the bank and cancel it.’

  ‘What’s happening with the opening?’

  ‘Michelle’s favourite subject at school is art. Last term they had to design a brochure for a local business of their choice. She got an A plus for her work. She’s coming past one day this week to help and we’ll talk about designing invitations. I thought a lovely photo of the dining room all set out with candles, linen and tableware would look good. We can use the same photo on the fliers, with “Everyone Welcome” written across the top. It’ll be a great experience for both Claudia and Michelle.’

  ‘Yes it will.’ Sofie waved a hand towards the window. ‘The courtyard looks spotless —’

  ‘What?’ Jennifer cut in. ‘I left not long after lunch and it was still a workman’s dumping ground.’ She pushed her chair back, went to the landing and switched on the outside lights. Hurrying to the window, she opened it and hung out for a good look. ‘Crikey, they even laid a patio!’ she yelled.

  ‘Six burly blokes made short work of cleaning up the mess and laying tiles. All I have to do is plant the beds out, easy-peasy. Can’t wait to get my hands dirty,’ Sofie said, full of excitement.

  Jennifer took a sip of wine and, eyes squinting with concentration, peered into her sister face over the rim of her glass. ‘You’re way over the limit of your usual bubbly self. What’s going on?’ Sofie’s eyes grew round and innocent. Jennifer wasn’t buying it. ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Okay,’ Sofie raised her hands, palms out. ‘One of the rubble removers was police officer Brock. Did you know he owns a garden centre?’ Jennifer shook her head. ‘Well, he’s helping me with plants tomorrow. He’s gorgeous!’ she said on a breath and a grin.

  ‘Go for it,’ Jennifer grinned back and took a gulp of her wine.

  ‘Uh-huh, all right for you to say…maybe I’m reading more into this than I should. I mean, he’s…he’s,’ Sofie stammered, then continued in a rush, ‘he’s one hell of a big guy.’

  ‘Yes, and?’

  ‘What would he want with me?’ Sofie’s shoulders came up in question. ‘I’m a single mum, with a teenage daughter. When Claudie’s not moody then I am. Who in their right mind would want that?’

  ‘An ex-SAS guy,’ Jennifer nodded, smiling.

  ‘Yeah right,’ Sofie shook her head and changed the subject, which Jennifer thought was a shame, because she was so enjoying this. ‘If Calum has time, the whole back area needs decking out with fairy lights.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll run it by him. He’ll know which ones we should use.’

  ‘Cool. By the way, Claudie and I had a look at the closet, it’s more like a standalone walk-in closet. We tried really hard to move it, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge, so we went inside it. Couldn’t find a way to get into the space you told us about. You know, it might not have anything to do with Uncle Bob.’

  It was a miracle Jennifer kept a straight face; she was so glad she hadn’t mentioned having sex with Calum in the closet and went on calmly, ‘That’s what Calum suggested. One way or another, we’ll work it out.’

  An hour and another bottle of wine later, Jennifer was laughing at practically anything Sofie said. And Sofie was laughing at anything Jennifer said. When Claudia walked in to the kitchen, Jennifer’s forehead was resting on the table; she brushed her curls aside and looked up at her beautiful niece, free of Goth make-up.

  ‘Great — my mum and aunt are shitfaced. Niiice role models.’ She pulled a face, shook her head, turned and left, muttering, ‘I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Me too,’ Jennifer sighed. Steadying herself by holding onto the table, she shuffled around to her sister, helped her up and took her to their uncle’s refurbished old room. ‘Help your mum, Claudie.’ She left them and wobbled and giggled down the hall to the pink bedroom, pulled her clothes off and flopped into bed.

  Sometime during the night, Jennifer felt the touch of Calum’s big warm hand as he gently slid it around her waist and tucked her into his front and hips.

  ‘Hmm,’ she hummed sleepily, snuggling closer.

  He kissed her neck and whispered, ‘Sleep.’

  ‘Can’t,’ she murmured lazily, ‘something’s poking my bum.’

  Jennifer heard a quiet chuckle and felt his body shake. She smiled and she drifted off.

  Chapter 17

  Jennifer woke up disappointed there was no hot Calum to cuddle up to, just a note left on his pillow, saying: ‘Panadol, coffee’s ready, fry-up good for hangover. Later, Cal.’ The thought of food made her stomach churn; maybe toast would be enough.

  After breakfast, alone, she made her way downstairs to her restaurant, armed with a stack of serviettes. It gave her a buzz to see the stunning Edwardian dining room. Soft furnishings in deep red, crisp white linen tablecloths, sparkling tableware and lampshades for romantic lighting finished the look she was after. Jenn
ifer sighed, breathing in the room’s new smell. It wouldn’t take long for herbs and spices to permeate the air. Content, she headed for the buffet with her serviettes, intending to fold them into fan shapes.

  A long, drawn out wail pierced the air.

  Jennifer screamed and jumped with fright, knocking over several glasses, which shattered on the tiled floor. Panicked, she shot a look around the room. The howling noise came from somewhere out the back.

  Sofie and Claudia were yelling from their bedroom. Jennifer raced upstairs to join them.

  Her sister and niece dived out of their uncle’s old bedroom. Hand on her heart, eyes round, Sofie asked, ‘What the hell was that?’

  Eyes bugging out, Claudia clung to her mother. ‘Yeah, what the fuck?!’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ Jennifer said. ‘I didn’t do anything and I swear I didn’t touch anything. It’s not the smoke alarms either.’

  The terrible drone-wail echoed through the air again and the hair on Jennifer’s arms stood on end while a shiver ran up her spine. The wailing continued for a short while, and then — blessed silence. Something told Jennifer this was but a lull that would soon end — but when?

  She cringed as more discordant notes rattled the windows.

  ‘Whatever that is,’ Claudia hollered, ‘it’s off-key!’

  Jennifer grinned as realisation dawned. ‘It’s a piper — and there’s only one making all that noise. Can you imagine a whole bunch doing that? Do bagpipes need tuning?’

  ‘I don’t think so, you don’t tune a recorder,’ Sofie informed them. ‘Aren’t they kinda the same thing, but without an air bag?’

  Jennifer held her finger to her lips for the other two to shush as the noise continued. ‘It sounds like he’s getting the hang of it.’

  Claudia hugged herself against the chill. She pulled a face and said, ‘You’re nuts, Aunt Jen. It sounds like someone’s murdering an animal.’

  Sofie held one side of her dressing-gown out for Claudia to huddle under. ‘No sweetie that would be violins.’

  ‘Whatever. If it doesn’t stop soon, I’m gunna throw a shoe at him. And if I can lay my hands on the bag I’m gunna personally cut it up into tiny little pieces.’ Claudia slipped out from under her mother’s dressing gown and hurried back to Bob’s bedroom on tiptoes, her fingers in her ears.

  ‘Go have a lie in, Sofe,’ Jennifer yelled above the din. ‘I’ll go out the back and ask them nicely to move on.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jen. Find him and kill him. It’s freezing, I’m going to have a hot shower. Lie in? Of all the daft…’ The bagpipe squealed again and Sofie ran.

  ‘I really think he’s getting better at it.’ Jennifer strode to the window to have a closer look.

  A piper stood below in full dress uniform of red blazer and red and black tartan. His silver buttons sparkled, and braids glistened. A magnificent sight. He also looked familiar. He sounded pretty good, even with the odd off note. She could see about forty heads, caps atilt, milling about in the lane behind the fence. Jennifer wondered what the hell they were doing when, as if by magic, they formed up four abreast, in perfect lines.

  ‘Hey, you down there! HEY!’ she yelled louder. Deafened by his own screeching and blaring, all her waving and yelling had no effect on the piper.

  Jennifer hurried outside and immediately recognised the player’s legs. Eyes closed, deep in concentration, she needed to get his attention. ‘Hey!’ she yelled and squeezed the air bag. A bunch of off notes hit the air, making her flinch and shudder. ‘Calum!’

  He peered from under his cap and gave her a wicked grin. ‘G’day,’ he said, voice rumbling sexily around the mouthpiece.

  ‘G’day?’ she said, trying to sound casual, which was difficult.

  The mystique of his mighty, Scottish brawn turned her on. Or was it the kilt? ‘Take that tubey thing out of your mouth.’ He did and she planted her lips on his. He reached for her and pulled her in, with a clatter of pipes.

  The air bag whined, Wheeeaaaeeerh! until it died.

  She ended the kiss and said, ‘We just crushed your friend. Your purse is digging into my belly and those pipy things are putting dents in my breast. I have to say, Sofe and Claudie will be most pleased that we killed your friend.’ She stepped back for a better look at him. It wouldn’t matter what he wore, but this uniform had a wickedly sinful, erotic effect on her.

  He grinned. ‘Should I wear this more often?’

  ‘Love the knees.’ Jennifer looked down. ‘Nice purse. Love the red tartan. What’s under the kilt?’

  ‘Secret men’s business.’ He winked. He put the mouthpiece between his lips, blew air into the bag and squeezed. He played a few notes and cocked an eyebrow.

  Jennifer grimaced. ‘You should warn a girl before you blow that thing.’

  ‘Won’t do it again until we’re coming down Grey Street. You might want to get a good vantage point in case you want another look at the knees. And there’s something else you should see.’ He performed a perfect about-face; his kilt whirled tantalisingly high — but not quite high enough — then he marched out the gate to join the rest of the band.

  Jennifer wondered whether to warn her sister and niece. She went upstairs. Claudia was snoring with her mouth open and her iPod stuck in her ears. Should she bother? Nuh.

  She heard the shower going and popped her head in. ‘Sofe!’

  ‘Yeah, Jen. Thanks for making that frigging awful racket has stop.’

  ‘Quick, put something on.’ Jennifer grabbed a towel and handed it to her. ‘Or you’ll miss seeing it!’

  ‘Seeing what?’ But Sofie hadn’t missed Jennifer’s urgency. In a flash, she was dry and pulling on underwear, jeans and warm jumper. She shoved her feet into her socks and sneakers, ruffled her hair and headed downstairs.

  Jennifer opened the front door and squinted into the early morning sunlight. Eyes adjusting, she took in the colourful scene of people milling about on either side of the street.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Sofie asked, shading her eyes.

  ‘I’m not sure. Calum mumbled something about a sausage sizzle fund-raiser, but he never mentioned this.’

  ‘Aw, he wanted to surprise you. And us.’

  ‘Here they come.’ Jennifer stood on tiptoe to see down Grey Street. She forgot all about her hangover watching the magnificent, glorious colour and pageantry marching towards them. The marshal, dressed in full splendour, twirled his silver mace, followed by Calum leading the band of kilted men marching to Scotland the Brave.

  Jennifer’s heart swelled and her smile widened as Calum drew closer.

  The heart-rending music and the men looking so masculine and proud brought a lump to Jennifer’s throat. Calum was a mere few metres away when his eyes slid in her direction. She held her breath and felt the heat of their unspoken connection. Calum’s wink was proof that he felt it too and her breath quickened. She could hardly believe it. It took only a few seconds, but in that short time, surrounded by hundreds of people, she’d had a private, tender moment with Calum. The feeling stayed with her. Somehow she knew their connection would be eternal. She barely noticed the rest of the band as they marched by.

  Claudia, wearing Sofie’s dressing gown, peered over her shoulder. ‘Hectic!’

  Sofie gasped. ‘I want one! Can I choose?’

  ‘Mum!’ Claudia complained.

  ‘Oh-my-God — oh-my-God!’ Jennifer exclaimed. ‘Is that…it can’t be. He doesn’t know the first thing about drums.’

  ‘It’s him all right!’ Sofie gripped Jennifer’s arm, her fingers digging in hard, and gasped. ‘He’s marching next to the gardener bloke who’s helping me fix the courtyard!’

  ‘I don’t believe it. Uncle Bret!’

  Broad, white straps held a small drum at Bret’s hip. He was marching, and playing, in the middle of a row of drummers, and did his best to keep up. He might not have been an expert, but he looked magnificent in Calum’s red and black clan colours. Back straight and proud as
anyone could be, head not moving, his eyes sliced their way, his mouth working hard against a smile, but gave up and let it rip. Tears of pride and happiness glistened in his eyes.

  ‘Anyone got a tissue — better still, a box?’ Jennifer asked, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. She wanted to cry and sob for her younger brother. She wanted to run through the marching men and hug him until he yelled, enough!

  ‘That’s epic.’ Claudia clapped with animated enthusiasm.

  ‘Uncle Bob would’ve been so proud of him,’ Sofie sniffled.

  ‘Calum and his family did this. Bret’s become a man — finally,’ Jennifer whispered to herself.

  Sofie gave a contented sigh and tugged at Jennifer’s sleeve, but Jennifer didn’t move. She watched the men until they were around the corner and out of sight.

  ‘Come on, Jen, we need a double shot latté — with a twist.’

  *

  Jennifer took a deep breath and went inside their restaurant. She picked up a serviette from the buffet to blow her nose.

  ‘I don’t think you have to worry about Uncle Bret anymore,’ Claudia said with feeling.

  ‘No, he’s fine.’ Jennifer took the handful of tissues that appeared under her nose. ‘Do I look like I’ve been crying?’

  ‘Hell no.’ Sofie performed an exaggerated eye roll.

  ‘I’m gunna make some toast,’ Claudia said. ‘Anyone want any?’

  Sofie swung around to stare at her daughter’s back, then swung back, eyes wide and questioning, to Jennifer.

  ‘No thanks, Claudia.’ Jennifer shrugged at her sister. ‘I’ve had breakfast.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Love some. Thanks, sweetheart,’ Sofie blinked.

  ‘Don’t look at me, sis,’ Jennifer whispered.

  The espresso coffee maker burbled. ‘I’ll get the coffee — you want one, Claud?’ Sofie asked, opening the cupboard for some cups.

  ‘Sure. Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘You think Claudia is old enough for coffee?’ Jennifer asked.

  ‘The moment Claudie offered to make toast, she matured ten years,’ Sofie said, all misty-eyed.

  Toast and coffee in hand, Claudia said, ‘I’ll take mine in the den and get back to the crap.’