So that’s what she’d do.
***
Josh reached for her in the bed next to him, but she was gone. Their earlier conversation came back to him. Something about a guy called Hamish. Going to Sydney. Coming back tonight.
Tonight. Fuck yeah.
He rolled over, reached for his phone and checked the time. Ten-thirty? Seriously? Waking at ten-thirty was like waking in the middle of the night. Then again, after the night they’d had, maybe he could let himself off the hook.
He dropped his phone on the bed next to him, sat up and stretched. He felt a hundred years younger, his soul a hundred kilograms lighter. Before had been good—last night had been divine. Like he’d come pretty close to touching something infinite.
Something infinite? What was he thinking? He was no poet.
He reached for the mug beside him, took one sip and grimaced. Cold.
Heading down the stairs, he dressed quickly in last night’s formal wear. Something more casual and comfortable would have been better, but this was all he had at Mirabook. It was time, he realised, to bring some of his stuff over here. And invite Lily to do the same at his house. Or maybe just cut to the chase and move in together.
His place or hers?
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Because the Mirabook situation still wasn’t resolved. He’d been waiting to hear from his business partners all week. He’d managed to get Peter interested in Lily’s proposal, but Dennis was away in the States, and there could be no final confirmation until he came back.
Still thinking caffeine, he headed to the kitchen, but Mirabook felt weird without Lily. Like the ghost of her as a child was hiding behind every door. He’d almost spot her, from the corner of his eye, but then she’d flee around a corner.
Had he really thought he could live here without her? He would have gone mad.
Why had he wanted this house so much? What had he been thinking? That possessing Mirabook would mean he’d avenged his father or some nonsense like that. It wouldn’t have turned out like that, he knew that now. He would have gloried in Mirabook’s beauty for a little while, taken some measure of satisfaction in thinking he’d kicked the Schofields out for good, before he was gradually forced to come to terms with the fact that he was every bit as angry and miserable as he’d been every day for the last ten years.
Finally owning Mirabook wouldn’t have been able to take that bitterness from him; but Lily had.
She’d given him back his father.
It was Sunday morning. He had somewhere to be.
Quarter of an hour later, he came to stand at his mother’s side before his father’s gravestone.
Her face swung to his—mouth open, eyes wide. ‘Josh,’ she said. Her hand flew to her mouth, but then reached out and grabbed his. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to talk to Dad.’ He looked from her to his dad’s simple white headstone. ‘About time, don’t you think?’
‘Yes,’ she said with quiet intensity. ‘I do.’ She wasn’t going to cry, not his mum, but she was close.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. All these years, he’d never come with her. He’d been so lost in his own pain, he hadn’t stopped to think about how his mother must have felt spending this time each week alone.
‘So, here you are,’ she said, more than a faint hint of leading in her words. She wanted to know why now, what had changed.
‘Lily said a few things.’ It didn’t really describe what had happened last night, but it was all he was going to share with his mother.
With a final squeeze she released his hand. ‘I’ll give you two a minute alone.’
‘You don’t have to go.’
She twisted her hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘I talk to your father all the time.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Besides, it’s getting late and I have to put the chicken on. You’re coming for lunch? With Lily, of course.’
He smiled. Lily invited for Sunday lunch. Would wonders never cease? But he was grateful his mum understood how things were, now that he finally understood his own feelings. ‘Lily had to go back to Sydney.’
A repeat of her earlier expression—mouth open, eyes wide. Shocked and appalled at the idea of Lily leaving town.
‘Only for today,’ he qualified, and smiled again, because since when had his mum been so keen for Lily to stick around? ‘I’ll ask her for next week.’ And every week after that …
‘Good,’ his mother said firmly.
‘You’re really okay with us? After … you know, everything the Schofields did?’
‘Oh, Josh, none of that was Lily’s fault.’ She drew her coat around her more tightly. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ With a final pat to his arm, she walked away.
Well, just him and his dad then.
He dropped to a crouch and laid his hand on the grave, as if he could somehow touch him. It was all so clear now. Everything. He’d blamed Lily and the Schofields because they were easy targets. It was a lot easier to blame them than to face how he really felt. Desperately angry and desperately sad. Betrayed and deserted by the man he respected more than anyone. The best man he’d ever known. His hero, but still human.
‘I’m still angry with you, Dad.’ It was true. There was definitely some of that rattling around his poor abused insides. But now that it was out in the open, not locked away in a tight, icy core right in the centre of his heart, it had lost some of its potency. And now that he’d finally said it, he realised it wasn’t even what he most needed to say to his father. ‘I miss you, you know. I think of you every day.’
‘Lily’s back,’ he continued. ‘You wouldn’t believe what she’s like. I mean, she’s still the same Lily, but …’ She was a woman now, gracious and wise. ‘You’d love her.’
Like Josh did.
He looked around the cemetery, searching for inspiration, but all he saw was the green grass lawn, studded with stone gravestones, surrounded by gums. The church spire was just visible over their rustling tops. It was a good resting place. Peaceful.
‘I better go help Mum peel potatoes. You know how she gets about Sunday dinner.’ He gave the ground another pat. ‘Good talking, Dad. I’ll be back next week.’
***
Josh returned home after roast chicken with his mum to catch up on some of the work he hadn’t got to over the past few weeks. Mundane paper work, because he wanted—no, needed—to save his strength for tonight. And mundane it must have been, because the next thing he knew, it was well into the night. He’d fallen asleep.
And Lily wasn’t back yet.
He was just starting to worry, remembering the accident they’d almost had last time she’d driven here from Sydney, when he realised he’d left his phone at Mirabook. No wonder he hadn’t got a call. He jogged over to retrieve it and there was the message he’d been expecting.
Things were more complicated than she’d thought. Her dad’s money had turned up again, but she needed to stay and sort it out. She wouldn’t be back today. Actually, it might be a couple of days before she could come home.
Okay.
Really? Shouldn’t he be freaking out, because she was a Schofield and she had money again?
But he wasn’t. It wouldn’t make any difference. Not to him, and not to Lily.
All of a sudden he was grinning like a madman, because that just wasn’t true. This money made all the difference in the world. It was the answer to all their problems. He wasn’t sure how much she was talking about, but Schofield-related amounts always came with a few more zeroes than other mere mortals were accustomed to. Which meant she’d be able to pay back his business partners. Easily.
She was up in Sydney dealing with paperwork? Great. He had some business of his own to get started on. Now that there was an obvious solution, he was eager to set it in motion, beyond ready for this problem which had felt like impending doom to be over and done with. He’d thank his business partners for considering the events venue idea he’d floated, but let them know that the new owner of M
irabook would in fact be repaying the debt in full. And then he’d print and send the necessary notices and forms.
It was late Sunday night but he couldn’t wait. If Peter was surprised to hear from him, he didn’t let it show. In fact, he said, it was a good thing Josh had rung, because they needed to talk. Dennis had arrived back from the start-up conference he’d been attending in the States. All he could talk about was all the tech businesses he was dying to invest in. The phoenix had finally risen from the ashes. So, Peter was sorry to disappoint Josh, and they’d considered taking a stake in a new wedding-based business at Mirabook, but they would need their half a million dollars back instead. Now-ish.
Even twenty-four hours ago this news would have been devastating. Now, it didn’t even begin to wipe the smile off his face. He told Peter it wouldn’t be a problem. That he’d get it all organised as soon as possible. In fact, they wouldn’t even have to wait on the sale of the property.
Lily would be able to repay the debt within the week.
Chapter 19
Lily rubbed at bleary eyes and knocked again. She’d made an appointment, so Mrs Henschke should be expecting her, but she evidently wasn’t in a rush to answer the door. Which told her a little about the kind of reception she was likely to get. But hey, Mrs Henschke was investor number seventeen, the last on her list, and she figured she’d probably dealt with the whole spectrum of responses by now.
It had been a hellish week. She hadn’t been able to sign the documents on Sunday afternoon. She just hadn’t. Hamish had been frustrated with her, but she’d insisted she needed to satisfy herself that the money was rightfully hers first.
She’d spent hours poring over accounts, attempting to decipher the columns of numbers. Incomings, outgoings. It was hard yakka, but she’d wanted to do a fair assessment of the situation in front of her—her situation—and the only way to do that was to get her hands dirty, so to speak. She’d even spent an afternoon in the offices of the lawyers representing the plaintiffs in the case against her father, hearing them out, reading through their documentation and arguments.
Ten cents in the dollar—that’s what had been returned to the investors once the dust settled. Ten cents in the dollar.
Hamish continued to argue in her father’s favour, claiming that Lily didn’t owe anyone anything. And that in any case, they were all wealthy anyway.
She could appreciate what he was saying. Investing was risky. Perhaps it wasn’t a clear cut case of right and wrong, but it was a question of values. And, after long, arduous days on an extremely steep learning curve, she’d formed her own conclusions.
Her father hadn’t wilfully lost the money, but he’d made claims and promises that were never likely to be fulfilled in order to get people to invest, and, once it became apparent things were headed south, he’d acted increasingly recklessly. With other people’s money. With his own, he’d been extremely cautious.
In her eyes, he had been guilty of unconscionable conduct, and she was returning the money. She’d be able to pay out ninety-seven cents in the dollar to each investor. That was a good start. Once her business at Mirabook started making money, she’d return the extra three per cent.
The door in front of her opened to reveal a pint-sized woman dressed in vintage Chanel. Lily was a full head taller than the woman, but there was no doubting who was looking down on whom.
She extended her hand. ‘Mrs Henschke. I’m Lily Schofield. We met once, briefly, at your granddaughter Leila’s wedding.’
Her hand was taken, as it had been by all the investors, because people like Mrs Henschke had exquisite manners no matter their feelings. ‘I know who you are,’ she said. ‘Come in.’
The apartment was in the best part of Sydney, but it was tiny, and everything was old. Some of the furniture and ornaments were antique, but other things, like the television, were just plain old. Hamish had argued that this money didn’t matter to the people her father had taken it from, because they were rich anyway. Even if she’d agreed with his logic, he had his facts wrong. Mrs Henschke might have come from money, clearly had if the Wedgewood on display was any indication, but she was not rolling in it. Not anymore.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ Lily said politely, taking a seat.
‘Curiosity has always been my fatal flaw.’ She might be tiny and ancient, but there was steel in those bright eyes.
If curiosity was the only reason she’d agreed to see her, well, Lily couldn’t blame her. Not after everything that had happened. ‘This won’t take long. I’ve come for two reasons. The first is to apologise on behalf of my family for everything that has happened over the past two years. The second is to return what I can.’ She reached into her purse, and pulled out the last of her checks. ‘This is most of what you invested. I’ll return the remainder when I can.’
The elderly woman assessed her for a moment with surprisingly clear, very blue eyes, then took the cheque from Lily and placed it on the coffee table without so much as a glance at it. ‘I’ve been a terrible hostess,’ she said after a pause. ‘I haven’t even offered you tea.’
Mrs Henschke disappeared into the adjoining kitchen, and Lily followed soon after when she realised that she might need help carrying things back. Biscuits were being placed on a plate. Lily couldn’t help but notice the packet. Royal Doulton porcelain, plain home brand biscuits. Said it all, really. She wondered if Mrs Henschke had told her family exactly how much she’d lost in Orion, and how tight things were now. Judging by her steel-rod of a backbone, Lily would be surprised if she had.
‘You did a wonderful job with Leila’s wedding,’ Mrs Henschke said once they were seated again. ‘She was so pleased with how the day went.’
‘Thank you. She was a lot of fun to work with.’ Mrs Henschke’s granddaughter, an absolute ball of energy, had requested a South Pacific wedding, all hibiscus and ukuleles, sunshine and smiles.
‘My other granddaughter is getting married next year. What you did for Leila was just magic, but Emily’s terribly serious, quite caught up in everything being done right. She’ll want something rather different, something much more traditional. If you do that kind of thing.’
Oh. Lily was incredibly touched. ‘I don’t work for Gilded anymore,’ she said, somewhat regretfully.
‘I’m very sorry to hear that. Where are you working now?’
Lily hesitated just a moment. ‘Actually, I’m opening my own venue. At Mirabook. I don’t know if you know the property …’
‘I know of it.’ Mrs Henschke sipped her tea. ‘I knew your grandmother, you know. Not well, but we were introduced on a number of occasions. You are very like her.’
Lily smiled. ‘So I’ve been told.’
Ten minutes later, Mrs Henschke rose, walking Lily to the door. This time, she offered her hand first. ‘I’ll discuss it with Emily. We’ll be in touch.’
Last Orion client, first Mirabook customer?
Lily smiled all the way to her car. Finished, at last. She was so goddamn happy to be going home.
***
Josh looked down at the text just in.
Heading back now. Hope you’re well rested
About time.
He’d barely had any contact with her over the week. He’d tried to call a few times, but their timing had been off—either her phone had been switched off or she’d been about to go into some kind of meeting. After the message on Sunday, he’d heard little from her beyond the occasional text.
Sorry about having to hang up on you before. Everything okay here. See you soon.
Things taking longer than planned. Already late for next appointment.
So tired. Kisses. Back soon.
Of course, he could’ve talked to her if he’d really wanted to. If he’d left a message asking her to call him, she would have. Truth was, he’d been happy with radio silence. He had some things to explain to her, about the debt and everything, and he didn’t want to do it over the phone. But he wasn’t comfortable not telling her either, if
he was talking to her. So all up, the lack of contact had suited him just fine.
Something had sure been keeping her busy. He had no idea what it was she was doing up there. No doubt he’d hear all about it tonight. Among the other things they had to discuss …
She’d be cool, right?
He’d say something like, ‘By the way, your mum did more than sell the land, she also took out a whopping big mortgage on the house.’
And she’d say something like, ‘No sweat. I can pay that back no problem.’
He hoped that was how it went.
It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong, he reminded himself again. Elisabeth had taken a loan issued by his group; Mirabook was used as security; the term of the loan was now up; as the owner of Mirabook, it fell to Lily to pay it back. It was just business, and that’s how she’d see it.
He almost believed himself.
Why hadn’t he told her about it? He should have. He’d planned to. It’d been on the tip of his tongue on numerous occasions. There just hadn’t been a good time. At first, she’d been so fragile. And then he hadn’t wanted to worry her before the ball. He’d planned to tell her straight after, but she’d disappeared up to Sydney. It was all reasonable and she’d understand that, right?
And it had all occurred before Lily had even come back to town. It wasn’t like he’d do the same thing now. He didn’t want Mirabook anymore, he just wanted her.
She’d understand all that. Surely. And with the money to pay it back sorted, it wasn’t even really going to be an issue. Right?
Still, he hadn’t wanted to tell her on the phone.
***
‘Josh?’ Lily called the second she was in the door.
No answer. She’d been hoping he might be waiting for her, but she’d made excellent time from Sydney and arrived a little earlier than expected. No problem. She’d go to him.
No Place Like You Page 24