No Place Like You

by Marnie St Clair

Mirabook was so quiet! She’d gotten used to having people in the house. Saxon had returned to Sydney the day after her, not that she’d had time to catch up with him there. And Josh and Katie had been spending so much time here in the weeks leading up to the ball too, it was like Mirabook was always full.

  Now it seemed as empty as when she’d first returned.

  She deposited her handbag and the mail she’d collected on her way through on the kitchen island and ran herself a glass of water. She hadn’t been gone long, but there was already a substantial little pile waiting in her post box. And even though she’d just spent a week all but buried in paperwork, she loved it. Every single bill, every single piece of correspondence. Addressed to her. Answered by her. She was on top of this stuff now, and it was a good feeling.

  She flicked through the pile absently as she sipped, head more focused on Josh than on the letters in front of her. Would he be offended if she jumped his bones the second she saw him? She wanted to talk to him too, of course, but priorities were priorities.

  She paused when she came to an envelope she couldn’t place. No logo, so not from a big institution, but her name and address were printed, and nothing about it suggested it was personal. Her curiosity won out, and she slit the top of the envelope and extracted the neatly folded contents.

  A letter from some kind of property group. Demanding payment on a debt secured against Mirabook. Her mother’s name. An exorbitant amount that was now overdue.

  What? What debt? There must be some kind of misunderstanding, because she didn’t owe anything. She scanned through, and when she read the name Josh Farrell at the end, a chill ran straight up her spine.

  What was Josh’s name doing there?

  What the hell was going on?

  It must be some kind of mistake. She must have misinterpreted it somehow.

  She had to calm down, breathe, and reread the letter carefully. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a joke, though she couldn’t imagine who on earth would find this funny.

  Returning to the top, she started again. Slowly and carefully, and that’s when the panic really started, because it wasn’t open to interpretation and it certainly wasn’t a joke. According to this document, thanks to her mother, she owed half a million dollars. The terms of the loan had already expired—she was on some kind of extension. Next step was the courts. Courts which would force her to sell Mirabook, because she had no other way of coming up with that kind of money. Last but certainly not least, one Mister Joshua Farrell was involved, a partner in this property investment group. No possible way to misinterpret that either.

  Breathe. Think.

  The first thing she had to do was find all the paperwork connected with the title on Mirabook. It should be in the folders of paperwork the accountants had sent up a couple of weeks ago.

  She made her way to the dining room, to the corner which she’d allocated as her informal study. Tossing aside her business texts and exercise books full of notes, she pulled out the oversized envelope stuffed with manila folders. She knew exactly what she was looking for, and it didn’t take her long to locate the right one.

  She didn’t realise until she saw it all written there in black and white that she’d been holding out hope that somehow, this was all some kind of mistake. It wasn’t a mistake. And look, there was Josh’s signature all over the paperwork again.

  This made no sense. He had to have known, and he had to have known she didn’t, so why hadn’t he told her? Why?

  She collapsed back against the wall, slid to the floor.

  She remembered this feeling. She knew this feeling. Dread, helplessness, disconnection from everyone and everything. This was how it felt to lose everything.

  It was Sydney all over again. Where the world she’d thought she’d lived in just didn’t exist, and the harder she’d tried to grab and hold it, the faster it had slipped through her fingers. And now this world, this life, at Mirabook. She’d been so determined it would be different, that she’d be different, and she’d worked so hard at it, built it brick by fucking brick, but it made no difference, because this was tumbling down around her too.

  Why hadn’t he told her?

  She was angry with Josh, livid with loathing, but it didn’t stop there. She shouldn’t have needed him to tell her. That vital information was sitting here all along, in a folder she hadn’t got around to looking at. Why hadn’t she got to it sooner? She knew why. She’d been so consumed with the ball. Everything had been about getting that damn ballroom ready in time.

  To think, she’d just been congratulating herself on being on top of all of her business. What a joke. Josh was the comedian and she was the punch line. Ha ha ha.

  Now that the initial shock was wearing off, what she found underneath was a certain level of acceptance. With this piece of paper, the last month and a bit made sense.

  She’d known something wasn’t right. She’d known there was something standing between them, something he was keeping from her. She’d assumed it was all to do with their past, and in a way it was, but there was more to it. Josh wanted Mirabook. He’d tried to buy it from her on numerous occasions in the early days. When he’d said he wouldn’t ask again, she’d thought it meant he’d given up. But it didn’t. He hadn’t asked again because he didn’t have to keep asking. He knew he was going to get it in the end anyway.

  Other things made sense too. His insistence that the ball take place within the month. Due to some builder who’d never been mentioned again. The way he’d tried to talk her out of her business idea. Council wouldn’t grant approval. Yeah right. Helen had expressed her doubts about that one, and Lily had given him the benefit of the doubt, but now she saw it for what it was—an outright lie to put her off.

  His reluctance to form any real connection with her. The way he changed the subject when she brought up their relationship and their future.

  He’d let her believe that she had a future here, that they had a future. He must really hate her, to let her believe like that. Was that part of it? Was that part of some twisted Machiavellian plan for revenge?

  How could she have been so blind?

  A knock sounded at the door. Josh. It was him. She knew it was him.

  One look at her, and his eyes grew wary.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ She thrust the letter out in front of her.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Lil. Please. I know I have some explaining to do.’

  He was going to explain how he’d forgotten to mention that she owed half a million dollars? This ought to be good. Shrugging, she turned and walked away. She was inadvertently heading for the kitchen, but at the last minute, diverted into the drawing room. The kitchen was for friends; the drawing room was for guests.

  ‘So, what the hell is this?’

  He leaned back against the mantelpiece, arms across his chest. ‘I didn’t want you to find out like that. I thought you’d be back before it arrived. I planned on explaining in person.’

  Oh, that made all the difference. Not. ‘Well, you’re here now, so go ahead. Explain how I owe half a million dollars I didn’t know about.’

  He didn’t speak immediately, just looked at her. Like he was requesting her to cut him a break, and expecting she’d go along with it. Cut him a break? Was he kidding? All it did was piss her off more. She wasn’t helping him out here, she wasn’t going to make this easy. Eventually, Josh got the message and looked away.

  ‘The first thing you have to understand,’ he said stiffly, ‘is that it all happened before you came back.’

  ‘All what happened exactly?’

  ‘When Elisabeth sold the land to us, we offered to buy the house as well. She refused, but took out a loan. The property—Mirabook—came to you encumbered.’

  ‘Us. We. Who are you talking about?’ Did he think by saying ‘we’ and ‘us’ he was somehow less responsible?

  ‘My business partners. And me.’

  ‘Business par
tners?’ She hadn’t known he had business partners. She shook her head, as if to clear it, because that wasn’t really relevant and she had a lot more questions to ask. ‘I don’t understand how this even came about. Did Mum put the estate on the market?’

  He winced, looked down at his boots. ‘No. We contacted her.’

  ‘And by “we” you mean “I”.’ Because as much as he kept using the plural, it was obvious where the idea had originated from.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, eyes still down.

  ‘Why?’

  He shrugged. ‘We invest in rural properties. My business partners and I. Mirabook is prime land, and it was being mismanaged.’

  ‘So you do this often, make offers for properties that aren’t on the market?’

  A pause. ‘No,’ he said, soft and pained.

  Too bad for him. He should feel pained.

  ‘So basically, just to be really clear, you pursued Mirabook. You pursued Mum. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this situation.’

  Another pause. ‘Yes.’

  It was as she’d expected. Josh’s pursuit of Mirabook went way beyond ‘prime land’ and profit margins. It’d been personal. He’d wanted the land he’d grown up on, the land his father had worked. She, more than anyone, knew how confused Josh had been about the nexus of Mirabook, his family and hers. She could almost understand it, almost sympathise. As he’d been at such pains to emphasise, it had all happened before she’d come back.

  If it had stopped there, if that was all, maybe she could have come to terms with it. But there was one thing she just couldn’t accept. They’d been together for weeks. They’d made love every night. And he’d never mentioned this once. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  He looked up at her then. ‘I wanted to. Heaps of times. Not at first … At first, I … You know how I felt at first. And then later, there was the ball and everything … I was going to tell you, but … It was complicated.’

  ‘I don’t know, Josh, it wasn’t that complicated for me. It was simple. I loved you.’

  She saw her use of the past tense register, the sudden tensing of all the muscles in his face and neck.

  ‘Look, Lily … This is all in the past. I don’t want Mirabook anymore. You belong here. I’ve been working on a way out of the debt for you, but that’s kind of redundant now, isn’t it? Now that you’ve got the money back.’

  It wasn’t quite that simple, but she decided to let that go for now. There were more important questions she needed answered. ‘So at what point exactly did you decide I belonged here, and stopped wanting Mirabook for yourself?’

  He didn’t answer. With his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes cast down, he looked like a penitent choir boy. She didn’t want penitence. She wanted answers. ‘Hey, I asked you a question. When?’

  ‘The day we were out collecting branches.’

  Wow. That late. After they’d been sleeping together for a good long while. She thought she couldn’t feel any worse than she did, but that one still packed quite a punch.

  She turned away, rubbed her hands over her eyes, over her face. Tried to clear her murky head and her poor, wounded heart. After today, she was never going to talk to Josh again. This was her last chance to understand how this had happened to her. How she’d lost everything. Again. Then she’d never have to hear another word out of his deceitful mouth.

  Josh, deceitful. Two words she’d never thought she’d use together.

  ‘I can accept you thought Mum wasn’t doing a good job running Mirabook. I can accept that you bought the land from her. I can even sort of accept that you wanted the house too, before I’d come back. But all this time … Everything we’ve been through … How could you make love to me, let me think we had something real, and not tell me? How could you do that to me?’

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Maybe I should have …’ He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I definitely should have. You should have known. I should have told you.’

  Damn straight he should have.

  He brought his elbows up, rested his head in his hands. ‘At first, when I realised how bad things were for you … You seemed so lost, so vulnerable. I thought you might break if I told you then. I got the loan extended so you could stay another month.’

  So that was him. Was she supposed to be grateful? Because she was flat out of gratitude.

  She took a step closer, forcing him to look at her again. ‘You should have just told me. I would have coped.’

  ‘I know that now.’ A grim smile. ‘There’s nothing you couldn’t cope with, Lily. It didn’t take me long to realise that.’

  ‘And yet, you still didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Everything was about the ball. You were so busy and excited, and I was in talks with my partners about other options. I didn’t want to worry you if I could sort something out instead. I was going to tell you the day after the ball, but you left for Sydney. I know you’re right. I should have told you from the beginning. All I can say is that there always seemed to be a good reason not to.’ He leaned back against the mantel, arms across his chest. ‘I get that you’re upset, but it’s going to be okay.’

  She looked at him, stunned for a moment into silence. Was he for real? ‘It’s not okay, Josh. It’s not ever going to be okay.’

  ‘You’ve got money again. Just pay off the debt. Nothing has to change.’

  She laughed, and it was a bitter sound, one she hated. Despite everything that had happened in the past year, she’d never been bitter. Until now. And if that was Josh’s parting gift, she might hate him forever. Nothing had to change? Everything had changed.

  Besides that, there was the reality of her financial situation. ‘I don’t have any money.’

  ‘What?’ He shifted forward, shock written all over his face. ‘I thought you said the money had reappeared.’

  ‘It did, for a while. I returned it to the investors.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I decided I had no right to it.’

  A pause as he digested that. ‘That’s what’s been keeping you so busy all week.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I should have made sure we talked last week.’

  Just when she thought she couldn’t get angrier! ‘Do you really think that would have made a difference? Do you think I would make the decision on whether to keep the money or not based on whether I had something else to do with it?’

  ‘No, of course not. I just … Okay.’ He moved forward, paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, hands raking frantically through his hair. ‘Okay. So I’ll call the guys again. They wanted their money back, but if we work on that business plan of yours, make it irresistible, maybe we can get them to change their minds and take a stake after all.’

  She watched him going around in circles in front of her, trying to think his way out of the hole he’d dug, and realised he still didn’t get it. ‘Josh, stop. It’s too late.’

  ‘No. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it somehow.’

  ‘I don’t want you to. There’s nothing to fix. There never was.’

  He stopped his pacing and looked at her, his usually robust complexion pale, eyes confused and wild.

  ‘This was always going to happen, I just didn’t know it. Mirabook was never mine. It came to me with a debt I can’t pay back, so it was never mine. The wedding business was never going to happen. It was never real.’ She let it hit her, let it wash over her, the most painful bit of all. ‘We were never real. I was just too stupid to see it.’

  ‘You’re not stupid, Lily. This was me, not you. You know that, right?’ He took a step towards her, hands outstretched, palms up. ‘Look, I should have told you about the debt. That’s all. It doesn’t make anything you’ve done here any less real. It doesn’t make us less real.’

  Another one of the bitter laughs she hated escaped from her lips. ‘Oh, come on, Josh. You hated my guts from day one. You wanted me gone up until two weeks ago. There’s nothing real about that. And I was stupid.’
Stupid about him. She’d clung to the idea that they were made for each other like a life raft. Despite all indications to the contrary. There was nothing more to say or do. She was exhausted and she’d had enough. ‘Go, Josh. Just go.’

  He took another step towards her, but one look at her, and he stopped.

  She knew what she hoped he saw. She wasn’t kidding. She would never forgive him, and she never wanted to see him again. They were over.

  He was gutted. For once he wasn’t hiding his feelings. But it was too late. It was all too late.

  He got it. Shoulders slumped, he swerved from her and headed out the door.

  Despite all her efforts, this life she’d thought she was building was just as much of an illusion as the one she’d left behind in Sydney. Her ownership and plans for Mirabook, her whole relationship with Josh. All of it was a mirage. He’d let her believe it was real.

  Not stupid? She had been stupid. She’d been so sure that she knew him, the real him. Saxon had tried to warn her but she hadn’t listened. She’d been projecting her ideal of Josh, the boy he’d once been, onto the man he’d become. She’d be so sure, she’d put up with all his crap—and God, he’d doled out a lot—and then lined up for more.

  At the end of the day, she’d done what she always did. Made up her own fairy-tale version of reality, instead of facing the truth. She’d let herself believe she was getting everything she could possibly wish for—Josh and Mirabook, a beautiful future and the past finally put to bed.

  What a fool. Lily Schofield got nothing. Nothing except the truckload of bitterness slowly creeping in.

  Chapter 20

  Josh had never seen Lily like that. She’d come here with nothing, but she’d never seemed defeated. Not until today. Back there, she’d looked like she’d finally had enough. Was finally ready to give up. He’d done that to her and he hated himself for it.

  How could he have thought it was going to be okay? That if he could only find a way to get his business partners to invest, it would all be okay? Even if they’d agreed, how different would that conversation have been? The thing she cared most about was not losing Mirabook, but that he’d lied to her.