by Lily Malone
Sure, there were unsealed roads that could get north–south, but they were little better than goat tracks; you had to really know your way to get through, and those tracks could get bogged up in winter.
The water ski park changed lots of things. All the local kids would want to give it a try; Sam would want to be first in line— and Sam’s swimming wasn’t anywhere near strong enough for him to be safe in a ski park.
He’d need lessons.
She should have given him lessons. It was her duty as his parent.
Now she had a ski park being built near her new town, a town with people she was growing to love, and those people had kids and grandkids, nieces and nephews, all who’d be keen to check out the water ski park.
Like it or not (and she definitely didn’t like it), Ella felt a growing sense of responsibility to the parents and children of this town she called home.
Was there anyone in Chalk Hill better qualified to teach people how to swim than her? She doubted it.
CHAPTER
19
By any stretch of the imagination, Jake had to agree it had been one helluva day. First Ella and that kiss. Then Henry’s new offer. And then the story in the newspaper about Pickles’ dam and the new road.
Extending Chalk Hill Bridge Road had always been talked about, but these days it was almost more like one of those urban myths. Every now and then a journalist would breathe life into the story, like when someone revisited the idea about building a massive pipe to pump water from the Northern Territory to irrigate southern Australia; or someone aired the idea about building a huge bank of solar panels out in the desert to power the cities. It got talked about but it never happened.
Joining the two east–west highways with a north–south intersection at Chalk Hill had been laid out in most strategic plans he’d ever seen for Chalk Hill, Rocky Gully and the south coast, but till now nothing concrete had ever been passed. Too expensive. Not a priority. Not enough traffic.
Pickles was on to something with his water ski park. Clever bugger.
Jake put the glass of rum and Coke to his lips and drank, letting ice chink the rim as he gazed through the two gums towards his dam and the distant hills. There were clouds tonight. Gonna be an amazing sunset. A touch more lime would be good in his drink, and he gave the wedge another generous squeeze.
Inside, the house phone rang, but Jake ignored it. He was pretty sure, nah, he was definite, it would be Abel. Abe would have seen the paper, well, the online version at least, and there’d be big dollar signs in gold hot pants dancing in his brother’s mind.
Jake stretched his neck to the right, then left, raised his shoulders to his ears, relaxed and took another sip of his drink. That extra lime made it perfect, and he let out a satisfied sigh.
Satisfaction didn’t last long.
Bloody Henry Graham.
Henry wasn’t going away. Not now this news about the road had broken. He’d seen Ella’s face when he’d pushed the offer back at her. He’d seen the hope she’d tried so hard to hide go out like a light.
If Abel would come clean about why he needed money so much, Jake could be done with it, but he couldn’t help Abe if his stubborn mule of a little brother wouldn’t let him in. It wasn’t fair to Ella, this bloody charade over selling Irma’s house.
Ella. That kiss. The way she’d touched her lips afterwards, like she thought he might have stolen them away.
Jake nudged the shrunken wedge of lime with his finger, then touched his finger to his tongue and winced at the sour taste. At least it stopped a bloke dreaming about his girl and how she tasted like apples when he kissed her.
Jake sat a little longer, looking out over the farm. Jess came to sit by the table after a while and Jake rubbed the dog’s back with his foot, and kept rubbing till the gnaw in his stomach told him he was hungry.
Nita had left him a lasagne in the fridge on Sunday afternoon. That woman didn’t know how not to cater for him, but he was glad for it and grateful. She’d never stop thinking she owed him for pulling Ollie out of the town pool nine years ago, and he’d not yet been able to convince her otherwise.
* * *
‘This is getting a bit like Groundhog Day,’ Ella said to her boss when she walked into work the next morning and found Harvey in the door of his office holding four pages of white paper in his hand.
‘Tell me about it,’ Harvey agreed, giving the pages a little pump as he extended his arm towards her.
‘Can’t say he isn’t keen,’ said Bob from his office.
‘Morning, Bob,’ Ella said, taking the papers from Harvey and continuing to her space, where she stowed her handbag under the desk.
Ella pulled out her chair and sat, scanning the pages. This time, $479,000 had been crossed out and $499,000 was written in Henry Graham’s meticulous hand, initialled HG.
Was it terrible that her very first thought was, I wonder if Jake might kiss me when I show him this?
A tingle of excitement started in her toes, ran up the back of her legs, shivered a path up her spine and settled somewhere at the tip of each ear.
CHAPTER
20
‘You’re kidding,’ Ella said to her boss when she walked into work the next morning and found Harvey at the door of his office holding four pages of white paper in his hand. Only the pages weren’t looking so white and crisp now, and the print had begun to bleed with all the back and forward printing, initialling, scanning and faxing.
Harvey had his twinkle up. ‘Nope.’
‘He’s not kidding,’ called Bob from his office.
Bob had a twinkle up too.
‘You two are enjoying this,’ Ella said, stowing her handbag, shucking her cardigan off—it was cooler today—and laying it on the back of her chair.
‘You’re the only one of us getting any action this month, Ella,’ Bob said. ‘We’re living through you.’
Ella retraced her steps to Harvey and took the pages from him, glancing down. ‘Bloody hell,’ she muttered.
The $499,000 from yesterday was crossed out. In its place was the new figure $519,000.
‘What do I do, Harvey? This is crazy, surely? Have you ever had anything like this?’ Ella asked.
‘I’ve had offers where we had to get a new front page because they offered and countered so much,’ Bob chipped in. ‘They had arrows going all over the page and we lost track of what had been crossed out and when.’
‘It can happen,’ Harvey said.
‘But yesterday was exactly the same as the day before, Harvey. Jake won’t countersign. He looks at it.’ He kisses me till I’m so messed up I can’t think straight. ‘Then he hands it back and says, “Tell Henry I’m at the asking price”. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to try to negotiate it. Jake won’t negotiate. Henry won’t go higher.’
‘Why not?’ Bob said.
‘He told me yesterday if he made another offer,’ she tapped the page, ‘that means this one. He said it was the last roll of the dice.’
‘So that’s his best price?’ Harvey asked.
‘I think so, yes.’
‘You believe him?’ Bob asked from his desk.
‘I do,’ Ella said.
‘Never know. He might still have some in the bank,’ Harvey said. ‘He’ll go higher if he wants it enough. Everything is for sale eventually. But he’s already raised the bar for prices on Chalk Hill Bridge Road, whatever happens with this one.’
Ella studied the offer again and chewed the inside of her bottom lip. ‘Okay, I’ll present it to Jake, but I have to see Irene Loveday and her friends first.’
‘Rene Loveday? Watcha doing around there?’ Bob asked with interest. ‘I play bowls with Perry, Rene’s other half.’
‘I saw her in the street the other day when she was walking her dog. She asked if I’d come around and have morning tea.’ Ella smiled at Bob; he really wasn’t so bad. ‘She said I could appraise her house, and her neighbours’, for practice.’
‘Lilac Hill Loop
, hey?’ Bob said, clicking something on his computer and scrolling up the screen. ‘I thought Lilac Hill was one of my streets.’
Ella’s newfound fondness for Bob dropped like a stone. ‘No. Lilac Hill Loop? I’m sure it’s mine, Bob.’
‘Dad? Lilac Hill Loop. Did you give that to Ella?’
Harvey Begg cleared his throat. ‘Lemme check.’
Ella stood in the corridor, shifting as if she was barefoot and the carpet was too hot. Harvey took forever to call out, ‘Lilac Hill is Ella’s street. Says so in the leads folder on the server.’
The weight in her tummy lifted. ‘Thank goodness. I thought I might have done the wrong thing,’ she said to Bob.
He didn’t look up.
And Ella thought maybe her first impression of Bob had been right all along. He was a controlling arsehole who’d hang on to every contact and every client and never let a damn one of them go.
* * *
Irene, Sally and Loraine had gone all out on morning tea. There were savoury mini quiches, the most amazing scones with jam and cream (that Sally whipped in front of the three of them with a hand-held whisk) and Loraine’s apple and cinnamon teacake with a sweet treacle topping that stole the show. Wisely though, given the way the three women watched her savour each mouthful as if she were about to pronounce a winner on The Great British Bake Off, she didn’t nominate her favourite.
‘I won’t need lunch or dinner,’ she said, pushing her plate away.
They had, by now, been all through Irene’s home, then to Loraine’s house (two doors up on Irene’s right) and finally to Sally’s house on Irene’s immediate left. Ella had nodded appreciatively at Sally’s sparkling below-ground pool and at Loraine’s particularly lush and abundant fernery, set right alongside their outdoor alfresco. Loraine had offered to pot her up an offshoot of a birds-nest fern she’d openly admired, and Ella had thanked her, but said it would be best to wait until Ella had found a house of her own.
Oh, did that start a conversation!
‘You’re renting, Ella? We thought you would have bought here by now. Don’t you want to stay for good?’ Sally wanted to know.
‘It’s okay to rent when she’s still getting settled in,’ Irene defended.
‘But if people don’t think she’ll stick around, they won’t give her a chance now, will they?’ Sally said.
‘I would like to buy here,’ Ella said, putting her empty coffee cup near her empty cake plate. ‘I need to get my finances in order first, though. That’s the main thing.’
All three women nodded, before Sally said, ‘It must be hard on your own.’
The conversation stopped and Ella realised they were all waiting for her to fill the next bit in. ‘Oh, well, I’ll be okay. I’m not lining up for welfare quite yet.’
‘Not like most young people today,’ Irene said, and the other women nodded.
‘It’s the Kiwis,’ Sally said. ‘They’ve got all the jobs.’
‘It can’t all be the Kiwis’ fault,’ Ella said, feeling sorry for all the Chalk Hill New Zealanders she hadn’t met. ‘They make great wine. We’ve got to give them that. I’d love to visit New Zealand one day.’
‘My son and his wife did a camping trip around the South Island last year,’ Loraine said, and that got them all talking about holidays and caravan trips, and Ella was glad it at least gave the New Zealanders a break.
‘We heard from Valerie Honeychurch the other day. They’re in northern New South Wales now, heading up towards Byron Bay. Said they’re having a great time, but she’d been feeling a bit tired with all the travel, poor thing. I think she was ready for a bit of a break.’
‘Is that Jake’s parents?’ Ella asked.
‘Yes, love,’ Rene said.
‘My husband Lester works at Honeychurch Hardware. He’s been there for years,’ Sally said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, cupping her chin in her palms. ‘Now there’s someone who would be perfect for you, Ella.’
For a moment, Ella thought Sally was talking about Lester and she nearly coughed up her treacle teacake. Then she realised they were talking about Jake, and that was almost worse. These three old dears were trying to matchmake her with Jake. Could the old biddies read her mind? Was she that transparent?
‘You should’ve seen Jake’s dad in the old days,’ Irene said, widening her eyes. ‘Oh, the stories we could tell you.’
The other three ladies nodded.
‘At the town dances … he could waltz like nobody’s business. He was a wonderful dancer. Every girl there would be happy if Stan Honeychurch asked to take her home.’
‘Spun across the floor, spun out the door,’ Sally said.
They’d gone quite dreamy. It was very cute.
‘Not that we did go home with him, of course!’ Irene laughed. ‘And I was happy when I found Perry.’
‘And me with Les,’ said Sally.
‘And Val and Stan have had a wonderful life together, raising those three boys,’ said Loraine.
The ladies nodded again, and Ella sensed an opening. ‘What do you know about the other two boys? Jake’s brothers?’
‘Brix and Abe?’ Irene said, lines creasing her brow momentarily as she hunted through her memory for the names. ‘They’re good boys. That Abe was a bit of a problem child, but they’re good kids.’
‘They don’t work on the farm?’ Ella probed. ‘The farm got left to Jake? And the hardware shop?’
‘Abe was never interested in the shop,’ Sally said. ‘Or the farm. Not really. He owns all these restaurants now. That Tap Ass fancy stuff.’
‘Tapas, Sally,’ Loraine said.
‘Whatever.’ Sally waved her hand. ‘He’s done real well for himself.’
‘And Brix studied winemaking in South Australia. He works over Margaret River way these days,’ Irene added.
‘It’s an unusual name,’ Ella said.
‘Braxton, he was named, but it became Brax pretty quick,’ Loraine said. ‘Then it’s something to do with winemaking … I’m not sure, it was all way over my head.’
‘Brix is a measure of something in wine,’ Irene supplied. ‘Sugar or something. That’s how the nickname stuck. People round here have been calling him Brix for years.’
‘I get it,’ Ella said.
‘None of them married, far as I know,’ Sally said, glancing pointedly at Ella’s left hand.
Irene smiled, and all three of the ladies nodded.
Ella pulled her feet together, got them under herself and felt her own wry smile messing with her lips. ‘Thank you for morning tea, ladies. It’s been brilliant appraisal practice and most enlightening.’
‘Our pleasure,’ Irene said.
‘I’ll give some thought to your properties when I’m back at the office and I’ll write to you, okay? Now that I’ve been out here I might as well do the whole thing properly, even if you aren’t moving anywhere. Do you use email?’
‘We sure do. We did the course.’
Sally giggled. ‘The Hotmail course. Get it? H-O-T M-A-L-E.’
The ladies broke into more giggles, making Ella wonder whether they’d been sprinkling anything stronger than sugar into their tea. Irene walked her to the front door and, as Ella wished her goodbye, she was certain she heard the other two ladies comparing Jake’s dad in Fox Trot and Quick Step.
‘No one could trot like that fox,’ Irene called back over her shoulder towards the two women in her kitchen.
‘You ladies are terrible,’ Ella said, but it was impossible to hide her smile.
‘We try, love. We try,’ Irene said, clasping Ella’s hand in both of her warm plump palms before letting go. ‘Now you go sell a house so you earn some money, okay? We want you to stay, and Margaret Begg says Harvey’s been talking about opening up the old town pool so you can give the kids swimming lessons. I don’t care much about swimming but when they do this knee they said swimming would be perfect exercise so I’m all for you opening the pool.’
‘Couldn’t yo
u just go jump in Sally’s pool?’ Ella asked.
‘Oh, love. She keeps the cover on it most of the time to stop the leaves blowing in. And Les reckons the only time he ever gets lucky—other than on his birthday—is when he offers to clean the pool.’
‘So if the cover was off the pool more, Les would be all for it?’
‘Poor bloke would have a heart attack. He couldn’t keep up with all that good fortune,’ Irene winked.
‘I heard that, Irene Loveday,’ Sally yelled from inside.
CHAPTER
21
‘Ella’s here to see you again, Jake,’ Jenny said, with a certain cheeky female emphasis on again, and Jake told her to send Ella on through and sat back in his office chair, closing out of the quarterly sales report he’d been reading on his laptop.
She was later today. It was almost twelve. He’d thought Henry Graham must have given up.
Jake pushed up from the chair, got a sudden thought as he did so and raced out into the garden centre.
‘Can I borrow these? Ta,’ he said to Lisa, plucking her secateurs from her hand and racing off towards the native section, madly casting his eye up and down the lane.
Lisa followed him, arms folded, a look on her face that said she knew exactly what he was doing.
‘This one, Romeo,’ she said.
Jake spun around to see where she was pointing.
‘That’ll do,’ he said.
‘That’ll do? That’ll do?’ Lisa scolded, ripping the secateurs from him and snipping off a long stem. ‘This is perfect.’
She handed it to him and he admired the single spun-silver-white spidery flower at the top of a long, strong woody stem. Automatically, he sniffed it.
‘It’s a grevillea, Jake, you dummy. You won’t smell much.’