Time Will Tell

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Hmm, I didn’t detect any disinterest from you earlier, young lady,’ he said, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘I actually have some bacon and some tomatoes if you fancy going the whole hog – so to speak. I decided to splurge a little bit, since I might not be quite so hard up now. I’m going to treat myself to bacon and eggs on weekends.’

  ‘Lucky for me I’m here on a Saturday.’

  ‘I would have made an exception for you anyway, you know. To prove I can be a little flexible and spontaneous.’

  ‘You don’t need to prove anything to me. I had a little taste of your spontaneity half an hour ago, and I’m hoping to put your flexibility to the test in the not too distant future.’

  ‘Oh very funny,’ Emily said, pouting. ‘I meant…’

  ‘I know what you meant.’

  Suddenly he was pulling her to him and putting his lips to hers. Emily’s groin began humming as his tongue probed between her lips and found hers. When they pulled apart a few minutes later they were gasping for air.

  ‘Hmm, I’m way out of practice; can’t seem to breathe and kiss,’ Jake said, giving her a final kiss and releasing her.

  Emily wondered just how out of practice he was. Had it been as long for him as it had been for her? John had long since stopped pretending that sex was anything beyond him getting his end in and relieving himself. Kissing had gone by the wayside around a year into their marriage. Emily hadn’t complained; gone was the intimacy, but so too were the stale cigarettes, beer breath, and stubble rash. And it certainly meant it was over with a lot quicker.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts, my darling,’ Jake said, running a hand gently through her hair.

  ‘Oh, nothing really.’ Emily fought for something innocuous to tell him but failed. She turned back to the bench and busied herself with making the coffee.

  ‘How ’bout you do the eggs and toast and I’ll do the bacon and tomatoes,’ Jake said. ‘Team effort.’

  ‘Okay, but I’m not used to cooking with someone else, so I might get bossy or crotchety or something.’

  ‘I consider myself duly warned. But I do want to pull my weight. I’m not having you doing everything.’

  As they worked on their separate tasks, Emily and Jake moved around each other and the kitchen like dancers performing a ballet. Occasionally they would meet at the bench or stove. At those times they would look at each other and smile.

  ‘I take it you and John didn’t cook together,’ Jake said at one point.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ever?’

  ‘No. Not together. At home he considered it the woman’s job to cook, and out camping, the man’s. Just old-fashioned I guess,’ she added with a shrug, feeling guilty for getting so close to speaking ill of the dead.

  ‘Did you love him?’

  Emily stiffened, and continued staring at the eggs in the pan.

  ‘I must have; I married him.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you putting up with being taken for granted.’

  Emily wanted to say, ‘Well I did,’ but instead said, ‘Can we please not talk about this?’

  ‘Okay, sorry. I can get a bit nosy. This bacon’s done. Do you have some paper towel to drain it on?’

  ‘Middle shelf of the pantry. Around my chest height and to the right.’

  After lingering over breakfast, they cleared the table in silence; a couple of times Emily looked across at Jake, marvelling at how well he just seemed to slot into her house and routine.

  When she started the dishes he appeared beside her, put his arm around her shoulder, pulled her to him and pecked her on the lips, and then grabbed the nearest tea towel. He then leant with both elbows on the bench, staring out of the window while Emily got things organised in the sink.

  ‘It’s such a lovely spot,’ he said.

  ‘Hmm,’ Emily agreed.

  ‘Hey, look,’ he suddenly said. ‘You’re being surveyed.’ He raised a hand in greeting at the man walking past, dressed in high-visibility work wear, and carrying a large yellow tripod. The man gave an energetic wave back. ‘I still can’t believe they’re here on a Saturday, and on New Year’s Day, for goodness sake!’

  ‘All thanks to your friend, Anthony. It was today or wait for months. No rest for some.’ Emily felt a little overwhelmed. Finally, a major step in her grand plan was actually taking place. It was a sign her life was really getting better. Wow, it’s really happening, and fast, she thought, feeling like tears would well up if she dwelled on it for much longer. And then Jake was at her side, holding her close. Had she spoken her fears aloud?

  ‘It’s probably pretty overwhelming for you to see your dream finally starting to take shape – especially after the rough trot you’ve had,’ he said, holding her tight to him.

  Emily nodded against his chest. It felt so good to be held. ‘It is a bit.’ It was sort of the truth. But what was really overwhelming her was the thought of coming clean with John’s parents after the funeral and potentially having the dream snatched away again.

  ‘Well, let’s get these dishes done and have another cuppa. I’d suggest champagne to celebrate, but it’s still a bit early for that.’

  Emily resumed scrubbing dishes while Jake chattered about the various projects his company was working on. She loved how animated he was – a clear sign of his passion – but after a while she found herself shutting out his voice and thinking about her own things.

  She wondered how long it would take to hear from the lawyers about John’s estate. Should she phone and see where things stood? No, that would make her appear greedy. She’d find out soon enough. When she was meant to. Time will tell.

  Emily forced John from her mind and was annoyed to find thoughts of her mother taking over. Other than the very brief birthday message she’d left yesterday, Emily hadn’t heard from her since their argument on Thursday night. It was probably a good thing.

  Her father had mentioned a new hobby – making batches of jam for the local show in a few months. Emily wondered if her new interest had something to do with her own jam being well-received in Melbourne. If not, it was one hell of a coincid-ence. Enid Oliphant, despite having a mother who excelled in the culinary crafts, had never shown a bit of interest in following in Gran’s footsteps. Until now, it seemed.

  It had taken a long time for Emily to connect the dots and see the competitive streak her mother seemed to have fostered towards her. She hadn’t given it much thought until recently, when Barbara pointed out that Enid had had her hair cut in a very similar style to Emily’s. It was only a few weeks after Barbara had cut her straight shoulder-length mouse-brown hair into a neat bob.

  Emily wasn’t usually all that fussed about appearances – hers or those of others – beyond looking tidy. And as her mother’s hair was grey, she hadn’t grasped the similarities as quickly. But having once been a hairdresser, Barbara was more observant, and as soon as she mentioned it, Emily could see it too.

  Even so, she had tried to brush it off as coincidence. But Barbara, determined to prove her point, had added that Enid’s hair was also that bit shorter at the back, like Barbara had done Emily’s. At hearing that, she’d felt a dawning of realisation, and a whole lot of things that had happened over the years suddenly made sense.

  Barbara had gone on to explain that she thought all the quizzing her mother did over her life showed that Enid was very insecure about how independent Emily was. Emily had laughed at that and reminded her friend what a mess her life was in since she’d left John. To which Barbara had said that that in itself showed strength.

  It was funny how people saw things in completely different ways. When Emily left John, she had half hoped he would come after her, apologise profusely, promise to change his ways, and beg her to come home. Where was the strength in that? But when she’d tried to explain, Barbara had said the strength lay in not going back to him when things were tough – not giving in. Emily thought that was more about stubbornness and pride than strength.

  ‘There you
go again, off in your own little world,’ Jake said, cutting into her reverie.

  Emily realised she was staring out the window and hadn’t washed anything for goodness only knew how long. The drainer was empty and so were Jake’s hands.

  ‘Oh, just thinking about life, you know,’ she said with a shrug. ‘The way things change.’

  ‘Far too deep and heavy,’ Jake said with a laugh. They stood side by side for a few moments, looking out the window. The two surveyors were now walking up the hill beyond the shearing shed.

  Emily ran her hands around the bottom of the suds-filled sink and was surprised to find it empty. She couldn’t even remember washing the cutlery. All that was left were the two frying pans, which she’d leave to soak for a while.

  ‘More coffee?’ Jake said, turning away from the window.

  ‘Hmm, thanks.’ Emily felt slightly dazed as she left Jake to the coffee-making and sat at the table.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said a few moments later, putting a mug down in front of her. ‘You look a little pale.’

  ‘I’m okay. I just feel a bit weird.’

  ‘Sick?’

  ‘No, a bit out of kilter – you know, just odd.’

  ‘Probably because all this is finally becoming very real,’ Jake said, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. ‘Totally understandable – it’s a pretty big thing. Not to mention me turning up out of the blue.’

  ‘Hmm. I guess that must be it. But it is great to have you here.’

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  About an hour later they were at the table discussing the plans when they heard Barbara’s voice echoing down the hall.

  ‘Yoo-hoo! Em, are you home?’ The rain had stopped to reveal a perfect cool summer day. Emily had left the front door open after Jake had arrived to air the house.

  ‘Coming!’

  Grace bounded out of the kitchen and into the hall, skidding slightly as she took the corner too fast. Emily skipped after her, and Jake loped along behind.

  ‘So what are you doing here?’ Emily asked after they’d all exchanged more New Year greetings and hugs. As she suspected, Barbara didn’t seem at all surprised to see Jake, and Emily thought she caught a look pass between them. Again she felt a slight niggling of jealousy and unease that they had been talking behind her back. She blinked away a frown and returned her attention to Barbara.

  ‘Bernice at the post office thought this looked important,’ Barbara said, dragging a thick, long and narrow business envelope out of her handbag and handing it to Emily. In the top left corner were the logo and address details of the law firm who had done Emily and John’s wills.

  ‘Why was she open on New Year’s day?’

  ‘She wasn’t. I bumped into her in the street and she asked if you were with me or in town. When I asked why, she said that something had come in for you late yesterday. Lucky I’ve got the spare key to your box in my handbag!’

  ‘That was very good of her,’ Emily muttered, staring at the article and turning it over in her hands a couple of times. Her heart began to race. She took a deep breath before sliding her nail under the seal.

  ‘Ah the quaint ways of the country, where everyone knows everyone,’ Jake said, shaking his head. ‘Anyway, how about we do this inside rather than at the front door. Barbara, would you like to come in for a coffee?’

  ‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry, yes, come in. I didn’t mean to keep you standing there.’

  ‘Well, I can’t actually stay for long, but a cuppa would be nice, thanks.’

  They trooped down the hall and into the kitchen, Grace leading the way and Emily straggling at the back, consumed with dread over what news the envelope might contain. She sat down while Jake and Barbara stood together at the sink – an obvious ploy to give her space. She stared at the envelope as though it were some foreign object she’d never seen before.

  ‘So, what does it say?’ Barbara asked a few minutes later, taking the chair beside her.

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Come on, you can’t put it off forever. And anyway, it can only be good news, can’t it?’

  ‘Hmm, I think so.’ Lawyers don’t write to tell you you aren’t a beneficiary, do they?

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ Jake said.

  ‘Scared, I guess.’

  ‘Of what?!’ Barbara and Jake cried at the same time.

  Emily shrugged. How was she supposed to tell them that she was scared of more change? That she’d gone through too much already. Yes, she might soon have John’s money to do the renovation, but what if the letter said she had to sell the farm, dispose of all the machinery and stock? What if there was a huge tax bill or something she didn’t know about? And then there were his parents… She didn’t think she had the capacity to deal with anything else right now.

  Even the thought of going ahead with the renovation was starting to feel like too much, made all too real by the sight of the two surveyors wandering around. If only I could just find a normal job, and have a simple life for a while.

  Well, she could put the renovation on hold, she supposed, but it would be just putting off the inevitable; she couldn’t live like this forever. It was one of those no pain, no gain scenarios.

  Emily felt exhausted just thinking about it. Her life was too damned complicated. Bloody John. That’s why she’d married him in the first place – to have a nice simple life as a farmer’s wife. But then he had to ruin everything by turning out to be a complete prick! Bastard.

  Emily ripped open the envelope with such force it almost tore in two. Jake and Barbara exchanged concerned glances.

  ‘Right,’ she said, trying to flatten out the wad of papers on the table. She quickly flicked through the pages, scanning their contents. But the legal speak meant she had to go back to the start and read slower in order to fully understand their meaning.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, as she read the second page.

  ‘What?’ Jake and Barbara said.

  ‘No. How the hell am I meant to…?’ Emily muttered.

  ‘What?’ said Jake.

  ‘What does it say?’ said Barbara.

  ‘Are you going to tell us or just have us die of curiosity?’ Jake asked.

  Emily read silently for another minute, then looked up and glanced from Jake to Barbara and back again. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, her brain spinning too much to formulate words. She tried again.

  ‘According to this, I’m John’s executor, and the sole beneficiary of his will,’ she finally said.

  ‘But that’s good news isn’t it?’ Jake said, clearly confused.

  ‘Yes it is,’ Barbara said, ‘Emily here just hasn’t figured that out yet.’

  ‘We were separated – I’m sure the last thing John would have wanted was me owning everything.’

  ‘Well, then he should have changed his will,’ Jake said.

  ‘Or at least told his parents,’ Emily muttered, barely audibly.

  ‘What about his parents?’

  ‘They apparently hadn’t caught up with the separation,’ Barbara said.

  ‘But how could they not if everyone around here knows every-one’s business?’

  ‘That is the question of the century,’ Barbara said. ‘Emily is going to tell them after the funeral, when things settle down a bit.’

  ‘I just couldn’t bring myself to tell them straight after John’s death. They’d already lost John, and I didn’t want to hurt them even more. But it’s going to look really bad now that I’m sole beneficiary – they’ll think I did it because of the money. Do you think they might contest the will?’

  ‘I can’t imagine anyone contesting a will unless they were really hard up financially,’ Jake said thoughtfully. ‘Most people wouldn’t want to bother with the trauma of it, not to mention the cost involved.’

  ‘Well, until I come clean about the separation, I won’t know what they think. And I can’t do that yet. Meanwhile, I’m going to be responsible for settling his affairs. I’m going to h
ave to run the farm, pay his bills, sort everything out. What the hell do I know about running a farm?’

  ‘No one says you have to actually run it, silly,’ Barbara said. ‘You could sell it.’

  ‘I can’t sell it until I know whether it’s part of the estate – or whether it’s still part of the family company. Oh God, it’s doing my head in already,’ Emily said, putting a hand to her brow.

  ‘Actually, David is looking for a bit more land. Maybe he could take a short-term lease,’ Barbara said with a shrug, looking a little sheepish.

  ‘Really? God, that would be a weight off my mind.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you just leave it for a while until you decide what you want to do?’ Jake asked, looking from Emily to Barbara.

  ‘Weeds mainly,’ Barbara explained. ‘If they’re not kept on top of they’ll take over and be twice as bad the following year. And they’re worse than usual, thanks to all the summer rain we’ve had. Whoever crops it will have to think about rotation, what crops where et cetera. And the stock will need to be drenched, not just checked. Even though seeding won’t be for a few months, there’s still heaps to do over summer,’ she concluded.

  ‘Oh, I had no idea. I can see your reluctance now, Em. It sounds like an awful lot to deal with,’ Jake said.

  ‘Exactly.’ Emily said. Bloody John. Even after death he’s landed me in the shit.

  ‘So who’s doing all this at the moment?’ Jake said.

  ‘Well, it’s all been put on hold, which is fine for a week or two. John’s father has been keeping an eye on the sheep and the troughs.’

  ‘So why couldn’t he just take it over?’

  ‘It’s too far away from their main farm – too much travelling. It’s okay for checking the sheep once a week, but not really practical for bringing machinery back and forth for cropping.’

  ‘Which is why David is perfect – only around twenty minutes up the road from the far south-east corner of our place and going the back roads. Of course we’d do it all by the book – get a proper contract drawn up and everything.’