Time Will Tell

by Fiona McCallum

  God, she really hoped it wouldn’t affect any business relationship with David. An SES call-out. Emily wondered what had happened; how serious it was; who was involved.

  She shivered slightly. Someone else had died; she just knew it. And she was bound to know them; you always did, living in such a small place.

  Why hadn’t Barbara called again later, using that nugget of gossip as an excuse? Emily checked her voicemail. Nothing. There was a missed call from Jake, but no message.

  Should I call Barbara?

  No. That would be giving in, and it was too soon for that. Anyway, they’d been in each other’s lives so much lately it was probably good to have some time apart. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a whole heap of stuff to deal with at the moment.

  No, it’s probably all for the best, she concluded.

  Emily poured hot water into her mug, unable to shake the hollow feeling. She went back to her bedroom, sat in bed propped up by pillows sipping her coffee, feeling anything but relaxed. There was so much to do; she should just get up. Anyway, David was bound to turn up this morning with the papers.

  She got up and got dressed. Back in the kitchen she got out a pad of paper and a pen, and began writing down everything she had to do for the Bakers’ house – my house, she thought with a smile – and to settle John’s estate; breaking down everything into small, individual tasks.

  She’d go to Mitre 10 this week and look for tiles, taps and basins. It was too soon to be hunting for finishes, but it was what she felt like doing – and she had the gift card from her parents to put towards it.

  It’s finally happening, she thought, with her pen poised against her lip.

  As soon as the estate was settled she’d have plenty of money in the bank, and a whole heap more when John’s life insurance paid out. Fingers crossed Gerald and Thora don’t object. The surveyors had been and surveyed. When the subdivision went through, she would be able to pay the Bakers’ first instalment and sign the contract for the purchase. Then she could get the house plans finalised.

  I will use Jake. Forget the money; he deserves the job after all the work he’s done.

  He would remain professional, wouldn’t he? Yes, absolutely. Nothing to worry about there.

  The thought of calling him made Emily feel a little queasy. Why couldn’t she be feeling jittery and nervous about calling him after a weekend of passion? Why couldn’t it have been like that?

  No, she thought, returning to her list, she could probably submit the plans to council as they were and then see if they needed more information later. That step was a little way off anyway. Meanwhile she’d go shopping for fixtures and fittings. That would be fun – just what she needed right now.

  Emily was still engrossed in her list when she heard a banging on the front door, and then David’s voice calling her name.

  She opened the door and called an automatic bright, ‘Hi David,’ before she’d fully seen him. His bland ‘hi’ in return caused her to study him more closely. He looked terrible; tired and pale.

  ‘God, David, have you been up all night?’

  ‘Yeah. Can I come in?’

  ‘Sorry, yes, of course.’ She stepped aside and shut the door behind him, and then strode down towards the kitchen.

  ‘Have a seat. Coffee?’

  ‘Please.’ He slapped the yellow manila folder he’d been holding on the table, dragged a chair out, and sat down heavily with a sigh.

  ‘No offence, David, but you look like shit,’ Emily said with a laugh as she put a mug in front of him.

  ‘I hear you and Barbara have had a tiff,’ he said, taking a sip and meeting her gaze over the rim of his cup.

  Emily looked away. ‘Sort of,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Oh well, not for me to get in the middle of, except to say Barbara’s pretty upset about it.’

  ‘Hmm. So what was the SES call-out last night?’

  ‘Oh my God, you don’t know. I thought Barbara would have told you.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Trevor and Donald Baker – they died yesterday.’

  ‘Both of them?’

  David nodded. ‘Tragic accident; should never have happened,’ he said, shaking his head slowly.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Trevor was feeding the sheep a round bale of hay and somehow managed to roll the tractor over onto himself. It looks like he hit a greasy patch of dirt on the side of the hill and the weight of the bale on the front caused it to topple over. If only they’d put a rollover protection cage on…’ Again he shook his head.

  ‘So what happened to Donald?’

  ‘They think he had a heart attack. It looked like he’d been trying to pull Trevor out. He was lying nearby.’

  ‘Oh God; that’s awful.’

  Will this affect the house?

  It was awful that this should be her next thought. Donald and Trevor are dead, and all I can think about is the roof over my head.

  But she had their approval for the subdivision, and they had agreed on the price and instalments once that was done. It should be fine.

  ‘Poor Gary Smith is pretty shaken up – he found them. I don’t think that’s something you ever get over,’ he said. ‘It won’t affect you buying this place, will it? You’ve got everything in writing, right?’

  ‘It should be fine,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers.

  ‘Well I guess that’s something.’

  ‘They were such nice men – bit gruff when you first met them, but hearts of gold really. They were so good to let me move in here when I was so desperate. They were going to take a holiday to Ireland with the money from the first instalment,’ she said. ‘I guess that won’t be happening now,’ she added, pointlessly.

  ‘I’m sure they were really pleased to know you were going to do the place up.’

  Emily studied her mug. She felt really sad that they wouldn’t get to see the house in all its glory.

  ‘So where are you at with it all?’

  ‘Surveyors were here yesterday,’ she said, without enthusiasm.

  ‘And Jake too, I hear,’ David said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Where is he anyway? Barbara said he looked quite settled when she dropped by. You didn’t have a tiff with him as well, did you?’

  ‘He got called back to Melbourne – not sure what the story is.’ She spoke quietly, and avoided looking David in the eye. ‘So that’s the paperwork for the lease then?’ she asked, pointing towards the folder. She was grateful for the opportunity to change the subject.

  ‘Yes.’ David dragged the folder towards him, pulled out two stapled documents. He then went through each page, explaining the terms. ‘We can discuss the sheep once you’ve spoken to Gerald and add a clause about them if necessary. I’d be happy to take them on. Or not. It’s entirely up to you.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ Oh God, Gerald and Thora. Right after the funeral. Her heart raced with nerves, causing her to shift in her chair. She took a deep breath and told herself to focus on one thing at a time.

  Beyond the mention of a thirty-five-thousand-dollar fee per year for use of the land, not much else made sense to Emily. The sensible thing would be to get a lawyer to take a look over it – or at least an objective third party. And Gerald.

  She hesitated. How much did John make from the land? More than thirty-five grand, surely. But do I really want to quibble with friends over a few thousand dollars? What’s important is that someone takes over and a whole year of productivity isn’t lost.

  And David would do the right thing by her – they were friends, he and Barbara. Their little tiff was just that, and would soon blow over.

  ‘I’ll leave this with you to look over. Give me a call when you know what you want to do about the sheep.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’

  Damn sheep, Emily thought. She really would have liked to have had this totally dealt with and off her radar.

  ‘Well, I’d better be off,’ he said, and got up.

  They made their way down the
hall to the front door.

  ‘Ring Barbara, Em. Don’t let this fester too long,’ he said, on the threshold.

  Emily nodded to appease him, though she had no intention of calling Barbara – at least not today.

  I’m not the one who needs to apologise. She’s the one who spoke to Jake behind my back.

  ‘And you go and get some sleep,’ she said, hugging him tightly.

  Back inside, she sank onto the kitchen chair. A potential big problem had been dealt with – well almost. What a huge relief. The next big item on her to do list was to go to the bank and sort out being a signatory to John’s accounts. She felt a little uneasy about setting foot into the bank after the last time. And seeing Nathan Lucas again. But it had to be done. I wonder if he’s found anywhere to live yet. Perhaps he might like to rent the farmhouse.

  She thought of poor Trevor and Donald, how she’d barely known them, and how kind they had been. She would be forever grateful to them for allowing her to stay in the old house in her time of need.

  They had been another saving grace. She smiled sadly at the small black and white border collie lying in the corner.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  With nothing much else to do, Emily decided to spend the New Year’s public holiday Monday cleaning the house. She hoped the noise of the vacuum cleaner would take her mind off Jake and Barbara, and distract her from brooding about John’s funeral the next day. She had just unplugged the machine after doing her bedroom and was about to drag it down to the lounge room when she heard a knock on the glass beside the front door.

  I must get a proper knocker before someone puts their hand through the leadlight, she thought, as she made her way out into the hall.

  Who was it anyway? Barbara? Her heart rate quickened. No, the tentative knock wasn’t really her. Though it might be now things were different between them.

  Emily opened the door to find Tara Wickham standing there. Donald and Trevor’s relative, the financial planner.

  ‘Oh. Hello. Tara, I’m so…’

  Emily stopped herself. She’d been about to say, ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ But it suddenly dawned on her that while Tara didn’t look comfortable, she didn’t look particularly grief-stricken. What if she didn’t know about the Bakers’ deaths? Emily thought it highly unlikely; it had happened two days ago. But she wasn’t about to make things more awkward than they had to be. As practically a complete stranger, it was certainly not her place to tell her.

  What did Tara want? Had she run out of petrol or something? She couldn’t be there on professional business, because Emily had made it clear during her previous visit that she wasn’t interested. Well, Jake had on her behalf. Please don’t tell me she wants a shoulder to cry on because we’ve met once before. No, surely not.

  Tara had turned up out of the blue a couple of weeks before Christmas – during Jake’s first visit with her cousin Elizabeth – claiming that she was lost and was looking for her cousins’ house. Emily remembered how taken aback she’d been, catching the woman looking the house up and down as she’d made her way down the hall and into the kitchen. She’d had a bad vibe about her and she now felt her hackles rise again.

  ‘It’s Emily, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Emily said, holding out her hand. She tried to replace her frown of annoyance with a warm, welcoming smile.

  Tara seemed a little reluctant to take the proffered hand.

  ‘What can I do for you? I don’t have any need for a financial planner,’ Emily said. It was a bit blunt of her, but no point everyone’s time being wasted with a spiel.

  ‘I’m not here on business.’

  It was only then that Emily noticed Tara was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt and remembered that it was actually a public holiday.

  So why the hell is she standing there looking my house up and down, running her fingers over the paint on my door surround?

  ‘So what can I do for you?’

  If Tara was there for a cup of tea and an attempt to become her new best friend she’d be sorely disappointed. She might get a cup of tea, but only because Emily had been so well trained.

  ‘May I come in please?’ Tara asked.

  ‘Well, I really don’t see the point. As I’ve said…’

  ‘It’s about this house.’

  ‘What about it?’ Emily stood her ground.

  ‘Donald and Trevor Baker were my cousins. I’m sure you’ve heard about their sudden deaths.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m the executor and main beneficiary. I’ve inherited this house as part of their estate. I’m here to talk about it.’

  ‘Oh, but…’

  Emily felt the blood drain from her face and her arms go cold. There must be some mistake. Of course this woman was mistaken; didn’t know about Emily’s arrangement with Donald and Trevor. If she’s the executor of their wills, of course we have to talk about it. She relaxed slightly.

  ‘I think there’s been a bit of a mix-up. I had – I have – an agreement with them to buy this house and twenty acres around it. The surveyors were here on Saturday.’

  ‘Of course I’ll reimburse you for anything you’ve spent so far…’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. We had an agreement…’

  ‘So you said. But their wills make no mention of it.’

  ‘Well, there’s a handwritten offer with their signatures.’ Oh God, why didn’t I go out and sign it myself?

  ‘I know. I’ve seen it. But my solicitor tells me it’s not legally binding. Not, er, worth the paper it’s written on, I’m afraid.’

  She’s managed to speak to a solicitor on a public holiday weekend? On the New Year public holiday weekend? Seriously!?

  Tara was now smirking. ‘So do you think I can come in now?’

  Stunned, Emily reluctantly stepped aside. As she followed her down the hall, she noticed Tara appraising the house as she went, just like last time. She wanted to tell her to stop it; it was rude.

  Emily motioned for her to sit and took her own seat. There was no way she was going to offer her tea or coffee. She’d hear her out, though. Maybe Tara would still sell her the house.

  ‘You’ve really made yourself at home since I was here last,’ Tara said, looking around the room and taking in the crystal glinting behind the glass cupboard doors. The slight sneer to her mouth told Emily the words, ‘I don’t see why’ weren’t far from her lips.

  ‘Yes, I love the house. As did your cousins,’ she added, but not sure really why she’d felt the need.

  ‘If it meant that much they would have been living here themselves, or at least not let it get into such a dilapidated state.’

  Two fair points, Emily had to concede. ‘So are you planning to live here yourself?’ she asked.

  ‘God no! Not nearly salubrious enough for me! No, I’m going to put the farm up for sale – in its entirety.’

  Emily felt her dream collapsing like a house of cards in front of her. It wasn’t fair; just when everything was finally starting to go right again.

  Grace chose that moment to let out a loud yawn. Tara glared at the dog with undisguised loathing. Emily wanted to throw her out right then and there, but it seemed she was the trespasser now.

  Should she be getting a solicitor’s opinion of her own? Probably, but she didn’t know one she could just call, especially on a long weekend.

  ‘But what’s your objection to me having the house and twenty acres?’

  ‘No objection,’ Tara said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘You can take it up with the new owners in due course.’

  Emily could see there was no point trying to reason – she’d clearly made up her mind.

  ‘You’ll need to be out by Friday – Saturday morning at the absolute latest.’

  Four days!? Oh Christ! ‘And if I’m not?’

  ‘And if you’re not, I’ll have the police arrest you for trespass, squatting, whatever,’ Tara said with a dismissive wave. ‘I’m sure the folks of Wattle Creek wo
uld love to see you paraded through in handcuffs.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. If you’re selling the place, why can’t I just stay until the new owners make a decision? It might take ages to sell. I’m still paying rent.’

  ‘Do you really want to know?’ Tara got a strange look on her face.

  No. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because I don’t like you.’

  And there it was. Emily stood there opening and shutting her mouth like a goldfish feeding. You’re throwing me out because you don’t like me?

  ‘Well, I’d better keep going – see you,’ Tara said brightly, leaving the room. ‘No need to see me out; I can find my own way.’

  Emily shuddered as the front door slammed. She waited until she heard the car leave before making her way down the hall to her bedroom and throwing herself on the bed.

  She rolled over and stared at the button jar. She itched to pick it up, ask it to give her some advice. But she resisted the urge.

  What advice was there? ‘Suck it up, princess, the dream is over?’ Not quite one of Gran’s quotes, but it was about right. She almost snorted. All of these quotes and relying on the universe to make everything all right was a load of crap. Look where it had got her. She was back almost exactly where she’d started.

  Bloody Barbara and Jake and their bloody advice! Grace hopped onto the bed, lay down beside her, and pushed her head under Emily’s chin. It was as if the dog was saying, ‘It’s okay, Mum. We’ll be okay.’ Emily wanted to cry, release some of the tension and helplessness she was feeling. But there were no tears, not even a lump forming in her throat. Instead her mind started trying to cut a path through all the debris.

  Jesus. What am I meant to do now?

  She considered phoning Barbara, but the thought was fleeting. It was up to Barbara to make the first move to repair their friendship. And anyway, she wasn’t sure she could bear Barbara saying, ‘Trust the universe, you’ll be fine,’ or something equally wishywashy. She felt the overwhelming urge to slap the next person who said that sort of bullshit to her.

  No, she’d better do something useful like start packing. Tara had clearly made up her mind and there was no point wasting energy trying to get her to change it.