by Jacobs, Anna
‘Mum, for the millionth time, I don’t care about keeping a man interested. And anyway, I’ve been out with Grant a few times, haven’t I?’
Denise pulled a face. ‘That one’s no use to you. He’s been on the dole for months.’
‘He’s an artist.’
‘Exactly. It’s not possible to make a living as an artist. I told you that years ago and I was right. I don’t like to think of my taxes going to pay for lazy so-and-sos like him.’
‘He’s a brilliant artist and one day he’ll be famous. I envy him the freedom to pursue his dream. One day I’ll do the same.’
Denise let out an exaggerated sigh. ‘I thought you’d grow out of that art stuff, but you haven’t, have you?’
‘No. And I never will.’ Meriel stared steadily at her mother. ‘You should have let me study commercial art, at least.’
‘I did what I thought right at the time and I still think it was the best choice. You have a really good job and the wages you’re earning are far more than I get.’
‘And look how bored I am by that sort of work. I’d better warn you that I’m going to art classes at the local college next semester.’
‘You can have any hobby you want, especially now you’ve got your degree.’
Meriel sighed and gave up trying to discuss things. Her mother would never change. But Meriel hadn’t changed, either. She was still determined to make a future for herself in art. She didn’t know how she’d do it, but she would.
She’d stay at home, though, as long as Grandpop needed her.
* * * *
No one was surprised when Ben opted to study plant science and landscape design. In the first year at university in Sydney he met Sandy and that was it. The two of them were instantly inseparable, living together in the final year and getting married soon after they graduated, laughing at how poor they were.
They moved back to Queensland to live, because Sandy’s family came from there, too. He’d enjoyed Sydney, but it just wasn’t home. If there had been any way of making a living, he’d have gone back to York, in Western Australia, which still felt like home to him. But it was too small a place for what he and Sandy wanted to do.
A year later they set up a small landscaping business together in Brisbane. Ben did the design and the grunt work while Sandy did the paperwork and helped out with the lighter jobs.
‘We were going to have babies,’ he said ruefully as they worked through the accounts one evening – or rather Sandy worked through them and he explained what his scrawls meant and hunted for receipts.
‘We can have babies later, once the business is on its feet. How’s the new design going?’
He beamed at her. ‘I had a brilliant idea.’ By the time he’d finished explaining his design, it was time for bed.
* * * *
‘You should go away for a holiday, love,’ Grandpop said suddenly.
Meriel pulled a face. ‘I’d rather stay here and take you out for day trips.’
‘A week or two won’t hurt. You know I’m in remission after the latest course of treatment. Look, I saw this on line.’
He’d found a special offer on a package tour to Spain. It’d been raining so much lately she succumbed to the temptation.
She thoroughly enjoyed the warm climate and relaxed lifestyle, but wasn’t tempted into a holiday affair, even though there were two single guys on the trip who kept trying to chat her up. Her sketch book went with her everywhere and she enjoyed herself for months afterwards trying to re-capture the play of bright sunlight on water and frolicking bodies, in a series of paintings.
The experience gave her something else, a longing to live in a warmer climate. The sun was never that bright in England and the heat in Spain hadn’t bothered her as it had some people on the tour. For all her skin was fair, she hadn’t even got sunburned, just developed a light golden tan that looked great with her blond hair.
She came back with the knowledge that there was a whole world out there just waiting to be explored. But she couldn’t do it yet, not while Grandpop needed her.
* * * *
Two years later Ben and Sandy again postponed starting a family because they’d bought a run-down old house and were renovating it, splitting it into two halves for rental purposes.
‘I feel guilty making you work so hard,’ he said.
‘You don’t make me do anything. It’s my choice. I was the one who found the house and I want to have the security of rental properties behind us before I start having children. These houses will pay for themselves, you’ll see. Two more years and we’ll have our twins.’
A few months later they went to a fancy dinner at her uncle Rod’s invitation. He said they’d meet some useful people there who might like to use their landscaping services.
Ben was running late, so Sandy drove to the hotel on her own and he caught up with her there.
‘You look gorgeous tonight. I can’t wait to get you home,’ he whispered as they made their way out to their cars.
She smiled a promise as only Sandy could.
On the way home a four-wheel drive ran a set of red lights and smashed into Sandy’s car. Ben braked violently, flung the door open and ran towards the wreck, but she was unconscious and trapped.
‘I’ve already phoned for an ambulance,’ a stranger said.
‘Thanks. This is my wife.’
‘Tough.’
There was little Ben could do to help her and he stood in helpless agony, holding her hand through the broken window as he listened to a man groaning and cursing in the other vehicle.
It seemed a long time till the ambulance and police arrived, even longer before they managed to free Sandy from the wreckage.
Ben followed the ambulance to hospital, leaving his car in the first vacant parking bay and running headlong across to the casualty department. ‘My wife? She was just brought in after an accident.’
‘The doctors are examining her now. If I could just take some particulars?’
Impatiently he gave her the information, keeping an eye on the area behind big semi-transparent doors. ‘Can I go in to see her now?’
‘Better to wait till the doctor comes out.’
It seemed a long time until a man in a white coat came out of the rear area. The receptionist pointed Ben out to the doctor who beckoned him forward and led the way into a side room.
‘How is she?’ Ben asked.
There was silence then the doctor sighed and shook his head. ‘I’m afraid she didn’t make it, Mr Elless. She had massive chest injuries from the impact.’
His words didn’t make sense for a few moments and Ben frowned as he tried to sort through the information. Then it suddenly clicked and he felt anguish welling up in his chest. Sandy was dead! He’d lost her.
How could that be possible? It hurt so much, he could only wrap his arms round himself and rock.
‘Is there someone we can call for you?’
The doctor had to ask him twice before he remembered his mother’s phone number.
‘Can I see my wife?’
‘In a little while. We’re just tidying things up.’
‘Did the man who crashed into her survive?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he drunk?’
‘The police are dealing with that.’
‘He was drunk, wasn’t he?’
‘I can’t tell you that, Mr Elless.’
When his mother came into the room, she held out her arms and Ben let himself sob. She understood how he was feeling as no one else ever would.
It was only her strength that got him through the next few days, and the funeral passed in a distant blur.
‘It will get better, Ben darling,’ she said to him several times. ‘I promise you it will.’
‘Not for Sandy, it won’t.’
* * * *
Grandpop had a two-year remission. He and Meriel had some wonderful outings together now she had a car. Then the cancer came back and he started to go rapidly downhi
ll.
When he eventually died, her biggest comfort was that he had been more than ready to go.
He’d whispered to her from the hospital bed, ‘Don’t you grieve for me, lass. I’ve been selfish, I know, but I’m glad you stayed nearby till now. Afterwards, though, you go out and make something of your life. Get right away from here and follow that dream of yours. Keep it in focus and you’ll get there one day, I know you will.’
He didn’t say get away from your mother, but they both knew what he meant.
Meriel’s grief wasn’t as loud as her mother’s, but it was a loss so agonising she couldn’t see her way past it for a while.
* * * *
She applied to emigrate to Australia a few days after the funeral and was one of the lucky ones to be selected. It helped that she’d found herself a job in advance, because the senior partner of her firm knew someone in Western Australia and was prepared to give her a very warm recommendation.
‘You’ve an eye for anomalies in business accounts,’ he said. ‘That’s why I spoke up for you, though really you should do more studying and qualify as a forensic accountant.’
‘I don’t want to go down that path.’
He cocked his head on one side. ‘Still doing your painting?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well, don’t let me down in Australia, now.’
‘I won’t, Mr Grimes.’
She waited until everything was arranged before announcing her plans to her mother. ‘I’m going to live in Australia, Mum. I’ve got a job there.’
‘I don’t think much of that for a joke.’
‘It isn’t a joke.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Mum, listen to me, will you! I’m going to work in Australia.’
Denise stared at her open-mouthed. ‘You can’t mean it!’
‘I do. I’ve always wanted to travel. You know that.’
‘But that’s not travelling; that’s emigrating!’
‘Yes. I like a sunny climate. You know how much I enjoyed Spain again last year. I applied to emigrate after Grandpop died.’
Denise burst into loud, noisy tears. ‘You can’t do it! I won’t let you! I’ll never see you again.’
Meriel sighed and tried not to get angry at the accusations that were soon flying across the table about ingratitude and selfishness.
Not long, she told herself. Just a couple more weeks.
* * * *
The plane landed in Western Australia on a hot day in November after a twenty-hour flight, by which time Meriel was heartily sick of being shut up in a big tin box.
She queued her way through Customs, smiling at the sniffer dog which checked everyone’s hand luggage. One woman was pulled out of the line and scolded for having an apple in her bag.
At the airport entrance there was a queue for taxis. As Meriel waited in the line of tired people, she lifted her face to the warmth, entranced by the clear blue sky and the brilliance of the light.
She was just as thrilled by the ride into the centre of Perth. For the last part of the journey they travelled along by the river and although she’d looked up the city on line when she applied to migrate and studied photos of it, the reality was far more impressive.
A typical city cluster of multi-storey buildings was set back from the river behind a wide strip of grass which softened the whole scene. The river widened at this point and the water sparkled in the sunlight as a ferry chugged across and yachts tacked to and fro. To one side of the city was a small hill which she knew from her research to be King’s Park. Buildings clung precariously to one side of the hill and a motorway – no, people called them freeways here – hummed with traffic below it.
The company which had offered her a job had booked her into a hotel, a modestly adequate place. Since she’d slept quite well on the journey, she only stayed there long enough to have a quick shower and put on a summer skirt and short-sleeved top. Then she spent two hours wandering round the city centre, feeling like a tourist, following the street map she’d picked up from reception.
At one stage she found herself in the street where she’d be working, so went to stare up at the tall building where Lee-Line International was situated. She disliked multi-storey office towers with their stale, canned air, but you couldn’t have everything. At least accepting this job had allowed her to move to a warmer country.
Now she was going to focus on her most important ambition of all, becoming an artist. Whatever it took, she’d do it.
Chapter 4
Ben Elless went to work in Brisbane reluctantly. He preferred the days when he had to go out of the city to visit suppliers or to inspect gardens or developments for new clients.
It was two years today since he’d buried his wife and he still found it hard to settle back into business mode. Sometimes he fantasized about buying a piece of land and becoming a recluse – he’d been very tempted to do that after Sandy died. But the sheer satisfaction of creating beautiful gardens helped him cope.
He’d almost lost his small company after losing Sandy. Only the intervention of his wife’s uncle Rod had saved him from bankruptcy, but he still wasn’t sure he’d done that right thing in accepting that help, because one condition of the loan had been to find a job for Rod’s son Phil. Ben had never liked Sandy’s cousin – but he hated the idea of losing his business because it was one of the main things he had left of his wife.
Phil proved to be a good salesman, but he had no feel for landscaping or plants. He made Ben wince when he talked about ‘product’.
The business was going really well now, because Ben’s designs were proving popular. Well, he had long, quiet evenings to work on them and perfect them. But Phil said they could be making more money and that had led to several arguments. He wasn’t going to let Phil persuade him to cut corners, whatever difference that might make to the bottom line. There was no way Ben would short-change the clients by putting in inferior plants and materials. He and Phil had argued about that only yesterday.
He switched on the computer and began to work on a new garden design, soon losing himself in it, so that his secretary had to shake him to make him realise someone wanted him on the phone.
Christine gave him one of those motherly smiles that reminded him of his real mother and patted his shoulder.
When he’d finished the call, she came back into his office. ‘I need to know what you agreed with this new client. Just concentrate for a few minutes then I’ll let you play again.’
‘Yes, Mama!’
She pretended to slap his arm and left him to it. Thank goodness for her accounting skills, he thought. He wasn’t the world’s best with figures. Unfortunately she was retiring soon and he was wondering how he’d manage without her to keep him on track about the business side of affairs.
Garden design he could talk about; keeping accounts in order was definitely not his best skill. Sandy had done all that.
Phil gradually took over from Christine, promising to show her replacement what to do and keep an eye on that side of things.
That was such a relief. Ben loved the design and gardening side of things and knew he did them well. You couldn’t be good at everything.
* * * *
On the Monday following her arrival, Meriel started work. Her boss, John Repping, welcomed her formally into the West Australian branch of Lee-Line International, then handed her over to a young woman of her own age. ‘Rosanna will show you round the office and she’ll be able to tell you about – er – shopping and such.’
As soon as they were away from his office, Rosanna grinned. ‘John’s so stiff sometimes you wonder if he’s going to crack down the middle next time he tries to smile! He’s all right, though. Looks after his staff. How was the flight?’
‘I slept most of the time. There wasn’t much else to do. It’s a long time to sit still in a small seat.’
‘I’ve never been to Europe, but I’m going there on my honeymoon.’
‘Oh? Are you getting marr
ied soon?’
Rosanna grinned. ‘Not for a while. I haven’t met the lucky fellow yet. But a girl has to plan. Are you single – or did you come out here with a guy?’
‘I came here on my own.’
‘Don’t you like guys?’
‘In moderation.’
Rosanna rolled her eyes. ‘Moderation is for after you’re married, not before.’
It was Rosanna who helped Meriel to find a small villa to rent. She also went shopping with her after work to assemble the essentials for survival. To her, this meant cooking utensils, sheets and towels, while Meriel’s thoughts ran more in the direction of art supplies and a good easel.
On the Saturday, Rosanna turned up at the hotel with one of her many relatives and an open-backed van called a ute, to help Meriel move her suitcases and parcels into the new flat. The relative also produced a bottle of champagne and the three of them solemnly christened the flat, drinking it out of three coffee mugs, because Meriel hadn’t got round to buying wine glasses yet.
Gino would have stayed longer if Meriel had given him any encouragement. He kept giving her admiring glances. But she wanted to be alone to settle in, so Rosanna winked and took her cousin away with a cheery, ‘See you on Monday!’
Meriel took a chair out into the tiny shaded courtyard at the rear and sipped the last of her champagne. A parrot flew on to a branch of the one tree and stared down at her solemnly. There wasn’t a single cloud in the blue sky. Then another parrot landed with a shriek and shortly afterwards the two of them flew off together.
‘I made it!’ She raised her glass in a silent toast to her new country.
* * * *
‘Do you fancy going out for lunch today, for a change?’ Rosanna asked two weeks later.
‘Sorry. I have to register and buy some stuff.’
‘For what?’
‘For my art classes. I’ve enrolled at the Technical and Further Education college for a certificate course.’ She explained about her obsession.
Rosanna shrugged. ‘I hope being artistic won’t stop you coming out for a drink sometimes.’