‘How do you know that?’
‘I know a lot of people and I have a great deal of influence in the right places. It’s time to use them.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘I am. Now, tell what’s happening with you. Do you need specialist medical treatment? Plastic surgery? The top man in the country plays golf with me. Or we can go overseas.’
‘I’m not sure yet. The doctors here told me it would take a couple of months for the wound to heal.’
‘Wouldn’t hurt to see Tony Tan. He has a waiting list as long as your arm but I’ll fix it up for you. When can you be in Sydney?’
‘I … I’m not sure I can go. I have some things to do here and I’m not ready to go out yet.’
‘Whenever you’re ready, let me know.’
‘Thanks, Hugh, I really appreciate it.’
‘Krista, you’re my daughter, or as close as can be, whatever happens with your mother,’ he said, in a softened tone she’d rarely heard from him.
‘I hope you can work something out. Maybe that retreat in India will help.’ His infidelity wasn’t something she wanted to hit him with right now, if ever. ‘Hugh, I rang to ask … I want to buy The Grange in partnership with Rod and Amy. What sort of price can you do?’
‘That’s straight to the point. I like your style. Hmmm. Two million is what I told Rod.’ All business now.
‘We don’t think it’s worth that in the current market. We think one million five is closer.’
‘Krista, Krista, you know that’s ridiculous. One nine.’
‘One six.’
‘One eight-fifty. A bargain and you know it.’
‘One six-fifty.’
‘One eight.’
‘One seven. You know that’s fair, Hugh, it gives you a profit and you also know it’s much better to sell to us than go on the open market. No agent’s fees, no advertising, no waiting. You also know we can pay.’
‘Where did you learn to bargain?’ She knew he was smiling.
‘I’ve been to markets and bazaars all over the world. I can haggle with the best of them.’
Hugh laughed. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal. Congratulations. I’m proud of you.’
‘You’ve never said that before.’
‘I should have, because I’ve always been proud of you even though I may not have shown it. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I hope The Grange will make you happy.’
‘Thanks, Hugh. Love you.’ She’d never said that before but it was true.
‘You too, beautiful girl.’
***
Oliver called Krista every couple of days in the evening after dinner. He asked how she was, filled her in on his doings, kept her up to date with the Patience orchestral progress and even raised a laugh when he related some of the animal adventures he’d had during the day. His plan was to be a friend and gradually remind her what it was they enjoyed about each other’s company, that he was interested in her as a person, what she was thinking, what she was doing, hoping and planning. He looked forward to the chats, and by the gradual opening up of her voice and conversation, she did too. At first she was reticent, but he persisted and she always answered his calls.
Her decision to buy The Grange in partnership with Rod and Amy surprised and impressed him, especially when she told him how she’d haggled the price down. She was bubbly and excited and eager to talk. For the first time he glimpsed the forward-looking Krista he’d kissed goodbye when she left for Melbourne.
‘I bet not many people manage that,’ he said.
‘I think Hugh was playing with me but he wasn’t going to give the place away. He wanted his profit and he got it. Smaller than he’d like but he wants to impress Mama and he feels guilty about me.’
Her other news shocked him as much as it had her.
‘Did Rupe tell you anything about those deaths? I didn’t know,’ he said.
‘No, it’s horrible. Hugh said that’s how Moran deals with employees who mess up.’
‘Good God. It hasn’t been in the news at all. You’d think two murders would be.’ Krista could have been killed if that’s how the man operated. A chill ran through his body and the urge to throw down the phone, drive to The Grange and hold her in his arms was overpowering. But disastrous if he succumbed.
‘They might want it kept quiet,’ she said.
‘Maybe.’
‘Those two were awful and stupid but they didn’t deserve to be shot.’
‘We don’t know what else they’ve done,’ he said.
‘They acted on their own beating us up. Moran obviously didn’t like it. He doesn’t take kindly to being opposed, or ignored.’
‘Thank God they let you go. You could have been …’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I was warned. Hugh said Moran wouldn’t dare kill me or Angus.’
‘He says.’
‘He’s right though, isn’t he? We’re alive.’
When Oliver phoned her two days later, he had his own news. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Doc, who would be the obvious person, but Krista was closer to him in many, more personal, ways and becoming more so each day. He hoped it was the same for her.
‘Remember I told you about my brother, and my parents?’
‘Yes, Julian with a broken leg. How is he?’ The name had uncharacteristically lodged in her head, important to her because it was important to Oliver,
‘Pretty good. Looking forward to getting his cast off.’
‘So is Rod.’
‘It’s my mother. She never complains about her health but she told me she was tired and when I mentioned it to Julian he said he’d try to get her to see a doctor.’
‘But your father is a doctor.’
‘He wouldn’t notice unless she stopped cooking his breakfast.’
‘I’m sure he would.’
‘I’m not. Anyway, Julian called today and said when she was visiting him this morning she fainted. He called the ambulance and she’s in hospital. They’re doing tests. He’ll let me know when he knows anything.’
‘Do they have any idea what’s wrong?’
‘Not yet. It could simply be low blood pressure.’
‘I hope so. They can fix that, can’t they?’
‘Yes, but there’s no use guessing until we get the test results.’
‘Will you go to see her?’
‘Yes, but not just yet.’
‘Did I tell you my mother has gone to an exclusive retreat in India? For a month.’
‘To be spiritually cleansed?’
‘She hopes so. I can’t see it working. She’ll be bored after a couple of days. Especially if there’s no champagne.’
‘She might find nirvana.’
‘My yoga teacher mentioned that once but I’ve forgotten what he said about it.’
‘The ultimate goal of Buddhism. It’s the state of mind where all suffering and desire is transcended.’
‘That’s right. You have to meditate.’
‘Yes. Years and years’ worth.’
‘Nirvana would be something, wouldn’t it? Maybe I should try meditation. I didn’t really get into it before.’
‘Worth a try.’ Not his thing at all. Far too busy. Playing cello was his spiritual escape.
To his surprise Krista phoned him the following day, asking after his mother.
‘They think it’s her heart,’ he said.
‘Did she have a heart attack?’
‘No. It’s erratic and doesn’t pump the blood hard enough. They think she needs a pacemaker.’
‘Is that a dangerous operation?’
‘Any operation is dangerous to a degree. Pacemakers are quite common nowadays but people are usually older than she is. It regulates the heartbeat.’
‘That’s a relief then, isn’t it?’
‘Very much so. It’s ironic that my father is a heart specialist.’
‘And he didn’t notice anything wrong?’
‘Just as Julian and I said. He expe
cts her to be there for him.’
‘How’s he taking this news?’
‘No idea but I hope it’s shaken him up and made him realise what a shit of a man he is.’
‘Will you go to Sydney?’
‘I’m leaving on Monday. The operation is on Wednesday. I’m not sure how long I’ll be a way. A week maybe.’
***
Oliver stayed with Julian and together they visited their mother before and after her operation. His father wasn’t operating, a colleague was, but he observed the surgery and came to the waiting room to give them the news. Oliver hadn’t set eyes on him since his departure for Taylor’s Bend years before. His greying hair had thinned but he still had the upright stance and arrogant stride of a man who expected his opinions and words to be respected and obeyed.
He shook Oliver’s hand and clapped Julian on the shoulder.
‘It went very well. Quite routine.’ He might have been relaying the results to strangers about one of his patients. ‘We’re not anticipating any problems.’
‘Can we see her?’ asked Oliver.
‘She still in recovery but when she’s back in her room you can.’ The steely gaze swept over him. ‘You’re looking well, Oliver. Country life must agree with you.’
‘It does.’
He nodded and when he spoke again his voice was less sure. ‘I know what you’re both thinking. The same as everyone else is. How come I didn’t notice Em’s condition? I have no excuse, I admit it. I took her for granted and I doubt I’ll ever forget that. It worked out this time but it could have been something worse and I might have lost her.’
‘We might have lost her,’ said Oliver.
‘Yes. I’m sorry. We.’
His father turned and went back through the surgery doors.
‘Wonder how long his overwhelming remorse will last.’ Oliver flopped back onto the couch he and Julian had been sitting on.
‘I’ve never heard him say anything remotely like that before,’ said Julian.
‘It’s still about him though, isn’t it?’
‘Oh of course. But he tried, and that’s a first.’
***
Krista missed Oliver’s calls. She knew he’d be preoccupied with his mother and his family and wouldn’t give her a second thought while he was away. That was natural and she understood completely. But she still missed their chats and the sound of his voice. Her pre-falling asleep mental wanderings became more and more complicated. She could call him but was reluctant to take that step while she was unsure how he would interpret it. If he was phoning her out of a sense of duty he’d be annoyed and feel stalked. She couldn’t call him because she’d never been in such a situation before. She’d never been unsure how to approach a man she was attracted to—in love with—never had any doubt of his attraction to her. Or cared so much.
Since when had a phone call become so important?
Her scar was improving and she had to admit that what originally Doc, and now Amy and Abbie, told her was true. Three weeks after the event the raw redness had faded to pink and the lumpiness where the stiches had been had almost evened out. Because she hadn’t been to a hairdresser since before the anniversary party her hair had grown and the style was in dire need of a trim, but the benefit of that was the longer side was on her bad cheek and obscured the upper half of the wound. If she let it grow right out evenly on both sides the scar would almost be hidden.
She’d worked steadily on the painting and was two-thirds of the way through the pile Abbie had left. When she’d finished those, Abbie said, her friend Maureen. who was in charge of wardrobe had claimed Krista’s assistance with sewing costumes.
‘But I can’t sew,’
‘You said you couldn’t paint.’
Krista smiled. ‘I do know a bit about clothes.’
She spent hours with Rod and Amy discussing the way their partnership would work. Rod contacted a lawyer friend in Melbourne who would deal with the sale contract. Krista contacted her financial advisor for advice on setting up the partnership as a legal entity. He agreed to come to The Grange and talk to them in two weeks’ time. Amy was impressed that he would do that rather than insist they go to his Sydney office.
‘He’s one of Hugh’s advisors and he always goes to Hugh,’ Krista said. ‘I told him we all had to be there and that you can’t leave The Grange unattended. He can stay here so he won’t charge us for accommodation. Can you collect him from the airport?’
‘Sure.’
The thought of a relative stranger seeing her face was daunting but it had to be endured. Rod and Amy were relying on her to see this through and as they said, she was part of the team. The whole process had become a juggernaut rolling on its way but their excitement was contagious. She’d never been important to anyone before, never had anything of worth to contribute.
Oliver had been away three long days when the doorbell rang midmorning. She wasn’t expecting anyone but Lola yapped and gave her away so she held the door open a crack and peered out.
A familiar face smiled back at her, lined and weather-beaten under a battered hat. By his side stood an elderly, plump woman in a pastel pink dress, holding a wicker basket.
‘Hello there, love. It’s Les and Sal. We’ve just come to see how you’re getting on.’
Krista pulled the door wide, suddenly aware of their scrutiny, dipping her face so her hair dropped over the scar. Lola stopped barking and wagged her tail.
‘Hello, Les. Nice to meet you, Sal.’ A pang of guilt hit. They’d invited her to visit after she’d come home from hospital, weeks ago, and she’d refused. Doc’s words ran through her head. ‘People judge others by their actions, not what they look like.’ She couldn’t possibly turn them away. ‘What a surprise. Come in.’
‘I hope you don’t mind us dropping in like this.’ Sal smiled confidently as though she’d be astonished if Krista said she did mind. ‘I’ve brought you some scones. Fresh baked.’
‘You haven’t eaten a scone until you’ve tasted Sal’s. She wins champion scone maker every year at the show.’ Les grinned.
Krista knew a hint when she heard one. ‘How about tea or coffee to go with them?’
‘We can always do with a cuppa, thanks.’
‘I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you,’ she said as she led them to the kitchen. ‘I haven’t been up to going out.’
‘Don’t you worry about it, love. You’ve had more than enough on your plate lately.’ Sal gave her a kindly pat on the arm. She peered into the lounge room as they passed. ‘Oh my goodness, just look at this beautiful house, Les. You should have taken your filthy boots off at the door. Go and do it right now.’
Krista glanced down at his feet clad in old but clean elastic-sided boots. ‘Sal, he’s fine. Don’t worry.’
‘I cleaned them special,’ he said indignantly. ‘I was coming to visit the prettiest girl in town.’ He winked at Krista.
She smiled and Sal snorted. ‘Silly old goat.’
In the kitchen, Krista started the tea. Sal placed her basket on the table and produced a floral cake plate, large container, a jar of jam and a plastic-covered bowl of whipped cream.
‘I’ll put this together while you do the tea, love,’ she said. ‘Where do you hide the knives and spoons?’
Krista opened the cutlery drawer. Sal took out what she wanted and set to work.
Instead of the mugs she usually used, Krista took her mother’s elegant and expensive cups and saucers from the cupboard. If anyone deserved the best, Les and Sal did. She set them on a tray with the matching milk jug and sugar bowl, plates and the teapot.
‘Let’s go out to the terrace,’ she said when everything was assembled and ready.
Her guests trailed after her through the house to the outdoor table setting, exclaiming over the furniture, the size and design as they went.
‘You must be rattling around in here all by yourself,’ said Les as he settled himself at the table under the shade umbrella.
‘I am a bit but I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.’
‘Word is you and the manager have bought the place from Littlejohn,’ he said.
‘That’s right. How did you know?’
‘Hard to keep secrets around here.’ Sal put two jam and cream scone halves on each plate and handed them around.
‘It’s not really a secret,’ said Krista.
She poured the tea. Les put two spoonfuls of sugar in his cup and stirred vigorously.
‘This is the life, eh Sal?’ he said, sitting back, scone in hand. ‘Lord of the manor suits me, I reckon.’
‘How are you in yourself?’ asked Sal. ‘Your face is healing but it’s hard to get over something like you’ve been through. Goodness, it’s warm sitting here.’
She slipped her cardigan off, revealing, to Krista’s shock, a right arm with skin that looked melted and burned from elbow to fingers. How had she not noticed the scarring on Sal’s hand before? Why had no-one mentioned it?
Krista breathed in and exhaled slowly before replying. ‘Yes, I … I think I’m getting better. At first I couldn’t bear anyone to see me. Now …’ She managed a smile. ‘I have my first visitors.’
‘I know exactly.’ Sal nodded. ‘I was never a beauty like you, but this happened when I was fourteen and when I came out of hospital I wanted to hide away.’
‘What happened?’
‘Hot oil. I was cooking dinner and the chip pan spilled on me.’
‘It must have been incredibly painful.’ Her own cut paled into insignificance beside the horror Sal had endured. And she’d been a child.
‘It was, but now I don’t even think about it.’
‘No-one does,’ said Les. ‘She’s known for her scones, not her arm.’
‘And they’re delicious,’ said Krista.
‘We ran a property out near Coonamble,’ said Sal. ‘My parents needed me and my brother to help out, so I couldn’t hide, and I had to go to school. After the first few week, no-one commented and it was only strangers who stared. But in a country town, strangers aren’t all that common and the locals knew about it. But even so, I was a teenager, I was ugly, and I was sure no-one would ever want to marry me.’
‘I did,’ said Les. ‘Love at first sight it was. That beautiful smile hooked me.’
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