by Annie Seaton
Blake Curtis had done such a huge number on her self confidence Sonia was probably right; she would end up old and lonely like Aunt Aggie. Maybe she’d still be in the house and take over the haunting when Aunt Aggie moved on to wherever ghosts went.
Despite what she’d told Sol about creaking and banging pipes, she had no doubt that Aggie still had a presence in the house. Nothing to be scared of, just a comforting sense of Aunt Aggie looking out for them.
That was another reason she should have known Blake wasn’t for her before he flaunted bimbo girl in her face, the night she’d caught them together. He’d laughed the one time she’d foolishly mentioned Aunt Aggie still being in the house. Rolled up the sleeve of his very expensive business shirt, looked at his Rolex and made a hasty exit.
She should have known then, or maybe one of the other dozen times when Blake had ridiculed her, disparaged her profession, and turned his nose up at the house. He’d never been meant for her, but she was too scared of being lonely to admit it to herself.
Pride comes before a fall. The words hung in the air around Sally and she looked up with a smile.
‘Yes, Aunt Aggie, they sure do.’ And that was exactly why she wasn’t going to fall for the charms of a bumbling research student who wore strange clothes.
No matter how good looking he was. As she walked slowly upstairs, her phone rang.
Sonia. She ignored it for the first few rings, still cross at her sister for what she’d done. Finally she gave in and pressed answer.
‘Sally?’
‘Yes.’
‘Woops, she’s still shitty with me.’ Sonia’s voice was muffled but Sally heard what she said. ‘Are you there, Sal? What’s the weather like. Has it improved?’
‘If I say no, will you stay away for longer?’ Sally knew she was being a cow, but Sonia shouldn’t have placed that ad.
‘Probably.’
Sally paused at the top of the stairs and looked out the window in the little alcove where Aunt Aggie had loved to sit and read. The moon was full and the stars were strewn around the sky like glittering diamonds. It was a beautiful, crisp and clear winter night. ‘Well, yes then, it’s teeming down rain. Broken every rainfall record ever made. The sea is huge and the storms haven’t stopped since you left.’ She stamped on the wooden floor. ‘Hear the thunder?’
‘Oh, come on Sal. You must be missing me. Aren’t you lonely?’
‘Nope.’
‘So how did you get that guy with the sexy voice to pretend he was in bed with you the other night?’
Sally almost disconnected, but she kept her voice firm and calm. ‘Pretending? There was no pretending about it.’
Sonia’s giggle was the last straw.
‘In fact, I need to know when you’re coming back, because Sol’s moving in. I guess I need to check that’s okay with Rosie and Taj.’
She nodded and satisfaction filled her. That had shut her sister up.
‘Sal?’ Rosie’s voice replaced Sonia’s. ‘What’s happening there? Sonia just held the phone out to me, she’s lost for words. What did you tell her?’
Sally crossed the fingers of her spare hand. ‘I’m pleased you’re there, Rosie. I wanted to check with you that it’s okay for Sol to move in.’
‘Sol, who’s Sol?”
‘My friend from the other night.’
‘Sure, you can sub-let any of the rooms, that’s not a problem. As long as you don’t mind having someone else in the house.’
Anger tugged at Sally’s calm.
Why was it that everyone thought she was incapable of getting a man and holding him!
Any guilt at telling Rosie a porky disappeared like a puff of smoke up the chimney. She’d kept the fire going since Sol had lit it for her. ‘No, Sol’s moving in with me.’
Stunned silence. ‘But didn’t you just . . . um . . . meet him?’
‘Yes. Love at first sight. And how long did you know Taj before you got together.’
‘That was different.’ The voice was indignant. Great, now she had Sonia and Rosie offside.
‘Okay, as long as it’s okay for him to move in. Thanks, Rosie.’ She kept her voice bright and breezy and cut Rosie off before she could speak. ‘Tell Sonia to text me when she’s coming home. I have to go. Sol’s at the door. Byeee.”
She hit the disconnect button.
It was time to call Sol and put her plan in place.
She took a deep breath and went looking for the business card he’d given her the other night.
IT HAD BEEN THREE DAYS since Sally had said she would be in touch. Time was running out and Sol was about to hit the panic button. Maybe he’d forget about this thesis before he went back to Sydney uni to finish off his vet studies. But one thing he hated was leaving anything unfinished. That was another reason he had to go back and finish his vet science work.
One quick text to say she’d found the notes and would be in touch for him to pick up the notes from the house was all he hoped for; he’d trusted her and he had not expected her to let him down but it would still be a relief to receive her call, even though he was cross at her.
Well, not really at her; it was a combination of things that had put him into a bad mood, but Sally was bearing the brunt of it, because he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts.
He didn’t have time to find a woman attractive.
He didn’t have time to spend any time with a woman he found attractive.
But she was so damn attractive, and such a sweet person—once she’d gotten over the grumps on Friday night, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And he didn’t have time to think about that.
The pressure was on him to get his thesis done, even though he knew that once it was done, he wouldn’t be doing any more study in that field.
Although a little voice nagged, it would be a reason to stay in touch with Sally. He pushed away the voice of doubt that always plagued him. He wasn’t good with women and this whole dating business. He’d been too busy studying for most of his twenties.
‘If I want to spend more time with her, I’ll ask her out,’ he told the voice of doubt emphatically. ‘What do you think I am? A nerd or something?’ He straightened his shoulders as he trudged through the muddy paddock. This last week had opened up a clear path for Sol but he hadn’t told anyone yet. Not the supervisor at the university, or his family.
Especially not his family. He could just see the eye rolls, and hear the “tut tuts” when he told them he was going to follow a different path for his career. The one he should always have followed. He was a grown man, and it was time that everyone around him realised it.
‘Hah, and you’re too nervous to ask out a beautiful woman,’ niggled the voice of doubt. ‘So how are you going to stand up to your biggest critics?’
‘I’m not nervous,’ Sol muttered as he picked up the bag of goat pellets and ripped open the top of the sack with more vigour than he’d intended.
‘Oh fuck,’ he said as the pellets scattered around in the mud and about a dozen goats came running at him.
As soon as he got this lot sorted and locked up, he’d call Sally back and organise a time to visit. And when he’d caught up on everything, he’d ask her out.
On a date. A real date. Nothing to do with the thesis.
His phone beeped as the first goat hit him in the back and his legs went out from beneath him. He lay in the squelchy mud and dug into his jeans pocket for his phone as the cold seeped through to his legs. He squinted and smiled when he saw who it was from; scrolling down, his grin got wider as he read the text.
Are you free to catch up tomorrow? I have no clients, so come as early as you like. I have a favour to ask you.
Sol nodded. Not even the cold mud, or the goats nudging at him to get to the pellets in the mud could dampen his mood. He was going to see Sally again, and not only that she had a favour to ask.
Then all he had to do was finish the thesis, hand it in, enroll in his new course, go and visit his parents�
��maybe—and then he would be asking Sally out.
Life was looking good.
SOL TRIED TO RETRIEVE that good feeling later that night as he sat in the driver’s seat of his old Land Rover ready to put it in the shed for the night. There was no way it would start the next morning if the day was cold.
‘Come on, old girl. You can do it,’ he almost crooned. On the tenth turn of the key, when the motor refused to turn over at all, he slammed his hands onto the steering wheel in disgust.
Okay, so the universe was telling him that this was a bad idea.
Another point of contention with his parents. The Audi they’d given him for his twenty-first birthday seven years ago was sitting unused in the spare garage at their house on the harbour.
Gertie, the old Land Rover had been for when he was going to be a vet.
Forget Sally. Forget the thesis. Why finish it anyway? Just to prove to his family that he could see something through to the end?
He climbed out of the car, and grabbed his phone off the seat.
Sorry, Sally. Car troubles. Before he could think, his fingers flew over the keys of their own free will. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a trip up to Peats Ridge tomorrow to deliver the notes. I’ll entice you with a nice lunch, and reimburse your petrol.
Chapter 7
Sally hadn’t been up this way for years. Familiar signs flashed past: Avoca, Terrigal, Wamberal. Great memories—in their teens she and Sonia had spent a lot of time at the Central Coast, hanging out with their friends on weekends. Having fun, being silly, enjoying life.
When had it all stopped?
Two years and two months ago when Blake the bastard had broken her heart.
As she drove along the expressway after the built up areas north of Hornsby, Sally let herself think about Blake. For a long time, she’d refused to think about the relationship, or talk about it. When they’d been together, Blake hadn’t liked spending time with her friends—or Sonia—and they’d gravitated towards his finance crowd. She’d made some acquaintances but hadn’t had a lot in common with the wives and girlfriends who liked to “do” lunch and spend most of their time in beauty spas and dress shops. So no new lasting friendships had formed. She and Blake had been together for just over a year when he’d decided he wanted a change but he hadn’t had the courage to tell her.
No, she’d come across him and the bimbo in a bathroom at one of his work functions. The only satisfaction Sally had got that night—and by the look of things, Blake had been getting plenty until she’d walked in on them—had been tipping the whole jar of Dolce and Gabbana hand wash over his head.
By the time, she’d surfaced after the break up, many of her friends had left town or were married and had moved west of the city to more affordable housing estates. Rosie and Taj and the kids spent most of their time overseas, and Sonia—well Sonia was just Sonia. She was the party animal and fitted in with all crowds. After the third time she’d dragged Sally out to a club, Sally had had enough and opted to stay home.
Where she was happy in her own company. Or so she tried to convince herself.
And thus Sonia’s comment, “you’re turning into Aunt Aggie” had been born.
But Sonia was right. Sally knew she’d been used and she’d let it affect her for way too long. And if she wanted to be catty, the sex hadn’t been that good anyway. Blake had been more interested in how he looked than how he performed. A giggle escaped her lips and happiness lifted her heart as she looked forward to seeing Sol again.
Sonia’s ad, and meeting Sol, had been the catalyst for her rethink.
From today, life was about having fun!
She turned the radio on and smiled as her favourite surfing song came over the airwaves. It made her think of Rosie and Sonia over in Hawaii; even though she’d forgiven Sonia for the ad she’d placed, it would still be fun to wind her up.
Sonia had always said Sally had lost her sense of humour since Blake was on the scene; she was about to find out it wasn’t lost; it had just been buried in an avalanche of low self confidence.
As long as Sol was willing to play along.
And if it meant that she had to spend a little more time in his company on the way, well, so be it. That would be a bonus.
Seeing the way he’d looked at her the other night had done wonders for Sally’s self confidence. Today she’d taken a little bit more care with her appearance. She’d blown dry her hair and put a tiny bit of makeup on, and taken care to choose a nice T-shirt to go with her slim fitting jeans. She’d lost a lot of weight over the past year.
As Sally got closer to the Peats Ridge turn off, she pulled over in a parking bay and opened Sol’s text and typed the address he’d given her into Google Maps, and then let the robotic voice guide her to the place that Sol had said he was farm-sitting. She passed the Australian Reptile Park, and then Somersby Falls, but there was still some distance to go. The small township of Peats Ridge flashed by, and then the tarred road turned to gravel. When she turned onto Bloodtree Road, she recognised the address and knew she was going in the right direction.
Only a few more kilometres according to the digital map.
But it seemed to take forever as she wound down narrow dirt roads, over hills and through creek crossings.
No wonder Sol had been disappointed when she’d tried to fob him off on Friday night, after driving all this way into the city.
To answer her—Sonia’s—ad. This place was hours away from Bondi Beach. Trees formed an avenue above the last narrow road and the lacy shadows danced on the windscreen. The closer she got as the small blue dot on her phone headed for the farm, the more the little niggles of excitement fluttered in Sally’s stomach. It was like being sixteen again, and she had no idea what had caused the feeling. Maybe it was the decision she’d made to start having fun again.
Maybe Sonia’s ruse had worked?
WHEN SALLY HAD AGREED to drive up to the farm with her notes, Sol had fist pumped the air. He really hadn’t expected her to agree to come so far, and he’d become resigned to the fact that he would have to get his Land Rover fixed before he could drive to the beach house at Bondi and collect the notes. The deadline was looming and there was very little time to spare.
But she’d agreed to come...and she’d sounded enthusiastic too.
Sally had said she’d be there late morning, so once he’d fed the dogs and goats, searched out the cats and locked them inside and swept out the aviary, he let himself relax.
He boiled the kettle and was sitting out on the back verandah when two things struck him at the same time. He needed to get out of his pyjama pants and ratty jumper before she arrived, and at the same time he realised he hadn’t seen Otis around since he’d let him out when he’d got up this morning.
With a groan, he hurried out the back door and pushed open the gate that led out to the back twenty acres.
There was no sign of the silver Weimaraner.
Damn, he’d been put in Sol’s care, and now he’d taken off.
Dave’s words rang in his ears. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let Otis in the back paddock, or especially down by the creek. He humps wombats.’
Great, just great! A wombat-humping dog. Just what he needed today.
Sol thought back, trying to remember when he’d last seen Otis, but with no luck. He’d first ventured out at sunrise and the silver dog had followed him outside.
He walked down to the back boundary past the old wooden dunny covered in honeysuckle vines, and called and whistled the damn dog. He tipped his head to the side; that had sounded like a bark from down near the creek on the top side of the farm.
As he walked back up the hill, another sound drifted across and he looked up.
A small red sedan was crossing the cattle grid at the front of the property. It was between him and the house, and he put his hands over his eyes.
No, it couldn’t be Sally.
Not yet please God. He lifted his hands, and when he was sure it was indeed her, he estimated
the distance between the back paddock and the driveway—and the house in between. He knew there was a pair of clean jeans sitting on the washing machine at the back of the house.
Anything would be better than getting sprung in a pair of blue-striped flannelette PJs.
He skirted along the back fence keeping an eye on the car as it drove up the hill before he dashed behind a stand of gum trees. He stood waiting for Sally to pull up at the front of the house. The car drove slowly along the drive and then she turned towards the shed where his dead Land Rover was parked.
With a groan, Sol stepped out from behind the tree and crossed to the shed. He had no chance of scarpering back to the house for his jeans.
He’d just have to greet her, apologise and then get dressed.
‘Morning, Sally. You must have left bright and early.’ He plastered a grin onto his face as she wound down the window and peered out at him.
Her eyes dropped to his legs and her smile was wide as she looked back up at him. ‘Am I too early?’
‘No, no, not at all.’ He opened the door for her. If there was one thing that his mother had taught him it was how to be a gentleman. ‘I’ve been looking for a missing dog.’
Sally climbed out and stretched her arms above her head. ‘That was a long drive.’
‘Thanks so much for coming. I really appreciate it.’ he gestured to his Land Rover parked in front of her car. ‘Since Gertie gave up the ghost, I’m stuck here until the mechanic arrives.’
As Sally walked around to the other side of the car, and opened the back door, a cacophony of barks and bleats filled the air.
‘Bloody dog. Wait here, Sally.’ Sol left her at the car and took off at a run, puffing by the time he reached the top of the hill, but a groan took away his next breath.