Meant To Be (2 page)

At least without Jake beside her she didn't have to deal with, ‘Ah, so who is this? And where are you from? And how long will you be visiting with us?' Locals – particularly the elderly – could be very nosy around newcomers. And then there would be the raised eyebrows, along with, ‘So you're staying at the farm with Emily, are you?'

She could see how Jake moving in mere days after John had been laid to rest could be seen as inappropriate. It was hardly surprising that tongues were wagging. It had been fine while Jake could be seen as just a friend of her cousin Liz…

But love doesn't work to a timetable.

If only Jake had happened about a year into the future
, she thought, as she stowed the three green eco bags of groceries in the boot. Then it would all be aboveboard. She let out a deep sigh as she shut the lid. But he hadn't, Barbara would say; he was meant to be there now. The universe had all this stuff sorted out and everything happened when and how it was supposed to.

Maybe so, but it still didn't make it any easier to deal with the gossip.

Emily had sometimes fantasised about leaving Wattle Creek. But where would she go? The truth was, she couldn't see herself living anywhere else. And having already moved house twice in a matter of weeks, she was keen to stay put.

Perhaps Jake would want to spend time in Melbourne down the track and gradually she'd be able to tear herself away. Could she consider living there, if that's what he wanted?

God, who was she kidding? Other than seeing him and meeting his sister Simone, she hadn't enjoyed her trip to the big city at all. Dealing with all that traffic and so many people in such close
proximity, practically running everywhere, was overwhelming. No, thank you very much. And the low cost of living was a major redeeming feature of life in the country.

Just before Emily left town she remembered to pop into the bank. She wanted to consult the spinning displays for term deposit and other investment brochures, but was also hoping to see Nathan Lucas, a friend who had recently moved to Wattle Creek from Adelaide to become the Assistant Manager.

A few weeks ago – a lifetime ago it seemed – Nathan had wanted Emily to rent him a room in the house she'd bought from the Bakers; correction,
nearly bought.
While she'd desperately needed the extra money, she'd turned him down. She'd needed more time on her own. Then she'd been evicted. Thankfully they had remained friends.

Thinking of Nathan made her realise with a bit of a shock that she didn't have many people she considered friends. She knew plenty of people to wave to in the street, say g'day to and chat about the weather. But there were very few she trusted enough to confide in – only really her dad, David and Barbara, and now Jake. But surely it hadn't always been like this. What happened?

Prior to getting married, when she'd worked in the insurance office, Emily had had lots of friends, and had always felt a part of a community. But she'd become withdrawn whilst being with John. They'd had a few dinner parties in the first few months together, but then stopped – they hadn't been much fun; she'd done all the work in the kitchen and John had just got drunk and belligerent. And their friends had never reciprocated. Or perhaps John had never passed on the invitations.

Emily paused by the wall of the bank and pretended to study her shopping list. But what she was really doing was wondering how she'd come to have so few close friends. She was easy to get along with. Wasn't she?

She'd had plenty of girlfriends in high school and during her twenties. But one by one they had moved away to the city in search of work and men. She'd just moved to the next small town over. And then she'd married John and he'd become her world.

Stepping inside the bank, she spotted Nathan in his glass-walled office, tapping away at his computer keyboard. When he looked up and saw her, he grinned and waved her over.

‘Come in,' he said, pecking her on the cheek. ‘Sit down, take a load off,' he added and slumped back into his chair.

‘How are you settling in?' Emily asked. ‘Have you found somewhere to live yet?'

‘Yep. One of the girls from the other bank, Sarah Poole, has a spare room.
They
provide housing for the Assistant Manager. I'm clearly with the wrong bank.'

‘Isn't it a conflict of interest, or something?'

‘You mean sleeping with the enemy?' He winked. ‘No idea. I'll just have to spend more time with my non-bank friends – like you. So, how're things?'

‘Great. Speaking of housemates, remember I told you about my friend Jake, in Melbourne, who came for Christmas? Well, he's staying again. Hopefully for a few months.'
Hopefully forever.

‘Ooh, do I detect romance?'

‘You do, indeed,' Emily said, blushing slightly.

‘Well, I hope you checked his horoscope before letting him move in.'

‘And I hope you've checked your compatibility with Sarah,' she said with a laugh.

‘I have, actually. And you might scoff. But take it from me, you can save yourself a lot of heartache if you ask the question up front. As a Capricorn, you need a Taurus or a Virgo. But your love-life is your business. I've said my piece. Just being a friend and looking out for you.'

‘Thanks Nathan. I appreciate it,' she said, wondering about Jake's birthday. He knew that hers was New Year's Eve, because he'd sent the lovely plans for the Bakers' house to Barbara and David's that night. But when was his?

‘So, did you just drop in to say hi, or was there something of a banking nature I can help you with?'

‘Well, I did want to say hi. But I've been thinking I should look at some investment options.'

‘How are you going with settling the estate?'

‘Okay, I think. It seems to be just a matter of putting information together and applying for probate – I've mainly let the lawyers deal with it. John's dad was kind enough to send them a list of assets, which saved me a lot of palaver. Hopefully in two months it'll all be rubber stamped.'

‘That's good. I've heard these things can be a nightmare.'

‘Well, it helped that John was recently bought out of the family company and had plenty of cash on hand for me to pay the outstanding bills.'

‘Phew for that.'

‘Yes. There was also an insurance policy. The payout from that should come soonish. And then there will be the proceeds from the estate to think about. I want to be sensible, do the right thing for my long-term future.'

‘Right, then, let's see what we've got to offer.'

Nathan ran through some of the bank's choices – the interest rates, potential returns and costs involved, but said if she was talking about investing large amounts she should probably think about seeing one of their visiting financial planners at some point. By the time he finished, Emily's head was swimming.

‘Hey, do you and Jake want to go and do some wineries or have lunch sometime? Sarah's quite new in town too, and we need to make some friends.'

‘I'd love to.'
I should give Jake a proper welcome, too.
Maybe over the weekend they could all splurge on lunch with Barbara and David.

Emily hadn't visited any of the cellar doors that had popped up on the far side of the district in the past few years. Her deceased husband hadn't been one for romantic Sunday drives. Farming, football, beer, and sex were the extent of John's interests. But she was really looking forward to playing tourist with Jake.

‘God, this is just like high school all over again, isn't it?' Nathan said.

‘Ha ha. I'll see what suits Jake and let you know.'

And then Emily was on her way back out of town, thinking again about what a whirlwind the past few months had been.

When she'd driven away from the farmhouse that day with Grace curled up on the passenger's side floor of the car she'd thought – hoped – it would be the last time she would ever drive this particular dirt road. And now look where she was. Life certainly was full of surprises.

Lost in her thoughts, Emily was suddenly jolted by two hard clunks as first the front tyre and then the rear one hit a large pothole – one she usually managed to avoid.

She slowed. The car seemed to be okay, so she continued on. But one thing was for sure; when the insurance payment came through for John's written-off ute, she would definitely replace it. Now that she owned a farm, she really needed something all-terrain. But what sort? And should she keep the car as well, or was running two vehicles too extravagant?

She was glad she had Jake to discuss these sorts of things with. Proud as she was of her newfound independence, there certainly were benefits to having a man around.

‘Hi honey, I'm home!' Emily called, smiling to herself.
What a cliché! I sound like a character from a soap opera.
She dumped the four heavy bags of groceries onto the lino floor of the kitchen, then rolled the stiffness out of her neck and shook the circulation back into her fingers.

‘Jake?' She shut the sliding glass door she'd shouldered open moments before.
He mustn't be far away to have left the door unlocked
, she thought.

Emily quickly unpacked the groceries, all the while listening for movement. If Jake was inside he would almost certainly have come to help carry everything in; he was that sort of guy. And Grace would normally have bounded up to greet her. She wandered through the house, but found no trace of either.

By the time she finished she was starting to get concerned. She checked her watch; almost two p.m. She went to the bedroom to change into her farm clothes, thinking she'd look for them outside. Maybe Jake and Grace were exploring and hadn't heard her return.

Entering the room, she said hello to Granny Rose via the big jar of buttons on the tallboy. The old Bushells coffee jar had been
her gran's last gift to her, and together with its precious contents, it meant more to her than anything. Emily wrapped her hands around the cold glass and put her chin on the rough, slightly rusty, faded red lid.

Again she found herself wondering if Gran had remembered the rough diamonds in there amongst the buttons. The frustrating thing was that she'd never know. But she would have treasured it anyway, even if it weren't for the diamonds.

Being a sentimental romantic, Emily loved the button jar for the symbolism it held. Trust Gran to hide her wedding gift from the Indian prince in there. Was it before or after that – because of the precious stones – that she'd decided never to take any buttons out?

Over the years Emily had seen many added – usually when Gran was cutting up worn-out clothes for rags – and had never understood why Gran would drag her off to the shop to buy new buttons whenever she needed one. One of her favourite things to do as a child – well, actually, even now – was to rotate the tightly closed jar and listen to the hiss, whoosh and rattle the different buttons and other objects made against themselves and the glass.

She couldn't believe that in all that time she'd never spotted one of the seven diamonds lurking about in there. Or perhaps she had and had dismissed them as one of the other strange things Gran had added over the years: old coins, buckles, hair clips, the odd seashell. It wasn't like diamonds in the rough were anything that would catch your attention.

But what a beautiful, sentimental gift. Emily thought about the prince's letter – the evidence that the family story had been no myth.

When Jake had first discovered the diamonds, she had immediately wanted to phone her mother up and gloat, ‘See, Gran was telling the truth.' But that would have opened one big old
jack-in-the-box – and there was no way Jack could be stuffed back in again. She had since decided to keep them a secret. If they found out, Enid and Aunt Peggy would no doubt argue they belonged to them as heirs, and then they'd cash them in for sure.

Emily was grateful every day for whatever had caused Gran to thrust the button jar into her arms on that last visit, rather than see it end up amongst all the things they'd had to sort through after her death. Back then she wouldn't have had the courage to defend her choice of keeping such an obviously sentimental – and apparently worthless – item. She was now much more able to stand up for herself. ‘Oh Gran,' she whispered. ‘I wish you were here to meet Jake. You'd love him.'

As she absently glanced out of her bedroom window, she looked past the ugly steel skeleton of the half-built hayshed to the pile of rubble behind it. Once it had been her beloved cottage – before John had taken a front-end loader to it.

Something caught her eye – Jake's red shirt. It stood out like a beacon against the pile of pale limestone around him. He was sitting amidst the ruins of the cottage, leaning against the base of what had once been the stone chimney to the original outdoor kitchen. Grace was lying at his feet.

Emily hugged the button jar again, put it back down on the tallboy, and got changed.

As she made her way over to the pile of rubble, she wondered if she would feel less sad about it if she had it removed. Would she eventually forget what had been there and who had been responsible for its demise?

‘Hey there you two,' Emily called as she approached. Jake looked like he might be snoozing, and she didn't want to startle him. He and Grace were mostly in the shade, but their legs were stretched out in the sun. Grace raised her head and slapped her tail a couple of times before lying back down and becoming still again.

‘Hello,' Jake said, smiling up at her. ‘How was the thriving metropolis and cesspit of gossip?'

‘Thriving,' Emily said, smiling back. ‘You look like you've found a good spot.'

‘Sure have. Care to sit?' He patted the smooth patch of earth beside him.

‘Don't mind if I do,' she said, sitting down. Grace immediately got up, stepped over Jake's outstretched legs, and flopped down with her head in her mistress's lap.