Chanel Sweethearts (19 page)

Jess let herself into the penthouse. ‘Hello?' she called. Genevieve walked out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and smiling broadly. A spicy aroma accompanied her.

‘Hello, darling, do come in. What a lovely surprise.'

Jessica took off her damp jacket, fluffed out her hair and followed Genevieve back into the kitchen. ‘Dad here?'

‘No – late meeting. Sorry.'

‘Never mind,' Jess said, but her throat felt tight with tears. She really needed a hug from her dad tonight, and it seemed a bit strange that Genevieve was here alone.

‘I've made a green chicken curry. Would you like a bowl?' Genevieve asked, flicking off the gas and bringing a saucepan to the bench.

‘Oh, yes please,' Jessica said, shaking off her sadness. ‘I could do with some home cooking.'

‘How is it going at work?' Genevieve asked as she served up the curry with basmati rice and roti.

Jess couldn't help herself: she blurted out a tangle of thoughts and emotions about her work and her new life.

‘That's all very tricky,' Genevieve said, nodding, as they sat to eat. ‘But what about Jimmy? Surely you can talk to him about it?'

‘I'm worried he's stealing my ideas,' Jess murmured into her curry.

‘Oh, Jess, darling, don't go all paranoid on me,' Genevieve said. ‘It's a bit too spicy, isn't it?' She pointed to the meal. ‘Would you like some yoghurt?'

Jess nodded as Genevieve continued.

‘Look, Jess,' she said. ‘I've worked with Jimmy, and he's an absolute professional. He would never do that sort of thing.' She passed the yoghurt to Jess.

‘There are a few things that are hard to overlook, though,' Jessica said, staring into her glass mournfully. She related the events of the past few weeks.

‘If I may say so, Jess, you are very new to the corporate world. I wouldn't go wrecking your reputation over something so small,' Genevieve warned gently. ‘It's quite normal for the head of the team to present ideas on behalf of the group,' she continued.

‘So you think it's all okay?' Jess asked, starting to feel embarrassed about her reaction.

‘It's fair enough to be a bit sensitive, but everyone's on the same side.' Genevieve came to pat her on the arm.

Jessica traced her finger over the whorls of marble in the bench. Genevieve was right; she had overreacted.

Jessica crept into Caro and Angus's house just before ten p.m. Her sister-in-law was in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. ‘There you are. I was worried, you've never worked this late before.'

‘I had dinner with Genevieve at Dad's.'

‘Where was your father? Meeting, no doubt? He's as bad as his son. Well, she's making herself at home, isn't she? I bet she loves swanning around the penthouse, eating his food and drinking his wine.'

‘For God's sake, Caro,' Jessica snapped. She was tired, she could feel a headache coming on and she was sick of Caro sniping at Genevieve. ‘She's a nice person, and she really helped me. She listened, she didn't judge and she gave me supportive advice. That's not a crime is it? Why are you so suspicious?'

‘I have every right to be suspicious. She's after more than company, mark my words. That enormous Bulgari diamond and ruby ring she's wearing would have cost more than a car. And I bet she's trying to get it on her left finger, if you know what I mean.'

During her tirade Caro poured Jessica a generous glass of merlot and made up a plate of blue cheese and crackers. She tipped a handful of red grapes onto the edge of the platter as she continued. ‘It's just worrying, that's all.'

‘Caro, you're being ridiculous.' Jessica stood up to take the glass. ‘Genevieve was so kind to me. I've had a rotten day.'

‘What happened?' Caro asked, looking up sharply. ‘It's that Jimmy, isn't it? He makes my skin crawl.'

The women moved into the living room and sat facing each other on the suede couches.

‘Caro, how can you say that? He is gorgeous, and so sweet. Everyone loves him; he's just unbelievable. He's creative and very interesting, and have you seen the outfits? I have honestly never seen anybody so hip, so chic – especially not a guy.'

Caro looked at Jessica and a smile crept over her face. She put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh. My. God. You're doinking him.'

Jessica rolled her eyes and looked away. ‘That's beside the point.'

‘Yeah, right. Okay, what made your day so rotten?'

Jessica related the story for the second time that night, but remembering Genevieve's words she couldn't help but feel a little silly. ‘It's probably nothing,' she finished. ‘It's absolutely okay that Jimmy presented the idea on behalf of the team. Anyway, he apologised and said it wouldn't happen again.'

‘What?' Caro exploded. ‘But that's not fair. That's ridiculous: he's taking the credit for your work. You have to stand up for yourself.'

‘Hang on, Caro, don't overreact. Genevieve reckons I should just let it go.'

‘I'll bet she does. She's so manipulative. Don't forget she's mates with that Jimmy twit. Darling, you have no chance of career advancement if you let other people take credit for your work. You need to march into Mimsy's office and talk to her about it. She needs to know what a sly devil her 2IC is, and once she does she'll be grateful to you, trust me.' She leaned over and cut a chunk of cheese and wedged it between two crackers. ‘He's using you. Both in the bedroom and in the office. Don't let him.'

‘I don't know if I want that sort of confrontation, Caro,' Jessica replied. ‘Anyway, Genevieve says it's more professional to let it go.'

Caro looked at Jessica with such silent fury Jess was worried her sister-in-law's eyes might explode. Instead of the screeched lecture Jess expected, the retort was delivered in a scary hiss.

‘What is wrong with you?' Caro ran her hands through her hair. ‘You are a grown woman, you ran your own business, you have always been successful, independent and fabulous. You would never have let anyone walk all over you like this in the past. Be so careful, Jessica.'

Jess kicked off her heels and swung her legs over the arm of the couch. ‘You're right, I feel like a fish out of water. Completely at sea, all at sixes and sevenses.'

‘Come on, Jess,' Caro said and smiled as she topped up their glasses. ‘You must be able to think of more clichés than that.'

Their laughter eased the tension.

‘How did you get so bolshie and tough, Caro?' Jess asked. ‘Nothing fazes you.'

‘I got independence the hard way,' Caro explained, settling into an armchair and tucking her feet beneath her. ‘It was my dream to float down an aisle in a white dress with my future family life spread out before me; I had visions of cherubic babies, picnics and roast dinners. But the reality, as you know, is shocking.'

‘What do you mean?' Jess asked, but she had a fair idea what Caro meant.

‘It's just so lonely, Jess, even with girlfriends, or other families to hang out with. When you have a husband as hard-working as mine you soon learn that you're on your own. That all the jobs are on your own shoulders. That you can't rely on anyone else. It would almost be easier if I were a single mother; then I wouldn't have the expectation each night that Angus might actually turn up for dinner, only to be disappointed every single evening when that phone rings at 6.30p.m. with last-minute excuses.' She sighed and took a big gulp of wine.

‘Well,' Jess said, trying to be tactful. ‘It does give you all this.' Her arm swept around, indicating the high ceilings of the lofty Malvern mansion.

‘Yes, it does,' Caro nodded. ‘But often it's not worth it.'

‘But why do you care, Caro?' Jess was confused. ‘Why don't you just enjoy life as it is and have fun regardless, whether he's home or not?'

Caro turned her glass around and around while she thought about her answer. Finally she looked straight into Jess's eyes. ‘Because I love him. And I miss him.' The hum of the outside traffic was the only sound that cut through the silence as each woman stared into her own wine glass. ‘In fact, I've planned a little surprise for him in a few weeks' time.' Caro smiled as she thought about it, then looked up.

‘But enough about me, Jess. I worry about you. You've moved to the city but you've left your fortitude back in the country. You're being pushed around in the office, blinded by Genevieve and seduced by that awful weedy Jimmy.'

Jessica sighed and looked at her sister-in-law. What she was saying was completely the opposite of Genevieve's advice. Who was right? Who should she listen to?

Jessica couldn't sleep. Her stomach churned with wine and curry and her mind flickered with questions and worries.

She wished she could talk to Nick; he'd help her sort it out. But she could hardly talk to him about her and Jimmy. Bloody Jimmy. She punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape. Why did he have to be so irresistible? Damn him.

She'd been so proud of herself for setting up this new life in the city, and making a go of it at her new job. And it was going well, it was. But she still felt like the same person inside. Still as confused and lost as she'd felt for the past year. That hadn't changed.

Kicking off the doona, she flipped over on to her back to stare at the ceiling. Somehow she'd thought she'd feel different in the city; better. But here she was, plain old Jess, with a new job, a new address and a new boyfriend, but still the same woman. What was she doing wrong, she wondered? What the hell was it that she wanted? In frustration she got up and padded into the dark ensuite to pour herself a glass of water.

She'd hoped that living closer to her boys would mean that she could see them more often, but despite dozens of calls and emails to Graham she'd only once managed to see them for half an hour, one afternoon when Samantha had called to say she was at the park with them. Jess had raced out of the office and into a taxi but the visit felt stilted and uncomfortable. The boys were distant and grumpy. ‘They had a really late night,' Samantha had explained, but Jess had gone away feeling empty and hurt.

She sipped her water slowly and stared out at the sliver of moon outside her window. She loved her job, but she didn't enjoy feeling she was being cheated by Jimmy, and no matter how much she tried to rationalise his actions she still felt used.

She flung herself back onto the bed and flicked on the television where a self-help guru was banging on about how YOU have the power to change and only YOU can find direction and steer your life. She was about to switch it off, but the hypnotic nature of the ad kept her transfixed, and instead she lay there half-listening, half-thinking. She was so convinced by the guy's message in the end that she almost bought the bloody DVD set for four easy payments of $49.95. But the message was clear enough without it: she had to stop floating aimlessly. She needed to listen to her own instincts; a skill her father had that she'd always admired.

It was time to take action, to make a plan. She drifted off into a troubled half-sleep narrated by the television voice-over, which wove into her unconscious. She dreamt she was the captain of a ship, guiding it towards an idyllic island, where her boys frolicked happily.

When she awoke, sunlight was streaming in through the window. She turned off the television and lay staring at the blank screen. She felt clear and light. She knew what she wanted.

That weekend was a flurry of activity for Jess. Her sense of purpose held strong and she viewed apartments all Saturday morning until she found one she liked. She delivered her application for a small flat in Prahran by hand to the real estate agent that afternoon, and was rewarded for her efforts by Sunday morning, when a call informed her that her application had been successful.

With a plan in place to move in during the week, she rang Graham's new wife, Karen. Graham was interstate and the boys' stepmother was such a mousy little pushover that Jess soon had an afternoon with her children organised. Things were looking up.

‘Cheers!' Three glasses clinked. ‘Here's to us,' Songbird said and raised her glass to the back paddock and to the future of the planet.

‘Cheers,' Rainbow said, and Nick joined in. The night was still. Nick looked up at the treetops where not a breath of wind shifted the tallest leaves. The three of them were wrapped warmly in coats and hats in anticipation of a frosty night.

‘I can't believe we might actually have an investor,' Songbird said. ‘We're going to be able to expand, bring in loads of compost and manure and really go to town on this thing.'

‘Aren't you going to tell me who it is?' Nick asked.

‘Nah, sorry, Nick. It's all hush-hush. This company wants complete confidentiality: they're terrified that word will get out before the deal is done.'

‘They probably think that another company will come and pay you double,' Nick said.

‘No, the coin this investor's spending is phenomenal. And they're supplying land, too, so we can do it on an enormous scale. We'll be able to power the whole village in a couple of years.'

‘I can't believe it,' said Nick. ‘It actually works; it actually makes power?'

‘You'd better believe it, buddy boy,' Songbird said.

‘How? It still doesn't make sense to me.'

‘Well we've developed further from that pit in the ground you saw last time.' Songbird leaned forward and rubbed the chill from her fingers, then glanced up as a nearby wombat shuffled into his hole.

‘We now make the terra preta in that construction that we were looking at earlier.'

‘Your bio-char lab?' Nick asked indicating the fridge-sized metal container sitting atop the terra preta pit. ‘I remember you telling me all about it in great detail last month but I hadn't imagined it would look quite like that. So it all breaks down in there, does it?'

‘Yep, and as the manure, the mould and the carcasses do their decomposing work and the timber turns into charcoal, the gas that is released is collected and fed into the fuel cell, which produces electricity.'

Rainbow pointed overhead to a paper Chinese lantern holding a single light globe. ‘Isn't it gorgeous? It's our own homemade electricity. It's so exciting. I feel a bit like God, you know. I reckon She'd be proud of us.'

‘How do you keep the power coming as a constant, you know, so it doesn't drop out?'

‘We're working on that now, actually,' Songbird explained to Nick. ‘We've devised a series of six pits. They work in annual cycles, with the seasons. Our first pit is at power-making stage. It will run out of the vapour that is the by-product of the process after two to three months. We have a second pit all ready to go, full of seaweed, manure, cuttings, clippings and compost, and we fired it yesterday. It has a week before it settles into a lovely, organic, living, breathing beast. Then we shift the lab onto that second pit. But our fuel cells will be fully charged at that point so there is no interruption to the power supply. And then the first pit will be ready for seedlings. It is the most outstanding soil you could ever imagine. Black as tar, soft and rich. Seeds grow into plants overnight. The fruit will grow to enormous proportions.'

‘You'll do well at this year's agricultural show,' Nick said as he stamped his feet to stop his toes going numb.

‘Yeah, I'll say – we'll be accused of giving them steroids,' Songbird laughed and went on. ‘Basically each pit will be at a different stage of development. One: freshly filled with rubbish, poo, and seafood and about to fire; two: producing power; then three: seedlings; and four: growing; five and six: mature plants and harvest. It all depends on the season. The four green pits will be growing each season's plants. The summer pit, for example, will be fruiting strawberries, tomatoes, beans and whatever else fruits in summer, and then in winter it will become the pit making the power as that pit doesn't grow winter fruit and veg.'

‘It really is a remarkable system,' Nick said, and took a sip of his elderberry wine. ‘And it's wonderful that it's finally up and running after all our hard work over the last few months.'

‘It's amazing how little space it takes up, too,' Rainbow said. ‘You can do it on less than a quarter acre, really. Obviously the larger the pits and the bio-char lab the greater the power, but we're already running one light globe and our fridge off the small test operation.'

‘It's so incredible,' Nick said. ‘I'm honoured to have been along for the ride.'

‘It is pretty amazing. But the thing is, Nick, there's still a lot of construction involved if we want to seal the deal with this investor and we're going to need your help.'

‘I'm here for you right now, girls: you can count on me at the moment. But I am thinking of going walkabout for a while. I'm just feeling a little bit ... I don't know.'

Rainbow's blue eyes melted in concern. ‘Awww, Nick, you miss her. You're such a sweet thing.' She patted him on the back of the hand.

Songbird leaned back in her chair with her workboot-clad feet stretched out and her arms folded. ‘He is a stupid, dozy bugger. That's what he is.'

Both Rainbow and Nick looked up at her. ‘Excuse me?' Nick said.

‘What did you bloody let her go for? Rainbow misses her, Tori mopes around here like a misery-guts, the girls in the store miss her. You could have stopped her and you didn't.'

‘I get to speak to her a couple of times a week when she rings,' Rainbow protested. ‘We have a good old natter.'

‘You miss her!' her mate said forcefully. ‘I can tell: you're all mushy. It shits me.'

‘You miss her too,' Rainbow accused.

‘Yeah, yeah, all right. I miss the stupid cow too.'

Nick sat listening to the exchange before he stood up for himself. ‘Songbird, it's not as easy as that. I couldn't have stopped her. First of all, she had to go and do this, she had to prove that she was good enough with her art to earn a real living out of it. I think it's very important to her professionally. She needed it. And if I had stood in her way, she would always have resented me. She would forever have wondered what might have been. And I don't want to be that guy.' He swirled his wine around his glass, then looked up at the women. ‘And anyway, Songbird, what makes you so sure she would have said yes? She's not interested in me; she's interested in that dickhead in town.'

Songbird snorted with derision.

Taylor appeared before them in his pyjamas, shivering in the cold night air. ‘She'll be back by the end of the month,' he said, then shook himself off after relieving himself on the lemon tree, and went back inside.