Chanel Sweethearts (4 page)

That evening Jess pulled into her driveway and killed the engine. She stared at the weatherboard homestead that sat amid the dry paddocks. The last rays of sun stroked its west wall and the orange glow settled on her arum lilies, staining them peach.

How much longer could she face walking into that empty house? She couldn't believe she used to grumble about the noise and nag for the kids to pick up their Lego.

She sat in the car, dry-eyed and empty. She was so tired of faking brightness and cheer all day.

Jessica clearly remembered the day Graham and the boys had come into her life. She'd been walking from the kitchen to cross through the cafe when she'd noticed a little shoe wiggling from the top section of the shelving unit. She'd sped up her journey, fearing the worst. Sure enough, a baby, about a year old, had managed to use the shelves as a ladder and was now balancing precariously between the linguine and the one-and-a-half-metre drop to the timber floor.

‘What are you doing?' Jess had grabbed the chunky, squirming babe around his tubby little belly. ‘Are you a monkey? This isn't a palm tree, you know!'

The boy squealed and kicked his little legs in glee at having been caught. Jessica laughed. She loved children, she always had, and this one was gorgeous with his wispy soft blond toddler bob, red denim overalls, and eyes the colour and clarity of a Whitsundays' sky. Jessica felt a tightness in her chest, one she hadn't known was even there, snap and release. It was like ice-cream melting on the inside.

‘Who are you?' she whispered as she stood there, holding this magic little person around the waist.

‘Callum?' A deep rumble called out and the owner of the voice quickly followed. A tall, thin man emerged from the glass hallway that led to the gallery.

‘Oh, there you are! I've been looking for you.' He sounded very terse but Jessica could only presume he'd been worried.

‘I am sorry, has he been bothering you?' the man asked. At his first glimpse of Jessica, a smile came to his tanned face.

‘Not at all, I just rescued him from the top shelf, that's all. I was worried he might fall. But no harm done, he's delightful,' she said as she reluctantly handed her new charge back to his dad.

‘No, he isn't!' The man looked at his son disbelievingly. ‘Oh, you're a monkey!' he said. The scolding was met with peals of giggles. The child clambered up to his dad's shoulders and grasped handfuls of the thick, overgrown ginger hair.

Jessica giggled right along with him. ‘That's exactly what I called him!' she said. ‘He certainly likes climbing.'

‘Yes, too much, I'm afraid. He's a real worry.' He leaned down, unattached Callum and placed him on the ground. Doing so allowed his eyes to wander over Jessica's open, friendly face, surreptitiously taking in her attractive figure and her wild blonde locks.

‘His name is Callum, and I am Graham,' he said putting out his right hand to shake Jessica's. Their eyes met and Jessica smiled shyly at Graham's frank and open gaze. The freckles smattered across his whole face made him seem even more youthful than he probably was. His grin, with head cocked to one side, was both enquiring and endearing – it gave him a cheeky quality. She decided she liked him. And she definitely liked Callum.

‘Hello, Graham, hello, Callum. What a pleasure to meet you both.'

‘Ooooof.' Graham suddenly lost his footing as a small towheaded dynamo barrelled in from the gallery door and slammed into his leg. ‘And this little hurricane is Liam. Liam's older than Callum by eighteen months.'

‘Thirsty!' Liam said, arms still in a firm grip around his dad's legs.

‘Well let's have a chocolate milkshake then,' Graham said, and smiled at the boy. ‘Would you like to join us?' Graham asked Jessica and indicated the cafe. ‘Apparently this is a wonderful spot for a snack, and I'd love to thank you for saving my son.'

Jessica smiled, wondering how to reveal that she was in fact the owner. But this concern was quickly overshadowed with another quandary: was it appropriate to sit down for a drink with a very attractive father?

As if he read her mind, Graham followed up the invitation with a subtle disclaimer. ‘The boys don't get to be around female company too often; you would be doing me a favour.'

Oh, he's single, she thought, and eagerly accepted his offer. Four months later Graham and his boys moved in with her and a wonderful new life began.

She drew in a deep shuddering breath and noticed that her car was now enveloped in darkness. She needed some strength and inspiration to keep going. There was only one place to turn. She picked up her mobile and rang her dad.

His phone bleeped, the cork popped and the intercom buzzed simultaneously. ‘Ya gotta love the busy city life,' Richard laughed to himself. ‘Come on up,' he said into the intercom, then placed the bottle on the bench and pressed
accept
on his mobile.

‘Hello, baby girl,' Richard boomed into the phone. He still hadn't worked out that mobile phones didn't need to be yelled at. ‘Please tell me I can order the hit-man ... okay, I'll hold off for now, but let me know, and
pow
– marketing-manager brains all over the Saab windscreen ... What do you mean? ... Okay, okay, too graphic.'

Still chatting, Richard opened the front door to let Genevieve in. She air-kissed him and, dropping her bag on the hall table, went to pour the open bottle of champagne. As usual, Genevieve was impeccably dressed; she always managed to be both classic yet fashionably up-to-the-minute in her style. Her Camilla Franks sequined caftan top was in the bright colours of tropical North Queensland and her bright orange Fendi buckle-toe pumps peeped out from under her straight-leg Bogner pants, which had been tailor-fitted to show her slim frame.

‘So how are you, darling girl? How'd the store go today? ... A mouse huh? Got traps set? Good girl ... Yes, he's a good man ... You been on a date with him yet? ... All right, I'll stop playing Cupid, he's just such a great bloke though ... Have you done all your setting up for tourist season? ... I bet it looks lovely. Well done, you're a marvel, girl, you really are ... Has the council approved the plans for the back deck reno? ... God they're slow.'

Richard raised a finger to hold off on the glass of bubbles Genevieve was offering.

‘Yeah, Angus is good, bloody busy though, never gets a chance to see the kids. Had a complaining email from Caro today ... Yes, you're right, she does her best ... She's still a pain in the arse though ... This weekend? Can't, darling, Genevieve and I are off to Port Douglas for a few days. There's a new golf course at Peppers Balé I need to try ... Yes, sorry about that, but never mind – Christmas is around the corner and I hope to grab a couple of weeks down there then ... Must go, you're amazing and brilliant, hang in there, can't wait to see you ... love you too. Bye, honey.'

‘Hello, Gen,' Richard finally greeted his guest with a proper kiss. ‘How are you?'

‘Hello, darling; fine thanks.' Gen tossed her bouncy blonde highlights. ‘How's Jessica?'

‘Not great, poor love. She didn't say anything but I can tell by her voice. I really need to get down there and see her. It's a big ask, running the cafe and managing the property. She does a great job. At least she has Nick doing the bulk of the work on the estate now.'

‘You must be proud of her; she's a lovely woman,' Genevieve said and perched on the edge of the couch.

‘I am, I really am, I just wish she'd find a fella – someone to take care of her.'

‘Well, she'll find someone when the time's right.'

‘I know. It was the same after Eva died; it took me ages to get back out there again. I guess I just need to give her time to work things out.'

Genevieve nodded. ‘She has to do it in her own time. Nick's obviously a great friend and that's what she needs right now.'

She stood and placed her glass on the side table. ‘Just popping in to powder my nose before we head out to dinner.'

‘And such a pretty nose it is too,' he said.

He looked after her in wonder. He was a lucky, lucky man. He had met Genevieve six months earlier when Beef Bargains had been presented with a new television advertising campaign. He hadn't taken in any of the information about demographic trends, media spread or research results because he'd been transfixed by the feisty fifty-year-old creative director's enthusiasm, broad smile and swinging hips.

Richard had pursued her under the guise of following up some important figures. As a board member it really wasn't his role, which was something they both knew, but conveniently forgot as they giggled over chardonnay at Nobu the following week.

He'd had dates and brief relationships since Eva passed away twenty years before, but there had been nothing so completely overwhelming as his current love affair with Genevieve. They were on the same wavelength; they had the same hobbies– although her skiing skills were a bit on the adventurous side for him. He loved every minute of her company and, at sixty-six, he was starting to feel that he had to make every minute count. So he was about to ask her to move in with him. Maybe even to marry him. Who knew what the future held? He just wanted to be sure Genevieve was in it. She could be a schemer, though, but he loved being kept on his toes. She always had a plan going; just last week she'd tried to manipulate him into investing in a new apartment tower a friend of hers was financing, and before that she'd spent weeks angling to get a look at his share portfolio. He grinned as he pulled on his navy blue reefer jacket, pocketing keys, mobile and wallet, and cheerfully brushed away her attempts to manage his money while finding her determined efforts quite amusing. He winked at her as she placed the glasses in the dish-drawer and watched fondly as she quickly reorganised his wine glass cupboard to better suit her own sense of style.

He was sure Gen would love to encourage Jessica to move out so she could redecorate the homestead, perhaps turn Jessica's crazy garden into something more structured. He grinned at the fun of playing financial games with his partner. She was far more the challenging adversary than the gentle lover and he relished every minute. Others might find it mercenary or unhealthy to be in a relationship where his partner was keen to know all his business affairs and net worth, but it kept Richard's blood pumping: he loved second-guessing her and sidestepping around her attempts to manipulate him. And he had to admit, he was completely dazzled by her sultry looks.

He was looking forward to the evening he had planned for them. He was taking his beautiful Genevieve to the Japanese restaurant across the road, then off to see a show at Her Majesty's Theatre, a short stroll away, then onto the Melbourne Supper Club for after-show drinks.

They grabbed their jackets and headed out. As he was closing the door behind them he glanced up at the portrait of Jessica hanging on the wall of the foyer. A shadow of concern passed over him.

The large sheet threatened to curl back onto itself but a carefully placed paperweight at each corner kept it flat.

The plans were good. In fact, better than good. They were brilliant. Sure, there was the irritating administration of town planning and infrastructure, but it could be bypassed by greasing the greedy shire palms with several thou.

The ‘country-style' houses were French provincial in design. Perfect. Box on a block. No shape was cheaper to build.

The two-acre blocks were troublesome: it meant only room for forty homes. If the surveyor could be convinced to be a little creative with the boundaries, at least another two could be squeezed in. Land like this didn't become available that often and with the council's new push for medium-density housing in the area, it was just a money-maker waiting to happen.

After all, why waste that view on a few hundred cows?

The mid-morning brunch traffic was queued out the door. The chef had been slinging bacon and eggs in various formats since the first customers had arrived ready for breakfast at eight a.m.

Tourist season was fully underway. Although the summer holidays hadn't actually started, the warmer weather was beating down, the townies were flooding in for the weekend and Jessica had five front-of-house staff on as well as two cooks and two apprentices in the kitchen.

‘Are you sure you're going to be okay for an hour or so?' Jessica asked her manager, Linda.

‘Yes, of course we'll be fine. You go to your Pony Club customers,' the older woman assured her.

‘Just keep an eye on Trixie, she's still finding her feet,' Jess warned as she picked up baskets overflowing with home-baked treats.

‘What a diplomatic way of putting it,' Linda replied with a gleam in her eye. ‘Table for six, sir?' She turned to a customer. ‘Of course. Would you mind waiting five minutes while we set one up for you?'

Jessica drove into the car park at the Pony Club. A stab of pain in her stomach reminded her how much Liam and Callum had loved it there. Callum had been too small to ride, but he'd been her little helper as she sold her muffins and friands.

Liam loved the dressage, and he was such a natural. She really hoped he'd continued with his riding. She thought of his father. Somehow she doubted it.

It had broken her spirit entirely to finally decide to sell Tango. She'd considered keeping him in the top paddock, but seeing him every day was too painful. Liam had only been four when he'd had his first ride. It had been at Rainbow and Songbird's house, at one of the kids' parties. Although Liam had vehemently declined the offer of a pony ride, Jessica knew him well enough to realise that was just nerves. She knew how he shied away from anything new and different. She also knew all about his inner bravado, his adventurous side (not to mention his love of old western movies) and knew that if he could just find the courage he'd have a great time. It had taken all afternoon to convince him to try. He'd spent the day walking up and down beside the pony, chatting to Songbird in his barely coherent little-boy prattle.

Tears of pride had welled in Jess's eyes as she noticed him take the reins and walk the pony a short way himself. Eventually, without any encouragement from her at all, he'd asked if he could have a turn. She couldn't have been more proud of her little guy at that moment. And the grin across his face for the entire ten minutes of the ride lit up her heart. He was hooked. It wasn't long before they found the steady and calm Tango for him, and he began to have riding lessons each week, before moving on to join Pony Club after a few months. Jessica didn't mind the early starts, the competitions and the pre-dawn drives every weekend. It was worth it because Liam had discovered a passion.

She took a deep breath and sidled past the floats and four-wheel drives to the clubhouse. The city mums were all decked out in gleaming leather riding boots and spotless pastel Ralph Lauren polo shirts.

Jess always enjoyed it when the city tourists flocked into town for the summer: not only was it great for business, it also broadened her social life as well. Of course some of the Pony Club mums were complete princesses who liked to parade around in jodhpurs and never touch any horseflesh, but they were always good fun. If she moved to the city she'd get to see more of them, she mused.

Jimmy had called again last night to tell her that Mimsy wanted to meet with her, so they'd set a date for early the following month. She still hadn't spoken to anyone but Tori about the job in any detail, but she was pretty sure she was going to accept it.

‘Jess, daaaahling!' boomed Cat. ‘You're a sight for sore eyes. Look at you, laden with goodies. Here, let me help you.'

‘Hi, Cat, hi, Pip, hello, Fi, morning, Pet, Pen, Flick, Sav, Cyn, Vi.'

The equestrian mums brayed a chorus of hellos and huddled around to sift through Jess's offerings, thrusting money at her.

‘Jess, darling,' said Fi, grasping a clutch of mud muffins for her gang of children. ‘I haven't seen you since ... well, you know. We've been travelling quite a bit this year and this is the first time we've been down in simply ages ... I just wanted to offer my sympathies,' she babbled in her high-speed staccato manner. She slammed her Fendi shades down to hide her embarrassment. ‘How are you doing?'

‘Hanging in there,' Jess replied. ‘I'm fine, really.'

‘We miss little Liam. Such a seat ... I've never seen such elegance in a little boy. My Missy and Gracie just adored him.' Aware she was pouring salt on a wound, Fi abruptly changed subjects.

‘Jessica, look at you: you look beautiful,' said Tori, who had just walked up from the stables with one of her riding boots green with fresh manure. ‘I love your Chanel earrings, darling. Are they new?'

‘Hello, sweetie, yes, they were a birthday gift from my gorgeous dad,' Jessica said and smiled down at the muck dripping from her friend's footwear. ‘That's a nice scent, new from Paris is it?'

‘Yes, Calvin Klein's latest, Eau de Equine. You like?' she said with a laugh, and she raised the offending boot to offer Jessica a smell.

‘Look, I'll pass thanks, pet. Muffin? I think they've left a few.'

‘Oooh, yes please. Do you have time for a Nescafé? I must tell you about the gorgeous bits and pieces I snapped up in Red Hill during the week.'

‘Yeah, sure,' Jessica replied. ‘Linda's got the shop under control.'

They went into the club's kitchen and Tori busied herself with the kettle.

‘Sorry I didn't get a chance to see you properly when you were down mid-week,' Jessica said.

‘That's okay. Here you go. I'm afraid it's not up to the General Store standards.'

‘I'll cope; it's caffeine, isn't it?' Jessica replied. When Jess had fallen in love with Graham and gained an instant family, she had relied on Tori for advice and support. Tori had been more than a great part-time neighbour: she'd become a true friend. Their two families had spent weekends with the kids rough-and-tumbling in and out of the adjoining properties, getting loads of exercise as they ran the one hundred and fifty metres between each kitchen door, enjoying access to two biscuit tins and two sets of sympathetic ears. Jess's boys used to count the days till the weekend when the family next door would arrive.

‘Oh, look who's here, it's your sister-in-law.' Tori brought Jess back from her daydream with a nudge as Caro passed by the window.

‘That's right, she's joined the Pony Club, hasn't she? Well, Charlotte has, anyway.'

‘She's taken over completely, you know how bossy she is,' Tori grumbled as she unwrapped her raspberry muffin.

‘Oh, she's all right, that's her coping mechanism. She's nervous unless she feels well entrenched in a social group.'

‘Ladies.' Caro smiled tightly as she entered the room and gave each woman a brief peck on their left cheek. ‘Tori, I'm glad you're here,' she said. ‘I wanted to discuss the urn. Who do I see to ensure the urn is on and boiling well ahead of the one p.m. break?'

‘Well, we take turns setting up for lunch. The roster's on the noticeboard,' Tori said, pointing it out.

‘Yes, but it's not a very efficient roster, is it?' Caro clucked. ‘It doesn't spell out precisely what tasks each rostered-on member is expected to perform. I think I'll update it and pin it up for next week so there is absolutely no room for error.' She unpinned the laminated card from the board.

‘And,' she said, clearing coffee cups and dirty sugar spoons from the sink, ‘I've decided to have a little social gathering for all the Pony Club parents here at the club rooms in a few weeks' time. I've noticed there are a number of new members who float around and don't know anybody and it's time we got together.' She flicked a distasteful-looking Chux into the rubbish bin and rummaged under the sink for a clean one.

‘What a lovely idea.' Jessica smiled at her sister-in-law in encouragement, which prevented Tori from butting in.

‘Well,
ciao,
I'm off to run it past the other members,' Caro said, heading out to the tack room.

‘Bloody hell, that Caro! Don't you think she's taking it a bit far?' Tori said. ‘She's only a new member herself.'

‘That's probably why she's doing it,' Jessica mused, as she watched Caro approach two women slinging tack a few metres away. ‘Well, I have to head back to the store, but I'd love to catch up later if you're free?' Jessica asked and placed her cup in the sink.

‘Yes, sure,' Tori said, ‘I'd love to have a chat. There's some stuff I need to talk about too.'

‘Really?' Jessica asked as she picked up her basket. ‘Is everything okay?'

Tori's face tightened and her eyes filled. ‘Um, well, not really, darling, but do you mind if we talk about it tonight? I have to get back to the kids just now.'

Jess was immediately alarmed. ‘Sure, sweetheart,' she said, putting an arm around her friend. ‘I'll be home after seven. Come over when you're ready.'

‘Thanks, love, I'll see you then,' Tori said, pulling her sunglasses over her face and heading back out to the Pony Club paddock. Jess watched her leave, filled with concern for her friend and anxious to find out what was making her so miserable.