Paycheque (27 page)

The sun was a large red fireball not far above the horizon when they all finally said their goodbyes.

Bernadette had cried, ‘See you at ten,' at the last minute and Claire had flinched, hoping she wouldn't say any more. She hadn't told her father about her plans to find her own accommodation as yet.

Jack and Claire drove home in silence, Jack focussed on driving the ute, Claire on staring out the window and wondering what sort of evening lay in store for Derek and Maddie.

Part of her wished she'd invited them back for a bite to eat. After all, the kid had done more than just be their jockey. She really should have shown more gratitude – she'd have to remember to phone Derek the next night.

Right now she needed a long, hot bath. After that, it would be a big bowl of pumpkin soup and a quiet night in her pyjamas with a DVD.

Her mother had always made a pot of soup for tea after race days and Pony Club competitions. It had been a tradition for as long as she could remember. No matter the weather, it was always just what Claire felt like after an exhausting day out.

Claire turned back from the window at hearing her father's voice.

‘Excellent, at this rate we'll have plenty of time to be all settled before
The Bill
. It's the series final.'

Claire's heart sank as her dream evening shattered around her. ‘Is it?' she said, glancing at her father.

‘You don't mind, do you?'

‘No, not at all.'

She turned back to the window and pictured herself tucked up on her own couch in her own cute cottage with her own picket fence.

The next morning, Claire arrived at Bernadette's shop at ten minutes to ten, filled with both excitement and trepidation. David arrived soon after in a Mercedes convertible. Claire stared at the gorgeous gleaming red car.

‘Always looks better for this type of excursion to turn up in a Merc rather than a common old Holden,' David called from the window. ‘No offence, just a tactic of the game,' he added, getting out.

Claire took in his attire. He looked incredibly fetching in tan dress boots, navy chinos, and an open-necked long-sleeved blue and white striped shirt with cuffs folded back twice. The girls exchanged quick grins.

‘Thought I should at least look the part of the country man about town,' he said, twirling around to give the girls the full view. ‘Now,' he said, leaning into the car and bringing out a cardboard takeaway tray of coffees, ‘I took the liberty of collecting a few goodies along the way.' Claire and Bernadette accepted them with coos of gratitude.

‘While you drink those, if you will please peruse the itinerary,' he said, pulling two folded sheets of paper from his jacket pocket.

‘Itinerary, what a good idea!' Bernadette cried, accepting hers and shaking it open with her free hand.

Claire shook her own copy open. She was amazed to see their day allocated to driving time, six house inspections, lunch and afternoon tea breaks. Each property had a thumbnail photo, a list of ‘must have' and ‘I wish' features with boxes to tick, the agent's details, and a few lines for additional comments. She tried very hard to appear unimpressed.

‘Thanks David, you're a star. This will make things so much easier.'

‘It's just like being on a school excursion or something,' Bernadette said.

‘Just as long as you don't go putting graffiti in the toilets,' David said.

‘No,' Claire said, chuckling, ‘spit balls were more Bernadette's style.'

‘Thanks very much,
friend
.' Bernadette scowled, turning red.

‘Well, we'd better get this show on the road if we're to make our 10:30 a.m. “Picture perfect – everything and more”. Your chariot awaits,' David said, opening the two passenger doors. Unless you'd like to be chauffeured properly,' he added, shutting the front door.

‘Oh yes, let's. What fun!' Bernie cried, leaping into the back of the car.

Claire was momentarily stunned. She thought her friend would have wanted to sit up front with David.

‘Come on, Claire, in you hop,' Bernadette cried, slapping the seat beside her.

Claire gave David a shrug, bounded around to the other door and got in.

‘I would have got the door for you if you'd given me half a chance,' David said, putting on a pout.

David got in the front and fished about under his seat. ‘If we're going to be formal I'll be needing this,' he said, holding up a black cap before putting it on.

The girls packed up laughing.

David made a show of putting on his sunglasses and looking over them at Bernadette and Claire in the rear vision mirror and saying, ‘Right ladies, are we all ready to go?'

‘Yes, yes, get on with it,' they yelled through fits of giggling.

There was a collective gasp as the car rounded the bend in the driveway of the first property. It truly lived up to the headline. David brought the car to a halt on the white gravel turnaround next to a Bermuda blue BMW four-wheel drive.

‘Now wait, you two,' David instructed. ‘Let's do this properly – except without the hat; I don't want to look like a complete moron.'

Claire stared at the whitewashed cottage and front garden with its deep purple picket fence and masses of multicoloured roses tumbling over and poking through it. She told herself not to get her hopes up too much, but had to admit she had already fallen in love. It was a struggle to snap out of her daze when David opened her door.

Bernadette giggled like a schoolgirl while she waited for David to come around to her side.

The real estate agent was standing at the front door, armed with clipboard and brochures and an amused smirk.

As David and Bernadette approached him, Claire hung back, pretending to cast a critical eye over the house, but really taking the time to instruct herself not to fall at the agent's feet and beg for it to be hers.
It's probably awful inside and completely unsuitable
, she told herself, continuing the silent mantra as she made her way up the gorgeous rustic red-brick paved path.

But the house couldn't have been more perfect. Each room was lovelier and more light-filled than the last. Remembering rule number
one of buying a house – never look too interested – Claire remained mute, twisting her features into different configurations of scepticism and disinterest. She was aware of David asking questions and making lots of notes.
Thank goodness someone was
, she thought vaguely as she continued wandering through the house.

Back in the car, David and Bernadette chattered around her about this feature and that, the colours of the various rooms.

‘How about the size of that bath?' Bernie said. ‘The tiles are a little dated, but I could live with that to have a big claw-footed tub to soak in.'

‘Hmm. What about the kitchen?' David said, sounding dreamy.

‘The ceilings were nice and high, and I didn't notice any rising damp,' Bernie continued.

‘I liked that they left the bedrooms carpeted. I love bare floorboards but they're too cold in winter. And decent floor rugs cost a fortune.'

‘It's the best of both worlds. I love the deep honey colour of authentic old pine. It's so much nicer than what you get now.'

‘It's all laminated floating floors these days. Ever notice how they sound like hard plastic underfoot?'

‘Mmm. I liked the built-in bookshelves either side of the fireplace, too.'

‘Except for the fact it'll save a trip to Ikea.' David laughed. Bernie joined in. Suddenly they stopped and looked at Claire.

‘Well Claire, what do
you
think?' Bernadette demanded.

Claire was having trouble remembering the details. All she knew was that she'd liked it from the moment she'd walked in, right to when they'd walked out. It just felt right. ‘Well I…'

‘Yes?'

‘I know I shouldn't, but I absolutely love it! It's perfect! It's silly, but I don't even want to look at any more. I want this one!'

‘I know what you mean,' David said with a sigh. ‘And I agree it
does seem rather ideal. It's not too big but not too small. The rooms are a good size. The price is even in your ballpark.'

‘Well I think we should be sensible – stick with our plan and if at the end it's still the one, then that'll be that,' Bernadette said.

‘If it's meant to be, it will be,' David and Bernadette chanted together, and then laughed at their synchronicity.

‘Oh great, you're both as bad as each other,' Claire groaned. ‘Come on then, let's get going before I leap out and manhandle that agent.' She tried to sound jovial, but as they drove away her heart began to ache. She forced her attention to the description of the next property on their list: ‘Diamond in the rough'.

Claire was relieved when finally their appointed lunch hour arrived and they stopped under a sprawling gum tree at the entrance to a winery. It was clear that the first house was the pick. The next had been mutton dressed as lamb – lovely on the outside, falling down on the inside. The third, advertised as a ‘gentleman's residence', was more like an opium den with its putrid hazy atmosphere and red 1970s carpet.

She swallowed a bite of her egg, mayonnaise and lettuce sandwich.

‘Are you all right, Claire?' David enquired.

‘Yeah, it's great, thanks,' she said, making a desperate effort to sound grateful. David really had gone to a lot of trouble for her.

‘David,' Bernadette started, with her mouth half full, ‘I don't want to be a pain or anything, but do you think the other three are really worth looking at? Personally, I think the only one that has any hope is the first. I'm sick of making enthusiastic noises about peeling paint and musty odours and agreeing that, yes, everything does come back into fashion eventually. As for red and green laminex bench tops, that should be a hanging offence.'

‘I'm really not interested in anything that needs renovation,' Claire said tentatively.

David put down his sandwich, raised his hands, and looking skyward said, ‘Thank God. I thought you'd never ask. If I see another room done in apricot or peach I think I'll puke.'