The Quilt (22 page)

The door closed and Dr Hansen spoke immediately.

“You know I cannot offer
personal information about a patient unless you are a relative or I have their permission?”

“
I’m her sister.”

“
Can you please tell me where Sandy’s parents are?”

“Absent
.”

“
Absent literally?”

“No
, absent emotionally.”

The old man sighed
, and rubbed his eyes with a wrinkled hand.  He then replaced his glasses and continued.

“She will need
support though this process.  Have you any medical knowledge or a medical background Joanne?”

“No.  I sense you are not optimistic
.”

“Joanne
,” he reached over and took her hand.

“I would be much more optimistic if we were having this conversation twelve months ago.
  Perhaps even longer.  I may be getting ahead of myself.  Until we get the biopsy done and the pathology report back, I really don’t have all the information.”

“Is it normal for a suspicious mass to be located in
such a young woman?”

He smiled
and the shadow of memories clouded his eyes.  For a brief moment he seemed to drift away from the conversation before gathering his thoughts and continuing with the present.

“Cancer itself is not normal.  By definition
, cells are multiplying abnormally and rapidly.  If by normal, you mean common, then no, it is not common for this, assuming it is a malignant mass, to be found in such a young woman.  But cancer is not predictable and it does not discriminate.  Therefore, when someone of Sandy’s age is affected, the disease often goes undiagnosed for longer.  Woman of the so-called higher risk age group tend to be more vigilant and often seek medical advice more rapidly.”

“How invasive is the core biopsy?  Sandy is not fond of any procedures especially if they involve injections
.”

“Yes
, I gathered that.  It is uncomfortable but not unbearable.  Joanne, there is no option.  The biopsy is necessary to diagnose and prescribe treatment for Sandy.  If she was to refuse this procedure I suspect she would be less fond of the repercussions that would eventually result.”

He let go of Joanne’s hand and wrote down two
phone numbers without the need to locate the information.

“These are c
ouncillors.  If you, or Sandy, need any medical information please feel free to call me. Use these numbers to access general information or support. They can also advise you of the financial assistance or counselling services that are available to caregivers.” 

“I really don’t think this will be necessary
.”

He smiled kindly
.

“Humour an old man please.  Put them away in a safe place
, just in case.  I look forward to speaking to you again when we have the results back from pathology.”

The elderly man followed Joanne out to the reception area.  He smiled fondly at Sandy and nodded to Joanne before turning his back and walking away.

Doctor Hansen returned wearily to his desk.  He sat down and reached across to pick up Sandy’s file. 

Not even twenty five years old, he shook his h
ead sadly.  She should have all her life ahead of her. 

Why didn’t they get medical advice as soon as the
y found a lump?  What was it? Was it denial? He read on to jog his memory. She had said six months, maybe more before she even got it investigated. 

She had looked up at him her eyes
, pleading for some offer of reassurance.  Of course, he couldn’t be positive; there was always the chance of some sort of miracle.  But he was getting too old to believe in miracles.  All the indications and the length of time that had lapsed before diagnosis and commencement of treatment, made her prognosis gloomy at best.

Often the people offering support were full of good intentions and a romantic notion their sympathy would improve the outcome
for their loved ones.  All too often, he had watched as the so-called caregivers had crumpled into ineffective emotional wrecks in the face of treatment and the fury of the grief process.

He sensed Joanne was tough
, assertive and logical.  She had taken control of the situation when she knew Sandy would not cope.  She had formulated questions, weighed up his answers and he had no doubt she would research the missing words that professionally he was not able to offer her today.

Of course, he knew they weren’t sisters.  Where the hell was this young woman’s biological family?  Emotionally absent?  Just as well she had the support of her friend.  He was sure she was going to need it. 

Dr Hansen put down Sandy’s
file and rubbed his eyes.  As a young man he had watched his grandmother ravaged by disease, fighting to hang on to the fragile string of life that bound her to her family.  It was on the day that she had died that he had lost the unshakable optimism of youth.  It was on the day that she died that he had dedicated his life to helping the victims of cancer.  Now, as an old man, he had lost the ability to walk every road with every patient and remain unscarred by their journey.                                     

Dr Hansen
took a pen in his hand and began to draft his resignation.

“He thinks I have cancer, doesn’t he?”

“He thinks the biopsy will give him that information and allow him to plan a course of treatment
.”

They lapsed in
to silence. 

Joanne
glanced over at Sandy.  She was steering with her right hand and furiously chewing at the nails on her left.  There was small fleck of blood forming in the crease of her mouth.

How long h
ad she actually known there was a lump in her breast?   Dr Hansen had indicated twelve months may have passed. Her thoughts were interrupted as Sandy suddenly broke the silence.

“I want to take you fishing
.”

“What tonight?”

Sandy rounded on Joanne her eyes flashing angrily.

“Did I bloody say I want to take you fishing tonight? I
just said I want to take you fishing.”

“Please watch the road or you will get us both killed
.”

“I’m sorry!  It just isn’t fair
.”

Sandy
pulled the car over to the kerb and rested her head on the steering wheel.  A flood of uncontrollable tears ran down her cheeks and formed pools of dark staining on her skirt. 

“
I agree, it isn’t fair.”

“Do you think I might die?”

“Sandy, I’m not even thinking along those lines.  Let’s just get this biopsy done and formulate a plan from there.”

“
Can you stay until I’ve recovered?”

“
Do you think I’d leave after doing all that housework?”

“Hi, just returning your call.  You rung and left a message on the answerphone earlier this afternoon?”

“Yes
, Joanne there are two things I need to discuss with you.   Would you please ring Stephen and sort things out?  I have explained that you do not wish to communicate with him again. But he appears incapable of comprehending the situation.  Obviously, it isn’t sufficient to leave messages on your phone, he also seems to feel it necessary to constantly ring me.  Maybe he thinks that will get some response from you.”

“Can’t you
just tell him to stop ringing?”

H
er mother interrupted.

“
I have told him to stop ringing!  Joanne, it is not up to me to sort out your personal affairs.  I have explained I have no influence over your decisions and do not feel it is my business to try to advise you.  He needs to be told by you to move on with his life.”

“Alright
, I will deal with Stephen.  There was a second thing?”

“Your father has asked if you could come over to discuss your work situation.  Don’t interrupt!  He told me there is a position that will be advertised
from next week and despite your work history he would make sure your application was viewed favourably.”

“Can you please tell him I am grateful, but I really can’t c
onsider employment at least for the next few weeks.”

“What the hell are you talking about Joanne?  Do you know what your
resume would look like to a prospective employer?  I hardly think you are in a position to turn down any opportunity.”

“
I wish I could explain.  There is a problem I have to help Sandy through before thinking about my own future.”

“That gir
l will always have a problem and if you keep insisting on helping her she will always be a problem to you.  Is she pregnant?”

“No
, she isn’t pregnant and I really am not in a position where I feel comfortable discussing her personal situation.  You will just have to trust me.  I need to be here and I need to be available for her.”

“Well
, Joanne, that makes two difficult phone calls you will have to make.  I sure as hell am not going to be the one that tells your father you would rather be unemployed than accept a position in one of Auckland’s most prestigious legal firms!”

The telephone went dead.

Chapter 19

“Blake and Caroline Shaw”
 

The legal process, valuations and documentation required to complete the sale and purchase of Twin Pines ground on for weeks.  Routines were disrupted by the strangers that were assigned to inspect buildings and independently value the plant, equipment and livestock. 

Paul
removed himself from the process as much as possible.  He continued to make decisions on a day to day basis but delayed anything that involved long term property or stock management.   He wanted to detach himself from the landslide that had started with his decision to sell. 

Three weeks later
, the solicitor rung to confirm the agreement on Twin Pines had gone unconditional. 

The computer sat open next to a pile of property magazines and the weekend newspaper.  Paul had been scanning the university sites and real estate advertisements hoping to find a new direction.

He
walked to the bench and plugged in the jug.  When he turned back a middle-aged man had appeared in the doorway.  He was greying at the temples and deep lines formed grooves at the corners of his mouth and at the edges of his eyes.  He gave the impression he was smiling even though his expression reflected nothing but uncertainty.  He extended his hand and walked awkwardly forward.

“I thought it was about time I introduced myself.  I am Blake Shaw and you must be Paul?”

“Yes.  I believe congratulations are in order.  You went unconditional on Twin Pines and Kean’s farm today.”

“And I believe I owe you an apology
.”

Paul frowned
.  He had no idea what Blake Shaw was referring to.

“I feel I put some pressure on you to consider my offer.  I do realise it was not only an importan
t but also an incredibly hard decision for you to make.”

Paul laughed. 

“I don’t think you owe me an apology.  The agent made us aware of your situation.  Sorry, I haven’t even asked you to come in.” 

Paul sto
od aside to allow Blake to enter.  He glanced at the open magazines and newspaper.

“Have you made any plans for yourself yet?”

“There was no point in looking seriously at my options until Twin Pines went unconditional.  But, no, I haven’t found anything that interests me yet.”

“I couldn’t tempt you to reconsider my offer?”

“To manage Twin Pines for you?  Thank you, but no.  If I wanted to continue farming here I would have retained the property.  I think if I stayed on any more than the month we have agreed to I would run the risk of becoming far too comfortable.”

“That is a probl
em I can understand.  My offer remains open if you do change your mind.  In the meantime, don’t feel pressured to move on.  I have no plans for the Shearers Quarters and could do with a hand for as long as you want to be here.”

Blake looked down and smiled.

“This must be Jess.”

The old dog struggled to her feet
on the slippery wooden floor.

“She is a beauty.  No wonder you didn’t want to let her go
.”

“She was in her day.  But she wouldn’t be much use to you now as a working dog
and she is spayed so her breeding days are well over.”

“If you have the time I’d appreciate you giving me a hand settling the dogs in.  Are you sure you are happy to let them all stay on the property
?”

“I have to be realistic.  They are working dogs and where ever I end up it is unlikely ther
e would be a job for them. I would like to make sure their needs are catered for and they are settled well before I move on.”

Blake nodded
.

“Perhaps we could start tomorrow if you have time to spare
and don’t mind me intruding prior to possession?  I would like to ask your opinion regarding setting up better access between the two properties and also get you to go through your normal stock rotations.” 

He glanced down at his watch
.

“
I had better not take up any more of your time.”

Blake
got up and walked to the door before hesitating.

“
I’ve been involved in several diversified properties over the years. I would be happy to offer you any guidance I can.  The door is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Paul made himself another cup of coffee before settling
back down at the computer.

Jean and Sean took possession of the home unit within days of Twin Pines passing out of Clarke family hands.  They moved off the farm over a period of weeks.  Their life’s possessions had been stored in every corner of the house and farm buildings. 

It was a
stressful and emotional trip as they reduced their precious belongings and memories to fit into a unit less than half the size of the farmhouse.

Paul was grateful for the distraction
.  He helped them each day box china and breakables, photos and furniture.  Many headed straight to various charities and the rest fitted snugly in the new, cream and brown home unit that overlooked the manicured eighteenth hole of the local golf course.

A comfortable friendship soon developed between Paul and Blake.  If it was necessary to extend the period he worked on at Twin Pines Paul was sure it would be a manageable option.

Blake’s wife
, Caroline, was a petite non-descript woman that had a slightly nervous disposition. She arrived at Twin Pines daily carrying armfuls of fabric and wallpaper samples, squares of carpet and small boxes of tiles.  She had commissioned decorators to start a full refurbishment of the farm house on the day of settlement.

Massey and Auckland University sent their prospectus. Paul thumbed through the information without enthusiasm. 

Sean delivered p
iles of rural newspapers that accumulated on the table.  Advertisements and photographs of rolling pasture where circled in heavy black marker.    Nothing for sale could be compared to Twin Pines.   Even if Paul had committed years of work and vast injections of capital to complete development he would only create a shadow of his former family-owned property.

Four weeks later Paul sat at the table with a beer in his hand.

“Stop looking so har
d or you won’t see the obvious.”

Pa
ul looked up from the national newspaper opened at the Business’ for Sale section. 

“Don’t be too relaxed
, your home unit is small and you might end up with Jess as a tenant if I don’t find something soon.”

Jess looked up and wagged her tail at the mention of her name.

Sean laughed.

“We’ll manage
, I’m sure.”

Paul listlessly turned over another page
.  A tapestry of unnatural looking pictures staged on bright sunny days spread out across the newsprint, each competing for his attention.  Maybe it was the dullness, the natural lighting and untouched photographs but Pauls eyes settled on one advertisement.  He reached for his beer and read the print.  Jean glanced over and watched a small frown of concentration spread across Paul’s forehead.

“Look at this
.”  

“A v
ineyard! What the hell do you know about growing grapes?” 

“What the hell did you know about lamb and wool before you converted Twin Pines?”

“Paul, you have one opportunity to set yourself up for life with the proceeds of Twin Pines.   If you take a gamble that doesn’t pay off, there won’t be a second chance.”

Paul had continued studying the advertisement. 

“Why not look at something closer to what you have grown up with and know?  There are a number of dry stock farms for sale.  Even diversify to angora goats or alpaca’s, I believe they are making good money.   You could purchase a dairy farm and bring on a sharemilker.  Butter fat prices are set to escalate.”

Sean glanced
towards Jean but she was also focusing on the vineyard advertisement.  He gave up on making eye contact and continued.

“Purchase good land,
tidy it up and you are assured of a capital gain in years to come.  In the meantime, you could successfully manage any form of actual farming with your background.”

“A v
ineyard is a form of farming and would also provide a capital gain, Dad.”

Paul continue
d, despite the set line that was forming in Sean’s mouth.

“Waiheke
Island is only half an hour’s ferry trip from Auckland city.  Any properties with riparian rights on beaches like this, have to be sought after now and in the future.  There’s a huge population on the Island’s doorstep.”

Sean
glanced over.

“How can you justify a tiny piece of land commanding almost the s
ame money as a land holding the acreage of Twin Pines?”

“Horticulture
is intensive farming. The land price per acre would be assessed on a totally different scale to High Country land.”

Paul looked at his father’s concerned expression and softened.

“I have looked at numerous properties and businesses.  Nothing I have seen has justified even a second inspection.  This vineyard will probably also prove a disappointment or unviable financially.  But I have to look at all the alternatives if I have a chance of finding the right one.”

He folded the newspaper and stret
ched.  Sean was eyeing Paul through narrowed slits.

“You are going to ring about that property aren’t you?’

“Tomorrow’s job.”

Paul waited until the crunch of gravel could be heard on the driveway before he unfolded the paper and studied the advertisement again.

Private Sale on Waiheke Island.

Boutique Vineyard.

19 hectares (47 acres)

6 Hectares planted in approximately 25,000 vines.

Good fruit bearing.

Ca
bernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Syrah.

Pinot Gris, Chardonnay
and Sauvignon Blanc grapes.

Sale presents a unique opportunity for expansion, diversification
, development and further contribution to the export market.

5 hectares
800 Olive trees producing high quality Extra Virgin Oil.

Established Organic
Orchard planted in Lime and Lemon Trees.

Improvements include unique
Tuscan-style four bedroom home. Inground Pool.  Expansive Seaview’s.  Riparian Rights.

Two-bedroom
workers cottage.

Winery
, Tasting Room and large barrel room.

Implement Sheds, Shelter Belts, Water Dam, Irrigation and Bore.

Alfresco Style Restaurant, Café and Commercial Kitchen  (planning approval obtained).  Business to be developed by New Owner.

This premium property is on two titles. 
Potential to expand Vineyard or subdivide 6 hectare for lifestyle block without affecting commercial viability of Vineyard.

S
ituated close to popular Beaches, Country Club, shops and Matiatia Ferry for ferry easy access to Auckland City.

Idyllic lifestyle with potential for
new dynamic owner to expand, develop and diversify.

Retiring owners
of thirty years reluctantly offer property for sale.

The advertisement included three photographs that were obviously untouched and not taken by professional photographers.

The
first showed the main house.  It was a single story structure that looked to be made from solid plaster.  It was painted in an attractive terracotta colour, not bright or gaudy but rich and earthy.  Rustic heavy beams jutted from the front of the house, shadowing a wide and inviting entrance.  Purple bougainvillea hung in stark contrast over the beams, wrapping the entrance like the mouth of a cave. On either side of the heavy wooden, double front doors sat wine barrels spewing bright red geranium over their tops.

The sea formed the background
.  It gave the impression the house was situated above a bay with an expansive flat area of manicured grass running towards the edge of the cliff.

The second
photograph was taken in a large rectangular room.  The outer edges were lined with stacked barrels lying on their sides.  Their round ends protruding toward the middle of the dark room.  There were no furnishings and the floor looked to be made of large concrete tiles or stone.

The third
was taken in the vineyard itself.  Vines, uniform and bowing under the heavy weight of purple fruit ran in straight lines that reached out towards the shimmering blue of the harbour below.    Elegant bushes of red roses were planted at the head of each row.  The grass appeared to be neat and trimmed between the vines.