Time Will Tell (24 page)

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Authors: Fiona McCallum

BOOK: Time Will Tell
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‘But he did send a present,' Barbara said, putting her glass down on the table and crossing to the sideboard, where Emily now noticed a long skinny box adorned with a purple ribbon and bow. Barbara picked it up in both hands and held it out to Emily.

What? Wow! But oh God, now I'm going to have to reciprocate, and I don't even know when his birthday is… This is why there should be a blanket rule of no exchanging gifts after people turn eighteen.

David pulled out a chair from one end of the table and indicated for her to sit. Emily concentrated on untying the bow holding the lid on the box.

Putting aside her issues over gifts, Emily allowed herself to be genuinely excited. It really was lovely of Jake to have sent her something. There was nothing like an unexpected present from someone who clearly had good taste.

Inside the box was a large postal tube. Shooting Barbara and David a quizzical glance, she lifted it out, pulled a red plastic stopper from one end, and extracted a roll of stiff paper. There were five separate sheets in all, though she had trouble keeping track because they kept rolling back into themselves. Her breath caught as she realised exactly what Jake had sent.

‘Oh wow,' she said. ‘He's done plans for the house – proper plans; with measurements and everything.' She put her hand to her now burning cheeks and instantly the unfurled pages sprang back together again. She stood up and stared at the roll, feeling a little overwhelmed at Jake's generosity and thoughtfulness. David reached around her and secured the corners with four heavy silver coasters from the other end of the table.

David and Barbara stood either side of Emily as she slowly and carefully perused each sheet, placing a hand here and there to hold down the pages as she repositioned the paperweights.

The first sheet was a floor plan, and it took Emily a few moments to ascertain which was the front and which was the back of the house. The plans were for the option of creating three bedrooms with ensuites – turning the house into a B&B – that he'd mentioned Christmas night when doing his rough sketches. The following four sheets showed the outside of the house from each side. Jake – well, she assumed this was Jake's work, though where he had found the time she had no idea; he'd only been gone four days – had even taken the trouble to add touches of colour. How lovely of him to do this for her…

Suddenly Emily was gripped with worry; he'd almost certainly expect her to engage him as architect now he'd put this much effort in. And she'd seen his work on his website; it looked very expensive – way out of her league. He'd won major awards for goodness sake. But how could she turn him down now?

Another thought struck her; was this actually a birthday present at all? Barbara had said it was, but maybe she'd just assumed. It had been wrapped in a ribbon, but there didn't seem to be a card. And if Barbara was right, why hadn't Jake mentioned her birthday when he'd called that morning?

Perhaps this was his response to the news of her possible inheritance and that she'd be able to do up the old place after all. Maybe this was his way of getting in first to stake his claim for the business. She really should have kept her mouth shut.

She hated to think that the kind, gentle, seemingly genuine man she had shared her house with on two occasions could be so calculating. But then she'd been taken in by John all those years ago.

A new thought popped into her brain; why had he sent the plans to Barbara and David and not her? That was a bit odd. At that moment David and Barbara's home phone began to ring. Emily checked her watch; it could only be telemarketers calling so close to the dinner hour.

David answered the phone and handed the portable handset to her.

‘It's for you.'

Emily accepted it with a puzzled frown.

‘Hello, Emily speaking,' she said, a little tentatively.

‘Hi Em, it's Jake. Happy birthday! Did you get my present?'

Emily was opening and closing her mouth as the polite interval in which to answer slowly evaporated.

‘Hello? Are you there?'

She finally found her voice.

‘It's so lovely of you to call – and to send the plans. We're looking at them right now; they're lovely, thank you,' she finally blurted.

‘My pleasure. I'm so disappointed I couldn't be there to help you celebrate.'

‘Where are you?'

‘About to go into dinner with a client.'

‘But it's New Year's Eve!'

‘Well, you know what they say – no rest for the wicked,' he said with a laugh. ‘I really wish I could have been there with you guys.'

Emily looked from Barbara to David. Both her friends grinned back, and looked to be very pleased with themselves.

‘That's okay, it's not exactly a milestone or anything.'

‘Oh come on, every birthday is worth celebrating. Maybe next year.'

I'd like that.
But Emily didn't have time to dwell.

‘The reason I called – aside from wishing you a happy birthday – is to make sure you understand the plans. Well, not the plans themselves – I'm sure you can work them out – but the meaning behind them. I don't for a second want you to think this is any more than a gesture on my part – a gift. You shouldn't feel bound to accept any help from me in a business capacity…'

Suddenly he stopped.

‘Oh listen to me rambling on like a lunatic. I'm just trying to say that I don't want you feeling obligated to me in any way.'

At that moment Emily realised that she'd very much like to be obligated to him – and in every way. The suddenness and forcefulness of the thought crashed through her and made her blush deeply.

‘And, for the record, the plans have nothing to do with our conversation about your inheritance this morning – or the diamonds – so please don't think this some kind of strategic business move or anything. I've actually been thinking about doing them since that first weekend when Elizabeth and I visited.'

Before I even had an inkling the place could be mine
, Emily thought.

‘I always thought the place was lovely and had great potential. And after our conversation on Christmas Day I decided to draw them up properly.'

Time was weird; it felt like finding out she could buy the house had happened both yesterday and months or even a year ago – just like leaving John, his death, and everything else that had happened. But all these things had been stuffed into only a little over six weeks. Mind-blowing really. She shook her head and refocused on Jake just as he finished speaking.

‘Okay?'

‘Thanks, I understand what you're saying.'

‘That said,' he added, ‘I would love to be involved in the project – as project manager maybe?'

‘I'd love that, but I don't think I could ever afford you, Jake. I've seen your website,' Emily said, and then added a laugh to soften her comment.

‘That's just the power of marketing, my dear. I'm sure we can come to some mutually rewarding arrangement. Now I must let you go and get on with your dinner. Sorry to keep you; I just wanted to call and clarify things. Happy birthday again. Sorry I didn't mention it when I rang earlier, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise.'

‘Thanks again so much for the plans – they're lovely – and for calling.'

‘You're more than welcome. I look forward to discussing them with you in person soon.'

‘Okay, bye.'

‘See you soon,' Jake said, and hung up.

Emily felt heavy with disappointment as she handed the phone back to David.
How soon is soon?
Hearing Jake's voice had stirred a deep longing in the pit of her stomach. ‘Right, this calls for more champagne,' David said, clapping his hands, and left the room. Emily sat down and stared at the plans while trying to decipher her feelings.

‘Having him call wasn't meant to upset you,' Barbara said, dragging out a chair and sitting down next to her.

‘It hasn't. I think it's more surprised me, because until now I didn't realise how much I felt for him. I hardly know him, but God, Barb, I miss him.'

Barbara raised her eyebrows and grinned knowingly at her friend.

‘Yes, I know. You were right, I was wrong – I'm quite possibly in love with him.'

‘Then why are you so glum?'

‘Because I wish he was here.'

‘I'm sure he'll be back soon.'

‘But whenever that is, it'll only be a visit – he lives in Melbourne, remember?' A strange expression crossed Barbara's face and Emily was about to ask, ‘What's that look for?' when David reappeared beside them with the champagne bottle with rubber stopper tucked under his left arm, a small plate in each hand, and another balanced on his right arm. Each dish held a small salad of baby spinach, chicken, roast pumpkin and fetta. She was so swept away by the beauty of the presentation that the question on her lips left her.

‘Entrée is served,' David said.

‘Thanks darling,' Barbara said, relieving him of the plates.

‘God Barbara, this is superb,' Emily said after her first mouthful.

‘Sorry, but I can't take the credit – entrée and dessert are all David's work.'

‘Well, aren't you a dark horse!?'

‘Not all beer and barbeques is our David, hey darling?' Barbara said, smiling fondly at her husband, and patting his hand.

‘Too much
MasterChef
and
My Kitchen Rules
,' he said with a dismissive wave.

‘And to think, only a few short weeks ago he was complaining about my viewing tastes,' Barbara said.

Emily smiled at her happy friends' gentle sparring. She and John had been like that once, briefly. She could imagine having such fun with Jake.

By ten o'clock Emily was having trouble staying awake, but she managed to make it to midnight, when they celebrated by pulling the strings on a couple of party poppers, cheering, and hugging.

After a week of late nights and early mornings, of stress and anguish, she'd had a lovely relaxing birthday – much better than she had ever had with John – but again Emily wished Jake had been there to stop her feeling like the fifth wheel.

Maybe next year.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Emily followed her morning routine of getting up early and letting Grace out, but instead of sitting at the table with her mug of steaming coffee, she decided to take it back to her bedroom. She wasn't hung-over from her night with Barbara and David, or even all that tired. She just felt like indulging herself, which she rarely did.

And it was pouring with rain outside again. It was nice listening to it beating down on the iron roof, and she'd managed to stop herself worrying about the damage it might be doing.
What will be will be
.

She put her mug down with a thud on the wooden chair she used as a bedside table and climbed back into bed, wondering why she didn't do this more often. Grace leapt onto the bed and curled up at her feet, instantly warming them.

Emily pushed the pillows up to support her and retrieved her mug. Leaning back into the plushness, she wallowed in a feeling of deep satisfaction. Why was she up before seven every morning, even weekends, when she didn't have a job to get to – or anywhere else to be for that matter?

The answer came to her as she took a deep sip of her coffee: because that was the way her mother had raised her.
Yes
, Emily said to herself, scowling.
I have been well and truly indoctrinated.

She then found herself wondering whether the yearning she felt for Jake – which seemed to be getting stronger by the day – was due to her mother's brainwashing as well; the idea that she had to have a man in her life. Deep down, was her desire for him just an expression of some pathetic unconscious fear of being alone?

She certainly wasn't remotely interested in sharing her space with a man twenty-four seven – which was most of the reason she'd turned down Nathan Lucas. Some occasional company would be nice though, and Jake was so intelligent and such a good conversationalist…

She bent down to retrieve the tube of plans that she'd left propped up between the bed and the wall. It really was so terribly generous of him to do that for her; no doubt it would have cost thousands if she'd had to commission them herself. And to organise sending them to Barbara and David. It really had been a lovely surprise.

Emily folded her legs and then unrolled the plans across them. They were perfect. She pictured herself chattering with guests sitting around the large table in her freshly renovated kitchen while she cooked them a hearty breakfast. If only she could start searching for paint colours, tiles, fixtures and fittings.

But she'd been raised to be cautious. And while she'd arranged the survey in preparation for the subdivision, she agreed with Jake's initial advice that she wait until everything was in her name – signed, sealed, and delivered – before starting any actual renovations. She wouldn't make her initial payment to the Bakers until the subdivision was completed, and that might be months yet.

But it would be worth the wait. With a couple of hundred thousand to spend, the place would be a showpiece. Not that that was the aim. The point was to save the old house. And somehow indirectly make up for the stone cottage John had destroyed. If she hadn't shown an interest in it, she was sure it would never have crossed his radar. If only she'd kept her mouth shut and her aspirations to herself.

A quiet voice somewhere in the depths of her mind piped up, saying, ‘But that is what a good marriage is about; sharing dreams and working towards them together, as a team.'

Emily found herself sinking into melancholy as she wondered whether John had had any regrets, or seen the errors of his life flash before him as he lay dying.

Stop it, Emily
.

She pushed the plans aside so she wouldn't drip coffee on them, took up her mug again, and forced her mind to focus on how peaceful Grace looked slumbering at her feet.

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