A Roast on Sunday (6 page)

“What?” she
asked defensively.

“Anything you’d care to tell me?” Dot asked.

“No.”

“What did he mean by ‘damage to his truck’?”

“It’s nothing, drop it.”

“
Didn’t sound like nothing,” Dot said, but she let it go because Willow was watching them. She fully intended on raising the subject later with Maggie, but for now she sat in a deck chair and enjoyed her ice cream.

“I’m going to the
bathroom,” Maggie annouced heading out from behind the stall.  She didn’t add that she needed to splash some cold water on her still burning cheeks.

“How
very interesting,” Dot mused, watching her daughter make her way through the throngs of people enjoying the evening. “It’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen there, if you ask me.”

“What?” asked
Willow.

“What’s what?”
Dot jumped in her chair, she had forgotten that her granddaughter was listening.

“You said it’s obvious what’s going to happen there - what’s going to happen?”

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Willow
sighed. “I didn’t sneak up on anyone. I was standing right here the whole time. Maybe you should actually wear your glasses for a change.”

“Wash your mouth out,” Dot reached out a hand to smack playfully at Willow. Aging
and its bag of side effects was a touchy subject with Dot. She preferred to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t happening.

“Hey,” said Nick, who had arrived at the stall and
was standing there looking nonchalant, as if he hadn’t just turned up hours too late to help out. 

“Where’ve you been?” Willow demanded.

He shrugged. “Around. I came by earlier but you guys were packed. Didn’t seem to need me so I went and ate some food and watched the bands.”

“Typical.”

“So are you done?”

Willow turned to her grandmother, smiling sweetly. “
Grandmother darling, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Go,” Dot laughed. “
But be back in an hour. I’ll square it with your mother.”

“Thanks Gran,” Willow kissed her quickly on the cheek, after making sure no one from school was around to notice,
then she took off with Nick.

Dot watched her go and her expression turned serious. The kid was growing up. She wouldn’t be as easy to fool anymore. If Dot had her way they would have come clean to her years ag
o, but Maggie had stuck to her guns in a misguided effort to protect her daughter. Dot wondered if the arrival of Jack in their lives was going to change anything. He certainly didn’t seem the type to give up easily.

Ah well, she thought.
Only time would tell.

Chapter seven

“So what’s for dinner tonight?”

This
innocent question was not typically a question most mothers would ask their young daughter on a Sunday morning. But then this had never claimed to be a typical household.

“
Dunno, just on my way out to check now.”

When Willow was out the front door
and far enough out of earshot Ray, who was sitting at the kitchen table, lowered his newspaper and gave Maggie ‘a look’. He had finished his porridge and was loitering over coffee and the paper.

“What?” she asked.

“You know what. How much longer are you going to keep this up?”

“
Now is not the time to discuss it dad.”

“
Your mother and I think you need to be straight with her.”

“
Seriously dad, leave it. So what’s it to be?” Maggie asked the last bit loudly as Willow re-entered the house. “Personally I’m hoping for chicken. We haven’t had one of those for awhile, have we dad?” Her tone warned her father to play along.

“No,” Ray sighed. “We haven’t.” He lifted the paper
back up in front of his face.

“Sorry mum,
looks like Lamb,” said Willow carrying the large cut of meat in a plastic bag gingerly in front of her. “Yuck, all the blood is dripping out of a hole in one corner.”

“Quick pass it here then,” Maggie opened the oven drawer and pulled out a roasting pan
. She held it out and Willow dropped the meat inside with a thud then walked to the sink to wash her hands.

“It’s a big one alright,” Maggie commented. “It’ll be delicious slow roasted with some rosemary and garlic.”

Willow finished washing her hands and then walked to the fridge to get juice. She stood there with the door open, perusing the contents.

Maggie frowned, watching her. Willow didn’t seem too enthused by the
roast, and as much as she was loath to admit it, maybe her parents were right? Her little white lie all those years ago had snowballed and now she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to come clean, although she knew she would have to eventually. One day Willow was going to start asking more questions.

Dot came banging through the back door with an empty washing basket in her hands.

“Those towels will be dry in about ten minutes I reckon,” she said. “That’s some breeze kicking up out there. It’s lovely though, I can smell summer lurking just around the corner.”

“Oh yeah?” said Willow, sitting down at the table with her juice. “And what does Summer smell like exactly?”

“You don’t know? And you call yourself a writer? My girl, use your imagination.” Dot stood behind Willow and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Close your eyes,” she told her. “Right I’ll start. Summer to me smells like cut grass, and hot tar seal. It smells like the pollen of freesias, jasmine and lilacs, honeysuckle and sweet peas, mixed with the stench of cow manure from the farms of course,” she laughed when Willow screwed her face up. “Now
you
think, what does summer smell like to you?”

Willow
thought of hot summer days. “Coconut scented sun tan lotion,” she finally said, “and chlorine in my hair from the pool at school.”

“Good,” her grandmother nodded.
“Very good.”

Ray lent back in his seat. “For me, summer smell
s of sausages, steaks and corn cobs grilling and sizzling on the BBQ.”

“A freshly
sliced watermelon,” Maggie joined in as she finished scrambling some eggs and slid them on to a plate which she put down in front of her daughter.

“Clean and crisp sheets that have been hanging in the sun all day,” said Dot.

They all started adding new ones as they thought of them.

“That sulphuric smell in the air just before a thunderstorm, and the clean smell of the
concrete after summer rain.”

“
The smell a tomato plant makes when you brush up against it.”

“Citronella candles
to scare the mossies away on hot nights.”

“Fresh mint ice tea.”

“Strawberries warm from the sun.”

“The smell of water when it
comes out of a hose that has been lying on the lawn all day in the sun.”

“Sweat from thirty kids cooped up in a classroom.”

“That’s disgusting Willow.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I remember the hot sweet smell of my mother canning fruit,” Dot said wistfully.

“My dad’s cigarette smoke as he tinkered with something
out in the garage, doing his darnedest to stay out of my mother’s way,” said Ray.

“Algae from when the lake overflows and
then drains away, leaving pockets of water behind that turn stagnant,” Willow said.

Her family stared at her.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“That was a lovely description,” her mother said, kissing her on the top of
her head. “You are going to be a wonderful writer one day.”

“Well thankfully we don’t have long to wait before we can smell all that again,” Dot said as she
picked the basket up from the table where she had rested it while she reminisced. “What’s for dinner?” she asked, as she headed past them towards the laundry.

“Lamb.”

“Delicious.”

Willow finished off her eggs and pushed back her chair.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it.”

“Mum, can I go meet Nick now?”

“Ok. You two got something planned?”

“Fishing
.”

“In the lake?”

“Creek.”

“Bring me home trout
this big for the smoker,” said Ray, extending his hands as wide as he could to either side of him.

“I’ll try my hardest.”

Willow left the kitchen and about five seconds later they heard her scream, “Nooooo.” They both jumped to their feet and ran to the front door.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Maggie called out, her heart all the way up in her mouth from the sound of her daughter in trouble.
She stopped at the top of the steps when she saw her daughter standing in the drive, still in one piece and, as far as Maggie could tell, unscathed. Then Maggie saw what had made Willow howl the way she had.

“You again.”

“Morning,” Jack said cheerfully. He was holding out something made of pink plastic, with large comical strawberry faces plastered all over it. Willow’s raincoat. Willow herself had backed away and was staring at him as if had come bearing a human head on a stick.

“
Where the hell did you find that?” she asked in disbelief.

“Willow
, don’t swear.”

“
But…the last time I saw
that thing
was at the bottom of the lake.
Weighed down with stones
. I thought I’d finally got rid of it.” She saw her mother’s face and hurriedly added, “I mean, I was really worried that I’d never see it again.”

“Anyone would think you
tried to lose it on purpose,” said Dot as she emerged from the house to see what all the noise was about.

“Well
duh, of course I did.”

“
Willow
,” Maggie warned.

“Sorry,” Willow muttered darkly, not looking sorry at all.

“Where did you find it?” Maggie reached out to take the coat off Jack.

“Washed up on the shore of the lake,” he said. “Rufus and I were
out taking our morning walk. He led me down a path and there it was, washed up on the shore, none the worse for wear.”

Willow scowled at Rufus
who had the decency to look mournful. “Stupid dog. You couldn’t have just kept on walking, could you?”

Maggie turned the coat over in her hands. He was
right, it was in remarkably good condition considering it had spent the night at the bottom of a lake. No rips or tears; it was as shiny as the day Dot had first brought it home.

“
Thank you for bringing it back,” she said to Jack, then turned to go back inside the house. She hoped he would take the hint and leave.

“Rufus,” her dad piped up. “That’s a terrible name for a dog.”

Jack sighed. “So people keep telling me.”

“I told him he should have called it Apollo,” said Willow.

“Now
that’s
a name a dog can be proud of,” agreed Ray. “That, or Shadow,” he mused. “I’ve always thought if I had a black dog that’s what I’d call it.”

“Lucky we never got one then,” said Willow.

“Don’t be so bloody cheeky.”

“Don’t swear,” said Dot and Maggie.

Jack looked from face to face in amusement. Then he looked over Maggie’s shoulder at the big old house behind her.

“
What an amazing house,” he said. “I’d love to see inside.”

Maggie’s mout
h dropped open at his audacity, which was a shame because she was too slow to close it again and answer, so her father got in first.

“C
ome on in lad, I’ll give you a tour.” Ray was very proud of the house he’d worked hard to buy and had owned for almost fifty years.

Collecting herself, Maggie smiled a warning at Jack behind her father’s back.

“I’m sure Jack has other places to be and other people to annoy,” she said.

“Nope,”
Jack said, “just here and just you.”

Then he swept passed her with a grin and followed Ray up the porch steps and into the house.

Maggie watched him go, dumbfounded at this sudden turn in events.

“You’ll catch flies,”
remarked Willow.

Maggie snapped her mouth shut.

Rufus gave a little whine and looked up at them woefully out of his big brown eyes. His ears drooped and he gave a heavy sigh.

“
I’ll just stay here and look after your dog shall I?” Maggie yelled after Jack.

Jack’s head appeared back in the doorway. “Oh he’ll be fine,” he said. “He won’t go anywhere.”

“Can I take him fishing with me?” Willow asked.

“No,” said Maggie.

“Sure,” said Jack at the same time.

“She’ll be gone for hours.”

“I don’t mind hanging out here until she’s back. That is, if it’s ok with you?”

“No, it’s not
.”

“Of course
it is, you can stay for lunch,” said Dot, at the same time.

“Know anything about quad bikes?” Ray, who had appeared back in the doorway beside Jack to see what the holdup was, asked. “It’s
started making a funny clunking noise.”

“
Not a thing,” Jack said, “but I’ll take a look.”

‘I’ll
whip us up some cheese scones and a quiche,” decided Dot. “And maybe a cake if there’s time.”

“Have you lot lost your mind?” asked Maggie. “We know nothing about this man.”

Her parents frowned at her.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t extend our hospitality,” said Dot.

“Don’t be so rude,” Ray said to Maggie. Then he turned to Jack. “Sorry about that,” he said, “we raised her with better manners but the older she gets the more she seems to forget them.”

“
Dad
.”

“What? It’s true.”

“You guys are weird. I’m off,” said Willow. She slapped her hand on her thigh and whistled at Rufus, who looked to Jack for consent.

“Off you go,” he
gave it.

The dog seemed
reluctant but nevertheless he trotted over to Willow’s side and headed off with her down the driveway.

“Be careful,” Maggie called.

“Don’t forget to catch me a big one,” Ray called.

Willow waved
back over her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I don’t kn
ow what you two are playing at but you can just it stop right now,” Maggie frowned, turning to where her mother had been standing twenty seconds before. She was gone, and Jack and her father had disappeared back inside the house. She was alone in the driveway talking to herself. She kicked a pebble viciously then flinched as it bounced off the front of the house, narrowly missing a window.

“I’ve got to stop kicking things,” she sighed to herself, heading into the house.
She dumped the coat in the laundry to be washed later. There was no sign of her father or Jack, but her mother was in the kitchen measuring flour out onto a pair of old green kitchen scales and humming happily to herself.

“Can I add some hemlock to that mixture?” muttered Maggie, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table and leaving without waiting for her mother to answer.
She headed to the room she had transformed into her little shop at the back of the house. As well as the internal entry it had its own external door, so that customers didn’t traipse through the house. Opening the door she stepped inside and closed it behind her, and immediately she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She took a deep breath and shook her arms out, twinkling her fingers, shaking the stress from her body.