Meant To Be (25 page)

‘I just hope she'll want to come home eventually.'

‘Don't worry, if necessary we'll mount a covert operation to kidnap her for you,' Aaron said.

‘You can't do anything quiet, Aaron, with feet that big,' Toby said, laughing. The others joined in.

‘Thanks Aaron, I'll let you know,' Emily said, playing along. She really enjoyed their banter. ‘I hope you won't find the shearing shed too smelly to sleep in. They're a bit on the nose straight after shearing,' Emily said.

‘Nah, we'll be right,' Bill said. ‘Won't we fellas?'

A chorus of ‘yep' made its way around the table.

‘If not, there are always the spare beds and floor space.'

‘I think I might be scarred for life from the pink in that room as it is,' Toby said.

‘Ignore him, Emily. It's a nice colour. And don't you worry about us,' Stan said.

‘I was only kidding,' Toby said. ‘I actually don't mind it.'

‘It's okay, Toby, I know it's an acquired taste,' Emily reassured him, smiling at the thought of David's reaction. ‘It is very pink.'

*

For the first week the Melbourne guys were there, Emily would stay for a cuppa and look over progress whenever she could spare the time after delivering the meals. There didn't seem to be much going on in the beginning – mainly tidying up the site and levelling the building area. She couldn't wait to see stone walls going up. Thankfully the weather was kind and all the rain they had occurred overnight. Nor was David's shearing affected – each evening he managed to get enough sheep safely under cover for the next day's work.

Every night Jake spent an hour or so updating her on progress while they lay in bed. They didn't have a lot of other time to themselves away from the men. And the only time they seemed to have the energy to make love was on Sunday mornings.

She was a little disconcerted that they had settled into such a companionable way of life so quickly, but she told herself it was temporary and that their situation was quite an unusual one.

It wasn't as if she didn't still find Jake hugely attractive. Every time she looked at him her heart skipped a beat and a tingle ran right through her down to her toes. Seeing the ease with which he directed the guys, and the way he managed the project whilst remaining calm and even-tempered, and not even all that stressed, was very impressive. And a big turn-on. The man was quite something. She quite often found herself hovering with her box of food listening to him, feeling awestruck by him, and very grateful she had him in her life.

Emily hoped Jake was okay with the way things were, but kept her thoughts to herself. She wasn't about to raise their significantly reduced sex-life and introduce a problem if there wasn't one.

She worked hard to keep the amazement that he had chosen her at bay – it was negative and she was trying so hard not to be. A lifetime of not measuring up in her mother's eyes would most
likely always remain with her. But she was finally beginning to address the self-esteem issues that had plagued her for so long.

Emily was an adult and responsible for her own happiness, as Barbara had pointed out more than once. She was doing her best to retrain herself to be more positive, not depend on her mother's approval, and not let her past and her insecurities negatively affect her future. She
was
good enough, damn it! There was no reason why she couldn't achieve whatever she wanted to.

The Sunday after he finished shearing her sheep, David brought down an old television, DVD player, and set-top box for the boys.

‘This might make it feel less like you're living back home with Mum and Dad, fellas,' he announced.

It had been too crowded for all of them to sit and watch television in the lounge. But they hadn't complained – they'd instead taken to playing poker around the huge kitchen table.

Aaron and Toby had so far not revealed themselves to be major pranksters or larrikins – well, not in Emily's vicinity – but both had quite the lucky streak when it came to Texas Hold 'em.

Stan had turned out to be a good cook, and whenever he had the time he was inside offering to help Emily. He confessed that cooking was what he did to relax, and she was only too happy to indulge him. He was coming up later to make bread on his day off.

Ben had also proven a great help and wouldn't leave the house until the kitchen was tidy. He also liked to help with cooking, and was good with instructions, but wasn't as confident as Stan. Emily was so used to having her kitchen to herself, it was taking a bit of getting used to. But she was really enjoying having them there, and playing mother to all five men.

Late in the afternoon, Emily joined in as everyone stood in the shearing shed with their fingers crossed, biting on bottom lips, hoping the TV would get good enough reception through the rabbit ears antenna.

After lots of tweaking, they managed to achieve a reasonably clear picture. Hopefully it would hold when the warm, still weather became more unsettled with the onset of autumn.

After the second week, Barbara started dropping in after lunch for a quick cuppa after she'd been into town. Emily would stop for ten minutes before resuming her buzzing around, chattering away as she got on with things. That was one of the great things about their relationship: she could just be herself. It was a busy time, but Barbara was as happy as Emily to just have the company for an hour or so. And there was no expectation that she would stop what she was doing and then start up in a mad panic again to catch up later.

Barbara helped her fill sandwiches and cut and butter cake and do simple tasks, but was equally happy to sit back and stay out of the way. They'd both done enough catering to know that it was sometimes easier to just let someone do their thing and not waste their time explaining a process in order for the other person to assist.

On the other hand, Enid didn't get it at all. She had dropped by once in the first week and entered the kitchen like a tornado demanding to know what she could do. Emily had firmly told her mother that she was welcome to sit and have a cup of tea, but that
she didn't have time to stop. And, no thank you, she had everything under control. Enid had sat at the table, tapping her fingers impatiently. Clearly she thought if she waited long enough, Emily would stop what she was doing and give her the attention she demanded. She eventually left with a harrumph and, ‘Well, if you don't need me, I'll be off,' after draining her cup.

‘See you, thanks for the visit,' Emily had called over her shoulder from the bench where she was making a meatloaf for lunch.

She was especially grateful for the extra pair of hands in the laundry when Barbara visited. Emily had taken on the guys' washing since they were working so hard and she didn't like them having to do it on their only day off. It was more work than she'd expected, but it wasn't hard, just a matter of fitting in the loading, unloading, hanging out and bringing in around her other tasks. The gift of efficiency was at least one good thing she had inherited from Enid. Though, working with your best friend was nothing like working with your overbearing, critical mother. On the days Barbara visited, her friend would get in a load of washing and fold it while she pegged out another lot on the line.

One afternoon they were sorting a load of freshly dried laundry.

‘You need to get someone in to help,' Barbara said.

‘I couldn't trust the cooking to anyone but you.'

‘Sorry, but I can't do it.'

‘Of course you can't – you've got to rest and take care of your baby. But there's no need to apologise.'

‘I suppose it would be a ridiculous waste to have someone come and just do the washing,' Barbara said thoughtfully.

‘Yeah. They'd spend all their time sitting around waiting for the machine to do its thing.'

‘I actually did a ring-around the other day looking for a cleaner. Just out of curiosity.'

‘Well I could certainly palm off the dusting, vacuuming, and cleaning of the bathroom and toilet right about now.'

‘Sadly, I couldn't find anyone.'

‘Bugger.'

‘Hey, maybe we should start a cleaning company,' Barbara said after a few moments of silent folding.

‘Er, we both hate cleaning, remember?' Emily replied with a laugh.

‘Well,
we
wouldn't be doing it; we'd be the bosses just running the show.'

‘Except, of course, for having no one to
do
the cleaning, which is our current problem. Remember?'

‘Hmm.'

‘Not to mention the fact that I have a paddock full of men building me an art gallery. And you're going to have your hands full with a new baby soon.'

‘Yes. I'm still trying not to think about it.'

‘Come on, Barb, you can't jinx it. You know that. Aren't you always telling me that these things are out of our hands? What will be, will be?'

‘Apparently I'm much better at running someone else's life than my own,' she replied, smiling weakly.

‘It will be fine, Barbara. You need to stop worrying and start living again. All this worry can't be good for the baby, can it?'

She stopped short of pointing out that Barbara was running the risk of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy, if her own views of the universe and its workings were to be believed. Again Emily wondered where all Barbara's positivity and faith had got to.

‘Come on, time to feed the workers,' she said, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
I really don't have the knack Barbara does with pep-talks
, she thought, putting the milk in the top of the large box. The first day she'd tried to carry everything over in
an effort to make up for missing her morning walks – she hadn't had a proper walk since they'd begun cleaning the stone – but by the time she'd got to the building site she'd been almost ready to drop the heavy box. Now she made the short trips back and forth in the car.

Sometimes one of the guys did the afternoon smoko run, but today Jake had specially asked Emily to come across. They worked it out via UHF radio. The day after the guys arrived, he had been into town and returned with a few handheld devices so they could all communicate free of charge rather than the expense of using mobile phones.

Curious about why Jake had specially asked her to come across this afternoon, Emily and Barbara arrived a few minutes before three.

She gave her father a hug hello. ‘What's going on?' she asked.

‘You'll see,' he replied, and winked.

Emily and Barbara exchanged shrugs as the other men scurried around nearby.

‘Right, all ready to go?' Jake said, looking around the group.

There was a chorus of murmurs of ‘Yep.'

‘Stan, you do the honours,' Jake said. He grasped Emily gently by the shoulders and turned her towards what she knew would be the front of the cottage.

She felt the realisation dawn as she watched Stan trowel a bed of mortar onto the concrete foundation and then place a stone on top, carefully pushing it down and tapping it into place with the handle of the trowel. A cheer went up, followed by a round of applause. Emily's chin began to wobble.

‘Oh, wow,' Barbara said, beside her. ‘God, I think I'm going to cry.'

Emily felt Barbara's hand grasp hers and her father's hand squeeze her shoulder. She turned to them in turn, wanting to
speak, or at least smile. Acknowledge them somehow. Here were the three people who had given her the most support during the hardest time of her life. Where would she be without them? All she could do was bite down on her lip and try to keep the tears at bay. This stone was the official line in the sand. Everything would be better now.

She turned her tear-filled eyes to Jake. ‘Thank you. Thank you. You don't know how much this means…'

‘Oh, come here,' he said, kissing her and pulling her into his chest.

March passed. Once the walls started going up, the building progressed very quickly. Each day Emily looked out her bedroom window and saw the piles of cleaned stone getting smaller, and the walls growing higher. It was looking more and more like a bigger version of her old, beloved cottage.

They'd had a very dry period with mild weather and hadn't suffered any down time on the building project, but in early April, clouds began to gather. Ten weeks into the project and around seven weeks after the Melbourne stonemasons had turned up, Emily was well-entrenched in her new routine. Thursday morning dawned overcast, just like the weather bureau had been forecasting.

Around town the farmers had been getting antsy about the lack of rain. David hadn't really commented beyond sticking with the Bureau's original prediction of a break in the season around the twentieth of April. That date was still a week away.

He was philosophical like Barbara usually was. He would often shrug and say that no amount of worry and complaining would help.

While they were eating lunch the sky darkened and rain began to fall, beating down heavily on the iron roof.

‘So, when do we start on the tractors?' Jake asked.

‘At this rate we'll have enough to get started tomorrow, but I'd like to give it a couple of days to soak in and for the weeds to poke their heads up. That way when we go over it, we'll deal with them at the same time.'

‘That makes sense,' Jake said. ‘I'm looking forward to doing my bit.' Jake had told Emily a number of times how keen he was to see how another part of farming worked.

‘You okay to leave the cottage project?'

‘Yep, no worries. The guys know what they're doing. It won't be long until they're done and the local roofers can start. I'll only be a phone call away. It should be fine.'

Emily would miss the guys when they headed back to Melbourne. They were nice, cheerful, respectful fellows who really livened up the place. She would miss the banter around the huge kitchen table. The attention they'd given her, being the only woman amongst so many men, had been nice too, not that there had been any flirting or innuendo. Or even dirty jokes, for that matter. They'd kept things very clean in her presence – she hadn't even heard the ‘f' word uttered.