Time Will Tell (16 page)

‘I am a bit.'

‘It's a lot to take in.'

‘Hmm.' He was obviously giving her room to talk about how she was feeling, but she didn't want to burden him with it all.

‘You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm here for you if you do.'

‘Thanks Jake, I really appreciate it.'

‘Well, I really wanted to just check on you and thank you so much again for a lovely weekend.'

‘It was my pleasure. And don't forget you have an open invitation. You're welcome to stay anytime you like.'

‘Careful what you offer, Em. I might be there every weekend.'

And I wouldn't mind if you were.

She liked the sound of his voice, especially the way he said the shortened form of her name. ‘If only I could put you to work for your keep,' she said with a laugh.

‘I'm sure it'll all work itself out. At least you've got things moving with the survey – that's a step in the right direction.'

‘I hope so.'

As if sensing an awkward moment coming on, Jake started ending the call.

‘Well, I'd better get going; Anthony will be here any minute. We're trying the local Chinese restaurant tonight.'

‘That sounds nice. Please thank him for organising the surveyors.'

‘I certainly will.'

‘And thank you so much for calling.'

‘You're welcome. You take care of yourself, Em. And remember, I'm here if you need me.'

Chapter Sixteen

The question of whether to write, phone or visit John's parents in person had started as a niggle, but ended up fully consuming Emily.

That night she tossed and turned well into the early hours, the thunderstorm raging overhead adding to her angst. The whole house rumbled as if a freight train was going through, and lightning lit up her bedroom from behind the ancient blinds and curtains.

Emily spent the night teetering between concern about the roof and what to do about John's parents. At one point, Grace appeared at her bedroom door, scratching and whining to be let in. Rather than tell her off and send her back to the kitchen, Emily welcomed her into her bed.

In the morning she was bleary-eyed and no closer to a decision. She considered ringing Barbara, but she really had to start making these decisions for herself. It wasn't right to rely on her friend so much. Barbara had her own issues – grieving for her father in-law, looking after her husband – and was exhausted from having a houseful of guests stay for the funeral. The fact she had sent a text yesterday rather than ringing told Emily her friend needed some space. Emily had texted back, thanking her for checking, telling her that she was fine, and that she hoped Barbara was too.

That was the thing about great friendships; you could have your space when you needed it and a friend would understand.

So, as much as Emily wanted to consult with her over what to do about the Strattens, she hadn't, and wouldn't. Anyway, she was sure Barbara would just say something along the lines of what her father had said; that, really, it was entirely up to her.

Refusing to give in to the washed-out feeling, Emily dragged herself out of bed, had coffee and breakfast, and set her mind to dealing with domestic duties. Thankfully the dark clouds had temporarily passed, and where she was looked clear for getting some washing dry.

She had just come in after hanging out the sheets, when her phone skittered on the bench beside her and began ringing. The display showed her parents' home number. She sighed. If she ignored it she'd just have to phone back later. If it was her mother, it would be best to just get it over with. As she answered it she sent up a prayer to no one in particular that it be her father; she really didn't have the energy for another tussle.

‘Hello, Emily speaking.'

‘Now Emily…'

Oh God, here we go.
She took a deep, fortifying breath.

‘…your father and I have been talking and we've decided we can lend you five thousand dollars.'

What?

Emily could hear her father in the background. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but the fact that she could hear him at all over her mother meant whatever it was it wasn't good.

‘Oh! Wow! Well, thanks Mum, but I don't think…'

‘But your father said you were short of money.'

‘Well yes I am, but I'm sure I'll manage. I really appreciate the offer, but I'd rather sort it out on my own.'

‘What about Gerald and Thora? Have you spoken to them?'

Why on earth would I borrow money from the Strattens? Has she completely lost the plot?
Emily frowned. How could her mother think her so insensitive?

‘Um, no, why would…?' Emily's cheeks began to flame.

‘Well he
is
their son, Emily. They should at least be consulted.'

Consulted? About what? What the hell are you on about?

‘Sorry Mum, but what are you talking about?'

‘The funeral of course, Emily! For goodness sake, you really are dense sometimes!'

The funeral.
Emily's mouth dropped open. Was her mother seriously suggesting she pay for John's funeral? No, surely not.

Jesus, what was the protocol here anyway? Would it be any different if she had plenty of money?

‘Emily! Are you still there?'

‘Yes, I'm here.' Emily searched her mind for some way to stall things. She could hear her father again in the background. He was now practically shouting.

‘Well?'

‘Well what?'

‘You're sure you don't want the money – it's just that it's in an account we have to give notice on.'

Emily's head was swimming. What was she supposed to say? Why would she pay for his funeral anyway, and why would anyone – least of all her mother – expect her to?!

It wasn't fair. Where was the ‘If you're unhappy, darling, then of course you should leave', the ‘You have our full support; whatever you need', and the ‘We just want you to be happy'? Instead, Enid had given her a lecture about lying in the bed she'd made – she'd as good as sided with John.

Emily felt a sudden feeling of vindictiveness engulf her; she should tell her mother just what a piece of shit her son-in-law had really been.

But no, she acknowledged, calming slightly; she'd just come across as petty. Enid only ever saw what she wanted to see. Her mother would say it was the grief talking and offer some pep talk about time healing all. And Emily couldn't bear that. She was not grieving; she was bloody furious!

‘Emily! Emily! Des, are you there? There must be something wrong with her phone,' she heard her mother say to the background. It seemed her father had given up trying to convince her to stop this nonsense phone call.

Emily bit her lip as she tried to find the right tone – firm and rational but holding the fury in check. She took a deep breath before speaking.

‘Mum, John and I had separated. You know this. In just under a year we would have been signing divorce papers. So I have absolutely no intention of paying for his funeral. It is not my responsibility.'

‘Of course it is; you're his wife. It's your place, Emily.' The unspoken question – ‘What will people think?' – hung in the air.

‘Mum! You are not listening to me!' Emily shut her mouth and silently counted to five in an attempt to calm herself. ‘He'd been with at least one woman since we split up, probably more; let the most recent one deal with it!'

‘Emily! What a dreadfully disrespectful thing to say. The man has died; at least show some compassion.'

Emily again toyed with providing a few home truths, but shook the thoughts aside and stayed silent.

‘Well, you should at least phone Thora and Gerald.'

Of course she should, and she would. Probably. Maybe. But not for the reasons Enid was thinking.

It would be a difficult phone call to make. She hadn't spoken to either of them since she'd left their son. Now she at least had a valid excuse, and her call would be expected. She felt a ripple of fear make its way through her before disappearing.

‘Yes, I will phone them. But it will only be to offer my condolences and certainly not to offer to pay for or organise the funeral.'

There was silence on the other end of the line.

‘Mum? Are you still there?'

‘Emily, it's me, Dad. Your mother's a bit upset.'

Emily heard a door slam in the background. ‘Sorry Dad.'

‘Don't be. I did try to explain that it had nothing to do with you, but you know how stubborn your mother can be…'

‘Yes.' And now Enid would go off and sulk for not having got her way. Emily had seen it so many times before. Back when she was still living at home, if things hadn't improved after an hour, Emily would seek her mother out and inevitably back down on whatever she'd done to upset her.

With a bit of a shock, Emily realised she'd never actually stood up to her mother and then continued to stand her ground. With the realisation came a little sense of empowerment. She allowed herself a moment of congratulations. Not for upsetting her mother – she actually felt quite guilty about that – but for properly standing up for herself for once. And she was not going to back down this time.

‘Em, don't worry about it. I'll try again to make her see sense.' ‘Dad?' ‘Yes?' ‘You don't think I should be paying for John's funeral do you?' ‘Not for a bloody second!' ‘Even if money wasn't such an issue?' ‘Absolutely not! God, Em, don't let your mother's insane notion get into your head. She's just worried about what people will think – you know how she is.'

‘Dad, she does know it was definitely over between us, doesn't she?'

‘Yes.' He paused. ‘Well, I thought so. But I think with his death she's retreated into some sort of fantasy land where the two of you are concerned.'

‘Great,' Emily said with a groan. ‘She's not, you know, showing signs of, um, Alzheimer's or something, is she?'

‘No, I don't think so. I am keeping an eye out because of the family history, but I think this is just a case of wishful thinking and severe disappointment.'

‘I hate her being disappointed in me,' Emily said, suddenly feeling vulnerable again.

‘You and me both, dear,' Des said with a deep sigh. ‘Look, I'd better go. I'll call you later if I get the chance.'

‘All right. And Dad, sorry again.'

‘There's nothing to be sorry about. I'll speak to you soon.'

‘Okay. See you.'

Emily hung up and sat staring at the phone in her hand. Just how had Des Oliphant put up with all the drama all these years? To a degree it was duty – in the sense of marriage vows – but she couldn't help thinking there was a hell of a lot more to it than that.

She shook the frustration aside and went back over the conversation with her mother. The more she thought about it, the more she fumed. She scrolled through her most recent calls log and pressed the send button when she got to Barbara's number. She tried to force herself to breathe slowly and deeply as she waited for it to connect and then start ringing.
Please be there
, she silently prayed to the empty room.

‘Hi Em.'

‘Sorry, but I need to vent!' Emily blurted.

‘What's happened?'

‘My mother!'

‘Oh. What's she done now?'

‘She's just been trying to lend me five grand to pay for John's funeral because it's my place to sort it out!'

‘Jesus.'

‘Can you believe it?!'

‘Well yes, actually,' Barbara said, with a tight laugh, which instantly had Emily feeling a little better.

‘Yeah, actually, me too.'

‘So I take it you said, “Thanks very much Mummy dearest, but no thanks”?'

‘Well actually…'

‘Oh Em, please don't tell me you're going to do it.'

‘Only kidding. No, I told her there was no way I'd pay for that piece of shit's funeral – well, obviously in language a little less colourful.'

‘And?'

‘And of course she didn't want to accept that.'

‘But did she – eventually – accept it?'

‘I'm not sure. She handed the phone over to Dad and presumably went off to sulk. After slamming a door.'

‘It's not often your mother doesn't get her own way, is it?'

‘Understatement of the century. You know, Barb, I can't remember ever standing up to her like I did just now – and not eventually backing down.'

‘Well, it's long overdue. And I certainly hope you don't back down.'

‘Not a chance. Why should I spend five grand just to keep my mother happy? Maybe once upon a time, but not now.'

‘Good to hear. I've been waiting for you to start standing up for yourself for ages – especially where your mother is concerned. I would have said something before, but you've been too fragile to hear it.'

‘I see that now; things are going to change around here. They already are.'

Chapter Seventeen

Wednesday morning, after another sleepless, stormy night, Emily sat at the huge kitchen table turning her mobile phone over end to end in one hand. She'd never get a decent night's sleep if she didn't contact Gerald and Thora.
And if the damned rain doesn't let up.
The time had come to cease the niggle inside her once and for all. The question was, should she phone or drive out there? What if they weren't home or had the place locked up? She supposed she could leave a note at the gate. And if they were home, would they welcome her or be hostile?

They were, after all, grieving for their son and there was a chance that they might somehow blame her. Would they?

Despite their different backgrounds, Emily had always got along quite well with John's parents. They'd never hung out together just for fun, but there hadn't been the tension she'd heard some people mention when talking about their relationships with in-laws.