Time Will Tell (23 page)

Another visitor?

She cocked her head to listen and Grace did the same thing before trotting out into the hall. Emily followed the dog and opened the front door to find her father standing with his arm raised and hand clenched about to knock.

‘Dad! What are you doing here?!' Emily cried, pulling him into a hug. As they embraced, Emily stood on tippy toes to see if her mother was waiting in the car. Enid never wasted time and energy getting out of the car unless she had to, and when visiting without an appointment always sent her husband ahead to knock on doors.

Emily had always hated this embarrassing habit of her mother's – if the person was at home, there were always a few awkward moments while everyone at the front door turned and watched Enid's journey from the car. She'd often wondered if she did it because she was lazy or whether she just wanted the attention – or perhaps a bit of both.

But there was no Enid waiting in the car today. Did she really have a lunch to attend or was she sulking?

‘I've come to surprise my only child and wish her a happy birthday. What else would I be doing here?' Des said, sounding a little indignant.

‘Sorry, but you know what I meant,' Emily said, feeling chastised.

‘It wouldn't be a surprise if I made an appointment, now would it? So, sweet pea, happy birthday. I hope it's a day filled with joy, followed by a year of happiness.'

‘Thanks Dad,' Emily said. They hugged again, and Emily felt herself choking up as she replayed his words in her head. It was a rare moment to hear Des Oliphant sounding so soppy and sentimental.

‘Right, so, any chance of a coffee?' he asked, wringing his hands. ‘Or are you just going to keep me standing out here on the doorstep?'

‘Of course, come in.'
That's more like the Dad I know and love
, Emily thought with an inward smirk as she stepped aside to let him in.

Once seated, Des pulled an envelope from the front pocket of his navy work shirt.

‘Sorry it's not very exciting, but we decided it might be just what you need at the moment.'

‘Thanks Dad,' Emily said, smiling at her father.

Inside the envelope was a card with the standard ‘Dear Emily', ‘Happy Birthday' and ‘Love, Mum and Dad' in her mother's neat, compact handwriting.
Well, that's something anyway
. Inside the card was a plastic gift card emblazoned in the bold blue of Mitre 10 hardware stores.

‘Perfect,' she said, with a hearty nod. ‘Actually, speaking of this place – which we weren't really, but are now – I've got a bit of news.'

‘Don't tell me the subdivision has come through already?'

‘No, that could take months. I've only just organised the survey. But…'

‘You've officially started seeing that nice Jake fellow and he's…'

‘Dad! Shh. I'm trying to tell you something serious!'

‘Sorry.' He made a motion of zipping his mouth, turning a key and then tossing it over his shoulder. Emily rolled her eyes at him.

‘I was over at the farm yesterday – John's place. Barbara and I were cleaning the house up and going through the paperwork for his parents.'

‘That was awfully nice of you. Why would you…?'

‘Let me finish. When I was speaking to Thora the other day, she didn't seem to know about our separation.'

‘You can't be serious.' He stared at his daughter with wide, disbelieving eyes. ‘How can she not have known?'

‘I have no idea, Dad.'

‘But the whole town…'

Emily held up a hand and shook her head. ‘It's weird, I know. But it was pretty clear that she thought I was still living there. I don't know whether she's trying to ignore the truth like Mum, or if John didn't tell her, or what. But I could hardly tell her she'd have to deal with her dead son's effects, now could I? She would have wanted to know why, and it would have raised all sorts of questions. I decided I could at least help wind things up, tidy the house.'

Des looked doubtful. ‘Okay.'

‘Anyway, I was going through the paperwork in John's office and I found our wills. He hadn't changed his. It looks like I'm still the sole beneficiary of his estate.'
If there's not another will.
Emily ignored the nagging voice in her head.

‘Are you sure about this?' Des asked.

‘Yes, totally, he hadn't changed it. I've still got to find out – I'll probably have to see a lawyer about it – but it looks like I'll have enough money to be able to do the house up – properly – when the subdivision goes through and I actually own it.'

‘But won't his parents object, contest it or something? I'm not sure how these things work.'

‘Well, as far as they're concerned, we never split up.'

‘That may be so, but they are going to find out sooner or later. And I imagine they might be pretty upset. How much are we talking?'

‘Around two hundred grand once his bills have been paid.'
If it's all above board.
Emily wished her conscience would shut up and let her dream – at least for a while. ‘He must have changed his mind on buying the tractor, because there's no record of the down payment. Or perhaps it was just a rumour after all.'

‘Bloody hell, Em. This all sounds terribly far-fetched.' Des shook his head slowly before picking up his mug.

‘Doesn't it just?'

They both sipped their coffees in silence until Des spoke a few moments later. ‘So then that would mean you now own the farm too,' he said thoughtfully.

‘No, I'm pretty sure that's owned by the family company, and kept by Gerard and Thora when John was bought out.'

‘I don't think you have that right,' Des said, his forehead creased. ‘Not unless things have changed. As far as I know, John inherited the farm when he was a kid – around twelve years old. Some kooky old uncle who wanted to stick it up the family, I believe.'

Emily's mouth dropped open and she stared at her father as he continued.

‘His parents were livid – Gerald had assumed it would just go to him. And of course the irony was that
he
had to run it because John was still at school. Just goes to show that one should never assume.'

Hmm.

‘So do you seriously think the farm has been in John's name all these years? Why wouldn't he have told me?'

‘Did you ever ask who owned it?'

‘No, I just assumed…'

‘Ah, see, there we go again – assumptions. And he probably assumed you knew, or that it didn't warrant mentioning. Really, why would it?'

‘So why wouldn't Thora and Gerald have told me?'

‘That little word again, Em. They probably assumed you knew.'

‘So how do I find out for sure – without actually asking them?'

‘You didn't find title deeds then?'

‘No.'

‘Probably in a bank vault somewhere.'

‘Oh God, they could be anywhere.'

‘Does the family have a particular firm of solicitors they use?'

‘Yes, they're in Adelaide – they did our wills. Thora did say they would handle the death certificate and not to worry about that side of things.'

‘Ah, well, in that case it's all sorted. They'll be in touch. Don't worry; I'm sure you'll be notified in due course. Meanwhile, what have you got planned for your birthday?' Des asked, clearly signalling the end of the discussion.

But Emily's mind was still on the farm.

‘Em?'

‘Sorry?'

‘Your birthday. What have you got planned?'

‘Just dinner with Barbara and David tonight. I'm sorry I upset Mum, but it's been such a crazy time…'

‘No need to apologise. It's
your
birthday to spend as and with whom you wish.'

‘Thanks Dad.'

‘So Mum isn't sulking is she?'

‘Why would you think that?'

‘Well, she didn't come out with you.'

‘She had an early lunch out – some last-minute thing – and is now most likely back at home busily cooking jam for the local show. Seems like she's taken a leaf out of your book.'

‘But she's never…'

‘I know. I don't know what's got into her lately. All these new hobbies. Anyway, I've been deputised,' he added, puffing out his chest and pretending to pluck at imaginary braces. ‘But I thought you'd have spoken to her by now. I'm sure I heard her leaving a message earlier this morning.'

‘Oh.' It must have been while she was out on her walk. Emily hadn't noticed a message when Jake rang. All of a sudden she was annoyed at herself for being so petty, and for getting things so clearly wrong. She forced the thoughts aside.

‘Dad, what the hell will I do with a farm?'

‘Sell it, lease it out, I don't know. You could become a farmer,' he said, shrugging. ‘Don't worry about it until you know for sure – the solicitors should let you know in writing if…'

‘I suppose so,' she replied.

With solicitors in charge it could take months. She hoped she hadn't jinxed things by jumping the gun and telling Jake and Barbara how much money she'd inherited.
Well, how much she
might
have inherited.
She'd better not tell anyone else. And she'd better not say anything about the farm just yet.

‘Dad, probably best not to tell anyone about this; don't want to count my chickens and all that.'
Little bit late for that, don't you think?

‘Fair enough. My lips are sealed.' He started to mime zipping them again but stopped. ‘But I can't exactly
not
tell your mother,' he said with an apologetic grimace.

‘Okay, but make sure it goes no further. God, she'll be ropable when she finds out how much I'm going to spend on this place.'

‘It's your life, dear. She knows that. Just doesn't always accept it. Well, I'd better be off. You have a great night and a happy New Year's Eve.'

‘Thanks. You too.'

Chapter Twenty-six

‘Birthday girl, come on in, come on in!' Barbara cried, as she flung the front door wide. They hugged tightly before breaking away. Emily then accepted David's hug and peck on the cheek.

‘Happy birthday, Em.'

‘Thanks David,' she said, making her way down the hall towards the Burtons' kitchen. She really was so blessed to have friends like Barbara and David. She felt as comfortable and welcome here as she did in her own house.

‘Hold on,' Barbara said, grabbing her elbow from behind as she was about to pass the dining room. ‘We've decided to go all posh on you tonight – crystal, silver, Wedgwood, the whole bit. Packing up everything at the farm the other day got me all inspired.'

‘Ooh, what fun! But you should have told me; I'd 'ave worn me taffeta,' Emily said, smiling and putting on a broad Cockney accent.

‘Oh come now darling, not
taffeta
posh,' Barbara replied, in a very toffy English accent.

Emily loved it when they played around and did silly voices. She paused in the dining-room doorway, looking over the fully set table. Cut crystal wine and water glasses sparkled and silver cutlery shone in the flickering light of the silver candelabra's three candles. The scene was so overwhelming she forgot about her accent. ‘Barb, this looks great. You've gone to so much trouble.'

‘Ah not with the food, darling – peasant fare tonight I'm afraid; we can only do so much.'

Emily bit her bottom lip to stop herself from exploding into laughter. ‘Was that
pheasant
fare,
pleasant
fare or
peasant
fare you said?' she asked, continuing their charade.

‘Oh God, not you too,' David said, rolling his eyes. ‘I've had this one pretending to be posh all afternoon.' But he was unable to hide his grin. ‘I'll get the champagne.'

‘Strawberries; don't forget the strawberries,' Emily and Barbara both called at the same time, still in their respective put-on accents. They looked at each other and burst into uproarious laughter. Tears were streaming down their faces and they were both standing with one hand on the polished back of a dining chair and holding their stomachs with the other when David returned.

‘Your drinks, my ladies,' David said, bowing and adopting a plum inflection of his own.

‘What fun,' Emily said. ‘We should do this more often.'

‘No thanks, it took me ages to polish the silver,' David said, pouting. They both waved his objection away.

‘Well, we can do it at my house now I've got all the good stuff. David, you'd be butler, wouldn't you?'

‘Yeah, sure, why not? There we are,' he said, carefully extracting the cork with a satisfying pop. He poured three tall glasses of sparkling white wine.

‘It's a pity Jake couldn't be here,' Barbara said. ‘He would have fitted in with our silliness rather well I think.'

‘Did you invite him?' Emily asked, accepting a glass from David. She had the uneasy feeling that she was the last to know something that was about her.

‘Of course. Cheers,' Barbara said, raising her bubbly and ignoring Emily's frown.

‘Happy birthday, Em.' All three clinked glasses, muttered ‘Cheers,' and took their first sips.

‘Yum,' Emily said. And then she added, ‘You didn't tell him it was my birthday, did you?'

‘Well, I
was
trying to convince him to come. Not that it mattered in the end; he couldn't make it,' Barbara said, flapping a dismissive hand. Emily thought her friend was looking a little flustered.

‘Is he still in Whyalla or did he go back to Melbourne?'

‘Dinner with a client – no idea where that might be,' David said quickly.

‘Oh well, he is very busy. And he was just down here,' Emily said, trying to hide her disappointment and the uneasy feeling that was becoming stronger.
He didn't even wish me a happy birthday when he phoned
.