Time Will Tell (33 page)

She sweated under her t-shirt and light woollen jumper, causing an odour of wet sheep to surround her. She was grateful for having to concentrate so closely on the road; that meant she didn't have the chance to run through scenarios for what she would say when she arrived at Thora and Gerald's. She just hoped they would be home and not with a houseful of guests.

Chapter Thirty-seven

When she pulled up on the wide gravel driveway in front of the sprawling modern brick house, Emily realised she had only been there a handful of times in all the years she'd known John. To say he hadn't been close to his parents was the understatement of the century.

Thora opened the door as Emily raised her hand to knock.

‘Emily, how nice to see you. Come in.'

No going back now.

Emily noticed Thora's slightly raised eyebrows. She must look an absolute fright. Here she was with wet hair plastered to her head, standing on the doorstep in her rattiest jeans and an out-of-shape jumper with holes and frayed edges. And in front of her was Thora Stratten, dressed neatly in capri pants and a knitted top, with not a hair out of place. She probably didn't even own a pair of jeans.

‘Hi Thora. Thanks.'

As she moved into the hall and offered her cheek for the customary air kiss, Emily was stunned to instead be embraced and held in a tight, lingering hug. She hoped she hadn't just put muddy brown streaks down Thora's cream top.

‘Come through. We were just having a quiet drink.'

Emily wondered what the time was. Had she rudely turned up right on lunchtime? She felt as if she'd lost a chunk of time. No, it must be mid-afternoon. ‘Gerald, Emily's here,' Thora said as she ushered her into the plush formal lounge room off the hall.

Gerald Stratten stood and also greeted her with a warm smile and hug. ‘Have a seat,' he said. ‘We were both just having a drop of brandy in a glass of milk. Very soothing,' he added sadly, nodding at the glasses on the coffee table. ‘Would you like one? Or perhaps tea or coffee. Or something else?'

Brandy in milk sounded like a very good idea. She certainly needed soothing; her heart was racing at a furious pace and her brain was feeling addled. Did she nod to the offer of brandy? Or perhaps she answered. She couldn't remember, but Gerald left the room.

‘And darling, get Emily a towel for her hair, there's a dear,' Thora said to his retreating back. For a split second Emily wondered if she should go off and tidy herself up properly. But she stayed put, feeling very self-conscious and really wishing she had thought to get changed and not let herself get wet.

Enid would have had kittens if she saw her like this, but beyond the initial slight amusement at the corners of her mouth, Thora didn't seem offended by her dreadful appearance. They spoke haltingly about the recent wet weather and Thora was telling Emily about the weeds taking over her garden when Gerald reappeared with their drinks on a tray and a thick fluffy white towel draped over one shoulder. After putting down the tray he handed Emily the towel. She looked at the towel in her hand, suddenly unsure if the correct protocol was to take herself off to the guest bathroom.

‘Dry your hair, dear, before you catch your death,' Thora said. She sounded so much like Gran, Emily felt a wave of sadness and nostalgia wash over her. But she was soon distracted by the blush making its way up her neck.

‘I'm so sorry about turning up like this. I must look a fright,' she said helplessly.

Gerald and Thora just smiled politely and turned their attention to their drinks. Emily swiped the towel across her hair while their attention was diverted. And as she ruffled her locks she wondered how to begin the conversation that had to be had.

‘Now, everything is organised for tomorrow,' Thora began. ‘The outfit you chose was just perfect. I think John…' Gerald squeezed his wife's hand as she choked up. She shook her head as if shaking the tears aside, and continued. ‘The church ladies are doing the…'

Emily's heart rate rose. She needed to get this over with. But she couldn't interrupt Thora, whose words just sounded like white noise in her ears. Despite sitting there nodding and looking intently at Thora, she was only taking in the odd word here and there. She finished with her hair and draped the towel around her shoulders, not seeing anywhere more appropriate to put it. All around her was polished timber and leather.

When Thora finally took a breath, and before she could go on to give the names of the hymns that had been chosen, Emily took her opportunity and leapt in.

‘Thora, Gerald, I'm so sorry, but there's something you need to know.'

Her earnest tone caused them to look up quickly. Emily took a long sip of her drink. The brandy making its way through her felt good. After a moment she forced her eyes up from her glass to meet their gazes. The world seemed to have stopped. The room that had been warm and inviting was now eerily quiet. Was it suddenly a few degrees colder? She took a deep breath, put down her glass, began picking at the frayed bottom edge of her jumper.

‘I know the funeral will be daunting, it will be for all of us. But we'll get through it together,' Thora said.

Emily shook her head. She took another, deeper breath, pushed her jumper away, clasped her hands together and looked from one to the other and back again.

Gerald put his hand over his wife's.

‘I don't know how to tell you this. I really thought you already knew.' Emily fiddled with her jumper again; stuck her finger into one of the holes. She nibbled on her lip.

‘Knew what? What did you think we knew, dear?' Thora asked. She spoke so kindly and looked so fragile, Emily felt the desire to flee and not hurt her.

‘I had left John,' she said.

‘I'm sorry, left him where?' Thora said, clearly confused. ‘Were you meant to be in the vehicle with him? Well, thank goodness you weren't.'

Gerald had a knowing expression. He squeezed both of Thora's hands. ‘It might be best if you just come out with it,' he said quietly. Emily could almost hear the unspoken words: ‘Dear, we've lost our only son; there's not a whole lot that could hurt us now.'

She found herself wondering if she was sitting where the policeman had sat when he gave them the news. She took a deep breath.

‘Thora. John and I had separated. I had moved out. I thought you knew. I can't believe he didn't tell you.' She was rambling. She forced her mouth shut.

‘Oh well, no marriage is always smooth. I'm sure…' Thora said.

‘No, you don't understand,' Emily persisted. ‘We were going to get divorced.'
There, I've said it. It's out now.
There was no sense of relief, no feeling of being unburdened.

Thora looked sad and confused. Gerald looked sad and… Knowing? Had he known? Something? Anything?

‘But I don't understand,' Thora said.

‘Darling. What she's saying is that they had separated…'

‘Why?'

Why did we separate or why didn't John tell you?
There were so many questions. Emily took another deep breath. She wished she hadn't come. This was even harder than she'd imagined. She'd rather be yelled and screamed at. There was a thick, awkward silence as she tried to sort out the jumble of words and threads in her mind.

‘We weren't happy – hadn't been for a long time,' she finally said with a sigh.

‘All marriages take work; it's about compromise,
making
it work.'

Emily looked down at her hands. How much should she tell them? The man, her estranged husband, their son, was dead. What was the point of dragging up all the gory details now? ‘The thing is, I just wanted you to know because otherwise tomorrow you'll…'

Thora suddenly brought her hands to her face, as if finally understanding. ‘The whole district knows, don't they?' she said, aghast.

Emily nodded solemnly.

‘Thank you for telling us,' Gerald said. ‘It must have been difficult for you to come out here. And you didn't have to. But we're grateful that you did. Thank you.'

‘I'm not sure how it went wrong,' Emily said, feeling the need to explain. It was a lie; of course she knew where it had gone wrong. It had gone wrong from the start, when he hadn't wanted to share the running of the farm; had tried to keep their worlds separate.

It was all becoming very clear, as she sat there looking at this impeccably dressed woman in her impeccably decorated room. John Stratten had chosen a townie over all the farmers' daughters, because he wanted a wife like his mother. She'd gone about it all wrong; wanting to – expecting to – stand beside him and toil the land together.

‘Was he cruel to you?' Thora suddenly said.

Emily saw a montage of their life together flash through her mind. She nodded. ‘He wasn't very nice at times, no.'
Oh, God, please don't ask me for details.

‘No one should be expected to put up with a husband who is cruel,' Thora said simply and quietly before picking up her drink off the table.

Emily blushed. Had she heard right? Was Thora letting her off the hook – just like that?

‘I can only apologise. He was an only child. We overindulged him. In things, not love. We were too distant, maybe too cold. I can see that now.' Tears dripped from her chin.

Emily's heart went out to Thora. Had she had the Strattens wrong all this time? Had she been blinded by John's views, too eager to show him her loyalty? She felt a big sense of sadness and guilt that she hadn't made more effort. ‘Please don't… As adults, we make our own choices. The thing is, we chose to separate.
I
chose to leave him.' She took a deep breath.
Here goes
. ‘So I have no right to inherit anything of his.'

‘Of course you do,' Gerald said, without hesitation. ‘He was your husband. You deserve it.' He paused, obviously considering his next words. ‘You mentioned choices. If John chose not to change his will then that was his choice. It is not for us to question.'

‘But…'

‘Emily, I can only imagine the cruelty my son inflicted on you – emotionally, and, heaven forbid, physically. He was our son. We loved him, but we knew him. I hoped he would have found his way with you, but clearly not. And I wish we had shown you more support. But what is done is done. We wish you peace. If you want to sell the farm or keep it, that is entirely up to you. I am here if you need any help.'

‘Thank you.' The words seemed so insignificant. All the pressure of the last few days left her so forcefully that she almost wept. ‘Can I at least give you the insurance? You paid the premiums all these years.'

‘And why do you think that was, dear?' Gerald said.

‘I have no idea.'

‘In case his recklessness ended in his death and you had children to raise,' Thora said, so quietly Emily had to strain to hear.

‘But I don't have…'

‘It's not your fault you were not blessed, dear,' Thora said through a veil of tears.

Oh God.

‘I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry,' Emily said, burying her head in her hands. She began to cry, slowly at first and then heaving, racking sobs. Suddenly Thora and Gerald were on either side of her and the three of them were crying and hugging.

Eventually the tears subsided and they separated. Emily felt totally spent. And guilty. Why hadn't she just come to them to start with?

‘Would you like another drink?' Gerald asked, breaking the silence that was about to become awkward.

‘Thank you, but I'd better not since I'm driving. And I really should go,' Emily said, getting up. She glanced at her watch. Where had an hour got to? ‘I've actually got a lot to do,' she said, dragging the towel from her shoulder and handing it to Thora. ‘I've been living at the old Baker place, but now they've died, I have to move out. I'll be moving back to the farm. If that's okay with you…' They were all now standing facing each other across the coffee table.

‘Of course. It's your house, your farm,' Gerald said with a reassuring smile. ‘Whatever you decide is up to you,' he said. ‘But if I can be of any help…'

‘Actually yes,' Emily said, remembering the document in her handbag. ‘I need some advice. David Burton has offered to lease the farm. He's drawn up a document, but I… Could you take a look before I sign it?'

‘Of course,' Gerald said, holding out his hand. He pulled a pair of glasses from his top pocket and put them on.

There were a few murmurs and a lot of nodding as he quickly read through the few pages. Emily and Thora looked on silently.

Finally Gerald took off his glasses and handed back the pages. ‘It looks fine to me. All above board, as you'd expect from David. It's a standard lease agreement. One of the farming groups had it drawn up a few years ago, and most of us have used the same one at one time or another. You should be fine to sign it. It might be a good idea to get him to take over the sheep as well – there's another lease document that can be used as an addendum to this one. I'm sure David will have a copy.'

‘Yes, he mentioned it. I just wasn't sure if maybe you…'

‘Dear, I'm winding things up here so I can retire; I don't want to take on more sheep, or land. You'll be in safe hands with David. Hand it all over to him for now. Here, sign it now and then you can go back that way and put it in their post box at the crossroads.' Gerald produced a pen from his other pocket and handed it to Emily. ‘Thora darling, could you get an envelope from the office and some paper?'

Thora nodded, got up and left the room. Gerald and Emily sat back down and she signed the paperwork. ‘Thank you so much. I really appreciate your advice, and help,' she said.

When Thora returned, Emily accepted the envelope with thanks, slid the signed paperwork inside, wrote a quick note to David saying she'd like him to take over the sheep as well, and slid that in too. As she sealed the envelope and wrote David's name on the front, she felt the tension leaving her shoulders. It was a