Time Will Tell (6 page)

‘There were originally seven of them – but that was back in the forties.'

‘Seven! Jesus Christ, Em! You knew about them?'

Emily nodded. ‘Yes and no. There was always a family myth that Gran had chosen Grandpa over an Indian prince. But there was never any more detail than that. After she died I was going through her recipes and found a letter. It was from an Indian prince, and it said he was giving her “seven of Golconda's finest” as a wedding gift. When I Googled Golconda, I found out diamond mining was big in the 1940s, so guessed that was what she'd been given.'

She remembered how excited she'd been as she'd waited for the pages to load, and the overwhelming urge she'd felt to rush off on a romantic crusade to India to find this man her grandmother had known. When the page revealed he had died five years before, she had been quickly brought back down to earth. That was the end of it. Or so she'd thought.

‘I figured the diamonds must have been lost or sold, or even sent back. I can't imagine Grandpa being too thrilled with another man giving his wife a gift like that. Even Mum pooh-poohed the idea. So I just thought it was an unsolvable mystery. Wow! My head is spinning.'

‘I'm not surprised. You know, if there are six more just like this, your money worries are over, my friend,' he said, starting to earnestly pick through the pile of buttons.

Emily knew she should be getting out the letter to show him, but she couldn't make herself move. And then the lightness she was feeling was suddenly replaced by a realisation that if she proceeded, everything would change, and not necessarily for the better.

If the diamonds mentioned in the letter were real, then technically they'd belong to her mother and aunt – they were Gran's next of kin. Neither Enid nor Peggy were sentimental or romantic; they'd cash them in at the first opportunity. Emily would never see any of the proceeds.

On the other hand, if she did keep them a secret and somehow sold them herself, she'd never be able to use the money without serious probing from her mother.

And if some of the diamonds had survived unsold this long, then perhaps that's how they should remain. She owed it to Gran to keep her secret, didn't she? After all, Gran had asked her to take good care of the button jar when handing it over.

Emily's heart was beating so slowly she thought it might stop.

‘Come on, Em, you could be rich; give me a hand here, will you?'

Emily remained where she was.

Jake looked up from the towel. ‘Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. Don't you want to find them?'

‘Honestly, I'm not sure I do,' she said, shaking her head.

Jake stopped what he was doing, collected the cups Emily had prepared for them and joined her at the table.

‘I'm sorry; I've come in like a bull in a china shop. They're your diamonds to find or not. No pressure.' He smiled kindly at her. ‘Though, I can keep a secret if you need me to. Scout's honour,' he added.

Emily didn't know what to say.

‘Seriously, if you don't want to take it any further, that's up to you,' he said, taking a long sip from his mug. ‘But you've got to admit, it's pretty bloody exciting,' he added, grinning mischievously. ‘And here I thought I was coming to the country for a nice quiet weekend away.'

Emily rolled her eyes in mock consternation. She sipped her tea silently while trying to put her thoughts in order.

‘So where's the letter?' he asked after a few moments of silence. ‘Sorry,' he said, holding up a hand briefly in apology before returning to his coffee.

‘You said no pressure.' But she was smiling gently. Of course she'd show it to him.

‘I know what I said, but this is bloody excruciating.' He started squirming in his chair. ‘You do still have it, don't you?'

‘What, you think I'd throw it out?!'

‘I don't know. I wouldn't put it past Elizabeth.'

‘I'm the one who's held onto a jar full of old buttons just because they were my Gran's, remember?'

‘All right, all right, I get it; you're soppy and sentimental. Are you going to show me this damned letter or not?!'

Emily went to the pantry cupboard and got down the large cardboard shoe box in which she now stored Gran's pile of old recipes tied up with her trademark grey string. Back at the table she took off the lid, untied the bundle, and began carefully taking out each fragile and stained piece of paper and well-thumbed book, turning them over to keep them in the same order. After she'd read it the first time, she'd put the letter back in exactly the same place, between the recipes where she'd found it. She liked the idea that it might have been there for over sixty years, filed between Mother's Irish Stew and Quince Jam the whole time.

Emily finally found the folded blue sheet of paper she was looking for.

The letter looked so out of place it was hard to believe it could have been missed for all those years. But then again, there were lots of other odd pieces of paper with recipes from various friends and family members.

Now Emily thought about it, Gran had always been extremely protective of her recipes – but not the
recipes
as such, just the originals. If you wanted one of her recipes, she was more than happy to share it, but she would find it, write it out herself, and then hand over the copy – no one was ever allowed to rifle through her papers willy-nilly. Emily thought she knew why.

She unfolded the letter and handed it to Jake, then sipped her now lukewarm tea and watched his face light up as he read.

October 18th 1947

Dear Miss Rose,

It really was the greatest pleasure to again make your acquaintance in London this last year.

Your uncle tells me you are betrothed to a grazier and soon to be married and then make your new life in the interior of the wide brown land that is Australia. He tells me the place is a small village called Woop Woop, but the twinkle in his eye, not unlike your own, and the fact I could not find the name on any map, suggests he may have been doing what you taught me Australians are very apt to do; that is, ‘pulling my leg'. You are indeed an intriguing people with a peculiar language. But I digress.

Please accept my gift for your nuptials of seven (a sacred number in my land and faith, and I believe your own) of Golconda's finest – left rough for you to have cut and set as you desire. They are, I think, almost the exact shade of your unusual and enchanting eyes.

You and your husband would be extended the most gracious welcome should you ever find yourselves in my, what would you say, ‘neck of the woods'? (See, I have managed to retain some of what you taught me in our short time together!)

I wish you all the very best of health and happiness for the future.

With the kindest regards,

Prince Ali

After a few minutes Jake carefully put the note aside.

‘Wow, Em, that's beautiful,' he said, gazing at her. ‘You've got the same coloured eyes as she had, haven't you? I didn't really notice before, but they're quite like the diamonds too. And very lovely.'

‘Thanks.' She felt uncomfortable under his close scrutiny. ‘Yes, mine are almost exactly the same as Gran's, except I think hers were a darker blue,' she said. Her eyes were the only physical attribute Emily had ever really liked about herself. Otherwise she was quite plain, from her boring mouse-brown hair – these days in a bob – to her average height, weight, and breast size.

The silence stretched into awkward territory.

Jake was looking at Emily, but she was still thinking about Gran. And thinking about Gran was making her feel sad and emotional. With a jolt she realised this was her first Christmas without her.
Don't you dare cry!
She needed to change the subject, not that that was really possible. She swallowed hard before speaking.

‘So how did you come to do a gemmology course, anyway?'

Jake seemed to snap back to the present. ‘A couple of years back I was looking into obscure ways to meet women and went and did a weekend course – figured I may as well learn something while I was at it.'

‘And did you, meet the woman of your dreams, that is?'

‘God no! It was the weirdest group of people I've ever come across in one place at one time. There was something odd – unnervingly odd – about all of them. Except me of course. I was the only normal one there. But it was interesting.'

‘Well I'm glad you went.'
And didn't meet the woman of your dreams
, Emily mentally added, then wanted to kick herself.
Where did that come from?
A relationship really was the last thing she needed right now.

‘So what do you want to do? I'm dying to know if they are all still here.'

‘Hmm, me too, sort of. For all I know, she sold them off one by one when she needed to – she and Grandpa went through some pretty tough times on the farm,' Emily said.

‘Selling them would have been next to impossible up until around ten years ago. De Beers had a monopoly; uncut diamonds wouldn't have been able to be bought or sold. Unless of course your dear old gran had some black market connections.'

‘Who knows? I didn't know she had diamonds rattling around in her button jar all this time. Anyway, if they
are
there, they belong to Mum and Auntie Peggy – they're the next of kin.'

‘Not necessarily – it's your button jar, given to you by your gran herself…'

‘But…'

‘She knew the diamond or diamonds were in there, remember, and she gave them to you
before
she died. For that reason they'd never be considered part of her estate, if it came to the crunch.'

‘Hmm.'

‘You probably should put them somewhere a bit safer, though.'

‘Like where?'

‘I don't know. A bank vault?'

Emily thought for a moment. ‘No; if there are any more, they've been here this long and they belong with the buttons – it's what Gran would want.'

‘I'm not sure that's wise. But fair enough; it's your decision. So, do you want to keep looking for the other diamonds or not?'

‘I can't decide. Of course I'm dying to know, but it could change everything. While I don't know, things can stay much the same.'

‘Nothing ever stays the same for long, you know. Anyway, it's fate. If I wasn't here, you wouldn't have found them today and we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

‘So it's meant to be – I'm meant to look for them, you reckon?'

‘Yes I do. If you weren't meant to, none of this would have happened.'

‘That's what Barbara would say.'

‘Well, from the little I've seen, she's a very smart woman.'

‘All right, I'm convinced. But I think we should carry on with how we were doing it and see if they turn up.'

‘Good plan.'

They got up and went back to the bench where the buttons were waiting.

Chapter Six

‘Yoo-hoo, anyone home!?'

‘Oh, that'll be Dad,' Emily said to Jake, still standing beside her at the bench. ‘I'll put these away.'

He stepped aside as she picked up the towel, folded it over the remaining buttons and put it back into the ice-cream container. After placing the three uncut diamonds they had found on top, she put the container back in the pantry along with the half-full jar. As she did, she marvelled at how calm she was about it all.

Could I really be sitting on a fortune?
Emily wondered as she went down the hall to let her father in.
Imagine being able to fully renovate in one fell swoop!

‘Coming,' Emily called to buy some time to compose herself.
What a morning!

Just before she got to the door, she turned to Jake. ‘This is going to sound strange, but can you please not mention the diamonds to anyone yet? Not even Dad?'

‘Sure. And it's not strange at all.'

Emily wasn't sure why she wanted to keep them a secret, but she felt better knowing that she could always change her mind later. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

‘Hi Dad,' she said, giving her father a big hug. ‘Merry Christmas, again.'

‘Hi Jake, lovely to see you again.'

‘Likewise, Des. Merry Christmas,' Jake said, stepping around Emily onto the verandah to shake his hand.

‘For you,' Des said, holding out a bottle of wine.

‘Thank you.'

‘So, Jake, I hear you're doing some work in Whyalla – that's a long way from home, isn't it?'

Emily cast her mind back to the ice-cream container in the kitchen and the possibilities within.

They were still standing on the verandah – Emily deep in her own thoughts and Jake and Des in conversation – when David and Barbara arrived a few minutes later.

Cries of ‘Merry Christmas!' rang out as they emerged from the car. Barbara was in her often worn attire of sandals, beige tailored pants and a neatly pressed but untucked short-sleeved shirt in emerald green. Being lean but robust, she always seemed to have a no-nonsense, efficient air about her. As usual, David was well-dressed; today in navy pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with a self-stripe and brocade design. For a moment Emily was struck by how much like a younger version of Des he was – except for his fine head of thick brown hair compared to her father's wiry grey.

Once they had greeted each other, they all banded together to bring in what seemed an extraordinary number of bags and an esky from David and Barbara's white dual cab ute.

‘Makes my wine look a little paltry,' Des said, accepting a carry bag from Barbara.

Barbara laughed. ‘Don't worry, Des, it's nothing exciting – just some crackers and tinsel for us to drape about.'

‘I was hoping you'd forgotten,' Emily said, rolling her eyes.

‘Never!' Barbara said, making an exaggerated show of kissing her on the cheek. ‘Time for you to get into the Christmas spirit, missy.'