A Place to Remember Page 7

  ‘Consolidating?’

  ‘She’s finished with school and turning eighteen. You’re twenty-one. We want to see you settled.’

  ‘Sounds like you and Dad are going somewhere.’ John avoided the Katie reference. How many times had he told his parents that he and Katie were mates and that was all? The only thing they had in common was the same ideas about diversifying their family properties. One day John had foolishly joked about Katie and him having competing businesses. It had got her started on the benefits of amalgamation – she’d quoted her economics teacher.

  ‘Why would I want to compete with you?’ she’d told him. ‘Two heads are better than one, and pooling ideas and funds makes perfect fiscal sense.’

  John had let the comments go undisputed. Now he was wishing he’d set things straight, rather than letting the situation fester. He had only himself to blame, which was why he was determined to break the news to his parents and Katie once the birthday event was over and life returned to normal. With Ava’s bombshell in the car about leaving Ivy-May to travel, John felt a growing urgency to make her see what she meant to him. While he didn’t want her to go and wouldn’t try to stop her fulfilling her dad’s wish that she see his hometown, he sure as hell needed to make sure she came back to him. No longer could he imagine his future, his life on Ivy-May, without Ava by his side and in his bed.

  *

  Ava had been busying herself in the kitchen, keeping the noise to a minimum to avoid disrupting the family round-table. The moment appeared to be significant, with smiles all round and the occasional exclamation from John. Marjorie’s voice, as commanding as ever, allowed Ava to eavesdrop.

  ‘Succession planning is important,’ the woman was telling her son. ‘Remember, the money is not to be wasted.’

  ‘That said, John,’ Colin added, ‘you need to get all those other things you want to do out of the way first.’

  ‘There are no things I need to do. Everything’s right here, Dad. Everything and everyone important to me and my future is right here, right now,’ he said, with added volume for Ava’s benefit.

  ‘We know we don’t need to ask, but I felt it important that your father and I know for sure that you’re ready to settle down on the land.’

  ‘Believe me, there’s nothing else I want.’

  ‘What about travel? We wouldn’t mind if you wanted to use some of the money for that. The Richardson boys both spent a large part of last year overseas. One married a young Balinese girl and hasn’t come home. Your father and I need to know you’re committed to a future in Candlebark Creek so we can confidently make our own plans.’

  John laughed. ‘I won’t need to run off to Bali or anywhere else to find a bride, Mum. Ivy-May has been in our family for generations, it’s my future and all I want. I’ll bank the cheque while I work out what I want to do first around the place.’

  ‘Together, you and Katie will do wonderful things, I’m sure.’

  ‘We don’t need to combine properties. Ivy-May is big enough to support my ideas. Katie and I might have dreamed up lots of things as kids, but—’

  ‘Let me remind you, John,’ Marjorie said. ‘The O’Brien land was part of our original Tate family title, granted to your great-great-grandfather in early 1900. We were the biggest and best, until your grandfather stupidly sold bits off.’

  Colin grunted a rare disparaging remark. ‘Gave away, more like it.’

  ‘He needed money,’ John replied. ‘That’s what Grandpa always said. They were in drought for years.’

  ‘And as the lucky generation you, John, have the opportunity to right that wrong. A union with Katie will make Ivy-May the biggest again. Why are you looking at me like that?’

  *

  ‘A union?’ John’s throat seized up, making him swallow, cough and choke all at once.

  ‘Imagine the income potential and what you’d be handing down to your own children.’

  ‘Children?’ John’s eyes popped open. He didn’t dare mention his idea of a baker’s dozen. ‘Just slow down a minute.’ He jumped up, hugged his mother. ‘I love you, guys, but can we slow things down? One step at a time, that’s what you told me, Mum, and my first step is outside for some air. This is serious money to get my head around.’

  ‘Go on, you cheeky bugger.’ Marjorie clucked. ‘We can talk about all this after your party.’

  ‘Yeah, after the party,’ John said. ‘We’ll definitely talk then.’

  Chapter 13

  Brides, Beer and Birthdays

  The combined birthday celebration required one chocolate cake – John’s favourite – with both names written on it in blue. Ava had been instructed that the blue piping was to be the same shade as the swatch of seersucker fabric Katie had shoved into her hand after dinner one night.

  ‘The dress is a surprise, but I’m not expecting you’ll be able to match the colour exactly,’ Katie told her.

  The end result on the day could not have been bettered. Ava had outdone herself with the two-tiered cake, a work of art. The blue of the piped icing perfectly matched Katie’s skimpy dress. The next thing Ava knew, she was officially invited to attend. Not as the cook, but as a guest. That would have been John’s doing, and while she would have preferred to watch the gathering from the safety of her kitchen, John had called into the cottage earlier all but begging her to come.

  ‘Please, I want you there.’

  ‘John, it’s not my place. Besides, I have nothing good to wear.’

  ‘Not your place?’ John scoffed. ‘You’re not a servant, for Pete’s sake, and you must have something suitable in here.’ He approached the small wardrobe, opening both doors. ‘I carried your ridiculously heavy bag that first day. If not clothes, what else did you have stuffed in there?’

  Ava shrugged. ‘Recipe books, of course, what else?’

  ‘Okay, well, no one’s getting too dressed up, except Katie, probably. What about this top?’ He tugged the sleeve of a red shirt out into the light.

  ‘Too hot.’ Ava shook her head.

  ‘This?’

  ‘No way, John, too frumpy.’

  ‘How about this top?’

  ‘Too skimpy and the wrong colour.’

  He eyed her dubiously. ‘How wrong can white be?’

  ‘For a cook? Disastrous, and apart from that little number, chef whites are the only white you’ll find in my wardrobe. Black is always safer.’

  ‘Well, in my book there’s no such thing as too skimpy.’ He peeled the top from the hanger. ‘Sounds perfect.’

  ‘Maybe skimpy was the wrong word.’ She returned it to the wardrobe. ‘I meant too small. It doesn’t fit me any more.’

  ‘Ava, it might lighten the load in that bag of yours if you didn’t cart around clothes that don’t fit.’

  Ava’s smile stayed small as she scooped up a handful of white blouson sleeve, pressing the satin of the shirt’s tuxedo-style cuff against her cheek. ‘I bought this on my way home from work one day. It was my seventeenth birthday and I’d already blown most of my pay packet on ingredients so I could make a special meal. Dad and I worked in the kitchen together and I dressed for dinner in this shirt. That night was the last time I heard Dad tell me I was beautiful and that he was proud of me.’

  *

  John allowed Ava a moment of memory before he slid the shirt off the hanger with the required ceremony.

  ‘Try it on, please – for me?’ he asked softly. ‘In this, and if you wear that red hair of yours down, I reckon you’d rock a Dolly Parton meets Reba McEntire look.’

  Ava laughed. ‘I never pictured you as a Reba fan and I’m missing a couple of important Dolly features, but I’ll try it on if you insist.’ She slipped her arms into the see-through sleeves and tried to do up the little pearl buttons. ‘See? They don’t reach.’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t fit. You’ve put it on over a T-shirt. It also looks weird.’

  ‘Thanks for the fashion tip. Shouldn’t you be getting ready yourself? You’ve got bi
rthday-boy speeches to make. Get out of here.’

  They kissed and she shoved him towards the door.

  ‘You will come, as a guest? You’ll be there, with me and not hide in the kitchen all night?’

  Ava nodded. ‘Of course I will. Now get going.’

  *

  With the final platter set out and guests already arriving, Ava hung up her apron and slipped down to the cottage. Against her better judgement, she took the time to relocate the six buttons she hoped would loosen the precious shirt just enough. Compromising on John’s hair-down request, she went for a part-up, part-down top-knot style and was checking herself in the small mirror over the bathroom basin when she realised that the white organza and satin top with its shiny lapels might have been the bodice of a wedding dress. What she couldn’t see of her lower half in the mirror, she imagined: around the peplum-waist was a satin bow, with the same satin trim on a full skirt that tipped the floor. Underneath layers of organza, the stiff lining rustled and swished when she moved, and under that again was a hooped petticoat that swayed and swirled when she danced. Ava closed her eyes, hummed ‘Moon River’, and felt herself floating over the floor, safe in strong arms, the audience awestruck.

  When a tear tickled her cheek, she forced her eyes open. She was still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, her hands clasping an imaginary posy of gardenia and lavender, her father by her side, pride in his eyes. Marco stood tall, a white flower in the lapel of his maroon velvet jacket. ‘It’s time to let you go, my little dragonfly,’ he’d say, before they headed down the church aisle. Then…

  Idiot! She cursed in the bathroom mirror and pulled on a pair of flared trousers in basic black.

  *

  Wow! John thought, when he spotted Ava wearing the classy white shirt, her fingers toying self-consciously with the small pearl button between her breasts. He chugged the remaining beer from the glass, sending her a crooked grin as he delivered the punch line to an old gag. His mates all roared, downing their own brews: once they’d got a bellyful some blokes would laugh at anything.

  *

  By eight o’clock, three hours after the party’s official start time, Ava was wishing she hadn’t accepted the invitation. After Colin had been on the receiving end of a Marjorie tirade over an ice shortage, he had sought refuge elsewhere until needed for the speeches, while between them, Marjorie and Katie had done their best to keep John circulating and Ava busy in the kitchen.

  ‘We’ve run out of plates, Ava.’

  ‘We need more sauce for the sausages, Ava.’

  ‘Can you find more this and more that, Ava?’

  The same frustration had forced far too many beers into John’s hands, so when he’d found Ava upset and trying to eradicate a stain on the sleeve of her white shirt he got mad. Really mad.

  ‘Stop making a fuss, John, and get back to your party.’ Ava pushed him away.

  ‘Wearing that top was my idea and now it’s ruined.’

  ‘You didn’t make me wear anything.’ Her whisper was forced and urgent. ‘And it’s not ruined. This sort of stain is…’ She looked down at it. ‘Well, it simply makes a special shirt even more precious.’

  ‘You’re trying to make me feel better.’

  ‘It’s true, John. This shirt has always made me think of Dad. The mark on it will now remind me of the other man I’ve loved.’ Finally, she’d said it aloud, and it felt good. Pity the man was too drunk to remember it in the morning. ‘Now get out of here.’

  ‘John!’ Marjorie’s voice rang out over the dance music that had been getting progressively louder. ‘Where are you?’

  Without warning, he grabbed Ava, pushed her into the shower cubicle and drew the curtain. She made to object, but he silenced her with a slurred ‘Ssh!’

  A frisson of fear, champagne and high spirits forced a nervous giggle from Ava. She could taste the danger, revelling in it as John’s mouth met hers.

  ‘Time for speeches, John.’ Marjorie was closing in. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Go, get out of here.’ Ava shoved him again.

  *

  She watched from the back of the crowd. Marjorie had corralled John and Katie and all four parents in front of a garden arch she’d decorated with artificial ivy and blue blooms of fake wisteria. Cameras flashed throughout John’s speech, which was a disaster and ended in tears – Katie’s. Rather than responding to her puckered lips, he’d staggered and spilled beer down her dress. Had he done it on purpose? Ava knew only one thing for certain. According to the scream that erupted from Katie, John Tate had ruined everything!

  Nothing like a tantrum to end the festivities. Partygoers, most with a long drive ahead on dark country roads, piled into cars to skulk away. Katie had disappeared and a mortified Marjorie insisted John find her and apologise. Colin had presumably returned to wherever he’d been for most of the night. That left the O’Briens, and Marjorie insisted on driving the distraught parents back to their house. First she had to reassure them that their daughter was a sensible girl who knew both properties well enough to find her way home once she’d had time to calm down.

  Ava had left the party too, eager to reach the sanctuary of the cottage with the half-bottle of wine she had secreted in her dirty apron. To hell with the mess in the kitchen. She’d start early tomorrow to tidy up, confident no one else would do it before then. Convinced John would pass out somewhere and not make it to the cottage at all, she showered, then crawled into bed.

  When sleep didn’t come she decided to get up and make a pot of tea. Chamomile would help her relax. She turned on the kitchen light and heard a voice.

  ‘Ava, you’re awake. Please open the door. It’s me.’

  She looked at her watch. It was two in the morning. ‘No, John, go home.’

  Ava made her tea and was blowing on it when she heard him again.

  ‘I’ve apologised to Katie. Now will you please let me in?’ His voice rose in desperation. How long had he been out there? ‘I know you’re standing there, Ava, I can see your shadow on the curtains. Come on, please.’

  She had no option. But he wouldn’t be staying long, she told herself. If anything, the evening’s events had highlighted the calamitous situation she was in.

  When she found him on her front porch, his face pale, lips quivering, Ava had to fight the urge to wrap her arms around him. ‘What’s wrong, John, what’s happened?’

  ‘You happened, Ava. To me,’ he said. ‘Are you going to let me in?’

  She relented, stepping back, her head shaking in disbelief. ‘How did we let ourselves do this?’

  ‘I love you,’ he said.

  ‘You’re drunk, John.’

  ‘Not too drunk, not really, not now.’

  ‘Tell that to Katie and her blue dress.’

  ‘You mean the beer thing?’ He shrugged. ‘I kinda spilled it on purpose.’

  ‘I so hoped you weren’t going to say that.’

  ‘I had to do something. I was set up. Mum and Katie had me feeling like a bloody performing seal. Yeah, I’d downed a few beers more than I needed, but I wasn’t too pissed to see what was coming or know who I wanted to kiss on my birthday. I didn’t want to embarrass Katie in front of her friends, so I pretended to be drunker than I was. I’d never hurt her on purpose, but I don’t love her. I love you.’

  Ava drifted away from the door and fell into one of the dining chairs. ‘There are expectations, John: Marjorie’s, the O’Briens’ and Katie’s. You should’ve made your feelings about her clear well before now. Why didn’t you?’

  ‘I’ve told Mum a million times, and I’ve never led Katie on. Sure, she jokes about marriage. What teenage girl doesn’t dream of wearing a white dress and having her father give her away? Doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.’

  Ava said nothing.

  ‘Look, Katie and I… we’ve always been best friends and sure we’ve mucked around, but we never got serious, not like that. She was supposed to grow up, tire of me and pick another bloke. How
could she not see Cameron Duke acting like a puppy around her all night.’

  ‘A girl in love can be blind to the most obvious messages from others.’

  John dropped into the chair behind him, hands cradling the back of his head as he stared into his lap. ‘Ava, I’m not here to talk about Katie.’

  ‘What do you want, John?’

  He looked up, staring hard. ‘You said you loved me.’

  ‘You remember that?’

  ‘I told you I wasn’t drunk and it would take a lot more to make me forget something like that. I love you, too, Ava. I love you so much I’ll set you free so you can travel the world, even though it’s the last thing I want. What I feel at the thought of losing you is all the proof I need that I’ve never been in love before. Not with Katie. Not with anyone. Only you.’ He stood up, brown eyes pleading. ‘Can’t you say something?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly, soberly. ‘Go home, John.’

  He looked stricken. ‘What are you saying, Ava?’

  ‘I’m asking you to go home, John. Please, just go.’

  Chapter 14

  Mad, Passionate… Ludicrous!

  Ava stood on the front porch, her eyeballs throbbing, waiting for the sun to poke its nose over Mount Hedlow. She squinted in the early morning light and saw something blue draped across the long grass by the river. Then, slipping her feet into her work boots, she put on a dressing-gown over her pyjamas and walked across to find a sobbing Katie-from-next-door.

  ‘Get lost, Ava!’ Katie turned her face away.

  ‘You look like you need a friend,’ Ava said. Surely she wasn’t still upset over a spilled beer and a kiss that hadn’t come.

  ‘You’re not my friend.’

  ‘But I can be if you need one.’

  ‘Yeah, of course, you can be everyone’s friend. You and John are real bosom buddies. Why don’t you just bugger off?’

  Ava forgave her that. She even felt a little sorry for her. ‘I’m not the enemy, Katie.’

  ‘So what are you?’