Beside the Brook (2 page)

“No, no, she’s at home. She did want to come but I had this business to attend to first. She tends to get a little car sick on the drive here too, so I thought it best she stayed home.” Beth smiled and waved her hand toward the train. A basin of smells wafted around her; strong sweet perfume, hairspray and cosmetics.

“Do you have much luggage, honey?” Her voice was a strange mixture of Londoner and American drawl, with a hint of the kiwi accent showing signs of the duration she had lived in New Zealand.

“No, not a lot.” Kirsten was used to being a nomad, moving from one job to the next, so traveling lightly was a prerequisite. She had only recently moved home from her last position, so things had not begun to accumulate again. The older woman looked pleased. “Oh, I’m so glad. I was going to bring Craig with me just in case you had a lot of heavy boxes, but in the end I had to leave him with Sarah.” She scowled. “My sons have both placed so much importance on Sarah’s well being that they have deserted her this week.”

Kirsten wasn’t sure what to say. Beth’s tone was disapproving, her facial expression and the way her mouth was drawn in a reflection of her feelings. But as she looked back at Kirsten her mouth curled into a smile and she reached up to take off her dark glasses. Her eyes were a beautiful deep blue, almost turquoise in the afternoon light.

“Do forgive me, honey.” She touched Kirsten’s arm. Her nails were neatly shaped and painted. “I do ramble on sometimes. You’ll find my expectations of the people around me are quite high, so don’t be offended. I’m always disappointed. I’m from England so everything has to be proper and I married a Texan so everything has to be over the top. There’s no winning with me.”

Kirsten laughed. She liked this woman already.

As the afternoon progressed she also learned Beth was correct. She certainly did ramble on. They talked about Sarah as they sat for coffee and a bite to eat before their two hour drive. When they reached the country road, Kirsten understood why Sarah suffered from car sickness. The road didn’t just wind, it lunged and rolled, weaving its way through the hills. After an hour the tar seal changed to thick gravel over a clay single lane. Judder bars from trucks which traveled in the wet, leaving their tyre marks permanently in the clay surface, often slowed their progress. Kirsten had never been car sick before, but her stomach lurched as the road continued its endless path.

Thankfully Beth stopped at the side of the road for a rest and Kirsten scrambled down from the little four wheel drive. The hillside where they stopped was covered in native bush and birds were busy in the trees. The air was so still that Kirsten was awed by the sight. To the left of them the road dropped away, continuing the slope of the hillside to the beach below. It was such a contrast to the ocean she was used to. This was no surf beach however. The water lay still like glass, reflecting the hills as a mirror would. Beth came to stand beside her. Again sensing her discomfort she said, “Don’t worry, we’re nearly there. Take a big gulp of that fresh air and you’ll be okay in a few minutes.” She pointed down the bay, where miles of bush and untouched land lay before them. A few houses dotted the hillside. “See that jetty out on the point?”

Kirsten shaded her eyes and could see a boat tied at its mooring where Beth had indicated. “Yes, I see it.”

“That’s our place.”

“Oh, good.” Kirsten smiled, relieved their trip was nearly over; at least until the next time she needed to go into town.

“You can’t see the house but it’s down there. I hope you’ll like it. We have tennis courts and a swimming pool. Sarah loves the water but she’s not a very confident swimmer yet.”

“It sounds lovely.”

Even after Beth’s description of the house, Kirsten was pleasantly surprised when they pulled into the driveway. The long sloped entrance to the property wound through Manuka and Beech trees for about five hundred metres. Mossy undergrowth and green ferns covered most of the untouched hillside. When they emerged back into the sun the ground spread out into lush lawns, expertly manicured into thick rows of alternating shades of green. The house stood back against the hillside with three stories of windows towering in white palatial elegance. Kirsten imagined a mansion like this would seem out of place in such a natural setting, but it had obviously been built with care and consideration to the environment it occupied. The lawn ran down the hillside below the house, to another flat area, where the pool was dug into the ground, surrounded by

natural stone tiles. The pool house beyond this was a tiny miniature of the house above, painted white with pale blue window frames.

As Kirsten stepped from the car her feet crunched on the pebbled path. Tiny brown and white polished stones led the way to the patio, where wooden framed French doors stood open to the summer breeze.

“Welcome to Frampton Grange.” Beth grinned as she walked with Kirsten up the steps. “We’ll get your bags later. Come and meet Sarah first.”

Right on cue the little girl appeared through the door, running at full speed toward them.

“Gran,” she exclaimed in excitement, “you’re back.”

She jumped into the woman’s arms, looped her limbs around her as if she had been absent for much longer than just the day.

Beth smiled and hoisted Sarah onto her waist. The girl cast a shy smile at Kirsten as she approached and rested her head onto her grandmother’s shoulder for reassurance.

“Sarah, this is Kirsten.”

“Hi.” Her tiny voice was barely audible.

“Hi, Sarah. I’m so pleased to meet you. Your grandmother has told me all about you.”

Kirsten smiled and reached out to shake hands.

Sarah seemed so small for her age, her arms and legs surprisingly thin. Beth encouraged her to hold out her hand to be introduced and she did so reluctantly.

“Pleased to meet you,” Sarah said as if the words had been rehearsed. She looked as if she were worried Kirsten was going to eat her.

“Wow, you’re very polite.” Kirsten smiled.

“Shall we show Kirsten around the house?” Beth set Sarah back on her feet and took her by the hand.

“Ah-huh.” The little girl nodded. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and fixed with a red ribbon, tiny wisps escaped from either side to frame her pretty face. She looked at Kirsten with wide soft brown eyes, curiosity slowly stealing her timidity as they entered the house. They walked into a large kitchen. The dining area had a perfect view of the front yard and sun streamed through the picture windows onto the varnished chipboard floor. A massive double door fridge and freezer, complete with ice maker stood next to a small breakfast bar which separated the kitchen into a practical work area. A custom made chopping block with a checkered top stood in the middle of the floor. Around the ceiling a brass railing had been attached to hold an array of pots and pans. It was definitely a working kitchen, spacious and clean. The benches held an appliance for every occasion. Frying pans, blenders, juicers, waffle irons, any food you could imagine could be produced in this one place. A tall man with thinning sand coloured hair stood next to the sink. The sleeves of his white kitchen jacket were folded above his elbows.

“Kirsty, this is Craig. He’s our most gracious cook and also our caretaker. If you need to know anything Craig is the man to ask.”

“Hello, Craig.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Kirsty.” He wiped his big hands on a tea towel and stepped forward to shake hands. Kirsten guessed he was about the same age as the lady of the house.

They left Craig to prepare the evening meal and continued their way out into a wide corridor at the back of the house. It seemed more like a room than a hallway to Kirsty.

Cupboards with wooden paneled doors lined the walls, the end compartment housing a service elevator to the upper levels.

Beth explained, “This house was planned for a woman in a wheelchair. Hence the reason for everything being so spacious.”

At the end of the corridor a wide staircase wound upwards to the right until it reached the second floor, dark hand varnished railings a gorgeous contrast to the cream plush carpets. Books lined the built in shelves all the way up as they climbed. The smell of old musty pages filled Kirsten’s nostrils as she scoped the titles. There were old hardback copies of The Lord of the Rings, volumes of encyclopedias from different countries, a whole series of National Geographic magazines, and classics such as Wuthering Heights and Moby Dick. Writers old and new could be found, Sarah’s influence showing with books from J.K. Rowling, Joy Cowley and Margaret Mahy. It was a rainy day paradise. Kirsten hoped she would be allowed to borrow from their extensive library.

The second floor housed most of the bedrooms, five in total, including a guest bedroom and rumpus room for Sarah. Elizabeth slept on this floor, as did Sarah and her father, Jamie. Tyler resided on the third floor, in the room adjacent to his office. The whole house seemed to be laid with the same carpet, the rooms warm, fresh and tastefully decorated. Kirsten’s room was at the North Eastern end of the house on the third floor. Facing the sea on one side she had a wonderful view of the bay below from a tiny balcony. The second row of windows caught the morning sun. The room had been freshly painted in a subtle shade of apricot. Set to one side was a small ensuite with a shower over the bath, a toilet and hand basin. The room next to hers was a tiny office which served as a classroom for Sarah. The young girl had never been to a conventional school, so everything she needed was here for home learning, including her own computer.

Climbing back down the stairs, they circled the other side of the first floor, finding the downstairs bathroom and toilet, the laundry, a small TV room, formal dining room and large lounge.

“We have a cleaner who comes twice a week, but mostly we all pitch in to keep the place tidy,” Beth instructed. They walked through the French doors to the patio. The blue water of the pool contrasted against the green backdrop of the ocean beyond. Sarah let go of her grandmother’s hand and crept closer to Kirsty for a better look. Kirsten had made a point of ignoring the child, to let her come out of her shell in her own good time. She found this always worked best with children who were a little shy. Sure enough, Sarah’s curiosity was getting the better of her. She was now right beside Kirsten, blinking her long lashes inquisitively at the strange woman with curly red hair. Craig emerged from the kitchen to help Kirsten with her bags, and they piled them into the lift to save carrying them two flights of stairs.

“It’s just the four of us for dinner,” Beth explained as they moved her things into her room. “We like to have a meal altogether if only once a day.” She smiled. “You’ll soon get used to the nuances of everyone around here.” She looked down at her granddaughter and smiled. “Dad’s away a lot, isn’t he?”

Sarah nodded, the two middle fingers of her right hand wedged firmly between her lips.

“Tyler travels a lot too. We have two restaurants in town and a salmon farm which keeps him pretty busy. So I like to keep the family together as much as possible.

Breakfast and lunch are whenever you feel like it. If Craig is around he will fix anything you want, but during the day he’s kept busy elsewhere so we look after ourselves.”

The middle aged man smiled fondly at Beth as he hauled the last of Kirsty’s belongings from the lift.

“With it being the school holidays at the moment things are a little off schedule, but during the week we try to encourage a bit of routine with Sarah.”

Kirsty nodded. “Yes, I understand that.”

“Anyway,” Beth smiled, “there’s plenty of time to talk about that. Why don’t we leave you alone to get unpacked?” She glanced at her watch. “What time is dinner Craig?”

Craig turned at the door. “Two hours. I’m running a little late tonight. Even though I had help in the kitchen today.” He smiled at Sarah.

Beth and Kirsty smiled in understanding as Craig winked.

“Please make yourself at home, Kirsty.” Beth smiled warmly. Craig nodded and walked from the room, back downstairs to attend to dinner.

“Thank you very much, Beth,” Kirsty replied.

Beth took Sarah’s hand and went to the door. “Well just hold on to that thank you. You might not be thanking me in a couple of weeks.”

Kirsty looked warily at her new employer, unsure of what to say. Thankfully Beth smiled. “Just kidding, dear, I’m sure you’re going to love it here.”

Sarah pulled on Beth’s hand and whispered, “Can I stay grammy?” She glanced back at Kirsty to see if she had heard the question.

“No, honey, you come with me. Kirsty has to get unpacked. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her later.”

Kirsty smiled and watched them go. She could hear Sarah’s chirpy voice as they disappeared down the stairs, more lively now that she was out of earshot of the strange new occupant. Kirsty sat on the edge of the double bed, the cream crepe bedspread crinkled with stiffness beneath her. That would be the first thing to go. She unzipped her blue bag, pulled out a pale blue faux fur blanket and swapped it for the existing cover. She folded the unwanted duvet and deposited it into the cupboard above the wardrobe. The doors on the wardrobe were double mirrors, and she cast a glance at her reflection as she pulled them closed. Her hair was a shocking mess of curls, her freckled face pale and washed out. What she needed was a hot shower and a change of clothes before dinner. The unpacking could wait. She pushed the single door open to the balcony and a late afternoon breeze wafted into the room. She couldn’t believe how fresh the air smelled, it was like nothing she had experienced before. It was clean and pure, something you only noticed after being in a smoggy city for a long time. The view from her room was amazing; the hills that surrounded the bay were lush with the rich colours of native flora. And all around her was the sound of birds and cicadas, the muted noise of a boat whirring along in the water somewhere music to her ears. How could she be so lucky to just walk into a paradise like this?

Kirsten wandered downstairs, feeling refreshed after her shower in a clean pair of cotton trousers and a white sleeveless blouse. Her hair was now washed and back under control, pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck. A few wavy strands framed her face. She took her time getting to the first floor. Now alone, she could take some time to study the house. The walls were lined with artwork; an eclectic mix of modern and classic works. Some of the paintings seemed more like something Sarah would do with a roller, but Kirsten felt sure the price tags would infer otherwise. Opposite the stairwell of the second storey hung a wonderful painting of a slender young woman, wearing only a carefully positioned sarong, the ends blowing away from her in the soft breeze. Her long dark hair blew across her face, completely obscuring one eye and half her mouth. What could be seen however, showed the woman to be beautiful beyond compare. Her glamorous stare meant for the artist now looked upon Kirsten with giant brown eyes. It was here that Kirsten saw the resemblance to Sarah and she wondered if this was her mother.