Authors: Holly Ford
Jen smiled back gently. ‘Okay.’
Opening the porch door, she stepped out into the morning.
‘Charlie?’
‘What?’ She looked back over her shoulder.
‘Just … don’t be too long, okay?’
Tinks was waiting, nose pressed to the wire, when Charlotte walked past the run. Taking pity on her, Charlotte let her out. In the bay shed, Charlotte unhooked the quad bike keys from the security box, coaxed the cold four-stroke into life and set off on the track up to Rough Creek Spur.
Behind her, Tinks surfed the tray, ears flying.
The sky was still an early-morning grey, damp and flat. Ahead, the tip of Mount Pickford, just clearing the cloud, was starting to catch the sun. At the top of the spur, Charlotte turned the bike around, looking back over the valley. Tinks jumped down. So — this was it. She turned the ignition off, and the silence wrapped around her.
Charlotte checked her watch. Four hours from now, she would have been standing here marrying Luke. She sat still, watching the sunlight break over the Rosalie Range. All around, a fine net of dew lay over the long grass. Everyone would be getting their feet wet, today.
God, she’d made some plans up here. Not many of them had worked out. There’d been that boy in high school — what was his name? Any number of schemes to impress her dad … Mad ideas, like the house she’d build if he gave her even a hectare or two. So she’d had one more — so what? This place could soak that up too.
What had she dreamed of mostly? It being hers. Until death do us part. She had her first love. The rest — well, that was just being greedy.
There were fewer ghosts up here than she’d thought. Tinks, soaking wet and covered in grass seed, jumped back on the bike and panted in her ear. Charlotte looked around — at the river fanned out below the terrace cliffs, the shingle screes cutting the hills, the glacier lost in lowering cloud over her shoulder. Sooner or later, fast or slow, everything moved on.
She turned the key. As she made her way slowly off the spur, it began to rain.
Back at the homestead, Charlotte showered and changed and got ready for work. It was nothing to write home about. Just another drizzly autumn day.
On a sun-warmed rock, the lambs were playing king-of-
the-castle
. Charlotte took another picture for her report. The stud ewes had finished lambing last week — in a minor miracle, they’d got eighty per cent success from AI, and a hundred and forty overall. Getting the lambs through to tailing was, of course, another matter.
They’d been lucky so far this year. A quiet winter, a warm, wet spring. The wool clip was already money in the bank, and the Fratelli Sammartino mills had their first ultrafine bale. Okay, so they wouldn’t get much more than the contents of Flavia’s wardrobe out of Blackpeak this time around, but it was a start. A good start.
Charlotte watched the next lamb take its turn at the top.
He was a biggie — a ram lamb almost certainly, and early enough to have come from the Australian sire. She sighed happily. In another nineteen months, some of these little guys would be spreading their expensive genes through the main flock.
She checked her watch. Nearly time to Skype Nick. Putting her camera away, she climbed back in the truck and headed home.
Kath’s car was in the drive, and Charlotte smiled. With Andrea down from Christchurch since the September quake, Kath didn’t really need to come up to the homestead every day. But you just couldn’t keep her away.
‘I can’t let you pay me for doing nothing,’ she’d exclaimed, when Charlotte had tried to suggest Kath treat Andrea’s stay as an overdue holiday. ‘What about the garden? I can do that.’ Six weeks on, the borders were ready any time
House & Garden
should drop by, and the veggie patch had never looked so neat.
‘Hello, darling.’ Andrea looked up from her scone dough. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘Thanks.’
Charlotte carried it through to the office and logged on. Right on time. It was ten o’clock in Milan — just after dinner, apparently.
‘Hey, Charles.’ Nick’s face popped up. God, he looked more Italian every time she saw him. Well, apart from the hair. And the eyes …
‘
Ciao
, Carlotta!’ Flavia draped herself over Nick’s shoulder.
‘Hi guys.’
‘How are our lambs today?’
‘Hang on a minute.’ Smiling, Nick shook his head. ‘Before you girls get onto sheep again, we have news.’ He paused.
Good news, she hoped — although Flavia looked a bit worried.
‘
Cara
, I hope it is not upsetting for you, but …’
Uh-oh. But what?
‘We’re getting married,’ Nick cut in.
Oh — wow. ‘That’s fantastic!’ Oh dear, she was tearing up. ‘I’m so happy for you. Congratulations. Have you told Mum?’
‘Not yet.’ Now Nick looked a bit nervous as well. ‘There’s something we wanted to talk to you about first.’
Charlotte dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘What?’
‘Well, the thing is … we were wondering how you’d feel if — well, Flavia’s family think it’d be really cool if we had the wedding at Blackpeak.’
‘But we do not have to,’ said Flavia quickly. ‘I think perhaps it is too — difficult — for you.’
‘No.’ Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘Of course you should have it here.’
‘Grazie, cara
… you are sure? It is really okay for you?’
Actually … it kind of was. She smiled. ‘So long as you don’t want to do it up at Rough Creek Spur.’
‘
Cara
.’ Flavia pressed her fingers to her lips. God, that was quite a rock she had on her hand — so that was where Blackpeak’s purchase price had gone.
‘We were thinking more like the lawn,’ smiled Nick.
‘Perfect.’ For a moment, they stared at each other. ‘So … when?’
‘How does April sound?’ Nick raised his eyebrows. ‘Flavia’s dad wants to see the start of the muster.’
Yikes. ‘Sure …’ She shook her head. ‘God, I can’t believe my brother’s getting married … hang on, let me get Mum …’
Half an hour later, after everyone except Nick had cried
and Andrea had started on the guest list, Nick interrupted.
‘Actually, Mum, there’s some business stuff we needed to talk to Charlotte about as well.’
‘Oh, all right, darling.’ Tactfully, Andrea withdrew.
Nick blew out his cheeks.
‘Do you really need to talk to me?’ Charlotte smiled.
‘I need not to talk about that for another hour,’ he sighed. ‘It’s bad enough at this end. There are so many Sammartinos, I’m not sure there’s going to be room on the lawn for anyone I know.’
Flavia narrowed her eyes at him.
‘But anyway — yeah, there is something. There’s an operation Fratelli Sammartino wants you to go and have a look at. They’re really getting their microns down, and they’re clipping the perfect length for the mills.’
‘Sure!’ Charlotte picked up a pen. ‘Where is it?’
‘About five hours out of Brisbane.’
Australia? Seriously? ‘Um,’ she stammered, ‘I don’t know … I’m not sure I can really get away.’
‘Matt’s back, isn’t he? He and Rex can handle the place for a bit. Take a week off — make it a holiday.’
On her own?
‘You can take Jen with you.’ Nick read her thoughts. ‘Come on, Charles, how long since you’ve been off the station?’
Umm …
‘Exactly. Go!’ He smiled. ‘Anyway, this is an order from the big boss — you don’t really have a choice.’
Well, when you put it like that — ‘Okay, okay. He’ll have to wait for a few weeks though. I can’t go straight away.’
Nick sighed. ‘And why’s that?’
‘I’ll have to get a passport.’
A month later, passport in hand, Charlotte sat nervously in the departures lounge at Christchurch Airport. She’d flown a few planes, briefly, over the years, but she’d never been on a commercial flight. Not that she was worried it might crash — more that she’d make a dick of herself. She’d already caused a minor security alert by forgetting that the new hoof-paring knife she’d bought at the Show yesterday was still in her jacket pocket.
Jen came back with the coffees. ‘There you go — one sugar.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Was that Flavia on the phone again last night?’
‘Sure was.’
‘What’s the Sammartino-count up to now?’
‘Actually, it’s gone down — apparently Great-aunt Orietta can’t make it.’
‘Shame.’ Jen grinned, then yawned.
Charlotte looked around. God, there were a lot of
loved-up
couples in here. She hoped they weren’t all getting on her plane. Look at those two …
‘Ugh.’ Jen followed her gaze. ‘Get a room.’
Charlotte sipped her coffee. Phew, that ought to put hairs on her chest. She stirred in the rest of the sugar. ‘Do you think we’ll ever meet someone?’ she smiled.
‘Um …’
Um? She studied Jen more closely.
‘Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.’
No way! ‘You’ve met someone? Who?’
‘You know Hannah …’
The vet? Who’d have guessed? Wow, she was pretty … Charlotte grinned — so that’s why Jen’s dogs were always sick these days. She nudged Jen’s shoulder. ‘So how long’s that been going on, then?’
Jen looked embarrassed. ‘About five months or so.’
What? ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I know, I know — I meant to, it’s just …’ Jen winced. ‘Well, when we first got together, you were so bummed about — stuff … it didn’t seem like the right time to tell you that I’d …’ She broke off, smiling, and stared into her cup.
‘That you’d what?’ Oh! Charlotte’s eyes widened. Fallen in love? She stared at Jen.
Glancing up, Jen bit her lip briefly, then nodded. ‘Yeah. That.’
Double wow. ‘That’s fantastic — I’m so happy for you.’ God, she seemed to be saying that a lot, these days. ‘Really. That’s just — it’s great.’ Putting down her coffee, she gave Jen a hug.
‘Hey.’ Jen searched her face. ‘You’ll meet someone too, you know.’
Yeah, right.
‘Oh, come on — you will.’ Jen smiled. ‘The world’s full of guys. Look, there’s one — he’s hot.’
Charlotte looked. Actually, he was pretty hot. Well, the back of him, at least. Her eyes travelled up his well-cut suit to his muscular shoulders and — holy crap. She grabbed Jen’s knee.
‘What is it?’
The PA system blurted a final boarding call. He turned. She stood up as he walked towards her.
‘Charlotte.’ He looked down into her eyes. ‘How’ve you been?’
‘Fine,’ she managed. God, had he always looked this good?
Beside her, Jen waved. ‘Hi, Rob.’
‘Jen — hey, good to see you.’ The familiar blue eyes returned to Charlotte’s face. ‘You look well.’ They softened.
‘I heard … well, I saw your mother a few months back and she told me …’
Oh, crap.
‘Anyway.’ Rob smiled. ‘You look good.’
Her coat slipped from her arm. They both dropped to their heels to pick it up. ‘Sorry.’ Charlotte regathered the coat, losing her bag in the process. Rob, his knee touching hers, his face inches away, slid the fallen strap up her bare arm and back onto her shoulder. ‘There.’
The PA system called for final passengers.
‘That’s me.’ He let go of the strap. ‘Guess I’d better go.’
Together, they rose. He ran a hand through his wavy gold hair, pushing it back from his eyes. God, that brought back some memories. Very good memories. Too good, really, to be having in a departure lounge with five hundred people looking on …
‘It was good to see you, Charlie.’
‘You too.’
Charlotte watched him walk away. At the gate, he turned for half a second, and smiled. Oh! She smiled back — too late. Hurriedly, the ground crew closed the gate behind him.
‘Whoa.’ Jen fanned her face with her boarding pass. ‘I thought you two were going to set the sprinkler system off there for a minute.’
Letting out her breath, Charlotte sat back down. She wished she’d asked when he was coming back. Or for that matter, where he was going. Melbourne, wasn’t that what the announcement had said? She checked the board — yes. Slowly, his plane taxied away from the gate. She could still feel Rob’s touch on her arm.
Jen kicked her ankle gently. ‘Told you so.’
Okay. Now she really couldn’t wait to get back. And
she hadn’t even left yet. Seven days. That was all. It wasn’t that long.
Charlotte turned off the main road and into Blackpeak’s gate with an enormous sense of relief. Interesting as the Australian stud had been — well, Christ, they might as well be farming a different planet. The heat! And she’d thought this place got dry … As for the three-day layover in Sydney the Sammartinos had landed them with — how did anyone think in a place like that? Okay, so the rooftop pool was nice, but there weren’t enough potted palms in the world to screen out that much chaos. It wasn’t until the Mackenzie Country opened up under her wheels that she’d felt she could breathe again. Winding down her window, she took a deep one now. If it was up to her, the next time she left this place would be in a box.
As she pulled into the drive, Jen opened her eyes. Charlotte leaned on the steering wheel, looking out at the house under its lush summer cover of jasmine and wisteria, the long green slope of the lawn, and the cloud-cloaked hills behind. It was starting to drizzle. ‘We’re home.’
‘Thank Christ for that,’ yawned Jen.
‘No kidding.’
Inside, they found a casserole and a note from Kath — back in charge since Andrea had decided to steel her nerves and go back to her townhouse in Christchurch.
Charlotte went off for a shower. She smiled at the small spider in the corner above the door — he didn’t look so bad now. Life with a fridge full of anti-venom … she shuddered. How crazy was that?
In her room, she unpacked her bag. God, it was quiet, here. And cold! With a happy sigh, she pulled on a jumper
and jeans and strolled back down the hall. Behind the bathroom door, she could hear the shower going. She walked through to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine and carried it out to the verandah to watch the garden soak up the rain. The long summer day was just letting go. As she sat there, the sinking sun found a gap in the cloud and poured across the lawn, edging everything in gold.
Jen wandered out through the open front door and sat down beside her. ‘So, have you called him yet?’
‘Who?’ Charlotte hedged.
Jen rolled her eyes. ‘You know who.’
‘No.’ Charlotte sipped her wine. ‘I haven’t. You want one? There’s a bottle open in the fridge.’
‘You’re going to soon, though, right? Because I think you’ve played hard enough to get already.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve decided not to.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Charlie. Why not?’
‘Well, what’s the point? Nothing’s changed. He’s still got a job in Christchurch, and I still live here.’
‘What’s the
point
?’ Jen shook her head in disbelief. ‘Wasn’t it pretty obvious last week? Christ, the whole bloody terminal got a look at the point. It was fucking glowing.’
Charlotte sighed — so much for ‘Charlie, think with your head’. But she was going to, this time. ‘Rob and I want different things. It won’t work.’
‘Not all by itself — of course not. You’ve got to put some effort into it, Charlie. Find a way.
Make
it work.’
Yeah. That was easy enough to say. But what if she couldn’t? If it didn’t? What then? She’d be right back where she was seven months ago — in a heap on the floor. God, she never, ever wanted to go through that again. And this … this could be so much worse. This was Rob. She
liked
Rob. A lot. If he came back into her life, it wouldn’t be so easy to let
him go. When it came down to choosing between him and Blackpeak — which it would, which it had to, again — she might not make the right choice. Which half of her heart she was willing to break.