The Maxwell Sisters (18 page)

‘Dad, this is awful.'

‘Nothing for you to worry about, my dear.'

‘Nothing for me to worry about!' she exclaimed. ‘I can't believe all this went on under my nose. But it still doesn't completely explain why Spider would commit arson.'

‘He gave me what I wanted in the worst possible way.' Her father shrugged. ‘He said he'd rather burn the restaurant down than cut all ties with Eve. And then that night … there it was, burning.'

‘It just seems a little extreme, Dad.'

‘Like I said, I can't prove it. But ask Heath, he'll tell you where he found the kerosene can.'

‘Heath found the kerosene can?'

‘It was in the restaurant office under Spider's desk.'

‘Surely he wouldn't be that dumb.'

‘He was dumb enough to pursue two of my daughters under my own roof.'

‘Point taken. But why did you ask Heath not to tell me any of this?'

‘I didn't want Eve to suffer more than she already had. And Phoebe is determined to marry him. If he remains faithful this time, I will give my blessing …' He coughed. ‘Reluctantly,' he added with a rueful smile.

Tash rubbed at her eyes, still trying to digest everything. She'd always thought of Spider as a rather harmless creature. Lanky and good-natured, even a tad naive. Compared to Heath, he was much less domineering and very mild-mannered. But what a ‘spider' he'd turned out to be.

‘I just can't believe I didn't notice. I didn't pick up on it,' she muttered half to herself, half to her father.

‘It amazes me how much you girls hide from each other now. When you were younger I used to get sick of your nattering. But as it turns out, in all that chatter you had nothing to say.'

Natasha grimaced. ‘Eve gets embarrassed very easily. And Phoebe is such a teaser. I'm not surprised Eve didn't tell her initially, but why didn't she say something later?'

He shook his head. ‘That's a question for Eve.'

Natasha folded her arms. ‘I'm going to get to the bottom of this.'

This time her father grinned at her. ‘Now that is the Natasha I like to see. I would be very pleased to hear the results of this mission.'

‘Do you have a staff list for the restaurant? There was more than one person in the restaurant that night, someone else could have had motive. I'm going to get an explanation for Eve. I owe her that much, at least.'

‘Good.' He stood up. ‘Where are you going?'

‘To finish my walk.'

‘Are you coming to the restaurant later?'

‘Probably.' But his voice was non-committal. He seemed distracted again and she could not blame her mother for her concern.

She watched him disappear down the hill till she could see him no longer. Why was it that talking to her father always left her with more unanswered questions? Still, their exchange made her feel so much better. What she had lacked a moment ago was purpose. Goals always gave her a sense of safety.

But you can't rely on goals, remember? There are no sure things in life.

She rose from her seat and turned back to go the way she had come.

No, but there are always options.

Adam's feet scuffed the gravel as he walked through the block of chardonnay that he was in two minds about harvesting. The fruit was heavy and plump. He stopped to take another reading with his refractometer, a device that measured the sugar levels in grapes. The fruit was almost the correct balance but not quite. In frustration, he pulled one off the vine and ate it. Sometimes his tastebuds were a better gauge than a machine. Sweet, warm juice burst in his mouth. If he left it one more day, it would be perfect. Of course, he couldn't be absolutely certain until that time came, because wine was not an exact science. In these circumstances, sometimes you had to go with what your gut or, in this case, your tongue, told you.

He'd love to perform a similar taste test on Eve Maxwell. She was the kind of girl you wanted to kiss just to see what happened. He laughed as he thought about it. She was shy but fiery, reserved but sensual, quiet but passionate. She got riled up over the smallest things and he loved watching her stammer and blush before fighting back. How Spider had remained indifferent to her was a mystery. She was such a contradiction and the lure to unravel her was almost irresistible.

But with the ashes of his last relationship still smouldering, he was hardly in a position to follow up on that. He'd been hurt and used and he had no desire to do that to somebody else. And he was pretty sure Eve Maxwell was not into casual flings. The girl had seemingly remained faithful to a man who saw her only as a friend.

When they'd had breakfast together he'd felt a connection with her. A kind of common ground. She was hoping to lay low and so was he. All he'd been thinking about when he'd mentioned friendship was that it might be nice to hang out with someone who understood him, who he could be himself around. He hadn't meant to upset her.

Given her current situation, of moving from one family crisis to another, he had thought she could use a neutral friend, someone who got where she was coming from and didn't judge. But apparently that wasn't so.

Being fairly new in town himself, he didn't know that many people. He had tried to befriend some of the cellar hands and vineyard guys at Tawny Brooks, but they were all a little standoffish because, essentially, he was their boss. Some of them, he found out later, had actually applied for his position when it came up and been turned down. He knew that would suck. He understood their resentment and also their rivalry. He also noticed their lack of patience with less important staff, such as the estate gardener, Eric Matheson. The kid was only nineteen, so his opinion amongst many of the staff was not highly valued. He tended to be dismissed or sent on errands no one else wanted to do. Having himself once been the dogsbody who was always passed over, he took pity on Eric and tried to protect him a little from his peers.

The sun beat down, warming the broad brim of his hat and making him sweat. He had often wondered what it was that had made John Maxwell pick him out from the crowd. He chuckled.
Maybe I don't want to know.

Today he was supposed to be helping out at the restaurant and he wondered how long he could put off showing up. At least a couple of hours. He would go check on his men. They were supposed to be finishing up the cleaning they'd started two weeks ago. If he was going to start pulling his first batch of grapes off the vine, all the vats had to be spotless, the de-stemmer and press had to be immaculate and the picking bins needed to be ready to go. When the chardonnay came off they'd need every hand on the estate, including those small delicate ones that had chopped chives only hours earlier.

He had every intention of putting Eve and everyone in her family to work. Somehow they'd managed to rope him into helping out with the restaurant, attending the wedding and chasing the head of the household around the countryside whenever he disappeared. Not to mention Phoebe's wedding-chore lucky dip. ‘Lucky' wasn't exactly the word he'd use. He was stuck sourcing wedding chair sashes and linens for the restaurant with Spider. First, he wasn't entirely sure he liked Spider, and second, was there even an organisation out there that actually made a living from hiring out that crap? He had an awful feeling he was about to find out. In the meantime, he would be happy to dole out some of his own punishment to those Maxwell girls.

He glanced at his watch. There was something else he needed to take care of first though. It was a delicate matter that required some stealth. He grinned mischievously, surprised at how much he was enjoying this subterfuge. Early that morning, after Eve had walked out on him, he'd started cleaning up their dirty dishes, and noticed she had left her dressing gown complete with burnt sleeves on the kitchen floor. As much as he thought her penchant for leaving unprotected love letters in tea jars rather endearing, he surmised her burnt lingerie on the kitchen floor wasn't a message she'd like the whole family to receive when they turned up later that morning. So he'd picked it up, cut off the smelly burnt bits, folded it neatly and put it in the back of his ute.

He'd been considering his options on how to get it back to her. There was simply knocking on the front door of the house, meeting her discreetly in a dark barrel room or sneaking into her bedroom – all of which appealed to him a great deal but he figured wouldn't impress her overly much. Now, as he was walking back to his ute, he happened to spy a red Barina already parked outside the restaurant.

So she was there already! How convenient. The desire to go inside and tease her was palpable but he reined it in.

Don't tempt fate, Adam.

What an annoying thing a conscience was. With a sigh, he walked over to his ute and fished the dressing gown off the front passenger seat. There was an easy solution here that he wasn't going to pass up.

No one locked their doors in the country, so it wouldn't be a problem. He strolled over to the Barina, opened the back door and placed the dressing gown on the backseat. He was about to shut the door when a little devil on his shoulder prompted him to go one step further. Taking his notepad out of his front shirt pocket and a lead pencil from behind his ear, he wrote: ‘
When you're ready, I'd also like my blanket back
.'

He tore the note from his pad, dropped it on top of the dressing gown and shut the door. He imagined her little gasp and cautious glance around when she found it.

You've really got to stop pushing her buttons, Adam.

He laughed as he hopped into his ute and drove off to the winery.
Maybe tomorrow.

Phoebe awoke with a burst of optimism.

Spider groaned as she jumped out of bed and started rummaging around in their bedroom, looking for something to wear.

‘What are you doing?' he asked. ‘Surely it's not time to get up yet.'

A glance at the clock on the bedside table told her it was seven thirty-three.

‘It's late enough,' she shrugged. ‘I can't sleep now. I'm too excited. Aren't you excited?'

‘Ecstatic.' His tone entirely contradicted the word, which hurt just a little but she brushed it off. He was just tired and cranky, not used to sleeping in this bed, which, she had to admit, was a little lumpy.

‘Well, I can't sleep now.' She made her voice light as she closed her suitcase, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt over one arm. ‘There's too much to be done.'

‘Not really,' Spider grunted and rolled over. ‘You seem to have done a pretty good job with delegation.'

She paused in the act of pulling on her shorts. ‘You're not mad about that, are you?'

‘What do you think, Phee?'

His voice sounded cold and instinctively she knew there was a fight brewing. It was the last thing she wanted when she was in such a hopeful mood.

‘Look, can we talk about it later? I really don't want to miss the beams arriving.'

‘Fine,' he murmured.

She eyed him uncertainly, not knowing whether she was risking too much by leaving him disgruntled.

‘Just go, Phee,' he said without looking up. ‘I know you want to. And like you said, we'll talk about it later.'

Putting off a fight did make things awkward, though – especially at breakfast. He could barely look at her when he belatedly walked into the kitchen. Or during the discussion with Eve about food at the wedding. Luckily, by that stage she was almost through her meal, so was able to make an escape alone to the restaurant without too much hassle. She arrived just in time to see a bunch of guys unloading a stack of timber from a white semitrailer.

As she waved them off, Eric strolled up. ‘Hi, Phee,' he said cheerfully. He was going to help them out at the restaurant that morning.

‘Oh, hi, Eric,' she greeted him warmly. ‘How are you today?'

‘Okay, I guess. You?'

‘Ready to get started.' She nodded. ‘Thanks for helping out.'

‘No worries,' he replied shyly, rolling a rock under the top of his right boot. He squinted up at the sun. ‘It's a good day for it.'

‘Yes, it is.' She was pleased with his enthusiasm.

‘So where's Spider?'

‘Oh,' Phoebe waved her hand, ‘he wanted to sleep in a little more.'

She tried to ignore an irritating niggle at the back of her mind. It was kind of disappointing that she was out here, game as a footballer in AFL season, and he was so uninterested.

I mean, this is our wedding, for goodness sake.

Even Eric was more enthusiastic than him. As if to echo her thoughts, he held up a bag. ‘I've found gloves for everyone. They're just old gardening gloves from my equipment sheds but it'll save everyone getting splinters.'

‘Aw, thanks, Eric.'

He blushed. ‘No worries.'

As he walked off, she frowned. His thoughtfulness only highlighted further Spider's distant behaviour. But she refused to allow herself to dwell on this for too long.

The restaurant floor needed to be replaced and they didn't have a lot of time to do it. Spider's mild crankiness, if you could call it that, could be dealt with later. She could smooth his ruffled feathers over a nice glass of wine and some quality time that evening. She was sure that living with her family and his parents was taking all the romance out of this venture for him.

He just needed a bit of reassurance.

 

She wasn't impressed, however, when he turned up fifteen minutes later than her sisters and his own parents. What was he doing that the renovations came second? She didn't want to cause a scene so she said nothing about his tardiness and greeted him with a kiss and a hug. He responded, but very abruptly, as though something was bothering him.

Now wasn't the time to ask him about it though, so she banished the niggling worry to the back of her mind and tried to focus on the job.

After sweeping the floor, their first task was to remove the floor beams of the restaurant. It was too hard to replace just the damaged ones without the renovation looking funny so Heath had recommended they just do the lot. Once bolts were loosened, this was a lift and carry job that was done in groups. Adam turned up halfway through, bringing with him another guy from the vineyard to make the work go faster.

While they did achieve this result, Phoebe's real goal of bringing the family together was not being realised. She had thought that renovating the restaurant would make them talk, that it would become a sort of icebreaker for the various issues and hang-ups they had collected over the months and years. In her mind, all that was needed was to put her family in the same room and force them to work together.

She was wrong.

Sentences started and then stopped. Conversations turned into heavy silences quicker than cream curdles under heat. Everybody seemed to be overly anxious not to put a foot wrong.

Adam was careful with Eve. Eve was careful with Spider. Heath was careful with Tash.

And Tash was careful with her.

Spider seemed to be more focused on his parents than anything else. Not that she blamed him. They seemed to flit around nervously like tropical birds dumped on an iceberg, not knowing quite what to do. Patricia, especially, was sulking. Phoebe began to wonder at the wisdom of not having been there at breakfast with the rest of the family. Had something happened between Patricia and her mother?

There was, at least, one silver lining. Eve and Tash seemed to be getting along better. As the morning progressed their wariness around each other seemed to fade. She even saw them laughing at one point, and went over to ask them what was so funny.

‘We were discussing what sort of music you and Spider might enjoy at your wedding,' Eve revealed.

Phoebe remembered that they had both drawn the task of ‘Organising the music' from her lottery the day before, and congratulated herself on having at least one strategic win.

‘We were reminiscing about all your old favourites,' Tash grinned.

‘My old favourites?' Phoebe's eyes darted from one sister to the other. They looked entirely too mischievous.

‘Backstreet Boys,' Tash said archly. ‘Brian Littrell.'

Phoebe's hand covered her mouth at this blast from the past. Every generation had its dancing, singing, too-much-hair-gel boy band. And her teenage years were no exception.

‘Come on, guys, you liked them too.'

‘We didn't have a hundred and one pictures of Brian Littrell on our bedroom walls though.' Eve shook her head.

‘Do you remember what you used to do?' Tash's eyes suddenly widened at the memory.

‘Oh, please,' Phee covered her face with her hands and peeped through her fingers, ‘don't remind me.'

Tash ignored her. ‘She used to put on her pink cherry lip gloss, stand on her bed and kiss him on the lips all the time. Dad used to say if she didn't stop doing it she'd put a hole in his face.'

Eve gasped. ‘I completely remember that.'

They laughed.

Phoebe moaned.

At this point, Spider came over. ‘Should I be worried?'

Phee quickly swatted her hand at him. ‘Go away, I don't want you listening to this.' She had meant it as a joke but, to her surprise, he just looked hurt.

‘Fine.' With jaw set, he walked off.

Damn it. Here we go again.
He was so sensitive about everything lately. And she was over having to deal with it. She needed Spider to step up and be strong for her now, not act like a baby. They had too much going on. The wedding, her parents, her dad …

‘So what do you reckon?' Tash was addressing her again. ‘Should we hire the local boy band? Is there one?'

‘Er … no thanks,' Phoebe quickly informed her. ‘I think I'd prefer something very classical for the wedding. Preferably no singing. And just a DJ for the reception.'

‘Will do,' Tash nodded. ‘I think I've got a few ideas.'

‘Is that what Spider wants too?' Eve asked quietly.

‘Spider said he was quite happy for me to choose whatever,' Phoebe replied airily, though her eyes strayed across the room to where her fiancé was talking to Heath.

He did say that, right? So why is he being funny about it now?

Eve interrupted the thought. ‘I think he's just feeling a little left out, you know.' As Phoebe turned in surprise to her sister, Eve looked uncomfortable. ‘I mean, I could be wrong. You know him better than I do.'

‘Well, you are one of his oldest friends,' Phoebe conceded. ‘I'm sure he confides in you.' She was often jealous of Spider's close relationship with Eve. Not because she believed there was anything inappropriate about it. But she did at times feel there was a piece of himself he reserved for her sister. They would always have something that she wasn't quite a part of.

‘I wouldn't say he confides in me a lot.' Eve struggled under her sister's steady gaze, her hands wringing. ‘Hardly at all, really. In fact, we've grown rather distant of late. I think we're in completely different places in life right now and in our careers and –'

‘Eve,' Phee grabbed her hands, ‘it's okay, I get it.'

Her sister gave a large sigh of relief. ‘Thanks. I honestly didn't mean to intrude.'

‘You weren't.'

‘Okay.' Tash clapped her hands, once again taking on the role of leader. ‘Recess is over. Let's get back to work.'

So they continued for another couple of hours. At one o'clock they decided to break for lunch. Everyone staggered into the kitchen, peeling off their gloves. The awkwardness between them before had slowly lessened, due in most part to exhaustion.

‘I think it's Make-Your-Own,' Phoebe announced. ‘Mum said she stocked the kitchen with rolls and salads and …' She opened the fridge. ‘And apparently a stack of crepes. Eve, they look like your recipe.'

Her sister blushed. ‘Yeah, I er … may have helped out too.'

As she finished talking, Anita breezed in. ‘I thought there might not be enough food so I roasted a chicken.'

There was a groan as she put a gorgeous tray smelling of rosemary and thyme on one of the central counters. More food?

Anita put her hands on her hips. ‘What? You don't want the chicken?'

‘Of course we want it.' Adam immediately left his seat to come over to carve it.

‘There's just so much food,' Phoebe murmured.

‘With hard work you need to keep your energy up.' Anita nodded. ‘Where's your father?'

‘I asked him not to come.'

‘Not come?' Anita demanded. ‘Why not?'

Phoebe bit her lip. ‘He's getting old, Mum. I didn't want him to hurt himself.'

Her mother sniffed. ‘He's not so fragile. Now we have no idea where he is.'

Soon everyone was tucking into the food, chicken rolls all round, and began congratulating themselves on the progress so far. There was no doubt about it, they had made a great start on removing the restaurant floor and everyone was pretty enthused by the morning's achievement. Even Eve, who Phoebe had been worried might get a little sullen as the restaurant came back to life, was pretty happy.

Maybe she'll start cooking in the restaurant again.

Even as she was thinking this, she watched Spider do something very strange. He walked over to the tea jar, rummaged through it like he was looking for something, before picking out a tea bag and making himself a cup of tea.

What the hell?

Phoebe's heart rate quickened. Did she just see what she thought she did?

There was only one way to find out.