Bottlebrush Creek Page 17

  ‘Sexiest painter in Victoria, no doubt about it,’ he said, pulling the bouquet of natives from underneath his jacket. ‘Love you, Ange. Sorry for being such a misery guts.’

  Rob kissed the surprised expression right off her lips.

  ‘You’re in a better mood,’ she said.

  ‘A few hours on the bike’s good for that. Next time we’ll all take the sidecar out, yeah?’

  He leaned in, wondering whether now was the right time to mention the bookwork. Angie threaded her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. The closeness felt good.

  The budget can wait.

  Twenty-four

  The Port Fairview playground was jam-packed with holiday-makers, and Angie had to scan the crowd to get a glimpse of Claudia and her little friends. She spotted them on the swing and settled back down on the picnic rug, lifting her skirt a little higher to soak up the glorious sunshine. An hour at the playground was just the thing to break up the long stretches of painting.

  ‘Need anything for the barbecue tonight, Bobbi?’ said Angie.

  Bobbi adjusted her sun hat. ‘All sorted. Just bring yourselves.’

  ‘I’ll bring nibbles and something for the kids,’ said Tessa with a tight smile. They still hadn’t cleared the air after the Christmas present fiasco, and Angie hoped tonight’s barbecue would do the trick.

  ‘I’d offer to bake something marvellous, but my caravan microwave isn’t ideal and the mini-oven’s only good for small things.’

  Bobbi waved a hand, jewellery flashing in the sunlight. ‘I’m sure Rosa would let you borrow her oven if you wanted to. Has she bitten any small children recently?’

  Angie laughed. ‘She called in a few days ago with an apology. And Max came with a peace offering yesterday.’

  ‘Did he now? Was he stripped down to his footy shorts, showcasing his ripped body? Funny how the weights class attendance increased tenfold when Max started frequenting the gym. Is he home for long? Do you see him much?’

  The fruit she’d been unpacking slipped from Angie’s hand. She hadn’t meant to mention that they had spent yesterday afternoon painting the cottage—or the fact she’d kept it from Rob—but somewhere between the swing set and the picnic rug, the admission had tumbled out.

  ‘Home for good, apparently. Taking over the dairy. Luckily, he keeps to himself. Different to his mother in that respect.’

  Bobbi laughed.

  Tessa waved a slice of watermelon at them. ‘Bet Rob’s not thrilled about him coming around with armfuls of cakes?’

  Angie grabbed another piece of fruit. Tessa’s comment had echoed Lara’s caution on the phone that morning: ‘Don’t let Max drive a wedge between you and Rob,’ Lara had advised.

  ‘I didn’t mention it to Rob. When he’s not working, he’s out on his motorbike. We’ve hardly done a lick of work on the house together since putting up the weatherboards. He came home with flowers last night, so he’s obviously feeling guilty about it.’

  ‘You’ve got one twin bringing you flowers, and the other bringing baked goods. It’s either a recipe for disaster or a seriously sinful romp …’ Bobbi said.

  Angie whacked her with a banana.

  ‘Ouch! Steady on, Angie, I was joking.’ Bobbi pouted and rubbed her arm.

  ‘God, sorry, Bobbi, I’m not thinking straight.’ Angie set down the banana and took a deep breath. Maybe I’m the one with a guilty conscience. She hadn’t planned on keeping Max’s visit from Rob, but he hadn’t mentioned a word about the cottage when he’d come home last night.

  It won’t happen again.

  ‘Renovations are tricky, but you’re doing a brilliant job. And you’ve got a wedding to plan soon. I’m so excited for you both,’ said Tessa, shooting her a smile. Angie looked down at her ring, quickly scratching a smudge of blue paint off the pearl. It had been less than a week, but somehow it felt like months since she’d shared their engagement news. Things will be smoother when we’ve moved in.

  Angie’s phone vibrated on the picnic blanket.

  ‘You going to answer? Might be Rob,’ said Bobbi.

  Angie gave her phone the side eye. ‘Unknown number. It’s either his mum, or Mrs Ellis from the dahlia club.’

  Tessa laughed. ‘It’d be easier to fake your own death than extricate yourself from the dahlia society.’

  ‘I know, but they don’t have anyone under the age of seventy on the committee. Still, I’ll be resigning as soon as the anniversary show is done, trust me.’

  The call rang out. Angie waited for the voicemail notification to pop up on the screen. She listened to the recording on speaker.

  Mrs Ellis’s crisp voice came down the line. ‘Angela, we have the sponsorship committee meeting tonight. Kindly call me back with the whereabouts of your meeting minutes. I expected them yesterday. You will be at the sponsorship committee meeting, won’t you?’

  Angie sighed and deleted the voicemail.

  Bobbi groaned. ‘Are you really going to let her boss you around? What did her last slave die of? You can’t be everything to everyone, you know, Angie. They’ll survive without you, I promise.’

  Tessa raised an eyebrow behind Bobbi’s back, knowing Angie had been roped into watching Jayden and Oscar while Bobbi finished shopping for her New Year’s Eve party.

  ‘You say that, but in this case they literally wouldn’t. No one else in the committee is under retirement age and they’ve got their twenty-fifth anniversary display in May. Easiest if I just get this over and done with.’

  Angie hit redial as she walked away, bracing herself for the latest committee request.

  Angie arrived home from the park to find Rob straddling the top of a ladder, holding the gutter level while Brett screwed it to the freshly painted fascia boards. The sight lifted a weight from her shoulders. See, he’s keen to keep moving forwards. Things are happening.

  ‘Brett, I thought you weren’t back at work until after New Year’s?’

  ‘Jonesy thought we might as well whip up the gutters so we can catch the next downpour. They’re tipping two inches tomorrow. With a roof this size, you’ll almost fill those new water tanks.’

  Angie smiled at Rob, softening. He looked happier than yesterday. ‘Good thinking. I’ll give you a hand.’

  She changed into her work clothes, then ferried tools and packets of screws to the men as they worked their way around the house perimeter. The sun was low on the horizon by the time they pulled up stumps.

  ‘What time are you heading to Bobbi and Alex’s place tonight?’ said Brett.

  ‘Quick shower and we’ll be ready,’ said Rob. ‘Not sure about that one though.’ He nodded at Claudia. ‘She might need some scrubbing.’ Her blonde curls and milky-white skin were hidden under a coating of mud. As if she could feel their gaze, Claudia turned from her muddy puddle by the tap and cheerfully waved a small trowel. Angie headed over to start the clean-up process, keeping an ear on the men’s banter as they packed up the tools. She didn’t like the bitter edge that had started creeping into Rob’s voice whenever he mentioned Bobbi’s name.

  ‘Bobbi will faint if Claudia brings that trowel to her place tonight and teaches their kids to dig dirt. From what I’ve heard, she’s allergic to fun,’ said Brett. Angie hesitated, waiting to hear Rob’s response.

  ‘I’m more worried about the food with Bobbi the health-freak in charge. Hopefully there’ll be more than salad and tofu dip.’

  Brett laughed. ‘I’m hearing you. I’d rather stay at home than listen to Alex bang on about the new Lexus he’s eyeing off. There’s something about him, isn’t there?’

  Violet ran up to Angie, proudly presenting her with a filthy towel that had been white when Angie had hung it on the clothesline earlier.

  ‘Gah, Violet!’ She kneeled down and gently prised the fabric from the dog’s teeth. Last week she would have yelled and chained her up immediately, but now she just sighed and resolved to hang the towels sideways next time, out of reach. She missed Rob’s
reply but caught Brett’s laughter afterwards.

  Angie turned and fixed Rob with a steely look. ‘Bobbi’s invited us into her home tonight, Rob. She’s my friend. And Tessa’s friend, too. You guys might want to keep that in mind.’

  The year seemed determined to end on a high note, with the scent of neighbourhood barbecues and sound of soft music floating on the gentle breeze. The children weaved in and around the box hedge that screened the outdoor eating area from the kids’ area in Bobbi’s backyard. Angie turned to check on Claudia. There hadn’t been any sign of biting at the playground earlier, and things had been smooth between the children for the last hour. Maybe Rosa’s tactic has actually worked? Angie sighed and took another sip of champagne.

  ‘Give me a look at your ring again, I’ve barely had a chance to admire it,’ said Tessa. Angie fanned out her fingers.

  ‘He’s got good taste,’ said Tessa. ‘Brett said you’ve done so much on the house since he was there last. Are you thinking of a garden wedding?’

  ‘Hell, no. Imagine adding that deadline to the mix!’

  Bobbi breezed in with a grazing platter. ‘Oh, don’t talk weddings without me! You have to let me plan it,’ said Bobbi.

  Angie grabbed some cucumber sticks and stuffed baby capsicums, knowing she needed food before she consumed too much wine.

  ‘Sit down with me, girls. These heels aren’t made for standing,’ said Bobbi, easing into a padded outdoor chair. She propped her lime-green stilettos on the coffee table and raised her glass again.

  ‘I propose a toast, to the new Mrs Jones, to new friends and to the new year ahead.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ added Tessa. ‘May it feature many more barbecues, a wonderful wedding and harmonious renovations, Angie.’

  Bobbi regaled them with a story about her interior designer and the new sofa she hadn’t been able to resist, making Angie wonder if she’d ever have the same luxury of a bottomless budget. Whatever Alex did with his machinery, it was obviously profitable. When’s the last time I even checked our bank account? The thought drifted away as their chatter moved to January holiday plans and recaps of their respective Christmas dinners.

  ‘We’re out of champagne.’ Bobbi began to get up.

  ‘No, you stay here. I’ll get it,’ said Angie, pushing herself up from the sumptuous chair.

  ‘I’ll come too, so I can have a stickybeak at your new lounge suite,’ said Tessa.

  They followed the bluestone path back to the house.

  ‘Please tell me I’m not the only one who was drooling over Bobbi’s old sofas and coffee table,’ said Angie, bringing a sprig of jasmine to her nose and breathing in the fragrance.

  ‘I know, right? I would have bought them for our house, if it wasn’t a completely different floor plan,’ laughed Tessa.

  The men were standing around the sizzling barbecue and their conversation washed over Angie and Tessa as they approached the deck. Alex’s voice rang over the top of the quiet laughter. ‘Bobbi told me you’ve had all sorts of dramas over your way. Wild pig sightings, tiger snakes, biting grandmothers. It’s just not your week, is it, Jonesy?’

  Angie put a hand on Tessa’s arm, using the raised garden bed screening to listen in, unobserved. Would Rob stick up for her or back Rosa again?

  There was a pause, and then Rob said, ‘Mum might be a bit full on, but she’s only trying to help. Between you and me, it’s a storm in a teacup.’

  Alex’s voice came next. ‘Women, hey?’

  Angie felt confused and humiliated, her cheeks burning as Rob laughed in response. A storm in a teacup? Women? Is that really what he thinks?

  ‘You’ve gotta be kidding me …’ said Angie.

  ‘Alex is a jerk. Rob probably didn’t mean it like that,’ Tessa whispered.

  Slogans for women’s rights flashed through Angie’s mind. ‘Letting a comment like that slide is almost as bad as saying it himself though,’ she said through gritted teeth. She stormed up the deck steps.

  Brett was the first to notice them. His eyes flicked to Rob, then back to her.

  Alex smiled at Angie as he nudged Rob. ‘I always say, “Happy wife, happy life,’’ eh, mate?’

  Rob began to offer a quick apology, but Angie pushed past him. He followed her into Bobbi’s house, not even stopping to slip off his shoes. ‘Ange … that sounded worse out loud,’ he said. Regret laced his words. She turned again and yanked open the first door she found.

  ‘Isn’t that the wine cellar?’ he said.

  Angie scowled at him before stepping inside and slamming the door behind her. Bottles of wine and cases of beer jiggled in protest, but she was too angry to admit she’d made a wrong turn. ‘I think I’ve heard more than enough, Rob. Go back outside.’ The cellar is as good a place as any to nurse my wounded pride, isn’t it?

  She sank down onto the steps, leaning against the door, surrounded by Coonawarra reds and boxes of boutique ales from the Otway Ranges. The handle rattled briefly, but Rob’s footsteps soon retreated.

  The cellar smelled musty, almost damp, and for a fleeting second she considered choosing something strong and squirrelling herself away between Bobbi’s gazillion-thread-count sheets to drink a whole damn bottle by herself.

  A storm in a teacup? Women?

  It was absolutely crushing to be dismissed, even if the comment hadn’t been meant for her ears. How can I marry someone who thinks like that?

  A light knock came at the door, then Tessa’s voice. ‘Tucker’s up. You right in there?’

  Angie unfolded herself, grabbed the closest bottle and walked stiffly through the house, blinking away tears.

  The rump steak, and rocket, pear and parmesan salad could have been sawdust for all Angie cared. She chewed each mouthful with short, deliberate movements, trying to focus on the number of chews on each side instead of the questions spinning through her mind. But as much as she tried to push aside the conversation, Alex’s comment and Rob’s laughter looped in her mind.

  A raucous laugh erupted from the far end of the dining table, and Bobbi’s voice rose as she tried to outdo her husband’s joke. Bobbi would cause a scene if she heard Alex make a comment like that, Angie was sure of it. Bobbi wouldn’t sit through a dinner where everyone else around the table knew her husband had taken his mother’s side over hers.

  A lump of steak lodged in her throat. She coughed, and looked around for a glass of water. A glass slipped into her hands. She gulped from it gratefully.

  ‘You okay?’ Rob’s voice was gentle but cautious.

  Angie bit back a sarcastic reply and glared at him. She scraped the remaining food to one side, set her cutlery down and pushed back her chair.

  ‘I’ve got a headache. I’ll take Claudia home, you can catch a ride with one of the boys, Rob,’ she said, unable to meet anyone’s eye. The last thing she could bear was another sympathetic look from Tessa, or a curious stare from the men, each trying to assess how much trouble Rob was in.

  ‘More champagne!’ called Bobbi. ‘You can’t leave yet!’

  ‘And we haven’t served dessert either. You’re not going to stay for the fireworks?’ asked Alex, draining his pale ale. Angie almost laughed. There’d be fireworks all right, but not at 10 p.m. and midnight as arranged by the local council. And she sure as hell wouldn’t be standing on Bobbi and Alex’s deck, gazing out at the ocean, when they went off.

  ‘I’m calling it a night,’ Angie said.

  Rob stood up quietly, swinging the nappy bag over his shoulder. He turned towards the cubby house. She grabbed his arm.

  ‘Don’t leave on my behalf. You can still have a good night out.’

  ‘Not happening. I’ll grab Claudia,’ said Rob.

  Angie summoned up the brightest farewell smile she could manage and Bobbi walked her along the hall and down the front garden path. A drop of rain fell on Angie’s shoulder, then another, and all of a sudden the sky dumped down rain.

  ‘Happy New Year, Angie,’ called Bobbi. Angie kept her eyes on the f
ootpath as salty tears mixed with raindrops, not bothering to contradict her friend.

  Heavy droplets of rain beat down on the shed’s roof, the sound interspersed with cracks of thunder. Rob waited for the downpour to steady before he bothered speaking again.

  His head ached with regret, and each fat raindrop on the tin drilled the mistake into his brain. Lightning illuminated the window over the sink and the rain finally let up.

  Rob looked at Angie strangling her mug. Her shoulders were ramrod straight, and even her halo of red curls seemed to have their own strength and fury.

  He swiped a hand across his stubbled jaw. ‘For the tenth time, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Mum. I should have backed you up without a second thought, even if I did think it was a lot of fuss over nothing. But is this even about the biting? You said you were going to make more of an effort to relax around Mum, and then all of a sudden you’re jumping down my throat again.’

  ‘Don’t put it on me, Rob. You could have said something like, “Here’s a funny story, Alex. My mum’s an interfering busybody who sticks her nose in other people’s business and occasionally takes things too far, like biting my child. It upset Angie, so to keep the peace I’m backing her one hundred per cent.” How about that?’

  Rob winced as Angie spat out the words in a low tone. Yelling would be better. Yelling would indicate she’d momentarily lost her temper and things would calm down when she got it back under control. He raised his mug and took a sip. The bitter coffee tasted like it’d been brewed in a septic tank. You’re in the shit now, Jones. He took another sip.

  ‘It’s a bit messed-up right now, but I do support you, Ange, and I shouldn’t have said otherwise. But she’s my mum. She loves us, she wants us to be happy and of course she wants what’s best for Claudia.’

  Angie glared at him.

  ‘So it’s Rosa’s way versus Angie’s way? Is her opinion more important to you than mine? And all this crap with Max. I’m stuck in the middle and I don’t even know what’s worse: you constantly taking your mum’s side, or this cold war between you and your brother and your dad! I thought my family had its moments, but you lot are in a different stratosphere. Those feral pigs aren’t a joke, either. And you didn’t even tell me about the money you and Max lost.’