Bottlebrush Creek Read online

  ‘Maybe a quick piece of cake before we hit the road, Ange? Our quiet night can handle a little delay, right?’

  He knew the cake, as much as the occasion, tipped the scales in his favour: Angie couldn’t bear to see food going to waste, especially something that had been baked with love.

  ‘A cuppa would be lovely, Rosa,’ said Angie.

  Less than two minutes later, they were standing in his parents’ kitchen. As always, the garden was in immaculate condition, from the golf club–quality lawns to the hot-pink roses lining the dairy walls, Rosa’s nod to aesthetics in an otherwise industrial part of the property.

  Rosa nestled a cosy over the teapot and wiped her hands on her neatly pressed slacks. ‘So what do you think?’ Her voice was hopeful. ‘Might be hard to imagine, Angie, but that cottage used to be the prettiest little thing. Yellow weatherboards instead of that faded mess, a snazzy burgundy roof without a hint of rust, and heritage-green latticework. Ivan and Ida took such great pride in it.’

  ‘It’s certainly something to think about,’ said Angie, taking another forkful of sponge cake. ‘Needs a lot of work, but it’s got—’ She paused as Rosa’s voice cut in over the top.

  ‘Good bones, hasn’t it? Wouldn’t take much to bring it up to scratch,’ said Rosa.

  Angie speared Rob with another look. He didn’t need words to know what she was thinking. Here for five minutes and your mum’s already finishing my sentences.

  Angie’s earlier excitement had waned significantly since Rosa’s appearance. Now Rob felt his own enthusiasm droop as a familiar maroon farm ute pulled into the driveway, metallic paint gleaming like it had just been washed.

  John Jones unclipped his dogs from the ute tray before pulling a comb from his back pocket, running it through his thin grey hair and walking into the house.

  Rob returned his father’s brief nod. His father’s nods and handshakes were the opposite of his mother’s bone-crunching embraces.

  Rosa crossed the room and pecked her husband’s clean-shaven cheek. ‘Look how big this little sweetheart is,’ she said, patting Claudia’s shoulder.

  John raised a heavy eyebrow. ‘Now, which one are you again? Cathleen? Kym?’ He made it sound like he had dozens of grandchildren instead of one.

  Claudia stuck out her little chin and fixed John with an indignant look. ‘I’m Claudia.’

  John’s lips twitched. ‘Really? You any good at feeding calves?’

  Claudia pondered the question, polished off her biscuit and climbed down from her stool. She reached for Rob’s hand, pulling him towards the back door. ‘C’mon, Daddy.’

  Rob hesitated. ‘You go with Pop, Claud. I’ll be there in a minute, okay?’

  To his surprise, Claudia slipped her tiny hand into her grandfather’s.

  John turned to his wife. ‘Almost time to get the girls in too, Rosa. Can’t spend all afternoon chinwagging when there’s cows to milk.’

  ‘They’ll keep a few more minutes,’ said Rosa, putting a cup of tea into Angie’s hands and pushing a present towards Rob.

  Rob glanced at the framed family portrait on the sideboard as he unwrapped his gift. In the photograph, Rosa’s smile was extra wide, as if to compensate for her twin sons and reserved husband. Rob and Max had both been a head taller than Rosa by that stage, with a smattering of teenage acne and the bulge of braces behind closed lips. Rosa had bemoaned their grim expressions when she’d collected the enlargement from the photographer, even though she couldn’t have known it would be the last picture they’d all willingly pose for together. Rob wondered if Max was unwrapping a hand-knitted jumper at this very moment too, or if anyone had baked him a cake today. Not that I care, he thought.

  Rosa’s voice jerked Rob back to the present. ‘We hope you buy the cottage. We’d sure love to have you closer, wouldn’t we, John?’ Rosa said, calling out the door as John helped Claudia into a pair of old gumboots.

  Rob looked away. He didn’t need a visual of his father’s hesitation as well.

  ‘Be a good buy for the right person. A house isn’t like those motorbikes you’ve got cluttering up the hay shed, mind you, Rob. Can’t just stop and start as you please. It’ll be fine for someone who’s prepared to put in the hard yards.’

  ‘Unlike me, right?’ The words were out of Rob’s mouth in a flash.

  ‘Enough,’ commanded Rosa, heaping a huge slice of cake into a takeaway container and sliding it towards Angie. Not another word was shared between the two men, but a seed of determination sprouted as, through the window, Rob watched Claudia and his father walk to the calf sheds. I’ll show you, Dad. This might be the perfect opportunity to finally prove myself.

  Angie’s mind chopped and changed with every kilometre between the coast and Eden Creek.

  How can I even consider living so close to his parents? But how could we let that cottage slip through our fingers?

  Rob interjected occasionally, but she batted his questions right back at him, still miffed.

  ‘It’s quite the fixer-upper, isn’t it? Just a stone’s throw from the beach,’ said Rob.

  ‘And spitting distance from your parents. How long were you planning to wait until you delivered that bombshell?’

  Angie closed her eyes, picturing the wonky bullnose verandah, the pitched roof and the old bubbled glass. New verandah posts, fresh tin and double-glazed windows were an easier fix than the issues they’d face if they moved next door to the Joneses.

  ‘What would we do for work? You’ve only got one shift left until the mine scales back its operations.’

  ‘My retrenchment payout from the mine should cover the deposit and I’ve looked into renewing my building licence, working as a sole trader. You’ve talked about selling the beauty salon for ages, maybe now’s the time to put it on the market? If it sells, you could be home with Claud, like you wanted. There’s enough work at the cottage to keep you busy.’

  Angie huffed. Why does he have such good comebacks? ‘That cypress hedge would have to come out.’ She knew she was clutching at straws now.

  ‘Yeah, it blocks a fair bit of sunlight, although it is handy shelter against a howling south-easterly. But if that’s what it takes, I’ll sharpen my chainsaw tomorrow.’

  Her mind whirled. She thought of the brick path that led to the backyard, and her joy at discovering a mulberry tree in the middle of the overgrown lawn. It had dozens of gnarled branches forking off its wide trunk, with hundreds of white flowers adorning the smaller limbs, reminding her of childhood mulberry wars at McIntyre Park. It had been the stuff of dreams—and the stuff of parents’ nightmares when they’d arrived home covered in sticky purple mulberry juice.

  ‘And what will Claudia do while we’re busy building? I don’t want her to suffer if we embark on this crazy journey.’

  ‘She’ll be there with us, Ange, learning to count with boxes of screws and tubes of silicone. As well as fussing with dolls and Duplo blocks, she’ll be playing with set squares and hammering nails into timber offcuts. It’ll be good for her, I promise. And good for us.’

  Claudia’s soft snores filtered in from the back seat.

  Maybe a project like that was exactly what they needed to bring them together? They’d been like ships passing in the night for most of their relationship. Angie had worked throughout her pregnancy, and returned to running the Eden Creek Beauty Salon when Claudia was six months old, while Rob worked fly-in fly-out. It hadn’t been her dream scenario, but the salon and her clients had been the one constant throughout her adult life. Maybe this cottage could be a catalyst for change? A chance to turn us into a real family, one that pitches in to get the job done. A family like the one I grew up in.

  She reached across the gearstick and took Rob’s hand, ignoring the voice in her mind that questioned her sanity. ‘You know I’m not a builder, right?’

  Rob raised an eyebrow and waited. She could have sworn he was holding his breath.

  ‘If it wasn’t for the location, it’d be perfect. Let m
e think about it for a few days.’

  Three

  Rosa Jones sat the phone back down, mentally counting off the days since she’d last spoken to Rob. Two? Three? She pumped the bottle of Spray n’ Wipe forcefully and polished her benchtop until it shone.

  ‘Pass the phone book, John. I’ll try Angie’s number. She’s the one who needs convincing anyway. Rob looked ready to sign the papers there and then.’

  John looked up from the Port Fairview Gazette. ‘You’re wasting your time. Rob’s too busy for a chinwag, let alone a project like that cottage. Be a different story if Max was considering it.’ John tapped the newspaper back into perfect alignment, folded it neatly and walked across the kitchen. He leaned his chin on the top of Rosa’s head and wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his fresh outdoorsy scent.

  ‘Don’t start that.’ Rosa twisted in his arms and looked up at her husband of thirty-five years, resisting the urge to grab a pair of nail scissors and trim the wiry hairs protruding from his ears. ‘You could’ve sounded a bit more enthusiastic.’

  ‘Rob’s an adult. He doesn’t need me pumping up his tyres. You fawn over him enough for the both of us.’

  A flash of movement caught Rosa’s eye and she turned to see a white farm ute belting down Enderby Lane. Her heart jumped. For a second she let herself imagine it was their other son, Max, until the dust cleared and her heart reminded her both boys were too busy living their lives to visit regularly.

  She wandered to the fridge and picked up a postcard from a tropical island off the coast of Sumatra. ‘Wonder which continent Max’s in now?’

  ‘God knows.’ John stirred sugar into both their mugs.

  Rosa accepted the cup, letting the black tea burn her lips as penance for her failings as a mother. ‘I’m virtually a stranger to Claudia. As the child’s only grandmother, you’d think Angie would be a bit more interested in fostering a relationship … The craft girls were full of stories about their grandies last night, running themselves ragged with all the weekend babysitting,’ she said. She pressed her lips together to prevent a wistful tone from creeping in.

  ‘Not in my job description. I’ve done my fair share of raising children.’ John sat down with his tea and snapped the newspaper open again.

  And look how well that worked out, thought Rosa, her heart flooding with regret. She took another sip of scalding tea and smiled as a plan formed. Even though they didn’t know it, her boys still needed her help. And she sure as heck wasn’t going to miss her opportunity a second time.

  Red clouds of Western District dust floated behind Angie’s hatchback as she pulled into the McIntyre Park Merino Stud driveway. Angie had grown up with the Grampians on the horizon, but it wasn’t until after she moved out that she’d come to appreciate the majestic mountain range on visits home.

  The jolts as they crossed the corrugated cattle grid shook Claudia awake in the back seat. ‘Perfect timing, little pumpkin. We’re at Grandpa’s house,’ said Angie. A trio of kelpies raced towards them, and escorted the car the final hundred metres to the farmhouse.

  She parked between a battered Subaru Forrester and an immaculately clean white four-wheel drive. The condition of the vehicles perfectly reflected their drivers: her sisters Lara and Diana.

  The sheepdogs greeted Angie as she climbed out of the car and into the dappled sunshine. The family farm was only half an hour’s drive from Eden Creek, and Angie knew she’d miss McIntyre Park when they moved to Port Fairview.

  There would be many perks of living on the tail end of Victoria’s Great Ocean Road, with its beautiful beaches and mild weather, but the proximity to Rob’s family, and the extended distance from hers, put a slight damper on things.

  Claudia scrambled up the verandah steps as Angie pulled a salad and overnight bags from the back seat. The aroma of roast lamb tantalised her all the way across the gravel driveway, overpowering the fragrance of the thick lavender hedges. She swung the screen door open, slipped off Claudia’s boots one-handed, and then removed her own. Familiarity washed over her at the sight of her sisters sitting around the battered pine dining table.

  Angie threw her arms around her closest sister, inhaling the perfume Penny always wore. ‘Look at your tiny bump, Pen.’

  ‘I know, isn’t it great!’ Penny rested a hand on her softly rounded belly.

  ‘She makes pregnancy look effortless, the cow,’ groaned Lara. Not so long ago, an exchange like this between the two middle McIntyre sisters would have started World War Three. Thankfully, the rift between them had been mended not long after Penny returned to the farm, and insults had been replaced with gentle teasing.

  ‘Great to have you home, Angie. And, Penny, by the time you’ve had four like me, you’ll be popping out at the six-week mark. You’re only early days yet, still five long months to go,’ said Diana, taking the salad from Angie and pulling her into a warm hug.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ said Angie.

  ‘The boys are all out the back with Dad. Pete and Tim were supposed to be knocking off that rowdy rooster but they’ve been sidetracked.’ All four sisters glanced out the window. A red Aussie Rules football soared back and forth between Diana’s four sons, while Diana’s husband Pete leaned against a long-handled spade. He laughed with Penny’s husband Tim, their task evidently forgotten.

  ‘I think they were looking for an excuse to bail on the pregnancy talk. And Evie’s already commandeered Claudia as a customer for her nail salon on the deck,’ said Lara. ‘She’s hoping you’ll have a baby girl, Penny, to lift the female cousin ratio against Diana’s all-blue crew.’

  ‘And then you need to have another baby, Angie-bee—another girl—and we’ll almost have even numbers,’ said Penny.

  Angie held up her hands. ‘God, I’m not quite ready for that. I still haven’t lost the baby weight from Claudia,’ she said, pulling her T-shirt so it didn’t cling quite so tightly to her stomach. ‘But guess what surprise I do have?’ Angie smiled as her three curious sisters clustered in around her. ‘The beauty salon sold this week and the vendor accepted our offer on the Enderby Lane cottage.’

  Her sisters’ responses came all at once, tumbling on top of each other.

  ‘How fantastic! Congrats.’

  ‘I hope you didn’t get ripped off?’

  ‘Are you going to manage living so close to your in-laws?’

  Angie laughed. The questions reflected the personalities of each sister: sunny Penny, cautious Lara and their astute oldest sister, Diana.

  ‘Thanks, Penny. Who would’ve thought the salon would sell so quickly? And the cottage was a bargain. We went in low, preparing to haggle, but they accepted it off the bat.’

  ‘You know, there’s a lot of work involved in a project like this, Angie,’ said Lara, setting the table.

  ‘It’s not like the patchwork quilting classes you joined because I was doing them, and all those half-finished craft projects upstairs in our old bedroom. This is a huge commitment,’ said Diana.

  Angie huffed indignantly, recalling the comment Rob’s dad had made.

  ‘Of course I know that,’ she said, shredding a paper napkin into her lap. ‘You make me sound like a slacker.’

  ‘We didn’t mean it like that,’ said Lara. ‘It’s just that you’re a bit of a pushover. Are you sure this is what you both want, or is Rob leading the charge? And why the change of heart for him? Last I heard, all the tea in China wasn’t enough to make him visit his parents.’

  ‘He’s always been close to his mum. She has him on speed dial, I’m sure of it. Things with his dad have never been perfect, but John’s always busy with the dairy, so they won’t cross paths much. And of course I want to do it! Ten years in the beauty industry is enough for anyone.’ Angie pushed aside her worries about Rob and his father. No family’s perfect.

  Penny shot Lara and Diana a reproachful look. ‘Look at the way they managed a surprise pregnancy just months after they met. I’m sure they can manage a little house renovation,’ she
said. ‘Perfect bonding opportunity.’

  Angie gave Penny a grateful smile. ‘That’s exactly what I thought. Nothing like a bit of hammering and painting to get the romance going, right? And there’s a paddock between us and the Jones’s. It’s not like we’ll be in each other’s pockets.’

  Lara threw back her head and roared with laughter. ‘Are we talking about the same Rosa Jones? If it were me, I’d be getting a high-voltage electric fence installed. A leopard doesn’t change her spots.’

  ‘Maybe I overreacted last time. It was so long ago I can barely remember what all the fuss was about,’ lied Angie.

  Carolling magpies practised their morning chorus at McIntyre Park. Angus McIntyre brushed the crumbs from his work shirt and gestured to Angie with his glass of water. ‘Scones were delicious, love. Come home and bake any time you like.’

  Angie finished her scone and relaxed into her chair too. There was something extra special about early mornings on the farm with her dad, watching the sun sneak over the paddocks and bring out the blue in the mountain range.

  ‘Bit doughy. I think I’ve lost my knack. There’s always too much to do at home and now this renovation will probably take over our lives. Tell me I’m not crazy, Dad.’

  Angus’s tanned face crinkled into a smile as he slathered butter onto a third scone. ‘Bit late for cold feet now, isn’t it? Didn’t you already sign on the dotted line?’

  Angie nodded, annoyed with herself for letting yesterday’s friendly banter cast a shadow over her good news. She’d dreamed about the cottage last night: Claudia blanketed in afternoon sun, piecing together puzzles. Rob flipping bacon and eggs in the open-plan kitchen. The images were so clear in her mind, so affirming, that she’d been surprised to wake up in her old bedroom and find it had just been a dream.

  ‘There’s so much potential, so much room for us to grow, so many memories to be made there.’