Remy’s mother called Monday morning while Seth and Remy were at the bank. Remy had to cut Lexie off with a promise to call back.
They ate a quick lunch at the cottage before he left to collect the rest of his things from the Oakbank Pub and settle his room bill. From there, he’d go to Montgomery Wines for more meetings and then, to the airport.
‘I gotta go, Rem, or I’ll never get on the plane,’ he said, holding her tight, pressing his body to hers. ‘But I’ll be thinking the entire time of the day I get back.’
She wanted to tell him she missed him already. She wanted to tell him she loved him. Instead she kissed him until both of them were reeling.
‘I’ll call you when I get to Perth. It’s a three-hour drive south. I’ll need you to keep me company at least some of the way.’
‘Drive safe,’ she said, catching his bottom lip and sucking it between hers.
‘Oh, bugger the plane. How ’bout we sit you up here like this for a minute,’ and he lifted her onto the kitchen bench.
***
When Remy rang her mother, Lexie answered the phone super-fast. That wasn’t like her. She was a bit of a bumble when it came to new technology and she was still getting the hang of her first mobile phone.
‘Hi, love,’ her mother said. She sounded like she’d been running.
‘Hi to you, too. What’s happening? Where are you?’
‘We’re in Cairns. We’ve been up to Port Douglas today. It’s so beautiful up here.’
‘I’m glad you’re taking your time. It’s a big country, there’s no need to rush around it.’
‘We’ve been in Airlie Beach and the Whitsundays for a while and we hadn’t been catching much news, but then in Cairns this morning we had a lazy coffee and Bernie saw this article in the weekend paper about you and Seth Lasrey. I almost had a heart attack. What’s that all about?’
‘Don’t stress out, Mum. Seth and I are seeing each other.’
‘What do you mean: seeing each other?’
‘Well, you remember that I told you Max and Sue sold Montgomery Wines?’
‘Yes. That was ages ago.’
‘Well, the company that bought Montgomery was Lasrey Estate.’
‘Yowza,’ Lexie breathed.
‘That’s kind of what I said. So, long story short, Seth has been in South Australia for the last month, and we’ve kind of got friendly all over again.’
‘Are you sure, love? Everything went so bad so fast last time. I don’t ever want to see you in that kind of pain again. His mother’s not in Adelaide too, is she? Please tell me she’s not.’
‘I haven’t seen Ailsa. She’s still in the West.’
She felt Lexie’s sigh of relief all the way from Cairns.
‘What about that Rina woman?’
Remy groaned. ‘No such luck.’
‘What makes you think this time around is going to be any different? He’s still a Lasrey. You’re still a Roberts. The two of you really don’t meet in the middle.’
‘You said when I was little that I could be anything I wanted to be when I grew up. You said I was as good as anyone.’
‘What about that French woman last time? The wine heiress? You were a wreck when you thought the two of them were engaged.’
‘Yes, but that was a false alarm and I’m older and wiser now. I can look after myself, Mum.’
‘I know you can, love. Sometimes I wish I’d been able to do more for you when you were young. I should have left your father a long time ago. Bernie’s shown me that. I didn’t have to put up with your dad all those years and struggle on like we did.’
‘You did the best that you could. You took your marriage vows seriously. You meant it when you said the bit about as long as you both shall live.’ It surprised Remy to find she was getting teary. She and Lexie didn’t open up about their emotions much. ‘Oh, look, Mum. Enough of the soppy stuff. Tell me, has Bernie bought you the ring?’
‘He said he wants to get it in Darwin. Don’t ask me why.’
Remy had been about to ask why Darwin, so she changed tack. ‘Mum, Seth was looking through some of your old photo albums yesterday. He showed me a photo of you at Trickle Beach with a group. He said his dad was in the photo. Joe.’
‘That picture’s ancient, Rem. That was before Joe and Ailsa got married.’
‘You two looked pretty friendly,’ Remy pressed.
‘I don’t know about friendly, Ailsa and Joe were engaged, and her parents were all set to buy the land where they planted vines. It was a wedding present.’
‘So you and Seth’s dad, never … you know.’
‘Remy, it was 1968. It might have been the swinging sixties but I was never much of a bed-hopping hippie.’
‘Not even a sneaky kiss?’
Lexie hesitated too long. ‘Maybe a few sneaky kisses, but that was it.’
‘Did you ever regret not … pursuing things with Joe Lasrey?’
‘A little. I won’t lie. I let Ailsa and all her money scare me off too easily, but I thought I was doing the right thing. You can’t take back the past, Rem. You can’t change it. If I’d never met your father, I would never have had you. You were always the best thing about my marriage to Wayne.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘Anytime, love. You know that. I did always wish I’d done a bit more than kiss Joe. He was pretty dishy back then.’
‘I hope Bernie’s not listening.’
‘Even if he was listening, he’d be fine. Everybody has a past. He and I are old enough to know that.’
‘He’s a keeper, is Bernie,’ Remy said.
‘I hope Seth is a keeper too, Rem. I really hope so. Be careful, love.’
‘I will. Thanks, Mum. Stay safe. Whatever you do, don’t follow any sign to a place called Wolf Creek.’
***
It was while she was getting dinner ready later that Remy got her first inkling of just how much she’d kissed her anonymity goodbye when she kissed Seth hello.
She was slicing chicken for a stir-fry, listening to the six o’clock news on the TV in the next room. When she heard her name in a promo for Today Tonight, she almost chopped her thumb into the pot along with the meat.
Tonight our own Jennie Grey brings you the story of an inspirational love that has lasted five years, travelled two states, and could have almost wrecked the relationship of two brothers … It’s the story of an Adelaide Hills grapegrower and her wine tycoon boss, and an Aussie surfing superstar … and it’s coming up on Today Tonight straight after the news …
The voiceover cut away as Remy rushed around her galley bench to see what was happening on screen. It was a picture of Blake at the beach, clutching his surfboard under his arm. He laughed and the camera zoomed in on him as he said: ‘Yeah, nah … my brother totally stole Remy from me.’
Remy slumped to the arm of the brown couch.
‘Hell and Tommy.’ Why would Blake say that?
***
Seth spent most of his first five minutes in Perth adjusting to the light. No matter where he travelled in Australia, Perth was always brighter. Adelaide, for all its status as the wine capital of the country, still had a big country town feel about it. Perth and Adelaide used to be on par before the mining boom. Now, millions, no billions of dollars in development had flooded into the WA capital and it was a whole lot faster, bigger and noisier than Adelaide.
There were two messages on his phone. One from Blake. One from Remy. They’d both have to wait.
He caught a taxi to Blake’s flat and used his key to get his car out of the garage. With a two-and-a-half hour time difference between Adelaide and Perth he hadn’t lost much with the flight. In South Australia, Remy would have had dinner and she’d be in front of the television or with a book about now. Here, it was still peak hour and most of the city had only just knocked off work.
His car started like clockwork, even though it had been sitting in Blake’s garage for six weeks. Seth was looking forward to blowing out the cobwebs on the drive south to Margaret River, but first he had a twenty-minute drive to Ailsa’s place in Fremantle.
Her hand flicked the blinds as he parked in her driveway and she opened the door before he knocked, welcoming him in. He bent low to kiss her papery cheek.
Ailsa’s home was a modern courtyard-style building, built one street back from the Esplanade in the old part of town. It smelled of tea-tree oil furniture polish and perfume. Most of the hanging space on the walls was covered with paintings: still-life fruit, portraits and landscapes. Ailsa spent most of her time in the city these days and was patron of several art galleries.
The sofas were white and overstuffed, the furniture plush, the timber polished and the whole place gleamed like over-bleached teeth. An open Country Life magazine lay across an ottoman that matched the chairs.
‘Come and make yourself comfortable. I’m having a brandy. Would you like something, dear?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Suit yourself. Won’t you at least sit down?’
‘I’ve been sitting for the last three and a half hours on the plane. Standing’s fine.’
He needed more than brandy to get comfortable in this place. It was everything Remy’s cottage was not. He couldn’t wait to leave. First, he had a few things to get off his chest.
Ailsa wore pale blue pants and a matching jacket, navy sandals with low heels. Her face was, as always, heavily made-up and her grey hair, nearly white now, salon-perfect. She poured a generous shot in a brandy balloon and added ice.
‘So,’ she pouted theatrically. ‘Judging by the way you hung up on me last time we spoke, I don’t suppose you came to tell me you dumped her?’
‘No.’
‘Just like your father,’ Ailsa contemplated the ice in her drink. ‘Loyal to a fault.’
‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’
‘You spent a weekend with her five years ago and she ruined you for anyone else. When I think of poor Helene coming out here and what you put her through …’ Ailsa trailed off.
Seth did feel bad about Helene. The French woman got caught in his rebound. He’d been so angry about what Remy had done—what his mother said she’d done—he’d had no emotional space for Helene in his life at that time. All he’d had was work. The angrier he got, the more he stayed away because it wasn’t Helene he most wanted to see when he came home. He and Helene never had a chance.
Remy said he’d got hard over the years. He’d definitely been hard on Helene. She’d wanted to love him and he pushed her away.
He rubbed the short hair of his scalp. His hair felt aeroplane-itchy and he wanted a shower. ‘Helene and I parted friends in the end and she’s happy now. She’s married. They have a baby on the way. You should send her parents a card and congratulate them.’
‘I already did,’ Ailsa said, taking a sip of her drink. ‘That should be you, you know. We could be Lasrey-Bouchard now, if it wasn’t for that gold-digging tramp.’
‘Be very careful, Mother,’ Seth warned. ‘I told you that before. One more slur like that I’m out of here, and I won’t be back. Not once has Remy ever done anything that made me think she was after my money.’
‘Apart from blackmailing $100 000 out of us, you mean.’
‘That blackmail line is bullshit and you know it.’ Remy’s cheque was in Seth’s wallet and he took it out. ‘Here.’
‘What’s this?’
He crossed the room and gave the cheque to her. Had to stop himself throwing it at her. ‘Remy says she always thought of it as a loan.’
‘A loan.’ Ailsa took a beat to examine it. Then she put her glasses on and inspected it again. Then she laughed. The sound was all raw around the edges, no warmth.
‘Well how about that,’ she said, more to herself than to him. ‘How much of this is yours?’
‘None bar an advance on this season’s grape cheque. She’d been saving to give it back to you.’
‘Well, that’s not something you see every day.’ She folded the cheque in the gutter of the Country Life magazine, took a sip of her drink and said nothing.
‘Tell me what really happened between you and Remy five years ago, Mother.’
‘Darling, that story’s old. I’ve explained it to you so many times.’
‘Well, give it to me once more, for the hell of it.’
His mother’s mouth closed into a stubborn red scratch. ‘What does she say happened?’
‘I’m asking you.’
Outside, a horn blared as a driver took issue with another at the traffic lights. Seth wished it was as easy to let off steam around his mother. Conversations with Ailsa were a bit like trying to drive the wrong way down a one-way street: something was always going to hit you.
‘I told you. She admitted to not paying enough attention to her work. She offered her resignation and I accepted it. It was only afterward that she tried the sexual harassment blackmail idea on for size.’
‘What did she tell you I did that qualified as sexual harassment?’
Ailsa looked out the window, took her time about bringing her gaze back. ‘She said you kissed her …’
‘I didn’t kiss her, so she didn’t say that.’
‘Well, what did you do?’
‘That’s not your business, Mother. That’s not what this is about. Remy says she never made any blackmail threat at all. She says you paid her to resign and stay away from me and from Blake.’
‘That’s absurd.’
‘Or you’re lying.’
‘How can you say that to me, Seth?’ She clanked her glass on the coffee table. Her fingers curved around the arm of her chair like claws.
‘Why didn’t you tell me Dad knew Remy’s mother?’
‘She told you that?’
‘I found a photograph in an album. It was one of Lexie’s. Rem didn’t know who the bloke was, but it was Dad. I’m sure.’
‘Joseph loved her,’ she said, so softly he wasn’t sure she’d said anything at all. ‘We were engaged when Lexie came to Margaret River, but we hadn’t got married yet. He was going to break it off with me. My parents had already picked out the land they were going to buy us for the vineyard. If your dad left me, he wouldn’t have got anything. He’d never have had the chance to set up his own winery.’
‘So he chose you? Not Lexie?’
She shook her head at him without really seeing him. ‘I went to see Lexie after her shift finished one day—she was working at the hospital. I asked her if she really wanted to see Joseph rot in a dead-end teaching job if he married her, never doing what he loved because they would never have been able to afford it. I asked if she was prepared for him to end up resenting the ground she walked on when I could give him everything he’d ever dreamed of. I told her if she loved Joseph, she’d see what choice was best for him. She’d let him go.’
‘And she did?’
‘She did. The problem was, Joseph wanted the vineyard every bit as much as he wanted Lexie, and she didn’t fight for him. She didn’t have as much fight in her as her daughter did, that’s for sure.’
‘As her daughter does,’ Seth corrected, trying to imagine how Remy had felt facing off against his mother in the boardroom years ago. She was a formidable woman and Remy had been just a girl. A very scared girl with a big debt hanging over her head who thought she’d killed a vineyard and was about to lose her job.
Ailsa sighed, but she was committed to her story now and the brandy had warmed her up. ‘Joseph went on a binge a few years later when Wayne and Lexie got engaged. He almost left us then. I threatened him with everything: losing you boys, losing the winery. He loved you kids, of course. He just never loved me.’
Seth looked at his mother and tried to conjure feelings of warmth. It was damn hard.
He could only ever remember his father looking at her with the type of resigned tolerance thirty-odd years of marriage to a woman like Ailsa must bring. He wondered if Joe ever looked at Ailsa the way he looked at Remy now? He doubted it. But they must have been happy enough? They had two sons, the business, each other. ‘Dad wouldn’t have stayed with you all those years if he didn’t want to be there.’
‘Yes he would, if it got him his vineyard.’ Her eyes turned flat and hard. ‘Do you know that he had affairs? The first one was with the bit of fluff we had managing cellar door. She’s the reason I pushed so hard to get that workplace policy in place.’
‘This is all in the past, and Dad’s not here to defend himself. If it’s true, I’m sorry he hurt you that way.’
‘What do you mean if it’s true, Seth? Of course it’s true.’
‘You’ve told so many lies I don’t think you know the truth.’
‘Anything I’ve ever done, I’ve done because I love you. You and Blake. All I ever did is try to look out for you. Rina does that too.’
‘What’s Rina got to do with it?’
‘Rina understands where the company is vulnerable. She helps me watch out for it.’
Riddles. ‘We don’t need looking out for. We never did. I’ve lived and breathed Lasrey since I left school. It’s all I’ve ever done, and it’s made you a nice retirement income. Better than nice. Maybe now it’s time to give some of it back.’
The comment shocked her so much, her feet slid off the ottoman. ‘Give what back? Give it to whom?’
‘Give back to the community. We can afford to bump up our sponsorship programs. We can do more than just increase the amount of vineyard assets we hold.’
Ailsa picked up the copy of Country Life and thumbed the cheque inside it. There was a set to her chin that he recognised well.
Seth strode to the open window and took a deep breath of air infused with salt and sea, so much nicer than Ailsa’s stuffy sitting room. Behind him, Ailsa said: ‘A journalist rang me asking about you and that girl. She knew Remy worked for us once. She knew about the vineyard incident.’
‘I know. I was with Remy when they did the story.’ He turned back into the room to meet his mother’s eyes. There was a smugness about her expression that triggered his next thought. ‘You tipped the press.’
‘No darling,’ Ailsa smiled.
‘Then who?’
‘Rina.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘Rina does whatever I ask. She always has.’
Seth searched for any sign of a lie on Ailsa’s face, but couldn’t see it. His mother was certain of Rina’s support. Sure of it.
‘You asked Rina to go to the media?’ Seth demanded. ‘Why?’
‘They were digging for dirt on you and Remy. They would have found out the gory details eventually—or plain made it up. Rina told them the truth.’
‘All media commentary comes through the CEO’s office, Mother. You know that. It’s part of our board policy.’
‘Darling, you’re right. I forgot. Think of it as an oversight.’
‘Oversight?’ Seth gave up trying to find any semblance of warmth for his mother. He had none, and he hadn’t had any for a very long time. ‘Has it ever crossed your mind that it might be nice to have a couple of grandkids running around this place? Little people who might carry on the Lasrey name?’
Ailsa sprang forward. ‘Oh, dear God. Please tell me you haven’t got her pregnant already!’
Christ. ‘She’s not pregnant.’
‘That’s alright then.’ She settled again. ‘That would be just like her. That’s how they trap men like you. First the baby. Then the ring. Then half the house.’
Seth was at Ailsa’s feet in a flash, snapping up the Country Life, extracting Remy’s cheque.
‘What are you doing?’ Ailsa stammered. ‘Don’t!’
Seth tore the cheque in half in front of her eyes. ‘You never thought you’d see that money again, Mother, so you won’t ever miss it. I know someone who can use it and who needs it, far more than you ever did.’
He ripped again, then a third and fourth time, and dropped the fluttering pieces on the floor. Not putting past Ailsa to somehow cobble the pieces with tape or glue, he kept a couple segments in his fingers.
‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Ailsa said.
‘You say all the decisions you made were for me and Blake; well, that’s bullshit. Everything you’ve done, you’ve done for yourself.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ Ailsa called as he left the room. ‘I never—’
Seth let himself out of the apartment.
***
Seth started the car, pulled into traffic and felt better with every revolution those tyres made on the road.
Years ago he’d told Ailsa that no man ever went to his grave wishing he’d spent another hour at work. Life was too short to put up with his mother’s crap.
He rang Remy as he drove south. With the phone on hands-free, he replayed the conversation with Ailsa for her benefit while sunset crept over the dunes separating the freeway from the coast. He edited the nastiest parts but even so, Remy’s snorts, sighs, and sounds of disbelief said it all.
‘No wonder she wanted me gone,’ Remy said when Seth told her about Joe loving Lexie. ‘Every time she looked at me, any time she saw my name on the staff board or in the files, she would have been reminded of my mother. When I stuffed up the vineyard spray that day I gave her the excuse she needed.’
‘I’m so through with that woman,’ Seth said. ‘Tomorrow I’ll call our lawyers and see what I need to do to restructure the company without Ailsa in it. There’s Rina too. She’s in this up to her neck.’
‘It’s sad, Seth. That’s all I feel.’
‘Yeah.’ He pictured Ailsa’s face as he’d dropped the pieces of torn-up cheque on her carpet. She hadn’t been sad. She’d been livid. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’
‘Okay, well … have you seen the news today?’ Remy asked. ‘Jennie Grey’s story was on television here tonight.’
‘I didn’t see it. I’ve been in the air and then with Mother. What happened?’
‘It was a good story, really. The promo spun me out a bit though. They were talking about how ours was a love story involving two brothers, and then the microphone cut to Blake on the beach and he said: “Yeah, my brother totally stole her from me.”’
‘Shit,’ Seth groaned. ‘I’ll shove Blake’s surfboard down his throat.’
‘Well, what you don’t see until the story runs in full is that Blake actually says: “Yeah, my brother totally stole her from me” … and then he laughs like it’s a huge joke and says: “nah, not really. Remy and I were only ever good friends. I saw her first though. I’m not ever gonna let him forget that.”’
‘I still think I might kill him,’ Seth muttered.
‘The last thing he told them was that he’d always thought you and I would be great for each other,’ Remy teased.
‘Okay. I’ll let him live.’
They talked about the week ahead. Remy had plans to hire a bobcat to level the backyard so she could make a start on laying pavers. Occhy’s rent money had gone toward the load of paving sand she’d need, and the bobcat.
‘Why don’t you wait till I get back? I can help.’
‘Can you drive a bobcat?’
‘Not really, but I can push a wheelbarrow and I can level sand.’
‘Well I can drive a bobcat. Zac knows a guy who can get me a bobcat for a few hours on the cheap. If it pans out, I’ll have the job done by the time you get back.’
‘Sounds good.’ He checked the clock on the dashboard. They’d been talking for a solid hour and the time flew. He’d have to hang up soon though, his battery was running low.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I meant to tell you and I’ve kept forgetting: I found out why Breeze is being such a bitch to Occhy.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s in heat.’
Seth couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he could picture how Remy had probably blushed. ‘What does that entail, exactly?’
‘It entails a bloody big pain in the arse. It means I have to keep her and Occhy separate for up to a fortnight if we don’t want little American Staffies in a couple of months. I’ve never been through it when I’ve had another dog on the property.’
‘And we don’t want little American Staffies?’ He added the question mark, just in case she had her heart set on puppies.
‘We don’t,’ Remy said super-firmly. ‘I’m too young to be a grandma.’
‘Well, I’m probably old enough to be a granddad, but whatever you want to do is fine by me.’
‘So, I’ll have to chain Occhy up outside the gate. I don’t have any other way to keep them separate. But I don’t like the idea of keeping him on the chain.’
‘Chain him up at night maybe, but leave him off in the day. He won’t go anywhere if there’s a bitch in heat right under his nose. Poor horny old dog.’
They talked some more then said goodnight. Seth drove with the moon outside his passenger window, full and milky in the sky. He followed it through Bunbury and Busselton and it was high by the time he drove up the gravel driveway into the log cabin that, other than Remy’s cottage, was the only other place he’d ever thought of as home.