Late yesterday, when I called Jock to let him know Blake’s parents were on their way, he invited me to share morning tea at his cottage this morning. As Blake’s plane won’t land in Dubbo until four, I said yes.
‘Primrose! Primrose!’
Since Jock told Thomasina and Lacie my full name, they’ve linked it to Daisy the lamb and Daffodil the duck and used the longer version. The girls barrel down the path and Daisy, a bright red ribbon around his neck, follows closely behind. I’ve given up suggesting he be rehomed because Jock loves him just as much as the girls—if he didn’t have injured birds to care for, and health and safety regulations to worry about, the lamb would spend his nights at the pub. As it is, he’s mostly confined to the back garden of the cottage.
When I walk through the gate, Daisy, his curling fleece brushed and snowy white, butts his head against my thigh. ‘Hello, Daisy. It’s good to see you too.’
Thomasina puts her arms around his neck. ‘Look at his ribbon!’
‘I have his worming medicine. How is Daffodil?’
‘Daddy said when she’s bigger, she can have babies but we need to have a boy duck first. Can you get us one, Primrose?’
Daffodil was supposed to be rehomed with another family of ducks, but after I asked Jock to take care of her overnight, he told me I had enough on my plate and refused to give her back.
‘Prim!’ Jock pulls his T-shirt over his tummy and tucks it into his trackpants. ‘Welcome!’
Daisy munches through a plate of vegetables at the girls’ tea party, and Daffodil, her new feathers starkly white against her orange feet and beak, eats from a tiny plate of seeds.
Jock and I sit at a table on the back verandah.
‘The girls said you’re looking for a drake. It might be easier for Daffodil to have a one-night stand.’
‘What?’
‘To hook up.’
‘Good thinking.’ He pours the tea with a flourish. ‘You won’t be surprised to know that Blake asked after you when I called him last night.’
I blow across the steam rising up from my cup. ‘Why wouldn’t I be surprised?’
He laughs. ‘Because, much as he professes to enjoy my food, he always looks for you before perusing the menu.’
A sip of tea. ‘Did you let him know his parents are here?’
‘Certainly not. I called on the pretext of a magpie with a broken wing. And then I requested his flight details. His parents were anxious to know when to expect him.’
‘Even though they couldn’t risk asking him that themselves.’
‘Folk at home would be impressed with the quality of my recent clientele. Quite a coincidence, when you think of it, having not only Cameron Sinclair’s grandson in Ballimore, but his son and daughter-in-law as well.’
‘It is.’
‘Cameron was as poor as a church mouse, but a descendant of the Earl of Caithness. Angus and I had quite a chat last night.’ After checking that Thomasina and Lacie are out of earshot, he taps his forehead and winces. ‘We might’ve shared a whiskey or three.’
‘Angus talked about his father?’
‘I did most the talking, filled in quite a few gaps, I suspect.’ He sits back in his chair. ‘Angus and I are much the same age, and Cameron was at school with my father. Blake’s grandfather was extremely bright, but men were scarce in the post-war years. At thirteen, my father was pulled out of school to work in the cellars. Cameron was even younger when he was sent into the fields.’
‘Angus’s life has been different.’
Jock turns the cup in the saucer. ‘What did you think of Blake’s mother?’
‘At first, I found her intimidating, but then …’ I sip my tea. ‘She’s unhappy. I felt sorry for her.’
‘And Sinclair senior?’
‘He’s hard to read.’
‘It might’ve been the whiskey talking, but he hinted not only at regrets, but changes afoot. I presume that’s why they’re here.’
‘Angus was genuinely concerned for Virginia. I liked that about him.’ I finish my tea. ‘Should … we tell Blake his parents are here? I don’t like keeping it from him.’
Jock ponders the question. Then, ‘Blake needs time with his kin. Leave well enough alone.’
Blake should spend time with his parents, but in the same way I hate surprise parties, he’d hate their unexpected arrival. I’m only halfway home when I see the truth of that. I have to go to the Coach House and tell him.
I’m at the cottage only long enough to unpack my supplies and settle Darcy and Harry on a new patch of ground before I climb back into my car. Blake won’t arrive at the Coach House until after four-thirty, but I’ll wait for him there. I’ll warn him in person. At the end of the driveway, I indicate right.
A four-wheel drive coming towards me flashes its lights then indicates left.
When the lights flash again, I reverse, parking in front of the house. Blake parks in front of me, blocking my way. Then he gets out of the car, slamming the door.
‘What the fuck?’
I check my watch. Two-thirty. ‘Did you get an early flight?’
‘My parents. Why didn’t you warn me?’
‘Have you … seen them?’
‘My father called.’
‘I … was on my … way to tell you.’
‘You were too late!’
‘They … wanted to … say goodbye.’
‘I said goodbye in Sydney.’
‘Your mother … was upset. I thought—’
‘You told them about the cufflinks.’
‘It … w …. w …’ My fingernails dig into my palms. ‘They asked questions. A lot of questions.’
‘You shouldn’t have answered them.’
‘I felt … s … s….’ Darcy has a long piece of grass sticking out of the side of his mouth. I focus on that. ‘I felt … sorry for your mother.’
Hands deep in his pockets, Blake walks away and stares through the pines to the road.
When he turns, our eyes lock. I take a step back.
He holds out a hand, drops it. ‘Don’t, Prim.’
‘What?’
‘Look at me like that.’
I shake my head. ‘I’ve hurt you.’
He comes closer. Reels in his emotions. ‘I got a second call. Nathan Gillespie. He said you had something to tell him.’
‘It … wasn’t important.’
‘He thought it might’ve been. What did you want to say?’
‘Do you want to pass it on?’ I lift my chin. ‘I don’t need people to talk for … me.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’ His eyes narrow. ‘And I’m not “people”.’
‘Nate has his own agenda. For all I know … so do you.’
Jaw tight, he backs away. And then, after freeing Harry’s chain from the blackberry bushes, he closes the distance between us again. He crosses his arms.
‘My agenda is me and you.’
A cacophony of thoughts tumble through my mind. He’s protective and principled. He’s also measured and careful.
Careful enough for me?
My heart hurts. I blink back tears, step over the chain, hold out my hand and take his. ‘I don’t know … what to … say.’
He squeezes my hand. ‘Look at me, Prim.’
I do as he asks. ‘W … what?’
‘We have to tell the truth.’
I’m in love with you. Will that do?
He lifts my hand and brushes his lips against it. ‘I missed you every fucking day. That should have been the first thing I said.’
‘Your parents.’ I step closer, lean against him. ‘They’ve come all this … way to … see you. You have to … spend time with them.’
His hands slip up my arms to my shoulders. He searches my face.
‘Join us for dinner tonight.’
‘They’re here for you.’
‘Angus told me he and Virginia liked you. He stressed that.’
‘They might make assumptions.’
‘About us? Why can’t they?’
‘Your mother. You have to talk to her, just the two of you. I think she needs that.’ I put my hands on his chest. ‘Please.’
He mutters curses. He cups my face and strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. Dipping his head, he kisses my mouth. The tips of our tongues touch sweetly, but then he pulls back.
It’s after ten and I’m half asleep when Blake’s text comes through.
I’ll take Virginia and Angus out tomorrow. Back mid-afternoon.