Later that day Olivia drove out to meet up with Ollie, delivering afternoon smoko to him in the paddock.
‘Thank God Mum’s back home,’ Olivia said dryly as she handed over the esky of goodies.
‘I thought I was going to waste away while she was gone.’
‘Oh please. I baked.’
‘And I appreciated it, but it’s not Mum’s cooking.’
It was hard to take offence because it was true. When was the magic supposed to kick in with cooking? When were the scones she cooked—following the instructions precisely—supposed to go from okay to amazing?
‘So what’s going on with you?’ Ollie said after he’d downed the lemonade in one long chug, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm as he eyed her seriously.
‘Come on, Liv. Something’s going on. You haven’t been yourself. Are you and Griff having trouble?’
‘We’re fine.’
‘I don’t think you are.’
‘I’m just busy … In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a bit going on around here.’
‘Yeah, but it’s more than that. You don’t laugh any more.’
‘That’s ridiculous. Only this morning I laughed when you put salt in your coffee instead of sugar,’ she pointed out.
‘It doesn’t count when it’s laughing at me. Seriously, Liv. Something’s going on with you.’
‘Nothing’s going on, I’m just tired. Once we get things up and running around here, everything will be fine.’
‘If it’s making you miserable, then maybe it’s not worth it.’
‘Have you seen the progress Dad’s been making lately? Trust me, I don’t care how tiring it is, it’s worth it.’
She could tell by the look on her brother’s face that he wasn’t satisfied, but she truly didn’t have the energy to argue about it. ‘I’ve got to get back.’
‘If you want to talk about it …’ Ollie tried one last time as she headed back to the ute.
She lifted a hand and waved without turning. There was nothing to talk about. She was committed to seeing the project through. In all honesty, she’d forgotten about the London job … well, until something reminded her about it and she allowed herself a brief moment of regret before pushing it from her mind once more. She was actually enjoying the whole process of renovation and designing educational programs. No one day was ever the same and she liked the variety of that. It was just that she was spread so thin nowadays. Every time she turned around someone was calling her name. Olivia, we need to do this … Olivia, can you get on to such and such and sort out this problem … Olivia, I need you to find out something … It never stopped. And it wasn’t as though she actually knew what she was doing. She was learning as she went, and that alone was stressful.
Griffin did his best to help—he was happy enough to take on anything she asked his help with—but he had his own place to run and his own stresses running a business. She knew she was letting him down when it came to their relationship. She was just so damn tired. He wanted to talk about their future and start making plans, but she could never summon up the energy and always tried to change the subject. It was only a matter of time before he was over it.
The familiar sick feeling filled her once more. She loved Griffin, but she couldn’t commit to their future right now and she knew that hurt him. It would be all right, she told herself firmly. Once the paddock-to-plate business was off the ground, everything would settle down. If she told herself that often enough, it would happen. At least she hoped so.
‘What are you looking for?’ Griffin asked as he watched Olivia checking under the bed and turning the room upside down.
‘Have you seen my good pair of jeans?’
‘I thought they must be here, since I couldn’t find them at home.’
He eyed her from where he was sitting on the side of the bed pulling on his socks. ‘You know, it would be a lot easier if you just moved in.’ They’d been having this conversation for the last few months.
She turned away, digging through the clothes basket. ‘You know why I can’t.’
‘Because your parents need you,’ he parroted. It had kind of made sense at first. But her parents had been home a while now and, from what he could tell, Bill seemed to have settled back in just fine. Her continued reluctance to move in with him was starting to ring alarm bells.
‘There’s too much going on at the moment,’ she said wearily.
‘When is there never too much going on?’ he argued.
He saw her eyes close briefly and felt a stab of guilt as he realised her eyes were red. She’d been crying. ‘Hey. Come here,’ he said, his voice gentle as he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head irritably. ‘I’m fine. It’s just a touch of hay fever.’
Yeah, right.
‘I know we need to sort things out, and we will,’ she stressed, ‘but there’s so much more work involved at home than I was expecting. On top of all the paperwork and renovations, I have to bring Dad up to speed so he can run the program … I need to be there right now.’
‘I just don’t get how it’s that big of a deal living here instead of there. It’s not like you’d be a thousand miles away.’
‘It’s easier, that’s all,’ she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. ‘I know it’s a pain.’ She finally turned to face him. ‘It won’t be forever.’
He watched her disappear through the doorway after kissing him goodbye and tried to ignore the disappointment that settled heavily in his stomach. She was under a lot of strain right now. He was just going to have to be patient.
It shouldn’t be hard for him—he was a farmer, after all, and patience was pretty much the main job criteria. But he was more than ready for them to move on with their own life and it was frustrating to have her so close and yet still so distant. He didn’t want these bloody sleepovers—he wanted her here permanently. He wanted to make this their home.
Griff looked around the room and shook his head. It looked like a cyclone had been through the place—Cyclone Olivia. He gave a small chuckle as he picked up an armload of clothing from the bedroom floor and dumped it on the bed. No wonder she could never find anything. He would be the last person to point out anyone else’s housekeeping deficiencies, and in truth you’d never know Olivia lived here part-time by looking around the rest of the house. She never left her stuff lying about on the table or out in the lounge, but the bedroom was apparently a whole other set of rules. In here, despite the fact he’d cleaned out half his wardrobe for her and most of his drawers, she still hadn’t got around to actually unpacking the suitcase she’d brought over before her parents had even returned.
Maybe if he started putting a few things away, she’d get the hint. It couldn’t hurt. He picked up the pile of clean T-shirts he’d just relocated from the floor and placed them in the top drawer. He tugged a pair of jeans from the bottom of the pile—most likely the ones she’d been searching for—and saw a piece of paper fall. Thinking it might be something of his, Griff picked it up and unfolded it.
VISA APPLICATION APPROVED. The words jumped off the page at him. He frowned and felt a rush of foreboding.
She’d been in the process of obtaining an overseas visa in order to work in the UK. It had to have been submitted before her parents came home, but the date on the letter showed it had only recently been approved. That would explain why she looked as though she’d been crying earlier. She still wanted to go.
He sank onto the bed and stared at the paperwork in his hand, a gaping void opening in the pit of his stomach. She was miserable, he knew it. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she couldn’t hide it from him. He knew her too well. She’d given up her chance to go overseas for everyone else and it was slowly but surely killing the spark inside her.