A VERY HAPPY Abby was striding along her front path towards the gate when Harriet, her elderly neighbour, suddenly popped her head up over the hedge which separated their two houses.
‘Hello, dear,’ she said. ‘My, but don’t you look extra nice today. Going somewhere special?’ Her curious eyes zoomed from Abby to Jake to the Ferrari then back to Abby again.
Abby suppressed a sigh as she reluctantly ground to a halt and turned towards her neighbour. ‘Just going car shopping,’ she replied truthfully. ‘Got a windfall from a long-lost uncle. My friend here’s going to help me find the right one,’ she said, casting a rueful glance over her shoulder at Jake. ‘He’s a car nut, as you can see. Can’t stop and chat,’ she hurried on, not wanting to have to get into awkward introductions.
‘We’re already running late,’ she added, and headed for the Ferrari. ‘Bye.’
‘Drop in for a cuppa tomorrow,’ Harriet called after her.
‘Will do,’ she called back.
Jake didn’t say a word as he swiftly opened the passenger door for her. Neither did he help her, despite it not being the easiest car to get into. But Abby had always been an agile sort of girl, with long slender legs and sure hands, so by the time Jake closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side she was all buckled up and ready to go, her new handbag settled in her lap.
‘A car nut, am I?’ Jake said wryly after he climbed in and gunned the engine.
Abby shrugged. ‘I had to say something.’
‘Will you really go in for a cuppa tomorrow?’ he asked as he accelerated away.
‘Probably,’ Abby admitted. ‘Harriet was very good to me when Wayne died. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. I just didn’t want to have to introduce you.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, mostly because I don’t want her to find out that you’re the businessman I clean house for. She’d immediately think that there was something going on between us and, before I knew it, the whole street would think the same thing, which would be very embarrassing. Gosh, but this car is amazing,’ she rattled on, happy to change the subject from their hypothetical affair. ‘It must have cost you a small fortune.’
‘There are more expensive cars but it wasn’t cheap. I only drive it at weekends and when I’m on holiday.’
‘It’s not a convertible though, is it?’
‘Actually, it is. The top retracts.’
‘That’s incredible!’
He said nothing for a few seconds, though he did glance over at her with a bit of a frown. But then he smiled a strange little smile as though he was secretly amused about something.
‘I’ll show you, if you like,’ he said.
His offer startled her. ‘Oh, no. No, please don’t. Not today. My hair will get all messed up and it took me ages to do it.’
‘Fair enough. Some other time then.’ And he smiled another strange smile.
Abby could not envisage there would ever be such a time, which was a shame really. It would be wonderful whizzing along an open country road on a fine summer’s day with the top down and her hair blowing in the breeze. Even better if she were driving.
She almost laughed. Imagine her driving a Ferrari. She wasn’t a Ferrari kind of girl.
Jake was right. The cemetery wasn’t far away but it was a depressing place. Abby didn’t like the long rows of gravestones.
She hadn’t buried Wayne. He’d been cremated with his ashes sprinkled in the ocean at his favourite fishing spot. Which was ironic given it was the sea which had killed him. But it was what he had once told her he wanted, if anything ever happened to him. Perhaps, however, he’d imagined being killed in a car accident, not what had actually happened.
‘This way,’ Jake said after they both climbed out. He set off at a brisk walk, not looking back to see if she was behind him. Which was so typical of her boss.
No charm yet, Megan, she said silently to her sister. One little compliment was as much as he could manage.
Abby followed Jake down a long row of well tended graves, some of which had fresh flowers in vases on them. She hadn’t thought to bring flowers, her mind being on nothing but looking her very best this morning, a realisation which upset her a little. Stupid, Abby. Get your priorities straight!
Still, Jake might have thought it was overdoing things if she’d brought flowers.
He stopped suddenly in front of a freshly dug grave which was covered with a large green felt blanket topped with a huge arrangement of native flowers which didn’t look at all bedraggled, although they had to have been there over a week.
‘That’s Craig’s grave,’ he pointed out, his rough voice betraying a depth of emotion which moved Abby.
Clearly, he had loved his uncle. A lot. Craig’s death must have upset Jake terribly, his grief heightened by not having been able to be with the man when he’d died. It had been a cruel thing for his uncle to do. He’d probably thought he was being kind, and brave. But it had been selfish of him, really. Selfish and insensitive.
Abby opened her mouth to say something sympathetic, but when she looked up at Jake she found him staring down, not at his uncle’s grave but at the grave on the left of it. The name on the gravestone was Clive Sanderson, beloved husband of Grace, much loved father of Roland, Peter, Jake, Sophie, Cleo and Fiona.
It didn’t take a genius to realise this had to be Jake’s father, the dates revealing he’d died at the age of forty-seven. How sad. What to say?
Nothing, Abby decided. She understood enough about her boss to know that he wouldn’t want to talk about it. So she returned her attention to Craig’s grave, closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks to him, at the same time adding that he really should have told his family that he was dying.
But it was too late to change anything now, she accepted. Death was very final. It took no prisoners, as the saying went. When Abby felt tears prick at her eyes she blinked them away then looked over at Jake.
‘I’ve said my thanks,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I think I’d like to go now.’
‘Good,’ he said, and stalked off in the direction of the car, not saying another word till they were both back in their seats. Only then did he speak.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I still can’t get over his death.’
‘Your uncle’s, or your father’s?’ she asked gently.
‘Ah. You saw.’ He loosened his grip on the wheel and turned to face her. ‘Both really. But Craig’s is still very raw.’
‘It gets easier with time,’ was all she could offer. Though, down deep, Abby knew some deaths stayed with you for ever.
He sighed, leant back against the car seat, took off his sunglasses then glanced over at her. ‘How did your husband die, Abby?’
‘He drowned,’ came her rather stark reply. But there was little point in not telling him the truth. ‘He went out fishing in a small dinghy not suitable for the open sea. A storm came up and he was tipped into the water. He wasn’t wearing a life belt. His body was washed up on Maroubra Beach a couple of days later.’
‘You must have been devastated,’ he said quietly, his eyes sad for her.
‘I was.’
He nodded at the obvious sincerity in her statement. ‘You are a lovely young woman,’ he went on with a sigh. ‘You’ll find someone else eventually, get married again and have lots of equally lovely children.’
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. ‘I don’t think so, Jake. I don’t want to get married again.’
‘You loved him that much?’
It was one thing to tell her boss the brutal truth about Wayne’s death, but everything else was her own private business. She would not share it with him.
‘It’s not a question of love, Jake, but what I want to do with the rest of my life. I thought I wanted marriage and children when I was younger, but my priorities have changed. I want to travel whilst I’m still young. I want to see another side of life than just what’s here in Australia. I want to see the world.’
He looked over at her for a long time. ‘I see,’ he said at last.
Probably not, she thought.
‘We’d better get going again,’ he went on gruffly. ‘We have a car to buy.’