The Wife’s Secret, page 13
‘What happened?’ he asked now.
‘He died of old age, Rolf. The vet assured me that he wasn’t suffering, but everything was failing – his hearing, his joints, his heart. He – he died in his sleep.’
‘Wow.’
She shot him an emotion-filled glance. ‘You know how he always slept on that mat near the kitchen door? One morning he just didn’t get up.’
Rolf kept his lips tightly compressed as his vivid imagination pictured Lisa’s heartbreaking discovery. It was a moment or two before he could speak. ‘That’s the best way to go, I guess. And he had a fair innings.’
‘Yes.’
‘Where did you . . .?’ He couldn’t quite finish this question.
‘He’s buried down there.’ Lisa pointed past all the rubble and mess to the very back of the yard. ‘Under one of the lilly pillies along the fence.’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’ Tucker had also been a huge fan of chasing and fetching tennis balls, and he’d been particularly fond of diving in under that dense bushy hedge to find them.
‘He never got tired of chasing those balls, although he was much slower towards the end.’ With a wistfully sad smile, Lisa said, ‘I – I buried a ball with him and made a little cairn of stones and shells. You know how he loved to sniff at them on the beach. They should still be there. I doubt the cyclone would have shifted them.’
Rolf nodded, his eyes stinging, his throat tight. ‘Nice touch. I’ll definitely check that out sometime.’
‘I may as well show you now.’
Surprised, Rolf took a beat or two to respond. ‘Sure, thanks.’
Sidestepping the cyclone debris, they crossed the length of the lawn where the boys had once kicked soccer balls. The yard was still edged by the stone-rimmed gardens that he and Lisa had once planned and built together with so much enthusiasm.
At the midpoint along the back hedge, Lisa stopped and pointed. ‘Yes, it’s held up okay.’
The cairn was made from carefully stacked smooth sea-washed stones and shells, as well as little pieces of driftwood and coral.
Rolf pictured her carefully building this, making sure it was strong and sturdy. He managed a nod and a gruff ‘Thanks’, but he didn’t trust himself to make eye contact, and standing around in silence was unhelpful. It left way too much room for memories.
Abruptly, he said, ‘I guess I should show you what I’ve managed so far with the roof.’
Lisa nodded and together they headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Renata had just finished her daily yoga routine in her little backyard studio, and she was about to move on to her vocal exercises, when she found a strange creature staring at her through the window.
She jumped and gave a little scream. But almost immediately, she came to her senses. Those peering eyes belonged to a cassowary.
Renata had seen cassowaries a few times since she’d bought her house in Beacon Bay, but only in the wild and at a distance, never in her backyard. This bird was standing perfectly still, close to the glass, and staring in at her with startling amber eyes.
At least it was on the other side of the glass, and now that she’d calmed down, she couldn’t help admiring her visitor, even though it was enormous, and she knew how very dangerous it could be, with its massive size, its huge clawed feet and scarily strong, sharp beak.
Most of its plumage was an especially glossy black, although its neck was vivid blue and purple. But its impact was made all the more splendid by a tall brown helmet on the top of its head, as well as interesting long red wattles, trailing like a scarf or a priest’s stole.
It looked as striking and majestic as any opera star on stage, and Renata could well understand why the locals treasured and respected these unique flightless birds. No wonder there were so many signs on roadsides throughout this stretch of the coast, warning visiting motorists to slow down to avoid a collision with cassowaries.
At least this bird showed no immediate signs of having been injured by the cyclone, but Renata was very aware that its rainforest habitat must have been badly smashed and defoliated. She supposed it would be feeling extremely disoriented and quite possibly lost.
‘I’m sorry,’ she told it. ‘But I’m not sure that I can help you.’ She wasn’t in the habit of talking to wildlife, and her window was soundproof, so there was no real point. But this bird’s continued intense stare felt like an attempt to communicate. ‘Are you hungry?’
She was sure she’d read that cassowaries mostly ate berries, a fact she’d found quite astonishing given how enormous they were. And she supposed there was a very good chance that the berries they depended on had been stripped by the fierce cyclonic winds and flattened by falling branches.
But although she felt sorry for this visitor, she wasn’t inclined to cut up fruit to feed it. She fancied she’d heard that feeding cassowaries was illegal, but even if it was allowed, fetching the fruit would entail a risky journey across the yard to her kitchen and she wasn’t prepared to render herself vulnerable to this fellow’s beak and claws.
She supposed the only sensible option was to continue with her singing practice and hope it wandered away.
By the end of the afternoon, Lisa was feeling somewhat better about working with Rolf, but the process had by no means been a piece of cake.
Their conversation about Tucker had left her feeling both guilty and vulnerable, and, at first, as she and Rolf went upstairs to check out the house, an unnerving tension lingered. Every glance they shared seemed charged with discomfort, every question or answer felt stilted.
As they examined the sodden carpet and the damaged furniture, Lisa was conscious of an unavoidable familiarity. This man’s grey-green eyes beneath bushy brows, his squarish hands, his wide-shouldered stance, even his mellow voice had been an intimate part of her life for so long.
While they discussed cleaning down walls and potential areas that needed repainting, Lisa was taunted by unhelpful memories. Rolf was explaining the repairs he had planned, but she was remembering the giddy happiness of those exciting days when they’d first moved into this house.
It didn’t help that she’d sensed this conversation was almost as difficult for Rolf as if was for her. She’d been in danger of completely losing it, until she’d reminded herself of the many reasons their breakup had been necessary. After all, this was also the man who’d shattered her dreams.
When Rolf had turned his focus to writing, he and Lisa had no longer felt like a team. He’d locked himself away, leaving her to feel alienated and unnecessary. And he’d been bloody stubborn about it.
This afternoon, as she’d indulged in these anger-sparking recollections, common sense eventually prevailed. She concentrated on current practicalities – which had always been her forte. With the discussions about the roof more or less settled, Rolf elected to take the carpet outside for a hose down, while Lisa filled a bucket with hot water and detergent and threw herself into the task of cleaning up her kitchen.
Fortunately, there wasn’t much water damage inside the cupboards and drawers. She left the doors open to air, but all the contents – pantry items, cookware and crockery – seemed surprisingly fine. While she was at it, she retrieved items from her pantry that she could stow in large storage containers to take to the Community Hall. The council had set up barbecues and cooktops, and townsfolk were leaving food donations – a lovely idea – and she would set aside a few things to take to share with Heidi as well.
Then she turned her attention to the walls and tiles, doors, benchtops and flooring, all of which were splattered with mud, leaves and other debris. One of the tiles on the backsplash behind the stove had been cracked by a flying piece of metal and, while Lisa was scrubbing, she played with the idea of replacing it with something more decorative.
Perhaps she could scatter a few extra coloured tiles around for a new effect? A change would be quite uplifting.
She was polishing the stove cooktop when Rolf came up the stairs, holding out his phone.
‘It’s Renata,’ he said. ‘I thought it would be best if you spoke to her.’
‘Me?’ Lisa couldn’t imagine why she should speak to this woman. His woman.
Rolf smiled, as if he understood her surprise and, for a moment, Lisa wondered if he might reassure her that he and Renata weren’t ‘a thing’.
‘It’s about a cassowary,’ he said. ‘And I know you’ve had experience helping the wildlife rangers. You were very busy after Cyclone Larry.’
Still recovering from the surprise, Lisa took the phone quickly, aware that most people’s batteries were running low, although she’d been lucky enough to recharge her own phone using the power provided by Dave’s generator.
She spoke in her most businesslike voice. ‘Hello, Renata, Lisa here. How can I help you?’
‘Lisa, Rolf tells me you’re the person to speak to about cassowaries.’
‘I might be. Do you have one in your yard?’
‘Yes, good guess. It’s been here on and off for most of the day, and I’m pretty sure it’s hungry.’
‘Okay. That’s not surprising, actually. Your place backs onto the forest and cassowaries often wander into people’s yards after a cyclone.’
‘This fellow seems a bit lost. But I wanted to check. There are rules about feeding them, aren’t there?’
‘Well, yes, normally it’s illegal. The authorities don’t want cassowaries associating our towns and backyards with food. It’s not safe for the birds or the people.’
‘No, I can imagine.’
‘But everything’s a bit different after a cyclone. The people who live near the forests often cut up fruit and take it out into the scrub at night and scatter it around. That way the cassowaries can find the food without associating it with people and settlements.’
‘I see. That sounds sensible.’ Renata gave a nervous little laugh. ‘Except that I’ve been eyeing off this chap’s beak and claws, so I’m wondering if I’m brave enough to go into the forest at night.’
‘You should be fine.’ Rolf was still standing near Lisa and she sent him a defiant smile. ‘After all, you’ll have Rolf. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to go with you.’
There was an extra beat in the pause before Renata replied. ‘Of course, good idea.’
‘But I’ll also find out what the wildlife rangers have planned,’ Lisa offered. ‘A group of us got together after Larry and Yasi, and we cut up bucketloads of fruit in the Community Hall. Then the rangers took it all away and distributed it as they saw fit.’
‘Oh, how wonderful. I really like the sound of that.’
‘I’ll keep you posted.’ Lisa was about to hang up, but Renata was talking again.
‘Yes, please do let me know. If I’m still here, I’d love to help. I’d like to be more involved in the community.’
‘Right.’ Lisa wasn’t too fussed about the prospect of Rolf’s latest ‘lady friend’ elbowing her way into their close-knit little community, but she knew this was mean-spirited. ‘All the best, Renata.’
Promptly disconnecting, she tried to keep her face noncommittal as she handed the phone back to Rolf. She read slight puzzlement in his eyes, but he didn’t question her – and she wasn’t sure what to make of that.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dave was on a high after another successful night in his café with a regular flow of very happy diners.
Several locals, including a few he’d gone to school with, had ducked around the kitchen doorway to give him the thumbs up.
‘Ace evening, Dave.’
‘We had no idea you were such a talented chef.’
Behind these compliments, Dave had heard unspoken hints to his former ‘loser’ status, but he could wear that. These were the sorts of messages he’d been secretly hoping for.
Tonight he’d also been really pleased with his team. The high schoolers had put in another terrific effort as waiters, and his mum had shown up again, mainly to look after serving the alcohol, which she didn’t believe should be left to teenagers. But Dave knew she’d also been working on the house and she had looked worn out, so he’d made sure she left early.
Ellie, meanwhile, had been amazing. Not only had she chopped a gazillion onions and tomatoes and capsicums, but she’d also attended to stirring any sauces that needed attention, as well as any cheese grating and garnishing Dave had required. On top of that, as the EFTPOS was still unreliable and Dave was keeping orders on a tab, Ellie had taken care of recording the necessary names and phone numbers of the customers.
Now, with the last plate stacked in the dishwasher, she looked across to him and saw that he’d saved leftover mushroom risotto for their meals.
She sent him an ecstatic grin. ‘Wow, Dave! That risotto was such a popular choice tonight, I didn’t expect there’d be any left.’
He gave a deliberately casual shrug. ‘The supply boat arrived this afternoon with a stack of fresh mushrooms, and I couldn’t resist making extra.’ He didn’t add that he’d seen Ellie eyeing off the risotto so hungrily that he’d purposely made more than necessary.
Truth to tell, Dave had done his own share of eyeing off this evening. He’d been way too distracted by Ellie’s sparkling eyes and enchanting smile, perfectly framed by her honey-gold hair. It was a wonder he hadn’t burned half the night’s meals.
Now, as she did a little happy dance in anticipation of the risotto, he grinned at her. ‘For a moment there, I thought I was going to score a hug.’
To his surprise, Ellie returned his grin and then held out her arms.
Oh, man. It was only a quick, friendly hug, but the contact with her was enough to set his blood pounding. Perhaps it was just as well that she released him quite promptly and stepped away. He might have been tempted to take things further.
Time to remind himself that Ellie would be out of this town just as soon as the creek waters went down and the roads were open. Any day now she’d be off, flying back to Sydney, and she hadn’t seemed keen on a casual fling. Dave might have wished otherwise, but he would respect her choice.
Actually, he had a host of reasons to respect Ellie Bright. She’d fitted into this place so easily – not just in the kitchen, where she seemed surprisingly at home, but she’d been getting on well with the locals too. There’d been quite a deal of good-natured banter when she’d taken down customers’ details for the tab. And plenty of cheery calls of goodbye to her, from both men and women, as they’d left.
Even Dave’s dad had been all happy smiles when he’d called in earlier to make arrangements for an interview with Ellie.
Now, as Dave set a glass of wine and another of beer beside the bowls of risotto on the bench that had become their eating spot, he asked, ‘So you’re going to interview my father, as well as Renata?’
‘Yes.’ Ellie settled quickly onto the stool and picked up her fork, as if she couldn’t wait to get started. ‘But my focus won’t be so much on his books. I’ll acknowledge his amazing writing achievements, of course, but that’s already been covered by so many journalists. My boss is really excited that he’s come back here to fix your mother’s house. That makes for a really good story.’
Somewhat uneasily, Dave asked, ‘And Dad knows? He’s okay with that?’
‘He seems to be. Why? You don’t think it’s a good idea?’
‘I guess it all depends on how you write it.’
Ellie’s expression was more cautious now.
Dave said, ‘I suppose I’m just conscious that I was the one who phoned Dad and dragged him away from his book tour in Melbourne. I more or less insisted he come back here to do those repairs for Mum.’
Her expressive eyes widened. ‘And Rolf didn’t want to come?’
‘No way. Not at first. And Mum didn’t want him here.’
Her expression morphed from surprise to thoughtful reflection as she took this in.
‘I mean, they haven’t had one of those civilised divorces where they continued on like old mates.’
‘Okay, I can see it could be tricky.’ After a bit, she gave a slow nod. ‘I’ll be careful, Dave. My story was always going to be positive. It seems quite amazing to me that your parents have been through a divorce, but are still able to work on this project together. And if the divorce was difficult, it shows how mature and evolved they must be. Total heroes.’
Dave gave a smiling shrug. ‘That sounds like a fair angle.’ But now he found himself wondering why he’d started this conversation. Did he really want to waste valuable time with Ellie discussing his parents? ‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Don’t let your risotto get cold.’
‘No, that would be a crime.’ Tucking in with her fork, she took her first mouthful, closed her eyes and gave an appreciative moan. ‘Oh, my, Dave, this is even better than I imagined.’
‘Glad you like it.’
‘Like it? It’s practically orgasmic.’
Wham. Ellie should have been more careful with her word choice. Clearly she had no idea of the direction of his thoughts this evening.
Now, battling his testosterone-fuelled reaction to her praise, Dave also turned his attention to the food. Apart from the distant hum of generators, everything was quiet, with just the chink of cutlery against china. Outside the café, the night was calm, still and warm, with no hint of the autumn chill that most of Australia enjoyed on March evenings.
The silence might have become awkward if a black Staffordshire terrier hadn’t suddenly appeared in the doorway, sniffing at the doorpost and then at the mat. No owner followed, so it was quite possibly a stray.
‘That little fellow looks hungry,’ said Ellie.
‘Could well be,’ Dave agreed. ‘Plenty of fences are knocked down during cyclones and dogs take off and then get themselves lost.’
‘That’s sad. Should we feed this fellow?’
‘I should probably check the collar first.’ Dave stood, but before he could reach the doorway, the dog scampered off again, disappearing into the night.
