Head for the Hills, page 6
She flicked leaves and dirt from one of the cushions then picked it up and shook it before replacing it and sitting. She’d had many a cup of coffee here with Gunter when she’d brought him something she’d baked. Beside her, the sash window to his bedroom was still wedged open a sliver by a thin block of wood, and beneath her feet the cement was cracked and broken. The house might be in disrepair but the view…She looked out across the valley again.
She remembered the conversation she’d had with him several years earlier when he’d been thinking he’d put his place on the market. She’d sat on this very chair and set the food she’d brought on the table. Gunter had made them coffee.
“Here we are.” He’d carried a tray loaded with his stove-top coffee pot and everything else they’d need to make the coffee. He’d put it on the table next to the plate with her date-and-banana cake and proceeded to pour.
Margot preferred coffee from her shop but next best was Gunter’s and with cups in hand they’d settled back and turned to the view. One of the men Gunter had taken under his wing was moving slowly between the vines. Margot followed his stilted progress, unsure how she was going to start the conversation she’d been planning without sounding mercenary. She took a sip of the coffee. The intensity hit the back of her tongue then mellowed. Beside her Gunter cleared his throat.
“You’ve probably heard I’m thinking of selling…” His words trailed off and he looked down into the cup he gripped in his hands.
“We did hear that, yes.” He looked so vulnerable Margot’s heart broke for him and for a moment she wanted to leave things be but it was too good an opportunity to miss. “That’s what I’ve come to see you about actually. Dennis and I would like to make you an offer.”
Gunter’s eyes went to the cake.
“That’s not why I brought the food,” she added quickly.
He smiled and picked up a slice. “I have been the lucky recipient of many fine dishes from your kitchen. I’m most grateful. I miss my dear wife’s cooking.”
“Dennis…well, Dennis and I are worried for you, Gunter.”
“Why?” He looked genuinely surprised. “I’m not unwell. Just a little weary of managing on my own. My sons suggested I downsize.” He looked out across the valley. “I’ve had a good life here. I hope my good fortune might be of more use to others.”
Margot frowned.
“I could use the money from the sale to help with local people down on their luck.”
“You’re a kind man, Gunter.”
He volunteered at the Hills Community Hub in Mount Barker and often had some of the clients work with him. He believed new skills and some supportive words were sometimes all someone needed to build self-esteem. Gunter was one to action his principles, a quality Margot found admirable. He’d helped many men get back on their feet over the years.
Gunter cleared his throat. “The money left over after I get myself a small place in town would be useful at the Hub.”
“You haven’t actually signed with an agent yet, have you?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh, that’s good, we—”
“But I’ve been talking with one who’s been very helpful. Unless there’s something wrong, I’ll stick with her. I will not go back on my word.”
“But Dennis and I could make you a private offer.” Margot lurched forward. “It would be market value plus some extra, of course, and it would be straightforward.”
“Straightforward?”
“Cut out the middleman. It’s more money for you, for your charity.”
“Oh, yes. I understand, but my sons have been advising me and they think it best it go on the open market.”
Margot swallowed her annoyance at his sons, who rarely visited and no doubt were thinking of the future when they might get a bit of Gunter’s money too.
“I don’t want anything to be awkward between us, that’s why I’m thinking of going with the agent.” Gunter smiled kindly. “That doesn’t mean you might not buy the property, just that the agent would deal with it all. It’s kind of you to think you might save me some money by not having an agent but we don’t want money discussions to come between friends.”
The image of his kindly smile dissipated as Margot was startled out of her reminiscing by hammering. She looked towards the sound coming from further along Gunter’s driveway, but the curve in the tree line blocked her view of whatever it was. She stepped down from the verandah and moved cautiously along the drive. There was a dual cab parked up at the entrance and a man was putting up a sign. Another lay at his feet. She went back to her car, wondering what she’d do if it was someone from Meyer and Brightman and they’d come to view the property. She sat hunkered down in her seat like a sneak for several minutes and finally decided to simply drive right out. She was a neighbour checking on the place, that was all.
When she approached Gunter’s gate the dual cab was gone but a sign had been hammered in beside the gate, replacing the For Sale sign. She pulled up beside it, reading with astonishment. The site was the proposed location for the Adelaide Hills’ newest accommodation, a boutique hotel. All enquiries were to be directed to Meyer and Brightman. There was a name and contact details.
Margot selected Dennis’s number with trembling fingers but her call went to voicemail. With shaky hands she took a picture of the sign and sent it to him as warm tears began to course down her cheeks. Not only had they missed out on buying it, but there really was to be some kind of huge hotel development right next door.
Roslyn looked up at the sound of wheels crunching on her gravel drive followed by a sharp skid as brakes were applied. She wasn’t expecting visitors. A car door slammed. She struggled to her feet just as someone knocked on her front door.
“Roslyn?” The voice was Margot’s.
She paused to steady herself and there was another knock and call. Roslyn crossed the lounge, ignoring the pain in her hip and knees. She flung open the door before Margot could knock again. “You don’t usually drive—” She was silenced by Margot’s wail and her arms being flung around Roslyn’s neck.
“What on earth’s happened?”
“It’s all too terrible.”
A small stab of concern caught Roslyn in the chest. “Is Dennis—”
Margot wailed louder. Roslyn drew her to the couch, sat her down and took a wad of tissues from her pocket. She handed them to Margot without bothering to see if they were clean.
“Catch your breath and tell me. What’s happened? Where’s Dennis?”
Margot stopped her sniffling, blew her nose and fixed Roslyn with a surprised look. “At work.”
Roslyn huffed out the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. “So he’s okay?”
“He was fine when he left this morning.”
“The children?”
“They’re fine too. I’ve been to Gunter’s place.”
“Is something wrong there?”
“Yes! No! Well, yes and no.”
Roslyn sat back, perplexed. Sometimes talking with Margot was as if she’d entered a theatre late and missed the first scene of a play.
“I know we didn’t get the place but I wanted to look at it again, one last time.” She blew her nose. “I rang Dennis but he didn’t answer so I sent him a photo.”
Roslyn pursed her lips. “You sent Dennis a photo of Gunter’s place—”
“No, not the house or anything. There was a sign.”
“What sign?” Roslyn snapped, her patience wearing thin.
“While I was there someone put up a sign.” Margot flapped her hands in the air. “It was what I feared but Dennis said we should wait and see.”
“Wait and see what?”
“Meyer and Brightman have put up a sign at Gunter’s gate. Well, at least, one of their minions did it, I suppose.” Margot’s tears were all gone now but her eyeliner had smudged below her eyes.
“A sign that said what?”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Roslyn, pay attention. They’re actually going to do it.”
Roslyn pursed her lips. Margot would surely make sense eventually.
“They’re going to build a hotel on Gunter’s land, right next door to our place.”
“That’s what was on the sign?” Roslyn knew about the hotel but it was still in planning as far as she understood.
“Proposed hotel, it said.” Margot’s nose was red from blowing and her bright pink lipstick was smudged as well as her eyeliner, giving her the appearance of a surprised clown.
“These things take time,” Roslyn said. “Big companies do this kind of thing. It could take years or never come to anything.” She used an authoritative tone but from what she understood Meyer and Brightman had been doing their homework. She stood. “I’ve not long had a coffee but I might have another. Would you like one?”
“Proper coffee?”
“Of course. My machine’s been fixed.”
Margot nodded and followed her to the kitchen, taking a seat on the couch where Roslyn had been working before her arrival.
The buzzing and hissing of the machine prevented further conversation for a while and allowed time for the pain in Roslyn’s leg to ease. She was walking steadily by the time she’d filled the mugs. She took them across to the sunny sitting area.
Margot looked around as Roslyn set the mugs on the little table between them then leaped up. “I forgot I brought you biscuits and slice. They’re still in the car.”
“Please don’t get them on my account. I’m trying to cut back on sweets.”
Margot raised her eyebrows but instead of saying more on the subject she waved at the papers Roslyn had left spread across the coffee table. “What’s this?”
“Kei’s teaching me Japanese.”
“Oh, how sweet.”
“We’ve only been doing it a while. We end each video call with a lesson and I’m supposed to practise in between. It helps that I’ve visited them and spent some time in Japan but I’m not much good at it.” It was wonderful to have something to work on together with Kei though, that’s why she did it. Her only grandchild lived so far away; Roslyn badly wanted to continue to make connections with him.
“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.” Margot smiled. “Nick’s boys used to enjoy baking with me but we haven’t had any cooking sessions for ages, not since they started school, I guess. They get busy. Isabella and I have a date to make gingerbread biscuits before Christmas.”
They sipped their coffees.
“I really am worried about the possibility of a hotel being built right on my doorstep.”
“I’d agree if it was on your doorstep but it’s—”
“I knew you’d be on my side, our side.”
“It’s not a matter of taking sides. The hotel won’t be right on your doorstep – there’s a lot of land between you.”
“But surely you don’t want a hotel so close.”
“I don’t know enough about it yet.”
“It’s such a shame,” Margot moaned. The look on her face made it clear she wasn’t listening.
“What is?”
“To not have Em and the kids move to Gunter’s.”
“I think you have to accept that that horse has bolted, Margot. Something else will come up.”
“Not close like Gunter’s.” Margot fixed her with a glare. “Unless you’re selling?”
“No. I’m not. They can cart me out in a box when my time comes. I’ve made that clear in my paperwork.” Although the way her body was letting her down, that might be sooner rather than later.
“That’s how I feel too. And how good would it be to have my daughter, your niece, nearby as we get older.”
“I wouldn’t expect Emily to run around after me as well.”
“You’re on your own now, Roslyn. Jerome’s too far away to be any help.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“Yet.”
Once more Roslyn eyeballed her sister.
Margot sighed. “Having Emily at Gunter’s would have been perfect.”
“You can’t dwell on it, Margot.”
“Goodness, you sounded just like Dad then.” Margot sat up straight, pulled a serious face and cleared her throat before putting on a deep voice. “You mustn’t dwell on it, Margot. You’ll only get grey hair and wrinkles for no reason.”
They both smiled at the memory of their dear dad who’d died only a few years prior. Roslyn settled back against her chair and Margot did too.
“What I mean is it may never have happened anyway.” Roslyn spoke softly this time. “What if Gunter had lived on merrily for many more years?”
“His place is a lot more work.”
“I know but he could have got help in. Lived there for another ten or twenty years. He was only in his seventies. If Em and Cam truly want to move they should be talking to agents about where and what they want. Another great opportunity might be just around the corner.”
“You’re being very positive.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“I’d describe you more as…direct but…” Margot looked her up and down. “You know, I think you’ve softened around the edges since you retired.”
“Got rounder, you mean.” Roslyn sat a little taller. She’d put on a few kilos in the last two years.
“Maybe a little but that’s not what I meant. You are perhaps…well…not so forthright as you were,” she finished lamely.
Roslyn sniffed. “I’ve never been one to beat around the bush when there was a direct path.”
“Sometimes I wish I could be like that.”
“Do you?” That surprised Roslyn. Margot was as soft as butter when it came to differing opinions. She was no good at dealing with conflict. Which could be a good thing in regard to the hotel being mooted for next door. Margot might get a little hot under the collar for a while. Fire a few bullets supplied by Dennis, and then as soon as someone took the opposite side she’d back down. This current animosity would blow over. “It’s important to stand up for what you believe in but sometimes it’s a difficult path. That’s when you have to weigh up the pros and cons. Make sure you take the emotion out of it.”
“You’re right, I suppose.” Suddenly Margot’s eyes sharpened. She glanced at her watch. “Thanks for the chat and the coffee. I’d better get home. I’m having Henry for the afternoon and I’ve got lots to do.” She made for the back door.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Roslyn nodded towards the front of her house.
“Oh.” Margot put a hand to her forehead. “I came in the car. Silly me. Forget my head and all that.” She chuckled as she went the other way. It was an odd, forced clucking sound. “See you.”
Roslyn was thankful she’d gone. The blasted pain had returned, this time in her lower back, and she’d become uncomfortable in the chair. She didn’t diagnose other people’s ailments but she’d done her own and she knew it wasn’t good. She couldn’t avoid it any longer. The time had come to make an appointment with her GP. If only some of her earlier positivity towards Margot translated to herself.
seven
“Here’s your mumma and your sister back from kindy,” Margot crooned in Henry’s ear. She’d been watching out the window for Emily’s car for the last thirty minutes.
He cried and reached for his mother as soon as she came inside. She took him and Margot’s arms fell to her sides, aching from the weight of him.
“What’s up?” Emily cuddled him against her shoulder.
“He was fine till he woke up from his nap. He’s a bit flushed. I wonder if he’s teething.”
“Ugh, surely not again.”
“Nanny, look what I made at kindy.” Isabella tugged on her arm and held up a page with her name on it, colourful pompoms glued to each letter.
“Won’t that look nice in your room,” Margot said.
“What’s all this?” Henry had stopped crying and Emily was gazing at the papers spread across the table. Margot had been trying to read and sort them while she’d jiggled the baby.
“That blasted Meyer and Brightman are definitely planning to build a hotel next door. They’ve put up a sign declaring it.”
“Oh, Mum, it’ll be awful. Your lovely quiet road…” Her voice trailed away and they both stared at the assorted papers.
Margot started scooping them up. “I’ve been scanning the internet trying to find out what I could do about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There has to be some way to stop it.”
“Do you think there is?”
“I’m going to do my best to find out. I won’t let them spoil our beautiful town without a fight.”
“Go, Mum.”
Henry started to grizzle again and Margot ran a hand over the soft curls on his head. “He’s not himself. You’d better get him home.”
At the door Emily turned back. “Will you have time to help with food for the family dinner?”
“Of course I will. It’ll be my weekend off so I can help with the children and I’ll make something. I’ll think on it and let you know.”
Margot waved them off then hurried back inside. She’d only been able to skim some of the information she’d printed before Emily had dropped Henry off. She collected the papers and moved into the office.
Margot heard Dennis coming in from the garage and glanced up at the clock. Damn, it was after six and she hadn’t thought about dinner. After her cooking spree first thing that morning she’d cleaned up and not gone back into the kitchen except to make herself a sandwich for lunch.
“Margot?”
“In the office,” she called. “You’re late.”
“Few problems at work.” He waved a hand dismissively, looked at the stacks of paper all over the desk then back to Margot. “What are you doing?”
“Working on the plan.”
“What plan?”
