Blackpeak Station Page 23

‘He was doing what?’

  Susannah Liddell, for starters. ‘Oh … lying to me, cheating on me …’

  ‘It is too easy for men like Luca,’ said Flavia gently. ‘They have the beauty, the charm, the — other things — too. They forget they are not like your magnificent ariete there. That they do not always have to use them.’ She smiled. ‘Italy is full of Lucas.’

  Was it? Bloody hell.

  ‘Do not worry, cara — we only catch a man like that once. After that, we are immune.’

  ‘So …’ Nick, battling his jet lag on the sitting room sofa, opened his eyes and yawned. ‘How were the new sheep?’

  ‘Like the old sheep.’ Flavia tucked herself under his arm. ‘Only better.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

  Taking a chair by the fireplace, Charlotte watched her brother. There was really no point putting it off — she did need to know if he was going to buy her share of Blackpeak back. Or not. Especially not. Ugh, it looked like her father had been right all along — she should never have been allowed a share. How long had it taken her to lose it? Not even six months …

  Okay. Time to find out. Let the axe fall. Should she wait until Flavia left the room? Being ‘family’ was all very well, but bankrupt relations — maybe not so much.

  ‘There you all are.’ Andrea wandered in, a bottle of pinot gris in her hand. ‘I thought we might like a glass of wine while dinner’s cooking.’

  Nick checked his watch and groaned. ‘Is that really the time?’

  Andrea got out four glasses, then paused. ‘Where’s Jen?’

  ‘She’s gone into town for the afternoon — she had to take Patch to the vet’s.’ Uh-oh, she’d forgotten all about that. ‘Um, sorry, Mum — actually, she rang a few hours ago to say she won’t be here for dinner.’

  Andrea rolled her eyes and poured the wine. She handed the glasses round and took the other armchair.

  Charlotte couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time they’d sat in this room drinking wine — her mother, Nick and Flavia, her and Luke … and then, after they’d all gone to bed, that was the chair … God, there were so many doors in this house she shouldn’t open. Literally. Just walking past the billiard room made her feel ill. In fact, it might as well be a Chinese restaurant, really — she could never go back in there anyway.

  ‘Have you started?’ Andrea looked at Nick.

  He shook his head. ‘I was waiting for you.’

  Right. Charlotte pulled herself together. So it looked like Flavia was staying, then.

  ‘Do you want to do it?’ Andrea asked.

  ‘No,’ Nick smiled briefly. ‘You go.’

  Oh God.

  ‘Darling, about your loan …’

  Ugh, would she just get on with it?

  Andrea put her wine down. ‘I’ve had a word to the bank, and they’re prepared to lend you up to five hundred thousand dollars.’

  Well, that was a couple of hundred thousand more than they’d told her two years ago, but she’d already known the bank was no use.

  ‘I’ve also talked to the solicitors, and they agree with me that, as things stand now’ — Andrea smiled at Flavia — ‘Blackpeak is an excellent investment. We’re willing to put in the whole trust fund.’

  Wow. Seriously? That was another five hundred grand, give or take a few bonds! Double wow. So she was only half a million short? That was doable, surely! Charlotte’s mind raced to the van der Velden sketches out in the hall. She didn’t like looking at those any more anyway. But no — bugger it, all the good stuff was Nick’s. It went with the house. How much was a kidney worth these days?

  ‘That’s fantastic, Mum,’ she said gently, a lump in her throat. ‘Thank you so much … but …’

  ‘Mum thought if she mortgaged her house,’ Nick broke in, ‘and sold a few things, she could scrape up the rest.’

  Charlotte bit her lip. No …

  ‘But I had a better idea,’ said Flavia. ‘Fratelli Sammartino also thinks that you are a very good investment. We will put in the rest.’

  ‘But I can’t—’

  ‘You will pay us back when you can.’ Flavia waved an airy hand. ‘When the station has a surplus.’

  Well, that wasn’t going to be for a while. Not with her salary. And the budget for improving the stud, and … ‘What about the Overseas Investment Office?’

  Flavia shrugged. ‘This is an agreement between friends. It will not be registered on the title.’ She sipped her wine. ‘We do not wish to increase our ownership, cara. We wish to invest in the land. In you.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  Nick raised his eyebrows. ‘I think “thank you” might be traditional at such times.’

  God. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘Thank your mother,’ Flavia beamed. ‘She has done everything.’

  ‘Mum.’ Lurching out of her chair, Charlotte threw her arms round Andrea’s neck. ‘I can’t believe you did all this … and you were going to …’ She pulled back, her eyes welling up. No words would come.

  ‘You know, it was surprisingly easy, dear.’ Andrea looked very pleased with herself. ‘And really, it would have been no problem at all. It seems I’m very lowly geared.’

  Charlotte closed her eyes. She felt — what did she feel? Like a bungy cord had snatched her back up just before her head hit the water. Grateful. Relieved. Happy, of course. But mainly, bloody exhausted.

  After dinner, Nick and Flavia crawled straight off to bed, and she could have been right behind them. She waited up just long enough for Jen to get back from town.

  ‘There you go!’ Jen — who was looking surprisingly smart — rushed round the kitchen table to give her a hug as soon as she’d explained. ‘I knew it would all work out!’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘I’m glad somebody did.’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘And am I not’ — Jen grinned — ‘always right?’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘That a girl. Now go to bed, you look like you’re ready to drop.’

  In her room, Charlotte undressed slowly. It was cold tonight — they might get the first frost. She got her old flannelette pyjamas out of the drawer. Pulling them on, she crawled under her duvet and was asleep in less than a minute.

  On the morning of May 15th, Charlotte was awake before her alarm. She picked up yesterday’s clothes from the floor, pulled them on and, slipping through the quiet house, unlocked the kitchen door. In the porch, she tugged on her boots and bush shirt.

  ‘Going somewhere?’

  She turned. Jen, in sheepskin boots and dressing gown, stood in the doorway behind her.

  ‘Just out for a bit.’

  Jen studied her face. ‘Want me to come with you?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘But it’s okay. I just need …’ What did she need? ‘To do something. By myself.’

  Jen smiled back gently. ‘Okay.’

  Opening the porch door, she stepped out into the morning.

  ‘Charlie?’

  ‘What?’ She looked back over her shoulder.

  ‘Just … don’t be too long, okay?’

  Tinks was waiting, nose pressed to the wire, when Charlotte walked past the run. Taking pity on her, Charlotte let her out. In the bay shed, Charlotte unhooked the quad bike keys from the security box, coaxed the cold four-stroke into life and set off on the track up to Rough Creek Spur. Behind her, Tinks surfed the tray, ears flying.

  The sky was still an early-morning grey, damp and flat. Ahead, the tip of Mount Pickford, just clearing the cloud, was starting to catch the sun. At the top of the spur, Charlotte turned the bike around, looking back over the valley. Tinks jumped down. So — this was it. She turned the ignition off, and the silence wrapped around her.

  Charlotte checked her watch. Four hours from now, she would have been standing here marrying Luke. She sat still, watching the sunlight break over the Rosalie Range. All around, a fine net of dew lay over the long gra
ss. Everyone would be getting their feet wet, today.

  God, she’d made some plans up here. Not many of them had worked out. There’d been that boy in high school — what was his name? Any number of schemes to impress her dad … Mad ideas, like the house she’d build if he gave her even a hectare or two. So she’d had one more — so what? This place could soak that up too.

  What had she dreamed of mostly? It being hers. Until death do us part. She had her first love. The rest — well, that was just being greedy.

  There were fewer ghosts up here than she’d thought. Tinks, soaking wet and covered in grass seed, jumped back on the bike and panted in her ear. Charlotte looked around — at the river fanned out below the terrace cliffs, the shingle screes cutting the hills, the glacier lost in lowering cloud over her shoulder. Sooner or later, fast or slow, everything moved on.

  She turned the key. As she made her way slowly off the spur, it began to rain.

  Back at the homestead, Charlotte showered and changed and got ready for work. It was nothing to write home about. Just another drizzly autumn day.

  Chapter TWENTY

  On a sun-warmed rock, the lambs were playing king-of-the-castle. Charlotte took another picture for her report. The stud ewes had finished lambing last week — in a minor miracle, they’d got eighty per cent success from AI, and a hundred and forty overall. Getting the lambs through to tailing was, of course, another matter.

  They’d been lucky so far this year. A quiet winter, a warm, wet spring. The wool clip was already money in the bank, and the Fratelli Sammartino mills had their first ultrafine bale. Okay, so they wouldn’t get much more than the contents of Flavia’s wardrobe out of Blackpeak this time around, but it was a start. A good start.

  Charlotte watched the next lamb take its turn at the top. He was a biggie — a ram lamb almost certainly, and early enough to have come from the Australian sire. She sighed happily. In another nineteen months, some of these little guys would be spreading their expensive genes through the main flock.

  She checked her watch. Nearly time to Skype Nick. Putting her camera away, she climbed back in the truck and headed home.

  Kath’s car was in the drive, and Charlotte smiled. With Andrea down from Christchurch since the September quake, Kath didn’t really need to come up to the homestead every day. But you just couldn’t keep her away.

  ‘I can’t let you pay me for doing nothing,’ she’d exclaimed, when Charlotte had tried to suggest Kath treat Andrea’s stay as an overdue holiday. ‘What about the garden? I can do that.’ Six weeks on, the borders were ready any time House & Garden should drop by, and the veggie patch had never looked so neat.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ Andrea looked up from her scone dough. ‘Cup of tea?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Charlotte carried it through to the office and logged on. Right on time. It was ten o’clock in Milan — just after dinner, apparently.

  ‘Hey, Charles.’ Nick’s face popped up. God, he looked more Italian every time she saw him. Well, apart from the hair. And the eyes …

  ‘Ciao, Carlotta!’ Flavia draped herself over Nick’s shoulder.

  ‘Hi guys.’

  ‘How are our lambs today?’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Smiling, Nick shook his head. ‘Before you girls get onto sheep again, we have news.’ He paused.

  Good news, she hoped — although Flavia looked a bit worried.

  ‘Cara, I hope it is not upsetting for you, but …’

  Uh-oh. But what?

  ‘We’re getting married,’ Nick cut in.

  Oh — wow. ‘That’s fantastic!’ Oh dear, she was tearing up. ‘I’m so happy for you. Congratulations. Have you told Mum?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Now Nick looked a bit nervous as well. ‘There’s something we wanted to talk to you about first.’

  Charlotte dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘What?’

  ‘Well, the thing is … we were wondering how you’d feel if — well, Flavia’s family think it’d be really cool if we had the wedding at Blackpeak.’

  ‘But we do not have to,’ said Flavia quickly. ‘I think perhaps it is too — difficult — for you.’

  ‘No.’ Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘Of course you should have it here.’

  ‘Grazie, cara … you are sure? It is really okay for you?’

  Actually … it kind of was. She smiled. ‘So long as you don’t want to do it up at Rough Creek Spur.’

  ‘Cara.’ Flavia pressed her fingers to her lips. God, that was quite a rock she had on her hand — so that was where Blackpeak’s purchase price had gone.

  ‘We were thinking more like the lawn,’ smiled Nick.

  ‘Perfect.’ For a moment, they stared at each other. ‘So … when?’

  ‘How does April sound?’ Nick raised his eyebrows. ‘Flavia’s dad wants to see the start of the muster.’

  Yikes. ‘Sure …’ She shook her head. ‘God, I can’t believe my brother’s getting married … hang on, let me get Mum …’

  Half an hour later, after everyone except Nick had cried and Andrea had started on the guest list, Nick interrupted.

  ‘Actually, Mum, there’s some business stuff we needed to talk to Charlotte about as well.’

  ‘Oh, all right, darling.’ Tactfully, Andrea withdrew.

  Nick blew out his cheeks.

  ‘Do you really need to talk to me?’ Charlotte smiled.

  ‘I need not to talk about that for another hour,’ he sighed. ‘It’s bad enough at this end. There are so many Sammartinos, I’m not sure there’s going to be room on the lawn for anyone I know.’

  Flavia narrowed her eyes at him.

  ‘But anyway — yeah, there is something. There’s an operation Fratelli Sammartino wants you to go and have a look at. They’re really getting their microns down, and they’re clipping the perfect length for the mills.’

  ‘Sure!’ Charlotte picked up a pen. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘About five hours out of Brisbane.’

  Australia? Seriously? ‘Um,’ she stammered, ‘I don’t know … I’m not sure I can really get away.’

  ‘Matt’s back, isn’t he? He and Rex can handle the place for a bit. Take a week off — make it a holiday.’

  On her own?

  ‘You can take Jen with you.’ Nick read her thoughts. ‘Come on, Charles, how long since you’ve been off the station?’

  Umm …

  ‘Exactly. Go!’ He smiled. ‘Anyway, this is an order from the big boss — you don’t really have a choice.’

  Well, when you put it like that — ‘Okay, okay. He’ll have to wait for a few weeks though. I can’t go straight away.’

  Nick sighed. ‘And why’s that?’

  ‘I’ll have to get a passport.’

  A month later, passport in hand, Charlotte sat nervously in the departures lounge at Christchurch Airport. She’d flown a few planes, briefly, over the years, but she’d never been on a commercial flight. Not that she was worried it might crash — more that she’d make a dick of herself. She’d already caused a minor security alert by forgetting that the new hoof-paring knife she’d bought at the Show yesterday was still in her jacket pocket.

  Jen came back with the coffees. ‘There you go — one sugar.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Was that Flavia on the phone again last night?’

  ‘Sure was.’

  ‘What’s the Sammartino-count up to now?’

  ‘Actually, it’s gone down — apparently Great-aunt Orietta can’t make it.’

  ‘Shame.’ Jen grinned, then yawned.

  Charlotte looked around. God, there were a lot of loved-up couples in here. She hoped they weren’t all getting on her plane. Look at those two …

  ‘Ugh.’ Jen followed her gaze. ‘Get a room.’

  Charlotte sipped her coffee. Phew, that ought to put hairs on her chest. She stirred in the rest of the sugar. ‘Do you think we’ll ever meet someone?’ she smiled.

  ‘Um …’

  Um? She
studied Jen more closely.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.’

  No way! ‘You’ve met someone? Who?’

  ‘You know Hannah …’

  The vet? Who’d have guessed? Wow, she was pretty … Charlotte grinned — so that’s why Jen’s dogs were always sick these days. She nudged Jen’s shoulder. ‘So how long’s that been going on, then?’

  Jen looked embarrassed. ‘About five months or so.’

  What? ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I know, I know — I meant to, it’s just …’ Jen winced. ‘Well, when we first got together, you were so bummed about — stuff … it didn’t seem like the right time to tell you that I’d …’ She broke off, smiling, and stared into her cup.

  ‘That you’d what?’ Oh! Charlotte’s eyes widened. Fallen in love? She stared at Jen.

  Glancing up, Jen bit her lip briefly, then nodded. ‘Yeah. That.’

  Double wow. ‘That’s fantastic — I’m so happy for you.’ God, she seemed to be saying that a lot, these days. ‘Really. That’s just — it’s great.’ Putting down her coffee, she gave Jen a hug.

  ‘Hey.’ Jen searched her face. ‘You’ll meet someone too, you know.’

  Yeah, right.

  ‘Oh, come on — you will.’ Jen smiled. ‘The world’s full of guys. Look, there’s one — he’s hot.’

  Charlotte looked. Actually, he was pretty hot. Well, the back of him, at least. Her eyes travelled up his well-cut suit to his muscular shoulders and — holy crap. She grabbed Jen’s knee.

  ‘What is it?’

  The PA system blurted a final boarding call. He turned. She stood up as he walked towards her.

  ‘Charlotte.’ He looked down into her eyes. ‘How’ve you been?’

  ‘Fine,’ she managed. God, had he always looked this good?

  Beside her, Jen waved. ‘Hi, Rob.’

  ‘Jen — hey, good to see you.’ The familiar blue eyes returned to Charlotte’s face. ‘You look well.’ They softened. ‘I heard … well, I saw your mother a few months back and she told me …’

  Oh, crap.

  ‘Anyway.’ Rob smiled. ‘You look good.’

  Her coat slipped from her arm. They both dropped to their heels to pick it up. ‘Sorry.’ Charlotte regathered the coat, losing her bag in the process. Rob, his knee touching hers, his face inches away, slid the fallen strap up her bare arm and back onto her shoulder. ‘There.’