Chapter Two
It was early March and the weather in Melbourne was beautiful as Carrie drove her black Mercedes up to Magnolia Creek. She’d stayed with Lachlan last night, enjoying seafood in a restaurant overlooking the Yarra River, and whilst she’d always loved the city, driving away from it this morning felt like the start of something. Quite what, Carrie wasn’t sure, but with every kilometre between her and the life she knew, the life she’d thrown everything at since she decided at the age of sixteen to follow a career in medicine, the more she felt that this was the right thing to do.
Two weeks after returning from her hiatus on the Gold Coast, Carrie had found the nannying job. She was needed within eight weeks, and when she couldn’t find a suitable place to rent, she decided it was as good a time as any to take the leap and get on the property ladder. Ever since she’d made up her mind, it had been a whirlwind of house-hunting, bidding at an auction for the first time, a 45-day wait for settlement and, boom, her new life was lined up and waiting for her.
‘You should be grovelling for your job back at the hospital,’ Lachlan had insisted when she’d told him her plans.
‘I don’t grovel for anything!’
‘You can’t give up on a career you’ve worked so hard for,’ he said more kindly. ‘I’d hate to see you do that.’
She calmed down too. ‘I’m not saying I’m walking away for good. I need a little time. This is only a temporary change and it’ll give me a break from the norm.’
‘You’ve just had a break. In the Gold Coast, remember?’ So together and composed, this man usually took everything in his stride. His jaw tensed and she knew he was finding it hard that nothing he said seemed to get through to her.
She wrapped her arms around him. ‘I promise you I’m not going to fall apart again. Think of this as a shrewd business move, a start in the property world, and once I’ve had the house renovated, we’ll take it from there.’ She clasped his hands in hers, feeling less confident than she sounded.
Carrie knew Lachlan wanted more for her. Their lives together had been ideal – both of them moving forwards in their careers, both working hard and putting in the hours – but now they’d veered off course, Carrie had no idea how to get back on track.
The sun had pole position in the sky as she got further away from the city and continued her journey up to Magnolia Creek. Before she’d bought the house, her memories of the town were of Kristy’s wedding and Owen’s parents’ sprawling house with its gardens, pool and air conditioning. This time Magnolia Creek was set to be very different and she giggled out loud as she drove along with her shades pulled down, her mane of blonde hair let loose. The house she’d bought could best be described as a ‘hidden beauty’. She’d heard the phrase from Owen back when they were dating. He liked to buy properties and see them achieve their potential, and she hoped she’d manage to do the same with this house that needed so much doing that friends and family thought she’d gone a little insane.
She stopped off at the real estate agent in Fernybrooke, the suburb she needed to pass through on the way to Magnolia Creek, and with the keys to the house on the passenger seat she drove on, followed the bend round to the right. She passed the yellow triangle warning sign with the chunky, black wombat silhouette that signalled to her this wasn’t the city anymore, and, beneath the canopy of trees that formed overhead as the road narrowed, she saw the sign reading ‘Welcome to Magnolia Creek’ in big loopy letters.
The house she’d bought was at the top of a very steep hill, past the quaint little school. Her car climbed the hill easily and she pulled into the driveway on the right. She got out of the car, keys in hand, and took in the sight of the brick house with its sturdy front door that the owners had put in with its fly-screen security door, although Carrie doubted anyone would ever bother to break in given there was nothing inside to pinch, including any fixtures or fittings. Behind the front door, she knew there was a shell that needed a hell of a lot of tender loving care to put it right again.
Carrie let herself in and stood in the hallway. She couldn’t stop smiling. On auction day the place had been overrun with eager buyers and she’d been nervous. Lachlan had come with her and bid for the property, his poker-face giving nothing away until the auctioneer’s hammer fell, when he’d turned to her and kissed her full on the mouth to say congratulations. But, now, it was nice to take the first steps inside on her own.
The floorboards weren’t bad and thankfully there was only one old threadbare carpet to be taken up in the lounge, beneath which were more floorboards, which she hoped could be sanded and polished and brought back to life easily enough. The kitchen would need to be ripped out; same with the bathroom. Carrie touched a hand to the pine cupboards on the wall of the kitchen at the end of the hallway but immediately wished she hadn’t when she felt the grease and grime signalling years of neglect. She guessed she’d done it because this was hers, and the thought had her buzzing for the first time in a long while.
She took some wipes out of her handbag as she walked back through the house and into the room on the opposite side of the corridor to the lounge. The floorboards creaked as she stood in the empty space with nothing but an ornate fireplace for company. She’d already decided to keep it because following the survey of the house she knew it was merely dust and dirt that made it look unusable, and beneath all of that it would come up as good as new with a superior cleaning solution plus a lot of elbow grease.
Carrie finished wiping her hands and, back in the hallway, followed the narrow staircase up to two bedrooms. The bathroom off the main bedroom was old – nothing like she was used to – but in a box in the car, along with a single airbed she’d use for a couple of weeks until the bedroom was ready, she had a tartan shower curtain she’d bought especially. She tried the taps and the shower attachment, and although not great, at least they were functional.
Excited to be here and eager to settle herself in, Carrie went back to her car and, beneath the autumn sunshine and pleasant outside temperature, opened the boot to pull out the few boxes she’d brought. She had cleaning cloths, liquids, rubbish bags and scrubbing brushes in one, along with a few pairs of marigolds. In another she had sheets for the airbed plus a pump. Another box contained tea towels and bath towels along with three bottles of liquid soap, one for the laundry sink, one for the bathroom and the other for the kitchen. She took the boxes inside, as well as a duvet and a suitcase full of clothes.
As she climbed the stairs with the cleaning equipment she noticed the banister would need repairing too and already she thought she might paint it white to brighten the place up. The existing wood was a nut-brown colour but she wanted the inside of the house to resemble a seaside cottage, a Cape Cod style house interior except on a smaller scale. She could see it in her mind’s eye already – with soft furnishings and a rug in the lounge, plantation shutters at the windows – and she was glad that even though she had chosen a career in medicine, she’d inherited a little bit of her mum’s passion for interior design.
Carrie got to work scrubbing the bath and the sink in the bathroom and although she couldn’t rid it of years’ worth of grime, it would do for now. She swept the floor in the bedroom and plugged a couple of holes in a floorboard with scrunched-up balls of newspaper, which she secured in place with duct tape across the top, laughing at her own ingenuity and way of keeping any spiders or creepy-crawlies at bay. She unfolded the airbed and pumped it up, covered it with a sheet, pulled the duvet cover on and the pillowcases, and for a moment she almost collapsed onto it. Cleaning the apartment, packing up, and now this, had taken most of her energy and all of a sudden the prospect of doing anything else seemed insurmountable.
Relieved to hear a knock at the door, she leaned her head out of the window in the bedroom. ‘Owen, is that you?’
The figure down below stood away from the front door to show that her guess was right and he waved up at her. She galloped down the stairs and went to greet the man who’d become a good friend. He’d been kind enough to offer his services for renovations, having come to the end of a job only last week and without another lined up for at least a month.
‘It’s as great as I remembered,’ he commented as soon as he stepped inside. He put his shades up on top of his head. ‘I almost fought you at auction for it.’
‘Is that so?’
He shrugged. ‘I thought about it, but no. I could tell when you got in touch that you were in love with the place and I couldn’t do that to you.’
‘Well I’m glad you didn’t. Did you watch the auction?’
‘No, too busy putting in a new kitchen for someone up in Healesville.’
‘You’re a busy man.’ She smiled. ‘That’s why I really appreciate you doing this for me.’
‘Hey, it’s my job – and working with someone I actually like has its benefits. The client I have at the moment is a hoverer. Tells me what to do, hangs around supervising.’
‘That must be annoying.’
‘I’m all for the client giving their input, it’s kind of essential. But when they follow me too closely, it’s as though they don’t trust me to do the work properly.’
Carrie thought back to Lachlan’s warning not to get ripped off with the renovations and already she was glad Owen was someone she knew and could trust.
‘Nothing like a blank canvas.’ Owen looked around again, touching walls, peering round corners, below windowsills and behind door frames.
‘I can’t even offer you a cup of tea I’m afraid, because I can’t find the teabags.’ She shook her head. ‘Sorry, I’m no hostess. Back in the city, yes, but here – I’m already out of my depth.’
‘No worries. It’s a bit too warm for tea anyway.’
It was. Carrie had thought it was a mild summer’s day but in here without air conditioning, and working away cleaning and trying to make it at least liveable, she was feeling the heat. ‘I do have a few glasses with me. How about a water? The tap works.’
‘Perfect.’ He didn’t follow her into the kitchen immediately. He was too busy looking at the wooden floors and the fireplace more closely. ‘Mind if I go upstairs?’ he called as he appeared in the hallway.
‘Sure.’ They’d discussed the preliminaries and Carrie couldn’t wait to go into more detail once he’d had a really good look around.
‘You’re lucky,’ he said as he returned from investigating upstairs. ‘The windows in this place are all in pretty good condition, and secure, so they won’t need replacing – except you may want frosted glass in the bathroom, but I know someone who can sort that for you.’ He went into the laundry. ‘The glass in this door is weak,’ he said. When she poked her head around the doorway he was feeling a glass panel. ‘I’d get that one done too, for security, although the panels in the door will stop anyone climbing through as they’re so small. Nice touch with the balled-up paper by the way.’
She felt herself blush. He’d seen her handiwork upstairs. ‘Sorry, I just can’t bear the thought of spiders or anything else sneaking in when I’m asleep.’ She shuddered. ‘The additional wildlife around here may take some getting used to. I’ve already noticed the cobwebs in the trees out front, and another flapping away at the side of the house.’
‘You’re such a girl. Once the renovations are done you can get the place sprayed.’
She handed him the water when he came back into the kitchen. ‘Believe me, I will. And I appreciate all the suggestions.’
‘You’re an easy client.’ He smiled at her. ‘Did you order the white goods?’
‘I did. The washing machine is coming tomorrow, plus a fridge freezer, a microwave and a tumble dryer. I appreciate you saying you can work around them.’
‘Easy. The washing machine and dryer can go in the laundry already as the cabinetry is almost non-existent in there. They won’t have to move again. And the fridge freezer can go anywhere in the kitchen and I’ll shift it about as I need to. Find a place for the microwave wherever you can and that’ll be easy to move when we get going.’ He paused. ‘Can I ask you something? Why the rush? Why move in up here and put up with the mess? I know you, remember, and you don’t live like this.’
Carrie shrugged. ‘It won’t be so bad. I can make decisions along the way without racing back and forth to the city; I’ll be here to see the house evolve into something better.’ She wouldn’t tell him that the longer she stayed in the city, the more pressured she felt to go back to the hospital. Camping out in a grotty house and putting up with renovations going on around her would be easier than Lachlan’s gentle, persuasive remarks or his suggestions aimed at helping her but actually doing the exact opposite. Last week they’d had lunch with an old friend of his and when it turned out the man was in Human Resources at the hospital, Carrie knew it was no coincidence. She was seething at being set up – but how could she really be that angry when all Lachlan was trying to do was help?
‘Do you have a laptop here?’ Owen’s question interrupted her train of thought. ‘You’ll need to check out the websites I gave you and make some firm decisions on fixtures and fittings. I know you’ve chosen the main bits for the kitchen and bathroom but it’s all the extras you need to decide on: taps, showerhead, tiles you’d like, et cetera.’
‘I do have my laptop, but no WiFi in the house yet.’
‘The joys of moving.’ He downed the rest of his glass of water.
‘It’s OK, I can use the hotspot from my phone.’
‘Great. Do it sooner rather than later.’
‘I will,’ she promised. ‘I get a surprisingly good phone signal out here.’ She looked at her phone again to see it had the full five dots at the top indicating coverage was the best it could be.
‘Maybe it’s a perk of living at the top of the hill.’ He grinned. ‘I’d forgotten what it’s like to walk up here.’ He sniffed his armpit. ‘I’m gonna need another shower I think.’
‘Yeah, you reek.’ She pinched her nose for effect.
‘Careful, or I’ll leave you to cook meals in that stinking kitchen. Those cupboards are full of grease you know.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ She pulled a face. ‘When do you think you could make a start?’
‘Next couple of days. I’ll rip the kitchen out first, then the bathroom, then the floors, and I’ll do the painting last. You can come over to the cottage when your shower is out of action; Rosie won’t mind.’
‘I hope this won’t make things awkward between you and Rosie.’
‘Because of our history?’ He shook his head. ‘Rosie is absolutely fine about having you around. In fact, she told me to invite you for dinner at the pub tonight, with both of us. You can’t eat here so you have no excuse.’ He looked around and pulled a face, stretched out a hand and trailed his fingers down the grease on the side of the oven. ‘You won’t need to buy any cooking oil – looks like this kitchen comes with its own.’
‘Now I feel ill.’ She passed him a wipe from her handbag.
‘Will you come?’
She smiled. ‘What time?’ She wanted to make sure Rosie was as comfortable with having an ex-girlfriend hanging around as Owen said she was.
‘How does seven thirty sound?’
‘I’ll be there.’
He sniffed his armpit again and made a face as though he couldn’t believe he smelt so bad. ‘I’d better get going and have another shower. Oh, and I’ve spoken to a local guy about the garden.’
She looked out of the kitchen window at the outside space. ‘Jungle more like.’
‘Well, yeah. It’s a jungle now but this guy will give you a reasonable quote to sort it out. I won’t have time to tackle it myself so I’ll stick to the inside and leave him with the outside. You’re entitled to shop around for quotes though. Don’t feel obligated.’
Carrie already knew that unless Owen’s recommended person charged a ridiculous price she wasn’t going to bother shopping around. She didn’t have the energy. ‘If you’re happy with this guy and say he’s reasonably priced, let’s go with that.’
‘Anything for an easy life, eh?’
‘Something like that.’ The fact he hadn’t asked about Lachlan or her reasons behind this move away from her normal life told Carrie that Owen probably suspected there was more to it than what lingered on the surface. But he was good enough not to pry, and that was the sign of a true friend.
He raised a hand to say goodbye at the door and turned before he was out of sight. ‘Got something to tell you later by the way.’ And he tapped the side of his nose.
‘Tell me now!’ she called after him.
‘My lips are sealed!’ And he disappeared behind the bushes to saunter off down the hill.
Shutting the door, she smiled inwardly. Owen had gone from boyfriend to friend and he was one of those people you could go for years without seeing and always know you’d pick up where you left off when you finally did. She didn’t have many close friends – the result of a busy time concentrating on her studies – and already it felt good to know he was in her corner. She wasn’t attracted to him anymore and she knew the feeling was mutual. They’d had their fun and that was that, and soon after things ended between them she’d met Lachlan and hadn’t looked back.
She glanced around the kitchen again. Truth was, she couldn’t wait to see this place ripped apart and put back together with her stamp on it. Lachlan owned his apartment in the city and was forever asking her to move in with him, but she’d always thought if she moved in with someone it would be to a place they chose together, somewhere special.
Her tummy grumbled loudly and she found an apple lurking at the bottom of her bag. It would have to do until dinner time. She leaned against the kitchen sink and enjoyed a brief rest while she ate, then she checked her watch and, with plenty of time until she was due to meet Owen and Rosie, went upstairs to tackle the jobs that still needed doing. She gave the toilet the once-over, put towels in the bathroom and arranged a few toiletries on the shelf behind the bath.
Enthused by the thrill of something that was just hers, she nipped outside and plucked a few stems of lavender from the bush taking over the front path. She put them in a glass, filled it with a little water and set it in the corner of the bedroom. It would be something to lift the aroma of grubbiness and neglect. She sat down on the airbed, amused by the unstable surface and the bounce you didn’t get on a normal bed. And then she opened the diary on the floor and looked at the special photograph inside. This picture was her biggest reason to get away from everything she knew and try to find herself again.
She tucked the photograph away and went to hang the tartan shower curtain up so that she could start getting ready. The shower rod was reasonably new and she hoped it would last until the new bathroom was installed, and already the room looked better with her splashes of colour. She lined up shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, peeled off her checked shirt and put it in the cardboard box by the bedroom door, which would do as a laundry basket for now. She wiggled out of her jeans and put them in the box too, along with her bra and knickers. When a fleeting search for a hook produced nothing, she hung a towel over the bathroom door handle ready to grab.
Stepping into the bathtub, she turned on the taps and when the shower spat out a hopeful amount of nice warm water she stood beneath the flow, letting it fall through her hair and listening to the sound of the drops hitting the enamel surface beneath her. She washed her hair, lathered a grapefruit shower gel all over her body and by the time she’d finished the bathroom was filled with steam. There was no extractor fan so in an effort to clear the room and cool down before she completely overheated, she squeezed out her hair and, before she retrieved her towel, went to fling open the window to get some relief.
But relief wasn’t exactly what she got when she came face to face with a man standing on top of a ladder the other side of the glass, hands cupped around his eyes, peering in.
Carrie screamed louder than she’d ever done before. And then she ducked. Her breathing heavy, she crawled to the door and seized the towel, careful not to let the man see any more of her than he already had. She was in the middle of nowhere and there was a pervert at the window! She’d left her phone downstairs so without even looking to see if the man was still lingering, she fled the bathroom and padded down the stairs as her hair dripped down her back and water from her legs left wet footprints on each step.
In the kitchen she reached for her phone and there was the man again, this time looking in the back door right at her. He had the audacity to knock but there was no way she was opening that door.
‘I’m calling the police!’ she yelled, waving her phone at him and then unlocking it ready to dial.
‘Owen sent me,’ he hollered back at her through the glass.
She stopped, her breathing rapid.
He pointed behind him to indicate the backyard space. ‘To talk to you about the garden.’
She put her phone down and, clasping her towel tighter, opened the door.
‘Thanks,’ said the man. ‘I was beginning to think you’d make me yell like that the whole time.’
She didn’t miss his eyes stray towards where she was clutching her towel around her chest and then down to her bare legs. She bristled. ‘Do you often go round the neighbourhood peering in through unsuspecting people’s windows?’ The start of a smile crept onto his face until Carrie’s glare put a stop to it.
‘I did knock first, but when there was no answer and nobody seemed to be around I thought I’d have a look at the place.’
‘My car’s out front – wasn’t it obvious I was here?’
He shrugged. ‘You could’ve gone for a walk; it’s a beautiful evening.’ When she didn’t fall for his charm he said, ‘You need to get the gate sorted, put a lock on it to stop people like me invading your privacy.’
‘Well you’ve certainly done that!’
‘I apologise.’ His failure to stop the start of a smile suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. ‘I noticed leaves clogging the gutters and with this being a bushfire area I thought I’d clear them while I was here.’
‘I know it’s a bushfire area – I’m not stupid.’ Actually, she had no idea of the precautions you needed to take in a town like Magnolia Creek, and she wouldn’t really have given the gutters much thought had he not mentioned them.
‘I didn’t say you were stupid, but that’s why I was up the ladder.’
For an awkward moment Carrie said nothing. ‘Well, thank you for doing it.’
He leaned against the doorjamb, his muddy forearm against the paintwork. He held out a hand that was just as dirty. ‘I’m Noah,’ he said.
Gripping her towel with one hand, she reluctantly held out her other to meet his. ‘Carrie.’ His grip felt firm, strong.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Carrie.’
Blushing because this man had already seen her naked from the waist up and they were only just introducing themselves, she told him, ‘I’m meeting friends for dinner so I’m not sure I have time to talk now. How about tomorrow morning? I’m free all day.’ Owen had done her a favour by sending this man here so she didn’t want to be rude. And shopping around for a gardener didn’t thrill her in the slightest.
‘Sounds good to me.’ He stopped leaning and clasped his hands together, and Carrie couldn’t help it but her eyes went to the paintwork by the door to see if he’d left it dirtier than it had been before. She couldn’t tell. It was well and truly in need of a clean anyway, like the rest of the place. ‘Mind if I clear the gutters while I’m here with a ladder?’
‘That’s very nice of you. Thank you.’ Was he going to do it without payment? Surely not.
‘You’ll get used to it – out here in Magnolia Creek we like to look after each other.’ Clearly he wasn’t expecting any reward for his labour. He turned to go down the side of the house but turned back briefly. ‘You might want to stay away from the windows if you’re getting changed.’
Without replying she shut the door and scarpered upstairs. She grabbed her clothes and stood in the corner of the bedroom where she couldn’t possibly be seen through any of the windows should he choose to pop up and surprise her again. And by the time she left the house to walk down the hill towards the pub for dinner, Noah was nowhere to be seen.