Chapter 7
By mid-morning Chelsea needed to get away.
So much for the bathrooms being easy. She’d found the rubber duck and other bath toys she’d played with as a child tucked away in the back of one cupboard.
She’d loved bath-time as none of the rentals she’d lived in had had baths.
It felt so exciting to splash around at night after spending hours in the garden.
As she’d grown older it had been completely decadent to soak in the bath reading a book. She’d looked for an apartment with a bath in Sydney but it had been beyond her budget.
Then there was the poem hung above the sink about keeping the bathroom tidy. To this day she often recited it in her head when she cleaned her own bathroom.
In the end she’d cleared out both bathrooms as fast as she could, keeping only toiletry supplies which were still good, and the rubber duck.
Then she’d cleaned both top to bottom, getting rid of dust, grime and old soap scum. Removing all traces of Aunt Maggie.
The thought was enough to have her hauling the bags downstairs, needing fresh air and distance from the house.
She didn’t have enough bags to justify a run to the nearest op shop, but she didn’t care.
At the front door she paused, hand braced on the wall, head hanging, giving herself a second to breathe. In the background, the hedge trimmer which had been buzzing most of the morning fell silent. Ethan was another issue she refused to think about.
Unable to stop her curiosity, she glanced out the window, but she couldn’t see what Ethan had been up to.
Perhaps if she was fast, she could get to her car without running into him.
Which reminded her she had to check where Aunt Maggie’s car was. She’d only hired the car for a few days so she could figure out how long she would be here, and had been planning to use Aunt Maggie’s car for the rest of the time.
She opened the door and the warmth of the day flowed in, making her pause.
At this time of day, Aunt Maggie would have had tea and biscuits ready and be taking them out to Ethan so they could have a break. Often they’d sit at the table under the pergola in the shade and talk about what needed to be done, or their plans for the afternoon.
It had been a soothing ritual and had given Chelsea the opportunity to speak to Ethan before they had started dating.
She smiled at the memory of her nervous teen self, and how massive her crush on Ethan had been.
She shook her head. Chelsea wasn’t Aunt Maggie, and she hadn’t decided whether she wanted to spend more time with Ethan. He jumbled her insides and brought back memories she would rather have forgotten.
But perhaps she should offer him a glass of water. It was autumn, and the sun still had an occasional bite to it.
Her gaze shifted to the wild garden. Johann had been in it for the long game if he’d contacted Darren a year ago. But the question was, why? Why wait so long to make an offer? Anybody could have expressed interest in the meantime. They could have sold it to a local.
Perhaps he’d tried to buy the property straight after Maggie’s death. They wouldn’t have considered anything then, too caught up in grief by Maggie’s unexpected passing. She would have to ask her mother.
There were also the permissions he needed. Had he been in discussions with the council about the retirement village? She needed to know more. Perhaps she’d drop by the council while she was out.
Then she’d call her mother and discuss the situation.
She glanced at the bags by the door. She’d heard glass break when she’d dropped one of them, and if it cut the plastic, she didn’t want anything leaking into the hire car.
She headed for the key hooks inside the pantry and scanned the bunches of keys until she spotted the one with the Sydney Opera House key ring.
Grabbing the bundle, she headed to the barn and hesitated outside the open door. Ethan stood next to a white four-wheel drive, drinking from a large water bottle. His shirt was darker in spots from sweat and his skin glistened.
She swallowed, ignoring the shot of lust which swept through her body. As she debated whether to come back later, he spotted her and smiled. “Taking a break?”
Chelsea held up the keys as she struggled to find words and ripped her gaze from him. “Looking for Elsie.” Aunt Maggie had a habit of naming inanimate objects. The LandCruiser was parked further inside, next to Ethan’s car.
“I’d be surprised if she starts, but I’ve got jumper leads if you need them.”
Chelsea nodded and then screwed up her nose. “Should I take it to a mechanic before I drive it?”
“Aunt Maggie always kept it well-maintained, and it’s been sitting out of the weather. I can check it over if you want, but it should be good to get you around town.”
He moved closer, and she hurried towards the car, not wanting to be near while he looked so sexy. She unlocked the door and slid behind the steering wheel, slotting in the key.
It was a manual, and she hadn’t driven a manual car since she got her licence. She put it into neutral, already second-guessing using the car. Then she turned the key.
Silence.
Ethan smiled. “Battery’s dead. If you wait there, I’ll get my cables.”
No. She didn’t need the extra stress of gears while he was watching. Sliding out of the car, she said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it later. Glad it’s still here.”
“If you leave me the keys, I’ll fix it. Are you heading out?”
She tossed him the bunch. “To the op shop.”
“Have fun.” His smile sent warmth through her and she ignored it as she hurried back to the house. She would not be distracted by him.
By the time she arrived at the op shop, Chelsea had tucked all her emotions away where they belonged. She recognised the older woman volunteering behind the counter with her dyed brown hair and floral blouse.
She searched through her memory for a name. “Mrs Britza,” she greeted. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
The woman frowned as if trying to place her.
“I’m Chelsea McGinnis. Maggie McGinnis’s great-niece.”
The woman pressed a hand against her heart. “Have you come to clear out Maggie’s things?” She gestured to the bags Chelsea held.
The pang of grief was never far away. Chelsea nodded. “Yes. I arrived yesterday.”
“We were all disappointed when you didn’t keep up Maggie’s garden.” She peered over her glasses, judgement in the stare.
Chelsea refused to feel guilty. “Actually Mum hired Darren Whaley as groundskeeper, but he took the money and did nothing.” Word would spread about Darren’s actions, and he deserved all the censure.
Mrs Britza raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”
Chelsea debated for a moment before saying, “Yes. A property developer paid him fifty thousand dollars to let it die.” Hopefully Johann would have opposition to anything he tried to do in the town. She smiled. “I’d better get back to it. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”
“Of course, my dear. Tell me if you need a hand. I’m sure there are many people around town who would be happy to help. Maggie was always there for us.”
Chelsea remembered the times when she’d help her aunt bake food for fundraisers or to feed volunteers who were fighting fires or searching for missing people. “Thank you.”
She took a deep breath as she walked outside into the fresh morning air, shaking off the judgement. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and looked up the location of the council building. Next stop was to get some answers.
The sliding doors slid open with a ding as Chelsea walked towards them. A woman who looked to be in her forties manned the reception desk. She smiled as Chelsea approached. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to somebody in the planning department.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. I was hoping they could answer some questions about the process of developing land in this area.”
The woman clicked keys on the keyboard. “Leyton’s in a meeting. I can take your details and get him to call you?”
Chelsea hesitated. She wanted to watch the man when she questioned him, analyse his reaction. “Perhaps I can make an appointment.” A blonde woman about Chelsea’s age came out of an office as the receptionist said, “Name?”
“Chelsea McGinnis.”
“I thought it was you!” the woman from the office declared.
Chelsea turned. The woman’s blonde hair was styled short, and she wore a charcoal grey skirt suit with a white shirt bearing the council logo. But it was her wide grin which sparked a memory in Chelsea. “Lauren?” She grinned in surprise.
“Yeah. It’s been ages.” Lauren stepped forward to hug Chelsea as if they’d seen each other yesterday.
Chelsea hugged her friend back. Lauren had lived down the road from Lilydale Cottage when they were kids and they used to play together.
Chelsea had confessed her crush on Ethan to Lauren, and Lauren had created opportunities for her to see him, such as inviting him to go swimming with them at the Honeybrook lake.
Chelsea had seen her briefly at Maggie’s funeral, but they hadn’t caught up. She hadn’t realised Lauren still lived in town.
“What are you doing here?” Lauren asked.
“I’m packing Aunt Maggie’s things.”
Lauren’s face fell. “I’m so sorry. We all miss her dearly.”
Chelsea nodded. Maggie had been an integral part of the Honeybrook community.
Maybe Lauren could answer Chelsea’s questions. “What do you do here?”
Lauren laughed. “I’m the mayor.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened, and she grinned. “Congratulations. How long?”
“It’s my first month,” Lauren admitted. “I’m still getting my head around everything.”
“Perhaps you can help me.” Chelsea explained what had happened with Johann and Darren, and Lauren’s mouth dropped open.
“I haven’t seen or heard anything about a retirement village.” She turned to the receptionist. “Have you, Robyn?”
Robyn shook her head. “Only the rumours around town.”
Lauren walked towards her office. “Come in and I’ll look it up.”