Chapter 28
Australia
‘Seven a.m. and we’re already winning,’ I said to Max, sending a sheet of address labels to print from the laptop in front of me.
The dog and I were on the veranda. I’d processed the online orders that had come through overnight while he dozed under the table, one eye permanently open on the lookout for approaching vehicles and people to make friends with.
Today was officially the last day of the harvest. There was only one small parcel of vines still to pick.
They were in the shadiest spot in the vineyard, Jono had explained, and always the last to ripen.
This season’s harvest had been the best since before the bush fires, and Jono said that there was a feeling across the Hunter Valley that the yield was going to produce some amazing wines.
He deserved his success after the months he’d had.
I knew only too well how hard it was to get up each morning and get going when life did its best to throw you off course.
As well as harvesting coming to an end, today was officially my last day at Ruby Creek. My two weeks were up, and in theory I’d be heading back to Sydney tomorrow.
My last few days had flown by in a blur of fresh air, warm sunshine, starry nights spent on the veranda with Jono, Daisy and Max, and the blissful sleep of someone who was living her best life.
Each day we picked grapes until mid-afternoon, at which point the pickers were sent home and work began in the winery.
Jono’s two presses were at full capacity.
The grapes were pressed and juice pumped into the waiting stainless-steel tanks.
He was working well into the evenings, anxiously checking the grape juice, taking samples and cataloguing every detail.
Other people had begun to turn up at Ruby Creek to help him: members of the Ruby Creek club who owned a stake in the vineyard, friends of Jono’s he’d known since school, and even his cousin and her husband – all coming to lend a hand at the busiest point in a winemaker’s calendar.
The longer I was here, the more I was able to help. From selling direct at the cellar door, and updating the winery’s website, to preparing bedrooms in the main house for visitors. I felt part of the Ruby Creek team and I was going to miss them all so much.
Should I stay longer? The question played on a loop in my head.
The chemistry between Jono and me was rising with each passing encounter, like the pressure and heat building before a thunderstorm that you know with absolute certainty is heading your way.
We flirted and made eye contact at every opportunity, we deliberately brushed against one another, fingers intertwining briefly and breaking away before we were spotted.
The kiss had changed the dynamic between us.
Now if I stayed I wasn’t sure whether he wanted me as a worker or something more.
And what about my travels? There were still plenty of pages left unturned in Bronte’s book, which meant she had more places she’d wanted to discover.
If I stayed, would there be time to do it all before I was due back at work?
Surely Bronte’s trip should be my priority?
After all, she was the reason I was here to begin with.
‘Maggie.’ Daisy’s voice cut into my thoughts. Her cheeks were flushed, and she checked around before continuing. ‘I need to tell you a secret.’
‘Morning, love.’ I patted the space beside me. ‘Sit down, tell me all about it.’
She reminded me so much of Bronte at that age; full of energy and ideas, veering erratically from worldly-wise one minute to self-conscious and unsure of herself the next.
I often thought about her mother and how sad it was that she and Jono had not been able to work out a way for Daisy to keep in touch.
I’d miss her when I left, and felt a rush of warmth that she knew she was safe to confide her secrets in me.
‘Okay, so here’s the thing.’ She slid onto the bench. Max perked up, nudging her with his nose until she gave him some fuss.
She looked different today. Her hair fell in glossy waves instead of its casual ponytail and there was a pair of sunglasses perched on her head.
She looked cool and stylish, and I could see flashes of the woman she was becoming.
‘You’re not wearing school uniform,’ I said, taking in her jeans and T-shirt.
She dismissed that with a flap of her hand. ‘There’s some travelling theatre coming into school today, doing workshops about diversity. We’re allowed to wear what we want to express our individuality. Best of all, there’s no proper lessons.’
‘Lucky you!’ I smiled at the glee in her eye, remembering how much Bronte had loved school days like that.
Her favourite had been World Book Day. She’d have to pick a character from a book to dress as and I’d endeavour to create an outfit that vaguely resembled it.
I’d grumbled then at the effort I’d have to go to for one day.
Now, of course, I’d give anything to sit up half the night transforming an old sleeping bag into the Very Hungry Caterpillar.
‘Which is why,’ Daisy continued, lowering her voice, ‘today is the perfect day to do what I’m going to do.’
‘Go on,’ I prompted. Alarm bells began to ring.
‘I’m not going to school.’ She chewed her lip. ‘I’ve got it all planned out. I’m getting the train to Sydney to meet Mum.’
‘And this is the secret you want me to keep?’ I said warily.
She nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said on that first day we made breakfast together.
Mum left my dad, not me. So, I thought that maybe she might want to hear from me after all.
I sent her a text yesterday telling her that I needed her.
She sent me one straight back saying how much she missed me and that she’s so sorry about leaving me behind. Isn’t that amazing?’
‘I’m glad you two are in contact again. And the bit about your mum missing you is lovely to hear,’ I agreed, squeezing her hand. ‘But bunking off school and going behind your dad’s back isn’t.’
‘I can’t tell him,’ she said, firmly. ‘He’d try and stop me; I know he would.
I love him, but I love Mum too. She still loves me, but she said she didn’t have any choice about leaving me.
What if she’s regretting it? That’s why I want to see her.
Maybe I can be the one to get them talking again.
Maybe deep down they still love each other.
Imagine if I could get them back together!
Everyone was so much happier before Pierre came to work here. We could be happy again.’
My chest swelled with affection for her youthful optimism. If only life’s issues were so easy to solve. Even if Jono did still have feelings for Andrea, I was sure he’d be wary of letting her back into his life.
‘That’s a lovely thought,’ I said carefully. ‘But your dad was very upset when your mum left with Pierre. His pride was hurt, and he was angry with her for upsetting you. Your mum arranging to see you behind Jono’s back is not the way to go about this.’
‘It’s the only way,’ Daisy protested. ‘It’s not as if I’m missing anything useful at school, and Mum was coming to Sydney anyway. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up.’
I could see how much this meant to her. But what was Andrea thinking to encourage her fourteen-year-old child to lie to her father and travel to Sydney on her own? It was ridiculously irresponsible of her and, if it went wrong, Jono would be even more angry with his ex-wife.
‘You won’t keep my secret, will you,’ said Daisy hotly, getting to her feet. ‘I thought I could trust you, and that you’d be on my side, but you’re like every other adult. You don’t take my feelings seriously.’
Her words hit me like a blow to the stomach. This took me right back to my last conversation with Bronte. I hadn’t listened to her when she’d tried to tell me about her gap year. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice; I wanted to do better.
‘Oh, Daisy. That’s not true,’ I told her. ‘I’m putting myself in Jono’s shoes. You’re the most precious thing in his world. He’d be devastated if anything happened to you. And he’d be furious with me for not telling him where you’d gone – rightly so.’
She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. ‘It’s an easy train ride. Nothing’s going to happen.’
‘That’s probably what Bronte thought the last time she left her house with Harry,’ I said, meeting her eye. ‘The thing is, we never know what’s around the corner. I wouldn’t be being a good friend to you if I didn’t point out the possible dangers of this trip.’
Daisy appeared to consider this for a moment. ‘Fine. Let’s swap numbers. I’ll let you know when I arrive.’
‘Your dad needs to know too. If you won’t tell him now,’ I said. ‘Then at least text him from the train so he knows where you’ve gone. It’ll be too late for him to do anything about it, and he might be angry with you, but at least he’ll have had a chance to calm down by the time you come home.’
She sighed with relief. ‘Cool. Thanks. And it’s the end-of-harvest dinner tonight, so Dad will probably have a few beers. He’ll be so happy and caught up with celebrating that I’ll be back before he even notices that I’ve gone.’
‘What’s the end-of-harvest dinner?’ I asked.
Before she had the chance to reply, the sound of the metal sliding doors on the winery made us both look up and Jono came loping towards us.
‘Please don’t say anything,’ Daisy hissed, clutching my shoulder. ‘I’ll text him, I promise.’
‘Make sure you do.’ I really didn’t want to get involved in this, but it looked like I already was. I hoped I didn’t live to regret it.
‘What are you two looking so serious about?’ He looked from his daughter to me, an eyebrow raised.
‘You haven’t told Maggie about the end-of-harvest dinner,’ Daisy gave him a peck on his cheek and sent me one last pleading look. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘How exciting,’ I said, smiling up at him. ‘What’s the dress code, ballgowns and tiaras?’
‘Not exactly. More like clean feet and a good sense of humour. You’ll love it,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s Daisy’s favourite thing, isn’t it?’
She mumbled something about possibly being late back, avoiding his eye.
‘Can’t wait,’ I said, my stomach twisting uneasily.
The two of us watched as Daisy did her usual sprint down the driveway to catch the school bus. I had an awful feeling that he’d be the one in need of a good sense of humour by the end of today. I already regretted my promise to her and cursed Andrea for putting me in this position.