Chapter Twelve
Sadie
I didn’t give myself time to second-guess this decision. Now that we’re on the road, waiting for a call from any one of the many people we left voicemails for, I realise this is dangerous.
Not because I’ll be spending two hours in a car with Ethan, although why he has to wear that peppery aftershave every damn day is a mystery to me.
What I hadn’t thought through is that it’s now early afternoon. There’s a distinct possibility I’ll be stuck in Bangalay for the night. With Ethan. Oh my, as Judy Garland once said. Because I can’t just leave him there if none of his family turn up. And what do I say if and when his family do turn up? This situation can only be described as fucktangular. But there’s no point whining about it now.
“Is your brother a farmer?” I ask. While I drive I might as well find out what I could be walking into. Also, conversation is a good way to distract myself from the many and varied ways this situation could go belly-up.
“He’s a lawyer. His partner is the local vet in Bangalay. So he works remotely and commutes a couple of days a week. They’re having twins.”
“Wow. That’s exciting. What about your brother and sister that we called?” I so don’t need to know more about Ethan. Because every new piece of information I discover makes him more attractive.
“No, they live in Sydney. Greer is an architect, and Ben is a … well I guess you’d call him an angel investor.”
I’m struggling to think of another safe topic of conversation when the phone rings, and a woman’s voice floats out of the speaker.
“Hey E, what the hell was that message? Call immediately? Wait. Did they find another Egyptian tomb that’s been buried for five thousand years? That is urgent.”
I smirk, but Ethan doesn’t dignify her snide humour with a response.
“Gee. Thank God. Will called. Freyja’s in labour. In Dad’s barn. There’s no time for them to get to the hospital, he said. He’s asked me to round up the fam. Where the hell is everyone?”
“Oh, my God. Mum and Dad had that play they’ve been looking forward to this afternoon, so their phones are probably off. Josh is at a client off-site all day. No idea where Ben and Ro are.” Even over the car speakers, you can hear the anxiety in her voice.
“Right. I’m on my way to Bangalay now. Can I leave it to you to round everyone up and meet me there?”
“Of course. This is so exciting!” As well as anxiety, I can also hear the joy in his sister’s voice.
“We could probably do with slightly less excitement. The giving birth in the barn bit seems like overkill,” Ethan counters in his trademark dry tone. He’s not wrong.
“Nah. This is Freyja we’re talking about. She’ll be taking it all in stride. And Will has delivered enough calves in that barn to know what he’s about.”
I can’t hold back a shout of laughter. I don’t know her, but I’m sure Freyja won’t take kindly to being compared to a cow. Ethan’s family sound like good value. Sigh.
“Who was that? Is someone in the car with you?”
Ethan rolls his eyes, and I notice his pupils are still enormous.
“Yes, Sadie’s driving me. I’ve had those drops in my eyes, and I’m not allowed to drive for at least three or four hours.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Sadie, huh?” When Ethan says nothing, his sister continues. “Okay then, I’ll get everyone together and let you know when we’re on the road. Keep me posted on progress.”
“What’s with the E and Gee?” I ask when the call ends.
“Childhood nicknames. None of us like them, but none of us are willing to give up using them on each other. So they’ve stuck.”
My heart melts a little. It’s clear Ethan and his siblings are close. I always wanted to be part of a bigger family. Dad’s daughters from his first marriage won’t even acknowledge the existence of my brother and me. Since he divorced Mum, Dad hasn’t been married to anyone long enough to have more children. Which is probably just as well. As father’s go, he’s a great … yeah. I’ve got nothing. At all.
So it’s just my brother, Liam, and me. You’d think growing up in such a fractured household we might’ve stuck together, been there for each other. But the opposite happened. I’ve tried to reach out to him over the years, but he’s happy bro-ing it up with his mates. He doesn’t have any interest in his nerdy older sister.
He also doesn’t understand why I followed Dad into a career in ancient history. Being four years younger than me, he doesn’t remember the early years with Dad. When he would tell me stories of the Ancient Egyptian legends. Show me pictures of the spectacular tomb and temple paintings. Explain the stories and the hieroglyphs in the papyri he had on his study walls. And tell me all about the adventures of his digs. It was the only genuine connection we had.
To me, Dad was a real-life Indiana Jones. Minus the fear of snakes. Liam doesn’t remember the days before Mum and Dad’s relationship became so toxic we were all walking on eggshells. Until Dad walked away.
For better or worse, he ignited a lifelong passion in me for all things Egyptian. Okay, I’m self-aware enough to understand that following him into a career in academia is a big middle finger to the man who abandoned me without a backward glance. At least it’s a productive outlet for my anger. I didn’t turn to booze and party drugs like my brother. All I can hope is that one day, Liam gets the help he needs to deal with his pain.
Right now, I need to get out of my head and concentrate on the road. And on the potential drama we might be walking into. Having babies in a barn is no joke.
“Is this the first grandchild? I mean, children?” I ask as we exit the main motorway south onto a road that takes us over the hills towards the coast.
“No. My brother Ben has a little boy—Andrea, and Greer is pregnant with their first. Although, keep that to yourself. She doesn’t know we know about it yet.”
I mime zipping my lips, and for the first time since I met him at the optometrist Ethan cracks a small smile.
I settle in to enjoy the pleasure of driving a car that doesn’t lurch every time it changes gears. That has heated leather seats and that delicious new car smell. Ethan’s phone connected to the sound system as soon as we got into the car, so I turn up the volume. It’s a fabulous playlist, full of some of my favourite bands, including Seraphina Cloud, who were playing at the pub the night we met. So I hum along, trying not to think too hard about being flung into the middle of Ethan’s family on such an emotional occasion.
We make phenomenal time, considering it’s midafternoon on a weekday, and before I know it Ethan is directing me to turn right up Bangalay Mountain Road.
“Take it carefully; it’s steep and very windy.”
He’s not wrong. Hairpin after hairpin holds my concentration. It’s a shame because I’ve never been down this way before, and the quick glimpses I’m getting of the views are awesome.
It’s impossible not to notice the closer we get to the destination in the satnav, the thicker the tension in the car gets. Ethan is wearing his best poker face, but his shoulders are tense, his knuckles white as his hands clench on his knees. Knowing someone he loves is giving birth to babies in a barn would be worrying, but I get the sense there’s more to it than that.
Finally, we turn onto a short dirt road. Ethan gives me a code to punch into a keypad beside the gate, and rather than turn right towards the house he directs me to the left, where there are a couple of barns at the bottom of a steep hill. Even in the relatively tight confines of the car, his whole body seems to angle away from the rolling green paddocks to the right of the house.
We get to the bottom of the hill and a closed paddock gate. Ethan gets out and fumbles with the gate latch, closing it behind me as I drive through, and then we're bouncing along a rutted track to where a couple of battered farm trucks and an ancient VW are parked. A massive blond guy and a woman in a wildly colourful, tie-dyed dress lean casually against the tailgate of a truck with a faded insignia for Bangalay Vet Clinic on the door as though nothing in the world could be amiss. Which is a good sign, I guess.
“Where are they?” Ethan asks as I park and we climb out of his car. “Is everything …” He doesn’t finish the thought.
“They’re inside. It’s all good. We’re just giving the new family a few minutes to bond,” says the woman. “You must be Ethan. We haven’t met. I’m Diana.” And she takes both his hands in hers. It looks strangely like a benediction. Ethan seems momentarily stunned, which is most unlike him. But he was raised right, there’s no question about that.
“Diana, Paul, this is Sadie. Sadie, Paul is Mum and Dad’s farm manager, and Diana is a friend of Freyja’s.” His eyes flick to the partially closed door of the barn. “So, the babies are here? Everyone’s okay?”
“Yep. Safely and efficiently delivered by their dad. Twenty fingers and twenty toes. I think Will’s in the worst shape of anyone, to be honest.” Paul drawls with a lazy smile that suggests he didn’t have a moment of doubt all would be well.
As if on cue there’s a loud wail from inside the barn, followed by laughter and, strangely, or not so strangely, the mooing of a cow.
Ethan looks unsure what to do, and I swear his eyes are suddenly glassy, so I give him a nudge.
“He called you. He wanted you here.”
We exchange a quick glance, and then he disappears through the door, hand braced against the wall of the barn in deference to his still-blurry vision.
“So, Sadie, how long have you and Ethan been together?” Diana asks.
Paul snorts.
“Oh, we’re not together. I just drove him down because he’d had drops …” My explanation peters out at the expression on her face.
“Hmm,” she says, with a look that reaches right inside my head, rummages around and finds what it’s searching for. “There seems to be a pattern with this family. Don’t worry. You’ll work it out.” She pauses, head tilted, eyes unfocussed, before she pins me with that look again. “Oh, and you’ll know when you’ve found it. You’ll hear it calling to you.”
Weird.