Chapter 38. Six Months Later
SIX MONTHS LATER
Falk stared at the computer screen and scanned the report in front of him, frowning at a couple of the numbers. He clicked open a second spreadsheet to see the corresponding figures, then did a quick calculation in the margin of the notebook in front of him.
Check this, he wrote, circling the results. The office was quiet around him, and he glanced at the time. It was later than he’d thought. Falk rubbed his eyes, switched off the computer, and stood, stretching. He gathered up his keys and stepped out from behind the desk.
“Luna.” He whistled softly, and she followed him out of the office, waiting at Falk’s feet while he locked the door behind them.
The autumn afternoon sun was still bright in the sky as Falk and Luna headed down to the vines in search of Charlie.
Falk had enjoyed watching the seasonal change in the vineyards over the past months.
The harvest had gone well, both Charlie and Shane agreed.
It had been a good year. Falk found Charlie fixing a length of snapped wire on one of the rows.
“Those invoices all look fine,” Falk said, holding the line taut while Charlie wrapped it around. “I’ve marked a couple of items from last month that need reconciling, but I’ll chase them down on Monday.”
“Great, thanks.” Charlie checked the wire, happy. “You heading off?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m finishing up, too. Time for a quick one?”
“Can’t tonight. Joel’s back for the weekend. Girlfriend, too, this time.”
“Oh yeah.” Charlie grinned as they started back up toward the house. “Zara said something about that. The four of them are going for drinks tomorrow.”
“Four of them, as in Zara’s bringing the vet?”
“She is. The vet is still going strong.”
He was a veterinary student intern, technically.
On the advice of her therapist, Zara had decided to defer any plans and take some time out, which Falk thought was probably a wise move.
She’d gotten a part-time job at the local animal shelter and kept bringing her work home with her, to Charlie’s ongoing frustration.
He never said no, though, and their back hallway now sported a line of food bowls.
Zara had slowly grown friendly with the student vet, whom Falk and Gemma had found to be both kind and competent when he’d checked Luna’s teeth.
For the young bloke’s part, he seemed thoroughly thrilled to have Zara keeping him company during his yearlong placement.
Zoe, now eighteen months old, was living with a local foster family who took her to playgroup and the park and dressed her in clean clothes in Kim’s favorite colors.
They brought Zoe to visit the vineyard every other day.
Charlie and Zara had sat down and discussed things carefully and both been of the same mind, and Charlie was now working his way through a long and complex family court process.
Gemma, who’d had to jump through a few custody hoops for Joel after Dean’s death, had put Charlie in touch with her lawyer, who seemed quietly confident.
“All right, mate, have a good weekend,” Charlie said to Falk now as they reached the drive. “See you guys on Sunday night?”
Falk nodded. The family barbecues at the vineyard had become a regular six-weekly event, when Raco and Rita would pack up the kids and drive over from Victoria for a few days. The schedule was dictated by Raco’s rostered time off and marked in pen in everyone’s diaries.
“Yep, see you then,” Falk said, and raised a hand goodbye to Charlie before setting off with Luna down the drive. He walked to and from work these days.
Falk had returned to Melbourne last spring, given it two weeks to see if he still felt the same, then handed in his notice at the AFP.
The response from his superiors had been mild disbelief followed by genuine surprise.
There had been a series of conversations encouraging him to reconsider.
He’d appreciated it, but hadn’t changed his mind.
In the end, still incredulous, they had proposed an option of a year’s unpaid sabbatical leave.
“That sounds pretty fair,” Gemma had said. “Maybe take it, if they’re offering.”
“It feels a bit one foot in, one foot out,” Falk said.
“Well, you don’t have to look at it like that.
” She’d smiled on the phone screen. She’d propped it up near the couch in her living room, and through the door behind her, Falk had been able to see Joel studying at the kitchen table and the leftovers from dinner on the counter.
Falk had been alone in his flat, the room so silent he could hear the cars passing on the road outside.
The urge to be in Marralee instead was like a steady, dull ache.
“I miss you,” he’d said.
“Yeah, me, too. Looking forward to seeing you.” She’d glanced over her shoulder. “Joel’ll be happy to have you around, as well. So thank you again, by the way, for—” She laughed. “You know, upending your whole life to give this a shot.”
He’d smiled at her. “I’m happy to.” He meant it.
“I know,” Gemma said. “But there’s no point pretending this isn’t a really big change.”
“So, take the sabbatical?”
She’d shrugged, then nodded. “I think it depends on what feels right to you. But there’s no harm in keeping your bridges intact. Just in case.”
So that door remained open, for now, but Falk found he never even glanced at it.
Instead, he went for long walks, wandering hand in hand with Gemma, Luna at their heels.
Every day at the vineyard was different, and absorbing the layered operations that wove together to form the business was challenging and engaging.
There was plenty to be done, both indoors and out, and Falk had always been a fast learner.
Shane had not had to touch a spreadsheet for months and remained deeply grateful.
Falk often stayed for a drink with him and Charlie before heading home, beer for them, ice water for Shane.
Falk had lived in the guesthouse on the vineyard at first, he and Gemma both agreeing it was better to take things slowly.
She’d helped him unpack, sitting on the bed and leafing through his favorite novels.
She’d borrowed a couple he’d recommended and invited him back to her place for dinner.
Falk had turned up, then barely left. After two months, they’d given up the pretense, and he’d packed up his belongings and books once more, driven to the cottage, parked under the shade of the eucalyptus trees, and moved in for good.
Falk had learned his way around her kitchen, and he and Gemma spent early evenings opening and shutting drawers and passing each other sieves and pans and wooden spoons.
He found out her favorite things to cook and had a crack at them himself with increasing success.
They listened to music and opened good bottles of local wine and ate together at the table with the doors open to let in the warm night air.
Afterward, they’d sit on the veranda tackling the cryptic crossword online and watching the summer evening glow turn into night.
Sex was regular and enthusiastic. He wore jeans to work. He shaved once a week.
Falk walked home now with Luna along the back roads, pausing as he passed the park and the oval.
Shane had been on holiday from the vineyard for the past fortnight, and Falk could see him kicking a football around with Naomi’s three kids.
She was lounging on a nearby bench, beautiful in her autumn jacket and dark jeans, half watching, half scrolling idly through her phone.
She smiled and raised a hand as she spotted Falk, and he wandered over to join her.
“Hey.” She shifted up to make room. “You’ve reminded me, I’ve got Joel’s sleeping bag to return. I’ll drop it by this weekend.”
“I don’t think there’s any rush,” Falk said. “How was the big camping trip?”
“It was good, thanks.” Naomi smiled as her eyes followed Shane across the oval. “I mean, not the camping itself, obviously. That was bloody hideous. But the trip was fun. Kids enjoyed it. Shane and I had a nice time.”
“Great. Glad it’s going well,” Falk said.
“Yeah.” Naomi certainly looked happy these days. “I’m sure Shane’ll have a few choice stories about camping to fill you all in on at the Sunday barbe—”
“Hey!” Shane slowed as he ran past, three kids trailing him. He pointed at Falk. “You. Don’t forget, training starts Monday.”
“Yep, mate. I remember,” Falk called back, but Shane had already gone.
“Looking forward to it?” Naomi said.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you worried your footy skills won’t be up to scratch and the other boys will make fun of you?”
Falk laughed. “Yes, obviously, Naomi. That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“It’s a team of middle-aged men raised on wine and cheese. Trust me.” She patted his arm. “You’ll be more than fine.”
Joel was out in the back garden when Falk got home, swinging gently in the hammock with his arm around a girl.
They were barefoot and lying on their backs, her long hair splayed out, talking softly together and gazing at the clouds.
Gemma was absently stirring something on the stove while looking up the answers to yesterday’s crossword.
“That ten-letter one was antipodean, by the way,” she said, leaning over to kiss him as he put his keys on the counter. “Which is so annoying. We should have gotten that.”
“We really should have.” Falk looked over her shoulder to see for himself, then nodded at the stove. “You need help here?”
“No, all good. Go out and meet Molly.” She nodded toward the teenagers outside. “She’s very nice. And it’ll put Joel out of his misery. He’s desperate for you two to hit it off.”
Falk laughed. “I’m sure we will. Not that it’ll matter. He obviously likes her; he’s not going to care what I think.”
“You don’t think so?” Gemma said mildly as she stirred and continued to scroll through the crossword answers.