chatter. He pointed out the various residences as he hurtled the ute at breakneck speed along the dry, dusty road.
‘That there belongs to the Hunts, a beaut family. Just had a baby, a little fella, so no doubt youse’ll be seeing them soon. And the land from now till the crossroads belongs to the Rosses.’
Olivia looked at the vast acreage and huge brick residence, far more formal than the weatherboard homes they had passed.
‘They own a lot of land—mind, not as much as the doctor. Their daughter Charlotte is a model, well, that’s what she calls herself anyway, I could think of a few other things.’ He looked over at her, awaiting a response, but Olivia didn’t rise to the bait. She wasn’t interested in gossip. ‘Charlotte’s forever flitting in and out. One minute London the next Italy. She’s supposed to be living in Sydney, but manages to put in an appearance here often enough and grace us with her presence. She’s out with the doctor tonight—that’s why he couldn’t meet you.’
‘Really?’ Despite her earlier disinterest, Olivia sat up, suddenly intrigued. How rude. Surely he could have taken a night off from romancing someone young enough to be his daughter to welcome a new colleague.
‘It’s no business of mine, but she’s a bit touched.’ Dougie tapped his head and laughed. ‘Clem wanted to come and meet youse himself but Charlotte rang with yet another “emergency” and of course he ends up running off to sort her out. Charlotte’s a bit of a drama queen, if you know what I mean.’
Olivia knew what he meant all right. Wasn’t that Lydia’s game? Playing the helpless female, waiting for Jeremy to dash to her rescue. Olivia swallowed hard. While she had been bending over backwards to make their relationship work he had been rushing around comforting Lydia for every trivial hiccup or imagined problem that came her way.
‘We’re coming up to the surgery now.’
Night seemed to have fallen in a moment, with no dusk to ease it in. Through the darkness Olivia could make out a huge rambling federation-style house with an array of plants hanging from the turned veranda posts. Dougie drove slowly past, the ute crunching on the gravel driveway. ‘That’s the doctor’s house. The front of it is the surgery and he lives in the back part—it’s pretty big.’ He drove on for a couple more minutes and brought the truck to a halt. ‘This is you.’ He gestured to a pretty weatherboard with a huge veranda. The same array of hanging plants and terracotta pots adorned the entry and a wicker rocking chair sat idle in the front.
‘Just for me?’
‘Yep, all yours. My wife will be in through the week to take care of the cleaning and laundry. She’ll show youse the ropes better than I can.’
‘There’s really no need. I can manage my own cleaning. I’m quite capable—’
‘Sister,’ he interrupted, ‘youse’ll be busy enough without running around doing housework. Anyway, don’t be doing me missus out of a job.’ He spoke roughly but his eyes were smiling.
‘Oh, well, if you put it like that,’ Olivia replied.
Dougie brought in her luggage as Olivia inspected ‘home’, her shoes echoing on the gorgeous jarrah polished floorboards that ran the length of the house. The lounge was inviting with two soft cream sofas littered with scatter cushions and a huge cream rug adding warmth to the cold floor. Someone thoughtful had arranged a bowl of burgundy proteas on the heavy wooden coffee-table. A huge open fireplace caught her eye. Olivia doubted whether she’d need it for, though dark outside, the air still hung heavy and warm.
‘There’s some red gum chopped. Ruby will set a fire up for you tomorrow. It still being spring, we get the odd chilly evening, though not for much longer. There’s a fan heater in the kitchen cupboard, youse’ll need that in the morning to take the chill off.’
Olivia smiled. ‘It’s a lovely house, beautifully decorated.’
‘That was Kathy’s work.’
‘Kathy?’ Olivia questioned.
‘Yep, Kathy—Clem’s wife, or rather late wife. She loved decorating. Spent weeks on this place, painting, stencilling, finding bits of furniture here and there.’
He spoke in the same casual manner but Olivia could hear the emotion in his voice.
‘Anyway...’ he gestured to the kitchen ‘...there’s plenty in the fridge and cupboards to get you started. Ruby will be over in the morning to take you to the surgery. We don’t want you feeling awkward on your first day.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’
Dougie waved his hand dismissively. ‘No worries. I’ll leave youse to get settled in but, mind, if you need anything there’s our number by the phone in the kitchen.’ With a cheery wave he was off.
Olivia noticed he didn’t even close the front door, just the flyscreen. This obviously wasn’t the city, but old habits died hard. Olivia closed the door and turned the catch. A pang of homesickness hit her but, determined not to feel sorry for herself, she set about unpacking, until finally, with every last thing put away, she put the suitcases into the study wardrobe. This was home for now.
Peering in the fridge, Olivia smiled. There was enough food to last a month—a dozen eggs, bacon as thick as steak, milk, cheese. The pantry was just as well stocked. Tackling the Aga, Olivia put the kettle on. She’d earned a cup of tea and then she’d go straight to bed. The day seemed to have caught up with her all of a sudden.
A sharp knock on the door made her jump. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was edging on ten. Tentatively she opened the heavy door. Leaving the flyscreen closed, she peered at the large figure outlined in the darkness, trying to sound assured. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Olivia?’
‘You are...’ she said questioningly.
‘Jake Clemson, but everyone calls me Clem.’
Olivia blushed, fumbling with the catch. ‘Please, come in.’ He was her new boss and she was treating him like some madman from the bush.
‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He shook her hand firmly. ‘Welcome to Kirrijong.’
Olivia smiled, taken aback not only by the unexpected friendliness but also by his appearance. Why had she assumed he’d be older? The man standing before her must only be in his thirties. She had imagined some austere, elderly doctor in tweeds. Jake Clemson, standing well over six feet, with battered jeans and an equally well-worn denim shirt, certainly didn’t fit the image she’d had of him. His dark curly hair needed a good cut—he looked more like an overgrown medical student than a GP.
‘I had hoped to meet you myself, but something came up.’
Olivia shrugged. If she had been expecting an apology or even an explanation she obviously wasn’t going to get one. ‘No problem. Mr Kendall was very helpful.’
‘Dougie’s a great bloke. I knew he’d take care of you.’ He peered over her shoulder into the living room. ‘Time for a quick chat?’
Olivia blushed again, suddenly feeling very rude. ‘Of course. Come through—this way.’ It was his house. As if he wouldn’t know where the lounge was she thought feeling silly, but he just smiled.
‘If I know Dougie and Ruby, there’ll be a few stubbies in the fridge. Do you fancy one?’
Nodding, she followed him into the kitchen as he casually opened the fridge and helped himself to the beer. Opening two stubbies, he made his way back to the living room. Obviously, if she wanted a glass she’d better get it herself!
‘So how do you feel about coming to work here?’ he asked in a deep, confident voice with only a hint of an Australian accent.
Olivia busied herself pouring the beer and managing to spill most of it. ‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ she lied. She could hardly tell him she was having a full-on panic attack and wondering