curtain and stared out at the glimmering darkness of sky and sea.
Back home in Melbourne, people who refused to take responsibility for their actions surrounded him. Hell. They refused to see that there were consequences to their stubborn insistence on — no! He banged his fist once against the glass. Rehashing the situation wouldn’t change it.
Tomorrow, he’d work out the details of JayBay’s purchase with Mick. Leighton’s fraud might have devastated the Freedom family, but from Theo’s perspective it had cut through the prolonged negotiations he’d expected to have with Mick. If they agreed terms before noon, he’d be back in Perth by evening. A late night flight and he’d be at his desk at Brigid Care in Melbourne the day after, in a position to push the lawyers to write up the contract and finalise the deal before next month’s board meeting.
JayBay was concrete proof of his strategy. That’s what the board — all family members — needed to vote on: strategy, not personalities. Because whatever way he viewed things, next month’s meeting could tear his family apart.
***
Cassie stretched luxuriously, waking from the best night’s sleep she’d had in months. Plus, her dreams had been interesting. Theo had starred in them, wearing his motorbike leathers. Her engine had definitely been revved. She laughed, and although she knew Theo was kind rather than interested in her, she took the time to dress in something other than scruffy home clothes: a black tunic patterned in blue butterflies, black leggings and ballet flats.
It was disappointing to walk into a kitchen smelling of toast and coffee, and find it lifeless. She switched off the radio that had been burbling on low and confusing her with the thought that her dad and Theo were there. In the silence, the house felt empty.
They were probably at the factory negotiating JayBay’s sale.
She waited for a pang of loss or anger and found none. Theo could be trusted to manage JayBay and her dad would be free to pursue new projects.
It felt great to see things in a sane, positive light.
In fact, since there was no one home to have breakfast with she’d go into town to have company. The bakery had a café attached and they did a fantastic French toast. Suddenly she was starving.
She nabbed the keys for her dad’s ancient, bush-bashing 4WD, leaving him the modern, comfortable vehicle. Bright spring sunshine flooded the garden, drying the dew on the leaves, while white cabbage moths fluttered in eddying, erratic patterns over the sprawling nasturtiums with their bright-orange, peppery flowers.
The hinges of the garage door shrieked as she hauled it up. Sunlight poured through gaps in the walls where the aged timber had shrunk. The extra ventilation prevented the old building from smelling musty. The garage pre-dated the house. The old fishing shack that had stood on the headland had been demolished. It was beyond salvageable. But the garage had survived. The wooden walls were warped and grey, weathered from the sea air, but solid. Grass and weeds grew along the sides and the yellow of dandelions were dotted among the green.
Cassie enjoyed it all, feeling as if her senses were coming alive again. As she climbed into the ancient 4WD she admitted to herself that maybe she should have confided in someone earlier.
She’d make an appointment with Dr Glendinning before she had breakfast.
The drive into town was short but picturesque. White lambs frisked in green paddocks and the old bridge over the Jardin River was as bumpy as ever. She bounced in the seat of the 4WD with its ruined suspension.
Thirty minutes later she was seated at a red-checked, plastic-covered table with a generous plateful of French toast in front of her.
Mmm . Dipping the toast in its surrounding pool of maple syrup was deliciously decadent.
Locals queuing for bread and cakes knew her and asked questions about JayBay’s future, although tactfully avoiding mention of Leighton. She
Back home in Melbourne, people who refused to take responsibility for their actions surrounded him. Hell. They refused to see that there were consequences to their stubborn insistence on — no! He banged his fist once against the glass. Rehashing the situation wouldn’t change it.
Tomorrow, he’d work out the details of JayBay’s purchase with Mick. Leighton’s fraud might have devastated the Freedom family, but from Theo’s perspective it had cut through the prolonged negotiations he’d expected to have with Mick. If they agreed terms before noon, he’d be back in Perth by evening. A late night flight and he’d be at his desk at Brigid Care in Melbourne the day after, in a position to push the lawyers to write up the contract and finalise the deal before next month’s board meeting.
JayBay was concrete proof of his strategy. That’s what the board — all family members — needed to vote on: strategy, not personalities. Because whatever way he viewed things, next month’s meeting could tear his family apart.
***
Cassie stretched luxuriously, waking from the best night’s sleep she’d had in months. Plus, her dreams had been interesting. Theo had starred in them, wearing his motorbike leathers. Her engine had definitely been revved. She laughed, and although she knew Theo was kind rather than interested in her, she took the time to dress in something other than scruffy home clothes: a black tunic patterned in blue butterflies, black leggings and ballet flats.
It was disappointing to walk into a kitchen smelling of toast and coffee, and find it lifeless. She switched off the radio that had been burbling on low and confusing her with the thought that her dad and Theo were there. In the silence, the house felt empty.
They were probably at the factory negotiating JayBay’s sale.
She waited for a pang of loss or anger and found none. Theo could be trusted to manage JayBay and her dad would be free to pursue new projects.
It felt great to see things in a sane, positive light.
In fact, since there was no one home to have breakfast with she’d go into town to have company. The bakery had a café attached and they did a fantastic French toast. Suddenly she was starving.
She nabbed the keys for her dad’s ancient, bush-bashing 4WD, leaving him the modern, comfortable vehicle. Bright spring sunshine flooded the garden, drying the dew on the leaves, while white cabbage moths fluttered in eddying, erratic patterns over the sprawling nasturtiums with their bright-orange, peppery flowers.
The hinges of the garage door shrieked as she hauled it up. Sunlight poured through gaps in the walls where the aged timber had shrunk. The extra ventilation prevented the old building from smelling musty. The garage pre-dated the house. The old fishing shack that had stood on the headland had been demolished. It was beyond salvageable. But the garage had survived. The wooden walls were warped and grey, weathered from the sea air, but solid. Grass and weeds grew along the sides and the yellow of dandelions were dotted among the green.
Cassie enjoyed it all, feeling as if her senses were coming alive again. As she climbed into the ancient 4WD she admitted to herself that maybe she should have confided in someone earlier.
She’d make an appointment with Dr Glendinning before she had breakfast.
The drive into town was short but picturesque. White lambs frisked in green paddocks and the old bridge over the Jardin River was as bumpy as ever. She bounced in the seat of the 4WD with its ruined suspension.
Thirty minutes later she was seated at a red-checked, plastic-covered table with a generous plateful of French toast in front of her.
Mmm . Dipping the toast in its surrounding pool of maple syrup was deliciously decadent.
Locals queuing for bread and cakes knew her and asked questions about JayBay’s future, although tactfully avoiding mention of Leighton. She
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