Page 9 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘Honey, you know you can’t come on business visits like that. I’ll ring Mrs Bridge to see if you can go visit her while I’m out. You can play with the cat.’

‘Please, Daddy!’

When she looked at him like that, his heart melted. Vicki had her mother’s eyes, those same deep blue pools that looked at him as if he was some sort of superhero. As though he could fix anything. Well, he wasn’t and he couldn’t. He had been unable to save the woman he loved from a terrible illness, and every time he looked at his beautiful daughter, he was reminded of that failure.

‘I don’t think so, Vicki. Now, I have some work to do before Ms Johnston arrives, so we have to go back to the office. But you can take your alpaca books with you to visit Mrs Bridge.’

***

When his client arrived a few minutes early, it seemed to Matt the office brightened with her presence. It wasn’t just the brilliant colours of the patchwork jacket she wore or the sparkle of the large number of silver bracelets clinking on her wrists, Bree Johnston seemed to exude energy and enthusiasm and warmth. It was very much like having a small sun walk into the room.

The second person who walked into his office was an older woman who had to be a relative. They were too alike, not only in dress and appearance, but the women radiated the same energy.

‘Matt, this is Rose Fuller, my grandmother. She wanted to have a look at The Gums too.’

Rose’s hand was small, but her handshake was firm. ‘I hope you don’t mind my coming along.’

‘Not at all. Pleased to meet you.’ He hid his excitement. If Bree had brought a relative to look over The Gums, it meant she was seriously considering the purchase. His much-needed sale was looking likely again and that was good news indeed.

As he had on the previous visit, Matt drove to The Gums. Bree and Rose’s inspection of the property was even more thorough this time. He hung back, leaving them to it, but remaining available to answer any questions they might have. There weren’t many. After about an hour, the two women paused out of his earshot for a conversation. His every instinct told him this was the moment when the sale would be made or not. The salesman in him wanted to step forward and do his stuff, extol the virtues of the property one more time, or expand on the advantages of the region. He’d spoken to the owners after Bree’s first visit and they were quite willing to drop the price slightly to make the sale. He should be negotiating with the women. That was his job, what he did with every potential customer. But a small voice at the back of his brain was telling him that Bree was unlike his other customers, unlike most of the people he’d ever met. So he stayed silent, knowing there was nothing he could say that would sway Bree’s mind in one direction or the other.

At last, the women approached him.

‘On the subject of price …’ Bree began.

Matt’s heart sang. He’d made the sale.We’ll be all right for another year, Kim.

‘I have a little leeway,’ he said and the negotiation began.

***

While Bree and Matt haggled, Rose strolled over to sit on the front steps of the house. She sighed with a quiet contentment. This was a good place for her granddaughter. Margaret had been right about one thing. Rose had actively encouraged Bree to break away from a life that she—‘hated’ was perhaps too strong a word—but a life she was never going to find fulfilling. And this place had a good feel to it. Margaret had always scoffed at Rose’s belief that some places were simply waiting for the right person to come along. Bree never had. Rose loved her daughter, but had never understood where her tight, unemotional side had come from. Certainly her father had never been like that. A brilliant lawyer, William had never lost his gentle side despite the things he’d seen and heard in his work. Margaret had been born without that gentle nature.

Bree, however, was a different matter. Bree was more Rose’s daughter than Margaret had ever been. Somehow, her granddaughter’s free spirit, glorious imagination and creative soul had survived the rigours of her childhood, a fact for which Rose was happy to take some of the credit. Bree had grown into a young woman with a brilliant mind and a great deal of honour.

Rose watched her granddaughter discussing the finer details of the purchase. Bree didn’t need to argue too much about the price—her grandfather had left her a considerable inheritance. Rose was also still part-owner of the family law firm, which brought her in a ridiculously high and undeserved income. She had offered to invest in Bree’s venture, but Bree wanted to go it alone if she could. Just another reason Rose was proud of her, although she’d always be there to back her up if necessary.

Rose watched Bree and the real estate agent shake hands. It was done. She smiled as she got to her feet. Bree was also smiling as she stood, hands on hips, and turned in a slow circle, surveying the place that would soon be hers. Her face was shining.

‘This deserves a celebration,’ Rose announced. ‘Matt, it’s lunchtime and I’m hungry. Is there somewhere we can get something to eat, and maybe a glass of something bubbly to seal the deal?’

‘There’s a very nice pub in the Ridge,’ Matt said through his wide grin. ‘It’s sort of a meeting place for the whole town. If you’re going to be living here, Bree, it’s a good place to start to get to know people. I could take you there now.’

‘That sounds great, Matt. Thank you.’

Rose liked the Wagtail Ridge Hotel the moment she saw it. The two-storey brick-and-timber structure stood on the corner of the main road. Its paint was a little faded, but it looked welcoming, and as they walked up to the main door, Rose heard the gentle hubbub of voices inside. The interior matched the exterior. Not particularly prosperous, but well cared for. The owners had pride in their establishment. That mattered more than new paint or fancy furniture.

‘Bree, Rose. This is Deb Fraser,’ Matt introduced them to the woman behind the bar. ‘Deb and her husband Shane own the pub.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ Deb smiled in a welcoming manner that Rose liked.

‘Bree has been looking at The Gums,’ Matt said.

‘That’s a nice place. It would be good to see it occupied and some horses back in those paddocks again.’

‘Not horses,’ Bree said with a grin.

Deb frowned for a second, then understanding dawned in her eyes. ‘You’re the alpaca lady that Vicki has been on about.’

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