Rose's Vintage (12 page)

Rose might have been beaten into third place, but she had to admit the two cakes judged better than hers were pretty damn impressive-looking. ‘That's not bad, hey?' she said.

‘Rose!' It was Mrs B. ‘Rose, there you are!' she bustled over to Rose's side. ‘How about that? A third place in your first competition. That's terrific. You even beat Maggie, and she'll be none too pleased about that.'

‘Maggie?'

‘Dan's wife.'

‘Oh.' Rose wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing, but she allowed herself to be a tiny bit chuffed at the rosette, regardless of whom she'd outplaced.

Later that day, as Rose was putting the finishing touches to a shepherd's pie – Leo's request – for dinner, forking the mashed potato down over the mince mixture, Mark appeared in the kitchen.

‘Oh, hi,' she said, flustered at seeing him unexpectedly.
For goodness sake
, she told herself,
stop acting like a silly school-girl.
Mark still intimidated her a bit, and she didn't know quite what to make of him. Once minute he was distant and aloof, the next friendly. She never knew what to expect. ‘Guess what?'

‘What?' Mark's tone was curt and she almost lost her nerve.

‘That cake Luisa and I made, well, it won third place at the Eumeralla CWA competition. Look.' Rose pointed to the rosette, which she'd stuck to the fridge door. ‘Twenty dollar prize too!' she said, unable to keep the pride from her voice.

‘Well, that will have set the old dears talking,' Mark replied dryly.

Rose was a bit deflated by his response. He might have congratulated her.

‘Actually, Rose, I was wondering if you might be able to rustle up some tucker for a few guests we've got coming next week. There's a couple of distributor bigwigs in the country from the UK, plus the wine buyer from Channings, one of the biggest supermarkets; you'd have heard of them, right? Anyway, they're coming to have a look at our chardonnay and the cab shiraz, and I reckon we should give them some lunch as well.' Mark's voice sounded deliberately casual, but Rose had picked up enough since arriving at Kalkari to realise that this visit was a pretty big deal.

Her first thought was that she wasn't up to it. It had been a long time since she'd cooked anything more than very basic dishes. ‘Of course,' she was surprised to find herself saying. ‘What type of food were you thinking of?'

‘Oh, I don't know. Something simple. Hearty. Nothing fancy. Just good country cooking. I'm sure you'll do a fine job if what you've been doing so far is anything to go by. There'll be eight of us. I'll get Dan to drop the wines over so you can taste them and get an idea of what might work flavour-wise.'

Rose's heart beat faster. He was putting a lot of faith in her, and she really didn't want to mess this up. After he had left the kitchen, she turned to the tattered copy of
Gourmet Traveller
that lived on the dresser, but it was a summer issue and so didn't offer much inspiration.
Hmm
. She mentally sorted through the classic French dishes she'd mastered at Le Cordon Bleu. Nothing too fancy. Hearty. Well, that ruled most of them out then. She'd need to make a trip into Eumeralla for provisions too. Next Thursday, he'd said. It was Tuesday today, so that gave her just over a week.

She went to bed that night with ideas swirling around in her head but feeling frustrated that her cookbook access was limited to a couple of old grease-spattered tomes she'd unearthed in the kitchen and that had been published sometime in the last century. What in the hell was she going to cook?

CHAPTER 10

‘B
ugger!' Rose exclaimed to herself, hitching up her jeans for the ninety-ninth time that day.

She had just finished making the kids' beds and was giving the ancient vacuum cleaner a thorough workout, though she suspected it was merely moving the dust around from one place to another rather than actually sucking it up. As she worked, she kept having to stop and put the vacuum down to hitch her jeans up. It was seriously giving her the shits. They were down somewhere below her hips and she was showing a good deal of plumber's crack. Now that Rose's diet was heavy on fruit and fresh veggies and considerably lighter on midnight pie leftovers and raw cookie dough, and now that she was exercising almost every morning, there was plenty of room in her pants, to the point where she really needed to replace them with something that actually fitted. Even her belt was on the tightest hole and really needed a couple more punched in it. With that thought in her head, she went in search of Astrid. Perhaps she'd like a shopping trip too?

Rose found Astrid and Luisa in the small sitting room, Luisa having emptied the contents of a toybox onto the floor. The little dark-haired cherub was searching through the rubble, singing softly to herself.

‘Hey, girls, what's up?' asked Rose.

Astrid wasn't her usual pink-cheeked self; she looked wan and rather fragile.

‘We're just sorting out the toys. Or at least that's what I was trying to do.' Astrid rolled her eyes and smiled weakly at Rose.

‘Are you okay? You look really pale.'

‘Oh, sure, just feeling a bit yuck. Must be something I ate.'

‘Nothing I made, I hope?' asked Rose.

‘Oh no, I don't think so. Everyone else is fine. Maybe it's something I had for lunch yesterday in town, or I might have picked up a bug of the tummy,' Astrid reassured her.

‘That doesn't sound much fun. You poor thing. I came to see if you felt like some retail therapy, but if you're not up to it, maybe another time. I've
got
to get some new trousers,' said Rose, pulling the waistband of her jeans away from her now nearly flat stomach.

‘You do look a bit different than when you first arrived,' Astrid said. ‘Not so much jelly wobble.' She laughed at Rose.

‘Thanks. I think,' replied Rose, not especially offended. ‘Anyway, it's ridiculous. These just keep falling down.'

‘Nice problem for you to have. I think your cooking has had the opposite effect on me. I can hardly do my jeans up anymore,' Astrid grimaced and turned even whiter.

‘If you're not feeling well, why don't you go upstairs and have a lie-down? It must nearly be time for Luisa's nap too, yeah?'

‘It'd be great if you could settle her for me. There's some milk for her here and she likes to be sung to.'

Astrid walked gingerly up the stairs. Rose went to get the milk, then bent down and picked Luisa up in her arms. ‘Come on, my little turnip, let's go and have a lovely nap, shall we?'

Luisa clung onto Rose and snuggled into her shoulder. Rose breathed in the fragrant toddler scent of her, loving the smoothness of her skin, the pillowy-soft cheeks and the spun-silk hair.

Rose struggled to recall any childhood songs, and was only able to come up with a tuneless rendition of ‘Twinkle Twinkle'
.
Singing was definitely not her strong point
,
but Luisa seemed satisfied, drinking her milk and then closing her eyes.

Rose kissed her softly, shut the door gently and tiptoed down the hallway to check on Astrid.

‘You okay? Can I get you anything?' asked Rose, standing outside the door. She thought she heard a sob, so she pushed the door open tentatively. The floor of the room was scattered with possibly even more clothes, magazines and make-up than it had been the first time she'd seen it. Astrid lay on her bed, curled up in a ball.

‘What's up?'

‘Oh, Rose, what have I done?' Astrid wailed. Gone was the bubbly girl Rose had come to know. In her place was someone who looked like they'd just heard the worst news in the world. ‘You can't tell a soul; you must swear you won't.'

‘Cross my heart,' said Rose solemnly, wondering what on earth was up.

‘I think I might be pregnant,' said Astrid in a small voice.

‘Oh my God.' Rose was shocked. ‘Really? Are you sure?'

‘Well, my period is a week late, and I just feel so sick all of the time, and these,' Astrid cupped her breasts, ‘are like rocks.'

‘Have you told Thommo?'

‘Noooo,' wailed Astrid. ‘I can't.' She sobbed even harder.

‘Why not?'

‘But I thought you and Thommo … ?'

‘No, it was just a mad moment, that night after the pub; it didn't mean anything. A hook-up … is that how you say it? What am I going to do?
Gott in Himmel
, I can't believe I'm such an idiot!'

Rose sat down next to her on the bed. She was lost for words, particularly words of advice, and could only pat Astrid on the shoulder in a vain attempt to make her feel better. Had the silly girl not heard of contraception? ‘Perhaps the first thing to do would be to take a test, just to be sure?' she suggested gently. ‘I'm going to head into New Bridgeton tomorrow to see if I can find some trousers that won't fall down around my knees. Why don't I get a pregnancy test for you then?'

‘
Ja
,' said Astrid through her tears. ‘Thank you. That would be good, I suppose. But please, don't say anything to anyone about this, okay?'

‘Of course.'

Astrid looked at her uncertainly.

‘Swear on my granny's grave, okay? I'll not tell a soul.'

‘Thank you, Rose. Again.'

CHAPTER 11

T
he next morning, leaving a peaky-looking Astrid to get Leo organised for school and Luisa ready for her weekly playgroup, Rose set off for New Bridgeton and the shopping centre, which, according to Astrid, promised at least one jeans emporium as well as a couple of chain stores and a few boutiques. As she whizzed past the now green vines that marched in obedient rows across almost every square metre of the valley, she couldn't help think how different it looked from the bleak scene of her arrival. It really was terribly pretty now, and just as the tendrils of the vines were curling along the wire trellises, so the valley was stealing its way into her heart.

She also couldn't help think about the quandary Astrid was in. Rose's own love life was far from perfect – well, in actual fact, it was pretty much nonexistent – but at least she wasn't in that kind of a jam. If Astrid was pregnant, what would she decide to do? Would she – could she – keep the baby? Either way, she had a tough road ahead of her, that much was certain.