‘No real reason,’ Ella said, shrugging it off as if she gave up her one and only listing every day of the week, as if it didn’t feel like cutting out her heart and handing it over on a plate. ‘I think it’s better for Jake to list it with you.’
And she would always do the best she could for her sellers. Now that she knew Jake had only given her the listing because he didn’t think she was good enough to sell it, it made sense.
Bob’s nod said it all made perfect sense to him too.
He might make the right noises about being a team, but Bob didn’t think she was good enough either. Not really.
* * *
To say Jake wasn’t feeling particularly flash when he got to his office Monday morning was putting it mildly. He felt like shit. He felt like the shit that shit shits on. Nah, he felt shittier than that.
Too many beers with his brother last night. Too many rum and Cokes when they ran out of beers. Too many tears from Abe.
The pair of them had run an emotional marathon, with alcohol at the drink stations instead of water. He was hungover on a whole lot of fronts, and he’d bet Abel felt exactly the same way.
Jake checked his watch. Abe might have surfaced by now for a morning coffee out at the farm. Then again, maybe he was still sleeping it off.
Lucky bastard that he could sleep it off. Jake put his head in his hands and groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.
His office line bleeped, and it was like copping a knee to the ear. Who the hell wanted him now?
Jake picked up the receiver. ‘Yeah, Jen?’
‘Bob Begg is on the line for you, Jake.’
‘Bob is?’
‘Yep.’
What did Bob want? ‘Ah, okay. Put him through.’ The connection clicked as Jenny hung up, and he said, ‘Hey, Bob. What’s up?’
‘Jake,’ said Bob, and his booming voice was like copping a knee to the other ear. ‘About this house of yours … you want me to sell it for you or what?’
‘Which house are we talking about, Bob?’ Jake said.
‘Irma’s house. The one Ella hasn’t sold yet.’
Jake shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing Bob would get to the point. ‘Okay. What about it?’
‘Ella has asked me to help her on the listing.’
Over her dead body. ‘What do you mean, “help her”?’
‘Well, she’s asked if I’d take over the listing. You gave her a ninety-day authority and that expires on Thursday.’
‘Ella hasn’t discussed it with me.’
‘Well, she’s been busy writing up the sale of the Nillson place this morning, so she can’t have got to calling you yet.’
‘Doesn’t sound like she has.’ Jake frowned at his filing cabinet. Ella was giving up the listing? Why hadn’t she discussed that with him? It was only yesterday that he’d seen her.
Bob made a mumble sound, and the conversation faltered. Eventually Bob said, ‘I’m sure Ella will ring you about it. I thought I’d just touch base—’
Bugger this. ‘Actually, Bob, you’ve saved me the trouble of calling you guys. I’m not selling Nanna’s house now. I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Why? Helen’s house next door sets a great price guide for it, not like before. You know, when you were testing the waters.’
‘I’m withdrawing it from sale all the same, thanks, Bob. I’ll let Ella know too.’
‘Jake—’
‘If you could take down the sign, and take it off the internet sites, all that sort of stuff.’
‘Well—’
‘Gotta go, mate. Got another call coming in.’ Jake hung up the phone.
What the heck was that about?
Why would Ella give the listing over to Bob Begg? Bob was the last person she’d want to see sell his nanna’s house.
* * *
‘Mum? Jake’s here,’ Sam called from where he stood at the open front door later that same afternoon. Ella had only just managed to unpack a week’s worth of groceries into the pantry and fridge, and no chance to shrug off the rest of her day.
The second she heard Sam say Jake’s name, adrenalin hit the pit of her stomach like a rubber ball. This was the moment she’d tell him she couldn’t work for him anymore.
She rubbed her palms on her skirt for courage, and tried, unsuccessfully in the end, not to straighten her hair.
‘How was school today, Sam?’ Jake’s voice rumbled.
‘School sucks,’ Sam said, sounding so high-pitched next to Jake. ‘At least on Mondays we have sport.’
Then the pair of them, man and boy, reached her kitchen.
Ella stole one quick look at Jake, then checked again. He had a two-day stubble going on and his eyes, which were normally so smoking intense, looked like they put the closed sign out for the night and shut up shop. ‘You don’t look so flash. Are you okay?’
‘Self-inflicted. And you look gorgeous. So you win.’
‘Eww, yuck. Gross,’ Sam said. ‘Mum, is there anything to eat?’
‘I’ve just been shopping, so yes. There’s fruit. There’s some ANZAC biscuits in the tin in the cupboard.’
Sam rushed to the pantry, and Ella’s gaze stuck on Jake’s face.
‘What happened to you?’ she asked him. ‘Can I make you a coffee? ANZAC biscuit?’
‘Trying to give them up.’ Jake pulled out a chair and sat heavily at the table in the kitchen. ‘Nah. I don’t need coffee. I just need a good night’s sleep.’
Whatever Sam found, he took it back to his room to eat, leaving Ella and Jake alone.
‘You and your brother got on it last night?’
‘Could say that.’
Then he didn’t say anything else.
‘Well, I might make a cup of tea,’ Ella announced. She had to keep her hands busy because her fingers wanted to bury themselves in the back of Jake’s neck and massage away all that bleary tiredness, and that was no good because he didn’t believe in her and she wanted to be angry with him. She needed to stay angry with him for the same reasons she needed
