Helen and Penny had congregated at the rear of Irma’s block not far from the shed, where they were peeking over the fence into Helen’s property.
‘Can’t believe how big my old fig tree looks from here,’ Helen was saying.
The man who’d asked Ella to open the shed said, ‘See, I’m figuring there’s got to be a gold tomb or something hidden inside here, given the asking price on the place,’ and he winked at his younger mate.
It took Ella a while to find the correct shed key in the bunch, but she had just found it, unlocked the door and propped it open when a sound from the front of the Honeychurch house struck fear to her heart.
‘Ah. There’s a sound always takes me back,’ said the man about to hunt for gold in the shed. ‘Remember the Sydney Olympics? That bit in the opening ceremony with the lawnmowers?’
Oh, did Ella remember. She’d watched that opening ceremony again and again.
So much for the bloody serenity! All the cinnamon sticks in the world couldn’t erase the whining growl of a lawnmower. Or was it a whipper-snipper?
Ella excused herself from the two men and skipped as fast as she could in her heels up the side of the house nearest the Nillsons’ fence.
It couldn’t be Helen mowing her lawn because Helen was right here, admiring the size of her fig tree.
Whoever it was, Ella would politely ask if the person could wait a half-hour longer till the open house was over.
Ella skittered around the corner of Irma’s house, eyes darting everywhere as the roar of an engine got louder and louder. Puffs of dust and grass made a cloud across Irma’s front verge, blowing dirt onto Ella’s beautifully swept porch, and she could hear the plink and pling as little sticks and stones flew off the rotors and stung the Open Now sign she’d so meticulously placed.
Ella juddered to a screaming stop, not sure she believed her eyes.
Jake Honeychurch stood with his legs spread for balance, wearing safety glasses and ear-muffs, working a whippersnipper back and forth between the picket fence and the weeds that decorated the base of the largest gum on the front verge like a skirt.
Between ruining her serenity and whacking the weeds, he was nodding at a couple who’d hesitated at the road, and now stepped back towards their car to avoid the flying dust cloud.
The people were leaving.
What was Jake thinking?
Ella raced up the path, waving frantically to get his attention. Already her pale blue blouse had tiny flakes of grass stuck to it. A stick struck the gate near Ella’s shin and she jumped.
‘Jake!’
‘Jake!!’
Bloody hell.
Ella cast about for some way to get his attention. She needed something to throw …
All the sticks from the gum trees were on his side of the fence.
There was nothing. She had nothing … hold it.
Hopping on one leg, Ella slipped her foot out of her navy heel. She took careful aim, and fired. The shoe landed heel side up in front of Jake and his rotor blade.
Jake’s head popped up. Ella couldn’t see his eyes behind the bulky safety glasses, but his face definitely didn’t look apologetic.
‘I won’t be much longer,’ he said, shouting the way people did when their ears were covered and there was a bloody great engine rattling on.
‘No. No. No, Jake. You have to stop now.’ Ella waved her hands at him.
He sighed like she’d asked him to give up a lung to science, and peeled the ear-muffs off, then the glasses and finally he said, ‘Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?’
‘You can’t do that now! I’m doing the Home Open, right now.’
‘Nobody minds.’
‘Jake, I mind!’
‘It’ll take me another five minutes and I’ll have it done.’ And he made to pull the safety glasses back on his face.
Ella shoved the front gate open, limped across in one shoe to pick up her thrown heel, and shook her finger at him. Unfortunately, she’d picked the hand holding the shoe, which meant she shook her shoe at him. ‘You can’t do it now, Jake. Come back later.’
‘I thought you’d like the place tidied up.’ He thumbed off the operating switch.
‘Of course I want—’ Ella was shouting into the new, beautiful peace of the morning and she lowered her voice. ‘Of course I want it tidy, but that doesn’t mean—’
She wobbled on one leg as she stopped pointing at him, and tried instead to slip her heel on her foot. Jake thrust an arm out to her, and she grabbed it for balance. Got him right on his, oh, actually-rather-large-and-nice-now-she-was-squeezing-it bicep. She ended up hissing at him as he let her go, ‘But that doesn’t mean I want the weeds whipper-snipped right now.’
‘Okay, okay,’ he said, raising his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Hey, Jake,’ said a couple watching as if Ella and Jake were a private theatre show and they had front row seats.
‘Max,’ Jake acknowledged. ‘Lizzie.’
‘Is this a good time? Should we come back later?’ Lizzie said.
Ella and her efficient real estate saleslady charm stepped forward. ‘Of course it’s a good time. The house is open. Please go right in.’
‘We thought we had to come along and see what you’ve got in here, Jakey-boy,’ Max said, as he and his partner navigated around the sign and crossed to the gate. ‘Irma use gold bricks instead of pink batts in the ceiling, did she? Six hundred and fifty thousand …’ he shook his head, and his voice trailed off as he ambled up the path.
‘It’s a great land bank opportunity,’ Ella called after him. ‘Sit on it a couple of years, rent out the house … maybe something for your Super Fund.’
‘Definitely wanna be something super,’ Max agreed, and the couple kept walking.
‘What’s a lamb bank?’ Ella heard Lizzie ask her husband.
For the first time a wry smile lifted the corner of Jake’s lip, sending a crease across his jaw, and when Max and Lizzie had moved beyond hearing
