Time Will Tell by Fiona McCallum Page B

already hung up.
    Emily stared at the phone for a few moments feeling increasingly annoyed. He’d said he’d wait for her to call him. Yet here he was, less than twelve hours later, calling her for an answer. And not even bothering with any small talk.
    Part of her was glad he’d got straight to the point, but that wasn’t really the issue. It was rude. She clearly meant no more to him than somewhere to put his suitcase.
    Well, at least it was done and she could sit and watch TV in peace.
    But first I am going to quickly ring the Bakers about the house.
    She brought up their number and with a shaking finger pressed Call. It was answered on the second ring.
    â€˜Hello, Donald speaking.’
    â€˜Hi, Donald, it’s Emily Oliphant, over at the old house. Er, merry Christmas,’ she added.
    â€˜And to you. Have you thought about our offer?’
    â€˜I have, and I’d love to accept it.’
    â€˜That’s great news.’ Emily heard a muffled sound, which was most likely him telling his brother.
    She took a deep breath. Now for the hard part.
    â€˜The only thing is, I’d rather not make the first payment until the subdivision has gone through, just in case we strike any problems.’
    â€˜I understand. It would probably be a bit risky for you to go ahead without that certainty.’
    â€˜But I’ve been told it could take up to six months.’
    â€˜I don’t see that being a problem for us. Our trip is almost a whole year away yet.’
    â€˜Oh that’s a relief. Thank you for being so understanding,’ Emily said.
    â€˜And thank you for wanting to take care of the house.’
    â€˜It’s my pleasure. I love it. I’ll let you go now. See you.’
    â€˜Cheerio then,’ Donald said.
    Emily hung up and tried to figure out whether she felt relieved or terrified as a result of officially putting the ball in motion regarding the house. She was shaking a little. It’s a good thing. It’ll all work out for the best. She went back into the lounge.
    â€˜Well, for better or worse I’ve just officially taken up the offer of the house,’ she announced as she entered the room. Jake looked up.
    â€˜That’s great news, well done,’ he said, smiling warmly.
    â€˜Well, time will tell,’ she said, and sat down in the other armchair beside him.

Chapter Eleven
    Emily thought she’d never get to sleep; every time she closed her eyes a disjointed montage of the day’s events flickered in her mind: her call to Donald Baker about the house; what her father had said about Enid; Nathan’s proposition; the diamonds; Jake’s reaction to the way John had treated her; John’s payout.
    And then there were the usual questions that plagued her when she was too tired to keep them at bay: How was she going to make do on her own without a job, without a man? What was she going to do with her life in the long term? Had she done the wrong thing taking on the house? Should she leave Wattle Creek and start afresh somewhere else? Why hadn’t she had the guts to demand her fair share from John? Why did everything come back to money? And why did everyone keep saying money wasn’t everything and that it couldn’t buy happiness?
    Emily woke feeling bleary-eyed and tired. The last time she’d checked it had been one o’clock. It was now six-thirty. No matter how badly she slept or how late she went to bed, she usually woke at around the same time. And no matter how long she lay in bed or how much she tried to talk herself into it, she could never go back to sleep.
    She pushed back the sheet and light cotton blanket, got out of bed, dragged her robe from the hook on the back of the door, slipped her feet into her worn sheepskin slippers, and padded down the hall to the kitchen. She took extra care to be quiet and let Jake sleep on. She let Grace out the kitchen door and stood on the verandah while the dog did her