Aunt Lucy's Lover. Miranda Lee
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buildings. There was a short delay while everything was sprayed for God knows what and some lady with a foreign accent gave a brief talk over the intercom about the island and its rules and regulations.
Jessica rolled her eyes when she heard the speed limit was only fifty kilometres an hour around the island generally, and a crawling twenty-five kilometres an hour through the town and down on the foreshores at Kingston. Drivers were warned they had to give way to all livestock on the roads.
Lord, she thought with rueful amusement. This was as far removed from Sydney as one could get!
The formalities finally over, she hoisted her roomy tan handbag onto her shoulder and alighted, relieved to find that it wasn’t all that hot outside, despite the sun beginning to peep through the parting clouds. She’d worn a summer-weight pants-suit for travelling, a tailored cream outfit that didn’t crease. But it had a lined jacket and wasn’t the coolest thing she owned.
Her hair was cool, though, slicked back into the tight chic knot she always wore for work. Her makeup was expertly done to highlight her big dark eyes and full mouth. Her jewellery was discreet and expensive. A gold chain around her neck. Gold studs in her lobes. A gold watch around her slender wrist.
She looked sleek and sophisticated, and a lot more composed than she was feeling.
The short walk across the tarmac to the small customs building was enough for Jessica to see that whilst the air temperature felt moderate, the humidity was high. As soon as she arrived at her aunt’s house she’d change into something lighter.
In no time Jessica had secured her suitcase and was through customs. It seemed there was some advantage coming to tiny places like this. She’d barely walked into the terminal building when a funny little barrel-shaped woman with frizzy grey hair touched her on the arm.
‘You’d have to be Jessica,’ she said, smiling up at her.
‘And you must be Evie,’ Jessica responded, smiling back. Impossible not to. Mr. Slade had been right about that. Evie was the sort of person one liked on sight. She had a round face with twinkling grey eyes and a warm smile. She wore a shapeless floral tent dress and might have been sixty.
Jessica was given a brief but all-encompassing appraisal. ‘You don’t look much like your mother, do you?’
She certainly didn’t. Her mother had been petite and fair with blue eyes.
Still, Jessica’s heart leapt at Evie’s observation.
‘You knew my mother?’
‘Well, of course I knew your mother, lovie! I’ve lived on this island for near nigh forty years now. Everyone knows everyone around here. You’ll soon learn that. I knew your grandparents, too. Come on,’ Evie urged, taking her arm. ‘Let’s get out of this crowd and into some fresh air.’
Jessica allowed herself to be led down some steps and out into a half-empty car park. Her thoughts were whirling. If Evie had known her grandparents, did that mean they’d lived here on this island, as well? Had her aunt and her mother been born here? Were her family islanders?
The desire to bombard Evie with questions was great, but something held Jessica back for the moment. Probably an instinctive reluctance to admit she was so ignorant about her own past.
Or was she afraid to find out the truth, now that it was within her grasp?
‘The car’s over here,’ Evie said.
It was a Mazda. Small, white, dented and dusty. It was also unlocked, with the keys in the ignition.
Jessica could not believe her eyes. ‘Er, don’t you think you should have locked your car?’ she said as she climbed into the passenger seat, not wanting to criticise but unable to keep silent.
Evie laughed. ‘No one locks their car on Norfolk Island, lovie. You’ll get used to it.’
‘I doubt it,’ Jessica muttered, shaking her head. Imagine doing such a silly thing in Sydney!
‘Think about it,’ Evie said, starting up the engine. ‘Where are they going to go if they steal it?’
Jessica had to admit that was true, but she knew she’d still be locking the car doors, no matter what the locals did.
‘It’s not my car, actually,’ Evie added as she angled her way out of the car park. ‘It used to belong to Lucy, but she gave it to Sebastian before she died.’
Jessica frowned at this news. So Mr. Slade had been given something, after all. Okay, so it wasn’t much of a car but maybe he’d been given other gifts, as well. For all she knew, her aunt might have handed over quite a degree of money to her loyal and loving companion before she died. It would explain why he’d received nothing in the will.
‘This is the main street,’ Evie piped up. ‘A lot of the shops have duty-free goods, you know. It’s one of the main pastimes for visitors. Shopping.’
There were, indeed, a lot of shops lining the road. Some of them were open but most looked pretty well deserted, as were the sidewalks. There was a young boy on a bike, plus a middle-aged couple wandering along, hand in hand. It looked as quiet and dead a place as Jessica had originally thought.
‘It’s pretty slow on a Sunday,’ Evie said. ‘Things will be hopping here tomorrow.’
Jessica decided Evie’s idea of hopping might be a fraction different from her own.
‘Sebastian seemed to think you might want me to come in and do the shopping and cooking while you’re here, like I did for Lucy,’ Evie rattled on. ‘He’s been looking after himself and the place since Lucy’s death, though I do drop by occasionally to give the house a dust through. I only live next door and men never think of dusting.’
‘That was kind of you, Evie. Yes, I think I would like you to do that. I’ll pay you whatever Lucy did. Will that be all right?’
Evie waved her indifference to talking about payment. ‘Whatever. I don’t really need the money,’ she said. ‘My husband left me plenty when he died. I just like to keep busy. And I love cooking. Eating, too.’ She grinned over at Jessica. ‘So what do you like to eat? Do you have any favourite foods or dishes?’
‘Not really. I’m not fussy at all. Cook whatever you like. I’ll just enjoy being pampered for a change. Cooking is not one of my strong points.’
Actually, she could cook quite well, had had to when she was growing up to survive. If she’d waited for her mother to cook her a meal she would have starved. But she didn’t fancy cooking for Mr. Slade. It had also crossed her mind that she’d be able to question Evie with more ease if she was around the house on a regular basis.
‘That’s fixed, then,’ Evie said happily. ‘I’ll come in every morning around eleven-thirty and make lunch. Then I’ll come back around five to cook dinner for seven-thirty. I don’t do breakfast. Lucy always did that for herself. How does that sound?’
‘Marvellous.’ Jessica sighed her satisfaction with the arrangement and settled back to look around some more.
The wide streets of the shopping centre were quickly left behind and they moved onto a narrower road, with what looked like farms on either side. A few cows grazed lethargically along the common. The Mazda squeezed past a truck going the other way, then a car, then a utility, Jessica noting that Evie exchanged waves with all three drivers as they passed by.
She commented on this and was told it was a local custom, and that even the tourists got into the spirit of the Norfolk Island wave within a day of arrival. Jessica was quietly impressed with their friendliness, despite cynically thinking that if all Sydney drivers did that in city traffic, everyone would go barmy. Still, it was rather sweet, in a way.
‘Here we are,’ Evie announced, slowing down and turning into a gateway that had a cattle grid between its posts and an iron archway above, which said with proud simplicity, Lucy’s Place.
The gravel driveway rose gradually,