Time Will Tell by Fiona McCallum Page B

yesterday, not four decades before.
    Emily wondered if John was her first true love and if she’d ever get over him. But she couldn’t imagine he’d still bring tears to her eyes in a year, let alone decades. Perhaps that was the difference with someone dying as opposed to a relationship ending.
    Oh, who was she kidding? She had thought she loved him, but really, if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t the deep, Romeo and Juliet type of love people talked about.
    What would Gran have said about it? The woman who gave up an Indian prince to spend her life in the sticks doing it tough with a farmer. She’d never know.
    Again the urge came upon her to look for the rest of Gran’s diamonds, but she knew now that she’d never be able to part with them. Their sentimental value was too great. Part of Emily knew it was ridiculous, but another part wondered if they perhaps held some kind of magical power on account of their being from India.
    Was it coincidence that she had finally gained the strength to leave John so soon after she’d been given the button jar?
    â€˜Gosh, I didn’t realise how late it was getting,’ Emily said, staring at her watch a little disbelievingly. It was almost six o’clock. ‘There are plenty of leftovers for us to pick at for tea. Or perhaps you’d just like tea or coffee and some fruitcake.’ She’d meant to get it out just after lunch, but Jake had produced a huge box of chocolates that they’d immediately begun devouring.
    â€˜I’d love a cuppa and some cake, but I’m not sure I can fit it in,’ Jake said.
    â€˜Seriously mate, Emily’s fruitcake is well worth finding room for,’ Des said.
    â€˜It’ll still be here later or tomorrow, or possibly next week,’ Emily said with a laugh.
    â€˜Oh, what the hell,’ Jake said. ‘May as well go the whole hog. It is Christmas after all. I’ll have some cake and a cup of Milo – if that’s okay – and then later I’m going to sit and do some drawings and notes for your project here.’
    â€˜Surely not on your weekend off.’
    â€˜Just a few doodles; it’s not exactly work. And anyway, I’m excited by the potential; I want to put together some options and suggestions for you.’
    â€˜Well, that would be great. Thanks Jake,’ Emily said, trying to sound brighter than she felt.
    â€˜My pleasure. Anyway, I’ve got to do something for my keep – I might be imposing on you quite a bit over the next few months. If you let me.’
    I like the sound of that , Emily thought, and would have said the words aloud if her father hadn’t been sitting right there.

Chapter Nine
    Emily would have served the tea and cake in the lounge room, but there were only two old armchairs. Bringing in a hard wooden kitchen chair would completely ruin what little ambience there was. And of course, being a gentleman, Jake would have insisted she sit on one of the comfy chairs. One day I’ll fill the room with decent furniture , she told herself, and then sighed; there were so many things that would have to come before that, when funds permitted. Why did everything have to revolve around money?
    When they had finished their cake and the men had refused a second slice, Emily suggested they go and rest in the lounge while she rinsed the few dishes they’d just dirtied. Jake tried to help her, but she was almost forceful in ushering them out of the kitchen and across the hall.
    â€˜Best not to argue, mate,’ Des Oliphant said, leading the way.
    Emily was glad to be left to her own thoughts for a few moments; she’d join them soon. Bloody John. A few weeks ago she’d been okay with the knowledge that he’d ripped her off, and had pretty much washed her hands of the whole business. But the revelation of just how much – and how badly she now needed the money – made her feel very depressed and