howâs Jake, right?â
Simone laughed. âYes, I guess I do.â
âHeâs doing well, a lot more relaxed than he was in Melbourne. And he told me about his suspected adrenal fatigue. Right now heâs out with my friend David on the tractor. Iâm a little concernedheâs overdoing it, but heâs assured me he will take care. Perhaps the fresh air and change of scenery is the answer,â Emily added.
âI hope youâre right,â Simone said. âOh, well, heâs a big boy, heâs seen a doctor, so we can only really be here for him.â
âAnd how are things with you?â Emily asked.
âGreat. Your lovely comments about my paintings have got me all inspired. Iâm painting like a demon every chance I get.â
âThatâs great. I canât wait to see more of your work.â
âSo, are you making any more jam?â Simone asked. âItâs just that Billy emailed me andâ¦â
âTo be honest, Simone, I havenât had much chance to think about it. And itâs really a bad time for fruit at the moment â everything has finished. I should have access to figs in a few months and then oranges over winter for marmalade. I was going to see if the blackberries are still running rampant at the back of the farm, but I havenât had a chance to get up there. Iâm really sorry.â
âDonât be, you canât help when fruit is ripe,â Simone said with a laugh. âAnd, anyway, youâve probably got your hands full looking after Jake. Itâs not a problem; Billy just wanted to know for certain where it all stood. Look, Iâd better go. I just wanted to know Jake was okay. Iâll give him a call.â
âIt was lovely to speak to you, Simone. Thanks for calling.â Emily hung up. âSimone was checking up on her brother. Isnât that nice?â
âHmm,â Barbara agreed. âSo, shall we continue?â she asked, nodding at the television.
âYes, sorry about that.â
They resumed watching the movie, but Emily was unable to totally immerse herself back into the story again. She was distracted by thoughts of Simone and her art, and a nagging within her that she couldnât quite grasp.
Emily didnât know much about painting, but she liked Simoneâs bold style of having a single brightly coloured bloom take up mostof the space on her huge canvases. If not for the slightly raised, thick paint, some of them might have been mistaken for photographs. The gorgeous texture made you want to reach out and touch them. And she wasnât the only one who appreciated her talent; Jake had a couple of her paintings hanging in his apartment as well. Emily had particularly loved the one of red and green chillies on a bush in his kitchen. If only she knew someone who could get her art out to a wider audience.
She wished she could somehow return the help Simone had given her with selling her jam when she was so desperate financially. Not that Simone had known just how desperate her situation was. All sheâd known was that Jake had brought back the apricot jam to Melbourne because he liked it and thought it might sell well at the markets. And it had, thanks to the gorgeous labels Simone had designed, and the scones sheâd taken the trouble to make and serve with it. All without even having met her.
If Emily hadnât suddenly inherited everything from John, jam making could well have become her lifeline. She felt the overwhelming need to do something in return. Frustration grew inside of her, so much so that she became physically restless. Grace eventually got up from the couch with a harrumph and went to lie down on the floor.
âAre you okay?â Barbara asked.
âYeah, sorry.â She tried to tell herself that the chance to help would arise when and in whatever way it was meant to. She just had to be patient. Jake was bound to have an idea, or at