Rose's Vintage Read Free Page B

were ragged and stained purple. ‘Always judge a man by his hands,’ her nanna had insisted. ‘His hands and his shoes.’ By shoes, Nanna had meant brogues, from Loake or Lobb, no doubt. Rose briefly wondered what she’d have made of Mark’s rough-and-ready hands and his mud-encrusted boots.
    â€˜Yes. Thanks, Mr Cameron. I was just getting settled in the barn.’
    He grimaced. ‘It’s not in the best state, but at least it’s dry.’
    â€˜It’ll be fine.’ Rose didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to be a stuck-up princess and complain about her digs when she’d barely been there five minutes.
    â€˜Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get on. I’m off to a conference for a few days – bloody inconvenient – but Astrid will fill you in on everything.’
    Rose nodded. She wasn’t sure if the conference was inconvenient for him or her.
    â€˜Oh, and it’s Mark by the way. Mr Cameron is my father,’ he said with a brief wink as he turned to leave.

    â€˜Well he wasn’t so bad,’ thought Rose to herself later as she returned from the house with rubber gloves, mop, bucket and an industrial-sized bottle of disinfectant, and set about sanitising, dusting and de-cobwebbing her new home, rehousing several daddy longlegs in the process. Thankfully there were no enormous arachnids of the kind Australia was famous for.
    Finally satisfied, she wiped her hair away from her cheek and glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. No wonder her stomach had been growling for the past hour. She looked around at the now spick-and-span room – all her clothes were neatly put away, her backpack stowed under the bed. Stepping into the living area, she confirmed with satisfaction that she could now at least see out of the windows, the cushions were plumped and the floor swept. You could almost eat off that now , she thought. Speaking of which …
    Heading back to the kitchen, Rose bumped into Astrid and Luisa. They had their coats and boots on again.
    â€˜We’re going to feed the chooks,’ said Astrid.
    â€˜Shooks!’ repeated Luisa, eyes wide with excitement. ‘Shooks! Shoooooks!’ she shouted at the top of her voice.
    â€˜Can I come too?’ Rose asked, thoughts of food momentarily forgotten. The faster she got to know her way around Kalkari the better. The first step was to get her bearings on the sprawling vineyard estate.
    â€˜If you like. Lead the way, Luisa.’
    Rose followed them meekly out into the yard.
    Luisa toddled across the scrubby lawn towards a wooden chicken house. Astrid shook a carton of feed, and several of the rusty-coloured birds Rose had seen when she first arrived began to strut jerkily towards her. ‘That is Maggie,’ Astrid said, pointing to the largest chicken. ‘Then there’s Stephanie and Nigella. And over there is Nugget.’ Bringing up the rear, marshalling his hens, was a fine-looking rooster with colourful tail-feathers. Rose laughed to herself. Only Australians would call a chicken Nugget.
    Luisa was excitedly chasing the hens around the yard, trying in vain to catch one. Astrid got closer, scooped up Nigella and placed her in the little girl’s arms. Luisa beamed with joy, dimples denting each chubby cheek.
    â€˜Shooks!’ she cried excitedly.
    â€˜Don’t squeeze her. Be gentle,’ warned Astrid, as she leaned into the hen house.
    â€˜Do you get many eggs?’ asked Rose, addressing Astrid’s petite bottom, which was now sticking out of the hen house.
    â€˜Yes, they lay well. We are never short of eggs,’ Astrid replied. After a moment she asked, ‘Have you eaten?’
    â€˜Actually, I was on my way to the kitchen when I bumped into you. I’m so hungry my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut – I didn’t really have time for breakfast this morning.’ Rose placed her hand over