She didn't so much as sweep into my life, she didn't so much as stride into my life, she crept into my life, and the first words she said to me were, "Excuse me, can you tell me where the Post Office is?"
"Yeah, sure." I replied. "It's just down this road a block and you turn right and it's about fifty metres from the corner, on your right." While I was giving her directions I looked closely at her, and if I'd been asked to describe her minutes later I would have had trouble, there was nothing about her appearance that was out of the ordinary, she was medium everything, medium length brown hair, her complexion was between pale and tanned, she was of medium height and her figure was neither thin nor well endowed. She wore clothes of a mix of neutral colours, no make-up, no scars, moles, blemishes or visible tattoos. The only thing that wasn't medium were her eyes, they were a clear blue.
"Thank you." She turned and walked in the direction of the Post Office.
"Would you like me to show you where it is?"
"No, I'll be fine." And with that she walked out of my life. At least that was what I thought. Little was I to know that she would soon return to take over my life, and there was nothing that I could do about it.
I thought no more about her as I continued putting out the signs advertising my parents' Hardware store, and the latest amazing specials, before going inside and preparing for the flood of customers that these signs would attract. By now you're probably thinking that I didn't want to be here, and you'd be right. But be here I must since my father's illness has prevented him from being here, he had recently been given the good news that the operation on his prostate was not as successful as at first hoped, and he has taken this news pretty bad, and given up on much of his life, including running the shop.
He came down for a couple of hours a week until a month ago to ensure that the inventory is kept up to date and that the bills are paid. More and more he is allowing me to take control of this side of the business and soon I know that I'll be running it by myself.
It was around mid-afternoon when I saw her again, she was looking at the screws and nails shelves with a worried look on her face. "Hi, can I help you at all?"
She turned to me and there was instant recognition on her face. "Oh hi, yes I think you can, I have to find the right nails for this job that I have to do."
"What are you doing?"
"I have to replace the weatherboards (timber cladding boards) on the walls of the house. I have ordered the boards for the job, all I need are the right nails."
I reached for a nail from a bin. "These are the ones you need. How many do you need?
"I don't know. I've never had to do anything like this before so I wouldn't know where to start. What would you suggest?"
"Well, if you have a lot of boards to put up, it's better and cheaper to buy in bulk, the other benefit is that you'll have them in a large container and are less likely to have them scattered all over the place. Next thing, do you have the right tools for the job?"
"I have a hammer, it's an old one that belonged to my Great-grand-grandfather."
"With a wooden handle?"
"Yes."
"Then I suggest that you invest in a good new one with a fibreglass or similar handle, that way you won't need one as heavy because they are better balanced and you get as much drive from a lighter tool. What about a nail-bag?"
"No."
"While you don't really need one, they make life so much easier for you, they have a hook to hang the hammer on when you're not actually using it and you can fill them with as many nails as you're comfortable carrying, and they're right there where you need them. How high are the walls?"
"Pretty high, around three metres I think, why?"
"If they're that high you'll need a scaffold, is the ground around the house flat or is it on a slope?"
"It's level at the front but the rear is on a slope."
"Then you'll need adjustable legs."
"This is all too confusing, it's a bigger job than I thought."
"Look, if you like, I can come out and have a look at the house after work, and give you an idea of what you'll need."
"Would you do that for me?" I could tell that she wasn't used to shop-keepers offering assistance.
"Sure, where do you live?"
"It's number 37 Holbrook Rd."
"The Ferguson place." I said, almost under my breath. "So that means that you're George's great-grand-daughter."
"Yes. You obviously know him."
"He has been a customer for ever, as long as I can remember. I heard that he'd died, it was hard not to have heard, and the whole town knew about it and shut down for the funeral. It's not every day that the last child of the original settlers dies. He almost made it to a hundred."
"Yeah, he outlived my Grand-father and he and my father had a falling out around 10 years ago and I haven't seen a lot of him since then. I don't know what's going to happen, I think my father wants to sell, in fact I know he does, that's why I'm here."
"Could get messy."
"I'll deal with that when it happens, in the meantime, thank you for your offer, and I'll see you later." With that she walked out of my life again, but this time I knew that I'd be seeing her again.
I shut up shop at 5:30 as usual and placed the takings in the safe before dropping the keys at home (upstairs) with Mum. "Where are you going, dinner will be ready soon." My father usually ate early so that he could crawl back into his bed to die.
"I have to call on a customer, I'll see you soon." I drove to the Ferguson place to find her mowing the lawn. She shut down the mower as I got out of my car (it wasn't actually a car, it was a Ute, what Americans call a pickup).
"Hi again, again." She held out her hand for me to shake. "Thank you for coming."
"Hi, by the way I'm Grant McAdam."
"Coralie, Coralie Ferguson. Well this is home for me for the time being, what do you think?"
"I think it's in pretty good condition for its age. Tell me, why are you replacing the weatherboards, they look in pretty good shape to me?"
"I was told that they needed replacing."
"Who by?"
"I called a builder to give me a price to do the place up, and that's what he told me."
"Probably wanted the work. Look, you should cancel that order, those weatherboards are red cedar, and in as good condition as when they were first put up over a hundred years ago. (Red cedar is a close grained timber much prized by furniture makers and many farmers used it in cladding and shingles for their houses because of its weather resistance and ease of use.) You couldn't afford to replace them with new cedar, even if you could find them, each piece would cost you $1,000. Cedar was plentiful on the east coast of Australia a hundred years ago, and the cedar-getters literally wiped out every tree to the point where it is illegal to fell Cedar any more. Cabinet makers pay a fortune for any that they can get their hands on."
"So I don't need to buy nails and a hammer and a scaffold after all, is that what you're telling me?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you. I know that I'm doing myself out of a sale but I don't believe in ripping people off. I got that from my father, he never talked a customer into buying something that wasn't necessary."
"You're never going to be a millionaire with that attitude, are you?"
"If that's what's required to be a one of them, count me out, as long as I have a comfortable living, I'm happy."
"More and more I like this man." She smiled at me, and there was something else about her that wasn't 'normal', she had an amazing smile, it literally lit up her face.
"Having talked myself out of this sale, what else needs to be doing, I'd hate to have wasted this trip."
"So you think it's been a waste, do you?" She was smiling at me again, and I didn't know what to make of this. Here was this girl, she was hardly a woman yet, probably mid-twenties at best, who I hardly knew, and she was flirting outrageously with me.
"No, now that you mention it, you need to put new mesh on the chook yard if you're going to keep chickens, and the shed needs work, and the garage doors need re-hanging. You've got enough to keep you occupied for years." I smiled my best smile at her just to let her know that I was joking.
"And how much is all that going to cost me?"
"Apart from the materials, and I can let you have that at trade price, nothing other than dinner and a steady supply of drinks while I'm working."
"Are you telling me that you're willing to help me with this mountain of work that needs to be done, and for a feed and some lemonade?"