Fool Me Once

by Karly Lane

  Michael dropped her overnight bag on the floor as he looked about him with interest.

  ‘Matt? Being your …’

  ‘My employee,’ she finished dryly. ‘You think I keep an extra boyfriend around here or something?’

  ‘Just checking.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad we’ve established that,’ she told him drolly.

  ‘So, will this be the accommodation for your farm-stay guests?’ he asked, changing the subject.

  ‘It’s one of the options. I’d like to put in a few small cabins down near the river. I think they’d be popular with families and fishermen. The main house would be for the overnight visitors. We’d have to build camping facilities and a shower and toilet block. That’s the plan,’ she said, pulling herself up abruptly. ‘But Harry isn’t really interested, so it probably won’t happen.’

  ‘It sounds like an awesome plan. I don’t think you should give up on it.’

  Georgie gave a shrug. ‘It’s not my decision unfortunately.’

  ‘Could you go to Harry’s daughter with it?’

  ‘I couldn’t do that to Harry. He already feels like everything’s been taken away from him. I mean, it has, but I always call him each week with an update and he still reads over all the financials and paperwork. I think it’s the only thing that keeps him going, to be honest.’

  Initially he hadn’t wanted anything to do with the place. He’d fallen into a deep depression when he’d first moved down to Melbourne, but Georgie had refused to give up and continued calling him and talking about the farm as though he were still there and they were chatting about the day-to-day running over dinner at the kitchen table. Eventually he came around.

  ‘Ideally I’d like to educate people while they’re on a holiday. I mean there’s such a widening gap out there, with misinformation being spread around. The agriculture industry as a whole needs to start explaining to the general public how things are done and why, so that producers can stop being thought of as heartless animal abusers. If people could only see how much we care about the animals we raise, they wouldn’t so readily believe the propaganda that’s going around.’

  ‘That’s always been there though, hasn’t it?’ Michael countered.

  ‘To an extent,’ she agreed, ‘but social media, makes it so much easier to spread misconceptions … all you have to do is read a story online and hit share without even knowing if it’s true. I know farmers who’ve had hate campaigns run against them by animal activist groups. It’s ruined businesses, families … I don’t want to see that happen to anyone else.’

  ‘I think that’s a great idea … in theory,’ he replied. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s not needed, but I don’t know, I’m not sure you can change people’s minds if they’re determined to see only one side. I think the farming fraternity should just concentrate on their work and ignore all the extremists.’

  ‘Those extremists tend to have very loud voices that attract the media. If we don’t stand up and show our side of the story, then the general public are going to start believing all the scaremongering they’re doing.’

  ‘Fair point.’

  Georgie studied him curiously. Clearly his early farm roots weren’t as strong as he thought they were, which made her think that his ‘find a farm’ venture was probably just as she’d originally thought—a way to recapture his childhood with a weekender in the country. She tried to push away the green-eyed monster, but there was a prickle of irritation at the thought there were people out there who could afford to buy property with about as much thought or care as buying a new car. She wondered what that kind of life would feel like, then quickly dismissed the idea. She’d rather work her butt off and earn everything she owned than take it for granted because it came too easily.

  ‘So,’ she said, dropping the keys on the kitchen bench, ‘would you like a tour of the house or a tour of the property first?’

  His smile slanted a little and she knew what he was going to say before he said it. ‘I reckon we should start with a tour of the bedroom.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ she chuckled.

  ‘But if you’d rather do a tour of the property first …’ he said, making a move towards the front door.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she said, catching his hand as he moved past her and tugged him closer. ‘It probably makes sense since we’re already inside anyway,’ she said as his lips drew closer to hers. After that it was a moot point really. Who’d have thought a tour of the house would end at the bedroom and go no further for most of the afternoon?

  Six

  As they sat outside on the verandah, Michael watched the sun pick up the highlights in Georgie’s hair, the warm tones adding depth to her chocolate brown eyes. He wished he could dive into those eyes and drown.

  ‘Tell me about your family.’

  He watched as the sparkle left her eyes and sadness crept in. Immediately he wished he could take back his question.

  ‘My mum died when I was thirteen. My dad about five years ago.’

  ‘That must be really tough. I’m sorry. I know how hard it was losing my dad when I was a kid, I can’t imagine losing my mum as well.’

  ‘It was … is hard,’ she amended. She’d never got used to not having her mum there for all her major milestones and on hand to talk to about the normal things mums and daughters talked about. There were days when she missed them both so much.

  After her mother’s death, Shannon’s family had filled the gaping void in Georgie’s life. She spent a great deal of time with the Sinclairs. At their house there was no need to walk on eggshells for fear of setting her father off in a rage. She was able to laugh and not feel guilty. She could be a kid over there and not worry about bills her father refused to deal with or work out what groceries they could afford for the week. And best of all, she never had to eat alone at the Sinclairs’. To this day she hated eating at a table in silence. She’d prefer to eat outside on the verandah with the sound of insects and farm animals nearby than sit in the lonely kitchen and eat by herself.

  ‘It makes sense that you’d want your property back. Had your family been off the land for long?’

  Georgie sent him a confused glance.

  ‘It’s just that, I assumed your family sold the property some time ago … since you didn’t inherit it …’ He stopped at the look on her face. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. Dad sold the farm while I was away at uni. It was a bit of a shock.’ She dropped her gaze to the weathered boards of the verandah. ‘I wasn’t aware that things were so bad. I thought I’d be able to come home and help him turn the place around,’ Georgie said with a bitter twist of her lips. ‘Like I was somehow going to sweep in armed with a degree and save the day. He’d never said a word to me that things were as desperate as they were. There was no warning at all. I should have been paying more attention.’

  ‘Surely you couldn’t have done anything though.’

  ‘I should have come home more often. I could have made him talk to me.’

  ‘I’m sure he was doing what he thought he had to do to protect you. He wouldn’t have wanted you to worry,’ Michael said gently.

  ‘That’s not the point though,’ Georgie said and let out a slow breath. ‘My dad … he was never much of a talker,’ she said with a lopsided grin. ‘After Mum passed, he was even less so. The house was so quiet all the time. I hardly saw him—he’d be out working when I went to school in the morning and sometimes he wouldn’t come back in until I’d already gone to bed. I’d cook dinner and leave it in the fridge for him, and in the morning the plate would be there in the sink, but there’d be no sign of him. It was like living with a ghost.’

  Michael frowned.

  ‘The thing is,’ she hurried on, ‘I should have made him talk to me but instead we just coexisted. It became normal to ignore how dysfunctional it was to have a house where there was barely any conversation and where we just pretended everything was fine. Once I left
for uni, Dad didn’t even bother to hide his drinking anymore. I made excuses not to come home for so long—it was just too sad. I saw him deteriorating, but I couldn’t get him to get help … the only time I actually saw anything like emotion in him was when I told him I wanted to drop out of uni and come home to help out.’

  Michael slid his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. ‘You were a kid, Georgie. You can’t blame yourself.’

  That was just it though. She did. She felt as though she’d let him down, and being able to see things with an adult point of view did little to comfort her. When she looked back now, she realised there’d been lots of signs she should have picked up on but hadn’t. She remembered him looking at her—really looking at her—for what seemed like the first time in years and her throat still closed up when she remembered how, for just a split second, she’d seen the father she remembered from when she was younger … before their lives had fallen apart. You make something of your life, you hear me? he’d said. You’re going to do great things, George. I know it. You get that degree. So she’d ignored everything inside her telling her to do something to help him and she’d gone back to uni instead. Even now, years after it had all ended, the pain and anger were still raw wounds.

  ‘I can understand how your dad selling must have been really hard to accept, but from my experience, sometimes as hard a decision as it is, it’s often better than being under a cloud of debt and stress.’

  ‘Maybe. Although not in Dad’s case. He was hounded into selling to a large corporation. When he refused, they put more pressure on him, then hovered like a pack of vultures until he had no choice but to sell to them for a fraction of what they’d first offered.’ She stood up and walked down the front steps and he followed. ‘He sold without even telling me.’

  ‘Sounds like he didn’t have much choice,’ Michael soothed.

  Georgie snapped her eyes to his. ‘He didn’t. Not by then. But if he’d just stopped drowning his sorrows and stopped being too proud to ask for help, maybe we could have held on to it long enough for me to graduate and come back and help him. I had so many plans for that place,’ she said sadly, blinking back unexpected tears. ‘I just wish he’d fought harder instead of giving up on it … on me.’

  ‘I know it’s not the same as your own place, but you’ve got your chance to put all those plans into action here. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?’

  Georgie nodded her head, pushing away the pain of the past. ‘I love this place, but you’re right, it’s not the same. It’s not mine.’ They both contemplated in silence for a few moments. ‘I think that’s why I hate them so much,’ she said. Michael looked confused. ‘The corporations. All they see is dirt and profit. They haven’t put their own blood and sweat into these places, they have no connection to the land they buy, they just accumulate it.’

  The old house groaned as though sympathising with her pain and she walked across the clearing, her shoes kicking up puffs of dust in her wake, to rest her arms along the top of the weathered wooden stockyards.

  ‘I hate knowing someone else is driving down the track that leads to the dam my grandfather built or past the hollow where Shannon and I built our clubhouse when we were eight. They won’t even realise that Barney, my first horse, is buried under the big fig tree, or that the ridge was the last place I sat with my mother and watched a sunrise before she died.’ She swiped at the tears, angry that after all this time she still fell apart if she talked about it.

  Michael stood next to her, his hip touching hers, silently offering his support.

  The fact that he didn’t offer token words of sympathy added more points in his favour. Georgie hated to cry, but she hated crying in front of someone else even more.

  They listened to the squabble of birds settling in for the evening and Georgie pushed away from the fence, turning so that her back rested against it.

  ‘So your old place was bought by a corporation?’ he asked slowly. ‘Chances are it won’t be put up for sale as it was. They usually sell properties as part of a package, made up of multiple parcels of land. Buying back your property may not be possible.’

  Her frown deepened as she tapped the heel of her shoe in the dirt.

  ‘You have no idea how much I loathe those people.’ She remembered watching them buy out countless families around the district, waiting until the owners were at their lowest point, then scooping up their land in a big net. ‘I don’t care how unlikely it is, I’m not giving up. One day I’ll get Tamban back. You just wait and see.’

  Michael studied her quietly, and she gave herself a mental shake. This was why she didn’t like to talk about the past. It was just too depressing. ‘Come on, I want to show you something,’ she said, pushing away from the rail and forcing away thoughts of Tamban.

  The sound of an engine approaching made them stop and turn around and Michael watched as a lanky man on a quad pulled up.

  ‘Hey,’ Georgie greeted him. ‘Matt, this is Michael.’

  Michael leaned across Georgie and shook the man’s hand, noting the firm grip and holding his measured look.

  ‘G’day,’ Matt said, releasing Michael’s hand.

  ‘Michael’s staying for a few days,’ Georgie said, and he thought he detected the slightest touch of nervousness in her tone.

  ‘Good-o,’ Matt said, turning his curious gaze back onto Michael again.

  ‘We’re just heading down to the creek. You coming up for dinner later?’

  ‘Nah. I’ll grab something in town. I’m heading into the feed store in a sec, before it shuts. See ya around,’ he said, sending a nod to Michael as he restarted the quad and left them to their walk.

  ‘Seems like a decent guy,’ Michael said in the silence after the engine noise had faded.

  ‘Yeah. He’s great,’ Georgie answered, sounding a little distracted. ‘The thing is, I’ve never really had anyone stay over before,’ she said after a few moments. ‘It felt a little weird.’

  ‘I see.’

  She looked up sharply and frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing. Only, if he’s your work colleague, why would it be weird introducing us?’

  ‘Because I’ve never had to introduce a … male friend before. Matt and I don’t really share our private lives … I mean, I don’t ask who he goes into town to visit.’

  He lifted an eyebrow at friend, but bit back a smile. He thought she’d been about to use the word boyfriend and changed her mind. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been a boyfriend to someone, probably not since high school. ‘He seemed okay with it.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s all good, it was just a bit …’

  ‘Weird,’ he supplied with a grin. It cheered him up immensely to know that he was the first guy she’d ever wanted to bring out here.

  They headed down a trail that eventually led to a river and Michael was immediately captivated by the gentle sounds of water trickling over smooth rocks. It was certainly a beautiful place, but his mind wasn’t on the scenery. Something bothered him. Tamban. The name sounded familiar, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d heard it somewhere or Georgie had mentioned it earlier. Either way, he had a strange sensation of warning and he had no idea why.

  The water was freezing, but they rolled up their jeans and paddled in the shallows. He listened to her as she told him more about her plans and his heart swelled with a strange longing at her soft laughter. With the last rays of sunshine on his shoulders and her head tucked beneath his chin, they sat together on the warm rocks beside the water and it felt like he’d finally found his way home.

  Late that night as Georgie slept, Michael made his way outside to make a phone call. Punching in a number, he waited for the grumpy voice on the other end to answer.

  ‘Yeah, I know what time it is. Sorry. Listen, I need some information. Does the name Tamban mean anything to you?’ He heard his younger brother mumble some expletives as he struggled to wake up. ‘Look, just do me a favour and do some digg
ing. Let me know if anything comes up. I don’t have internet.’

  ‘Where the hell are you?’

  ‘I’m relaxing. Isn’t that what you keep telling me to do?’

  ‘Like you’ve ever listened to me before,’ Brent yawned. ‘What’s this about anyway?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. I just heard the name and it rings a bell. I’m just not sure why. Call me back when you get anything, okay? Oh, and keep it to yourself.’ He disconnected the call and stared out through the darkness as the crickets chirped, merrily oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside him.

  The next day they drove around the rest of the property. It was mostly cleared grazing land, the majority flat and with a good supply of grass to sustain a fair-sized herd of cattle. Already Michael had begun calculating the numbers and was impressed by the potential of the place. The Stoney Creek National Park, the inspiration for the farm’s name, backed onto the property across the river and there were plenty of hiking and sightseeing activities to include as part of the farm stay’s activities. He looked over at Georgie while she drove and she took her eyes from the track, sending him a shy smile. Every time he thought he had her figured out she threw him off course.

  ‘Did you decide on that property you were looking at in Armidale?’ she asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘If you do decide to buy it, does that mean you’ll be relocating there?’

  Michael wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to get into details of his business just yet. ‘No, probably not. It’d be used as a fattening property.’

  Georgie nodded. ‘How big is your other property?’