Milt scrunched up his now-empty paper bag and picked up his coffee. “Do you mind eating on the way?”
Natalie swallowed her restlessness with a mouthful of croissant and climbed back into the car. She’d let it go for now but not altogether. Getting away for a holiday was the most important thing to her, even if she had to wait a few more weeks.
“I want to call in at Bob and Veronica’s property before we go home.”
“Why?” She stared hard at her husband as if the answer might be written on his face but he was looking in the side mirror watching for a gap in the traffic to pull out onto the road.
“Bob said Jack was pretty distressed last night by Veronica’s news. He thought we might be able to reassure him. Jack’s on his own. The girls are still travelling overseas.”
“We hardly know him.” Jack was the Halbots’ oldest child and a year younger than Bree. He’d gone away to boarding school then had done ag studies at uni. He’d only been back on the property a year or so and Natalie’s path hadn’t crossed his in that time.
Milt flicked her a cautious look. “I’ve seen him a bit lately.”
Unease churned in the pit of her stomach. “Where?” The Halbots lived further north along the Barrier Highway that later veered east and on to the New South Wales border. Their properties were on the same side of the road but to reach each other’s houses was a half-hour drive with another neighbour’s land between them. Both homesteads were nestled among large gum trees, a long way off the highway. You didn’t go there without a purpose.
“Jack’s interested in our new drafting yards and our breeding program. He’s been to our place a couple of times.”
Natalie felt as if someone had punched her. The air left her lungs. She stared at Milt but he was concentrating on the road ahead.
They overtook a truck then, finally, he glanced her way. “Bob’s worried Jack won’t want to stay on the property so he’s keen to let him explore some changes. I couldn’t say no, Natalie. How rude would that be?”
She looked ahead, the croissant cooling on her lap and the coffee undrunk. Outside the landscape was familiar and yet alien. Like the pieces of her life she thought she knew so well but that were shifting around her again.
“We can’t live that close and not help each other,” he said.
“We’ve never worked closely with the Halbots before.”
Milt’s big hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. The creases in his knuckles turned red against the brown tan of his skin. “Jack came to me. I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for refusing him.” He glanced across at her. “The past is the past, Nat. Like Bob said, it’s long behind us now.”
“Bob doesn’t know the real reason for us to keep away though, does he?”
She studied Milt’s profile as he concentrated on the road again. He didn’t even glance her way. She had an urge to reach across and slap him and that shocked her so much she slid her hands under her thighs in case they moved without her say-so. She had to agree; up until yesterday she’d thought the past was put to bed but now she knew the things you buried had an awful way of surfacing and hitting you in the face again.
She looked ahead like Milt. The white lines flicked beneath them on the black bitumen, drawing them inexorably home. Visiting Jack was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d forgiven her husband for his one mistake all those years ago. And most days she could believe she’d forgiven Veronica, if she didn’t have to see her. Once Natalie had made the decision to stay in the marriage she’d thrown her heart and soul into making things right, and she believed Milt had too. They’d had a glitch and they’d survived it. Their love life, if a little less frequent these days, had been better, their lives together with their family richer, she was sure of it, but Jack Halbot was the reason she could never really forget that one blip in their marriage. Born nine months after the affair, could it be that Jack was the one thing Natalie hadn’t been able to give her husband – a son?
Not that Milt had ever said anything about wanting a son. Olive hadn’t been so discreet about it. She’d knitted little blue matinee jackets for each pregnancy in the hope that Natalie would produce a son and heir. If Milt felt the same, he’d never let on in any way. He’d shown the same delight with the arrival of all three daughters. Natalie knew he loved his girls. Even if he was hard on them at times, it was tough love that showed how much he cared.
She’d prayed that Laura would be a boy, something else she felt guilty about now but back then, like Olive, she’d badly wanted a boy for Milt so he wouldn’t ever long for the son he couldn’t have. Now here he was, it seemed, working closely with the one person, after Veronica, that Natalie wished was far away on another planet.
“Nat?”
She turned. Milt glanced sideways at her as if he was waiting for an answer.
“Sorry?”
“I said would you prefer I dropped you home first before I go to see Jack?”
Her eyes focused on the passing scenery and she realised they were getting close to the turn-off to their property.
“No, it’s all right. That will mean more driving for you and I know you’re keen to get out in the paddock.” She swallowed her treacherous thoughts and pulled a tight smile. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Jack since he left for high school. I should say hello at least.”
Milt nodded and they followed the highway on past their driveway. Twenty minutes later they were pulling up outside an old stone home, not as big as the Kings’ but in much better condition and surrounded by manicured gardens. Natalie took it all in with a mix of amazement and envy. She hadn’t been to the Halbots’ place since Kate was a toddler and Bree a baby in her arms. Back then Bob and Veronica had only lived on the property for a few years. The house had been in need of repairs and paint, and the grounds had been almost barren. So different now. Natalie drank it all in, thinking of her simple garden, geraniums and gerberas the only colour.
A brown kelpie bounded over to Milt’s door as he opened it, and wagged its tail as he patted its head.
“Hello, Buster.”
Natalie got out of her side, her heart beating a little faster. Milt even knew the name of their dog. How often had he come here and when? She’d never given a thought to what he did while she was at school. They always talked about their day over dinner and not once had he mentioned coming to the Halbots’ and yet here he was greeting their dog.
Milt waited for her and led the way through the back gate, past a neatly clipped rosemary hedge and herb garden to the back verandah. Three pairs of boots were lined up side by side at the back door; two sets large and well worn, the third petite and gleaming with polish.
“Anyone home?” Milt rapped on the wooden frame of the screen door. “Jack?”
“Hello,” a voice responded then the screen pushed open. A tall young man smiled at Milt and stepped out in socked feet.
“You remember my wife?”
“Yes.” Jack held out his hand. “Hello, Mrs King.” His sad eyes were a pearly blue like Milt’s.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please call me Natalie.”
“You’ve been with Mum?” Jack’s face crumpled.
Without hesitation Milt drew him into a hug. Natalie stiffened. A pain stabbed through her as sharp as any knife. They were a similar height and Jack had fair hair like Milt’s had been at his age, and waves like Milt’s had sprung into when it grew too long. Even Jack’s fingers were long and thin like Milt’s.
Jack stood back, struggled and won against tears. Natalie was silent while Milt provided the platitudes. The cancer had been found early, Veronica was strong, much better treatment these days, she’d recover. Jack nodded with each of Milt’s offerings like a parched man sipping a drink. He offered a cup of tea and Milt gently refused as they edged their way back towards the gate.
Jack stopped there, his feet still bootless.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?”
Natalie heard Milt s
ay the words and held her breath.
Jack turned to her.
She swallowed the lump that kept returning to her throat, aware Milt was watching her too. “Yes, don’t be on your own, come over.” Natalie heard herself say the words while she hoped he would refuse.
He didn’t, and then they were driving away.
“I hope Bree and Graeme have been managing okay.”
Natalie studied Milt as he manoeuvred along the Halbots’ track back towards the front gate. Over the years there’d been plenty of strangers at their table. Milt loved inviting people for dinner and she enjoyed it too. They’d entertained family, friends and neighbours, wool buyers, interstate breeders, families visiting the region sponsored by the local church, and once when Milt had been more involved with the farming federation, they’d even had a busload of politicians stop for afternoon tea and a discussion about life on the land. Natalie had taken it all in her stride but the thought of Jack Halbot sitting at her table set all those pieces of the jigsaw of her life whirling again.
“What the hell’s going on now?”
Milt’s exclamation brought her back to the present. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed they’d reached home. Olive’s car was parked by the back gate and Graeme’s battered ute was pulled in beside it with the dogs barking a welcome from the back.
Natalie followed Milt inside. The wooden door crashed against the wall but she was distracted by the smell of burning and the cacophony of noise coming from her kitchen. They both came to a stop in the doorway. Natalie’s mouth fell open at the sight before her. Every surface was covered in some kind of cooking utensil or bowl and half the contents of her pantry. Laura, Olive and Graeme were all standing around the table, Kate, looking pale, was lying on the floor with her legs propped up on a chair and Bree was half lying, half sitting on the table, one leg wrapped in a bandage and strips of bloodied denim scattered on the floor below.
“What in the blue blazes is going on here!” Milt strode forward.
There was a brief moment of quiet, except for the radio, as if someone had pressed a pause button, and then everyone spoke at once.
Natalie was the only one not speaking. She glanced again at Kate then at Bree, not knowing which of her daughters needed her the most. She decided on Bree.
“Quiet, the lot of you,” Milt bellowed and Laura had the good sense to turn off the radio.
“What have you done?” Natalie’s usual sense of calm in a crisis had deserted her.
Bree gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m all right, Mum. Came off my bike. Granny thinks I’ll need some stitches.”
Olive gave Natalie the briefest of nods and moved on to her son, who lowered his cheek so she could kiss it.
“And Kate?” Natalie looked to her oldest daughter, who was being helped to her feet by Graeme.
“I’m okay. Felt a bit woozy over Bree’s blood.”
“She should have a cup of sweet tea.” Olive turned to Milt. “Laura’s going to drive Bree into town in her car. I’ll meet them at the hospital. Bree can tell you all about it when she gets back.” She glanced at Natalie. “I’ll leave the food for the workers in your hands. I might make it back to town in time to help pack up the trading table. You should have said you were too busy to bake, I would have understood.”
Natalie resisted the urge to look heavenward.
Milt nodded at Bree. “I’ll help you out to the car.”
Kate moved up beside Natalie and slipped an arm around her mother’s waist. Her pale face crinkled in a half-hearted smile. “Hi, Mum. Welcome home.”
Natalie kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Where did you spring from?”
“Surprise visit,” she said in a pathetic voice.
“Lucky you’re here,” Milt said. “We’ll need your help with the mustering.”
“I don’t think she should—” Olive gave a shake of her head.
“I’m feeling okay now, Granny.”
Milt turned to Graeme. “Help me get Bree to the car then I’ll get changed and we’ll head out to the paddock before we lose any more of the day.”
Milt and Graeme lifted Bree in a fireman’s hold and Olive strode out ahead of them. “I’ll get the doors.”
Apart from the reference to the trading table she’d hardly acknowledged Natalie. Her nose was out of joint but that was nothing new. Natalie and Olive had had their moments – hardly a surprise with two women living under the same roof for many years. It was the tone of her voice and the stiffness of her stance that Natalie recognised so well. Olive was miffed, no doubt because Natalie hadn’t done the required baking.
“Hi, Mum.” Laura kissed her cheek. “Bye, Mum.”
Natalie looked sideways at her youngest. Her hair was swept up under a ridiculous green hat and escaping from the bottom were strands of bright pink, blue and green. Laura hurried to the door. A slurping, sticking sound accompanied her. Natalie looked down at the mucky footprints across the linoleum.
“Kate, get the old ute out. I’ll take my bike.” Milt was still giving orders.
Kate made a mock salute to his back then she gave Natalie an apologetic look as she realised she’d been sprung. “I’ll see you later, Mum.” And then she was gone too.
In the distance Natalie could hear dogs barking, car doors slamming, engines starting. She surveyed the bombsite that was her kitchen and sunk to a chair. All she wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep for a week.
The screen door banged and Milt stuck his head in. “They’re on their way.”
Natalie turned towards him, unable to summon any words.
“She’ll be all right, Nat.”
She gave a weak nod. Her initial shock at seeing Bree’s bloodied jeans and the bandage around the top of her leg had dissipated. If Olive decreed it was nothing too serious Natalie didn’t need to worry. No matter what else might annoy her about her mother-in-law Natalie knew the girls’ safety was paramount. Olive was not a fusser but her lack of haste reassured Natalie that Bree’s injuries weren’t too terrible.
Milt took a small step into the kitchen. “Bloody hell.” With everyone else gone it was as if he’d noticed the state of the room for the first time. “Sorry to rush off. Will you be all right with this?”
Natalie nodded again. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
“I’ll get changed.”
“What about lunch?” she managed.
He gave one more look around the kitchen and settled his gaze on her, his lips turned up in a rueful smile. “I’m sure we’ll appreciate whatever you can rustle up.” And then he was gone.
In the silence that followed, the pieces of Natalie’s life shifted and swirled again. She gripped the table in case she was sucked down the plughole with them.
Eight
Bree hobbled from her quarters to the kitchen following the delicious smell of roasting meat. The slow-combustion fire warmed the room and Laura was the only inhabitant.
“Where’s Mum?”
“She’s gone to have a shower and get changed.” Laura turned back from the window. The golden light of late afternoon streamed around her, highlighting the halo of kaleidoscope hair flowing out over her shoulders. “Evidently we’re having Jack Halbot here for dinner.”
Bree glanced at the table. The good placemats sat in a pile at one end and a pot of freshly picked gerberas took centre place.
“I haven’t seen him since primary school,” Laura went on. “I don’t know why he suddenly got invited.”
Bree lowered herself to a chair. “Dad’s been helping him with sheep a bit lately.”
“It’s strange we’ve never socialised with the Halbots.”
“Is it?” Bree hadn’t ever thought about it. The Kings’ property was large, tucked in a corner of grazing country, bounded by a highway with broad-acre farmers beyond it and a mountain range behind, over which the country was marginal, better suited to cattle. “We have other neighbours to the north we don’t see much of but there’s alw
ays been the Taylors and the Mercers and the Saints.” Bree ticked off her fingers as she listed the names of several other families they called ‘neighbours’ even though they were physically separated by hectares and hectares of land. “And up until recently we’ve spent any free time with the Fannings.” Their nearest neighbours, Brenda and Martin Fanning, had also been their parents’ best friends.
“Mum must miss Aunty Brenda. It’d be awful to have your bestie up and leave after thirty-odd years.” Laura was missing Spritzi already and they’d only been friends for a short time in comparison.
“She didn’t up and leave. She had to sell the property after Uncle Martin died. She couldn’t manage on her own and none of their kids were interested.”
“Brisbane’s such a long way from here though.”
“She’s got two of her kids there and a sister. It made sense.”
“Still, Mum must miss her and with all of us gone it must get lonely, just her and Dad.”
Bree gave a snort. “I’m still here and Granny comes out every week.”
“But it’s not the same as a friend. I think Mum seems a bit quiet.”
“You’ve only been home five minutes.”
“Maybe she needs to take a break, go to visit Aunty Brenda.”
“Maybe.”
“You still look pale,” Laura said. “Does it hurt?”
“Like the devil.” Bree had fallen into a deep sleep after they’d returned from the hospital. She’d needed several stitches and now the local anaesthetic had worn off and the throbbing pain had woken her. “Would you get me some painkillers from the bathroom?”
“Mum’s one step ahead of you.” Laura picked up a packet of tablets from the bench and brought them to Bree with a glass of water. “She left these for you.”
Bree took two, drank the whole glass of water then grinned at her sister who’d sat down opposite. “You look like a giant lollipop.”
“Thanks.” Laura dragged her hair back from her face with her fingers. “I washed my hair this arvo. The more I do it the quicker it’ll fade. I’ll put it up again before Dad gets home.”
The Model Wife Page 9