“Hello, Natalie,” he said.
“Hello, Mr King.” She shook the hand he held out. It was rougher than Milt’s but his grip was gentle like the smile on his lips.
“Please call me Clem,” he said and from then on she had.
Clem offered her a seat, asked how she’d enjoyed her day and made her feel at home. She wasn’t quite so comfortable under Olive’s appraising eye. Her words of welcome didn’t match the sharp, assessing look she kept directing at Natalie, so different to the benevolent gaze she bestowed on her son – a cross between adoration and incredulity, as if she couldn’t quite believe she’d produced such a strong, good-looking offspring.
The evening was relaxing enough. Natalie shared a long-neck beer with Clem and Milt. Olive stuck to sherry. The roast had been dry and the vegetables overcooked. Natalie had assumed it was because they were late but came to discover that was how Olive cooked every roast. They’d eaten cheesecake that had a crumbling base and a gluggy filling. When Natalie had been invited again the following week she took a cheesecake she’d made herself. Clem had loved it. Cheesecakes had become her trademark dessert and even though they’d dropped in and out of fashion over the years, she often made an old favourite or searched out a new recipe to try.
Now she ran her finger down the glossy page she had cut from a magazine and glued onto the blank page before Chapter Three in the book. It was a recipe for New York–style baked cheesecake with berry coulis. She hadn’t made it for years and yet tonight she’d whipped it up without even looking at the recipe.
“Nat?”
She jumped up from the bed.
Milt’s footsteps thudded up the passage. Even though he would be bootless and there was a carpet runner over the wooden floorboards, he still couldn’t manage to walk quietly. Never had been able to.
She shoved the book under her pillow as he pushed open the door.
“Here you are.” He paused. “Everything all right?”
“Fine.” How many times had she said that today? “Fine.” She couldn’t help herself. Resentment seethed inside her. “Everything’s fine.”
Milt opened his mouth, the puzzlement on his face almost comical. Then he changed tack mid-thought. She could read him well. Or at least she’d thought she could. She took a deep breath.
“Milt, I want to—”
“You need to talk to the girls.” He cut her off. “Have you seen the state of the bathroom? There’s not a surface spare, bottles without lids, a line-up of hair machines in the power board, they’ll blow a circuit if they all start up together, and there’re rainbow strands of hair all over the floor and the basin.” He growled but there was no real depth to it.
“You usually wash your hands in the laundry.”
“The trough was full of clothes.”
Natalie thought about the en suite she’d once tried to have added to their bedroom. It had been back when the two older girls had reached teenage years and the bathroom had become a battleground. Milt had raged like a bull at their clutter. After one particularly busy weekend when they’d had girlfriends staying over and he’d raved on to her for ten minutes, Natalie had hatched a plan to build an extra bathroom under the verandah outside their bedroom. Milt had said it was a waste of money and Olive had backed him as she always did. Clem had sat on the fence as he always did. Olive had said they’d always managed with one bathroom. Of course she and Clem were living in the quarters by then and money had already been spent to bring that bathroom up to scratch.
Natalie had even gone in to the bank and organised a personal loan, much to the amusement of the manager at the time who was also a family friend. She was prepared to pay it back out of her teaching wage. Clem had convinced her in his quiet way she’d be wasting her money. Best to save it for a rainy day when it might really be needed for something important. It had certainly been helpful to have her own money when it came to tough years on the farm and there’d been other expenses: Kate’s ongoing treatment after she’d fallen from a tree; Bree’s extra study trips; Laura’s braces. Natalie’s off-farm income had helped with many things over the years.
She studied Milt as he rummaged for clean clothes. Her strong, unfaltering Milt, although she doubted that again now. Not his strength but the unfaltering part. She’d swallowed her pride and her hurt all those years ago, forgiven him, moved on with their lives but now she questioned her trust. Did she really have the confidence in him that she showed to the rest of the world?
“The tanks are getting low.” He pushed a drawer shut, opened another. “The girls have to remember we’re not on mains water here.” By that he would mean she had to remind them. “Laura especially, she—”
“I’ll suggest Laura share Bree’s bathroom. That’ll remove some of the clutter.”
“Do we know how long she’s staying?”
Natalie shook her head. “Milt, we need to talk.”
“What about?”
“Jack.”
“Not again, Natalie. I told you he’s only interested in expanding his farming knowledge. There’s nothing more to it.” He took a clean shirt from the wardrobe. “I’d better get through the shower. Mum will be here soon.”
He left and anger bubbled in Natalie’s chest. She could think of nothing but Jack, and Milt was oblivious.
She took a deep calming breath, let herself out into the passage then paused at Laura’s door. It was shut. She’d been brusque with her youngest. Her words had discouraged conversation when she could see from Laura’s look after lunch she’d wanted to unburden, but Natalie hadn’t given her the option, hadn’t had the strength to deal with Laura’s dramas.
She’d seen the same pressing look in Bree’s eyes when she’d talked about going away with Owen and in Kate’s when she talked about her falling-out with Sarah. She should have asked if it was that or something more that created the air of lethargy she noticed around Kate. Natalie wanted to listen, to offer motherly soothings and words of wisdom, but it was as if that ability had been suctioned from her.
The damned book declared it was her duty to devote her time to taking care of her family and putting them before her own needs. She’d done that all the girls’ lives so why couldn’t she summon the energy for it now? It was as if Natalie was an outsider watching her family from a distance and all the while she was drawing away, the facade of her life brittle, curling at the edges like an old photograph that had been left in the sun.
The voices from the kitchen were bright, loud, the girls all talking at once and then Olive’s chuckle. Natalie drew a deep breath, steeled herself for the evening ahead and stepped into the kitchen.
There was a pause in the conversation as she entered. Bree’s brow furrowed. Kate’s smile was encouraging, but Laura’s look was tentative.
“Have you been sleeping?” Olive inspected her. “You’re still looking pale.”
“Are you all right, Mum?” Kate asked, her dark eyes searching.
“I’m fine.” She crossed to stand beside Bree and reached for her apron. “You should be resting that leg.”
“I hope you girls haven’t been wearing your mother out,” Olive said.
“How would we wear her out?” It was Laura who asked, sitting between Kate and Olive at the end of the table. “We’re all grown up now, Granny.”
“Of course you are, darling.” Olive’s voice held only the slightest hint of sarcasm. “But mothers never stop worrying about their children. And with her teaching and the city visitors next week she’s got plenty on her plate.”
“What city visitors?” Kate asked.
“Is that next week?” Bree said at the same time.
“They can’t stay here, Olive,” Natalie said.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t allow that without asking you first but we did discuss the picnic in the creek.” Olive drew back her shoulders. Her sharp gaze pinned Natalie. “We have to do our bit for those less fortunate than ourselves.”
“We’re mustering then tailing, Granny.” Br
ee shook her head. “Next week’s not a good time for Dad or me to help out.”
“It’s just a picnic in the creek. Your mother and I can manage.”
“I can help,” Laura said and gave Olive a playful nudge. “Is it sausages and damper like last time?”
“Yes, and if you’re going to be there perhaps you could give rides on one of the bikes or the four-wheeler. They’re all younger women and I’m sure some of them would enjoy that.”
“I can do it if I’m still here,” Kate said.
“If you’re still here we’ll need help with the tailing,” Bree said.
“What day is it likely to be?” Kate ignored her sister.
“Not till Thursday or Friday. I wouldn’t book for early in the week when your mother is teaching.” Olive sounded affronted as if she was doing Natalie a favour by committing her precious days at home to works of charity. “The day is still to be confirmed.”
Natalie set the container of cauliflower rice she’d prepped earlier on top of the steamer with a thud and gripped the sides tightly. Behind her Laura was full of excitement.
“I haven’t helped out with a farm visit for years. It’ll be fun.”
“And not too much work if we all pitch in,” Olive said.
“Can someone set the table?” Natalie’s request was sharp. She glanced over her shoulder to see all eyes looking in her direction. She took a calming breath. “Your dad’s having a shower; he won’t be long then I can serve dinner.”
Bree moved to the cutlery drawer.
“I’ll do it.” Kate stood. “You should be sitting down.” They swapped places.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here now, Natalie,” Olive said. “I’d rather like a wine if you’re having one.”
And just like that Olive changed the subject, dismissing any discussion.
“You should have said before, Granny. I could have got you one.” Laura jumped up then frowned. “Although I think the bottle was emptied last night.”
“There should be another in the bottom of the fridge.” Natalie pointed to the crisper as Laura opened the door.
Laura rummaged then lifted a bottle triumphantly. “Yes. Do you want one, Mum?”
“Thanks.” Natalie nodded. Suddenly a glass of wine looked like a lifebuoy thrown to a drowning woman. Behind her the conversation picked up and went on, Olive pressing the girls for details about their lives. Natalie wiped down the sink. Normally she’d be part of the conversation but tonight she felt as if she was drifting somewhere beyond it. She checked the progress of the curry then took her seat at the table.
Olive smelled the air. “Is that curry?”
“It is.” Laura passed her one of the two glasses of wine she’d poured. “We had roast with Jack Halbot last night so Mum didn’t want to cook one tonight.”
Olive paused, her hand midway to the glass Laura offered. She looked at Natalie, a glint of irritation in her eyes. “Why was Jack Halbot here and why would he get my roast?”
“Don’t worry, Granny,” Kate said. “It was only mutton, not pork.”
“I love roast mutton. Saturday night is always roast night. It’s tradition.” Olive sniffed and took a sip of her wine. “Never been one for curry. It was always used to disguise rabbit in my younger days.”
“It’s chicken,” Natalie said.
“There’s cheesecake for afters,” Laura said brightly.
“And where am I to sleep tonight?” Olive glanced between Laura and Kate. “I usually take the guest bedroom but I assume one of you will be in there.”
Natalie blew out a quiet breath. She hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements.
“I’ll move in with Laura for the night,” Kate said.
“Or you can sleep in my spare room, Granny,” Bree offered.
“Thank you, Bree. No need for a whirlwind in a teacup. Your spare room would be best. Then I won’t be putting anyone out.”
Natalie gritted her teeth. Normally she ignored Olive’s sulking, which had become worse since Clem died, but she wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.
“Hello, Mum.” Milt strode in and bent to kiss his mother’s cheek.
“Milton, darling, don’t you smell nice.” Olive smiled at him with that adoring look reserved for her firstborn, her petulant look dispersed.
He took his seat at the top of the table.
“How’s the mustering going?” she asked and Milt filled her in on the day’s progress while Natalie rose to organise the meal.
Kate stepped up beside her. “I can help.”
“There’s no need.”
“Plates or bowls?” Kate stood her ground, opened the crockery cupboard and looked back, eyebrows raised.
“Bowls.” Natalie checked the cauli rice and handed it over for Kate to serve while she carried the slow cooker full of curry to the sink. Outside, around the property, her girls had worked beside their father since they were young. She had to remind herself that they were also capable of transferring those skills to household duties. She’d always expected them to make their beds, help keep the place tidy, but cooking and cleaning had been her domain. She did it without even thinking. She paused, one hand on the lid of the pot, and recalled the little book tucked away in her drawer. Or had she simply been conditioned?
The phone rang and Laura answered then waved the cordless receiver in the air. “For you, Mum.”
Natalie swapped a serving spoon for the handset and walked away from the activity to a quiet corner of the kitchen. “Hello.”
“Natalie? Hello, it’s Paul.”
She glanced back at the girls dishing the curry, hoping they wouldn’t put too much in Olive’s bowl. There would be no end of complaint if the serving was too big. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m just checking everything’s okay.”
“Watch you don’t slop it.” Kate’s tone was rough.
“You worry about what you’re doing,” Laura countered.
Natalie moved out into the passage. “Yes, everything’s fine.”
“That’s good.” There was a pause before he went on. “I thought I’d give you a ring because the other day you said there was a family problem and then someone mentioned in the staffroom they’d seen your daughter and mother-in-law at the hospital.”
Natalie took a deep breath. Nothing was ever private in a small town. “Bree had a bit of an accident on the bike. She’s okay.” Her voice sounded brusque. She softened her tone. “We’re all okay, Paul. Thanks for your concern.”
Once more there was a pause, a deep intake of breath. “It’s just that you seemed a bit upset when you left on Wednesday. Not your usual self.” Paul’s words had come out in a rush but he stopped again abruptly, took another deep breath. “I can arrange some time off for you if you…if you still need some. I’d be happy to organise it.”
Natalie’s initial irritation was replaced by remorse. It was good of him to check on her after she’d been so abrupt with him. “That’s kind of you.”
“Dinner’s on the table, Mum.”
She turned at Kate’s whisper from the door behind her and nodded in acknowledgment. “I have to go, Paul. Thanks, I should be fine but…” She’d planned to go back to work on Monday. After all, there was nothing wrong with her but perhaps a few days off would help her find her equilibrium again. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”
“Sure.” He sounded relieved.
“Thanks.” Natalie returned to the kitchen where Olive was about to say grace and replaced the handset in its cradle.
Olive murmured grace as soon as Natalie sat. “No point in our food going cold,” she added as an addendum to the amen. Then she poked at the meal in front of her with her fork. “I don’t know why we can’t have proper rice.”
Natalie stiffened and from the corner of her eye she saw Milt pause with his fork halfway to his mouth. He wouldn’t even know it was cauli instead of rice if Olive hadn’t mentioned it.
“Cauliflower’s better for you, Granny,” Laura sai
d.
No-one else spoke. Milt put a forkful of food into his mouth, a slightly puzzled look on his face. Natalie tucked into hers and the rest followed.
The girls were full of chat. They’d finished the curry and Kate was helping Natalie serve the cheesecake when Olive asked why Jack had come for dinner.
“Dad asked him,” Laura said.
Natalie turned in time to see a glance pass between Milt and Olive. It was only the briefest of glimpses but Natalie was sure her mother-in-law’s look had been questioning and Milt’s chastened. Surely Olive didn’t know. All these years Milt’s indiscretion had been a secret kept between him, Natalie and, to her eternal mortification, her father-in-law, Clem. Did Olive know about her son’s cheating too? And if she knew about that, did she know the truth about Jack? Nausea squirmed in Natalie’s stomach.
“Dad didn’t want Jack to be on his own,” Bree said. “He’d just got the news his mum has cancer.”
“Oh, well…” Olive looked down at the serve of cheesecake Natalie had placed firmly on the table in front of her. “That’s sad news.” Her tone implied Veronica had died. There was silence around the table as Natalie and Kate delivered the rest of the bowls.
Damn Veronica, Natalie thought, she’s casting her shadow over my family again. Natalie had worked so hard to eradicate her, thought she’d succeeded.
“Hey,” Laura said brightly. “I’ve brought the Mamma Mia! sequel DVD. Why don’t we watch that tonight after dinner?”
Bree groaned.
“I’d love to see it,” Olive said.
“I’d rather have a tattoo,” Bree moaned.
“Don’t be silly, Bree.” Olive gave her granddaughter a disapproving look. “It’s lovely when we’re all together and a cheerful movie would be just the thing.” She shifted her gaze to Laura. “I assume it is cheerful?”
“Of course it is.” Laura beamed. “It’s so long since we had a family movie night.”
“I’ll pass,” Milt said.
“Oh come on, Dad.” Kate gave him a gentle poke. “You know how much you love a good love story.”
Milt snorted and Olive gave a soft clap of her hands.
“Why don’t you girls take your dessert into the den and get started? I need to talk to your dad. I won’t be long.”
The Model Wife Page 13