The Model Wife

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by Tricia Stringer


  “That’s him.” Kate’s head was lowered over her own screen again. “They were at the shack over the weekend.”

  “That would have been entertaining.” Bree drained her beer. “Your Sean is a saint to put up with a friend like Damo.”

  From beyond the kitchen the back door banged. They heard the low rumble of Jack’s voice followed by a hearty laugh from Milt.

  “Sounds like Dad’s in a good mood.” Laura tucked her phone into her pocket and stood up. “I’ll start cooking the schnitzels.”

  Bree hoped his mood had improved. She hadn’t seen him since the middle of the day when she’d been the one to drive their lunch out to the paddock. He’d been testy then because they’d been having trouble with a breakaway mob who’d spread out into some prickly scrub. The way he’d spoken it was as if it was Bree’s fault the sheep had done a runner and she hadn’t even been there.

  Milt’s chuckle rumbled cheerfully again. Obviously Jack Halbot didn’t annoy him like she did. She looked over at Kate who was staring at her phone as if it was about to reveal the meaning of life. “You okay?” she asked.

  Kate looked up, her dark-brown eyes pools of uncertainty. “Yeah.” She stood up as the two men arrived in the kitchen. “I’ll get the drinks.”

  Dinner was over, and Jack had gone home, Bree had retreated to her quarters and their father disappeared to bed when Kate’s phone rang. She dragged herself up from her chair in the den where she and Laura had been watching some reality TV show about dating. She glanced at the phone she’d been clutching in her hand since the last time she’d tried to ring Sean straight after dinner. She blew out a soft breath before she answered, relieved as much to see the picture of his smiling face as to be released from that appalling show.

  “Hey, Katie-Q,” he said as she put the phone to her ear.

  “Hello yourself.” She made her way to her bedroom and shut the door. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “And I’ve tried to call you.”

  “I was probably out in the paddock.”

  “We’ve been playing phone tag.” He chuckled, lightening the mood. “I’ve been in and out of signal range myself. I didn’t leave the shack till this morning then Dad had work lined up for me.”

  He was speaking quickly and she could hear cupboards banging in the background.

  “Have you eaten?” she asked, realising it was after nine.

  “Just throwing something together now.”

  “How was the weekend?”

  “Great…exhausting really. I feel like an old man compared to Damo and Shortie. I’d forgotten how much they can toss back and then line up and do it all again the next day.”

  “Poor you.” She sat on the edge of the bed and waited to find out more, not wanting to ask.

  “Do we have any tomatoes?” Sean said.

  “Try the crisper.”

  “How’re your mum and dad?”

  “They’re good. Mum’s had to go to Victor to help look after the grandparents but they’re doing okay. Dad’s his usual frantic self during mustering so I’ve decided to stay on, at least till Mum gets back.”

  “Great idea. I’ll let my mum know.”

  “Already done it. She’s got the office under control till I get back.”

  “If you’re staying I’ll call in your way. I’ve got to take sheep up north and I’ll have an empty truck on the way back. I’ll need to stop somewhere and I’d rather share a bed with my wife than the bunk in the truck.”

  Kate’s spirits lifted at that. “When are you coming through?”

  “I should be there by Thursday evening…in time for dinner.”

  There was a clattering sound and Sean swore.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  There was a grunt then, “The bloody crisper just fell out of the fridge.”

  “Did it break?”

  “No, but there was something rotten in the bottom.” He groaned. “It’s gone everywhere.”

  Kate wrinkled her nose. “I thought I’d had a thorough clean-out in the fridge before I left.”

  “This resembles something that might once have been a cucumber.”

  “Ugh!”

  “Yep. It’s putrid. I’d better go. I’ll have to clean this up or everything else will be tainted with it. I’ll ring you tomorrow night.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  She flopped back on the bed, replaying their conversation in her head. He’d sounded tired. No doubt still recovering from his male-bonding weekend. She picked up her phone, selected Facebook and scrolled till she found the pictures again. Sean’s job meant he was away from home a lot and she’d never once doubted his faithfulness but as she stared at the photo of him with another woman and a baby in his arms a huge lump of jealousy lodged in her chest. It wasn’t so much the woman as the way he held the baby, and the big bright smile on his face.

  Thirteen

  Natalie pulled her jacket tight against the stiff breeze rolling along the street from the Great Australian Bight with the chill of Antarctica on its breath and wished she’d brought her thick coat. Regardless of the weather, after three days with her father – wait, no, it was Thursday, so that made four days – she needed to get out. They’d picked up her mother on Tuesday and with three of them confined to the unit Natalie wanted some escape from their enquiring and sometimes censuring conversations.

  She ducked into the sanctuary of a little coffee shop and let the warmth wash over her.

  “Same as usual?” the bright young thing behind the counter asked.

  “Gosh. Have I been in that often?”

  The young woman smiled warmly. “I like to remember regular customers. Flat white, no sugar.”

  “Thanks.” Natalie chose a piece of lemon slice to go with it, paid and found herself a table in the corner, her back to the wall. Her dad had brought her here the morning after she arrived. She’d come twice more with him and then yesterday on her own when she’d needed to escape the confines of her parents’ unit, and here she was doing it again.

  Usually when they were together there were more family members present and Natalie had the buffer of others, and it had been a tricky few days with just the three of them, their few topics of conversation exhausted. Her parents were outwardly welcoming but she felt on tenterhooks the whole time, being careful about what she said, and she could see them doing the same. She reassured herself her parents did love her, and she them, but there was a distance between them that may as well have been as wide as the ocean outside for their – or her – lack of ability to cross it.

  Last night Bron had called in briefly after dinner. Full of chat about the highs and lows of school camp and the antics of her twins, she’d brought a breath of fresh air to the unit and an animation to her parents that had been lacking when it was just Natalie with them. Bronwyn was their favourite. She always had been, it was so obvious even Bron had picked up on it, but she was never smug about it. Natalie didn’t feel real jealousy – perhaps a bit when she was younger but not now, and not of her sister. If she felt anything it was disappointment that her parents didn’t see Natalie or their granddaughters as much as they could. She was simply resigned to their stilted relationship and even more thankful that she was close to her own girls.

  Her coffee arrived, a tiny biscuit nestling in the accompanying teaspoon and a generous serve of slice on a plate. “Thank you,” she said as the waitress whipped away to serve another customer. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock so the early-morning coffee rush was over and the mid-morning partakers not yet arrived.

  Natalie found herself itching to get back to the property again, knowing her girls were all there together. Giving herself space had been a good thing. The concerns that had been stirred about Milt’s past with Veronica had eased. Laura had kept her filled in on events at home, and evidently Jack had been for a meal again, but here, with only her parents in need of her – and they asked for little – Natalie had been able to put the events of the last week in
to perspective, of sorts.

  It had been a shock to go through the tests for breast cancer and then another shock to find Veronica in Milt’s arms, but she’d replayed it a million times and had decided it was as Milt had said. He couldn’t ignore Veronica in her time of need. Natalie had convinced herself her fear that Milt and Veronica had kept in touch behind her back was ridiculous and had made the decision to believe Jack couldn’t be Milt’s son. It was the only way to keep her family and her sanity intact. She sometimes thought about her life as being in two parts, pre and post glitch. Maybe now she could add a new branch and call it before and after the anomaly. It was as if a curtain had been drawn to reveal a new scene, one in which she wasn’t sure she knew herself.

  “BA and AA.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and glanced around but no-one had noticed her talking to herself.

  She took a sip of her coffee and pushed her absurd thoughts away. Instead she pictured home and her husband and wondered what he was thinking of her time away. Their conversations had been brief while she’d been in Victor. Since they’d first been together they’d spent so little time apart that phone calls, other than requests to collect something or messages regarding their whereabouts, were rare, and so Natalie found it difficult to gauge Milt’s mood from his stiff tone and getting information was like pulling hen’s teeth. He’d muttered something about his mother and Connie but said he was dealing with it.

  It worried Natalie to think Connie could want to take more from the property than she’d already received but it was best sorted between mother and son. As long as Natalie’s girls didn’t lose out, and if that looked likely she’d put up a fight. She’d mentioned taking a holiday again to Milt but that had been met with more grumbles.

  She glanced down at her bag where a pile of travel brochures poked from the top. She’d felt so annoyed at his last rebuttal she’d suggested she might go by herself. That had silenced him, then one of the girls had called out and their talk had ended. Another unsatisfactory conversation with her husband.

  Besides Laura’s updates, there’d been one text from Bree and a call and a text from Kate. They were all managing without her so she was to stay as long as she needed, according to Bree, but they missed her and hoped she would be home soon, from Kate.

  Natalie took a sip of her coffee and reached into her bag, drawing out the bundle of brochures and piling them on the table in front of her. On her walk yesterday she’d called into a travel agency and collected a wide selection of holiday options. Regardless of Bree going away – Natalie wondered if she’d told her dad about that yet – and Milt’s rumblings that there was too much to do, there was definitely going to be some kind of holiday this year. Not to the usual beach, not to Victor, but to somewhere far away, interstate or even overseas. Her friend Brenda always said you had to put two state borders and a body of water between you and home to have a proper holiday.

  Natalie pictured Brenda’s vibrant smile. Dear Bren, they’d been through a lot together, helped each other through the good and the bad. Brenda had never known about Milt and Veronica though. That had happened before she married Martin and moved to the property next door. Natalie was glad her friend didn’t know. Brenda thought Milt was a saint second only to her own dear Martin. There’d been times over the years when Natalie had felt angry with Milt over something and Brenda with Martin and they’d vented their annoyance together. Sometimes Natalie had been sorely tempted to confide in Brenda, let her friend know about Milt and Veronica, but she’d always held back. Once that cat was out of the bag there was no putting it back and the past was the past.

  Natalie picked up the top brochure. It was well thumbed; they all were. She’d pored over them last night after her parents had gone to bed, excited by each new possibility, looking for something that would be so irresistible that Milt would want to go without putting up an argument. Hong Kong had always fascinated her, and Singapore. She’d toyed ever so briefly with the idea of a teaching position in an international school there once but she would’ve had to commit for two years and that had been out of the question.

  The lush green of an island rising out of a turquoise sea attracted her attention. Thailand was a possibility, or Vietnam. Anywhere in Asia was enticing and it wasn’t that far to go for their first trip overseas. She’d made sure they had passports a few years back but at this rate they’d be out of date before they’d had a chance to even get a stamp.

  She put the European tours to one side, too far for now, and picked up another on the Northern Territory. They could escape the harsh cold of winter for the warmth of the tropics. It was the brochure with the camels mirrored in the glassy beach, a golden sun low in the sky, that she kept going back to. Broome and the Kimberley region intrigued her and she thought with more hope than surety it might interest Milt too.

  “Dad said I might find you here.”

  Natalie looked up at her sister in surprise then glanced around. She’d been so absorbed in her brochures she hadn’t even noticed the tables around her had filled with the mid-morning coffee crowd.

  “What are you doing out?”

  “It’s not that busy at the shop and my darling husband suggested I catch up with you while you’re still here.”

  “Am I going somewhere?”

  “I rang Mum to say I was calling in to catch up with you. She thought you’d be off home later today.”

  “Did she?”

  “Milt’s under the pump with lamb tailing, she said.”

  Natalie sighed, recalling the conversation over breakfast. “I said Milt was mustering then tailing. Mum thought he’d be needing my help but I said I would have been at work the last three days anyway and only helping at home today. Mum said she didn’t want them to be an extra burden for me and I said they weren’t. She said you were here if they needed…” Her shoulders slumped. Her mother had bustled her out of the kitchen when she’d offered to cook the previous evening. She’d done her best to be the dutiful daughter but Natalie was no longer required.

  Bronwyn shrugged her shoulders. “They’re fiercely independent. Don’t take it personally. I don’t usually get to do too much.”

  “I bet you’d be allowed to cook for them.”

  “Ha. You’ve tasted my food, right? I didn’t get the cooking gene from Mum like you did. She won’t let me in her kitchen and insists on bringing food when she comes our way. It’s just they’ve both had a bit of a setback. They’re not as young as they used to be but they’ll be fine.” Bronwyn picked up her empty cup. “Fancy another coffee?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you still take milk?”

  Natalie nodded. “Evidently I’m a regular. The young lady behind the counter knows how I like my coffee.”

  She had to admit while her parents seemed to have aged markedly since Christmas they weren’t quite in their dotage. She’d become used to her dad’s gaunt appearance and realised he wasn’t as frail as he’d first appeared. If they hadn’t been visiting her mum or having a coffee in this shop and he wasn’t watching sport on TV, he spent a lot of time tinkering in the garden shed he’d set up as a workshop. Funny really, because she’d never thought of her dad as the practical type but he’d taken to restoring kids’ toys for a local charity. And in spite of her mum’s trip or fall, the doctor had given her the all-clear and she was talking about playing golf again in some competition tomorrow. Natalie’s help was no longer needed.

  She picked up her brochures, gave one last look to the image of camels walking on a beach against the backdrop of a golden sunset and slipped them back into her bag as Bronwyn slid onto the seat opposite.

  “Planning a holiday?”

  “I’d like to. Getting Milt away from the property is the hard part.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “I don’t know, anywhere really. Overseas might be a push for Milt so somewhere warm like Broome perhaps.”

  “I dream of holidaying, anywhere at all, as long as I have to do absolutely nothing
but lounge around and be pampered by attentive waiters.” Bronwyn gave a soft snort. “School camp wasn’t quite up to scratch. The kids had a ball though. I wish there were camps that took them for school holidays. You know, like you hear American kids do. My boys would take to it like ducks to water and it would be a holiday for me without them for a few days. I love them to bits but they’re full on.”

  Natalie studied her sister. Her hair could do with a cut, there was a hint of grey at her temples she’d not noticed before and her make-up didn’t mask the dark shadows under her eyes. She looked like a woman who needed a break. “Why don’t we take a holiday together?” It was impulsive but they could both do with getting away.

  “What?”

  “It’s been a long time since we spent some proper time together where we weren’t juggling kids…” She twisted her lips in a wry smile. “And now parents. We wouldn’t have to go far, but at least interstate.” Natalie glanced out at the bleak day. “Somewhere warmer than here.” Enthusiasm for her idea grew, lifting her lagging spirits.

  Bronwyn held her gaze. “You’re serious.”

  “Yes, I am. Wouldn’t it be great to get away?”

  The waitress arrived with their coffees. “You’re not waiting for anything else?”

  “No, thanks,” they both said together.

  The waitress whisked away the number that had stood in the middle of the little table between them. Natalie smiled at Bronwyn, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it before. If Milt wouldn’t leave the bloody property, she could, and she’d take a holiday with her sister.

  “Where would you like to go?” She’d taken Bronwyn’s silence for interest in the idea.

  Bronwyn lifted her cup, took a sip of her coffee then leaned in, lowered her voice. “We can’t afford a few days off let alone going away on a holiday. Marcus wants to go to uni next year and I don’t know how we’re going to manage that.”

 

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