The Model Wife

by Tricia Stringer

  Natalie sat forward. “I’m sure I did that?”

  “No.”

  “No wonder I was having trouble making things balance. I’m sorry, Milt. I don’t think I’ve been on top of the bookwork lately.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been much help to you in that department. I’m going to improve.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “This new corner office is a start and we can talk about other things I can do later, but guess who was draining that old account?”

  “Not Connie?”

  “Yes, Connie.” He waved his hands in the air. “Mum had allowed it, of course, but Connie had wheedled it out of her playing the ‘poor me, I didn’t inherit the farm’ card.”

  Natalie was instantly angry with her sister-in-law. She’d been given so much over the years. Clem had been very generous with his daughter, but then Natalie felt a little sorry for Connie. “She’s never had her own separate income.”

  “You’re not making excuses for her, Natalie.”

  “I guess she didn’t get a choice about the property like our girls have.”

  Milt’s eyes flashed with anger. “I didn’t get a choice either. It was expected I would work the property. No-one asked me what I wanted to do. I had a duty to take it on.”

  “But I always thought you loved the property, the work, the lifestyle.” She had questioned so much of her own life in the last few weeks without thinking her husband might be questioning his.

  “It’s not always been easy but it has been a good life. I just get annoyed when it’s assumed I had a choice in the matter. Connie was expected to go to uni and I was expected to run the property but sometimes I wonder if I’d grown up in the town or in the city, perhaps I could have done something else.”

  “Like what?” It was hard to imagine her Milt as anything but a farmer.

  “Fly planes.” He threw his arms out, knocking some papers off the desk.

  “Really?”

  “No.” He gave her a sideways look as he bent to pick up the papers. “But I often wondered about the life of a fireman.”

  She smiled. “Every little boy’s dream.”

  “Maybe.”

  The reflective look on his face made her pause. Perhaps he truly had thought about it.

  “You were in the Country Fire Service for years; you could go back or you could join the Emergency Service.”

  “I’m too old.”

  “Milt, you’re turning sixty next birthday. That’s not old. They don’t knock back volunteers who’ve got two strong legs and a level head on their shoulders.”

  Milt shrugged and went back to the desk. She watched him take some more measurements and thought back to her early days on the property.

  “It’s funny, isn’t it?” she said. “When we were first married I really wanted to become more involved in the running of the property.”

  He looked back at her. “But you had your teaching.”

  “I know and I loved it but I sometimes wonder if I’d been allowed to learn more about the stock and become more involved than cooking and paperwork and roustabout duties, perhaps I might have…learned to be more help in other ways.”

  “You just told me we’re not old. It’s not too late.”

  She thought about that as she sipped her coffee and he kept fiddling around the desk. When she’d left home she’d questioned her existence and part of the reason had been the knowledge that her own sixtieth birthday was only two years away. While she’d been away she’d worked out there were still plenty of things she wanted to do with her life. “I love the property but my interests have changed and I don’t think we’re too old to try something new.”

  “Which reminds me, I haven’t told you about the paperwork the girls and I sorted with the lawyer last week. Everything’s in our names now, yours and mine until Bree decides what she wants to do.”

  “I thought everything was in our names already.”

  “Not Mum’s unit in town and several other assets. We were joint owners with her but now it’s just us. We’ve paid for that place, for her car, and Connie’s not going to get her hands on them.”

  “Fair enough.” She could see Milt’s temper rising.

  “And I’ve made it clear to Bree that she needs to decide whether she wants to take the place on or not, before I turn sixty-five.”

  “We discussed that after Clem died.”

  “We’d started talking about a decision date but we hadn’t made it definite.”

  “You can’t push her, Milt. I think she wants to stay on the property. This thing at Marla is only temporary.”

  “I know.” His look softened and he sat in the chair opposite her, his big hands resting on the table. “I’ve talked with her about it. I wanted to be clear that Bree has a choice.”

  Natalie suddenly understood what he was trying to say. “Because you didn’t.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to be like my father and die with my boots on either. I want you and I to do other things, maybe move off the property to our own place while we’re young enough to start again…travel.”

  Natalie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her husband and the word travel.

  “I’ve given Bree time,” he said. “But there’s a line in the sand and if she doesn’t want to stay we’ll sell the lot, buy a motorhome and go around Australia.”

  “Wait.” Natalie glared at him. “What do you mean a motorhome?” There was no way she was moving from her big house to be confined in such a small space.

  Milt chuckled. “That got your attention.”

  She relaxed. He’d been teasing her. Once upon a time he’d done that a lot. So much had changed in their lives in recent years.

  Later in the day Natalie strolled back down the passage. She’d been up in her bedroom unpacking and had added another layer to her clothes for warmth. She paused at Laura’s room and looked in. The bed wasn’t made but the rest of the room had been tidied up at least. She moved on. The next door was firmly shut. Olive was resting in there. Natalie wasn’t sure how long her mother-in-law planned to stay but if she was still here tomorrow night, Kate and Sean would have to sleep in Bree’s spare room.

  She let herself into the kitchen where Laura was on her own, chopping vegetables. Bree and Milt were both working outside.

  Natalie gave her daughter a hug. “That soup we had for lunch was delicious.”

  “Thanks. Granny made the bone broth the day before.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Preparing a stir fry.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure.” Laura passed her a chopping board, a knife and some carrots.

  “Dad said you and Granny have been doing lots of cooking.”

  “The freezer’s full again.” Laura glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Why did Granny move into town?”

  Natalie paused her chopping and thought about Olive’s announcement not long after Clem’s death that she’d found a unit in town. Natalie and Milt had both been taken by surprise. “She said it was something she and Pa had planned to do and she wanted to have her own place.”

  Laura stopped chopping too. “You and Dad didn’t ask her to leave?”

  “Of course not. Why would you think that? Did Olive say—”

  “No. Granny hasn’t mentioned it but…we’ve spent a bit of time together while you were away and…well, I think she’s lonely.”

  “It was her choice to move.”

  Laura winced. “While you were away I cleaned for her and when I told Dad you usually did it he got cross.”

  “I don’t know why; he knew I did it.”

  “I don’t think he realised how much you did. Anyway, yesterday Granny and I gave the lounge and dining room here a going-over.”

  “That was kind of you. I hope Olive didn’t overdo it though.”

  “She mostly sat in the chair and gave instructions but she said something while she was dusting the photos. She said if she didn�
�t live in the unit it would be less work for you.”

  “I suppose she’s right. I didn’t mind at first but recently…I’ve been thinking I’d investigate some home help for her.”

  “I think she made a mistake,” Laura said.

  “A mistake?”

  “Moving into town. I think she’d rather still be here at the farm with her family.” Laura went back to her chopping and Natalie felt the stirrings of guilt. It had been Olive’s decision to move but she’d been happy to help her, encouraged her even. Natalie had started talking about making over rooms, delighted at the prospect of being totally in charge of her own home after all those years of sharing. She remembered making a joke about not needing to form a committee to make changes any more and Olive’s response. It had been swift. “That’s why I’m moving. I’ve never had a place of my own,” she’d said. It had taken Natalie aback. She’d often hated the fact she couldn’t make decisions about her own home but that had been Olive’s lot as well. She’d moved into Clem’s family home with her parents-in-law and they’d only moved to a retirement home a little before Milt met Natalie. Like Natalie, Olive had never had her own space.

  “Mum, there’s something else.”

  Natalie dragged her thoughts back. Laura’s voice had that edge to it again.

  “I’ve met someone. I really like him and…he’s…he’s someone you know.”

  Natalie’s heart froze as she imagined Jack Halbot’s smiling face, his hand on Laura’s hair, but then she remembered he wasn’t Milt’s son so…

  “It’s Paul Brown.”

  “Oh.” The breath she’d been holding rushed out.

  “Mum, I know you don’t like him.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like him.”

  “What then?”

  “It’s nothing. I’m glad you’ve met someone.”

  “He thinks you’re great.”

  “Does he?”

  “He’s raved about what a fantastic teacher you are and how you’re willing to share your experience with the new teachers and watch out for them.”

  “Did he?” That was a big surprise. “Well, that’s kind of him. He has nice manners and he’s…he’s a…”

  “A nice young man.” Laura giggled and hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re home, Mum. And you look so well.” Laura pulled back. “Bree and Kate and I were worried. We thought perhaps there was something wrong and you weren’t telling us.”

  “Nothing wrong that a holiday didn’t fix.” Natalie picked up her knife again. There were things between her and Milt that she could never talk to her girls about.

  Olive came in then. “Anyone for a cuppa?”

  Laura flicked the kettle on. “Sure, Granny.”

  A few minutes later the three of them were around the table with their cups.

  “Milt said you were staying at the Halbots’ apartment,” Olive said. “How is Veronica?”

  Natalie took in Olive’s sharp look and the formal tone she’d taken when she mentioned Veronica. Milt had said his mother knew about the night he and Vee had been together and yet she’d never let on to Natalie.

  “She seems to be holding up well,” Natalie said.

  “Treatment improves all the time.”

  “She’s trying to stay positive. She was looking forward to coming home.” Natalie thought about the evening they’d spent together. After they’d eaten Veronica had talked about how much she missed her garden and Natalie had talked about how much she longed for a garden, and she’d been invited for a visit to the Halbots’ property. “She’ll be here until next week. I thought I’d call in and see her.”

  “Really?” Olive’s tone was censorial.

  “She has a beautiful garden. I’d like to see it properly. Get some ideas. It’s a shame we haven’t kept in touch. We both thought we should change that.”

  Olive remained silently stony-faced.

  “Are you planning on doing some gardening?” Laura asked.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Gardens are a lot of work.” Olive sniffed. “You won’t have time.”

  “Veronica’s is all planned out. She has certain jobs for each time of the year and she has watering systems in place. You know she can even set them going from her phone?”

  “Modern technology, Mum.” Laura smirked.

  She turned to her mother-in-law. It was time to offer an olive branch, she thought, and smiled at her pun. “I’d like your advice, Olive.”

  “I don’t know anything about gardens.”

  “We could do some planning, get some help, learn together. The front garden would look pretty with a border of roses, don’t you think?”

  Olive’s sharp gaze softened. “Clem would have liked that.”

  “We could go the day after tomorrow, once Sean and Kate have left,” Natalie said. “And, Laura, I’d like you to come too.”

  “To look at gardens?” Laura groaned.

  “I thought you might be able to give Veronica some advice. Her hair’s starting to fall out and it’s upset her more than anything else.”

  Laura tapped her lips. “I styled a few ladies while they were having cancer treatment when I was still at the salon and Paul’s got me lined up to do a home visit for another lady.”

  “I’m sure Veronica would be pleased to have you visit her.”

  Bree strode in at that point. “Well, it’s all right for some. Dad and I have been working.”

  Natalie smiled at her middle daughter. Bree was working like a trojan doing as much as she could before she left for Marla on Friday. “Would you like a coffee, Bree? And some of Laura’s chocolate cake.”

  Bree’s stance softened. “Thanks. I was hoping someone could come out with me and help shift some sheep.”

  “I will,” Laura said.

  “No.” Natalie got up to make the coffee. “You’re preparing dinner. I’ll go. I have to get my hand in again for when Bree’s in Marla.”

  “And I am still capable of driving a ute and opening a gate,” Olive said. “We can all pitch in while you’re away, Bree.”

  Natalie put Bree’s coffee on the table.

  “How’s the fundraiser coming along, Laura?” Bree asked. “Dad and I were trying to work out what would be best for a donation.”

  “What fundraiser?” Natalie asked.

  “It’s a community thing going towards breast cancer,” Bree said.

  “Paul says it might not happen.” Laura looked glum.

  “Why ever not?” Olive asked.

  “A few people have dropped out and I think it needs someone to take charge. Paul hasn’t got the time and he doesn’t know so many people.”

  Natalie smiled. “Has anyone asked Nancy?”

  Thirty-Seven

  Crowds streamed through the oval gates as soon as they were opened. People were rugged up with coats and boots against the cold July day but, after watching the weather report anxiously all week, the sky was almost clear of clouds making for a perfect winter’s day. The district had rallied once Nancy had taken the helm and the oval was well covered with stalls and activities of all descriptions, and they were confident the fundraiser would go well.

  From their position behind their cake stall, set up at a vantage point near the entrance, Natalie and Olive took in the festive sight before them. They smiled then winced as Nancy’s voice blared from the loudspeaker.

  “Welcome, everyone, to the district Cancer Council fundraiser. Our stalls are open for business so please open your wallets and purses and dig deep.” There was a crackle and a squeal then Nancy was back. “And Mr Brown would like all participants for the bike-a-thon to meet at the southern end of the oval immediately. More information will be broadcast as it comes to hand. Enjoy the day.” There was a final loud thud, a scratching sound and then music began to play.

  Natalie just had time to give Veronica a thumbs-up at her plant stall next door before a crowd of people gathered in front of the cake stall. Immediately the combined baking efforts
of Natalie, Laura and Olive were being snapped up.

  Surprisingly, Fran from the bakery was one of the first to buy some cakes. “I love the names you’ve thought up,” she said as she picked up a tray of Laura’s Luscious Lamingtons and another of Milton’s Mouth-watering Melting Moments.

  “It was Laura’s idea,” Natalie said as she took Fran’s money. “She thought it made everything sound much more tempting.”

  “Anything you make is tempting, Nat,” Fran said. “Perhaps I’ll have to get Joe to rename some of our buns at the bakery.”

  “Your pies all have exotic names, why not your buns?”

  “What about Fran’s Fancy Finger Buns?” Olive pitched in.

  Fran chuckled and moved on and the next person stepped up.

  Nancy was back at the loudspeaker letting everyone know the hair shaving and cutting was about to begin in the central marquee. Laura had offered to do the cutting, one of the girls from a local salon was doing the head shaves and the volunteers from the wig library had brought some wigs along for people to try. Some had chosen to have their hair dyed bright pink before the event and were helping gee up the crowd.

  Olive took out some more cakes from the boxes of extras they’d brought. “I think Laura went a bit over the side when she named these,” she said as she set two cakes down in a space on the table. “I didn’t even make them. Everyone knows orange cake is your speciality.”

  Natalie grinned at the names Laura had stuck on. “I think Olive’s Out of this World Orange Cake is perfect. It’s your recipe I always use. And anyway, Milt certainly didn’t make the melting moments.”

  “Laura’s worked hard for today,” Olive said. “I know everyone has but she’s gone the extra distance.”

  “She certainly has.” Natalie took in the pretty checked bunting strung along the front of their table that Laura had insisted would add some style to their cake stall and had roped Natalie into sewing together the previous night. “She’s got an eye for detail.”

  Paul strode past with a folder in his hand and gave them a brief wave.