by Thalia Lark
‘She won’t be discharged by Friday.’ I paused for a moment before shaking my head slowly and climbing back up to my bed, my hands and feet almost numb the air was so cold in the dormitory. I dragged my blankets back around me and sat with my arms circling my knees.
Emma frowned and brushed her ginger hair off her forehead before crawling carefully across Lori’s bunk bed to mine. Lori was snuggled up against the far side of her mattress, cocooned in her doona, so I didn’t think the movement would wake her, but as Emma reached me and I dragged the blankets around to encompass us both, Lori stirred, raised her head suddenly and looked over at us in confusion.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Juli’s mum is in hospital.’
Lori’s puffy eyes widened and she struggled out of her blankets clumsily, climbing over to join us as I laughed a little at her gracelessness. We bundled together at the end of my bed and I sighed, staring at my knees as it slowly dawned on me just how unmanageable things were getting. Sitting there together, and realising how close we’d become, and how little control I had over the situation, I realised there was no point in hiding the truth anymore.
‘It’s not the flu that Mum’s got.’ I glanced at them apologetically, and then gave them a brief rundown on the Social Services involvement. At their subsequent exclamations of shock, I frowned and raised a hand to warn them to keep quiet.
‘So now your mum’s in hospital?’ Emma asked. ‘You don’t reckon anything too serious has happened, do you?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She said she started medication a week ago, but she didn’t say what for. I mean, I know I’ll be fine. I can easily stay at Lori’s this holiday if I can’t get home. But there’s no one to look after the property, and our animals don’t just feed themselves.’ I sighed, my forehead furrowing. I knew the horses in the paddock would be fine, at least for a few weeks – there was plenty of grass and the creek ran right along our boundary line. But what if the dogs were locked up? What if Mum had left the mares in the holding yard? If the troughs were even full, they might have water for a few days, but there was absolutely nothing they could eat in there.
Emma reached up an arm to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. ‘There’ll be a way around this somehow.’
‘I don’t even know if the animals have been looked after in the last week. Mum didn’t say how long she’s been in hospital. She might have neglected the animals weeks ago and they’re all just – lying in their graves by now.’
‘I’m sure something was organised if your mum was taken to hospital,’ Lori said.
I nodded, trying to feel hopeful but failing. I propped my elbows on my knees and rested my chin in my hands, frowning into the distance. ‘I need to get back home. I don’t have any other choice. Even if it’s just for a few days to feed the animals and make sure everything’s in order.’
‘Mrs Bentley won’t let you go home alone, will she?’ Emma asked.
I shook my head.
‘I’m sure my mum would love to help out,’ Lori said, ‘but she’s got five kids, you know? And Dad works away, so it’s a little difficult to leave the house. Plus, plane tickets are – well, you know…’
I nodded.
‘Is there anyone you could ask to look after the property?’ Emma asked. ‘You know, like a neighbour or something?’
I shrugged. ‘Dunno. We’ve never really talked to our neighbours. The only contact I’ve had with them in the last ten years is when our cattle broke through one of the boundary fences.’ I gave a strangled groan of frustration suddenly, putting my hands over my face and shaking my head. ‘This is all just such a fucking mess.’
Hands chafed against my shoulder-blades gently.
‘What about your dad?’
I let my hands fall from my eyes and glanced sideways at Emma. ‘What?’
‘I mean, could your dad fly up and look after the animals for a bit?’ She shrugged, looking between us both uncertainly. ‘Maybe he could help organise things until your mum’s back up and running.’
I frowned. ‘I haven’t spoken to him in nearly two years.’
‘He lives in Melbourne now, doesn’t he?’
I nodded and then hesitated, my eyes narrowing as I shook my head dubiously. ‘I don’t know. He’s got a whole life in the city now. I can’t see him wanting to get wrapped up in all this farm shit again.’
‘He’s been a dairy farmer his entire life, Juli,’ Emma said. ‘I’m sure he’s used to farm shit by now. Besides, from what you’ve told us about what he used to be like – you know, before he left – I’m sure he’d do this for you. I mean, you’re his daughter.’
I was silent.
‘Would there be any problem in just asking him?’
I frowned as I mulled her question over, my mood rapidly turning indignant. Yes, I thought. Yes, there would be a problem. The problem was that a year and a half ago my father cheated on my mother and then suddenly picked up and left, leaving his fourteen-year-old daughter and her negligent mother with an entire farm to manage on only a third of the property’s regular income. I didn’t know how I felt about asking him for help now. I didn’t know whether I wanted to mix myself up in that again, whether I wanted to invite someone who would do those sorts of things back into my life. Most especially, I was afraid that if I went ahead and asked for his assistance, like my friends suggested, I’d just end up getting hurt again.
‘Isn’t it worth a shot?’ Lori looped an arm through mine. ‘I mean, he could help sort something out about the property at the very least. He’s sure to have connections in Warrabeela still.’
Lori had a point. And I didn’t really have many more options. Social Services weren’t going to worry about pets, that was for sure; as long as I was safe, and my mother was being looked after, then their job was done. My father seemed to be the only way out of this conundrum. Though I was hesitant at first, after a few minutes of silent reflection on Emma’s idea, I slowly came to realise that asking my dad was not a wholly inconceivable option. After all, the father that I used to know loved the animals and the farm just as much as I did. Perhaps, if I was fortunate enough, a little of that father was still there.
‘What do you think?’ Emma asked quietly.
‘I think he’s probably my last hope.’ I pursed my lips as my insides tightened with an uncomfortable mix of agitation and resentment. ‘I’ll ask Mrs Bentley to call him after breakfast.’
Emma gave my hand a gentle squeeze. ‘It’ll all work out, don’t worry.’
‘Yeah. I can’t imagine how shitty this feels.’
I scowled. ‘Enough with the sympathy already.’
They both laughed quietly, and I managed to smile a little along with them, and then we sank back against my pillow and waited until the dormitory was light enough to get dressed.
I knocked on Mrs Bentley’s office door a little after eight, having wolfed down my breakfast and asked Lori and Emma to take my pots back to the kitchen. The principal called me inside and I approached her desk quietly, my palms already clammy.
‘Hello there,’ Mrs Bentley said, looking up at me with a kind smile. ‘I was going to call you up here today. I’ve finally heard back from Social Services – they’ll be visiting you Thursday afternoon.’ She paused, the skin around her eyes tightening a little as she motioned to the padded chair on the other side of her desk. I sat down gingerly and clenched my hands together as she continued. ‘Now,’ she said gently, ‘your mother’s doing fine, so I don’t want you to worry, but she’s been admitted to hospital for a while.’
‘I know. That’s what I came to talk to you about.’ I briefly told her about the email, and then explained the dilemma with the animals and hesitantly put forward Emma’s suggestion of contacting my father.
The principal listened patiently as I spoke. Once I’d finished she nodded seriously, her fingers interlaced under her chin, and told me that she’d been pondering over the situation at home too. ‘I think your father is probably th
e best person to contact at this stage. He’s got a far better chance of finding someone to look after the property than I have. In any case, Social Services will look at housing you with him before anyone else in the case that you’re still not able to return home by the time the winter holidays come around.’
I frowned. ‘So are you able to call him today?’
Mrs Bentley turned to her computer with a small frown, and soon had his phone number written down on a post-it note. Then she looked up at me with a questioning look. ‘Would you like to speak to him first?’
I hesitated, looking at the post-it, and then abruptly nodded. I didn’t know what I thought speaking to him would accomplish, or whether I had an unconscious urge to lessen the shock for him of hearing from my school, but something was telling me that I should call him first. Mrs Bentley spun the phone around so it was facing me, and told me she’d be next door when I was ready for her to speak to my dad. Then she left me alone in her office.
I held the phone to my ear and dialled with shaky fingers. It was quite a while before someone picked up, and then a voice sounding deeper and gravellier than when I’d last heard it spoke, sending an unexpected quiver through my stomach and bringing an unexpected smile to my face. ‘Winters-Page residence.’
‘Dad?’ I cleared my throat, trying to repress the smile. I shouldn’t be so happy to hear his voice, I told myself. ‘It’s Juli.’
There was a moment of silence, then: ‘Juli? Oh my God. I didn’t expect to hear from you. How are you?’
His tone was friendly, less tense than I remembered, and it sent a pleasant warmth through my body. Whether it was because it brought back the few fond memories of my childhood that existed, or because it brought a sudden wave of hope that the issues with my mother and Social Services and the property could be resolved now, I wasn’t sure. I tried to deny that I was happy to hear from him, tried desperately for a brief moment to think of all that he’d done and how much pain he’d caused, but too many pictures of his smiling face as we rode together and milked the cows and raced down the paddocks on the quad bike and mower kept flashing through my mind. I tried to form words, knowing my silence was dragging on, but all I could manage was a very small “good” before tears started running down my cheeks. I raised a hand and scrubbed them away hurriedly, glad nobody was around to watch. Thankfully, my dad continued to talk, saving me the embarrassment of stammering out anything else.
‘Wow, it’s so good to finally hear your voice again.’ His tone was so full of sincerity and warmth it made an indisputable wave of happiness wash through me; the uncontrollable tears increased in number, much to my vexation. ‘I’ve tried to call a hundred times, but your mother always hangs up on me. Are you calling from school? How’s it going there?’
‘Fine.’
He paused. ‘Are those tears I hear?’
I sniffed, wiped my eyes again, and then suddenly everything spilled out in a blubbery rush. Dad let me speak without interrupting until finally I confessed to him my fears for the animals, and begged that he come home to look after the property.
‘I’m so sorry, love. I had no idea things had gotten so bad at home…although I can’t say I’m really surprised.’ He sighed suddenly. ‘Juli, I never got a chance to talk to you and explain after I moved down here with Mel. You know you did nothing wrong, right? I was having a lot of serious issues with your mother and I had no other choice at the time than to leave. I’m not saying I’m proud of – what I did…but I hope you can understand that I felt like I had no other option. One day when you’re older I’ll explain it all in more detail. For now all I need you to know is that I never ever stopped loving you and thinking about you.’
I bit down on my bottom lip as it quivered.
‘Are you still there, hon?’
‘I’m here.’ I sniffed again, frowning and tightening my grip around the phone.
‘I wish someone had called me sooner and let me know what was going on. I can’t imagine how lost you must be feeling right now.’ He paused again, and I could hear him clicking his tongue on the other end of the line. ‘Alright, how’s this?’ he said finally. ‘I can fly up for a few days, but I won’t be able to stay too long. Mel’s eight months pregnant.’
My mouth fell open. ‘What?’
‘You mum didn’t tell you? Shit. Sorry, honey. I sent her an email when we first found out and told her to tell you. I’m so sorry.’ He exhaled in frustration. ‘Anyway, I can’t leave Mel for too long at the moment, but if I come up for the weekend I can try and organise for someone to look after the farm for a little while. When does your school term end?’
‘This Friday.’
‘Have you got somewhere to stay for the holidays?’
‘My friend Lori invited me around to her place. The principal helped organise it in case Mum wasn’t out of hospital by then. They won’t let me return to the farm by myself.’
‘Fourteen’s not old enough to live alone, Juli.’
‘I’d be fully capable of running a property.’
‘I’m sure you would – I taught you myself. But you still need a parent around, hon.’
‘Social Services are coming to visit me this Thursday too.’ I hesitated. ‘I won’t have to go into foster care, will I?’
‘Heavens, no! No, no, of course not, sweetheart. If your mum really isn’t fit enough to care for you by the time the next holidays come around, you’ll come move down here with me.’
‘But what about school? What about the property?’
‘Well, let’s just see how things go for now, okay? Nothing’s been decided just yet. Look, I have to go soon I’m afraid. But I’ll chat to Mel and hopefully book a flight to Warrabeela today to sort something out up there, alright?’
‘Mrs Bentley wanted to talk to you too.’
‘I’ve got to rush off to work in ten. Can you tell her that I’ll call the school as soon as I’ve arranged something for the animals? Then I’ll chase up the hospital and this Social Services business. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll get everything organised. You don’t need to stress over this, okay? Just enjoy the last few days at school and have fun staying at your friend’s place over the holidays.’ He took a deep breath, his tone sounding more relaxed. ‘I can’t wait to hear all about what’s been going on in the last year, Juli. You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed seeing your pretty little face all streaked with mud and cow shit.’
I grinned.
‘I’ll call again soon, alright?’
‘Alright.’ We said our goodbyes and then I set the phone back in its cradle gently, a vague smile on my face and my chest feeling jittery with shock and relief.
I passed on the message to Mrs Bentley, who offered me a tissue from her desk as I sniffed the last of the tears away. She promised to organise everything with my dad, and then told me to get to class and enjoy my last few days. I met Lori and Emma on their way to their first classes, and gave them the thumbs-up. They both grinned and mirrored my gesture, and told me they were expecting a detailed rundown come lunchtime.
Emotional Sedation
Over the next few days I focused on just keeping myself busy with classes and friends. I received my grades with a deep sigh of relief: despite the D in religious studies, I’d passed all the rest of my classes on C+s, except for recreational studies, in which Mr Clifford had given me a B−. He told me I bombed out on my written exam, but he was so impressed with how well I’d performed in the practical exam, he’d been able to bump up my final grade. I had a sneaking suspicion that he knew I’d started the term not knowing how to ride a bike.
I’d lost count of how many days had passed since I’d last caught up with Alex. I’d seen her a few times out in the grounds, and we’d exchanged “hellos”, but we hadn’t been able to meet up again since the evening on the cricket pitch. There was a small pang of longing to see her resting in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t had much time to think about our relationship what with everybody harrying to have my circumstanc
es sorted by Friday, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving for autumn vacation without meeting up again, if only to say goodbye.
So I slipped inside the eleventh-grade dormitory during lunch time on Thursday, clenching a small slip of paper on which I’d written “Ledge, 11 pm? J”. I’d figured everybody would be asleep by that time, and as it was the second last day of term, and the staff seemed so concerned about me, a little bending the rules wouldn’t go amiss. Besides, it was getting a bit too chilly to sit in the wet grass of the cricket pitch now.
I walked around the room glancing at the books on the desks until I reached those with ALEX CALVIN scrawled across the front. I climbed up the ladder and dropped the note on her pillow, pulling the corner of her sheet up to my nose and breathing in with a smile.
That afternoon in modern history, Mrs Bailey allowed us to play board games for the double lesson while she marked the last few of the twelfth grade’s essays. Harvey soon sought me out from the back row, his tone sociable but his eyes guarded as he held a board game up to me questioningly. ‘Snakes and Ladders?’
‘Sure.’ I sat down opposite him and watched in silence as he set up the board and held the pieces out for me to choose a colour. We hadn’t spoken properly in weeks, not about anything of consequence; I knew he would be wondering by that stage whether I was ever going to bring up the matter of “us” again. So much had happened in the last few weeks, our date to the little French café didn’t seem like a concrete part of my reality anymore.