Nat raises an eyebrow.
“I rang up Dell for help and I hardly got anything except that she thinks you guys are all sexy,” I raise my hands at his spreading grin. “Angus the most, boofhead. Actually, she didn’t mention you at all.”
Nathan scoffs in a very disbelieving manner and flexes his bicep. “Please, you are shithouse at lying.” He grabs the shampoo I’m holding and throws it back in the cupboard. “I bought his good one, you’ll get itchy with that one.” He yawns and stretches his huge arms.
“Thanks,” I smile appreciating him packing Frank’s favourite.
“What exactly did she say because you know I can use this for great gains when I get home… or,” he stops dead, his face resembling the Cheshire Cat as his smile spreads, “this way he might not want me home at all! Oh man, tell me!”
I like that thought and I know exactly what he’s going to do. Nat would never do anything with Dell though, ever, but he will certainly play on it in front of Angus. I can imagine him posing in like seriously every situation he could.
“She said you are hunky when you’re in savage mode,” he does it, he’s fricken frightening, “and when you look playful or something.” He acts playful, wish I found it that easy. “She says that you and me are the same and if I’m going to win this bet that I should do one of your two major sexy ways? What are they and how do you do it?” I ask frankly, remembering how much I hate losing challenges. They did not stipulate a time so a second is feasible.
“You’re a girl and I’m a boy,” he bestows that information upon me like I’m three. “We might be the same in somethings but there are definitely parts of us that aren’t. I wish I never even uttered that bloody bet. I know how you latch on like a leech to them.”
“Me too. And, duh, I know we are different genders, but what makes you sexy? If it was easy as your pizzle you’d have had it out every chance,” I stare at him with my eyebrow raised.
Nat laughs. “It’s not my pizzle. And if it were, I wouldn’t have it out every chance, mystery sells, sweet pea. What was the other thing she said?”
I know what he’s asking but I will do a Dell and change the direction a bit. “She said that I should study the Secret ladies or whatever that Kelsey is going to be as I can use the stuff I learn to get more people to watch today, so it will end up creating more interest and then more mula.” I pause as I let that sink in. “It’s hard because Dell knows me and she’s telling me to do it but the way that Kelsey raved on about it… it’s not me,” I toss two sets of gloves into the tractor. “I don’t think I’ll succeed in it either.”
Nathan considers me for a second, we both don’t feel comfortable with the prospect of failing; especially when it comes to helping farmers. He slides out his phone and sits on a hay bale, throwing his chin over. “Let’s see before we diss and decide we won’t succeed.”
Turns out Nathan agreed with me, although we both discovered a new-found respect for those women. Their work ethic in getting their bodies to where they wanted was commendable. We decided that shiny locks (eekkk), big smiles (not me if I don’t mean it) and winks (I could possibly pull off depending on what I was thinking) were obviously a big part in being one of these successful model citizens. Every time they walked down the end of the stage they’d wink, toss their hair or tilt their head… or blow a kiss (I didn’t even put that one on my consideration list). Apparently, it was all, guess what? Flirting. Flirting with the audience, flirting with the camera… the tiny pieces of clothing, the list probably goes on and on and on. And Dell was right; playful, cheeky and mischievous looks were included in droves, but unfortunately, their naughty expressions appeared to infer a whole different thing than mine. I roll my eyes at the thought of trying their type and actually meaning it, maybe if my octopus took over…
Another thing they should be applauded for is strutting in those contraptions they call shoes. I had tried the strange, sashaying walk for fun at home before we left for the city, in my boots, and Harry had jumped from the tractor, eyes wild, thinking I’d sat on a star post or something. Nathan practically died of laughter. Then he and Chops decided to have a go, Harry, Pop and Flea joining in; we had a full fashion parade for a good ten minutes and I almost had to go back to the hospital from laughing my ribs out of my body. Harry even got the mop out I’d taken for Noah to escape jail in and gave the flick a go!
“That’s scary,” Nathan chuckles as I try the tilt and wink thing one more time, just in case I’d suddenly mastered it subconsciously. Stranger things have happened. It’s so boring and annoying driving in the city. I hoped my body could have been secretly practising just to stop concentrating on the constant stopping and starting. Frankie must be hating it. I only growl at Nat in response.
“Least your hair is shiny, and you smell like a girl for once. Hopefully, those two things will give you the extra edge.” Nat pats my leg with a sardonic smile.
We mixed horse conditioner, baby oil and water together and sprayed liberally. I smell like fluffy, vanilla marshmallows. I don’t like it but turns out Frank does because he couldn’t stop licking me. My shiny locks have more than a few slobbered strands.
“Speaking of me being scary,” I turn to him, my smooth hair sliding against the leather seat covers and merely cross my arms. Nathan doesn’t bother finding even the most remotely sheepish expression. He returns my stare.
“It was better if I said it,” he shrugs, as we stop yet again. “We are not going through bullcrap again.”
“I agree,” Pop issues from the front. “It needed to be said, not that it’s going to happen but… it needed to be said.”
“It’s not going to happen,” I repeat firmly, that is if I get a handle on my slippery octopus. I did worm myself for good measure though. Harry handed us all out little chocolate squares. Worm one, worm ‘em all goes for people too, I guess. Pity horse wormer makers couldn’t make little, fake carrots for horses, it would be very helpful, especially when it’s your name that appears on the chore list next to ‘worm horses’. I could imagine frolicking through the paddock dolling out sneaky carrots; not trying to hide the syringe from ‘knowing’ eagle-eyed horses. When you’re my size reaching a tall horse’s head as it shoves it skywards is near impossible.
“So, are you sure it’s nothing?” I ask Pop leaning forward over the seat to watch his reaction carefully. I leave the previous topic alone because I don’t want Nat’s memory to access anything that would ruin his day.
“Sure as sure,” Pop winks; with ease too, I note. “Dr Rick just wants me to do a test or two he can’t do at home.” Pop had told us that his shortness of breath hadn’t worried Dr Rick too much, but he did want to double check it while Pop was here in the city.
Nathan and I share looks. Pop never says ‘just’, in fact he always berates us if we say it. I stare out the window as I vow that if anything is wrong, that Pop is not going into any Hostel; where people are left to die and pretty much anything out of the blue is exciting. In fact, the amount of anticipation bouncing around the Hostel inmates that are attending the concert tonight is almost palpable. The funniest thing is the nurses seem really stressed about controlling them on their visit, I can’t wait to clock their faces during the very last song.
“I’m glad your Nan isn’t here to listen to you dismissing that Secret Ladies stuff,” Pop says out of the blue. “She’d have walloped you both across the heads.”
Both our heads turn from peering out the window at the unfamiliar but repetitive landscape to the front. Harry’s eyes glance at us in the rear vision mirror. “You guys resemble Alby and Mangles when they aren’t sure what they’ve done wrong, but they know it’s something.” He says. It sums me up. I’m lost. I don’t know why the hell nan would like that stuff. Maybe the crocodile print bra!
It’s like Pop has decided to take a bit of credence in the vet’s waiting antics. “I’m sure Nan wouldn’t want Av to objectify herself,” Nathan replies finally.
“You know your N
an, she never saw anything the way you thought she should,” he turns in his seat with a playful smirk, although something is hidden behind it. Pop is good at those looks!
“I don’t get it,” I frown at both him and the stopping yet again. Some car beeps from behind us. Frank’s movement rocks the whole truck, I bet he wishes he could use his horn! “What are you saying? I should try to be all like… smiley and flicky and well, everything else?” I falter on the last part. There’s way too much to process. There’s so much that is not me. I do not like to feel not like me.
“You know we don’t value that,” Nat shifts his whole body forward in his seat to capture Pop’s attention more, half hiding me. “You were part of the whole ‘function over aesthetics’ repetition committee that instilled it in us every bloody day! Hell, until Av got older, I was sure I would be marrying some sheila with a beard, Adam’s apple and hairy biceps as big as mine!”
I burst out laughing at the visual, that and the man that mum said would be interested in me. Great family pics in the future. “I’m not at the beard growing age yet,” I nudge him, running a hand over my smooth cheeks thoughtfully. “It’s coming, though. I can feel it. I’ll have to add razors to the book, food for Dell and man nappy list.”
“Get some Nads,” he drawls, his lips curling as he surveys my cheeks. “It will give you a smoother result for longer.”
“You watch too many weird ads,” I declare.
“Hey, and lucky for that too. Remember the spiel I gave to Dad after we waxed Angus’s butt that time.”
Pop snickers. That was not funny, I used my maths to work out how much sedation paste to give Angus and for once was way too light-handed. He woke up... in excruciating pain from a not so correct application of wax, another miscalculation on my part. I grimace and remind myself to give Frank another hug for defending me from certain death. I literally cannot run fast when I’m laughing and Angus, kind of extra streamlined, could.
I nod in agreement about the whole thing Nat just said to Pop. If it were the other way, Mum would have been a veritable goddess on the farm. “That whole incident just highlights the fact I’m not cut out for that type of stuff,” I nod yet again, sure of my winning point. If I had a photos of Angus’ red raw and a little bit bleeding butt I’m positive Pop would have backed down.
But no.
“You remember how Nan always used to grin at you, pinch your cheeks and say what a great accomplice you’d have made?” he directs at me but Nat and I both nod. She used to do it all the time with this far off look in her pale blue eyes and a grin that when I was little would cause goosebumps to peal over my arms. It was not until later I realised why; there was a proclamation of innate mischief in that smile. And, I loved it, it resonated with something inside of me. I used to dream of all the things Nan and I would have gotten up to if we grew up at the same age.
“It was never what you thought,” he begins, and both Nathan and I scrunch our faces up and wait. Yet again. Bloody vet. I resist the urge to pick the steak undies out of my butt. I hate undies. They hurt.
Harry lets out a low chuckle as he accelerates, his eyes flicking back to the road. The horn blares again; apparently, Haz wasn’t quick enough.
“What did she mean then?” Nathan asks. I’m practising waiting the wait out. Two can play this game.
“You both know the story of how your Nan and I met,” we dip our chins again. Nan and Pop met in the war. Nan was a nurse and Pop; well Pop and Flea were the two wild boys that changed their name and enlisted. “Your father didn’t want us to tell you the rest of the story, he didn’t want you two to ‘get ideas’ or ‘confused’.” He uses his fingers to make quotation marks.
“And what? You really haven’t?” I asked, aghast that Pop kept something from us. Nathan hisses a breath through his nose. We both cross our arms at precisely the same time and sink back to listen.
“Your Nan didn’t like the old silent gag order and was going to when you turned sixteen but…” he trails off. But Nan died. My heart burns and I reach up to massage it, appreciating the fact it is an action I haven’t done for a while.
“So why didn’t you tell us then?” Nathan manoeuvres his seatbelt so he can throw the bird out the window to a car behind that is still beeping at us. Salty air mixed with carbon dioxide fumes filters in as I hope the beefcake muscle show will stop the annoying noise blurts as I’m getting closer and closer to feeling my temper move my hands to do something that I’m not sure is a good idea in traffic. Frank is my baby and he is not enjoying this. I feel guilty as it is.
Pop shakes his head, “I don’t know, maybe thinking about it made her absence all the more real. And… I wasn’t sure what it would mean to you at home, your dad may have been right in some ways. It’s not a lovey-dovey Grandma baking cookies story.”
I bite my lip, I miss Nan so much, I can only imagine what Pop must feel without his soulmate. Maybe getting him together with Irene would be okay.
“It’s all good,” I smile encouragingly like I’m very adultish and trustworthy and am absolutely overqualified to handle all this type of information. “Tell us now.”
Time goes by again, we stop three times more. We are blasted another six times from that horn. The itch from the outfit under my clothes worsens as I feel sweat slide down my back. Temper swirls in my hands,
“Your Nan was the fiercest soldier on our team,” he watches our reaction.
“What?” I say as Nat exclaims, “She was a nurse!”
“Whoa, was she a killer nurse?” I gasp wide-eyed. That’s kind of creepy but so Nan.
“Did she use poison or a pillow?” Nat throws in.
“Or that mercury thing in their ears?” I breathe out.
“Hold on,” Nat scrunches up his face. “She killed them, not us, right?”
“Stop,” Pop puts a hand up in partnership with his commanding voice.
We hush instantly. My mind rapidly fills with scenarios though, there’s no halting that wave.
“She was a nurse,” Pop closes his eyes as if picturing her. I do too, but instead of seeing her as she was when I was growing up, I picture her young like in the black and white photo in our hallway; a young lady in her uniform. Even in the black and white her eyes held some mischief and hinted at a secret knowledge being held behind them. “To begin with she was… before she stole the identity of a dead soldier.” Our eyes widen as Nat and I chance a glance at each other. “He had been missing for a while. They must have been similar looking, dark hair, blue eyes, she grabbed his papers and transferred herself to our battalion; the one that had only just arrived at the area and was preparing to set off again.”
“God,” I groan dramatically, what’s with our family and stealing identities? “We never had a chance,” I grin at Nat. “No one can ever blame us for what we are, that must be the information Dad was scared about us getting a grasp of.” He matches my grin, probably thinking as well of how this was awesome info for our upcoming body heist.
“It’s not,” Pop utters. The identity fraud ideas tumble from my mind. “We didn’t catch on until later, but by then she had proven herself over and over.” He pauses, his grey eyes glistening. “And by proven, I mean, had more confirmed… confirmed kills than any of us.”
I can imagine that, there was always something wild about Nan, I wonder if my monster was a direct spawn of hers. Maybe it’s what resonated within me.
“I can actually see that,” Nat says in awe and I blink at him.
“Not the way it happened you can’t,” Pop says mysteriously brining me back to the conversation.
“Oh, did she use crocodiles?” I lean forward hands on either seat.
“What? No. She might have though if they were available,” Pop chuckles. “How she racked up her numbers,” Pop closes his eyes again and stops, starts again afresh. “She was beautiful, just like you Av, beardless without an Adam’s apple and she wasn’t afraid to use it to her, or our, advantage.”
“So what? Did
she smile, wink, tilt then shoot?” Nat asks, humour saturating his voice. He mouths to me, ‘long as you can end on a high note.’
“Basically,” Pop replies evenly.
“She used a knife?” my mouth feels strangely dry, and my leg warms underneath the sheath strapped to my leg. I feel that twang resonate through me like a note I have known all my life. I remember Flea saying something about Nan cutting.
“It was quieter, deadlier and she used it like she was born with it, like that terminator movie that Dell made us watch that time. Your nan would take on a persona and like your scenarios, totally fall into every aspect of it. She knew her audience, too. If it was a lost farm girl that would get her close to a small band of soldiers, then that is what she’d be. If it was expected that some entertainment was on its way, then that is what she’d be.”
“Entertainment?” I repeat dumbly.
Nat elbows me. Oh. Ew.
“Thing is, she knew what people expected from certain folks, what they felt safe around, who they believed they had power over, who they thought was harmless, who they thought they could hurt. She played every element of it she possibly could.”
I digest this. The car behind us beeps again. Nat really leans out, so much so that I grab his jeans to stop him falling out. We approach an intersection with the words Sydney Harbour Bridge on a huge sign above us. If Dad were here right now, those words would send him into a rant about ridiculous spending by the government on fireworks and their hide by practically rubbing it in our faces. What could be done in the country with that money is almost endless. I push it out of my mind.
“So, you’re saying that I should do all that Secret stuff because that’s what people like and believe is worth spending money and time on?” I ask hesitantly, voicing my confused thoughts. I mean, it’s not every day that you get told your nan was pretty much a chameleon hitman. I keep picturing her dressed up as a ‘farm girl’ carrying apple bombs in a dress or something.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 41