Rebecca laughed a little when she saw Peter on Hank. He sat with rounded shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with Hank’s quickened homecoming gait. Peter’s smile of greeting when he saw Rebecca and Charlie on the rise was more like a grimace.
‘Poor Peter!’ Bec said. ‘Looks like we better run him a hot bath.’
Rebecca jogged towards them, Charlie following a little way behind. The dogs scouted out ahead, their tails and their whole bodies wagging joyfully at the sight of Hank and Ink Jet. The horses tossed their heads in greeting to the dogs and whickered. Bec opened the gate and waited for them there.
‘Mum! Peter! Hi!’ She walked up to Ink Jet and put her arms about her wide neck and pressed her cheek to the mare’s warm coat. Then she ran a hand along Hank’s long smooth neck.
‘Hello, you two,’ she said gently to the horses, then she turned her face up to her mother and smiled. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
In the kitchen, with the stove roaring and the saucepans rattling, the house seemed almost normal. Rebecca took comfort in the scene. Her mother, putting out plates for the dinner. Peter, fresh from the bath, sitting by the stove in a whicker chair rubbing his bruised calf muscles. And Charlie chopping up apples for the fruit salad.
Peter looked up at Charlie. ‘Can you ride a horse? For your sake, I hope so … If you’re going to hang around these girls, you’ll need to learn. And believe me, it’s not as easy as it seems.’
Charlie laughed a little. ‘I can ride a bit.’
‘A bit!’ Rebecca interrupted. ‘Charlie worked on a station up north for a year when he first left school. He was thrown straight into the saddle, and from what I hear, he was a natural. He came home a cowboy … although he hides it well.’
‘It’s been a while since I was on a horse. The closest thing to horses I’ve been on lately are shopping trolleys … sometimes just as fickle and pigheaded.’
Rebecca smiled at him. ‘How about tomorrow? We could take a ride about the place and try to work out what’s left of the stock. Did you see any on your ride, Mum?’
‘No. Not a single beast, apart from the cows on the flats.’
Frankie had been quiet this evening. She was still reeling from the night she had spent in the hut, lying in the tiny camp bed where Tom had slept. Peter, being the gentleman, had lain on the sleeping mat on the uneven floor by the bed. She had listened to his breathing as he slept and had tried to pretend it was Tom lying there breathing next to her. In and out. The breath of Tom. She’d not slept a wink and had listened to every noise the hut gave to her. The creak of tin, the tap of the door blowing in the breeze, the dull murmurs of the stove as it burned slowly.
Coming back to Waters Meeting had been harder than Frankie had ever imagined. Now that she had been to the hut, she felt an overwhelming urge to leave. The house, the memories … it had all become too much to bear. She wanted to escape back to her comfortable life with Peter and leave the ghosts of her past life behind. She looked up guiltily at Rebecca.
‘Peter and I have decided to head off in the morning. You don’t mind, do you? We had planned to spend a few nights on the coast before we headed back to work.’
‘No! You go on. Charlie and I will be fine. You have a break.’ Rebecca tried to make her voice sound light, but a tinge of resentment crept in and gave her voice an edge, an edge her mother recognised.
‘Come on Bec,’ Frankie said. ‘There’s a little while before dinner. I’ll help you put fresh sheets on your bed.’ Reluctantly, Rebecca stood up and followed her mother out of the kitchen.
In the bedroom Rebecca was silent as Frankie bustled and chatted, smoothing the sheets down on the mattress, trying to cover the tension in her voice.
‘There,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips, ‘all nice for you and Charlie.’ She looked at her daughter. ‘How long is he staying?’
Rebecca sat heavily on the end of the bed and said flatly, ‘I don’t know.’ She sighed.
Her mother came to sit next to her.
‘Rebecca. Do you really think it’s a good idea, coming back here? I mean, aren’t you better off with Charlie on his place … at least it’s a farm that’s up and running … and without sounding like a cliched mother, he’s a nice boy. A really lovely man and I can see he adores you.’
Rebecca felt a redness flush into her cheeks. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little late to be giving mother–daughter lectures to me in my bedroom? And how can you say that? How can you say that I should give all this up just because it’ll be easier? You’ve never understood, have you? Never. You’ve never belonged here and you’ve always resented the fact that I do. You’ve always run away. You’ve never been there for us! Never.’
‘That’s not true and you know it! What about all the times I picked up the pieces for you when you were at school in the city … all the times I protected you from your father? Don’t you try and dump that on me, Rebecca Saunders. You’re old enough and brave enough to understand. Sometimes marriages just don’t work out – and that’s it. Your father and I weren’t meant to be together. I stuck at it for as long as I could for your sakes. I stayed for as long as I could. I gave you as much as I could at the time. I’m sorry, Rebecca, if that wasn’t good enough for you. But don’t you dump any more guilt on me. Do you think I don’t carry enough around with me now … especially after … Tom.’ Tears came to Frankie’s eyes and Rebecca looked at her mother as she began to sob.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly and placed a hand on Frankie’s arm. ‘It’s just, it was you who taught me to go out and get what I want. You always wanted your own practice, and now look at you – there’s room to expand and buy another. If you’d hung around here because everyone else said you should, you would never have reached your dream. You left … and did what your heart really wanted. And this is what my heart really wants. This place here. So don’t you tell me, Mum, to just give it all away.’
Rebecca had always blamed her mother’s departure squarely on her father. She had held Frankie up on a pedestal for so long that it was almost a relief to discover the truth about her. That she was human, with all the faults and fears of a human, the same as her father. When she thought of her father she felt a tension in her spine and a rush of fear for the future of Waters Meeting and for her future with Charlie. Her face crumpled with anxiety, and she tried to swallow the emotions back down.
‘Oh, Mum. It’s so hard.’
Her mother stroked her hair as she cried. ‘I know. But remember I love you, darling. And I’ll support you in any decision you make … and … I’m proud of you.’ Frankie put an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her daughter near. They sat there for a time.
‘Thanks Mum,’ Rebecca said at last, straightening herself up and blowing her nose on a tissue. She took a deep breath. ‘I reckon the spuds will be cooked now.’
In the darkness Rebecca and Charlie made love in her bedroom. There was a sadness to it all. A tenderness that touched Rebecca so much she cried silent tears as she felt Charlie’s smooth warm skin on hers. She kissed him on his face and eyelids and along the curve of his neck.
‘I love you,’ she said to the dark shadow of him.
‘I love you too,’ he said.
Standing naked in the soft morning light, Charlie opened the French doors of Rebecca’s bedroom and a cool breeze blew in, stirring the curtains. Rebecca rolled over and looked at the naked beauty of him. His skin golden. The gumleaves outside the verandah moved in the breeze, framing him. Magpies sung a wavering tune. For a moment Rebecca’s dream was alive in the room. He walked over to her and stood before her. He took her hand.
‘Morning, beautiful,’ he said with a smile and he kissed her gently on the head. She could hear the pipes clunking in the house and knew Frankie or Peter were in the shower. There was time to pull Charlie back into the warmth of the bed for a few more minutes before they went downstairs to breakfast. She took both his hands and drew him towards her. Then the phone rang downstairs.
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br /> ‘I bet that’s Mum,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ll get it.’
She rolled her eyes as he let go of her hands. He slipped on his jeans, hurried out of the room and dashed downstairs. Wrapped in a sheet, she sat at the top of the stairs and listened to his voice echo up the stairwell. It seemed to change when he spoke to his mother.
Later that morning, when Rebecca and Charlie entered the kitchen, Frankie had already made a pot of tea. The smell of warm toast filled the room. She had stoked up the fire so the room was pleasantly warm. She stood behind Peter, massaging his shoulders. The cat slept curled up on his lap.
‘Morning,’ Frankie smiled.
‘Hi,’ said Bec, reaching for a slice of toast.
‘We thought we’d get an early start,’ said Peter, ‘Well, your mother thought we’d get an early start. She kicked me out of bed and called me a lazy city slicker.’ He pulled a face as she squeezed too hard. ‘Ouch!’
Rebecca smiled at their antics, desperately wishing they would stay longer, but too proud to ask.
After breakfast Rebecca and Charlie helped carry their bags to the car.
‘Now, I’ve left all of the food for you in the fridge,’ Frankie said. ‘We’ll be back at the flat in a couple of days, so give me a ring if you need anything. I’ll come up one weekend soon and help you clean up the garden and the house, so you can have more time to concentrate on sorting out what you’re going to do with the farm.’
‘Thanks Mum. We’ll be fine,’ Rebecca said as she hugged her mother and kissed Peter on the cheek. Charlie was just kissing Frankie goodbye when they heard the phone ring from inside the house.
‘I’ll go,’ said Charlie as he jogged inside the house.
‘It’ll be his mum,’ Rebecca said dryly.
Frankie smiled, ‘Bloody mums, eh?’
‘Yeah,’ said Rebecca as she rolled her eyes in mock disgust. Another quick hug and Frankie and Peter were gone, the sound of their car engine buzzing through the bushland.
Rebecca held one hand in the air, waving to them as they passed along a clearing; her other hand stroked Dags’s ear as he sat beside her.
‘You stay near the house,’ she said to the dogs. When she disappeared inside they settled down on the lawn to doze in the sun. The ginger cat walked slowly up to Mossy and rubbed itself against her, flopping down next to her in the morning sunshine.
In the office Rebecca stood behind Charlie, looking at his broad shoulders as he spoke. She folded her arms across her chest. She knew what would come after he hung up the phone.
‘That was Mum again,’ he said when he turned to her.
Rebecca clenched her jaw.
‘Dad’s got a big contracting job – sowing for the Cotton Co. They need me back to run the farm. Glen’s back from boarding school, but he’s not up to it on his own yet.’ Charlie stooped a little to look directly into Rebecca’s eyes. ‘But it’s okay, they don’t really need me just yet. I can leave tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow! Great,’ said Rebecca flatly as she stomped down the hall away from him.
‘What? What can I do about it? I didn’t know he’d get the contract,’ Charlie said, following her with outstretched hands.
She stopped at the kitchen door and stared at him, the hurt and anger rising in her blood. ‘Nothing. No, that’s great. A whole three days here is great. For chrissakes Charlie, you haven’t had a break from that place since you got home from college – no weekends, nothing … They could at least give you –’
‘Oh come on, Bec, do you really think staying here for a week will be a break for me? We haven’t even seen the rest of the farm, but the yard and sheds are a mess … and as for this house, what can I do here for you in a week? It’ll take a lifetime to fix this mess.’
‘Oh! A bit of support would be nice!’
‘Support! Ever since we’ve been going out I’ve given you support – through your family dramas, tiptoeing around your moods, dealing with Tom’s death.’
The words opened up a silence between them as thoughts flew around Rebecca’s head. Suddenly she was ranting in a voice that was seemed to belong to someone else.
‘Oh! So that’s how it’s been! I’ve been a burden for you. Tom, the whole deal … You’ve just been playing the role of supportive boyfriend, and all along you’ve been resenting me! Can’t you see how hard it’s been for me? It’s not just this,’ she gestured wildly, indicating the house and farm, ‘but trying to fit in with your family! They never once acknowledged the work I did, let alone paid me. They never once let me really get involved. I’m not good enough for their firstborn. Nowhere near. They can’t wait to see the back of me!’
‘That’s not true!’
‘Bull, Charlie! They want you to have a wife who gardens and cooks and has a nice little off-farm income like teaching or nursing. Or volunteer stuff, like making sandwiches for tennis days! Well I’m not going to sit back and watch you do all the work. I can’t. I want to work alongside you. You’re just a slave to your father. And a mummy’s boy to boot. I’ve landed right back in the situation I was when I lived here!’
‘Oh that’s nice. Really nice.’ He clenched his jaw and a small muscle moved under his skin. Anger pumped blood into his cheeks. ‘What do you expect me to do? Drop everything I have at home and come here to help you drag this place out of debt?’
‘Drop everything at home? What do you mean by that? Charlie, you don’t have anything at home. Your dad controls it all and your mum controls you!’
‘Don’t you start giving me lectures about family – at least mine sticks together. With a family like yours, you’re not in a position to give advice! And as if I’m in a position to step into this mess!’ He turned his back and walked into the kitchen. Rebecca followed him to where he stood at the sink looking out the window at the pines.
‘Charlie. We’ve got to sort this out! You have to talk it through with me.’
‘Sort it out! Talk it through? How can we sort it out? We’ve been through it before. It never changes.’ He turned to her and held both her arms. There were tears in his eyes. It shocked her.
‘I’ve been wanting to ask you to marry me … I love you Bec …’
The words washed over her and for a moment filled her with joy. But Charlie continued speaking in low tones.
‘I know you hate it at home and you feel like you don’t fit in with my family …’ He began to sound urgent and spoke quickly, pleadingly. ‘I know you don’t like the flat cropping country but we can work it out. We’ll get some stock. You can run the sheep. We’ll bring your horses home with us. We don’t have to live in the cottage near Mum and Dad’s. We can build another house further away.’
Rebecca tried to picture this new world, this new future with Charlie.
‘No.’ she said too suddenly. She began to back away from him. ‘No. I’ve just got back here. I’m not leaving now. Not ever again.’
‘But there’s nothing here for you! Besides, what can you do with this place on your own?’
‘What do you mean, on my own? You don’t think a female’s capable of doing this! You’re starting to sound as sexist as our fathers.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Bec.’
‘Stupid! You’re just like all the other bastards! You think I don’t have a right to work the land, but because you’re a man, you do! You’re entitled to your bit of flat, chemical-and-salt-infected dirt, but I’m not entitled to my rundown, destocked bit of mountain country. Don’t you stand there and tell me there’s nothing here for me. I’ve got a chance to fight for this place … I’m entitled to it!’
‘Fine,’ said Charlie, as he spun around and walked out of the room. He ran up the stairs and began to throw his clothes into his bag.
‘Charlie!’ There was hysteria in her voice as she entered the room and saw what he was doing. He shook off her hands which clung to his shirt.
‘Leave me alone!’ Angrily he zipped up his bag and marched loudly down the stairs, along the hallway and out the door.
The dogs rose to their feet as the door slammed and looked anxiously from Bec to Charlie. They knew something was wrong so they hovered near Rebecca.
‘Where are you going?’ She jogged after him.
He yelled as he walked down the path, ‘It’s your choice, Bec! You’ve chosen this place and your father over me! Fine. I’ll leave you to it! Have fun.’
He opened the door of the ute and got in.
‘Charlie,’ said Bec, her voice rising in panic. ‘Charlie! Don’t leave yet.’
He looked at her with tears spilling from his green eyes. ‘Leave yet? You’ve got no intention of coming home with me. You’ve never thought it was enough just to be with me in life. You’re too bloody selfish. Like your father.’
He was trying with every muscle in his body to hold back the tears. He clenched his jaw and started the engine.
Rebecca grabbed at the handle to open the door but he roughly pulled it shut. Her face red, tears falling, she screamed at him, ‘No Charlie, don’t go! Don’t leave me!’ He took one last look at her and drove quickly away. She sunk onto the dirt and sobbed.
The rage came out in throaty screams as she tugged on her hair. Years of anger poured out. She sobbed until she was curled in a ball in the dust. Her dogs came to lick at her tear-stained face. Mossy sat a little way off and began to howl with Bec’s screams.
When she opened her eyes she saw a sideways view of the farm. The sound of a gentle breeze ran through the tin and timber of the sheds. At the corner of her view were the dark pines and the garage. She rose to her feet and ran to the machinery shed, rolling back the heavy wooden doors so light spilled into its cluttered, oil-stained interior. She gritted her teeth as she moved about the shed like a madwoman, throwing bits and pieces into the back of the farm ute. She threw in a tin of fuel, earmuffs, gloves, chains and hefted the largest chainsaw onto the flat tray. Tears stung her skin. The dogs, sensing her mood, slunk away and sat at the back door looking fearful.
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