The Healing Season

by Catherine Evans

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  She nodded her head against his chest.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find someone as amazing as you,’ he whispered against her head. He should have said so many other things but that’s what came out. She was amazing, and accepting, and kind. He was lucky to find someone like her so quickly after moving.

  ‘I didn’t expect you either.’

  He held her as tightly as she held him. Then he heard a noise. Getting louder. He cursed under his breath.

  People were coming.

  Thank goodness they hadn’t arrived any earlier. He wasn’t sure he could have told his story if they’d been disturbed. He couldn’t have made those admissions in sunlight.

  ‘Is it okay to turn on the torch?’ Alicia spoke gently as they untangled themselves from each other.

  ‘Yep.’

  She pointed the torch in the direction furthest away and turned it on. She brushed her face with her palm but Lachlan was sure most of her tears had landed on his shirt.

  He slid his hand across her shoulder and turned her to the exit. As they left the caves and walked into the blinding sunlight, he clasped her hand in his. Walking hand-in-hand felt natural, no hardship at all. He didn’t feel the slightest discomfort, and that should have concerned him.

  They were heading to the carpark but on the little bridge she tugged him to a stop. He wasn’t sure why they’d stopped. Did she want to talk more about his life? Did she want to talk about what might be happening between them?

  If she asked him something, he’d have to answer. There was something special growing between them. Friendship had blossomed into more. He’d never had more. He wasn’t sure what to do.

  She wasn’t looking at him, she was looking out at the dry creek bed in the open woodland forest. The creek bed was red-grey clay, cut into the land in a thin ribbon. Trees grew thickly along the banks, grasses too. It was very different to the sparse, wide, sandy, orange creek beds of the Territory.

  ‘What you said inside, changes nothing,’ Alicia said.

  He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d wanted her to say but he knew that wasn’t it. ‘It doesn’t?’ It had changed everything for him. He’d told her his deepest secret and fear, surely that changed things?

  She gave him a huge grin that he felt was completely wrong for the situation. Then she said, ‘I still think you’re nice.’ Her chuckle could have been a little forced but he wasn’t sure.

  Hurt, he could only nod and murmur a thanks.

  ‘Whatever you’ve told me, I won’t say anything to anyone else. I’ll keep your secret.’

  Her words were like knives. He’d expected her to reject him or claim that he had lied to her about who he was. He expected her to eject him from his job, the town. She hadn’t.

  He should be relieved for that. Instead, he was wounded by the way she’d dismissed his secret. As if what he’d shared had no bearing on her, or her life. He lay his head on his arms, leaning on the railing of the bridge. ‘I know that. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t trust you.’

  She made a noise as if she was humming but he didn’t look up. Then she said, ‘Are you still worried about your mother finding you?’

  He exhaled, too loudly but he didn’t care what she made of it. ‘No. There’s no way she can find me.’

  He adjusted his stance, gripped the railing, and looked at her. Her eyebrows were pulled down as if she was puzzling about something.

  He let out another sigh but it didn’t help. Maybe Alicia was worried that he’d leave, that he’d told her about his mother because he was leaving. He should make sure she knew that he was staying. ‘Dulili’s been good for me. It’s like a dream—’

  Before he could finish, she said, ‘Oh. And you’re scared the dream will vanish?’ She placed her hand over his clenched fist.

  He was doing a lousy job at explaining himself. He should just call a halt to the conversation before he got frustrated or completely tongue-tied. ‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘Yeah. Something like that.’

  He eased away from the railing. ‘We’ll be late back,’ he said as he turned towards the car park. This would make a clean break in the conversation. He’d get her to talk about farming on the way home and he’d think about what he should have said later.

  He’d imagined they’d grown closer. That they understood one another. That they had the makings of more than friendship. He had it all wrong.

  ‘Lucky we don’t have to report in to anyone.’ Her voice was light and breezy as if today had been a pleasant picnic.

  For him, it’d been nothing short of a disaster.

  Chapter 11

  Alicia thought everything was fine until Lachlan begged off Tuesday night with an excuse about meeting some of the guys at the pub, and then Thursday night saying he had to pick up stuff in Orange. Separately these excuses wouldn’t have bothered her but together, and after Sunday’s cave experience, alarm bells rang.

  On Fridays the shop was never quiet with people coming to town for weekend supplies or for a night out, or visitors cruising through but she had to find time to speak to Lachlan. Although work wasn’t the place to have a discussion like that. Damn. Work was so not the place. She bit her tongue, all day.

  All week she’d pretended that things were normal but there’d been a reserve she couldn’t break. At first she thought Lachlan was just embarrassed about his life, so she let it slide. Maybe that was still the problem but some niggle said there was more. She’d missed something.

  The customers wouldn’t have noticed a difference. Lachlan still called from the back door things like, ‘Alicia, do we have any ag pipe?’ And she’d answer, ‘It came in on Tuesday, on the pallet for the Michaels’.’ If Lachlan wasn’t busy and she was discussing pasture options with a farmer, he would hover, soaking up every skerrick of information he could. On the surface it all looked the same but there was a rift.

  When they were locking up on Friday night, she faced him. ‘Have you got time for a chat?’

  ‘Not tonight. You could pop by my place tomorrow if you want.’ He gave her a sharp look and was out the door before she could suck in a painful breath.

  She could pop by his place? Seriously? What kind of an answer was that?

  She sucked at confrontation. She had no idea how to find out what was wrong. It was as if she’d hurt him but she’d no idea how. She’d listened, comforted, and they carried on as usual. She didn’t know what he wanted or even if he wanted anything.

  After locking up, she stomped upstairs but wasn’t in the mood for her own company, so she showered, threw on clean jeans and a top and headed across the road to the pub. A meal, a drink and a chat, with anyone, was better than stewing alone.

  Alan, Carol, and the kids walked in just behind her.

  ‘Come and join us, Alicia,’ Carol invited.

  ‘I don’t want to be interrupting.’ How awful that she’d run into them by chance when she should have rung up and invited them out with her, or popped around, or something. Ages ago she’d promised herself that she’d get back in touch but hadn’t. She’d not been a good friend to Carol for months now.

  ‘You’re not.’ Carol’s answer was a little sharp but she softened it with a part-smile. ‘You’d be a godsend. I’m all out of patience with men.’

  Alan walked off to talk to other farmers. The boys raced outside to play with the kids in the playground area of the beer garden. Carol followed the kids and Alicia volunteered to get drinks, even though she owed Carol more than a drink. They sat on the verandah outside and supervised the bunch of noisy youngsters. That suited her fine. Noise would get her out of her head.

  ‘Tough week?’ she asked when they were sitting with a beer each.

  ‘You’ve no idea,’ Carol answered before taking a good sip, then sighing with pleasure. ‘Tough life, really. You’re lucky you didn’t marry young.’

  A stab hit her broken heart momentarily winding her. Knowing Carol wasn’t being cruel d
idn’t stop the ache. She fought for composure. These off-hand comments had to stop hurting soon. Surely?

  Lifting an eyebrow, she silently questioned. Carol and Alan had always seemed completely devoted to each other. She always thought they were ‘it’. But Carol sounded burned out.

  ‘The kids wearing you out?’ Her boys were seven, five and three. Polite kids but farm boys; full of energy and always up to mischief.

  ‘All four of them.’ She gave a huge sigh as if she was ready to collapse.

  ‘Oh, again? Congratulations!’ Alicia tipped her bottle to her.

  Carol laughed. Loudly and unreservedly. ‘God, Alicia. Not that. I was counting Alan.’

  The heat raced up Alicia’s face as she covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’ How could she be so stupid, imagining Carol pregnant when she wasn’t? Alicia was out of touch. So far out of touch.

  ‘Don’t be. That’s the best laugh I’ve had all week.’ Carol grinned, clearly not worried by the fax paus. That was a relief. She didn’t want another person to have to tip-toe around.

  ‘It must be hard.’ Alicia didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t easy imagining someone else’s life.

  ‘Some days I’d never trade it, not for anything in the world. Other days, man, I’d walk away from them all. Today was one of those days.’ She exhaled. ‘We missed the school bus. I don’t know how I managed that. So I had to drive the kids to town, mostly in the dust from the bus. Then Matt didn’t want to come home. He wanted to be at school because at three, you’re ready for school, right? So he howled the whole way home. Whinged all day. Nothing I did was right. Alan came in for lunch and instead of taking Matt out or doing something useful, he just started whinging about Matt’s noise. Like I was supposed to do something.’ She took another pull on her beer. ‘God, you don’t need to hear all this.’

  Alicia gave a little laugh. ‘It’s good to hear it. Makes the shop look like a good place to be.’

  Carol glanced at her. ‘Isn’t the shop always a good place to be? Alan said you love it and you’re good at it.’

  She nodded. ‘Thanks. I do love it.’

  ‘So … spill …’

  She shrugged. ‘Nothing to spill.’

  Carol’s face looked eager but an expression flitted across it quickly that Alicia couldn’t read, and then her face became sad. Not an expression of worry or hassle like before but a sad one which tugged down her lips, made her eyes downcast and thinned her lips. ‘Sorry, Alicia. I shouldn’t be whining about my life. I’m so insensitive.’

  Alicia leaned over and brushed her fingers across her friend’s forearm. ‘Carol, don’t apologise. It’s okay.’ She knew Carol was thinking of Paul, of how upset Alicia had been, and how her dreams had been lost. ‘I’m not so caught in my loss any more. I can hear about you without making it about me. Besides I’ve been a useless friend to you for months, and I need to apologise for that.’

  Carol clutched her hand. ‘No apologies. I’m just glad you’re improving, Liss. He was a horrible, horrible loss.’

  Carol hadn’t said his name but Alicia was going to. ‘At least I knew Paul. I got to experience love, and life, and him.’ Carol nodded as Alicia spoke and their gazes met. Carol seemed momentarily shocked but then she smiled.

  ‘You are improving.’ Said like she hadn’t believed. ‘Alan said you were. I wasn’t sure, I didn’t know. It was such a loss. But you’ve done so well and Paul’s gallery looks amazing. Every time Alan comes to town he says the photos have changed. You must be moving some stock.’

  ‘They’ve been selling extremely well. Mostly to locals. But the ones in the café sell to tourists on weekends. If they keep selling I might see about renting a shop for a real art gallery.’

  Carol grinned. ‘That’s great. I wish Paul were here to see what you’ve done.’ She bit her lip and gave a look that was so full of sadness, Alicia’s heart lurched. But there was no time for sorrow as Matt, Carol’s youngest, came screaming over, burying his head into his mum’s lap, sobbing a garbled tale of the boys picking on him.

  Carol yelled, ‘Dunstan and Timothy, look out for your brother.’ She ran her fingers through Matt’s crazy curls and soothed him with soft words. Before long, he was racing back to play.

  ‘It’s hard for a three-year-old to keep up but he gives it his best shot. He sleeps like a log every night.’

  ‘No wonder.’

  ‘Speaking of sleeping, I better order dinner and get these kids fed. Will you eat with us?’ Alicia hesitated and Carol pounced on the moment. ‘I need female company and you’re not in the way or interrupting or whatever rubbish you’re going to say.’

  Alicia laughed and nodded. A rambunctious family dinner was just what she needed. ‘I’ll get us another drink while you order.’

  ‘Would you mind staying and keeping an eye on the kids while I order? I’ll bring you back a beer when I return.’ Alicia nodded and dug money out of her pocket but her friend pushed it away. ‘My treat.’

  Stretching her legs out, she sipped the last of her beer and watched the kids racing up the steps and then down the slide on the slippery dip. They didn’t seem to slow down at all. They’d grown up so much in the last ten months and she’d missed that, and missed them. If she’d spent more time with the kids, she would never have got lost in sadness and loneliness, it just would not have been possible with three active boys around.

  While thinking of regrets, she watched Dunstan and Tim go down the slide head-first on their bellies. She was smiling at their antics when she registered Matt doing the same—rocketing down the slide face first. He wasn’t going to land well. Out of her seat and racing, she wasn’t quick enough.

  He landed on his face, nose-planting into the middle of the dirt in the dip at the bottom of the slide. His scream was blood curdling but she swept him into her arms before his scream finished. Blood streamed from his nose but nowhere near as fast as the tears. She grabbed a hanky from her pocket and wadded it beneath his poor nose.

  She sat on the ground with Matt in her arms, nose pinched between her fingers, and the other two crowded around her, concerned for their brother. A few other kids came around her to be part of the spectacle. The squash of children caused a tension in Alicia’s head, right between her temples.

  For a moment she was taken far from Dulili, to another time, another place. Somewhere she’d never been but the memory was strong. It was a photo of Paul’s, one of his last. Kids, poor kids, bloody and filthy.

  Before she could get lost in the memory, Dunstan leaned hard against her. ‘Mum’s going to kill us,’ he murmured against her shoulder as he burrowed close, probably hoping for protection.

  ‘She won’t.’ Alicia reassured him using a soft voice. These kids were so well loved, and they didn’t realise it.

  ‘I’m supposed to be more responsible,’ he said, stumbling over the last word. ‘I’m the oldest.’

  ‘And I’m supposed to think.’ Tim muttered, as if thinking was the most difficult thing in the world. She had to turn her chuckle to a poor excuse for a cough but the boys didn’t notice.

  She looked down at Matt and the tears had stopped, along with the bleeding. She took the pressure off his nose but didn’t move the hanky from beneath just in case it bled again.

  ‘Look at that. Matt’s almost good as new.’ Matt gave her a wishy washy smile. She couldn’t decide if he was milking more sympathy, glad he was almost as good as new, or just being charming.

  ‘Will you tell Mum?’ Dunstan asked.

  ‘I think she’ll know, Dunst. The whole of Dulili would have heard Matt cry.’ She offered him a smile but he kept his gaze on his feet. ‘It’ll be okay. You’ll see.’

  The stray kids wandered off when Carol arrived on the scene. ‘Let me guess,’ she said and all three boys glanced away.

  ‘Don’t guess,’ Alicia said. ‘Just kiss this one better and he’ll be brand new.’

  Matt pushed her hanky hand away and curled up against his moth
er’s chest. She kissed his temple. ‘You okay, Mattie?’ He nodded. She looked up at the other boys. There was a duet of, ‘sorry, Mum,’ which made Alicia smile but she smothered it before the boys or Carol noticed. It wasn’t the done thing to grin when children were being chastised. She’d learned that from Carol years ago.

  ‘Well, it’s time for dinner,’ Carol said. ‘Let’s get inside for nuggets and chips.’

  Dunstan and Tim stared at their Mum than glanced at Alicia. Their eyes were large orbs but not as big as their gaping mouths. Carol carried Matt inside, and Dunstan and Timothy each grabbed one of Alicia’s hands.

  ‘Are you having dinner with us?’ Dunstan asked.

  ‘Is that okay?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He looked at his brother and they did a little jig. ‘Liss is having dinner with us. Liss is having dinner with us.’

  She couldn’t help laughing. She’d become their hero-of-the-moment for taking the attention of their Mum and for easing the nose bleed drama. Kids were funny.

  After much hand washing, and a little face and nose washing, dinner was a riot of noise. The kids constantly talked. When one stopped to shovel food in his mouth, another started. Alicia couldn’t see them tag in and out but that was exactly what they were doing.

  ‘How do you manage this every day?’ She mouthed the words to Carol, knowing that she’d never get about the boys’ decibel range.

  Carol rolled her eyes heavenward and grinned.

  A little ache started in Alicia’s chest. This might grind Carol down at times—this noise, the constant demands for attention, the lack of silence and self—but she loved it. She thrived on family.

  Alicia had always wanted a family. A bunch of kids filling a farm with laughter and fun. Like Carol and Alan’s. She and Paul had talked about it, argued over how many kids and what their names would be. She’d imagined her life so many times it was still almost impossible to grasp it would never be. Times like this were hard, which was why she’d avoided them. She swallowed even though her throat was choked. She’d missed so much by avoiding these kids, and Carol. She had to let go of the hurt and let in the laughter.