'Obviously,' Gemma said dryly.
'So how are you?' asked Jess as they headed back to the house, their arms slung around each other.
'I've had my moments. But mostly I'm okay.'
'I knew you would be. Any word from the out-laws?'
'Hey, let's just have fun tonight,' said Gemma. 'We'll talk that stuff tomorrow.'
Walking inside with her friend's arm warm around her shoulders, Gemma felt a peace she hadn't known since Adam died. It was nice to feel almost whole again, to know that whatever happened, she'd be all right.
The smell of burning met them at the door. 'Oh bugger! That's what's left of the gravy,' said Gemma, running to the stove. Jess – a fabulous cook – laughed so hard she almost had tears running down her cheeks.
'You haven't improved on the cooking front then! So what is for tea? I'm starving,' asked Jess, opening the fridge and pulling out the Coke to mix with her scotch. Popping the top, she leaned against the kitchen counter. 'Is it eggs on toast? Grilled cheese sandwiches?'
'Get away! I'm not that bad a cook! I just don't do a lot of it now that there's only myself to cook for. Anyway, we're having roast lamb – without the gravy!'
'Roast lamb? Yum, I haven't had that for ages!' She nudged Gemma out of the way. 'Allow the master!' She started trying to salvage what she could of the gravy. 'I think we might have to make some more. Where's the flour?'
'In the pantry.' Gemma looked at Jess. Her red hair hung below her shoulders and her freckles and green eyes stood out against her pale skin. 'You've been indoors too much,' she observed.
'Ah yes,' sighed Jess dramatically. 'Well I do have to spend some time in the office and that tends to play havoc with the complexion. However –' she held up her finger to make a point, 'that's why they invented makeup!'
'You're awfully cheery,' said Gemma. 'Is there anything wrong?'
'Like you said, we'll talk that stuff tomorrow,' replied Jess with her head deep in the pantry. 'I cannot find any flour in here of any sort. I can't believe you have a pantry without – oh, here's some. Gemma Sinclair, it's about a year out of date! You'll poison yourself one day. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.'
'Flour is not exactly big on my agenda at the moment,' Gemma said defensively.
'C'mon, let's eat and I'll fill you in on all the gossip from town. You would not believe who I saw yesterday at the hairdresser.'
'Tell me,' said Gemma.
'Gabby Clarke. Do you remember her from school? Blonde, with legs up to her ears and really skinny. I couldn't believe it was her – she's got three kids hanging off her.'
'You're joking!' interjected Gemma. 'I didn't even know she'd got married.'
'Yeah, she married some guy from the city about five years ago.' She threw her hand up against her forehead for dramatic effect. 'Oh, and guess who I had a wine with last week at the pub?'
'I couldn't guess. Do you actually do any work?'
'Of course, but only if it doesn't interfere with my social calendar,' Jess stated solemnly, and then burst out laughing. 'But you'll never guess who I heard was back in town,' she continued.
'Who?'
'Paige Nicholls.' There was silence as both girls remem bered the accident that had killed one of their friends, another committing suicide, and the part that she had played in that.
'Well, that's interesting. I wonder what she's doing back here.'
Jess shrugged. 'No idea. And I don't really care.'
They laughed and talked into the night, soaking up one another's company. At midnight Gemma stretched and said, 'Well, this is the latest I've been up in ages. I need to go to bed. I've got to check the heifers in the morning – I've given Bulla and Garry the weekend off.'
'Yeah, I should go to bed too. Where am I sleeping?'
'Where you did last time. Second on the right. Do you remember where the bathroom is?'
'Yep, dishes?' asked Jess, yawning.
'In the morning, I think. Do you want to come with me tomorrow?'
'What time?'
'About five thirty.'
'No way! Sorry, Gem, you're on your own.'
'Night, Jess,' said Gemma with a smile. 'It's good to have you here.'
Jess moved forward to hug her friend. 'I'm glad I came. It's taken me too long. Night.'
It felt good to have someone else in the house, Gemma thought as she settled into bed. For the first time in months she slipped easily into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 3
By 5 am Gemma was up making coffee and looking out at the cold, clear day. Pale sunlight was just visible on the horizon. As welcome as the sun was, when she switched on the radio for the weather report, Gemma found herself hoping that the week would hold some rain. They had had good rains this year, but she would never knock back more.
By five thirty it was nearly light enough to see, so she wrote a note telling Jess not to expect her back before eight, though she knew it was likely she'd be back before Jess got up anyway.
Untying her dog Scoota, who ran madly around her legs in a morning greeting, she jumped in the ute and made her way towards the heifer paddock, her thoughts drifting to Jess. Something wasn't right with her, but Gemma knew her friend wouldn't talk to her about it until she was ready. They had had angry words more than once when Gemma had offered help before Jess was ready for it.
After opening and shutting several gates and driving over a couple of cattle grids, Gemma finally arrived at the heifers. She methodically counted the hundred cattle in the paddock; there weren't any problems this morning. She would come back this afternoon and check again.
Jess had woken when she heard Gemma leave. Tossing and turning, she finally decided that coffee was a better option than lying in bed alone with her thoughts, so she rose and dressed. Coffee in hand, she walked over to the fire and stoked it up, then went and stood in front of the wedding photo hanging on the wall in the big sunken lounge room. Looking pensively at Adam, she asked aloud, 'Were you the weak, untrustworthy bugger I think you were?'
She stood there for a long while, sipping coffee and looking at the photo, recalling her conversations with Adam, searching for any clue that might substantiate the rumours she'd heard in town, but nothing came to her. Sighing, she put down her cup and wandered outside. Instinctively, she headed towards the shearing shed, passing the kennels on the way. Gemma loved dogs, and whether they were good or useless, she always had at least five of them. Jess untied the house dog Scoota; he'd give her some companionship on her walk. A Lab look-alike with about a dozen different breeds in him, Scoota had belonged to an old grader driver who was going to have him put down because he couldn't take him on the road anymore. These days many people on farms objected to contract workers bringing dogs with them.
Jess hadn't spent a lot of time on Billbinya. Between her social life and work, there hadn't been the opportunity. She had quickly risen through the bank to loans manager, and though Jess told no one, she loved her numbers and her job with a passion. She specialised in agribusiness accounts that put her in contact with farmers, her past, which she also treasured. Because of her farming knowledge, she often received phone calls asking for her guidance on the industry and its opportunities, but even though she subscribed to many of the leading agribusiness and farming magazines, the answer wasn't always immediately clear. Jess would research the issue and return with good, professional advice.
With Scoota bouncing at her feet, she resumed her path to the shearing shed. She'd always loved the old lanolin smell of shearing sheds, the way everything was oily to the touch. Wood of the railings smooth from years of sheep rubbing against it. She breathed deeply, finding peace in the silence, then went outside to survey the scene she could see from the shed.
Walking on towards the creek, she bent down to pat Scoota and picked up a stick for him to chase. 'Do I tell her?' she asked the dog.
* * *
As Gemma approached the house she could smell the bacon and eggs already sizzling. Entering
the kitchen, she arched an eyebrow and said, 'Well I didn't think I'd see you this early.'
'Oh, I'm still able to get up early most days – I just choose not to. Do you want a coffee?'
'Is the Pope Catholic?'
'So what's the go for today? Do you have anything you have to do?' Jess asked as she moved about the kitchen getting coffee and turning the bacon.
'Nope, I'm all yours. Is there anything special you want to do?'
'Well, I was thinking that it would be fun to go camping. We could camp down by the creek where we used to go when you were first seeing Adam. Take the swags, have a fire – you know, all that sort of stuff we used to do before we got old and sensible.'
Gemma nodded slowly, the idea growing on her. 'Yeah, camping in winter. A fire, crisp air and some port to keep us warm. That sounds great. We can leave this afternoon after I've checked the heifers.'
'You've got a new ute,' Jess commented after they piled their swags and provisions into the tray late that afternoon and set off.
'Yeah.' Gemma rubbed the dash of the new white
Toyota LandCruiser affectionately as they bumped across the paddocks. 'I got it after Adam died. All the other vehicles on the station are old and pretty clapped out. I thought that if I was going to be out on the station, doing long distances by myself then I needed something reliable.'
'Good idea. Be horrible to get stuck out in the middle of nowhere and have to be rescued,' Jess agreed as they pulled up at their old camping site. It was exactly as Jess remembered – a sheltered spot on the side of the creek where native pine trees grew. There was a granite outcrop covered in old moss and the creek gravel was soft.
Setting the fire, Gemma laughed. 'I can't believe we're doing this. How old are we? We're supposed to be mature and responsible. This feels like we're teenagers again camping on Mum and Dad's place just so we could play our music up loud and smoke without getting caught!'
'Hey, want a rum and Coke? Let's party like we used to. We don't get many nights like this anymore.'
'That sounds like a plan.' As Jess got the drinks from the esky and Gemma set up the camp site she threw some more branches on the fire then rummaged through a box in the tray of the ute for a barbecue plate, chops and flour.
'Are you making damper? Fantastic! Well, I think fantastic – how old is that flour again?'
Gemma laughed and threw some of the flour at her. 'Here, make yourself useful. Grab some of those spuds and the foil and chuck them in the fire. I thought we could go the whole hog.'
'Ah, I've needed a night like this for a long time,' said Jess, leaning back against her swag and staring deep into the heart of the flames. 'So tell me, Gem, how are you really? You haven't said much at all about you or the farm or what's happening.'
Gemma took her drink and sat on her swag looking at Jess.
'I'm going okay. I thought it would be harder – well, no, that came out wrong; it's been bloody hard and I miss him so much, and would give anything to have him back again . . . but I'm doing all this stuff I never imagined I could do. And I can do it.'
'Well of course you bloody can,' said Jess indignantly.
'Yeah, but there are so many things I've wanted to ask and I can't and that always makes me feel frustrated. And going to bed without him . . . no one to cuddle or talk to . . .' Gemma's voice was getting softer and softer. She looked down at the ground and fiddled with the can in her hand. 'It gets a bit lonely, especially when I don't see anyone except for Garry and Bulla for days on end. I must admit that when the stock agents come, I quite enjoy it. There's a bit of news from around the district and someone different to talk to. Someone to throw ideas around with about stock and markets, that sort of stuff.'
Getting up she went back over to the card table to finish the damper.
'But I think that has helped me out emotionally, you know, being so busy on the farm and not having a lot of time to think during the day. Making sure that Billbinya runs smoothly and that there's enough money in the bank to pay all the bills isn't easy. I mean, I know I used to do some of the office work, but Adam did most of it and he was the one who knew when the big payments were due, like tractor payments or the payments to his mum and dad. To tell the truth, I'm not even sure how he managed to make some of the large payments. Sometimes there isn't enough money in the bank to pay the wages with, let alone make a loan repayment. I don't know how I'm going to come up with the money for the next repayment to his mum and dad, but I'll work something out. I've got a while yet, and shearing is coming up.'
There was a silence broken only by the crackling of the fire, and Jess noticed the card table wobbling as Gemma kneaded the damper harder than necessary – the only sign that Gemma was upset. She couldn't help but think that her friend wasn't really dealing with the emotions of losing her husband at all. Gemma had always been good at sweeping her feelings under the carpet.
Without looking up from what she was doing, Gemma said, 'I feel like I'm achieving something, but then I'll overhear some bloke in town talking about me "playing farming" and that really hurts. I know that people are gossiping, but it's awful to actually hear it.' Looking up she smiled sadly. 'I'm not playing, Jess; I really want to make this work.'
'Oh, Gem, I never thought for a minute that you were playing. I've always known that you can do this. It's all you've ever wanted to do – even when we were stuck in that stupid, pompous boarding school you only ever wanted to get back out to the farm. It has to be wide open spaces for our Gemma!'
'I miss Adam every day, but life goes on and I plan to have the best life I can for the rest of it,' Gemma said quietly.
She turned her attention to the damper again, muttering something under her breath that Jess couldn't quite hear.
'What was that?' asked Jess.
'I said I wish I could ask Adam about the discrepancy in the stock numbers,' Gemma repeated.
'What stock numbers?' asked Jess with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
'Most of our ewe numbers are up for lamb marking, which means the lamb count is up too. It's strange because he was always so good at keeping accurate figures. Bulla reckons that Adam always knew how many were in a mob, and some of these mobs have been up by five hundred. That isn't an insignificant amount. I've got the stock agent coming next week and we are going to get all the mobs of both cattle and sheep in and do a proper count. I need to be sure before 30 June so I've got the numbers right for the taxes.'
Jess was quiet. This was her opening. 'You know, Gem . . .'
But Gemma was still talking. 'I remember him being on the computer, using the stock management program saying he had shifted stock from one paddock to another, when I knew they hadn't been shifted at all, but I just figured he planned to shift them the next day or something like that.' She shrugged and gave Jess a big smile. 'Come on, the damper's ready to go in the fire and I need another drink.'
Jess opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. The moment had passed.
After dinner Jess undid her swag and pulled it up to the fire, then took off her boots and climbed in. Gemma put another big log onto the fire and did the same.
'Are you still having trouble with Ian and Joan?' asked Jess.
'Ah, the dreaded out-laws . . . No, not really. They were so upset about losing Adam that they really couldn't see past that and I was the obvious one to take it out on. They couldn't understand why he left the station to me rather than passing it back to them, but I think we've sorted that out. As long as they get the money they're owed, we get on pretty well. I go and see them when I'm in town and they ring occasionally to see what's going on, but we don't have that much to do with each other really. Ian thinks that a woman has no business running a station, but I just let him think that Dad is helping me make decisions.'
'And how is the money situation? Is it as bad as you just said?' asked Jess tentatively.
'Oh, I don't suppose. Farming is tight. Cash flow is the main problem, but I'll get it sorted in time. A
nyhow, what's bothering you? I know there's something wrong. Is it a bloke?'
Jess's stomach constricted. 'Me?' she said brightly. 'Nothing's wrong with me. Working hard at the bank, and not enough time to do all the things I want to do, but other than that everything is fine.'
'Uh huh,' said Gemma, clearly not convinced but deciding not to pursue it. 'What about that bloke you've been seeing . . . what was his name? Brad, Chad, Gonad?'
'Brad!' cried Jess huffily, leaning over to thump Gemma through the swag. 'He's wonderful,' she said dreamily.
'Aren't they all?' Gemma teased.
'This one is different,' Jess said.
'You always say that.'
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