The Cowgirl

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The Cowgirl Page 8

by Anthea Hodgson


  ‘Did you know about this house buried on my farm?’ she asked.

  Audrey considered a crooked scone, broke it in half and smothered it in jam. ‘I think I remember Deirdre telling me about it years ago, but she’s not a great sharer, generally.’

  ‘No, until other people are doing stuff she disapproves of, then she’s fine with it.’

  Audrey laughed. ‘And how are you getting on with Will?’

  ‘Oh, he’s, you know, Will. He’s okay. He’s a bit different, isn’t he?’

  Audrey appeared to consider her. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I think he is. He’s always been that way – always looking for an adventure, young Will. I think that’s why he’s still alone. He doesn’t want any ties.’ She put the scone down and dusted her hands of crumbs. ‘Young people,’ she sighed. ‘Nothing changes.’

  Teddy was carrying out the assortment of dainty cakes just as Deirdre and the rest of the Windstorm girls started clattering into the tearooms. Lara, a librarian who volunteered at the school, arrived dressed in a bright red blazer with long purple beads. She was joking with local horsewoman Trish as they entered the tearooms, and they greeted Deirdre and Cate as they sat down. Deirdre was wearing an old floral dress she’d picked up many years ago when she was on a trip to Perth, and she was sitting with Luise Hofmann, a quiet bird-like woman whose sponge cake was the stuff of local legend.

  ‘That child of yours is making a mess on the front counter,’ she was saying to Cate.

  ‘Ah, well.’ Cate smiled back benignly. ‘She was watching Peppa Pig this morning. I think Peppa went to her dad’s office, so she’s obsessed with offices and paper now. Kath says it’s good work experience – I pay her for the envelopes.’

  ‘Kath won’t mind a bit of mess. But she’s a wild one, that one,’ Deirdre grumbled.

  ‘She sure is,’ Cate said proudly.

  As she spoke, Will wandered in almost apologetically, his hair still wet from the shower.

  ‘Hi,’ he said to the group in general. ‘I’m Will. Hamish gave me a lift in.’

  Audrey’s head popped out from the small kitchen that serviced the tearooms. She was beaming. ‘Will darling, I’m so glad you could come in and meet the girls.’

  Will was blushing. Teddy was amused by him and sort of touched. He was hating it already. Audrey Higgins-Devine had a willing slave, and she’d love to have known why.

  ‘Who’s the little girl working on the front counter?’

  ‘She’s mine,’ Cate grinned.

  ‘Well, she’s very sweet. What’s her name?’ There was a pause and the women in the room looked to Cate.

  ‘Brigit,’ she said. ‘Her name is Brigit.’

  ‘Now, Will, who here do you know?’ Audrey began escorting him around as another small group of women entered the tearooms.

  ‘I know Deirdre, of course . . .’

  Audrey took pity on him. ‘Let me introduce you to the others, dear . . .’

  Teddy went back to the kitchen to woman the urn. It was an old warhorse you had to get to know before it would trust you. If you turned it on and set it too high, it would protest and take twice the time to heat the water. Audrey had eased it into its day by turning it on halfway so Teddy turned it up, added a kettleful of boiling water, and gave it a reassuring pat.

  She was cutting up the lemon cake and listening to the happy chatter when she heard Will’s voice join in. He was getting the gentle grilling that every extended family member could expect upon arrival in town. Teddy risked a peek before she took the tray of tea and cakes to the girls.

  Will was talking to Luise Hofmann, explaining the latest dig he’d been on, the Roman coins he’d collected from between the roots of an old oak tree, and how careful he’d been to leave the ancient tendrils of the tree undisturbed.

  Teddy liked the sound of his voice. She let herself lean in the doorway for a second and imagine it late at night. Outside a noisy tavern in Crete or a cafe in Prague, watching the snow fall from the flint sky to the white streets below. She worked silently in the kitchen, listening to Will describing the buried house, as if it promised to give up piles of money and gold.

  ‘It all sounds very mysterious and interesting, Deirdre,’ Lara said. ‘Do you have anything in particular you’re hoping to see again?’

  ‘Nothing special,’ she said, smoothing the bright blue dress over her tired knees. ‘I just thought it was time to bring some old things back out into the light, that’s all.’

  Nothing special. Teddy stopped arranging cake onto plates for a long moment. She thought about the secret house she had never suspected lay there, hidden beneath the ground on which she walked every day. She thought about Deirdre, looking out from her kitchen window, her hands in cooling sink water, staring at the spot where she used to live. She imagined her wiping her hands dry on her favourite tea towel, combing her wild grey hair, and leaving the house for another day’s activity, without ever saying a word. She stood for a moment longer, wondering if she could imagine her story.

  The conversation moved on and they were discussing the tearooms, which had changed little since the 1920s when old Mr Honeyman had first bought the co-op.

  The wan winter light was shining through the kitchen window like pale honey and soaking into the dark wood panelling.

  Nothing special. Teddy warmed her hands on the urn, decanted some into a jug and wondered about her father’s stories. The stories about buried treasure.

  Out in the tearooms, Margaret had arrived, a little late, as usual. She was a busy woman, always off to meetings and writing letters to important people to keep them appraised of local issues. Audrey had the CWA teapot on hand. She poured Deirdre another cup of tea, and Teddy followed up with a generous dash of hot water. Deirdre liked a weak cup.

  ‘I think it’s a fascinating exercise,’ Audrey said. ‘I’m so glad my Will was able to help.’

  Teddy noticed Deirdre’s hands, the way they clenched. There was something.

  ‘Now I think it’s time we discussed a rehearsal for the vintage dress parade,’ Trish announced. She was a striking woman with blonde hair, pale blue eyes and a quick laugh. She was dedicated to her horses and her two teenaged daughters. She knew who to ask to get things done locally, and when she didn’t, she did them herself. Teddy slumped where she stood.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Will.

  ‘We’re raising money for Alzheimer’s research, and we thought an old-fashioned event like a vintage dress parade would be a good way to do it.’

  ‘So, uhh, ladies walk around in old dresses?’

  ‘Probably mostly in wedding and debutante dresses. They’ll be wearing whatever gala wear they can find. It’s a good afternoon out.’

  Will looked towards Teddy. ‘Is Teddy in it?’ he asked. There were some awkward glances.

  ‘No,’ Teddy said. ‘I’m not.’

  Will looked to Deirdre. ‘You don’t have a dress?’

  Deirdre was irritated. ‘I cut up my wedding dress for a skirt for another young lady who needed a few nice pieces. I do still have my debutante dress,’ she said. ‘Teddy just has other interests, that’s all.’ Deirdre took another sip of grey tea. ‘And there’s an end to it.’

  ‘But she’d make any dress look good – why doesn’t she wear yours? For old times’ sake?’

  ‘Will, you don’t know my girl and she doesn’t want to be involved. That’s enough.’

  Will looked amazed and turned to Teddy.

  ‘Teddy Broderick. Is Deirdre trying to tell me you’re too scared to wear a dress? And to walk around among your friends?’

  Teddy blushed. ‘None of your business, Will. But thanks for your disturbing interest in old ladies’ dresses. Now, would you care for something else to eat?’

  ‘Yes, I would.’ He leaned closer to Deirdre. ‘And I would also like to offer a five hundred dollar donation if Teddy wears your deb dress.’ There was a murmuring of approval among the ladies.

  Sarah was more than impressed. Her voice wa
s known locally as both a natural disaster and one of the seven wonders of the world. ‘WHAT?!’ she exclaimed and Luise dropped her teaspoon with a clatter. ‘Five hundred bucks? Teddy, you’re doing it. If I have to strip you naked and shove you in the damn dress myself.’

  ‘Sarah, I’m not good at that stuff —’

  ‘You’re not good at wearing clothes and walking about? Come on, Teddy. Do it for the cause.’ They had her there and Teddy knew it. She’d look like an arsehole if she knocked back a good donation to such a great cause.

  She glared at Will, who smiled benignly. ‘Thanks so much, Will,’ she said icily. ‘Of course I would be happy to wear a dress and walk about.’ Will grinned at her, immune.

  It wasn’t often she was irritated with people. Teddy much preferred to go unnoticed by the world. She didn’t want people to care what she baked or wore, who she spoke to, or even if she was there at all, really.

  ‘Lucky we’ve got you on board before our rehearsals, Teddy,’ Trish said. ‘I thought we could spend a couple of hours in the hall setting up this week.’

  ‘Did you find someone to do the music?’ one of the ladies asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Will can do it,’ Teddy said.

  ‘Fine.’ He grinned at her. ‘Happy to help,’ he added.

  ‘That would be wonderful, Will,’ Luise said, toying with her lemon cake. ‘And how’s your lovely boyfriend going, Teddy? Still working on that merger?’

  Teddy flushed. ‘Yeah. He’s a bit over it at this point, but they’ve offered him a more interesting contract, so we’ll see. He might stay on in London a while longer.’

  ‘And then he’ll come out to spend some time with you, I hope!’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I’d be pretty disappointed if he didn’t.’

  Deirdre sipped her tea. ‘That Byron is a hard worker, I’ll give him that.’ She nodded with approval just as the Campbell sisters straggled into the room under the weight of two boxes of lemons.

  ‘Nobody leaves afternoon tea without at least five lemons,’ Olivia Campbell declared, lowering the boxes to the floor with her sister. ‘We’ve got too many and they’re going rotten on the tree!’

  ‘No good for me,’ Deirdre grunted. ‘My tree’s overloaded, too.’ She glared at Olivia. ‘You didn’t tell me you were back from Queensland,’ she said disapprovingly. Olivia settled into her spot.

  ‘We got back on Wednesday. The grandkids are gorgeous. Had a lovely time.’

  Deirdre harrumphed. ‘I would have brought in the Irish apple cake if I’d known you were back,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Oh!’ Olivia said. ‘My absolute favourite! I wish I’d known you Broderick girls were on afternoon tea, I’d have let you know!’ She beamed at the older woman, who looked disappointed on her behalf. ‘I demand to have it next time, Deirdre. You make sure.’

  Deirdre nodded. ‘It’s no trouble,’ she announced dismissively.

  Teddy looked about and noted they nearly had a full room. She retreated to the kitchen for a few more small plates of cake. She had two in one hand and was just reaching for a third when a man’s hand came over her shoulder and took it from the counter.

  ‘I thought you might need some help,’ Will murmured.

  She jumped. She always jumped when someone spoke directly to the back of her neck. It was creepy. The back half of her body was suddenly warm – it knew it was being watched – and her pulse quickened. Some cream wobbled and then flopped from a scone onto the plate.

  ‘Careful,’ he admonished softly. ‘I thought you were practically a professional at this.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I work alone.’ She moved to the sink to put some space between them. He regarded her quickly, but if he had decided she was being defensive, he had also decided to ignore it.

  ‘Or with Audrey,’ he amended for her. ‘Who’s out partying with the rest of the girls.’

  ‘I assume she believes you’re representing the family.’

  ‘Nah – I’m here for my own purposes.’

  She turned to him armed with carbohydrates. ‘Which are?’

  ‘I need to hear more about this Byron of yours. He sounds fabulous.’

  She glared at him.

  ‘Really, he sounds like he works in a proper office and everything.’

  ‘I reckon there are people in the world right now who are just waiting to punch you in the face,’ she growled.

  ‘You one of them?’

  ‘I’ll get Byron to do it.’

  ‘Why don’t you get him to write me a sonnet instead? I like ones about clouds – and how pretty I am.’

  ‘Get fucked.’

  ‘Hmm, rhymes with . . .’

  Audrey came back with a couple of empty plates. ‘Can we have some more of the lemon cake, please, dear? Lara and Trish are begging me!’

  Teddy piled up a few more slices of her grandma’s lemon cake so that they teetered on the tiny floral plate while Audrey waited.

  ‘Audrey, are you sure you two are related by blood? Because –’ she frowned up at Will, still standing too close to her – ‘you know, sometimes they make mistakes at the hospital . . .’ Audrey laughed.

  ‘This lovely man is all mine!’ she declared proudly, and even Will had the grace to look a little embarrassed. ‘Well, he’s all his mother’s, of course, but I’d like to think we are special friends too.’ Will had stretched his free arm out and pulled her to him. He kissed the top of her fluffy head and she made a happy noise like a little chicken nestling with its mother. Teddy was surprised by the sweetness of the gesture.

  ‘Let me help take some more tea and cake out for Teddy, then send her down the pub,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ chirped Audrey and she disappeared out into the tearoom laden with plates of cake.

  ‘So why didn’t you want to do the dress thing?’ he asked quietly. She sniffed, just like Deirdre did when she didn’t like the direction that a conversation was taking. Will leaned back on the seventies kitchen bench and waited, his face kind.

  ‘I just didn’t want to.’

  ‘Hey, Teddy, I don’t imagine that any of these women are hanging out to play dress-ups, but you really didn’t want to. Why?’

  ‘If you think that then why did you force my hand?’ she said. ‘Seems kind of jerky to me.’

  ‘I did it because I think you need to do it,’ he said.

  ‘I am none of your business.’

  ‘I know that,’ he responded. ‘But I think you avoid stuff. You hide on the farm, you hide in the kitchen, you don’t want to participate in the parade if people are going to look at you. I just thought it would be good.’

  ‘It won’t,’ she snapped.

  He reached down and took a piece of shortbread. ‘I grew up on this stuff,’ he said. ‘Audrey was good to me.’

  ‘Did you need her to be?’

  He paused, his face sad for a moment. ‘Yeah, and I needed her to be tough with me, too.’ He took a small bite and then held the short-bread out to her. ‘Try some,’ he said. ‘It’ll give you muscles.’

  ‘I’m holding food.’ She held up the dishes she had arranged with afternoon tea. He broke a piece off and stepped closer.

  ‘Open your mouth,’ he said softly, and he gently placed the sweet shortbread in her lips, his brilliant blue eyes on her.

  Teddy had tasted Audrey’s shortbread a thousand times. The recipe had come from her aunt who had once lived in a castle as a housekeeper to the Duke of Argyll. But in the Windstorm co-op tearooms that nondescript Friday afternoon, when Will slipped the shortbread into Teddy’s mouth, she couldn’t help but wonder if something had changed. It was simple, golden and buttery. Shortbread had never tasted so good.

  ‘Stop looking at me,’ she murmured, putting down the plates. He ignored her.

  ‘You look stronger already,’ he whispered. He leaned down quickly and kissed her cheek. ‘See you at the pub.’

  ‘I am not coming to the pub!’ she called after him, touching her face in disbelief
.

  ‘Yeah, you are,’ came sailing back.

  By the time Teddy arrived, Will was leaning on the bar like he owned the pub. Michelle was watching him with fascination. He was kind of gently dishevelled, but if you gave him a hundred and fifty years he looked as if he’d go more the Keith Richards route than the Meat Loaf direction. He held up a second beer when she got to the bar.

  ‘You look like you knew I was coming,’ she told him.

  ‘I hoped. I bought a spare so we could beat the crowd.’ They glanced around and saw two locals sitting in the corner with a jug. ‘Lucky I did, too.’

  Teddy settled onto a stool, and tried to relax. She knew the farmers in the corner, and the three blokes standing near them at the bar. It was fine. Even if she didn’t know them, it was fine. She glanced about again, despite herself, feeling somehow anxious. She felt her pulse flickering at her throat but stamped it down. It was fine.

  ‘Well, thanks,’ she said, ‘but I think I’d better get going soon.’

  He nudged the beer in her direction. She was going to have to finish it.

  ‘How’d the rest of the afternoon tea go?’ he asked. She ran her hands down the cold slick glass.

  Teddy was sick of afternoon teas, really. She sometimes felt stifled by the endless routine, by the same conversations with the same people. She loved all the girls but many of them had actually been places and done things, and she envied them that. She knew all about Luise Hofmann’s varicose veins, and too much about Ian Hancock’s irritable bowel. She knew about what had happened with the Campbell farm and how unfairly poor Mrs Campbell had been treated after the divorce.

  ‘Yeah – it was fine,’ she said. ‘We had a good number in this week – Audrey will work out how much we’ve raised for the church committee. It’s the Progress Association next week.’

  ‘It’s a nice tradition,’ Will said, sipping his beer, ‘and those women really know how to grill you for information. Do you all take a course or something? Like an ASIO thing, only really obvious?’

  Teddy laughed. ‘We like to know who we’re dealing with,’ she told him. ‘You got a free pass really, because of Audrey. You can stuff up at least half-a-dozen times now and they’ll still cut you some slack.’ She thought of Deirdre. ‘Well, maybe not all of them.’

 

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