by Gover, Janet
There was a long silence. Ed knew what Scott didn’t say. That he didn’t want to return to the house where he had experienced so much unhappiness. Ed couldn’t blame him for that.
‘I’ve been offered a job,’ Scott said at last, ‘restoring, among other things, a Lancia Aurelia and a 1956 Mercedes Gullwing.’
Ed let out a low whistle. ‘There aren’t many of those around.’
‘There aren’t.’
Scott hesitated and Ed knew there was something important about to be said.
‘Not in this country. The job is in England. At the National Museum of Motoring.’
Ed’s long stride faltered just a fraction, but he kept walking without looking at his son. ‘Ah. That explains why you were looking at their website the other night. That’s quite something. You’ll enjoy that. When do you leave?’
‘I was supposed to go this week, but I thought I might stay a bit longer. Trish has invited me to join the party and as I’ve put in the work …’ His voice trailed off.
‘It will be good to have you here for Christmas.’
They were almost back at the pub. Ed was about to suggest that Scott and he stop for a last beer, when movement up ahead caught his eye.
‘Candy?’
The old Labrador was limping slowly towards them, her tail wagging.
‘Hey, what are you doing out?’ Ed dropped to one knee to pat the dog. Candy’s tail waved happily, and she included Scott in the adoring gaze she cast at Ed. ‘That old gate doesn’t shut properly anymore,’ Ed said as he stood. ‘I’ll get on that in the morning. She shouldn’t be out on the road.’
Scott nodded his agreement.
‘I’d better take her back.’ Ed rose to his feet. After a moment’s hesitation, he held out his hand. ‘Goodnight, Son.’
Scott took it. ‘Goodnight, Dad.’
As they shook, Ed realised this was the first time he had touched his son since that last night. The night he had lifted his fist to a heartbroken and angry boy. The sense of shame he now felt was overpowering. He wanted to say something. To apologise and ask for Scott’s forgiveness. But instead, he turned and, with his dog at his side, crossed the road back to his dark and empty house.
Chapter Sixteen
‘It’s all right you know. There’s nothing to be ashamed off.’
Katie splashed some more water over her face.
‘Some people just don’t like small planes,’ Jess’s voice continued from the other side of the bathroom door. ‘Really. I have a pilot friend who throws up if he gets into anything smaller than a 747.’
Katie appreciated Jess’s good intentions, but right now, nothing was going to make her feel any better. She rinsed her mouth out again, then wiped her face on the towel. From the mirror, a white-faced woman looked back at her, her eyes rimmed with red. It wasn’t a very flattering image. She turned away.
Jess was waiting outside. The hangar doors were wide open. So was the door to the air ambulance. Jess was carrying a bucket.
‘I’ll clean it up,’ Katie said, her cheeks burning at the thought of what Jess was about to do.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll do it.’ Jess put a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s an air ambulance remember. I’ve had to clean up far worse.’
Katie wanted to insist. Perhaps salvage just a little bit of self-respect. But the thought of climbing back inside that plane was almost enough to make her retch again.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a whisper.
‘It’s not a problem.’ Jess hesitated. ‘You know, some people just aren’t cut out for… this.’ She waved an arm that seemed to encompass everything from the tin shed that was her hanger, to the aircraft and the whole of the outback. ‘I’m not trying to get rid of you or anything. And Adam says you’re a good nurse. But maybe … just maybe this isn’t the right place for you.’
That thought had already occurred to Katie. And she had trouble shaking it as she drove back towards the hospital and her small flat. It would be so easy to simply go home. Jess and Adam would understand why. And her family would too, when she arrived back in London. No-one would blame her. Well, no-one but herself. To leave now would be to admit that she had failed. Failed to prove to herself that nursing was the right place for her. Failed to recapture her passion for the only career she had ever wanted. And if she gave up now, what would she do? Get a job stacking shelves in a supermarket? Maybe she could get a job at a school. That wasn’t what she wanted.
Feeling pretty despondent she turned into the hospital driveway – and saw Scott. He was sitting on the hospital veranda, obviously waiting for her. Her heart did a little somersault.
There was another reason not to pack up and go home. Scott. As a nurse she’d been chatted up by more than a few doctors. She’d been taken out to dinner in fancy restaurants with fine wine. And not one of them had ever made her heart leap like that.
What was it about this man sitting on her doorstep with a bag that no doubt contained beer? In just a few days he had come to mean more to her than any of those smart doctors with their fancy restaurants and expensive wine.
Realisation crashed down on her like a block of concrete. She didn’t want to leave Coorah Creek because she didn’t want to leave Scott. Yet Scott was going to leave too.
She didn’t believe in love at first site. Attraction – yes. Lust – of course. And there was certainly a fair measure of both between her and Scott. Not love. Not yet. But maybe if they gave themselves a chance, this could become something special.
But Scott was leaving. All she would have is a job she didn’t really enjoy. Jess was right. Coorah Creek was not the place for her.
She parked the car, and almost before she was out, Scott was at her side.
‘How are you feeling?’
She frowned. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Trish said you’d been sick on the plane.’
‘How does that woman know these things?’ Katie shook her head. ‘Is she psychic? Does she have CCTV cameras all over town? How does she do it?’
Scott chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her in a mighty bear hug.
He doesn’t care, she thought, that I have been sick on the plane. I hate to think what I smell like. And god knows I look awful. But he doesn’t care about that. He cares about me. Me.
And suddenly she really did feel fine. Even better than fine.
By the time she had showered and changed, Scott had a cup of tea waiting for her. They settled on her couch and Katie felt herself begin to relax. She told Scott about the flight to help a stockman who had fallen from a windmill while fixing it, and broken his arm.
‘It was a nasty break. But Adam fixed it,’ she said. ‘He’s a good doctor. He does things on site that would require transport to a hospital back home.’ She sighed heavily.
‘I hope that sigh wasn’t caused by our handsome doctor,’ Scott joked.
‘No,’ Katie grinned. ‘I was just thinking—’
‘What?’
‘When I was younger I wanted to be a doctor. I imagined myself being some sort of hero and saving lives. Doing the sort of thing Adam does almost every day.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I don’t come from an affluent family. They wouldn’t have been able to afford to put me through medical school. None of the kids at my school ever aimed that high. I was lucky to be able to study nursing.’
‘Any regrets?’
‘Sometimes. Nursing in a big London hospital isn’t really for me. It’s too impersonal. The patients all run together into a blur. There are times I felt I wasn’t really helping anyone.’
‘So it’s better for you here?’
‘The work is better. But the flying terrifies me. I doubt I will ever be able to do the air ambulance thing properly.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Scott said.
‘Either that or I’ll have to get some better travel sickness pills. The ones Adam gave me today didn’t help at all.’
Scott lifted her
hand and gently kissed the back of it. ‘You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.’
At that moment, as she looked into his smiling eyes and waited for him to kiss her lips, she believed him.
It was quite a few minutes before Scott was able to stop kissing Katie. He just loved the softness of her lips. He could go on kissing her for hours. He could do a lot more too, but he wasn’t going to. It was going to be hard enough to leave her now. If this thing between them went any further, he would never want to walk away.
‘I spent some time with my dad last night,’ he said.
Her face lit up. ‘That’s great. What did you do?’
‘It was that woman again.’ He grinned. ‘Trish roped me into helping them to set up for the town Christmas party. Dad was there. We worked together for a bit.’
‘Are you starting to mend the bridges?’
‘I think so. We walked back together afterwards and we talked.’
‘What did you talk about?’
It had come. He’d told his father. Now it was time to tell Katie.
‘I have a job offer. Restoring classic cars for a motor museum.’
‘Wonderful! That sounds just right for you. Tell me all about it.’
She was looking at him, her eyes shining with joy for him. But what would happen if he told her that the job was in England? He couldn’t do it. It was wrong, he knew that, but he wanted to postpone that moment as long as possible. He wouldn’t lie to her, but at this moment, he just couldn’t tell her the truth.
‘I met the manager when he came into my shop. He liked the work I was doing. They have two amazing new cars arriving soon. Really rare and valuable. He offered me the job restoring them. It’s an honour really.’
‘That’s great! We should celebrate. I can make that dinner I promised you last night before I got called away.’ Katie was getting to her feet. He reached out to pull her back to the couch.
‘Wait. Katie. I … I’m thinking of saying no.’
‘Oh.’
She sat beside him, looking at his face. He could see the question in her eyes.
‘The job would mean leaving Coorah Creek. There are a lot of things holding me here,’ he said. ‘I think I am starting to make some connection with Dad …’
‘That’s great,’ she said softly. ‘I’m happy for you.’
‘And there’s you, Katie. I don’t want to leave just yet. I want to spend more time with you. I’ve never felt this close to anyone before. And so quickly. I don’t know what it is … or what it might become. But I’m not ready to walk away. Not yet.’
He saw the tears in her eyes, adding to their luminous shine. Gently he reached out to run his thumb along her cheekbone. It came back damp.
‘I don’t want you to.’
He kissed her. Her tears added a spicy saltiness to the softness of her lips. He took her face between the palms of his hands, and kissed those tears away. Then they kissed some more, long deep slow kisses that drove the sadness away.
‘You know,’ Katie said with a smile when at last they could both speak again. ‘You are my oldest friend in this whole country. Not by much,’ she added hastily. ‘I only met you half an hour before I met some of the other people here. But that half hour; it means a lot when you’re a long way from home at Christmas.’
He heard the pain underneath the words. She was homesick. He understood that. He would do everything he could to drive that away. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close and as he did he realised something strange. If she was his oldest friend – her second oldest friend – the second person she had met in The Creek – was his father. Maybe there was a lesson there … but he had no idea what it was.
Chapter Seventeen
The rain on the roof sounded as if all the dwarves from Middle Earth were up there pounding away with their hammers, and had brought their friends from Snow White along for the ride. The ceaseless pounding on the corrugated iron roof was deafening. Katie put her hands over her ears. After a couple of weeks of rising temperatures and brilliant blue skies, the wet season had arrived with a vengeance.
She turned over and covered her head with her pillow.
What sort of a country only had two seasons? Back in England, the changing of the seasons was accompanied by soft changes in light, by leaf kicking and pristine white snow. There were brilliant summer days, punctuated by bird song, and cold wet winter nights to spend huddled in front of a roaring fire. You knew where you where weather-wise in England.
But not here. Oh no!
There were no leaves to kick – because those scrubby gum trees never lost their leaves. There was no winter … only a wet season and a dry season – differentiated, thusly by one wit at the pub: during the dry season it’s hot all the time and doesn’t rain and in the wet season it’s hot all the time and rains almost every day. Call that seasons? She certainly didn’t.
She sat up in bed and glared at the ceiling – as if by doing so she could stop the rain. The drumming continued.
Katie slid out of bed and padded barefoot into the living room. She walked over to the window and stared out at the rain. There wasn’t much to see. Without street lights or a light from another building, it was too dark. Sighing, she made her way to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. Tea would help. It always did.
As she waited for the water to boil, she glanced at the clock. It was just after 11 o’clock. Almost Christmas day. And she felt about as Christmassy as a cold cheese and tomato sandwich.
She poured the tea and walked back into her lounge room. The steam rising from her cup served to highlight the temperature as she went to switch on the overhead fan. Christmas shouldn’t be in mid-summer. It just didn’t feel right to have Christmas with not even the faintest hope of a snowball.
She blew across the top of her cup to cool the liquid, and took a small sip. Her mum always said a good cup of tea made every situation better. She was probably right … she was about most things. Oh, but Katie missed her family. Especially now. If she was back in England, she would be at her parents’ house, with her brother and sister. They’d be drinking tea too – but doing it together. And talking.
A fierce crack of lightning caused her to jump. Damn this storm. Not only was it keeping her awake, her somewhat fragile internet connection had given up the ghost. She’d only managed about two minutes of Skype conversation with her family earlier this evening, before the connection dropped out. God only knew when it would come back.
She sipped her tea again and admitted that really, she was just in a bad mood. Totally homesick. And lonely.
It wasn’t just that her family weren’t here. She was missing the whole Christmas experience. She hadn’t even wrapped a present. Sure, she’d sent some small souvenirs home to her family – but that wasn’t the same as piling brightly wrapped gifts, covered in ribbons and bows under a tree. She didn’t have anyone to wrap a present for.
Except Scott.
She so wanted to give Scott a gift. Somehow, in all the strangeness of this new life, he was the one thing that felt familiar and comforting. That felt like home. She’d taken some time off work and scoured every shop in Coorah Creek for a present. There were not many shops, and nothing that that she wanted to give to Scott. Sure, she could buy him a bottle of wine, or a new hat. But she wanted something a bit more personal than that. Something that would let him know she would miss him when he was gone back to the city for his new job. She wanted a gift that would tell him how wonderful it was to have him in a place that was so strange there were times she wasn’t even sure she spoke the same language. Language! That was it.
She leaped to her feet. At her going away party, her friends had given her gifts. The usual joke gifts that suited such occasions. She found what she was looking for in a drawer in her bedroom. It was a book – The English-Australian Dictionary. She flicked through the pages as she carried it back to the couch. There were the usual entries – Sheila as Australian for girl. Bonza meaning good – althoug
h she’d not heard any Australian actually say that. There were some interesting words too. She didn’t know that a wild horse was called a brumby in Australia. And that the peppers she ate in the UK were called capsicums in the southern hemisphere.
She found a pen and notebook and started scribbling down words… ridgy-didge (genuine), cobber (friend) Pommy (English person)… there was a lot of material. She chewed the end of the pen and tried a few phrases on the notebook. She was getting there. At last she had it figured out. She turned to the front page of the phrase book and began to write. The last word caused her to pause. She flicked through the book one more time, but some words are the same in every language.
When she was done, she pulled out a map of Queensland she had bought on her first day in the country. Coorah Creek was circled in black felt pen. That would make great wrapping paper.
At last the gift was ready. It wasn’t anything like any Christmas gift she had wrapped before. There were no ribbons and bows. No red and green and gold fancy paper. It wasn’t the most expensive she’d ever given either. But this gift was as personal to her as a gift could be.
She sat back and yawned. The blinking clock on her TV showed that it was ten minutes past midnight. Christmas Day! Not only that, the room was silent. She hadn’t noticed that the rain had stopped. A good thing too, she thought, or else Santa and his reindeer would get wet. Or did kangaroos pull Santa’s sleigh in this part of the world.
Smiling, she made her way back to bed. Her last thought as she fell asleep was that maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad “Chrissy” after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny at Coorah Creek. The trees still shone with the last drops of the overnight rain and the air had that crisp clean taste that only comes after a thunderstorm. The kookaburras fluffed their feathers and chortled as the sun rose. A lone kangaroo hopped across the road on the outskirts of town, and disappeared in the direction of the national park to the north. The huge machinery of the mine was silent on this one day of the year when no work was done.