by Sasha Wasley
Late in the evening, Willow started pulling out the fruit platters she’d organised for dessert and saw that Cathy Forrest had made her famous pavlova. Dad’s favourite. There was no way Barry’d be able to resist. She sighed and loaded up the sticky mess of meringue and whipped cream with more fruit, hoping he’d get at least some healthy stuff on his plate when he served himself his usual massive slice. As she carried the platters outside, Barry stood up and asked for ‘a bit of shush’. He wanted to make a speech.
‘Tonight we’re celebrating because I’m a stubborn old bastard who wouldn’t die, even when my ticker tried to conk out.’ There was a general laugh, although Willow exchanged a look of shared discomfort with Beth. ‘And we’re also celebrating because my girl’s come home. Not everybody knows this but my Willow has always been the one set to take on the station, and now that the old heart’s decided to go dodgy on me, it seems like as good a time as ever. Willow’s been studying sustainable agriculture for years and she’s got some bloody fantastic ideas. She’s going to take Patersons into the future and I have total trust in her.’
Willow was touched but slightly alarmed by this very public declaration. All eyes flicked between her and her dad. ‘Robin and I always knew that she was the one who’d run the station one day. Right from when Willow was a little tot and we’d find her napping with the poddy calves or wandering into the yards to chat away to the cattle.’
Barry’s eyes glistened and Willow’s heart ached for him. She forgot about the people watching and decided deep inside that she would do her father proud. ‘So I’ve asked you all here, my nearest and dearest, to witness the official handover. Willow, Paterson Downs is in your hands. Welcome home, sweetheart.’
There was a spontaneous raising of glasses – people toasting to Barry and Willow, to the Patersons. Willow had no words of reply. She just hugged her father and whispered that she would do her very best for him. Beth shot her a warm smile from where she stood next to Bob and Cathy Forrest, and Willow knew her sister would do anything she could to support her, too.
The party seemed to relax after Barry’s announcement, and the beer and bubbly flowed. Willow even drank a glass of sparkling. The drink steadied her nerves when she spotted Tom in the kitchen, helping Beth load the dishwasher.
‘Hey, Tom,’ she said as he rinsed a plate. ‘I just wanted to say thanks. You saved the party.’ She really meant it. It felt good to be back where she belonged, at Paterson Downs, and to have Tom around again. She grinned up at him.
He didn’t smile back. ‘No problem,’ he said.
And walked out.
Beth and Willow exchanged startled glances. Willow’s spirits sank. It was true, then. He was still mad at her. Her own anger charged up. Ten years, for God’s sake. He should be over it by now.
‘What was that about?’ asked Beth.
Willow searched for something to say but the story was too complicated. She gave up. ‘Not sure.’
Beth hung a tea towel and smoothed her hair back. ‘What actually happened between you and Tom when you went to uni? There seemed to be some kind of bust up, or something. Everyone noticed it.’
Willow tried to hide her dismay. ‘Everyone noticed?’
‘Of course we did. You two were inseparable for years and then suddenly you weren’t. And Tom changed his mind about going to uni.’
Willow glanced at the patio. ‘I’d better get back to the party.’
Beth just gave a short laugh. ‘Yeah okay, Willow. But you know I’m staying over tonight, right? And I want answers.’
‘He thought he had the hots for me. I guess he was just a typical boy, you know? Hormones on legs.’
Beth didn’t look as surprised as Willow had expected. They were seated on the darkened patio, having cleared the empty bottles and packaged up the leftovers for the station kitchen. Barry had been in bed for over half an hour and, judging by the effusive thanks the guests had showered Willow with as they left, the night had been a success. But she had a gnawing feeling of worry in her gut. Tom’s dismissive moment and Cathy Forrest’s coolness had unsettled her.
‘And you weren’t interested?’ Beth asked.
‘Of course not!’ Willow exclaimed. She checked the kitchen window just in case Barry was hovering after all, but all was quiet. ‘Tom was my best friend. It was a betrayal when he did what he did.’
Beth tipped her head. ‘Which was what, specifically?’
‘He tried to kiss me.’ Willow sipped her sparkling wine and glanced sidelong at Beth, who laughed.
‘I bet that went down well.’
‘He totally ruined our big moment. We’d just found out we got into uni.’
‘Maybe he thought he was making the big moment even bigger?’ her sister suggested.
Willow shrugged. ‘He got that wrong.’
‘And you honestly never saw it coming? I’d been expecting it for years.’
‘I must have missed the memo,’ Willow said bitterly. ‘In fact, he and I promised one another when we were, like, fifteen, that we’d avoid that situation.’
Beth’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s a weird thing to do!’ Willow gazed across the paddocks, ignoring Beth’s intent look. ‘Ah. Willow trying to control the future again? Maybe Cathy Forrest worked out what happened. I wonder if that’s why she’s a bit funny with you now – you know, because you hurt her precious boy.’
The thought saddened Willow. ‘I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just didn’t want that. You know. With Tom. I don’t think I’m destined to be with a partner, get married, whatever.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘Married to the land, cobber,’ Willow said, putting on an elaborate Aussie accent.
Beth chuckled. ‘You had relationships when you were living in Perth, though.’
‘A couple of boyfriends while I was doing my undergrad. Nothing serious.’
Beth considered her. ‘When I came and saw you at work last year, I got a vibe that professor you worked with – Dale? – I got the vibe he was interested.’
Willow made a face. ‘Totally not my type. The guy didn’t like to get his hands dirty with real farming, you know?’
‘So you like real farmers? But not Tom Forrest.’
Willow shook her head uncomfortably.
‘What about Hegney?’
‘Beth, are you trying to set me up? I just told you I’m not cut out for marriage! I’ve got more important fish to fry than dating someone or getting hitched. Can you imagine me in a frilly apron waiting at the home and hearth?’
Beth snorted. ‘I don’t think that’s quite how marriage works these days, Willow. You might recall our own mother was never like that.’
‘True. Still, it’s not something I’m interested in.’
Beth was quiet for a while, her eyes on the hanging ferns their mother had planted all those years ago, now bursting from their baskets with unfurling fronds. ‘Well, I’m glad to have that mystery solved. I thought maybe he’d pushed you to – um – to take it to the next level, and then you’d had regrets. I was actually a bit suspicious of him. I started to avoid him a bit, too.’
Willow reddened and felt almost angry that Beth had suspected such a thing of Tom. ‘Jesus, Beth.’
‘Well, you were best friends forever and then suddenly you weren’t,’ Beth said with an apologetic glance. ‘Not just that, but you wouldn’t have any contact at all after it happened. Even when you came home on study vacations, you would stay in your room if the Forrests came over, or pretend to be sick, or studying, if we were going over to Quintilla. I covered for you with Dad because I thought something must have gone seriously wrong.’
Willow tried not to tear up. Damn wine. ‘Thanks.’
‘Tom changed, you know.’
Willow had been afraid of this. She didn’t speak.
‘He became more serious after you left. Before that he was always laughing – joking, you know? But when you left, he stopped. He seemed unhappy. He totally changed. I could
n’t tell if it was guilt or anger.’
To hear this made Willow feel terrible. She hated that her fun-loving childhood best friend had changed – because of her. But she was also mad at him. He’d changed himself. He didn’t have to be like that.
Idiot.
‘He got on with things, though,’ Willow said. ‘Girlfriends and stuff. He’s going out with the cook at Quintilla now, isn’t he?’
‘I was away at uni myself for years, so I don’t know if he hooked up with anyone when he was younger. I guess he would have. He’s a good looking bloke, only son of a big grazier. Stands to inherit the station.’
‘He’s eligible?’ Willow said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘So the women of Mount Clair were interested?’
‘I remember him dating a girl in town for a couple of months. That was a few years back now. I think she was a teacher. And yeah, I’ve heard he’s on with Sam Burrows too, but you wouldn’t think it to see them together, would you? Maybe it’s a bit of wishful thinking on her behalf.’
‘You see? He did get on with things. I doubt something that happened ten years ago would be what changed him. He probably just decided it was time to grow up, stop playing pranks and being stupid.’
‘I never thought he was immature or stupid,’ Beth said, taking a swig of her wine. ‘I thought he was really funny, actually.’
That wasn’t what Willow had been trying to say but she didn’t know how to explain it properly. The conversation had wrung her out emotionally. She made a show of yawning and got to her feet.
‘Okay, well, I’m knackered. See you at breakfast, Beth.’
In the morning she phoned Quintilla to speak to the kitchen. She wanted to get the organic food supplier list from Samantha, preferably without speaking to Tom. Cathy Forrest informed her that she hadn’t seen Samantha and she must still be in bed.
‘I haven’t seen her or Tom this morning,’ she added, and Willow wondered if a point was being made.
‘No problem,’ she said. ‘I’ll try later.’
She worked on her business plan for an hour. It was almost ready to share with Hegney. Then she went to see Jean.
‘I was thinking we could cut up the rest of the roast pork for sausage rolls,’ she said, wanting to get the idea of minimum waste into Jean’s head as quickly as possible. ‘I’ve found a great recipe. Loads of veggies, really healthy. Well,’ she said with a laugh, ‘as healthy as sausage rolls can be. I’d even let Dad have one of these.’
‘I was going to do pork and gravy rolls with chips for lunch today,’ Jean said. ‘Much easier. Less fiddly.’
‘Just try them. I’ll help,’ Willow found herself offering.
Ugh, why had she said that? She should be able to tell Jean what to do without jumping in to assist. But it was done now and Jean had reluctantly agreed so it looked like Willow would be stuck in the station kitchen for the morning.
There were male voices outside and when she headed back to the homestead to get changed for her morning in the kitchen, Willow saw Tom leaning on a gate, talking to Hegney. They caught sight of her and Hegney waved but Tom looked unbearably awkward. It surprised her to her to see him at Patersons again so soon. She approached, feeling a little cautious. It struck her again how big Tom had become. Standing beside a lean guy like Hegney just emphasised Tom’s powerful body and for a moment Willow didn’t know where to put her eyes. He really could do better than Samantha Burrows.
‘Morning,’ he said hurriedly when she was within earshot. ‘Mum left her favourite pavlova dish here last night and wanted me to come fetch it for her.’
‘Oh, right. Did you find it?’
‘I couldn’t see anyone in the house so I came outside to wait.’
‘I’ll get it for you.’
Hegney walked with them, saying he needed something in the office, but instead came inside to make a coffee in the house kitchen. Willow was taken aback. She’d assumed he would use the station kitchen like all the other staff. Beth was at the table for a late breakfast, munching toast with their father.
‘Wholegrain,’ she said quickly when Willow frowned at the toast. ‘With cholesterol-reducing margarine.’
‘Butter’s much better for me than this plastic shit,’ was Barry’s sour remark. He brightened when he saw Tom. ‘How you goin’, young Forrest? Back again. You can’t get enough of us, or what?’
Looking embarrassed all over again, Tom explained his mission as Willow located the pavlova dish. It occurred to her that Cathy Forrest must have seen Tom this morning, if she’d sent him on this errand. Had she wanted Willow to know Tom was sharing a bed with Samantha? Her heart sank as she realised why – because she’d hurt Tom. Because Cathy disliked her now and probably didn’t want her getting any ideas about her son.
By now Tom was chatting to Barry about beef prices and when she handed the dish over, he absently said, ‘Thanks, Banjo.’
As soon as the words were out, he froze. He caught her eye, colour rushing to his cheeks.
Hegney spluttered into his coffee. ‘Banjo! Is that your nickname?’
‘Banjo!’ Barry had caught on now. ‘I haven’t heard that one for a few years.’
Willow looked back at Tom. He was still flushed but otherwise composed. ‘Old habits,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Thanks, Willow. See you all later.’
No one moved to see him off so Willow followed him outside. Robin had taught them that seeing people off was just what they did at Paterson Downs.
‘Hey,’ she called. He slowed but didn’t turn. He put the dish into his car. ‘I meant it last night, about donating that pig. That was really good of you.’
‘Patersons would do the same for Quintilla,’ he said and climbed in.
‘Hopefully it won’t come to that,’ she said with a laugh, stopping beside the open car door. ‘Our beef’s hardly up to Quintilla’s standards. I’d love to see your supplier list,’ she added. ‘I was hoping to get hold of Samantha this morning to ask her about it but she was still in bed, your mum thought.’
He cocked his head and she detected a tightening of his jaw. He’d turned into a damn good-looking guy, she reflected. But the blue eyes on hers were hard and cold.
‘You phoned to get hold of Sam?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she faltered. ‘I need as much help as I can get with making changes. Dad’s kept most things pretty status-quo around here. We’re really starting from scratch.’
He turned the key in the ignition and pulled the door shut. She thought he would wind down the window and say something else to her: offer to send their supplier list or to pass on the message to Samantha, even a goodbye. Anything. But he drove off without sparing her another glance. Willow stared after his car, stunned.
A moment later she stomped inside. Dumbarse, she scowled inwardly. What a jerk he’d turned out to be. She had a stab of guilt when she thought about Beth’s words from the night before. Tom changed, you know. As she pulled off her jeans and shrugged into an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts that could get wrecked with meat juices in Jean’s kitchen, Willow caught sight of her handbag.
The letters.
Maybe there was something in them that could explain Tom’s weirdness, the radical change in him? She remembered that rising panic as she tried to read them on the plane and experienced a pang of doubt. No. She could do this. She had to. It was time to put this crap to rest. She made up her mind to finish reading the letters that night before she went to sleep, whether they caused her distress or not. She owed it to herself – and to him – to find out what had happened to her old friend.
June 20
Dear Banjo,
I’m going to pretend I’m not feeling like the biggest loser on the face of the planet for writing letters to someone who won’t even acknowledge I exist. Instead, I’m going to ask if we can get together when you come home for mid-year break in July. I was thinking I could take King and you could bring Tuffie and we’ll meet at the eastern gate and have a bloody long ride together and talk,
or not talk, whatever it takes to just put this bust-up behind us.
What do you say? I checked with your dad and he said you’ll be home from the 9th of July through to the 23rd. How about Tuesday the 12th at ten a.m.? Let me know if you can make it. Or don’t. I don’t care if you let me know or not. Just be there on the day and let’s patch this up, yeah?
Tom
July 25
Dear Banjo,
Well, that hurt. It was humiliating, too. King and I rode up and down the fenceline at the eastern gate for two hours before I gave up and went home. You made me feel stupid, pathetic and you also pissed me off. The trifecta.
Know what I loved about you? Yes, love. I’m getting less apologetic with every week that passes. You’re rejecting me anyway so why should I try to hide it any more?
So you know what I loved about you?
Your compassion. I fell for the girl next door because she was smart, beautiful and funny; incredible in every way; energetic and driven; and because it just felt right. Banjo-and-me felt right. But more than anything else, what made me love you – helplessly, hopelessly, pointlessly – was your compassion.
Remember that day, maybe eight years back now, when that stupid parrot flew into your kitchen window and you tried to save it but it died and then you cried and made your mum put a bunch of stickers on the window so it would never happen again?
And remember, Banjo, about three years ago when we were at the eastern gate and I was telling you about how Dad had announced he was taking me out of school to go on my first big muster and you were frowning off into the distance and I thought you were jealous because you hadn’t been allowed to go on a big muster before. But actually you had spotted a kangaroo caught in the fence wire. You suddenly said, ‘Come on!’ and jumped on Rusty and rode like a demon while I tried to catch up to you on Tonka. And when I finally got there you were standing there staring at the big red roo with its leg almost severed by the wire. Its eyes were rolling and its mouth was foaming and it was so close to death. I looked at you and I saw the pain and sadness in your face and I wanted to comfort you somehow, but you just said, ‘Warn me if he’s going to turn.’ And then you went up to it slowly while I was absolutely shitting myself, thinking it would kick you in the ribs or claw open your chest or whatever, and you knelt down beside it and gently took its head in your hands and broke its neck. I was so stunned, so full of respect for you in that moment, I couldn’t speak. It died instantly and you had tears running down your cheeks, and I helped you untangle its mangled leg from the wire and I honestly thought you were the bravest person I knew.