Season of Shadow and Light

by Jenn J. McLeod

  ‘I just don’t see what’s wrong with me asking a few questions. Banjo has been around a long time.’

  ‘Paige . . . Please.’ Alice dropped the peanut butter container on the bench, grabbed the loaf of bread and dropped two slices in the toaster, pausing momentarily before slipping back into normal Alice mode. ‘I’m making more toast. Will you have some? Mati’s gone to ask Sharni if we can borrow more butter.’

  Paige shook her head. What she needed was a walk. If she didn’t get moving her body might seize up completely. Was she that out of condition, or had rescuing cows from swollen creeks been the limit to her endurance?

  ‘I’ve lost my appetite,’ she said, noticing the tremor in that last and purposely loud sigh of Alice’s. She softened. ‘Alice, I won’t ask around if you don’t want me to, but I wish I understood.’

  ‘Do I really need to spell it out for you, Paige? It’s been many years since I’ve had to explain my role in your life. Asking around town after your mother will only have people looking at me and wondering who I might be to you and Mati. And you want to achieve this for what reason? That photo must be over forty years old. But, if you are so determined, at least ask around in Saddleton, not here where I’ll have to endure stares and whispers. If you want me to agree to this change of plans and stay in this town then surely you will allow me this one request.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Paige waved her hands in a show of surrender. ‘I won’t ask here in town, Alice, but only if you agree I have a good reason for not going back to Robert yet. Not until I’ve had time to think things through.’

  Ten hours ago, after tucking Mati into bed, Paige had confessed to Alice the real reason she wanted to get away for a while. Poor Alice. Even in the dim light of the bedside lamp, Paige had seen the mix of shock and disappointment as she replayed parts of the telephone conversation with Meghan, and about Robert and Rudolph.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before, Paige?’ she’d asked in a whisper.

  ‘I didn’t tell you because . . . Because I was ashamed and angry.’ And you would have made me stay home and work things out. ‘I wanted to get away and work though my feelings in my own way and time.’

  Alice perched on the edge of the single bed in the small room Paige occupied, whispering in case they woke Mati, asleep on the sofa. ‘How did this woman, Meghan, find out?’ She stroked Paige’s hair, flattening it like she’d done when Paige was young, the same way Paige now did with her own daughter.

  ‘The details don’t matter. He said it was only the once and that he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.’

  ‘So drunk he drove to a hotel after—’

  ‘After screwing Rudolph. I know. Spare me the visuals, Alice. I’ve been managing those all by myself, knowing they’ll ruin every Christmas and every rendition of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer for years to come.’

  ‘And she works with him?’

  ‘Receptionist. There are two on the desk. Both blonde. Lauren and Meeee-schell,’ Paige said, sarcastically. ‘To be honest, I’m trying to not visualise her.’ Paige snuggled deeper under the covers, relishing Alice’s touch until she fell asleep.

  Touch—one of the most important sensations—had become yet another of her sensory deficiencies since the stroke. Parts of her face, arm and left thigh remained dull to touch even now. Mati had accidently jabbed her in the leg with a fork a couple of weeks ago. At the time all she’d felt was a blunt poke of a finger. Not until Alice noticed spots of blood speckling the beige cargo pants had anyone realised.

  Paige nibbled on the extra piece of peanut butter toast Alice had slipped in front of her anyway, not really wanting it and not tasting it, yet relishing the gooey coating on the roof of her mouth and wondering if peanut butter had the power to soothe over-worked muscles.

  ‘Look, Alice, for whatever the reason, we’re here and I like the place. Should the roads reopen, even as soon as tomorrow, I won’t want to go back to Sydney. Not yet. And after last night you should understand. Forgetting any other reason, Mati is going to experience two weeks in the country. Do I wish I’d taken your advice and booked a five-star resort with a pool somewhere? In a way, yes. Was this road trip idea really about reconnecting with my mother? Not really. I was curious, but the photograph was more about a convenient excuse to take time out from Robert. Saddleton is a big place these days—too big to even know where to start looking or asking. And you’re right about forty-odd years being too long ago for locals to hold any memories of my mother, especially if, as you once suggested, her time in the country was as brief as a holiday riding camp.’ Dishes clunked so loudly in the sink where Alice was busying herself rinsing and stacking that Paige had to raise her voice. ‘If, in fact, it was even the town of Saddleton.’ Surprised that Alice didn’t ask her to explain, she decided to continue. ‘Seems the townsfolk can’t make up their mind if it’s Saddleton or Saddletown. Maybe you were right when you said the sign in the picture was the name of a farm stay somewhere, or even an old Sydney riding school.’

  ‘I did mention many parts of Sydney had rural pockets, market gardens, stud farms, even cattle sales once—and not so many years ago that I can’t remember going to an Oxford Falls riding school on numerous occasions.’

  ‘And I’ve dragged you out here when you could be lounging by a pool. Blame Google.’

  ‘There’s no blaming anyone except that husband of yours. If you hadn’t needed to get away for a bit . . . Anyway, something good has come from all this. You got that off your chest last night and I can at least be a better support.’

  ‘I know you’re always there for me and I love you for it, but sometimes I have to do things by myself. I’m not little Paige anymore.’

  ‘I know that, too.’ Alice mellowed. ‘Sorry I snapped.’

  Alice’s mood seemed to shift and the lines that had sculpted a frown in her forehead moments ago vanished. Perhaps she’d been worried and hadn’t known why. Alice had always been perceptive, always watching and ready to head off the hurtfulness that tried to taint their perfect world. The perpetrators? Those who didn’t understand, or didn’t want to understand alternative lifestyles. Despite efforts to shield their daughter from the ugliness of intolerance, Paige had witnessed the worst in people. She should be used to disappointment.

  ‘I did get us lost, though. Now we’re stuck here.’

  ‘Indeed we are stuck, for the time being,’ Alice said, fanning her face with a Sudoku magazine to stave off a menopausal flush tinging her face pink. ‘Not all is lost. Sharni offered a few supplies, on the proviso I save her some scones.’

  ‘You’re baking?’

  ‘As soon as Mati gets back with more butter. You know my granddaughter and I enjoy at least one baking day a week. Routine, Paige, remember?’

  ‘Right. Yes.’

  Or rut.

  ‘Once they reopen the road,’ Alice continued, measuring a cup of flour and peeling the lid off the long-life milk carton she’d brought along, ‘we can head somewhere else. Somewhere with a beach and a breeze. Byron Bay might be nice. We can try out some of those quaint little cafés. Remember that feature article you did once on the spice place and—’ Alice stopped herself and grimaced in silent self-reproach. ‘I’m sorry, love.’

  ‘Hey, so I can’t smell the spices any more. It’s true what they say about eating with your eyes, and if I can’t remember the taste, my imagination takes care of the rest.’ Robert will tell you that much. Paige licked pretend peanut butter fingers, ending with an exaggerated smack of her lips. ‘See? Yum!’

  ‘You did inherit your mother’s sense of romanticism.’ With that, Alice walked over and tucked a strand of hair behind Paige’s ear as if she was still seven.

  Paige reached up and grasped her hand. ‘And your strength, Alice. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget you are the only reliable thing in my life—you and Mati. I can always trust you to put up with my ridiculousness and make things right in the end. You would never let me down.’


  Alice’s smile seemed to take a while to show, even then her lips quivered into a kind of thin grin. ‘I think I’ll have more tea.’

  ‘You do that.’ Paige pecked Alice’s hand before releasing it. ‘I really need to move. I’ll be back shortly.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I told you. I need to walk. I also need to call Robert and the reception isn’t good. I need to be outside, closer to the main house. I can check on Matilda at the same time.’

  ‘I did watch as she went up the hill. I saw her go into the house.’ The defensiveness in Alice’s voice surprised Paige. ‘I wouldn’t just let her—’

  ‘Hey, it’s all right, Alice, I know I can always trust you to do the right thing when it comes to protecting Mati.’ Paige pecked Alice on the cheek. ‘I just meant I can check she’s not making a nuisance of herself with Sharni and Liam. I’m looking forward to taste-testing those scones.’

  12

  Sharni had taken the bay horse and Aiden’s stallion to a paddock at the bottom of the property. With the rain having subsided overnight, and the threat of flooding along with it, the lower paddock looked to be a safe grazing option, a feast for a horse. Sadly, the old horse in the tatty tartan coat remained alone, nearest the house, head hanging, tail twitching the odd pesky fly.

  ‘Poor thing.’

  Talking to Robert could wait. Paige slipped the phone into the front pocket of her jeans, watching the horse from the veranda. Sharni had already warned the horse was not friendly. Not even food had coerced the old mare over that first day.

  ‘Stuck in her ways,’ Sharni had explained at the time. ‘Reckon I would be, too, at her age. Not sure about her quality of life. I do what I can, but horses like her . . . They’re biding their time. Not sure why they hang on or what this one’s waiting for. Sadly, there are some things about these gorgeous creatures we will never know.’

  ‘She must be lonely.’

  ‘And yet there’s no budging her away from her corner. Let me show you.’ Sharni had dug her hand into a blue plastic tub she’d prepared for the other horses and tried enticing the mare closer. The horse barely lifted her head and Paige’s neck ached watching the way it drooped, like it was too heavy to hold any higher.

  ‘She seems content with the grass.’

  ‘I’m thinking it’s more about being deaf and blind. She could even have taste and olfactory deficits for all I know. It happens.’

  ‘Really?’

  Sharni nodded, pushing one horse out of the way, leading it to a separate bucket of food. ‘The vet checked her over a while back, but since then she’s got even more standoffish. I figure it’s best to let her live life out in peace and hope someone does the same for me one day. If somebody tried to move me or force feed me when I was that old I’d spit in their face.’ Sharni laughed and hoisted herself over the paddock fence with grace and agility. The move impressed Paige, but frightened a family of nervous rosellas ground-feeding among the grasses when she landed heavily on her one good leg. ‘She’ll tell me if she needs anything. Liam knows not to get too close, but make sure Matilda stays away in case the old girl’s having a crotchety day.’

  ‘Will do,’ Paige had confirmed at the time.

  Paige was the crotchety one today. The thought of talking to her husband was not helping, but as she checked the phone’s reception and saw a strong signal in her spot by the veranda of the main house Paige decided to get the conversation over with. She dialled home, knowing he’d most likely be at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, his nose in the newspaper.

  He sounded terse when he answered.

  Was everyone planning on being cranky today?

  When Paige told him of Matilda’s excitement over everything country, especially cows and her desire to be a vegie-train like Liam, Robert’s tone of enquiry shifted to soft, his voice too, reminding Paige that whatever else, Robert’s love for their daughter was never in question. Shame the same couldn’t be said about his love for his wife.

  ‘Have you ever been happy in our marriage, Robert?’ she asked out of the blue, mid-way through the call, her voice steady.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your parents . . . They didn’t approve of me, yet we married anyway. Was I some symbol of your rebellion back then? Is that why we got together?’

  ‘You know it wasn’t you they didn’t approve of. It was your . . . family situation.’

  ‘Family situation? Is that what you’re still calling it after all our years together?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Paige, why are we even having this conversation? I can’t help who my parents are, or their beliefs. You know they’re old fashioned and favour traditional values. Let’s not even go there. Look, you want honest? Here’s honest. I’d much rather have this conversation face to face, but you’ve chosen this ridiculous country escapade. I don’t know who you are any more, Paige. You aren’t the girl I married.’

  Paige surveyed the scene in front of her, her gaze stopping on the white cattle egrets stalking the paddocks, long legs doing a silly goose step over equally long grasses. The morning shadows flirted with trees and the small swarm of bees buzzing around a colourful clump of red hippeastrums at the edge of the veranda blended in with the drone of her husband’s voice. She lowered her burnt out body into one of the Cape Cod lounges, wishing she’d considered how she’d get out of it again.

  ‘You’re so damn distant these days, Paige,’ Robert’s voice hissed, snatching Paige’s attention back to the phone call she was wishing she hadn’t made. She wondered where her call had caught him. Was he with someone? ‘If this is a hormone thing you need to get yourself checked out. Maybe you’ve got a thyroid condition, too.’

  ‘What?’ Anger catapulted her upright. ‘So, this is my fault? My hormones are to blame?’

  ‘You push me away all the time. The other night I wanted to—’

  ‘Oh, Robert, we’re not going to dissect the other night when you wanted to have sex.’

  ‘Sex?’ he scoffed, as if to say ‘What’s that?’ ‘No, this isn’t about having sex, as you so eloquently put it, dear wife.’

  ‘Actually, you’re wrong, dear husband. This is entirely about having sex, only not with each other. Remember Rudolph?’

  ‘Okay, okay, I deserved that,’ he said, sounding calmer. ‘I want us to be able to talk.’

  ‘So now you want to talk?’ Anger and adrenaline coalesced inside Paige’s body to make sitting in the one spot impossible; too bad if her phone lost the connection. ‘Would that be before or after you finish that newspaper article that’s got your interest?’

  ‘I’m not reading.’

  ‘Of course you are. I can hear the rustle of pages turning.’ Exasperation pushed her out of the sloping chair towards the open paddocks.

  She stopped to lean against the fence when a puff of wind whipped the lightweight white hat from her head and it tumbled over the long grass, frightening the egrets into flight.

  ‘Look, Paige . . .’

  ‘Hang on, Robert,’ she said, climbing up the three-rail fence and down the other side, her feet landing firmly, only to stumble. Her bed leg, as Mati called the leg the physio could do nothing about, was taking longer to wake up today. The tartan horse on the far side jerked its head, a neighing sound and a snort rumbling out its mouth and nose. ‘Shhh, it’s all right, girl.’

  ‘What did you say, Paige? I can’t hear you.’

  ‘Shhh.’ Paige calmly bent down to collect her hat, watching eyes as big as the moon return her stare through two round holes on the facemask.

  ‘Paige? Are you there? You’re breaking up.’

  Maybe I am, Robert!

  ‘Please, Paige, whatever you’re doing, stop. I’m trying to have a conversation. You sound miles away.’

  ‘If I’m at all distant, Robert, it’s because you’re right; I’m not the girl you married. I’ve changed. I don’t live in a haze of beach-boy-blond locks and endless summers. I grew up. Then, in case yo
u’ve forgotten, I got sick.’ She glanced back towards the horse whose stare remained fixed on the newcomer. ‘I’ve worked so hard since . . . since my illness to maintain some semblance of normality for me, and for us. I’m still young, Robert, still attractive and, like you, I ache for what we once shared. The difference is I don’t go out and get what we’re missing from somewhere or someone else, and I refuse to be put out to pasture like a lost cause because of the stroke. I’ve lost my sense of smell and taste, not my sense of right and wrong.’

  ‘Yeah, but you bloody lost your sense of humour. You’re miserable all the time and I never know what to do. When was the last time you laughed?’

  ‘Today actually,’ she mumbled, glancing over her shoulder to check the old horse was still feeding on the far side of the paddock. ‘And yesterday. I laughed a lot yesterday.’

  ‘Well, we used to laugh together once. I can’t remember the last time you made me laugh.’

  ‘You can’t remember the last time I made you laugh?’ Too exasperated—and sore—to clamber one-handed back over the fence, and searching for an opportunity to end this conversation, Paige crumpled to the ground with a huff, her legs folding underneath, her mind so preoccupied with the rant gathering force inside her head she didn’t stop to think about her forty-year-old knees that hadn’t bent that way for some time. Still, she felt nothing—not physically, nor emotionally. She sat, lowered her head into one upturned hand, letting it rock from side to side against her palm, the phone, conveying Robert’s unrelenting criticism, locked in the other hand.

  ‘I’m not responsible for your happiness,’ she finally said, with more control of her voice than she felt. ‘Happiness starts within.’

  ‘You need to listen to yourself. You’ve been miserable for so long. Ever since the magazine let you go.’

  ‘I’m not miserable I lost my job.’ She looked at the white linen hat scrunched into a frustrated ball in her fist and shook it out, slapping it unceremoniously on her head. ‘They never gave me a chance to show them I could still do my job; there’s a difference.’