Charlotte's Creek

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Charlotte's Creek Page 28

by Therese Creed


  Then Adam was calling to her through the open door from the bar. ‘Hey, Lucy, don’t let him monopolise you. We need a guvvie in here, things are getting out of hand!’

  Lucy exchanged a glance with Piers. Adam’s words were beginning to slur and he sounded a little too jovial. She checked her watch and exclaimed in surprise; it was after seven o’clock. She supposed Adam had good lights on his chopper, but she didn’t much fancy a flight with a tipsy pilot. She led the way back into the bar.

  ‘Adam.’ Lucy tugged at his sleeve. ‘Should we be thinking of going soon?’

  ‘Going? Where?’ He straightened up and raised his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Upstairs already? Whoa, you’re a keen little thing.’

  Lucy tried again. ‘Adam, shouldn’t we . . . I mean, can you fly when you’ve been—’

  ‘You worry too much, Lady Lucy.’ Adam looked fondly into her eyes and stroked her shoulder with his finger. ‘You’re in good hands. Only the best for you.’

  Perplexed, Lucy sat listening to the men’s chatter for a while longer, then decided to go and say hello to Bri and Tash. To her surprise, they smiled at her in welcome, and invited her to join them. When she sat down, they began firing questions at her about Adam.

  Piers came over and put two beers down in front of Lucy; when she looked at him askance, he inclined his head towards one of the fluorescent-shirted men smiling at her from a stool at the end of the bar. Lucy gave the mystery gentleman a polite wave and turned back to the two jillaroos. Now that she was ‘with’ Adam, it seemed she had suddenly become worthy of their interest, and they took no notice of her assurances that it was purely friendship.

  ‘Should Adam be drinking when he’s flying home tonight?’ Lucy asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.

  Bri chortled. ‘Who said anything about flying home?’ She pushed her chair out and headed for the bar, adding over her shoulder, ‘Never seen him do that after a night out.’

  Tash laughed too, then noticed Lucy’s expression. ‘You can’t have been thinking he was gonna take you home tonight? Hell, darl, you won’t be going anywhere till tomorrow arv at the earliest!’

  Bri returned with three more beers and slid one along to join the two unconsumed ones already sitting in front of Lucy. ‘Get into it, girl!’

  ‘But I don’t want to stay . . .’ Lucy said in alarm. ‘I mean, I didn’t bring any stuff!’

  ‘Settle down,’ Tash scolded. ‘You’re the chosen one tonight, jeez! I’ll trade places with you, no worries. Don’t think Hoodlum would be too stoked, but.’

  Bri snorted with laughter, spraying some of her beer onto the table. She gulped, then leaned in towards Lucy. ‘Yeah, he really likes you, Lucy. I reckon he’s for real this time. That’s what everyone’s saying, anyway.’ Tash nodded, and Bri went on, ‘Stars in his eyes. Never seen Hoodlum like that about anyone.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Lucy had no intention of being sucked in.

  ‘You think we’re taking the mickey out of you?’ said Tash. ‘Hoodlum told Bevan he’s gonna fly you out to meet his mum. Now if that’s not bloody serious I dunno what is.’

  ‘Well, I just want to go back to Charlotte’s Creek,’ Lucy said distractedly. ‘Where are you two going after this?’

  ‘We’re working tomorrow, mate,’ Bri said. ‘Up the road at Black Rock. Needed to be there a few hours ago.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lucy sighed. Spotting the vintage phone booth in the hall, she had a childish impulse to ring her father, but she quelled it.

  A moment later a familiar dishevelled form filled the doorway.

  ‘Oi, Stumpy!’ Bri yelled in greeting. There was a unanimous cheer as all present spotted the new arrival.

  ‘G’day all!’ Stumpy held up his maimed hand in salute. ‘What’s the story here? Bugger it! Was looking for a quiet beer! Never seen the place so packed. Must be double figures here tonight, eh, Piers?’

  ‘Come and wet your whistle, Stump,’ Piers replied. ‘Where’re you coming in from? Mount Surprise?’

  ‘Yep, took the shortcut along the Caterpillars.’ Stumpy stretched up his arms and straightened his back. ‘Gets bloody rougher every time.’

  ‘You’re just getting more stuffed, that’s all,’ grinned the white-haired publican.

  ‘Yeah, too true,’ Stumpy chuckled.

  Lucy hurriedly blinked away the tears of relief that had sprung up in her eyes on sight of the friendly figure. Stumpy probably wouldn’t even notice her, she told herself, or remember her if he did.

  But Stumpy picked up his beer from the bar and wandered over to their table. ‘G’day, sweetheart,’ he said to Lucy. ‘Fancy meeting the likes of you here.’

  ‘Hello Stumpy.’ Lucy said, trying her best to sound bright.

  ‘You still trying to look cranky, love? Jeez, with all those beers I’d a thought you could’ve managed a little smile.’

  Lucy smiled weakly up at him.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ he went on. ‘We can be cranky together.’ He pulled over a chair and perched beside Lucy. She pushed two of her beers across in front of him. ‘Thank you kindly.’ He picked one up, and raised his two glasses at the jillaroos across the table, but the girls were now deep in conversation and ignored him.

  Stumpy took a long sip from one glass, sighed in satisfaction and regarded Lucy. ‘Ah, Lucy,’ he said. ‘By golly, that’s a pretty name.’ The corners of his eyes wrinkled in a gentle grin. ‘Who’d you come here with, then?’

  ‘Adam.’

  ‘Hoodlum? . . . And you?’ Stumpy leaned back in his seat, looking impressed. He issued a low wolf whistle and waggled his eyebrows at Lucy. Despite her mood, she couldn’t help laughing; he looked so comical. She gave him a shove. ‘No wonder you’re looking so cheerful then, eh,’ Stumpy said.

  Lucy looked down at her flat beer, and Stumpy mercifully changed the subject. They chatted about Pagan, the weaners and Ted, and she soon began to feel better.

  Then Stumpy put his hands on his knees and stretched his back again. ‘Anyway, love, past my bedtime. I’d better say cheerio and keep going.’ He eased himself off his seat. In a sudden panic, Lucy grabbed his arm without thinking. He stopped in surprise. She released him again and, not knowing what to say, looked up at him imploringly.

  ‘You said you came here with Hoodlum, eh?’

  Lucy nodded miserably.

  ‘So how come you’re not looking like someone who just got lucky?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t realise . . . I just thought . . .’

  ‘Struth.’ Realisation dawned on Stumpy’s face. After considering for a moment, he went on, ‘You could always tag along with old Stump if the date’s not all it was cracked up to be. Might be going from the frying pan into the fire, but.’

  Lucy replied immediately, ‘I think I’d rather the fire, please.’

  ‘Crikey!’ Stumpy waggled his eyebrows again. ‘And here was I thinking I was just coming in for a quiet beer! Roll over, Hoodlum! Just give me a minute, I’ll probably have to go and fight him for you.’ He clenched his right fist and punched his other palm. ‘Bit rusty, haven’t been getting a lot of practice lately.’

  Lucy stood up. ‘No, it’s all right, Stumpy. I’ll go and explain.’

  ‘Well, I’ll tidy up this beer, since you won’t be wanting it. Would be a crime to let it go to waste.’

  Chapter 32

  ‘So you’d trust some bloody old swaggy but you don’t trust me?’ Adam had followed Lucy outside. He wasn’t taking the change of plan kindly. ‘Do you even know that old bastard Stumpy?’

  ‘Adam, listen—’

  ‘I reckon I’ve missed something here.’ He shook his head in confusion. ‘What did I do wrong?’

  ‘Adam, I’m sorry, but I didn’t realise you were bringing me somewhere for the night. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.’ Lucy’s last few words faded under Adam’s frown.

  ‘C’mon, Lucy.’ His tone was cynical now. ‘You’re not gonna fool me with this bloody caper. You can’t expect
me to believe you couldn’t see this coming. Are you one of these bitches that gets a kick outta stringing a bloke along?’

  Lucy noted Adam’s alcohol-induced reversion to the local vernacular. His usual suave manner was slipping. She was furious with herself for her lack of foresight. He was right, she should have known how it would be, and never let it come to this. ‘I’m so sorry Adam. I never meant to offend you.’

  ‘So I just gotta go back in there on my own then?’ He was glaring at her now. ‘That’s it then, is it?’

  ‘Adam, please . . .’ She reached out and touched him on the arm and his expression softened.

  When he spoke again his voice was full of quiet hurt. ‘Righto, so I’ve stuffed up big time. Should’ve known you’d be different. I shouldn’t have rushed you. But Lucy, this isn’t just another fling for me.’ Adam paused and looked hard at Lucy’s face. ‘You’re the first girl I’ve ever met who I’ve wanted to take home to Mum.’

  ‘Oh, Adam . . .’ Lucy looked down wretchedly, scrabbling for the right words. ‘Thank you, honestly, but I—’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ he cut in. ‘I won’t stand here making a dick of myself any longer. See you round.’ He stalked off, leaving Lucy shocked by the bitterness in his voice.

  ‘You never asked me where I’d be taking you.’ Stumpy took his eyes off the rutted dirt road for a moment to look across at Lucy in the dark smoke-scented cabin of the small stock truck. They had already narrowly missed several large kangaroos that had loomed up suddenly in the dazzling brightness of the high beams.

  ‘Bit too trusting for a bird, I reckon,’ Stumpy continued. ‘Be getting yourself into trouble all over the place if you carry on like that.’ He slowed and swerved around a pitted section of road. ‘What if I tell you you’re gonna have to bunk in with me, both of us cuddled up in me swag?’

  Lucy looked at him, not concerned in the slightest.

  ‘I’m trying to frighten you, can’t you see?’ He glowered across at her.

  ‘So where are we going, then?’ Lucy asked calmly.

  ‘Not far.’ His normal genial expression returned. ‘You’ll see. The folks you’re about to meet will be more to your taste than old Stump. And tomorrow you can help me pick out a coupla new horses.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely!’ The woman greeted Lucy at the door with open arms. ‘We’ve been so wanting to meet the new Charlotte’s Creek governess!’

  Lucy immediately liked Beth McCann, Lackey’s mother. She had warm brown eyes, soft features and a long grey plait.

  ‘Ian and I were away when you came to Star Fields last time,’ Beth went on, ‘and Diane was so full of praise for you!’

  There were no queries as to why Lucy was arriving from the west with Stumpy, only hot chocolate and fruitcake. Lucy found herself chatting easily with Beth and Ian McCann, while Stumpy dozed in a lounge chair. When it got late, Beth showed her to the little spare room where she would be staying for the night. It was elaborately decorated, with frills and trinkets at every turn. Lucy stopped just inside the doorway, a little overwhelmed by all the pinkness after the functional solid plainness of the rest of the house. And after her anxious evening in the dusty, beer-smelling pub, the contrast was almost too much.

  ‘This room is my one indulgence,’ Beth explained, almost apologetically, her voice lowered. ‘Apart from me, there have been only men in this house for a very long time. We didn’t have any daughters.’ She gazed around wistfully. ‘I suppose you could call it my haven.’ She took from the wardrobe an extremely fluffy pink towel and placed it on the white and mauve patchwork quilt, next to a lacy cushion.

  ‘Did you make this?’ Lucy asked, stroking the colourful bedspread.

  ‘With a lot of help from Gwen.’

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ Lucy murmured. As Beth turned to go, she added, ‘Thank you for letting me use this beautiful room.’

  ‘That’s my pleasure, darling.’ Beth beamed and gave Lucy an impulsive kiss on the cheek before departing.

  The next day, Lucy had a fascinating time watching Rowdy freeze-branding the young stockhorses with Stumpy. The iron brands were sitting in an insulated cylinder of liquid nitrogen, and as Stumpy moved each yearling horse up into the vet crush, Rowdy gently pressed the iron onto its shoulder. Each horse shifted around a little during the procedure, but the well-handled animals showed little distress.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Lucy asked Stumpy when Rowdy had gone to bring in a new group of yearlings.

  ‘Nah, not much.’ Stumpy took a length of thick fencing wire and placed it in the nitrogen with the brands. Lucy watched silently, wondering what it was for. A few moments later, he retrieved it and without hesitation pressed the freezing end of it onto a sunspot on his arm.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lucy cried in alarm.

  But Stumpy only grinned and proceeded to do the same to several other crusty blemishes on his skin. When he’d finished, he hung the wire out of the way and winked at Lucy. ‘A doctor in Townsville did that for me once. Charged me eighty bucks for one measly little spot. Bloody shark. Done it meself ever since.’

  After the branding, it was time for Stumpy to examine a line-up of young green-broke horses that Rowdy had prepared for him to select from for his droving plant. As he explained to Lucy, the McCann stockhorses were as good as any in the country. Lucy walked beside the old drover as he scrutinised each magnificent animal, picking up their feet and running the fingers of his good hand along their spines.

  ‘Bloody good types,’ Stumpy said approvingly. ‘Most consistent lot yet, I’d reckon.’

  Rowdy coloured with pleasure.

  ‘What’s the story with this fella?’ Stumpy had stopped beside a large dark grey gelding and was fingering a nasty abrasion on its girth line.

  ‘S-sensitive skin,’ Rowdy confessed with a stutter. ‘The bugger galls real easy. Damn shame, ’cause he’s probably the pick of them otherwise. I bought s-some you-beaut ointment last week.’

  ‘Stuff that,’ Stumpy advised. ‘Get your old fella out and piss on that there gall. Best thing for it. Same thing for tinea. Can’t see the sense in stopping in town for some pricey ointment when you can make the best cure yourself. On tap, sterile, pre-warmed, the lot.’

  Rowdy chuckled and Lucy wrinkled her nose.

  After lunch, Lucy sat out on the veranda and had a cup of tea with Beth, while the men went over to the yards to watch Stumpy put his new horses through their paces. Beth asked after Mel and baby Henry.

  ‘She’s very tired,’ Lucy said. ‘But she’s coping quite well.’

  ‘I suspect that’s largely due to your being there,’ Beth observed quietly. ‘That poor girl, I’ve always felt for her.’

  Lucy nodded, looking hard at Beth’s face, wondering how much she knew of the West family situation. ‘I’m glad I don’t have to try to run a business with my family,’ she said, then added quickly, ‘Lackey and Diane seem very happy, though.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Beth smiled. ‘We sorted out our succession a few years ago now. But I’ll admit things were a bit tense for quite a while leading up to that. We got a lady in to help us. As much as Ian disliked the idea at first, he realised later that we couldn’t have done it without her.’

  ‘A mediator?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Yes, of a sort. They’re called “succession facilitators”.’

  ‘Oh, what a great idea!’

  ‘In the end, all of our problems came down to bad communication and misunderstandings,’ Beth continued. ‘The kids needed to know what we were planning. No point keeping people in the dark.’

  ‘So everything improved after the facilitator?’ Lucy prompted.

  ‘It took a while to sort out, but we eventually reached a compromise we were all happy with.’

  ‘How wonderful that you’ve managed to work it out peaceably,’ Lucy said, impressed. ‘I wish more people could do it.’

  Beth spoke softly and with great dignity. ‘I suppose you’re thinking of the situation there at Charlotte’s
Creek. We are aware of it. But Lucy, there are two sides to every story, and so many different variables. It’s not always as straightforward as ours was.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Lucy agreed. ‘The dynamics of every family are different.’

  ‘In our case, everyone was upfront and honest,’ Beth said. ‘Underneath the conflict we had a strong family bond to carry us through, and a true respect for one another. We were all prepared to compromise and sacrifice something.’

  Lucy nodded slowly.

  ‘It only takes one or two family members to unravel the whole process,’ Beth went on. ‘Ian’s brother up in the Gulf recently handed his place over to his son. They had to take on a large debt to pay out the sisters and brother, but they were managing. But now the daughter-in-law wants a divorce. They can’t afford to pay her out without selling up. Ian’s very upset about it.’

  ‘That’s terrible!’ Lucy exclaimed.

  ‘And my home property, where I grew up near Roma, is probably going to be sold later this year,’ Beth continued. ‘My brother inherited it from our parents, and he was always very frugal, but now his daughter and her husband run it and have made some very bad decisions. They had to have a flash new house and car, and the old machinery wasn’t good enough. It broke my brother’s heart to see them wasting money when he was always so careful.’

  ‘How awful!’ Lucy murmured sympathetically.

  ‘So you see it’s very hard to judge. It is difficult to let go when you have put your whole heart into a place. It’s hard to make the transition and take a step back when you’ve always been the decision-maker and the director. You can remember changing his nappy not so long ago, and now you have to take orders from him.’ Beth laughed softly to herself.

  ‘I think I’m beginning to understand,’ Lucy said.

  ‘Many people in our generation had to wait their turn,’ Beth said. ‘Ian was fifty-eight before his father handed anything over to him. We only had a few years of autonomy before our own kids were chomping at the bit. Someone has to make a sacrifice and there has to be some give and take. The kids need to know from an early age what’s going to happen so there are no assumptions, and to give them time to go off and do something else if they want to.’

 

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