‘Lucy, your job here’s done,’ Mel sighed on the evening of the second day. She was slumped exhaustedly at the table after a dinner of leftovers, while the kids polished off the last of the ice-cream from the freezer. The packing was all but complete, and the removal truck was booked to arrive in the morning. ‘I can’t ask any more of you,’ Mel added. ‘Go home to your folks.’
‘Have you got somewhere to go in Brisbane?’ Lucy broached the subject at last.
‘Motel, I suppose. I’ve looked up one of those storage joints for our stuff till we find a place to rent.’ Mel chewed the edge of her fingernail.
‘I want to stop with you in Brisbane and help,’ Lucy said with quiet firmness. ‘To see you and the kids settled.’
Mel looked at her despondently and shook her head. ‘I don’t understand you at all. You should be bloody keen to see the back of us.’
‘I’m coming to help,’ Lucy repeated stubbornly.
Mel gave a laugh that finished with the hint of a sob. ‘I should be telling you to piss off. Telling you I don’t need a nosy guvvie hanging round to laugh at my mess.’
‘It wouldn’t work.’ Lucy remained determined. ‘I’m used to your insults. I know you’ll need my help down there.’
Mel wiped her eyes and looked up with a smile. ‘Well, I wish I could tell you that you’re full of crap. But I can’t, ’cause I’m scared stiff about going to the city.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Lucy concluded. ‘I’ll ring some estate agents before we go in the morning and see if I can find you a house to rent somewhere close to the hospital.’
Once the kids were in bed, Lucy returned to the kitchen to say goodnight to Mel, who was breastfeeding a sleepy Henry. The older woman looked up. ‘Removalist’s getting here at ten.’
‘Right.’ Lucy smiled. ‘Hope you get some sleep. Just think, you’ll be with Dennis again soon.’ She turned to go.
‘Oi, Luce.’
Lucy paused at the door.
‘What about Ted?’ Mel put her head on one side.
‘What about him?’ Lucy answered flatly.
Mel looked hard at her face. ‘Nothing,’ she said, and her mouth turned down grimly. ‘G’night.’
Lucy strode across to her hut, refusing to look at the light in the window of Ted’s donga. She brushed the hot tears off her cheeks and went inside.
The following morning, after assisting the removalists, Ted helped jam into Mel’s car all that remained of the things the family were taking from Charlotte’s Creek. Then, quite suddenly, they were finished and ready to go. They all stood looking at each other awkwardly.
‘Shoot the dogs for me, will ya?’ Mel blurted, looking up at Ted. She gave him a stiff hug, and the kids followed suit, clinging to the ringer’s tall form. Dragging them off him one by one, Mel bustled them into their seats. Wordlessly she strode around to the driver’s door, opened it and climbed in. Then they were gone, leaving Lucy and Ted standing in the cloud of dust next to Lucy’s car.
‘I have to follow Mel,’ Lucy said blankly, looking up at Ted.
‘Hooray then,’ Ted muttered. He took a small step towards her. ‘Good luck, eh . . . with everything.’
‘Will I be hearing from you, Ted?’ Lucy felt numb, and her voice sounded as though it was coming from a long way away.
‘Do you wanna hear from me?’ he asked.
‘Not if it’s going to be like this,’ Lucy replied.
‘Like what?’
Lucy studied his face. If his question was serious, then that was it, her decision was made. He shrank a little under her gaze and seemed to read the ultimatum in it.
His voice had an unusual note of urgency when he spoke again. ‘Lucy . . . I’m not the most trusting of buggers. I’ve had a bit of trouble getting my head around all this.’
‘You mean that you’re “afraid to commit”?’ Her voice was steely.
He shook his head in agitation. ‘You’re getting it all wrong now, putting words in my mouth.’ He began to pace up and down.
Lucy’s severe expression slipped and tears began to slide down her cheeks. ‘What choice have I got when you won’t speak?’ she sobbed.
‘Jeez, Lucy, please don’t cry.’ Ted clenched his fists in dismay. ‘It’s just that I’m struggling to believe that a girl like you could really want a fella like me . . . for the long term. I guess I been waiting for the novelty to wear off.’ He stopped pacing and took her little hands in his huge ones. ‘It’s not that I don’t want you—bloody hell, as if I don’t know how lucky I am that you even looked twice at me.’
Lucy looked up, searching his face through the haze of tears.
He went on, ‘I suppose I’m just gutless, too afraid of being cut up when you get sick of it all and shoot through.’
‘If I was going to give up on you, don’t you think I would have done it already?’ Lucy sniffed. ‘You’ve certainly done your best to shake me off.’
To her astonishment, Ted’s eyes were full of tears now too, something she’d never thought to see. ‘I’ve got nothing to offer a girl like you—just a little rough block stocked with scrubbers, a long way from town. Heck, I don’t even have a half-decent house.’
‘You forget, I’ve been to your place,’ Lucy said, suddenly hopeful.
‘You really reckon you could hack it?’ Ted frowned. ‘Roughing it like that after what you’re used to?’
‘I can’t wait to hack it!’ Lucy squeezed Ted’s fingers. ‘I’m not as soft as you seem to think.’
Ted regarded her face for a minute as though considering her words. ‘Yeah, maybe.’ His tone was dubious. ‘For a few years.’ He blinked away his tears and straightened up. He gently released her hands before going on. ‘But I’ve seen what happened to Mel, and even my mum. Always saw it from Dad’s point of view before now.’
‘So you’re convinced it could never work, then?’ Lucy fought to keep the tremor out of her voice.
‘Well, I’ve told Stumpy I’ll be back out on the track with him again directly,’ Ted said quietly, looking away from Lucy and off into the distance. ‘And I’ve spoken to the agent. I’m selling Little Leichhardt. It’s going with this place.’ He waved his hand around.
Lucy was shocked. ‘You didn’t think to talk to me about it first?’
‘No, mate.’ Ted’s light-brown eyes were pleading as he looked into hers. ‘It’s the best way. You’ll thank me in six months’ time when you’re back where you belong and thinking straight. Lucky escape, I reckon.’
Lucy felt a sinking sensation. She put her hand out and steadied herself on the car, turning away. ‘Goodbye then, Ted.’
And just like that, she climbed into her car and drove away from Charlotte’s Creek. When she got to the grid she couldn’t help glancing back, but Ted had gone, leaving only Shep, sitting by himself gazing after her, marking the spot where she’d just parted from the man she loved.
Chapter 43
As it turned out, there was no need for the Wests’ belongings to go into storage. One of the Brisbane estate agents Lucy had contacted phoned her back before they were a hundred kilometres south of Ingham to offer Mel a small, partly furnished three-bedroom brick house in Newmarket. It was comparatively cheap as well as being close to the hospital and a school, so Mel accepted on the spot.
They drove in convoy, and on the second day, once they reached the outskirts of the city, Lucy went in the lead, negotiating the motorways, and what Mel described as the ‘rabbit warren’ of streets through Brisbane itself. They stopped and got out at a park for an early dinner.
‘Can’t get my bearings in this bloody place,’ Mel complained, looking around for the sun, her face hostile. ‘Thank God you’re here, Lucy. Your blood’s worth bottling.’
The kids were strangely silent and still. Lucy looked at Cooper with concern. He seemed to have shut down in some way, slumped on the bench and staring blankly at the passing cars. She tried to catch his eye and smile, but he seemed to look right through her; it f
elt to Lucy as though he’d left some essential part of himself far behind.
They set off again through the city streets, and finally arrived at the plainly tidy little blond-brick rental house with its rectangle of yellow lawn, row of round sunburnt shrubs, and red-painted letterbox. Lucy went to unlock the door as the family climbed out of their station wagon and stood numbly looking at their new home.
Lucy stayed on for four weeks to help with the unpacking, enrolling the kids at school, and purchasing uniforms and general supplies. She tried to be bright and positive, and to her surprise the children were no trouble; indeed, they were so unnaturally subdued that she almost wished for some of their old defiance. She knew they were quietly reeling from the shock of their new situation, and that Cooper in particular was taking it hard. Mel seemed to be on automatic, visiting Dennis each day in between Henry’s sleeps, all the household chores and school commitments dictated by her new timetable.
At last the day came when Lucy saw that the family was functioning within its new routine. Realising that she’d become superfluous, she decided that it was time for her to go.
She’d accompanied Mel to the hospital on several occasions, but had usually been too occupied with Henry to give the immobilised Dennis much more than a cheerful wave. However, the Saturday before she left for Sydney, she resisted the pleas of the children to be allowed to go with her, and visited the hospital on her own.
When she walked into Dennis’s ward she was pleasantly surprised to see Lackey McCann perched on the edge of the bed, looking exceedingly out of place in his patched jeans and riding boots. Dennis moved his eyes in his rigid head to look at Lucy as she approached the bed, and Lackey turned to follow his gaze.
‘Well, if it isn’t the lovely Lucy.’ Lackey grinned, clearly pleased to see her. ‘Fancy meeting you in a place like this.’
‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, I can tell you,’ Dennis said softly. ‘So pretty and young.’
Lucy sat on the chair beside his bed and smiled. She knew Dennis wasn’t being disrespectful and recognised the compliment for what it was. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye for a while,’ she said. ‘I’m heading home to Sydney tomorrow.’
‘So Mel said,’ Dennis replied. ‘Good on you. You’ve been a bloody angel.’ To Lucy’s horror his eyes filled with tears. She put her hand on top of his limp one, resting on the covers.
He blinked in embarrassment. ‘Look at me, would you? Wouldn’t waste a bullet on it, eh, Lackey?’ He sniffed, his nose running now, but there was nothing he could do about it. Lackey reached into his own pocket and brought out a fairly grubby, scrunched-up cloth hanky; with extreme gentleness, he wiped his best friend’s eyes and nose. The lump in Lucy’s throat prevented her from speaking, but now Dennis was laughing.
‘True friendship, that. I’ll ask you not to wipe my arse, though, mate. A man needs to keep a little dignity.’
‘Just be grateful that you didn’t squash your agates,’ Lackey joked, following Dennis’s attempt at light-heartedness. ‘You can get over most things, but not that.’
They chatted on for a while about this and that. But when Lackey began to give tidings from the north, Dennis stopped him. ‘No offence, mate, but I don’t give a rat’s. Tell me about anywhere else but there. Talk about anything but cattle and cattle country.’
Lackey, seeming to understand, fell silent immediately, but Lucy looked at Dennis with confused concern. He fixed his mournful eyes on her face.
‘I slogged my guts out for that place, Lucy,’ he explained. ‘Loved every speck of dirt, every damn corner of it. Wanted it to be the best, me and Mel both. We weren’t always like we are now.’
Lucy nodded and squeezed Dennis’s hand. It was clearly an effort for him to talk. ‘It’s okay,’ she said gently. ‘I think I understand.’
But he continued, ‘Everything went rotten, just turned sour, bit by bit.’
‘I know, mate,’ Lackey muttered. ‘Wasn’t your fault, eh.’
Lucy nodded again.
‘Hate the place now,’ Dennis went on. ‘Hate it, and every bloody thing connected with it. Just the thought of it makes me sick.’ He squirmed a little. ‘I wanna wash me hands of it, you know?’
‘Yeah, mate.’ Lackey hung his head.
‘I should’ve listened to Mel five years back. She saw the writing on the wall, said we should leave, go and manage some other cashed-up joint. I wouldn’t have a bar of it, thought I’d lose the chance to have me own place, but now that’s happened anyway. And I would’ve still had me marriage and the respect of me kids.’
Lackey looked up, his face firm. ‘You gotta start looking ahead, mate. Get yourself better.’
But Dennis wasn’t listening. ‘When my kids look at me, they see a no-good bastard. Not just ’cause I’m crippled—it happened long before that. I’m a joke to them. They look up to bloody Goldy more than me, and rightly so.’
‘But it’s you they love!’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘Kids are amazing. They don’t write people off the way adults do. You’ll earn their respect again!’
‘Yeah, in my dreams,’ Dennis muttered. ‘It’s too late for that.’
‘That’s a flaming cop-out if ever I heard one, Westy.’ There was a fierce glint in Lackey’s eyes. ‘I don’t like the way you’re talking.’
‘I’m not gonna top myself, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Dennis said defensively. ‘I don’t have the guts.’
‘Now, look here, mate.’ Lackey frowned. ‘Time to stop all this rot. Nothing brave about suicide. Time to cut the violins.’
‘Mel needs you to get well as fast as you can,’ Lucy added. ‘She’s struggling. And what’s more, she loves you so much, even after everything that’s happened.’
‘You reckon?’ Dennis asked, his voice full of scepticism.
Lackey went on. ‘So you lost your place. It’s bad, really bad, but it could be worse. You could lose your wife and kids to boot, if you don’t pull yourself outta this hole you’re in. Mel needs you. She’s a top woman, mate. Your kids need you. Little old Henry don’t even know you yet.’
Lucy nodded in agreement and patted Dennis’s hand encouragingly.
Dennis began to cry again, and this time he made no effort to stem the flow of tears. ‘But where to from here?’ he quavered, his voice cracking. ‘I don’t know how to do anything else.’
Seeing his agonised expression, Lucy felt as though her heart was breaking, but Lackey went on relentlessly. ‘Your first job’s getting better. Let’s be honest, you got a fair bit of time to dream up a new occupation.’
Dennis laughed wryly through his tears, and Lackey again wiped his nose for him, adding, ‘You’ll get a good payout from the sale of Charlotte’s Creek, so financially you haven’t a worry yet.’
Lucy felt compelled to speak. ‘You farmers don’t realise what you’re capable of. When I first came to Charlotte’s Creek, my mind boggled to observe people who seemed to possess so many skills, who could do almost anything to do with animals, plants, mechanics or building. You’re overqualified for so many jobs!’
Lackey laughed. But Lucy was serious. ‘You people on the land aren’t aware of how useless you make the rest of us look in comparison. I think you might find that an ordinary job will be a piece of cake. You’ll have working hours, weekends, holidays, and even compensation if you hurt yourself!’
Dennis chuckled weakly. ‘Ta, Lucy. But you’re not really getting my drift.’ He paused and took a deep breath before continuing softly, ‘The land and cattle . . . as much as they drive us to drink, they’re our lives, not our jobs. We can’t just go and get another one like you townies. We live and breathe this stuff. What bugger would flog himself out there like that otherwise?’
Examining his face as he spoke with such quiet passion, Lucy understood at last. She nodded slowly. ‘Well, you’ll just have to think up a way of getting back out there, then—somewhere. I suspect Cooper won’t give you a lot of choice in the matter, anyway. And Billie doesn’t seem t
o be a town kid, either.’
A sudden look of reluctant hope crossed Dennis’s features.
‘You tell him, mate.’ Lackey slapped Lucy on the back.
At that moment a nurse appeared. She unhooked Dennis’s clipboard from the end of his bed and said, without looking up, ‘Visiting hours finished a few minutes ago. It’s the patients’ rest time now.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Lucy stood to leave.
‘You mind if I hang about?’ Lackey asked. ‘I’ve come in from the sticks to see this bloke.’
‘Yeah, mate, he’s no trouble,’ Dennis pleaded. ‘He’ll just sit in the corner and read his dirty magazine.’ He sniggered and Lucy was delighted to see a trace of his old spark.
‘You’re full of rot, Westy,’ Lackey complained. ‘I’d flatten you if you weren’t already flat out.’
‘No visitors are permitted to stay,’ the nurse repeated tersely, still studying Dennis’s chart.
‘Never mind, mate,’ Lackey said. ‘I’m round for the week. Be back this arvo.’
Dennis turned his eyes towards Lucy. ‘Dunno what to say to you, mate. Can’t ever tell you what you did, eh.’
‘I’ve loved every minute of it, Dennis.’ Lucy bent and kissed him on the forehead.
‘Bloody liar.’ He grinned. ‘Cheerio.’
Lucy and Lackey left the room together. As they took the lift down to the ground floor, Lucy smiled to herself. Being in a lift with Lackey McCann seemed surreal, a collision of two worlds that were never supposed to meet. They stepped out of the sterile-smelling, air-conditioned hospital and into the heat and fumes of the noisy street, and then turned to face each other.
The grazier gave her a firm hug. ‘You did a good job in there with that sad old bastard,’ he said admiringly.
‘You too.’ Lucy smiled and watched him saunter away, his dusty Akubra looking forlornly exotic amid the crowd of busy shoppers and office workers.
Chapter 44
Lucy trudged wearily up the three steps onto the unlit brick landing in front of her parents’ front door. Fumbling with the key in the dimness, she let herself in. It was Sunday night, and she’d passed what should have been a nice afternoon catching up with two old high-school friends. But all day she’d been gripped by a persistent melancholy, in spite of the resolution she’d made that very morning, when ironing her outfit, to think only positive thoughts.
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