‘You sure you don’t want a hand?’ said Will, his eyebrows raised.
‘Nope. I’ve managed with this and more. I’m sure I’ll cope. Cheers anyway.’
Izzy was no helpless female, that was for sure. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. She doubted Will would know what a real day’s work was like, especially using old machinery. He couldn’t survive without airconditioning and air-cushioned seats.
‘Shit, that’s nice and thick,’ Will commented, gazing out at the crop. ‘Don’t you wish the whole lot would be like that?’ He leaned forward, trying to get a better look through the large front window on the header.
Izzy slowed down the header a fraction as it was struggling to churn through the thickness. ‘It’s the best bit I’ve seen yet. This paddock has been going about fifteen bags so far. A lot nicer than the six bags it went last year!’
They were not far from the field bin now. Izzy looked back through the spy-hole, checking how full the header box was. The wheat was about a foot from the top – just enough room to harvest all the way to the field bin.
‘What’s Bill’s old Leyland doing out here?’ asked Will, noticing the truck parked near the bin.
‘I’m filling it up when Dave can’t get back out for a load. I’ll run it into the bin when I get a moment. This way I can keep on harvesting. It only holds eight tonnes, but it still helps to get it off quicker.’
‘So you’ve got your truck licence?’ asked Will.
‘Yes, and don’t you worry, it’s all legit, and no – I didn’t have to bribe anyone to get it,’ she said sarcastically. Izzy frowned at him. ‘Why look so shocked?’
Realisation dawned on Will’s face as he put two and two together. ‘Ah, I see, now. You were driving Dave’s truck. I guess I don’t know that much about you, after all. I don’t remember you having much to do with the farm before you went away.’
‘By Dad’s standards I didn’t. But I worked on a farm over east near Merriwa. My boss, Rob, showed and taught me most of what I know.’ Izzy shrugged her shoulders and hoped her discomfort at mentioning Rob’s name wasn’t obvious. ‘It’s always been my dream to work the farm. The sooner Dad understands that, the better. It’s becoming a bit of a mission.’ Izzy sighed. This could be her only chance to prove she could do it.
Will stared at Izzy, seeing her in a new light. He ran his gaze over her lean, muscled physique, down to her dry, callused hands. From what he could see all around him, he knew she’d been working hard for some time. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before now. Maybe it was just too hard to get past how good she’d looked in that blue dress at the barbecue …
Will watched her pulling up alongside the field bin. She was a natural with the machine. He could certainly get used to looking at her intense eyes with such focused concentration. Her small singlet was a bonus.
‘So, how much you got left to do?’ he asked curiously.
‘About eight hundred hectares. I should be finished by the end of the week, with a bit of luck. Dad’s happy to have me stay home and keep a watchful eye on the contractor.’
‘Even if the contractor doesn’t exist!’ Will laughed.
Izzy gave Will an untrusting look.
‘I won’t say anything, I promise. So, you’ll be free for the bin party on Saturday then. You’re gonna come?’ said Will, as he pulled the auger lever for Izzy.
‘Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. There’s still so many people I haven’t caught up with yet.’
‘Cool. Well, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll catch you there. Thanks for the ride. And remember, if you get stuck, just give me a call.’ He grinned when Izzy flashed him a look that said ‘not in this lifetime’. ‘I’ll try and ring Bill tonight. He’s in Royal Perth, yeah?’ he asked as he opened the door.
‘That’s right.’
‘Thanks. Well, see ya, Izzy.’ With that, he gave her his usual knockout smile, shut the door behind him and climbed down the steps.
Izzy watched him walk back to his ute. Such long strides and such long legs. He was very fit. No wonder all the girls swooned over him. With a shake of her head, she prepared to take off for another lap around the paddock.
9
THE week flew by in a haze of wheat and sleep. Exhaustion was beginning to creep into Izzy’s body so she was glad to finish the last of the harvesting on Friday at around noon. Proudly, she took the old Leyland truck in with the last load to the bin, thankful it was finished. The crew that worked at the large bin storages checked to make sure she was coming to the party. They liked to round up as many people as they could – the more the merrier.
The next thing on Izzy’s mind was to clean up all the machinery and put it away. Not a fun job but at least it was only wheat dust she had to crawl around in and not barley or oat dust – itchy stuff. Izzy knew of a bloke who’d put oat dust in his mate’s jocks on his buck’s night. The poor fella had scratched himself raw.
By Saturday afternoon the header was clean, and she’d rung Mike to let him know it was ready to take home. Not much was left to do that was important, as she’d already brought the field bins in and cleaned up the truck. That night she was thankful just to sit back and relax while she ate her tea – bangers and mash with a side of vegies – and not have to rush off afterwards. The seven o’clock sleep-in she’d had that morning had been wonderful. The four a.m. starts and then not crawling into bed until eleven p.m. had started to wear thin. Izzy leaned back and rested her legs on the chair opposite.
While sitting there, she thought about what she should wear that night for the end-of-harvest celebration – the bin party. It was usually held as a way for the farmers to thank the bin crew for a good job helping them get their grain off quickly so they could get back in with another load. The drivers would go like the clappers delivering ten or more loads a day. Anyone who spilt grain was fined a carton of beer – and it was at the bin party that debts were cleared.
Izzy swung back on the dining chair, a sausage hanging off the end of her fork. Yes, she thought, this little lady was well overdue to let her hair down. The phone rang, startling her from her thoughts.
‘Hello,’ she answered brightly.
‘Hi, darling. It’s Mum.’ Her voice sounded tired but happy.
‘Hi, Mum. How’s things going? Are you at Sarah’s?’
‘Yeah, we’re about to organise dinner but I thought I’d give you a call first. Your dad wants to know how the last couple of loads went.’
‘Well, you can tell him we’ve finished and it’s all in the bin now. The last paddock went well, with high protein and bugger-all screenings. Dad should be happy when he sees the money coming in. Tell him Mike’s coming to pick up the header and I’ve paid the contract driver.’ Izzy felt a tinge of remorse having to lie to her mum.
They talked for another minute and Jean glossed over Bill’s grafting procedure; whether it was to spare Izzy or herself, she wasn’t sure.
‘I’ll try and call you again in a day or so with a better update. But there’s not much happening. It’s just going to be a long, slow healing process. You take care tonight, love. I don’t want you driving home drunk.’
‘Don’t stress, Mum. I’ll pack my swag. I love you. Give my love to Dad. Talk soon.’
‘Love you too. Bye, darling.’
An hour later Izzy and Tom drove down the gravel road to the party, singing their hearts out to Lee Kernaghan’s ‘The Outback Club’. Tom always howled when Izzy sang. She wasn’t sure if it was because he liked it or because he was protesting, trying to drown out her voice.
Izzy drove over the railway crossing at the end of town and turned right towards the three large storage bins. Next to them was an open bulkhead, which was a large area of bitumen with small tin walls to hold the grain. When they were full, large blue and green tarps would be pulled over the stacks and tightened into place. Being a good year, the yield was up and the three bins had filled quickly, hence the need for the emergency storage. Izzy pulled into a spot near
the accommodation huts and parked next to a large gum tree. She could remember going to bin parties when she worked here. They were always great nights.
There were two large dongas. One was rectangular and filled with individual bedrooms, and the other contained the kitchen and dining area, from which bin staff were coming and going with salads and beer. Outside, a few rusty brown forty-four gallon drums were scattered about the place. Some were rubbish bins. Others were piled high with mallee roots, ready for a fire.
Izzy was well prepared as usual. She had her swag in the back of the ute, along with her esky full of ice and drinks for the night. Turning to Tom she gave him the ‘Mum is boss’ stare. ‘Stay here, Tom.’ Tom tilted his head as if he understood and then reluctantly lay down on the seat and put his head on his paws. She was sure that if he was human, he’d be pouting right now. Izzy wound the window down further for him, and then shut the door. ‘You just stay near the ute,’ she said. Reaching over the back tray, she dipped into her esky, took out a beer and headed off towards the mixed group of farmers, truckies and bin crew.
The sun was close to setting. The beautiful blue sky of the day was giving way to a yellowy red, like a fire dancing on the horizon. Izzy breathed in the evening air with the faint smell of eucalyptus and burning snaggers. God, who was in charge of the barbie?
Izzy’s jeans hung low over her thongs, scuffing the ground as she walked. She pulled the low v-neck, deep-red top she wore down over the top of them. It clung just a little too tightly to her breasts for her liking, but it was one her favourites as Claire had given it to her. Surprisingly, she’d gone to the effort of putting on some eyeliner, knowing it picked up the dark specks in her eyes. As she passed a large shrub, she quickly brushed back her hair, which was out of its usual ponytail, checking it wasn’t too wayward. She always worried that the slight wave in her hair would get out of hand, but it felt like it was sitting just below her shoulders nicely.
Joining the first group of men, she said a quick hello before cracking open her drink. Travis was in the half-circle next to his dad and he gave her a smile and a nod. It was a mixed crowd of young and old. Fathers and sons usually came, while the wives and mothers stayed at home unless they were up for a drink. But half of the bin crew were females and helped to even out numbers. James, one of the bin crew, came round to greet her, giving her a spare stubbie holder for her drink. He was about twenty, she guessed. Hard to tell because he had such clean fair skin with lots of freckles and looked much younger than he probably was. She’d met James quite a few times on her trips to the bin. He was a nice bloke, always cheerful, full of jokes, and kept his grid clean and tidy.
‘Cheers for that, James.’ He smiled back at her and tucked his long blond hair behind his ears as he moved on.
The party was starting to hum as there was quite a turnout. There were a couple of fine-looking blokes about, which always made it more interesting. A few she hadn’t seen before and she guessed they were blokes from nearby bins who’d heard about the party. There were more than five other bins around Pingaring, all within sixty kilometres.
Will pulled up a little while later in his new red Holden V8 SS ute. Everyone turned their heads towards the low rumble, which had a way of getting under your skin and joining the pulsing of your blood. Not bad, she thought – the ute, that is. Izzy loved the sound of a V8 engine.
As the night wore on, Izzy felt herself relaxing more and more – with the aid of a bourbon or two. She’d run into Jess, who was spending most of the night hanging off Travis. Their love for each other was unmistakeable. They’d already eaten by the time Izzy found them – some sausages and steak dished out on paper plates with plastic utensils. Izzy knew Tom would sneak off early in the morning to clean up the leftovers. Izzy had eaten hers on a wobbly deck chair next to James, Jess and Travis. There was nothing like eating under the stars out in the open with the smell of barbecued meat wafting through the air.
‘Hey, you guys wanna come out and catch some gilgies tomorrow?’ Izzy asked them as the idea came into her head. They used to have so much fun going from dam to dam.
‘Oh, that sounds great, Iz, but Trav and I have to go to a busy bee at the tennis club,’ Jess replied.
‘I can come, if that’s okay,’ piped up James.
‘Sure, why not. How’s after lunch sound?’
‘Sounds great,’ James replied all too enthusiastically, causing Jess to raise her eyebrows at Izzy. When James left to get another drink, Jess dug her boot in.
‘I think he’s keen on you,’ she teased.
Izzy screwed up her face. ‘Please, I hardly know him. Plus I don’t need another complication in my life, thank you very much.’
‘Come on, Izzy. You could have any bloke here tonight. You look amazing – you should wear you hair out more often.’
‘It’s very impractical when you’re working,’ replied Izzy, evading the compliment.
Jess threw Izzy a dark look. ‘My God, I’m amazed you’ve even had boyfriends. Did you have any when you were over in Merriwa?’
‘A couple, nothing serious. I was with this one bloke called John, who ran a farm twenty minutes from where I was, but after four months, he found a real nice-looking teacher from the local school. I heard they were engaged before I left. So I haven’t had a fella for … um … it’d be about eleven months now. No great loss. John wasn’t that great a kisser.’ Izzy laughed and Jess just rolled her eyes towards the Southern Cross.
Leaning back in her unstable deck chair, Izzy watched the young girls vying for Will’s attention. Travis and James had made bets on who’d end up with who by the end of the night. If she was being honest with herself, Izzy had to confess that she thought Will was probably the best-looking bloke there. He was quite a sight in his loose-fitting jeans and black shirt with a silver pattern printed on the right shoulder. His hair was gelled just slightly so that his fringe was styled back off his forehead. Ah, who was she kidding? He was the standout without a doubt. James wasn’t far behind, although he was the complete opposite to Will, with his fair skin and blond hair. But he was polite, and he had a great work ethic. Already that put him ahead of most of the blokes she knew.
By now darkness had well and truly settled around them. Someone had set up a large floodlight, which kept them in a bright circle away from the moonlit night. From the other side of the party, James caught Izzy’s eye and wandered over.
‘Hey, Izzy. How’s it going? Havin’ fun?’ James was quite jovial, the contents of the Bundy Rum can in his hand helping to slur his speech.
‘Yeah, it’s not so bad. You look like you’re having a good time, James,’ Izzy replied, a slight look of amusement on her face.
James leant close to Izzy’s ear – the thud of music blaring out of a nearby car was deafeningly loud. ‘So, it doesn’t look like you brought anyone with you, Izzy. No boyfriend waiting at home for you?’ he asked curiously.
‘Gee, you don’t waste any time, do you?’ Izzy chuckled and wondered how much was the alcohol talking. He was usually quite reserved.
‘Just sussing it all out. Don’t you worry about me. My bark is worse than my bite.’ He attempted a wink, then bumped against her arm as he slurred into her ear. ‘Get a load of Angela over there tryin’ her hardest to get into Will’s pants. That’s just saaad.’ Angela was one of the bin girls and was known for her flirtatious ways.
Will was standing near the white hut, behind a rusty drum that was ablaze with red flames. Out of nowhere, a bolt of fear ran through Izzy’s body as orange flames appeared to lick Will’s face like large tongues. His icy blue eyes cut a path through the fire. They connected with hers and sent her body into turmoil. Izzy was flooded with unwelcome vivid images of the header fire and felt herself weaken. She wasn’t sure why she had reacted so fiercely. It made her uneasy to think she’d been as worried about Will’s life as she had about her father’s. She should really slow down on her bourbon intake, or maybe she should have stuck to the beers.
&
nbsp; Will’s eyes were alive and she felt like they could see right into her soul. Was he reading her thoughts? Someone walked in front of him, breaking the connection between them. Will turned and laughed at something one of the blokes said. Angela, who was leaning into Will with her arm resting on his, was trying to join in the conversation. Lucky for some, her small black top was tight, preventing a fallout. It was just about the same at the other end with her tiny denim miniskirt, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. Even from a distance, Izzy could see the thick black eyeliner outlining Angela’s hazel eyes, combined with too much blue eye shadow, and her vibrant red lipstick looked as if it had been applied with a paint roller. Maybe I’m being harsh, Izzy thought, but there’s more to life than trying to get a man’s attention.
She felt James’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.
‘Angela’s had a thing for him all harvest. Been tryin’ hard but to no avail.’ James knew all the goss. He managed to hear everything while working on the bin with Angela and the others.
Izzy shrugged. ‘That surprises me. I thought he’d have jumped at the chance,’ she said, genuinely puzzled.
As if sensing he was being talked about, Will glanced Izzy’s way. Instantly she felt naked under his gaze. He smiled deviously as if reading her thoughts and she felt his eyes drop. Her body reacted like it would to a feather brushing down her naked skin.
Next to her, James rambled on about a small grain mix they’d had last week and complained about the brainless bloke who did it, who’d left because he couldn’t stand the heat. His voice seemed far away and she struggled to pay attention. How could she concentrate? Will’s stare was starting to unsettle her. Heat rose to her cheeks. Quickly she broke his eye contact. Feeling inadequate, she leant towards James and spoke, ‘To answer your earlier question, no I don’t have a boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I want one either.’
James paused mid-speech, raised his eyebrows and gave her a cheeky grin. Without warning, he placed a hand upon her shoulder and pulled her closer, just inches from his Bundy breath. ‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he whispered gently, as if sharing a secret.
Family Farm Page 10