Pulling a hankie out of his back pocket, Will wiped away her tears before giving it to her to use. If Izzy hadn’t been so heartbroken, she might have laughed. What bloke carries around a hankie these days! Nonetheless, she was grateful for it.
‘I’ve gotta take care of Tom and get back to work, as I’m classing,’ said Izzy, before sneaking a glance at Tom. She wanted to be with him, lay him to rest, but she needed to keep working so they could be finished before the rain came.
Will put his hand on her chin and tilted it up until she was looking him in the eyes. ‘Don’t worry. Leave Tom to me. I’ll put him next to where we buried Jo last year. Bill was pretty cut up about losing his best sheepdog to a bloody snakebite. So I gave him a hand – I know where to go. You’ve got a shed to run. Off you go.’ Will gave her another kiss on the top of her head and then gently pushed her off towards the noisy shearing shed, watching her until she disappeared.
She didn’t feel like eating her lunch any more, plus she had a few fleeces of wool already piled up to be assessed. Nobody in the shed said anything to Izzy as she went back to work. There wasn’t much they could say, plus they had a job to do. Todd did put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, but that was the way it was out here. The sheep still had to be shorn.
Will arrived back nearly an hour later, and he gave her an encouraging wink as he touched her arm on his way past to help Todd load up the pile of wool into the press. She pushed herself extra hard throughout the afternoon, trying to put Tom to the back of her mind. As the last few ewes were dragged from their pen, she saw his dirty bale bag sitting in the corner of the shearing shed – empty. It had been a long time since her heart had felt so heavy.
Will had been helping out all afternoon and came to her now. ‘How about leaving this for Todd and the others to finish up and I’ll take you up to Tom.’
Izzy looked into Will’s tender eyes and said, ‘I’d like that.’ She went up to Todd who was skirting a fleece on the table. ‘Todd, would you mind holding the fort while I duck off for a bit. I’ll be back to help bale the rest later.’
Todd scratched his grey whiskery chin. ‘No sweat, boss. You take your time.’
Izzy followed Will to his ute and they sat in silence as he drove to the pet patch where Tom had been buried. A minute later, they arrived via the two-wheeled track in a section of bush with large mallee trees, smaller shrubs and Guangdong trees. There were little mounds of dirt in between the trees and scrub where previous loved pets had been buried. When they stopped, Izzy got out and paused at a section of dirt with an old wooden cross pegged into it. ‘Joey’ was engraved into the flaking wood, but only Izzy knew what it said – she’d carved it when she was fifteen. Joey had been her pet kangaroo and he was two years old when they found him dead, unsure of what had killed him. She followed Will towards Tom’s resting place and knelt down to pick up his dog collar, which Will had left on top. Her fingers caressed the old leather with its blue and green ear tags. The blue one said Gumlea and the others had Rob’s farm name, Cliffviews, on them. Tom’s round metal name tag dangled from the middle. Instantly, Izzy’s eyes misted up as she fingered the cold disc. She heard Will’s feet shuffle backwards as he gave her some time alone. Seizing the moment, she placed her hand on the freshly turned soil and whispered her last goodbye.
‘Farewell, my mate. I’m gonna miss ya, Tom.’ She stood up and scrunched her hand, feeling the coarse grains of sand rub against her skin. Then reluctantly she brushed her hand on her pants, feeling like she was brushing away the last of Tom. Izzy gripped Tom’s collar tightly and turned to Will. ‘Let’s go.’
Obligingly he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her as they walked back to the ute in silence.
Cut-outs were a commonplace thing after finishing a shed and were normally noisy drunken affairs. Not tonight. Izzy sat next to Will on the solid bales and chatted quietly, drinking cold beers slowly as the stormy humidity circled around them.
Brad Jackson had to get home early because they were taking the kids away for the weekend, and the rest of the crew had wanted to head off. The Lake Grace pub had ‘chase the ace’ on. It was a game where one person got the chance to pick a card out of the pack and if it was the ace they won; if not, the money stacked up till the next game night. The pot was now up to five grand. It was guaranteed to be packed out with plenty of fun on offer, and that’s where the shearing crew wanted to be tonight.
Giving the crew a final wave as they headed off in their little white bus, Izzy and Will found themselves alone on the floorboards near the large sliding door of the shed.
‘Well, that’s gotta be the cheapest cut-out we’ve had yet. Dad will be pleased to know Brad and his lot didn’t drink all his piss!’ Izzy laughed.
‘Thank God for the pub, hey.’ Will’s extraordinary blue eyes fixed upon her, exuding warmth and sympathy. She felt caressed and melted into their depth.
‘Will, thank you … for everything.’ She reached out her hand and held his arm lightly for a moment before letting go. ‘It means a lot.’ She wouldn’t have trusted the job to anyone else.
‘It’s okay, kiddo. You’ll be all right.’ He brushed some stray strands of hair from her face, before resting his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He wasn’t sure how long he could handle seeing her this way. It was indescribable the way the sadness in her eyes worried him. She looked so vulnerable he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and make it all better.
‘Yeah, I’ll be okay, I’m sure.’ She gave him a reassuring, half-hearted smile.
‘By the way, I came to drop off the pressure cleaner and to tell you that your folks are coming home tomorrow. Sorry it’s taken me so long. They couldn’t get hold of you so they rang me,’ said Will, remembering why he had visited in the first place.
‘Oh, great … not. So they finally got sick of Dad and sent him home early. There goes my freedom. Just kidding,’ she added quickly, seeing Will’s raised eyebrow. ‘I knew they’d be home some time this week.’ They both stepped out into the night sky. ‘I’ve had my mobile with me but the reception is crap here at the shed, so I’m not surprised Mum rang you. Did she sound excited?’
‘Yeah, she sounded like she couldn’t wait to get off the phone and get home.’
Izzy felt her belly flip in anticipation of having her parents home again. ‘Wow, look at those black clouds. Hmm, and smell that rain. God, I love that smell,’ said Izzy, soaking up the fresh, moist air as it drifted past her nose.
No sooner had she said that than the heavens opened up and large drops came pelting out of the dark sky, landing on her hot skin in the warm night.
Will opened his mouth to the rain, tasting it. ‘Now, that’s refreshing.’ He nodded towards his ute. ‘You want a ride back to the house?’
Izzy watched the rain drip from his wet hair down his face to his soaked shirt. ‘Nah, she’s right. I think I might walk home in the wet. Thanks again, Will.’ She leant over and gave him a hug. ‘Catch ya later.’
She watched his tail-lights disappear into the evening, then began her walk to the house. The rain was heavy now but she didn’t care. She clutched Tom’s collar tightly as the drops soaked through to her skin and fresh tears mixed with the rain dribbling down her face.
20
IT rained most of the night. Izzy had enjoyed going to sleep with the pitter-patter on the tin roof, and it was still going steady into the afternoon when her folks arrived home. They’d had nearly two inches already. Good February rain.
Eagerly, Izzy opened the door into the car shed and welcomed her mum, before kissing her dad and aiding him into a waiting wheelchair.
‘So, how long you gonna need this for, Dad?’ said Izzy, tapping on the steel frame.
‘For a while I think, sweetheart. There’s still a long way to go yet. Your mum’s stuck changing my dressings, the poor woman. You know she picked it up just like that, put them out of a job,’ he said proudly, looking at Jean. ‘She’s been am
azing. She’s giving me the courage I need to get through this.’
Jean blushed at her husband’s words of praise. She wasn’t used to it, especially from him. ‘I love you too, honey,’ she said as she caressed Bill’s face.
‘Oh, get a room, you two,’ Izzy said, laughing at them happily.
Jean looked seriously at Bill. ‘Never mind that! He still has to take it easy. It’s added a lot of stress to his body and he’s not allowed to lift a finger.’
Bill rolled his eyes. ‘I can’t even do that,’ he said, lifting his lightly bandaged hand. Soon he’d be able to take the dressings off his hands – they were only so the wounds wouldn’t get infected.
Izzy began to push her dad’s wheelchair through the open door of the garage. It was probably the newest thing they had around here. The old timber-framed asbestos one had blown down a few years ago on a day they’d had gale-force winds. It had been like watching a wrecking ball demolish a building, but without the ball. Luckily, the insurance had covered a new one. It even had a matching green roller door, manual operation of course – nothing too fancy out here.
Izzy spun Bill around on the spot, then tilted the wheelchair back, and slowly, carefully pulled him up the small rise to the concrete floor of the verandah. At the same time, she made a mental note to rig up some wooden ramps in the next couple of days.
‘So, how was shearing? Did they get it all finished before this rain?’ Bill asked.
‘Yes, luckily they did. The wool …’ Izzy was about to continue but realised what she was about to say and decided to change it slightly. ‘Er … Will said the wool wasn’t bad this year – the micron was down a bit. It’s definitely an improvement on last year. It must be all Clyde’s handiwork.’ Clyde was their prize merino ram. Her father had splurged on him two years ago with the hope of just this result.
‘That’s some good news. How was Brad and his shearing team? Drink much of my grog?’
Izzy laughed. ‘No, it was a quiet cut-out.’ She remembered why she had felt so horrible last night and her heart sank as she thought of Tom.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jean asked, searching her eyes for answers.
Bill quickly glanced up at his daughter, trying to see what was going on between his two girls.
‘Bugger-all misses you, does it, Mum?’ Izzy inhaled deeply and let it all out in a rushed blur of words. ‘I had to put Tom down yesterday.’ She saw their instant alarm and then their questioning expressions. ‘He jumped a fence and … busted his back on some timber. Will buried him up near Jo in the pet patch,’ she explained sadly.
The pet patch was the area where all their pets had come to rest over the years. They had been through six working dogs, four cats, a couple of pink and grey galahs and two kangaroos. And that was just in Izzy’s lifetime.
‘Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,’ said Jean. She put her arm around Izzy and gave her a squeeze.
‘I thought something was missing when we arrived. He was a bloody good dog. I’m sorry you had to put him down, love.’ Bill held her hand and gently squeezed her fingers as best he could. He was thankful he had taught his girls how to use a gun properly, and how to respect them as well. You never knew when you might need to kill a snake or an animal in pain. Also, there were kangaroos, foxes and rabbits that needed culling. Mind you, he didn’t like Izzy using them at all now – only for emergencies. She’d first learnt with the .22 rifle on empty beer cans, and then progressed to his Winchester under and over shotgun. She was quite a good shot on a moving target. Even when she was hanging on for dear life on the back of the ute. But that was back when days were more carefree. Bill had already lost one daughter through being too blasé and he wasn’t about to lose another.
Jean and Izzy collected the two black travel bags from the car and returned them to the bedroom. Izzy put her dad’s on the floor and sat her mum’s on the floral double bed. The room had soft blue carpet and cream walls with several blue-framed pictures: one of their wedding, ones of Claire and Izzy, and a family shot they’d had done together at Izzy’s sixteenth birthday of them all piled together on a hay bale. Izzy watched as her mum began unzipping her suitcase.
‘How was the trip home?’ she asked.
Jean pulled out the neatly folded clothes and placed them back into the drawer in her old jarrah wardrobe. ‘Long. I couldn’t wait to get home. It’s been ages since I’ve driven the car. Normally your father takes us everywhere, so you could imagine how bad my nerves were heading out of Perth. But once we hit the open road I was fine. The house is clean, Izzy. Thanks for keeping everything on track.’ Jean emptied the case, then lifted the cream flounce and pushed it under the bed.
Izzy waited until she’d sat down next to her. ‘No worries, but I think I lost the daylily in the pot out the front.’
‘Oh, it’ll come back with a bit of water. How have you been, and Will?’ Jean asked with an expression of interest. ‘Did I detect something between you two when I last saw you in Perth?’
‘Mum!’ Izzy’s heart flipped and then she felt embarrassed that her mum had noticed. Was it obvious that she liked Will? She’d only just acknowledged it to herself. Izzy liked him a lot but was adult enough to deal with it, or so she told herself. But if her mum could tell … could Will?
Jean must have been reading her thoughts as she said, ‘No one else has noticed. Your father couldn’t tell. He’s just happy to see the two of you at peace at last. It’s given him so much strength and he’s been itching to get home to see you both again.’
Izzy spoke truthfully. ‘I do like him, Mum, but I’m only just figuring it out. Nothing will come of it as he might not feel the same. Besides, it’s probably just a crush that will disappear in time.’
‘You used to say that to me when you were fifteen and you thought he was the duck’s bum. Maybe it’s never left?’ Jean asked.
‘I don’t know. He’s just a great guy to be around and he’s changed. I see that now so clearly. It’s made him a better man.’
‘And I’m sure he sees the change in you also. You’ve done a lot of growing yourself in the last few years.’
‘You think so?’
Jean cupped Izzy’s face. ‘I do. You’re even more beautiful than I could have hoped for and you’ve grown into a strong, determined young woman with the world at her feet.’
Izzy hugged her mum and held her for a minute before pulling away. ‘Thanks, Ma. But do you think Dad’s seen the change? I feel like he still sees me as a teenager.’
‘Your father’s a tough one, Izzy. He doesn’t want to see the change, but I’m sure he knows it’s happened. Speaking of your dad, we’d better go check on him. I have to watch him like a hawk now. He’ll be wanting to do things he’s not yet capable of.’
Bill had slowly, awkwardly and a little painfully wheeled his chair around so he was facing the sliding glass doors. Rain continued to pelt down outside, making small splashes as it hit the flat puddles on the waterlogged ground, and whooshing down the gutters full force.
‘So, are we gonna need to build an ark?’ Izzy’s voice floated through the air with a hint of humour.
‘This rain is a worry,’ Bill said. ‘I was watching the weather forecast this morning, and due to the cyclone up north it looks like it’s going to be hanging around for a while.’ His frown lines deepened. Cyclones never reached them but they always brought some wild weather.
‘I was thinking of heading out to check that the sheep are on high ground, Dad,’ Izzy said, trying to relax him.
Bill squinted at his daughter. ‘You make sure Will is with you. I don’t want you getting stuck out there in that crap. You’ll probably end up bogged somewhere and it’ll be dark in a few hours.’
Gee, talk about getting shot down in flames. ‘Don’t worry, Dad. I can manage.’
Bill stared at her hard, as if to say, ‘You do as you’re told or else,’ and it got the results he was after. She caved in and nodded her head obediently.
‘Better still, give Wi
ll a ring and get him to come over and pick you up if he’s not busy. That way I can catch up with him before you head out.’
‘Sure – whatever,’ Izzy said under her breath. Instead of heading out the back door she swung around and stormed off towards the phone near the kitchen, her shoulders slumped in frustration. She didn’t need chauffeuring around. It was embarrassing. She felt sorry for Will too, always being dragged into their family stuff.
An hour later Bill sat propped in his wheelchair opposite Will at the dining table, the pair of them waffling on like two old women at a CWA meeting. Izzy slouched in a chair next to her dad. Her joints were rusting up and the dust was starting to settle while she waited for them to finish jabbering. She wanted to check the sheep and see the water damage. It beat listening to her dad praise Will for his efforts in keeping the farm going.
‘Like I said, Bill, I didn’t do that much. Izzy kept most of it going herself. She’s the one who needs thanking.’ Will had tried to explain things to Bill but every time he broached the subject, Bill shut him down.
‘Well, it’s nice that you kept her involved but you were the decision man, so thanks.’ Will looked to Izzy and she nodded her head as if to say ‘don’t waste your breath’. His chest felt tight, like it was knotted up. How could she just sit there and let him take all the praise? If their positions were reversed, he reckoned he’d be having a fit. But Izzy was just sitting with a bored expression. She caught his stare and rolled her eyes.
Will raised his head slightly. ‘What?’ His tantalising mouth questioned her.
Izzy sat up and leant forward. ‘You’re going on like a bloody old woman. Yada, yada, yada.’ Izzy snapped her fingers open and shut like an imaginary talking mouth. ‘And they think women are bad,’ she huffed.
Before she could finish her sentence, Will pitched the small top of his stubbie at her, causing her to smile, which lifted his spirits.
Bill intervened. ‘All right, you two. Go on, get outta here. And take care. It’ll be dark out soon. But make sure you fill me in on everything, okay. It gets bloody boring sitting in this all day.’
Family Farm Page 20