The landscape before her was wide open with stubble paddocks that met the sky, and the odd mallee tree and lots of dead weeds lining the road. Turning right, she left the road that she’d always thought of as the road home. She couldn’t bear to look back. Who knew if she would ever return? The thought filled her guts with a sickness mixed with great sadness. Would she ever be happy? No beloved farm, no happy family, and especially no Will. For a short moment there, she’d dared to dream of the perfect life, but who was she trying to kid? This wasn’t a fairytale. The farm would never be handed to her on a silver plate. It would’ve been bloody nice, though.
No, it was her life, and it was up to her to go and grab her own happy ending. It would take time, but she was sure there’d be another bit of land somewhere to keep her happy. And as for Will, well, there were always plenty more snags on the barbie – or that’s what she tried to tell herself. It was up to Izzy now to turn her life around. Never say die – that’s what Claire had always said. Never say die.
Throwing open the country road map on the seat beside her, she tried to figure out how far north to go. She’d slept her first night just out of town at the local tourist spot called Buckley’s Breakaway. Jean used to take them to play when they were kids and they would often have their birthday parties there. It was a special place where erosion had formed spectacular white cliffs. Izzy had sat at the top among the cypress pine, blue mallet and box poison bushes, her legs hanging over the ledge, looking down into the white gullies completely lost in thought. She’d replayed the fight over and over again, remembered the anger in her dad’s face, and dreamed of a different outcome. She’d decided to keep driving through the towns asking for work until she found something. Let fate run its course. But she wouldn’t stop until she was far enough from home. She didn’t need her dad ruining her chances of finding work. Then, last of all, when she was finally snuggled up under the canvas of her swag, she thought of Will. His vivid blue eyes and the way his whole face radiated when he smiled. She couldn’t imagine a better man, one more caring but also so much fun to be around. Well, she couldn’t be around him any more so she’d just have to get used to it. She wasn’t sure how, but with the distance between them, it was going to make it a damn sight easier. She knew she should try to forget him – he’d probably forgotten about her – but she decided to allow herself one last night to dream of him and the feel of his strong arms around her.
The following day she turned up the volume on the Triple J CD, pulled down the sun visor, and settled back into some long-distance driving. Only this time she felt very alone.
She drove over two hours until she got to Merredin and then spent another two hours asking around for work. After no luck, she headed further north into the heat towards Morawa. She stopped at Dowerin for the night and staked out the pub, thinking she’d ask the locals if anyone needed a farmhand. Izzy sat at the end of the long bar with her beer and saw a tall bloke wearing boots, jeans and a checked shirt approaching. She noticed his hands were stained and rough. He looked like the right sort to ask.
‘G’day, mate. You a local farmer, by any chance?’ she asked as he pulled out a stool.
‘Yep. Name’s Paul. Haven’t seen you around these parts before.’ Paul held out his hand and Izzy shook it.
‘I’m actually looking for work. Don’t know anyone chasing a farmhand, do you?’
She felt Paul’s brown eyes give her the once-over as he scratched his stubbly chin and thought. ‘I can’t say I’ve heard of anyone needing a worker. But I’ll go ask around for you.’ Izzy watched as he headed over to another bloke and slapped him on the shoulder. They exchanged words, and even asked a few others standing by, before Paul returned. He shook his head, ‘Sorry, mate. Not a job anywhere at the moment.’
Izzy hung around for a bit longer, but by ten-thirty she’d parked her ute just out of town in a parking bay and crawled back into her swag. As she lay snuggled up under the umbrella of night, looking at the Milky Way and the Southern Cross, she wondered whether she’d ever find work. Would there be any farmers out there like Rob, willing to give her a go? What would she do if she couldn’t find a job? Would she end up being a barmaid or a checkout chick? Izzy shuddered at the image before rolling over in her swag.
In the morning she rose to the early squawking of magpies in nearby trees and the heat already filling the day. The land was flat around her, paddock upon paddock of leftover stubble from harvest and bare ones with sheep already moving for shade.
Izzy checked her map and decided to skip breakfast and keep going towards Morawa. It was another three and a half hours in the saddle before she got there, five if you counted the stops at the towns to inquire about work. After hunting out the local information boards and the pub for employment information, she was knackered. Morawa was a big town and Izzy felt out of place, so in the warmth of the afternoon sun, she decided to press on and soon came to a small town called Mullawoon, about four hundred and thirty kilometres from Perth. Instantly she liked its small-town feel. It had a general store, a couple of banks, some small clothes shops, a sports oval and pavilion – and most importantly a local pub. As she walked towards the red-brick two-storey pub, she could almost taste the yeasty cold beer. Izzy smiled at an old bloke with scruffy orange hair as he held the large wooden door open for her.
‘G’day,’ he said cheerfully.
She nodded her head in reply before entering. ‘Thanks.’ No wonder he’s happy, she thought. He’s leaving the pub with a belly full of beer. Lucky bastard.
She walked the short distance to the bar and sat on a vacant stool. It seemed pretty quiet for a late afternoon. There were a couple of young guys playing pool over in the far corner and an elderly man with a floppy cream hat just a few stools up from her. By the look of him he was settled in for the night. Pulling her wallet out from her back pocket, she fished out a ten-dollar note and laid it on the bar top.
‘Hiya, love. How ya going? What can I get ya?’ asked a busty barmaid, who was wearing a small white top with the words ‘I like it hot’ in big letters on the front. She looked about Izzy’s age, had a mane of straight blonde hair, a high, almost pointed nose and a figure that wouldn’t look out of place in a Ralph magazine.
‘Just a middy, thanks,’ said Izzy, as she watched the barmaid push her hair back behind her ear with a perfectly manicured nail. Izzy noticed the guys at the pool table eyeing her off. They definitely weren’t here just for the beer. ‘Friends of yours?’ she asked. The barmaid plonked the beer in front of her, causing the white foamy head to spill over the glass.
‘Don’t mind them. They’re harmless. Bit too young for me, but that doesn’t stop them trying,’ she said, winking as she placed her hand on her hip. It was a simple move that almost looked seductive. ‘So, haven’t seen you around these parts before. You just passing through?’
Izzy sipped the top off her beer before answering. ‘Maybe. It all depends on whether I can find a job.’
‘What kind of work you after? There’s plenty going here. We could always use bar staff, and they need cleaners out the back in the hotel rooms.’
‘Nah. Sorry, not my kind of thing. I’m actually after farm work. Know anyone who needs a farmhand? I’m Izzy, by the way.’
‘Hi, Izzy. I’m Simone. Nice to meet you,’ she said, shaking Izzy’s outstretched hand. Simone turned and dragged over a stool, then sat down across from Izzy. ‘Hey, Ned, give me a holler when you want another one,’ she yelled, giving the old bloke a wave. ‘Ned’s one of our regulars. He’s here every day, same time, on the dot.’ Leaning on her elbow, she took in Izzy’s short dirty nails and rough hands. ‘Farm work, hey? Let me think. I know one farmer looking for a worker, but …’ She finished by screwing up her nose.
‘But what? Look, I’ll take anything at the moment.’
‘Well, you can try. I’ll give you his number.’ Simone paused, as the cogs ticked over in her brain. ‘No, better yet, I’ll take you out to see him if you like. It might
be harder for him to knock you back if he meets you face to face. Do you think you could hang around for a bit until my shift finishes?’ she asked, raising one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She was a girl who took extra effort in her appearance but underneath she was still a country girl at heart.
‘Hell, yeah. Especially if it could get me a job. Hey, thanks. I really appreciate it.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t met the guy,’ Simone replied cryptically.
‘You seem to know a lot about him,’ Izzy said, already halfway through her beer.
‘Well, I should do. He’s my father.’
‘Oh, I see.’ This could help, Izzy thought, wondering just what she could have done to be any luckier. ‘How much land does he have? Does he run sheep or cattle?’
‘Buggered if I know how big it is. It’s biggish, that’s for sure, and he has sheep. I don’t know too much about the farm. That’s my brother Blake’s thing, not mine. I’m quite happy to stay well away from it all,’ she said, wriggling her nose as if smelling fresh sheep poo.
‘Well, luckily I love it! So, what makes you think your dad won’t hire me?’ Izzy asked frankly.
‘The fact that you’re a girl would be the main thing. I’ve probably set a bad example. He reckons I’m useless, but the fact is I just gave up. I got sick of being told off ’cos I was stuffing it up or I was pushing the sheep the wrong way. I didn’t really like it much. Anyway, a girl has better things to do,’ said Simone, as she whipped out a nail file from thin air and began fiddling with her already perfect nails.
The doors behind Izzy flung open suddenly and three rowdy blokes strode in as if they owned the place. All were in shorts and thongs and had moved their sunnies to the tops of their heads. Young farmers from around the district, she figured.
‘I guess the footy meeting’s over. Excuse me. I’d better get ready. You might want to sit over by the window – we’re about to be inundated with testosterone.’ Simone nodded to the little tables and stools by the window as four more fellas burst through the door.
Grabbing her cash and her beer, Izzy retreated to the back tables and settled in just as more rowdy males entered. It was a meat market.
Izzy saw Simone talking to a tall bloke, who was in great shape, and then nodding in Izzy’s direction. Ducking her head, she pretended she hadn’t noticed they were talking about her, but when she lifted her head, she saw the guy was coming her way.
‘Oh, no,’ she groaned. The last thing she needed was male attention, especially from one as well-dressed as him. His Billabong surf shorts hugged his toned behind to perfection, his white dress shirt with silver detailed writing on the back brought out his deep tan, and every hair on his head was in its right spot. This guy definitely liked to look good.
‘G’day. How you going?’ he asked, before nodding towards the bar. ‘Simone told me you might need some company for a few hours.’ He smiled and the room just about radiated with light, but not even this fetching man could interest her heart now. It would take an eternity to forget Will, and maybe then some. She thought it was best to set this poor bloke straight and save them both the embarrassment later.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested. Feel free to sit if you just want someone to talk to,’ she said, half expecting him to turn away, but he just stood there with a funny expression on his face, which caused her to bumble on. ‘It’s not like you’re not good-looking or anything. I mean, you’re probably a great guy, but I’ve just hit a bad patch in my life right now …’ Izzy could feel the blood rising in her cheeks as words spewed from her mouth. She really was making a mess of it.
‘It’s just as well that I’m not interested in you either,’ he replied matter-of-factly, ignoring the flustered look on her face. ‘Do you mind if I sit?’
His smooth brown chest was exposed by his unbuttoned shirt, and Izzy couldn’t help but be reminded of Will. The thought held her preoccupied for a moment as the man sat down. To think just days ago she’d been nestled against Will, breathing in his scent and enjoying his warmth.
Eventually the stranger’s words sank in and she looked up, startled and a little relieved. ‘No, go ahead. Actually I’d enjoy some company. I’m Izzy.’
‘Most people call me Mac. Nice to meet you, Izzy,’ he said, shaking her hand firmly. His eyes went to her brown and callused hands. ‘So, Simo said you’re new in town. Where’ve you come from?’
‘A small town south of here by about seven hundred kilometres called Pingaring.’ She knew he probably wouldn’t have heard of it. ‘It’s just past Wave Rock, near Hyden,’ she added.
‘Oh, yeah. I’m with you now. That’s a bloody long way away. What brings you here?’
Izzy sighed and told him the truth. She’d been without company for the last couple of days and was longing to talk. ‘Family problems. I’m cursed with an old-fashioned father who won’t let me work on our farm. It’s a long story.’
Mac watched her closely. Her eyes held so much pain and he could tell she was holding back. When Simone had asked him to keep her company, he hadn’t minded helping out. Besides, he’d just spent two hours with the boys, supposedly talking about their footy club, but he’d ended up hearing more about their weekend exploits, in graphic detail. He’d had about enough of that lot. And this newcomer looked intriguing. She wasn’t dressed for the pub like the girls he knew. She wore jeans, a pair of work boots and no make-up, but the most amazing thing was that the moment he’d started talking to her, he’d felt the weirdest pull and knew he’d like her straight off. Already he was entranced.
‘Well, I have a couple of hours to spare. Will that be long enough? Come on, I’m all ears,’ he prompted. ‘It’s not every day you get to meet a new person in this town.’
Mac seemed so genuine and not a bit like the blokes at the bar who were talking loudly and spilling beer on the floor already. ‘You sure you wouldn’t rather be with your mates?’ she said as she watched the large crowd of beefy males clowning around.
Mac slowly shook his head. ‘No. Believe me, I need a break from them. It gets a bit boring talking about chicks and footy all the time.’ Rolling his hand he motioned for her to begin her story.
For the first time in a while, or maybe ever, Izzy completely spilled her guts. She started right back with Claire’s death and ended with her hasty departure from the farm. She left nothing out. There was something about Mac that kept her talking, or maybe she just needed someone to open up to so badly and he was as good as any. He gently encouraged her with the right nods and expressions just when she needed them. Normally she wasn’t one to share her problems, especially with a stranger, but he was the perfect listener. Maybe a stranger was what she needed – everyone else was too close to the problems.
‘No wonder you don’t want any male attention. Will sounds interesting,’ he said at last with a heart-warming smile.
Almost an hour had passed and the noise level had increased dramatically. The pub was now bursting with patrons, and occasionally the boys from the bar wandered over to Mac and tried to get him to join them or hounded him about being with a girl.
‘Come on, Macca. You gonna join us? Our fearless team captain.’
Mac just smiled. ‘Nah, Jacko. I’m gonna see enough of you blokes during footy season. Count me out tonight.’ Jacko shrugged his wide shoulders and headed back to the bar, but not before giving Izzy the once-over.
‘Hey, you wanna come and sit outside, get some fresh air?’ Mac asked.
‘Sounds like a great idea,’ Izzy replied, downing her third beer. But suddenly she began to question his motives again. After all, she hardly knew the bloke.
As they squished their way to the door, a cheer went up and the rowdy males began chanting ‘Mac, Mac, Mac’ as he headed outside with a gorgeous girl by his side.
‘Taking her to ya ute, hey, Macca!’ said one as he grinded away on an imaginary girl. ‘Gunna give her a bit of this?’
Izzy turned to the bloke at the bar
and pointed. ‘Your fly’s undone and from what I can see it’s just not all there,’ she said, wriggling her little finger. She saw him look down and then heard a roar of laughter as she followed Mac into the cool breeze outside.
‘Burn!’ said Mac laughing. ‘Hell, I like you even more now.’ He draped his arm over her shoulder.
Turning to Mac, still not entirely sure of him, she asked, ‘Hey, you sure you’re not trying to get me in the sack?’
He guided her around the corner of the pub to a seat near the back wall, and motioned for her to sit. ‘No, I’m not. I’m afraid you’re just not my type,’ he said in almost a whisper.
‘And why not?’ she asked in mock indignation.
‘Let’s just say I think your Will sounds pretty hot.’
‘Oh, I see,’ answered Izzy, the penny finally dropping. ‘But the blokes in there thought we were … so … They don’t know, do they?’ she asked.
‘Hell, no, and I’d rather it stayed that way. Could you imagine if they found out their team captain was gay? You know what these guys are like. I probably wouldn’t live to tell anyone.’
Mac shook his head with resignation and Izzy said, ‘Maybe it’s time you told me your story.’
Mac shrugged. Izzy touched his arm and said, ‘It doesn’t worry me one bit,’ she said, giving his arm a squeeze. ‘It takes a lot of guts to live with a secret, and even bigger guts to share it with someone. I’m a stranger in town who’s not about to judge. Is that why you told me?’
Mac just raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t really know. Maybe it’s because you’re an out-of-towner, but I guess I feel comfortable with you. I haven’t even told my own sister. It’s just nice to have a conversation with a girl who isn’t trying to flirt with me. And I can already sense similarities between us. We both want things that aren’t considered “normal”,’ Mac said, making inverted commas with his fingers in the air.
Family Farm Page 24