by Jane Abbott
But it wasn’t over, was it? He recalled his brother’s sudden rage in the shed; it was better that he dealt with Casey than if Michael did.
‘We’ll see,’ he told Jen, and saw her quick frown. ‘Come on, let’s get back to the house. There are chores to do before dinner.’ He poked her in the ribs. ‘By the way, you might want to lay off the potatoes at dinner. I think I sprained something getting you off the fence.’
Ignoring the joke, she shoved his shoulder. ‘And you might want to learn a little thing called flattery.’
‘Yeah, heard about that. Supposed to get you everywhere, right?’ He grinned. ‘No need, baby. Already been there.’
‘Not with me, you haven’t. No matter what anyone says.’ Spinning around, she stalked down the hill to the shed.
It’d sounded like a challenge but Gabe knew it wasn’t. Jen had just declared herself, and he had been put in his place.
Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss’d me,
Say I’m growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss’d me.
LEIGH HUNT, ‘Rondeau’
XV
Jenny didn’t return to the cottage but headed down into the garden instead. She was in no mood to go inside and make polite small talk, but she wasn’t ready to go home either. She switched off her phone. Out there was emptiness and silence and an enveloping darkness. And Gabe. He’d caught up to her and they walked together, a little apart. She hadn’t lied; she was angry – with him and at him and because of him. The one person she thought she could rely on had let her down and she was still struggling to understand why.
‘So what is going on with them? I think you owe me that much.’ Then she added, ‘And it’d better be good.’
Gabe looked up at the thick blanket of clouds and, blowing out a loud sigh, pushed his hair off his face. For the first time, Jenny felt a small frisson of fear, deep and cold, but before she could tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to tell her, he said, ‘I know why Michael can do what he does. And I know about Cait too.’
‘What do you know?’ she asked, her voice low.
‘I can’t tell you, Jen. Not yet, anyway. I’m sorry.’
‘Why not?’ she demanded, and Gabe sighed again.
‘Because it’s too dangerous. Casey’s had a go at you twice now. I think the less you know, the safer you’ll be.’
‘You mean the safer they’ll be,’ she muttered.
‘I don’t think they’ll ever be safe. I don’t think they’re meant to be. But if I can at least keep you safe, then I will.’
‘Well, you haven’t done a great job so far, Gabe.’ He looked so defeated and so dejected and nothing like himself that, for a split second, she wished she could take it back. ‘Fine. Keep your secrets. I won’t ask any more.’
‘Don’t worry. You might not have to.’ At her questioning look, he said, ‘You’ll see what I mean at dinner.’
He was right. Michael and Caitlin didn’t sit next to each other as she expected, but opposite, with Michael next to Gabe, Caitlin beside Jenny. The two of them were relaxed and happy and, knowing why, Jenny felt a rush of spite, but when she looked across at Gabe, he was smiling at her. He talked easily to everyone, his earlier anguish gone. The mood was different to Friday’s lunch, noisier and more of a family gathering. Even Jim joined in occasionally as he ploughed through his meal. But though Michael bantered with Gabe, and even tried to engage Jenny with a question or two, Caitlin said little, except to ask Jenny to pass the vegetables or the jug of water. She kept her eyes down, and Jenny wondered if she was the only one to notice. Then, a single softly spoken word from Michael, and Caitlin glanced up at him.
Mid-sentence, Barb picked up her napkin and started fanning herself with it. The temperature in the small room had flared, as though a huge fire blazed, and Jenny felt herself heat up from the inside. Bewildered, she watched Michael stare at Caitlin. His eyes were molten, burning black coals, hungry and passionate, and she realised the heat was coming from him in waves that washed through them all. And with the heat came a sudden yearning, a deep longing for something just out of reach, that Jenny could almost see, something she knew she could grasp if only she had enough time. Jim smiled at his wife and took her hand, squeezing it gently. Jenny glanced at Gabe and he looked back at her and she wondered whether he was feeling what she felt, if he wanted what she desperately craved.
Then Caitlin dropped her gaze again, and it was over. The room cooled as quickly as it had warmed. Barb replaced her napkin and Jim resumed eating, his display of affection past. But Gabe kept staring at Jenny.
‘Okay, I get it,’ she told him after dinner. They were sitting on the verandah, draped in blankets and drinking coffee.
‘Now you can see why I’m so worried,’ he said. ‘Imagine that happening at school or in the supermarket or anywhere public. Then add to it everything else he can do, and it’s a recipe for disaster.’
‘There’s always homeschooling,’ she joked, but Gabe didn’t laugh. ‘Can’t you talk to him, try to get him to control his … urges?’
‘I have, but I don’t think it’s something he can just turn on and off. And the problem is, it’s getting more intense. A few days ago we didn’t even notice it, but now it’s every time they’re together.’
‘Maybe they can keep away from each other. Change classes, change schools …?’ Jenny faltered, already seeing the problem. ‘Or maybe it’ll burn out, like a fire.’
‘Trouble is, fires have a habit of flaring up again. When you least expect it,’ Gabe said.
‘But Jim and Barb didn’t seem to notice anything. I mean, they did, but they didn’t ask how or why.’ She thought of the tenderness she’d seen between them. ‘Maybe it’ll be like that with everyone else.’
‘What if that’s because of who they are? What if these feelings Michael and Cait give out kind of amplify what’s already there? If there’s love, then it grows. If it’s hate, then it gets a whole lot worse.’ He paused, staring at her. ‘What if it’s already happening?’
Remembering the burning heat in the dining room, Jenny pulled the blanket around her and watched Gabe sip his coffee. It was unsettling to see him so uncertain. He’d always seemed sure and strong. She remembered the feel of his arms around her up at the yard, like bands of iron, protecting her, the touch of his lips on her hair, and she felt herself grow warm. She remembered how he’d stared at her across the dinner table, when Michael’s longing had overwhelmed them and she’d wished, for just a moment, that she and Gabe were what people thought they were. She remembered, and she couldn’t help feeling annoyed because she also knew she wasn’t ready to forgive him.
‘What did you feel when it happened?’ she asked.
He took his time answering. ‘Hot.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Pretty much. You?’ His tone was casual, and she shrugged with equal indifference.
‘Same. Just really hot.’
‘Good,’ he said, throwing off his blanket. He stood and held out his hand. ‘Then let’s go back to town.’
‘But it’s only eight o’clock,’ Jenny protested. She didn’t want to go home any more than she’d wanted to come to the farm in the first place. Once again, he was overriding her and she felt her hackles rising. ‘I haven’t even finished my coffee.’
‘Will you stop arguing for once? Come on.’
She stood and thrust her cup at him. ‘You know, your hosting skills could do with a little work.’
He took the mug and the blankets and went inside while Jenny trailed behind, dread welling inside her. She said goodbye to Barb, and to Jim, who barely acknowledged her. Michael and Cait had already disappeared.
The ride back was much like the ride there, silent as she brooded. Gabe seemed preoccupied and she was in too much of a bad mood to ask what he was thinking.
‘You’ve missed my street,’ she said, when they passed the town hall and then the library.
‘Then where are we going?’ She wasn’t prepared for any more surprises, and the strange feelings she’d experienced at dinner had well and truly gone. ‘Are you kidnapping me now?’
He sighed. ‘Stop being such a bloody drama queen. We’re going to a party.’
‘Justin’s party? Are you serious? I can’t go there!’ Not after the disaster at Paul’s, and especially not now.
‘You know about it?’ Gabe didn’t hide his surprise.
‘I might be the town pariah, but I’m not deaf. They were talking about it before school broke up. I’m not going.’
‘Yeah, you are. With me. The damage is already done, right? It can’t get any worse.’
‘So this is a pity date?’ Her tone was scathing. ‘I’d rather go home.’
‘You know, sometimes it’s hard to feel pity for anyone who carries on the way you do,’ he snapped. ‘As for a date – in your dreams, Jen.’
She might’ve deserved it but she hated how it hurt. A hundred retorts came to mind, but in the end all she managed was: ‘I’m not dressed for a party.’
They pulled up and, switching off the engine, Gabe glanced across at her. ‘You look fine to me. A couple of hours tops, I promise. Then we’ll leave.’
Jenny stared at the brightly lit house. Even from inside the ute she could hear the thud of music, and there were people on the front lawn grouped around an open fire. She couldn’t believe he was making her do this.
‘I can’t, Gabe. I can’t face them,’ she moaned. ‘They hate me. You don’t know what it’s like.’
He softened. ‘Then let’s see if we can make them hate me too.’ But before she could ask what he meant, he was out of the ute and opening her door, holding out his hand. ‘You can do this. Face them head on, and I’ll be with you the whole time.’
‘Is that what this is about?’ she asked, as he pulled her across the road. ‘Because I think I’d rather the pity date.’
‘That’s all this is about,’ he told her, and then they were there and people were greeting him like some returning hero while she stood in his shadow, prepared to be ignored. He put his arm around her and drew her into the circle. Most stared and some muttered, but Jenny found herself, if not accepted, at least tolerated. In the same way you tolerate a friend who’s brought their smelly, flea-ridden dog to your house, she thought.
They moved inside, Gabe hunting for drinks, but he kept her with him, his arm around her. They peeled off jackets and jumpers, dumping them on a chair. He handed her a cooler, opened a beer for himself and they lounged side by side against the kitchen bench. It wasn’t like the McIntyre party, or even that afternoon at Paul’s, but more like the parties she’d been to in Melbourne, with the house overrun, music pumping, people dancing and yelling to be heard, the place already smelling like an old pub. At some point the neighbours would complain, people would throw up in the garden (just as she had done a week ago), make use of beds and pass out on sofas, but the night was still young. There were some faces she recognised from school, many she didn’t. And not all were friendly, particularly the girls.
‘Shouldn’t you go and mingle or something?’ she asked Gabe.
He shrugged. ‘Why?’
She soon understood. People found him, not the other way around. Friends came up and they joked and laughed, and none of them seemed surprised to see her. One guy, Steve, made a few jokes about knives in her back, and even Jenny laughed. Buzz and Emma drifted into the kitchen, and after a few minutes Emma pulled Jenny to one side, under Gabe’s watchful eye.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked.
Jenny had liked her the few times they’d met at the waterhole and after, at school, but Emma had never extended any kind of friendship beyond that, and Jenny had been too preoccupied with Michael to care.
‘I’m sorry. I should’ve called you when all this blew up. The Gabe Brigade can be a bit overwhelming.’
‘No kidding. Good name for them, by the way.’ Jenny had some better ones; none of them she could say in public.
Emma smiled and looked across at Gabe. ‘It’ll calm down. He’s made it pretty obvious how he feels, and they adore him much more than they hate you.’
Which was exactly what Gabe had said about Michael and Casey, back at school, in the very beginning. It’s just a matter of degree. Emma might’ve been trying to comfort, but with her careless words she’d gone and tossed Jenny into the loser bin alongside Casey. And as for how Gabe really felt, Emma had no idea. No one did, all of them fooled.
At one point Jenny was surprised by a tap on her shoulder and she turned to face Sophie; her smile was weak and tentative.
‘Thanks for helping out last week,’ Gabe told her.
‘That’s okay,’ she replied, then said to Jenny, ‘I’m sorry about what’s happening. I haven’t –’
‘Yeah, I know. Thanks.’ Sophie hadn’t joined the ranks of haters. She hadn’t messaged filthy words, and for that Jenny was grateful.
‘Let me know if you need anything, okay?’ Sophie said, and sidled away. Jenny glanced at Gabe; he was smiling.
As people came and went, a few asked after Michael, but when no one mentioned Caitlin, Gabe began to relax. Jenny wished she could do the same as she tried to ignore the whispers and disapproving stares that pricked like pins. If Gabe had wanted to cause a sensation, he’d done a bang-up job.
Paul appeared, and Jenny wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Of course he’d be there! But when she apologised for her behaviour the week before, he waved it off. ‘Don’t worry about it. You’re lucky you left when you did. Things got a lot worse later on.’
Jenny didn’t ask for details. She pointed to Paul’s T-shirt. Its slogan was still visible from under his jacket: Two heads are better than one.
‘I like your T-shirt,’ she said. ‘And the other one last week. The peace one.’
Paul grinned. ‘I make them myself, to sell down at the markets. Tourists seem to like them.’
‘They’re really good,’ she said, warming to him. ‘Clever.’
He gave her a wink and, turning, shrugged off his jacket.
She stared at the picture on his back – two stick figures embraced in a sixty-nine. ‘Still clever,’ she managed.
Paul laughed at her expression. ‘Yeah, my mum hates this one too. But it’s my biggest seller.’ He swigged from the beer in his hand. ‘So, you and Gabe, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised.’ He was staring at her, sizing her up, and Jenny realised he was imagining that photo, the one she hadn’t seen. She felt her face redden.
‘You okay?’ Gabe was beside her again.
The weight of his arm across her shoulders annoyed her and she shrugged it off. ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the markets and buy a few of your T-shirts,’ she said to Paul.
He grinned again, and the photo was forgotten. ‘You should. I’ve got some great ones. Better than this.’ He nodded at Gabe. ‘Maybe you can drag him along too. Still hasn’t bought one, the cheap bastard.’
‘At those prices?’ said Gabe. ‘Got better things to do with my money, mate.’
‘One day they’ll be collector’s items. Then you’ll be sorry.’
Gabe laughed. ‘Reckon I’ll cope.’
After a few more minutes, Paul moved on. But Jenny was given no time to relax; the one voice she’d been dreading more than any other sounded behind her.
‘Hey, Ping-Pong.’ It was the Captain of the Gabe Brigade.
Gritting her teeth, Jenny turned. Of course, Kylie wasn’t alone. Alanna and Clare were there and they pressed around, as they had that day on the high street, closing in so she was forced to back into Gabe.
‘What are you doing here?’ Kylie said.
‘She’s with me,’ Gabe told her and, curling his arm around Jenny, pulled her even closer. He splayed his hand flat against her stomach and the tips of his fingers edged under the top of her jeans, touching her skin. It was intimate and assertive a
nd Jenny wanted to smack it away. But she didn’t, because seeing the look on Kylie’s face almost made it worth having to suffer his embrace.
‘Kathy’s here, you know,’ Kylie said.
‘So?’ Gabe replied.
‘Just saying.’
‘From what I hear, you’ve said plenty already.’
Kylie pouted, her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘So does Michael know you two are here?’
Clare piped up then, right on cue. ‘Don’t be silly, Kyles. Michael’s busy with other things. Remember?’
Jenny felt the quick thump of Gabe’s heart between her shoulderblades. His hand moved then, sliding up under her T-shirt, rubbing across her stomach and ribs, and he bent his head and nuzzled her ear, brushing the tip of it with his lips. She couldn’t see him, but the girls’ faces said it all, and the subject of Michael was cast aside.
‘A few weeks, Ping-Pong,’ Kylie hissed, and they all stormed off.
Jenny pushed away from Gabe, but his arm tightened. ‘No, not yet,’ he whispered. His breath tickled and she couldn’t help squirming. People were turning to stare now, and she blushed again, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed or just angry. His hand was warm and he kept his mouth close, and she felt a quick tightening inside, remembering the dinner. The feelings were returning a hundredfold.
‘I think they’ve got the idea,’ she muttered, and this time he let her go. ‘Thanks a lot! I thought you were trying to help, not make it worse. I can’t even deny anything now. My reputation’s completely shot.’
‘Good thing we buried it then.’ He laughed. ‘Oh, come on. They deserved it. Besides, you’re safe here with me.’
‘That’s great, Gabe. And next time, when they’re having a go at me in town or at school, where will you be?’
He eyed her, bemused. ‘They won’t. Not now.’
‘And of course, now they’re not talking about Michael any more, are they?’ she pointed out.
He frowned. ‘That too.’
‘I can’t believe you used me like that,’ she said. ‘Haven’t you done enough?’