‘Well, there’s no need to introduce our feature artist to you two. Looks like you’ve already done it yourselves,’ said Alice Stringer.
‘Katrina . . . or Reyne . . . and I,’ said Travis in quiet, yet expressionless voice ‘already know each other.’
‘Really?’ said Alice sounding surprised. ‘Gosh, it’s a small world, isn’t it?’
‘You can say that again,’ muttered Travis, glancing around. Tammy watched as his eyes landed on Billy, who was playing in the corner of the room with a set of carved wooden trucks. His gaze seemed to soften slightly, then harden as he turned back to his former partner.
‘You haven’t met Tammy McCauley then?’ said Alice, oblivious to the tension in the small airspace between them. ‘She bought the set of prints I had of yours.’
‘Ah,’ said the artist, slightly inclining her head. Her gaze assessed Tammy from head to toe, and Tammy found she didn’t like the scrutiny one little bit. ‘The original paintings of those prints mean a great deal to me.’ Katrina’s gaze floated back towards Trav as if she wasn’t sure whether to go on. Trav wasn’t looking at Katrina, but Tammy could tell he was listening hard enough.
‘Reyne was telling me those paintings were what got her noticed,’ interjected Alice with a big smile. ‘We’re so lucky to have her here in Narree.’
Yep, real lucky, thought Tammy.
‘I suppose you’ll want to meet Billy?’ Trav said in a rough voice, interrupting Alice.
Katrina Jennings seemed shocked and a slim freckled hand came up to pull at the long ringlets. Her face flushed a bright pink.
‘I guess so,’ she said after a few moments, her eyes darting around the room until they came to rest on the little red-haired boy in the corner. The woman went perfectly still then let out a deep sigh. ‘Yes, I’d better, I suppose.’
She supposed? thought Tammy. She was looking at her son for the first time in eight years and she supposed she should meet him? What a crock of shit. But then again this was a woman who’d walked out on her partner and baby boy. What did Tammy expect?
Alice Stringer, finally sensing the tension, had hurriedly moved on to greet more guests coming through the gallery door. Travis was just standing there; Katrina was still gazing at Billy with a nervous frown.
‘I’ll go and catch up with the others,’ said Tammy. Travis barely nodded. Katrina didn’t respond.
She escaped towards Dean and Cin, who were discussing a painting. Tammy, listening with only half an ear, turned back to watch Travis and Katrina.
‘But, Dean, it really is a vase. I’m sure it is,’ said Cin.
‘No, you’re wrong, Cin. It’s a painted windmill. Look, see these bits here,’ said Dean and he touched the painting. ‘These are the blades, there’s the pump rod and that’s the crank shaft.’
‘You’re both wrong. It’s a cow,’ said Lucy, coming up from behind.
‘It can’t be a cow!’ said Dean. ‘A cow doesn’t have green and red all over its middle bits.’
‘It does if it’s gone down with bloat. Stick a knife in and there you have it, green fermented grass spewing out with blood.’
‘Oooo, that’s disgusting,’ squealed Cin.
‘What’s disgusting?’ asked Tammy, tuning into the discussion. Travis and Katrina were finally moving. She looked at the painting. Dropped her head this way and that, trying to work out what it was. ‘Yeah, that’s pretty awful. It looks like a cow down with bloat.’
‘It’s actually a representation of a mother giving birth,’ Alice Stringer explained as she passed by. ‘The green is indicative of new life and the red conjures up images of passionate love amid the conflicting emotions of having children.’
‘Could have fooled me,’ said Lucy, rolling her eyes. ‘I still think it’s a cow down with bloat.’
‘A vase.’
‘A windmill.’
‘Go ask the artist herself,’ said Tammy. ‘She’s with Travis.’
All of her friends turned as one to look at the dog trapper, who was fighting his way through the throng of people towards Billy, closely followed by his stunning redhead of an ex-wife.
Lucy grabbed hold of Tammy’s arm. ‘What’s wrong, Tim Tam?’
Tammy sighed. ‘Nothing . . . well . . . No, nothing.’
‘Don’t give me that shit.’
Tammy took a deep breath and levelled her gaze at her friend. ‘The feature artist is his former wife.’
Lucy and Dean looked blank. But Cin didn’t.
‘She’s Billy’s mother?’
All four of them turned towards the little boy, who was now sitting on a window seat in the far corner of the room. They could just hear his voice over the hum in the gallery.
‘Does Billy know she’s here?’ asked Cin.
Tammy shook her head. ‘Don’t think so. But I reckon he’s about to find out.’
‘What the hell?’ said Lucy.
‘And so, my friends, can you see the representation of motherhood now?’ Alice Stringer rejoined them, smiling broadly. ‘It’s an interesting manifestation, I do agree, but if one looks hard enough you might be able to see it, depending on your outlook on life at the moment.’
‘My outlook is fundamentally flawed,’ said Lucy, facing the painting again and shaking her head. ‘How the hell you can get anything from a bunch of blobs and brushstrokes like that is anyone’s guess.’
‘And you are?’ asked Alice.
‘Lucy. Lucy Granger.’
‘What a lovely name. My cat’s called Lucy.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Alice. ‘Susan – my partner – and I separated just before I moved up here. Lucy’s my best friend now, really.’
‘So you’re a lesbian?’ said Cin. ‘My sister’s one of those. And Lucy here’s thinking of becoming one.’
Tammy groaned. Oh my Lord. What a night this was turning out to be. ‘I’ll just go over and check Billy is okay.’
But what she saw across the room stopped her in her tracks. Trav was walking up to the child with Katrina. Billy’s mouth fell open, then closed and then opened again. The woman held out her hand to shake his. He looked wondering, amazed and pleased beyond words. Excitement suffused his whole face when Billy finally realised that here, at long last, was his mother.
Chapter 39
Travis wasn’t quite sure if he was in the middle of a dream or a nightmare.
Katrina was here. In Narree. After eight long and heartbreaking years, his ex-wife was standing in front of him. Reuniting now with her son. And the boy was looking like all his Christmases had come at once.
How he hated Katrina for that. Hated the fact his child was gazing up at her like she was an angel from God. What had she ever done to deserve such a look? Except to waltz out of their house one sunny afternoon, leaving her toddler asleep, and never come back. Now she was leaning down towards the boy, looking at the trucks he was excitedly showing her.
But all the while her eyes were darting to the left and the right, clearly seeking a way out.
Well, stuff her. She could wear it for a little while. Screw the fact this was her evening. Every night had been her night, while he and his mother had had to bring up her son on their own.
‘I can’t believe you’re really my mum,’ said Billy as he piled the trucks into her arms.
Katrina gave a brittle smile. The lift at the edges of her mouth didn’t quite marry with the dullness of her eyes.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am.’
‘So why’d you leave us?’ Ever straight to the point.
Katrina glanced at Trav in mute appeal.
He folded his arms. He sure as hell wasn’t going to help her out with that one.
‘Oh, Billy,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Some things just happen for a reason.’
‘And that would be?’ grou
nd out Trav.
Katrina frowned at him. ‘Now is not the time nor the place.’ She glanced around. ‘Oh, Alice is waving. She needs me. We’ll talk about this later.’ She turned to the child, who was still gazing up at her in mute appeal. ‘Nice to see you, Billy,’ and she walked off. The look in the boy’s eyes nearly broke Trav’s heart.
Billy turned to his father. ‘Go after her, Dad,’ he said. ‘Go get her and bring her back.’
‘Mate, I can’t do that!’
‘Why not? You were together once. You can try again.’
Hunter’s turn to sigh. ‘Billy. Things just don’t work like that.’
‘Why not?’ he said. ‘You loved her, didn’t you?’
‘Well, yes but –’
‘So you can love her again.’
‘No, Billy. And she doesn’t love me either.’ Trav was getting cranky now. He could hear Katrina’s laughter from across the room, like tinkling ivory keys on the upper end of the piano.
‘You okay?’ asked a voice by his side. Tammy.
He forced himself to smile and look into her eyes. They were a warm brown, like burnt caramel.
‘Trav?’ queried Tammy again.
‘I’m fine.’ He inwardly cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
Tammy recoiled like she’d been slapped.
‘That lady over there is my mother,’ interrupted Billy, jumping up and down in front of Tammy to get her attention. ‘See the one with all that lovely red hair?’ The boy then turned to his father. ‘You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful, Dad.’
No he hadn’t. He hadn’t told Billy a lot of things. The child didn’t know his mother had walked out of the house and left him lying there in his cot. Trav had always made out the separation had been relatively civilised.
‘She looks very pretty, Billy,’ said Tammy.
Yes,’ said the young boy with pride. ‘She’s really pretty.’ His eyes were glued to Katrina as she flitted from this group of people to that. Every now and then, she’d cast a glance in their direction, and Billy would wave. But Katrina would hurriedly turn back to concentrate on the discussion at hand.
Trav watched all this with growing concern.
‘Trav?’ It was Tammy again. She had a hand on his arm.
He shrugged it off, not sure why.
‘Sor-ry,’ said Tammy, offended.
Trav shook his head and sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Tammy. It’s just, Katrina –’
‘It’s okay.’ Although Trav could hear by her tone that it wasn’t.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘How about I get us all a drink?’
‘You and Tammy get a drink,’ said Billy. ‘I’m right, thanks.’ The boy’s eyes remained trained on his mother. ‘Really and truly right.’
‘Coming, Tammy?’ Trav started to move off towards the bar set up on a trestle table. ‘We’ll be back, Billy.’
The child just waved his hand and fled in the opposite direction. Towards Katrina, who was standing centre of attention in a knot of laughing people. Trav noticed him go, a frown on his face.
Tammy caught the look. ‘Trav, is there anything I can do?’
Why in the hell did women ask such an inane question at times like this? It just made him distance himself further.
‘There’s nothing.’ It came out as a snap. But his mind was on the little boy who was moving with intent towards his mother. How on earth could he have fallen in love with someone so self-obsessed as Katrina?
Billy’s mother was gorgeous. Stunning.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tammy observed the boy skulking around the edges of Katrina’s group. He was bobbing his head this way then that, obviously just trying to get the best view of his mum. You couldn’t blame the kid. All he’d ever wanted was his mother and now she was here. It was just a crying shame the mother so obviously didn’t give a rats about her son.
Hunter handed Tammy a glass of red wine. She couldn’t stand the stuff. She tried to look grateful, even went so far as to take a sip. Yuck. What to do? Spying a pot plant nearby, she made her excuses to Travis. He muttered a noncommittal response, his eyes still trained on Katrina and Billy.
Tammy couldn’t help but stare at Katrina Hunter a la Reyne Jennings either. She was clearly a free spirit, just like the angel-like sphinx she had painted. Tammy’s beautiful prints didn’t seem quite so beautiful now. The woman who created them had abandoned her whole family for the freedom they portrayed.
She wondered if she could sell the pictures.
Tammy watched as Billy stalked Katrina across the gallery. Warning bells started to sound in her mind. The child was desperate to be noticed and the woman was just as determined to ignore him. It wasn’t right. Someone was going to get hurt here, and Tammy suspected it wasn’t going to be Katrina. Why the hell wasn’t Hunter doing something? Surely he could see the look in his son’s eyes.
Tammy glanced surreptitiously across at Trav. She could see him watching it all play out, a drink to his lips, a frown on his face. In a matter of a night he’d turned back into a wild man and all it had taken was a bundle of red auburn curls and the spell they’d cast over his son.
Chapter 40
‘Why didn’t you ask Mum to come out to the farm?’
Billy’s tone was accusing, verging on belligerent. Trav had never heard his son speak like that before. They were walking towards the ute. Tammy was back in the gallery trying to find Lucy to say goodbye.
‘Didn’t think of it,’ he said, not entirely sure how to respond.
‘You don’t like her any more, do you? You don’t want her to be part of our family.’
‘It’s difficult.’
‘It’s not difficult.’ The child’s voice was scathing. ‘You just have to have a go. Old Joe’s always telling me that. Give it a go, a chance.’
Trav could have cheerfully throttled the old man. ‘Love’s not that simple, mate. Your mum and I . . .’ He paused, not sure how to put into words his feelings, especially to a child. ‘Well, let’s just say we’re too different.’
‘But, Dad, I’m different. Just ask the kids at school.’
‘That’s a different type of different, Billy.’
‘But how hard can it be to love someone you’ve loved before?’ protested Billy, his voice rising with anger.
Travis was at the ute now and feeling really pissed off. He wasn’t going to explain himself to an ten year-old, even it was his son. ‘Look, she’ll always be your mum. You can see her as much as you both want. But I’m not getting back with her, Billy. And that’s it.’
Billy came around the bonnet and stood in front of his father. Put his hand on the door to stop Trav from opening it. ‘Is it because of Tammy?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, Dad. You like her, don’t you?’
‘Of course I like Tammy. Don’t you?’ Trav paused then tried for a joke. ‘We don’t want a woman in our lives, Billy. They’re nothing but trouble.’
The boy stood up straight, his eyes flashing in the light from the gallery. ‘You’re wrong, Dad. Tammy’s looked after me and Katrina is my mother. My real mum. Just like the kids at school have got. I want my mum back, Dad. Plus, you owe me.’
Trav took a step back at the ferocity on Billy’s face. ‘I owe you? How do you figure that?’
Billy ducked his head for a second then looked back up. ‘You know why,’ he muttered before walking around to the passenger side of the ute, leaving Trav with shameful memories of just how lonely his kid had been – because of him.
Billy fell asleep on the drive back to McCauley’s Hill. Both Travis and Tammy sat out the journey in strained silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Travis was off in a world of his own, obviously thinking so hard there was a frown permanently etched into his face. The vibes coming off him were negative. Real negative.
As the vehicle pulled to a stop outside the Montmorency Downs homestead, the electric tension in the air ramped up till it could have rivalled a high-tensile powerline.
Tammy opened the door. Got out. Travis exited his side as well and came around the back of the vehicle. ‘Tammy. Look, I’m sorry, it’s just . . .’ Trav ran his hands through his hair. ‘Billy wants . . .’ His voice stumbled to a halt.
‘His mother?’ Tammy was trying hard to keep her voice even. ‘But what do you want, Trav? What do you want for you and your son?’
Trav said nothing, just leaned against the ute and folded his arms. Finally: ‘I don’t know what I want, Tammy.’ His voice was barely audible in the still night air. ‘Not Katrina. I mean, not as a partner or a wife or anything. But Billy wants to know his mother. What right have I to deny him that?’
‘You’ve got every right, Hunter.’ Tammy could hear her own voice rising. ‘She walked out on you both. Has never contacted you again. She forfeited her right to be his mother years ago.’
‘I owe my son his mother,’ said Trav, grinding the words out. She had never seen him so angry. ‘I’ve done little enough for the kid, I can at least . . . give . . . him . . . that.’
‘But, Travis. Can’t you see –?’
‘Billy wants his mother.’
‘He’ll get hurt –’
‘For fuck’s sake, surely you of all people can understand what’s driving the kid!’
Yes, she would have given anything to have known Natalie. Except death didn’t give you a choice. ‘She’s not interested. The way she treated him tonight . . .’ She stopped. Travis’s face was like thunder. But still she felt driven to make him see he needed to protect the child, not hand him over to be toyed with and then discarded. ‘Tonight, that child was desperate for his mother to pay attention to him – but she didn’t. She’s not interested in Billy, Travis. She’s a free spirit. And they hurt people who try to tie them to the ground.’
Travis didn’t respond at first, then his shoulders slumped and all the anger seemed to seep away.
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