‘Oh no.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she okay? God, she must be freaking out.’
‘I haven’t actually spoken to her since she spoke to Doctor Squire. All hell broke loose yesterday, apparently. She went in really early to talk to him …’
‘Hang on. How do you know if you haven’t spoken to Jacqueline?’
‘Because Doctor Squire, John, came to me.’ Ethel puffed up ever so slightly with pride. ‘He rang and asked me to pop around last night on the quiet.’
‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea to be discussing Jacqueline behind her back like that.’
‘No, no, it’s not like that. Hear me out. He asked me to ask you if you would write a letter of support for Jacqueline, indicating you are not adversely affected by the brief relationship, that you haven’t actually had sexual relations …’
‘What? Now steady on. That’s a bit bloody personal, don’t you think?’ he said, feeling the heat begin to creep up his neck.
‘Now is not the time to get all coy, Damien. Jacqueline’s whole career is at stake.’
Damien had the selfish thought that if it had come to this anyway, he could have been enjoying being with her all this time. God, what a bloody waste.
‘Right. Got it. When does it need to be done by?’
‘In the post no later than Tuesday. He’s going to see her again first thing Friday morning. He said he doesn’t want her having the time to stew on it too much. Oh, and we’re keeping all this on the quiet.’
‘I don’t know …’
‘It’s not me, Damien. It’s on the advice of Doctor Squire, and I wasn’t about to argue. If anyone knows what they’re doing, it’s him.’
‘Hang on. Why didn’t he call me himself?’
‘He didn’t want you getting worried about being called in to see him – like you were being called up before the headmaster for being in trouble, or something. Here’s the reference number for her case you need to include,’ she said, handing over a scrap of paper with a four-digit number scribbled on it.
‘Okay. Fair enough.’ Damien was glad for the doctor’s sensitivity. That would have been exactly how he would have felt. He probably would have become a nervous wreck and more than likely put off turning up to see the good doctor at all.
‘I’m thinking a letter of support from the local constabulary, Apex and CFS wouldn’t go astray, either.’
‘I can do that. I’ll be seeing those blokes tonight.’
‘Good. I’m going to do a ring around – CWA, church groups. Just make sure you give everyone the reference number and make sure they understand how important it is, and when it needs to be sent by. And that it needs to be kept on the down low.’
Damien almost smiled at seeing how animated Ethel was becoming. There was that light in her eyes that had disappeared for a bit. He would have ribbed her about it if this wasn’t so serious, didn’t involve Jacqueline.
‘Hey, we could do a petition via Facebook,’ he said, becoming a little excited himself. ‘I know we don’t have long, but do you think it’d be worth a shot?’
‘I don’t know. We don’t have long. And we need to keep this quiet. Jacqueline wouldn’t like a fuss and won’t …’
‘She’s not on Facebook.’
‘Really? Even I’m on Facebook!’
‘Since when?’
‘Oh, the other day. Madge, Doris and Janet insisted. Apparently Nancy Squire is too, so I thought, what the hell? Are you sure she’s not on it and won’t see what we’re up to?’
‘Positive. I’ve searched for her.’ Damien was a little embarrassed. There was no way he’d own up to just how much time he’d spent searching, trying to cyber-stalk Jacqueline. She was on LinkedIn, but that was all he’d been able to find. He wondered if she had a particular objection to Facebook and Twitter or if she just hadn’t been interested enough to get involved in the more social sites. Would it bother her if they put something up about her on Facebook? Even if it did, she’d appreciate it was for the right reason, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t too proud to accept help, was she? And she was on LinkedIn, so it wasn’t as if she had a serious aversion to having an online presence – that’s what it was called, wasn’t it? Fancy all the local wrinklies being into it. He’d better send Auntie Ethel a friend request and keep an eye on her!
‘I’ll have to have a think about Facebook,’ Ethel mused. ‘But in the meantime, you’re clear with what you need to do?’
‘Yep. Write a letter of support and get some others to, but keep it quiet. Got it,’ Damien said.
‘Because I don’t need to tell you how important this is.’
‘No, you don’t.’
Chapter Fifteen
When Rob and Cecile picked Jacqueline up that evening she was more nervous than usual about her talk. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what to say, but she did feel a little rushed after only having been approached that morning. She couldn’t exactly refuse the request – the head of the CFS had practically begged her. He said he was seriously concerned that yesterday’s destructive blaze, coming so soon after the recent loss of the McAllister house, might be the straw to break his team’s back. How was he to know she was dealing with her own disaster? She certainly hoped word hadn’t got around – and wouldn’t. Her mind was still processing the surprising turn her conversation with Doctor Squire had taken and she was feeling quite disconcerted about her life. It didn’t help that she’d be seeing Damien in person – and in public – for the first time since their break-up.
If she’d been the one who’d ended things between them, she might have gone across the road to Ethel’s, where his ute was parked, and made sure the air was clear. But it wasn’t her call, it was his. She was a little hurt that he was so close yet apparently so far away, even though she understood – well, she was trying to. If only he wasn’t going to be there tonight, but the universe wouldn’t let her off the hook that easily.
As she walked with Rob and Cecile from the car to the brightly lit shed carrying the plates of food Cecile had prepared, Jacqueline told herself that she would put her predicament out of her mind for a few hours and focus on helping the community she was now part of, like Damien would want her to. Anyway, she might need this night to go well so as to insulate her against her clients drying up if word did get out about her blunder. Determined to be sociable and enjoy being out of the house, she pushed the negativity away and focussed on having a smile on her face when she entered the shed.
Keith Stevens hugged her so tightly she thought she might run out of air, but she was grateful to be so enthusiastically welcomed. He introduced her around and made sure she knew plenty of people. She felt welcome, not too much of an outsider, and didn’t get the impression people were talking about her behind her back – you could always tell.
As she turned to take in the crowd to see who else she knew, she caught sight of Damien in the far corner, talking in a small group. Not wanting things to be awkward between them, she raised a hand in friendly greeting. He either didn’t see her or he deliberately avoided making eye contact: instead of returning her smile and gesture, he turned away and raised his beer bottle to his lips. She felt a surge of disappointment the likes of which she didn’t think herself capable.
Keith had her speak before they enjoyed their barbecue, joking that it was the only way they’d get the group to listen. She made a mental note to keep things even briefer than usual – hungry people were rarely an attentive audience.
Her part of proceedings seemed to go well. She kept her head, remained focussed, and spoke confidently. The restless, almost bored-looking expressions of her audience appeared to grow into understanding, a look that flowed right across the large space. She urged people to talk to each other, explore their feelings, and share them with their loved ones, their mates, their colleagues.
‘Everyone reacts differently to each situation. Everyone feels differently afterwards. For some people the grief, guilt, sadness and fear hits straightaway
. For others it can happen slowly, over quite a long period of time. And for others still it can hit later, but hard, like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. There are no rules. You feel what you feel, when you feel it. But it’s important that if you don’t like what you feel or if it’s having a negative impact on your life, then it’s important to get some professional help. Sometimes just knowing you’re not going crazy and what you’re feeling is completely normal, and being experienced by others, is all the help you need.
‘Partners can sometimes be affected almost as much by what you’ve seen and been through,’ she continued, ‘even if they weren’t there. Often our moods and behaviour change when we have a lot on our minds. And quite often we don’t see the changes because we’re too close to the situation or we think we’re doing a great job of behaving normally, carrying on as usual. So it’s important to gauge the reactions of those around you, listen to their feedback. Even if it seems like criticism, and you don’t want to hear it. Be careful not to shut people out and think you can deal with these things on your own – you don’t need to. Just remember, there is help available and, as my favourite saying goes, a problem shared is a problem halved. There’s no shame in saying, “You know what, I’m not sure what’s going in my head, but I don’t feel quite right. And I don’t like it.” Even if you don’t want to come and talk to me or another professional – a conversation that would be entirely confidential – talking to someone, anyone, will help. It’s not about burdening them. In my experience, people genuinely want to help. And by listening, they are helping.’
There were plenty of thoughtful expressions and heads nodding among the crowd. And when she finished and was walking to her chair amid rowdy applause, there seemed to be a lot of animated chatter going on between audience members.
After the debrief was complete, she joined them for a wonderful barbecue meal that was a far cry from the sausages in white sliced bread covered with onions and tomato sauce she’d been expecting. There were baskets of what looked like homemade sourdough rolls and more interesting and delicious-looking salads than she would ever have imagined. She tried to sample so many she ended up with her plate heaped embarrassingly high. But she’d eaten everything and then lined up for dessert – another fine-looking spread, as Ethel would say. Again she’d ended up with a rather full plate. And to make matters worse, when she turned away from the table, she almost upended it into the chest of the man who’d been standing right behind her. The gorgeous man who’d been standing right behind her. Jacqueline had to forcibly stop herself from gasping. He had the longest lashes she’d ever seen above the deepest, darkest brown eyes, all highlighted by his fine dusting of even darker stubble. She almost dropped her plate.
‘Oops, careful there. You don’t want to lose that now you’ve done your gathering,’ he said jovially. He flashed her a brilliant smile while helping her to right her plate and avert disaster and embarrassment.
‘Sorry. I do seem to have quite a lot, don’t I?’ she said, forcing her gaze down to her plate. Did she really think she could eat custard slice as well as pieces of cheesecake and pavlova and a brandy snap? If only Ethel was here to get her a doggy bag. ‘There’s just too much choice,’ she said, blushing, despite praying she wouldn’t. Jacqueline’s gaze moved back up and locked on his eyes. Golly, he was tall. And golly, the man looked good in a uniform, even if it was yellow. If she’d got this close to Damien she’d have said the same about him, she thought, reality hitting and disappointment surging.
‘You’re allowed to come back for seconds, you know. Food is where the country folk really come into their own, I think.’
‘Oh, are you not from around here?’
‘Yes and no. Sorry, forgive me, I’m Paul. I’d shake your hand, but …’
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Jacqueline.’
‘Yes, I know. We all know,’ he said, grinning cheekily.
‘Oh. Of course. Silly me,’ she said, trying to laugh it off, but feeling the heat creeping up from between her breasts.
‘Sorry, that was cruel. I enjoyed your talk, by the way. You made a lot of sense. And I liked how down-to-earth you made it – not at all preachy.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
Now it was Paul’s turn to look embarrassed.
‘It’s okay, I know what you meant,’ she said, putting her left hand out and touching his arm. As she did, she noticed people were hovering nearby with empty plates, clearly attempting to not look impatient.
‘I seem to be holding up the works, I’d better get out of the way,’ she said. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Paul.’
‘Likewise. I’ll see you around, I hope,’ he said, flashing another dazzling smile before moving aside.
Jacqueline spent much of the evening feeling surprised at how she’d been sucked into the fold. She was sure the CFS crowd weren’t just being polite and reserved around her – she was really being welcomed. She’d been welcome at every other event she’d been to, but this somehow felt different – and had seemed different even from before her talk – she just couldn’t quite put her finger on how.
Later when Rob, Cecile and Jacqueline were preparing to leave, Paul appeared beside her.
‘It really was lovely to meet you, Jacqueline,’ he said, holding out his hand.
‘Yes, likewise, Paul. Lovely,’ she stammered, returning his handshake.
‘If you’d like to stay a little longer, I could give you a ride home,’ he offered.
‘Oh. Thanks very much, but I’d better get an early night.’ She wouldn’t have minded talking with him more, but while she’d enjoyed being distracted and sociable for a few hours, she was suddenly feeling very weary. She was thankful Rob had an early start in the morning – something to do with lambs, he’d said – and was keen to head off early.
‘Thanks, Paul, but we’ve got it. She came with us so we’ll see her home,’ Cecile said.
‘Okay. Well, goodnight then,’ he said.
As she alighted from Rob and Cecile’s car, Jacqueline sighed to herself at seeing Damien’s ute still at the kerb outside Ethel’s. All evening she’d longed to go up to him and ask how he was and get all the latest news on the joey and everything that was going on with Esperance. She wouldn’t have shared her latest news, but to be close to him might have provided some comfort. But whenever she’d thought she was getting closer to him she’d look up and he’d be on the other side of the big shed, talking to a different group. And as at the beginning of the evening, every time she thought she’d caught his gaze and smiled, he’d turn and be deep in conversation. It was probably for the best. They weren’t together. And her life was messy enough.
After waving Cecile and Rob off, but before putting her key in the door to her cottage, Jacqueline toyed with popping across the road to see Ethel. Damien was sure to still be at the CFS barbie. She wondered if Ethel had told Damien about the latest development. Probably. She wasn’t so keen on having her business discussed behind her back, but it saved her doing it. Anyway, she trusted Ethel and Damien to respect her.
She was still to tell her parents. She really wanted to tell them in person, but could see she’d have to resort to doing it over the phone – she couldn’t put it off any longer. Apparently the car was taking a little longer than anticipated so she wasn’t sure when they would be coming back.
Inside, Jacqueline found she suddenly wasn’t tired or in the least bit ready to go to bed. She thought of Paul and felt a little chuffed that a handsome man had shown an interest in her. Had he been flirting or just being friendly? Whatever it was, it had been quite nice. But what really had Jacqueline on a bit of a high now was feeling such a part of things and her presentation going down so well. She’d made it clear that she was happy to be part of any debriefs after major incidents or whenever the brigade captains or group captain thought she could add value. And she didn’t care about drumming up more business for the clinic. These people regularly put their lives on the line to save people’s properties, for no
pay and often when their own were at risk; the least she could do was contribute her expertise. She really was beginning to see how these small communities banded together to fight for a common cause. Of course she’d seen it in the news numerous times, but she harboured a healthy scepticism for the media and their ability to skew a story to suit their own needs. But to be a part of it, see it with her own eyes, feel it, was something else. She wasn’t kidding herself, knew deep down she wasn’t really a part of the community yet, was just being shown a courtesy, though a courtesy that perhaps ran deeper than before. Jacqueline was beginning to see how the country seeped into your soul when you weren’t looking. She’d come out here for a year to escape Jacob, but now she couldn’t see herself wanting to leave. And she hadn’t even been born and bred out here. She just wished she could share her epiphany with Damien. Though he would probably just look at her quizzically and say, ‘Well, yeah, I know.’ He did know. He had always known.
She’d tell her parents instead. But just as she picked up the phone and began dialling their number, it vibrated and rang. ‘Mum and Dad Home’ appeared on the screen.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, darling. How’s my favourite daughter?’ Philip Havelock said.
‘Dad, I’m your only daughter, only child, remember?’ Jacqueline said, rolling her eyes at their little ritual.
‘So, how’s things?’
‘You first. To what do I owe the pleasure of the call?’ It was a valid question. Her parents tended to be creatures of habit and usually only rang to say hi and for a catch-up chat on a Sunday evening.
‘Well, I have your new car out in the driveway. I think the dealer got sick of me asking and finally put the hard word on someone. We’re going to drive over with it on Saturday.’
‘Oh, that would be great. Thank you.’
‘We’ll only be able to stay for a few days – a week at most; we’re meant to be having the house painted, but the heat has upset things a bit. But we thought you should have your car, and we’d like to check up on Damien, and start looking at rental properties.’
Standing Strong Page 12