Tonight they’d only managed to make their way through just under half of the huge bowlfull. Ethel joked that she’d be eating trifle until it came out of her ears.
‘Hey, why don’t you come to my place tomorrow night?’ Damien found himself blurting. Where the hell had that come from? ‘We could have the trifle for dessert. I can do a barbie. If the weather’s okay we can sit outside, but if not, I’m sure we’ll be able to squeeze around the table.’ He hadn’t really meant to, but the thought had come to him as the night was wrapping up.
Jacqueline was looking at him a little startled. Almost, perhaps, a little fearful. He was sorry about that. But now he’d seen her, been in such close proximity, the thought of not being near her stabbed him hard under his ribs.
‘You’d better invite your mum in that case,’ Ethel warned.
Mum? Oh shit. What’s the date? What’s the date tomorrow? He coloured again as he realised his blunder. Uh-oh.
‘What’s wrong?’ Philip asked.
Damien shifted in his seat. ‘Sorry, dinner’s off. And catching up in the morning might be cutting it a bit fine, Philip. Sorry, but I’ve just remembered I have to take Mum down to Lincoln to catch the plane. She’s off on her overseas trip.’ It was pushing it a bit to get to Lincoln and back, deal with the animals, and get all the food for a barbecue sorted in time. He’d be a wreck and probably not very good company.
‘Lucky you remembered in time,’ Ethel chided.
‘Oh well, next time. Do please wish her safe travels from us,’ Eileen said.
‘No problem at all. Best we leave it until you’ve got plenty of time to show me around. And, yes, please pass on our best,’ Philip said.
‘Do you want to leave the kittens with me, rather than drag them all the way down there and back?’
‘Oh, that would be great, thanks.’
‘And if you’re back in time and feeling up to it, you can come for tea and pick them up. But I’ll leave it entirely up to you.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
Conversation went on around him as Damien thought about how much nicer the one hour and twenty minute trip to the airport would be with Jacqueline in the car beside him. This separation was excruciating. What had he been thinking, believing he could do this?
He stood at the door with his aunt and saw the Havelocks off, putting on a brave face, but feeling his heart ache harder with each step Jacqueline took away from him. Then he bundled his animals into the ute, did a second headcount, waved to Ethel and drove away. For the first time in ages he felt really down and not at all like going home alone to his empty temporary house. Squish bumped his leg.
‘Yes, I’ve got you, Squish. And you, Jemima,’ he said as the roo leant over to copy Squish.
He had to pull himself together. He had a great life and was damned lucky. So what if he didn’t quite have the girl of his dreams? They were working on that. He just hoped Jacqueline still wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Chapter Nineteen
Jacqueline struggled to get to sleep that night. She tossed and turned in the small single bed in the spare room while the odd snore and rustle came from her parents in her room. She’d eaten too much, and was unable to get Damien out of her mind, and there was the shadow of her imploding career always lurking for when her defences were down. She’d even wondered if her few cancellations recently were the result of people having found out the truth about her, but she knew she had to keep that thought at bay or else it would consume her and destroy her fragile confidence.
If only she had Damien to confide in. While she missed holding him, she thought she missed his intellect and their conversations even more. Being so near to him at the dinner table but not being able to touch or talk properly had been excruciating. He’d looked tired and she hoped that was only from getting up to feed the kittens rather than the recent fire and loss of property bringing back painful memories. Was he putting on a brave front or was he really okay with it all? She’d heard how he’d saved a flock of valuable and much-loved chickens and she desperately wanted to tell him how impressed and proud of him she was. She was only mildly surprised that his actions hadn’t been singled out as part of the CFS debrief, or even tonight at dinner, but it could have been at Damien’s request – he was humble and didn’t crave the limelight. Jacqueline hadn’t wanted to embarrass him by bringing it up. She knew, if pressed, he’d say the people who mattered knew and to please leave it at that. The fact that the house and other property had been lost didn’t help – he might consider his victory small in the scheme of things and feel uneasy about not being there to at least try to save the house. She knew the firies were all gutted by the result. She’d learnt how rarely such losses happened and how hard they hit the volunteers. Twice in one season was almost unheard of, so it must be utterly gut-wrenching for them. She hoped they saw value and felt some comfort in her being involved.
At least she knew Damien was listening to his intuition more and following his instincts. That helped ease her mind a bit, but she was still worried about him. Several times she thought about saying ‘screw this’, and getting dressed, and heading out to see him. She had a car now and could be spontaneous. But she was always brought back to the same point: he had ended things with her for the good of the community and she had to continue to respect that. And there was Doctor Squire to consider – he was putting his reputation on the line to help her too. Giving up, not fighting for her job and her career, wouldn’t get her anywhere. And Damien clearly wasn’t prepared to have a clandestine relationship with her and put her more at risk; he had too much integrity for that. Jacqueline thought she did too and was surprised by the strength of her feelings and thoughts in favour of doing the wrong thing. Was it lust? Was what she had with Damien just a passing infatuation? If so, why was she craving just spending time with him? She’d have loved nothing more than to spend a few hours sitting beside him in the ute, driving to Port Lincoln and back. Even having to spend half the journey beside Tina would have been worth it.
Jacqueline finally fell asleep still feeling disappointed about being separated from Damien, but very grateful for having her parents in the next room. It would be so nice to be mothered for a few days, and that was something Eileen was very good at.
*
As Jacqueline followed her parents into the third nondescript, cream brick, late-seventies house, she thought about Damien. She longed to sit with him and feed and play with the tiny kittens, and Jemima, Squish, Bob and Cara, rather than spend time travelling around with her parents. Jacqueline felt like a hanger-on, despite doing the driving. Here she was, going through rental properties, knowing full well she might be moving back in with her parents. It meant she couldn’t be totally objective; she looked at each place for her own needs. A few times she’d almost asked her parents if perhaps they should reconsider their move now her circumstances might be changing. After all, why would they move all the way out here if she was just going to end up back in the city? It was clear from the number of unemployed clients she had that jobs were few and far between. It was a town with only one hotel, one bakery, an insurance broker, a hardware store – there weren’t many employers, full stop. But she had to remind herself it wasn’t all about her, her parents had their own lives to lead. She felt like a petulant teenager at the thought that despite her crisis nothing had changed with them. But she was adult enough to keep her thoughts to herself.
The mood in the car was sombre as Philip, Eileen and Ethel compared the three homes they’d gone through. Philip expressed his disappointment at the lack of decent choice. According to the real estate agent’s website, there were about a dozen places available to rent in town, but Ethel had assured them these three were the best of a generally drab lot. Anyway, they were all very similar in features and price.
‘It’s okay. It’s clean and tidy enough,’ Jacqueline said finally. ‘Really, that’s all you need in a temporary rental.’ God, she sounded like her mother. One thing was for sure, the r
ental accommodation out here was cheap compared to the city.
‘Are you sure you want to carry on with your plans to move out here when I might not be here?’ she said on the drive back to drop Ethel home. There, she’d finally got it off her chest.
‘Oh you’ll be here,’ Ethel said firmly.
Jacqueline looked across at her in the passenger’s seat with raised eyebrows. ‘You seem to be forgetting the pickle I’m in.’
‘Ah, you’ll get through it and be just fine.’
While Jacqueline normally appreciated Ethel’s optimism and sunny disposition, today it annoyed her. Was no one but her, Doctor Squire and Damien taking this seriously? She wished she’d stayed home in front of the TV, wallowing in her self-pity and dire circumstances.
‘It’ll all work itself out, one way or the other,’ her father said, reaching between the seats and patting her shoulder.
She smiled weakly at him in the rear-vision mirror, trying to look grateful for his supposedly buoying words. She just wanted it over with, whatever the outcome. She could deal with it, put it behind her, and get on with her life. It was the waiting that was killing her. Worse, waiting while being expected to carry on as normal, pretend nothing was up. Only her whole career – her life – was up in the air, she thought sardonically. No big deal. She almost snorted aloud as she pulled into Ethel’s driveway.
‘How about we do fish and chips at the seaside to cheer us up instead of going to a winery?’ Philip suddenly announced.
‘Good idea. You know, I think I’ve quite gone off the idea of shopping too,’ Eileen said.
‘Hmm, me too,’ Jacqueline added.
‘I read there’s a nice café at Pigeon Bay. What do you say, Ethel? Will you join us?’ Philip said.
‘Yes, do, please,’ Eileen pleaded. ‘We’ll wait for you to feed the kittens.’
‘Oh. Well, okay then. If you’re sure.’
‘Absolutely!’ Eileen cried.
‘Yes, a bit of fresh sea air and a stroll along the jetty might be nice. Thank you.’
My poor parents. They are clearly desperate not to be left alone with their mopey daughter. I’d better make more of an effort.
A little over an hour later Philip and Jacqueline were waiting at the counter for their order and Eileen and Ethel were sitting in the car with the windows down, enjoying the sea breeze. Being at the seaside had even perked Jacqueline up a little – turning the radio up when ABBA had come on and them all singing along loudly to ‘Chiquitita’ had helped. It was quite exhilarating to sing out loud and have nobody care if you were a bit out of tune. Jacqueline loved singing loudly in the car, but had always been careful to keep it private. She thought she didn’t have a bad voice, but wasn’t entirely sure. The old hits had continued and their whole journey had been filled with raucous singing. Jacqueline couldn’t remember her parents being so fun – Ethel really did bring out the best in people. She was so grateful for that and had to remember to be in the present, appreciate the moment – even if just for an hour at a time. That was what she advised clients going through tough times to do. She really needed to remember to follow her own advice, she thought, as she gathered up the bundle of fish and chips and turned away from the counter.
Straight into a chest. It was the same chest she’d almost crushed a plate of dessert into at the CFS shed.
‘Well hello there, Jacqueline, you really know how to get a man’s attention,’ Paul Reynolds said, flashing that gorgeous smile.
‘Shit, sorry,’ Jacqueline blurted, blushing wildly.
‘Paul Reynolds, nice to meet you,’ he said smoothly to Philip, and stuck out his hand.
‘Philip Havelock, the pleasure is all mine,’ Philip said a little quizzically as he rearranged his armful of cold drinks and accepted the hand. While Paul was distracted, Jacqueline took the opportunity to take in his wet, mussed hair, thicker stubble, large, tight muscles on tanned arms and lovely lean legs beneath his navy and white striped board shorts. Christ, the man’s feet even looked good in thongs!
‘I’d better leave you to your lunch while it’s hot,’ Paul said, nodding to the paper-wrapped bundle she held tightly to her chest, trying to ignore how warm it was making her. She wished she was the one who’d grabbed the drinks – she needed one or two to put to her forehead and chest right about now.
‘Thanks. Yes,’ Jacqueline blustered.
‘I’ll see you ’round.’
‘Yes. Right. See you.’
‘Are you okay?’ Eileen said, as Jacqueline handed everything over to Ethel in the passenger seat.
‘Fine. Let’s get out of here,’ she muttered, avoiding looking anyone in the eye.
‘It might be nice to sit here,’ Eileen said, pointing at the picnic table under the verandah.
‘No,’ Jacqueline said, a little too sharply. It was only a matter of time before Paul came out again and she didn’t like what seeing him did to her.
She sensed Ethel chuckling beside her and turned to look at her friend. If she wasn’t so intent on getting away from here – fast – she might have smiled at the knowing, cheeky expression on Ethel’s face. Instead she looked back to the windscreen.
‘What’s going on, Philip?’ Eileen asked as Philip got in beside her. ‘Jacqueline is acting strangely.’
‘I think you’ll find your daughter is blushing and flustered as a result of just having been flirted with by a nice-looking young man,’ Philip said.
‘Oh. Right. Lovely,’ Eileen said, looking almost as flustered as Jacqueline. In the rear-vision mirror, Jacqueline noticed her mother open and then close her mouth, very much like she was about to say, ‘But what about Damien?’
‘Yep, Paul Reynolds strikes again,’ Ethel said, grinning and nodding. ‘Bit dishy, that one.’
‘The young man who walked past?’ Eileen asked. ‘Yes, he was rather a fine specimen.’
‘Mum!’
‘Dear, I’m not too over the hill to appreciate a fine set of tanned muscles. Sorry, Philip.’
‘Hey, don’t stop on my account,’ Philip said, laughing, ‘I’d be worried if you didn’t notice a fine-looking man.’
‘As you still are, dear,’ Eileen said.
‘You’re all too much,’ Jacqueline said, shaking her head in consternation, but smiling.
‘I heard you met him the other night,’ Ethel said. ‘He’s a nice young man, as well as nice looking.’
Jacqueline blushed again and opened her mouth to say she’d never cheat on Damien, but Ethel got in first.
‘We know you love Damien, but it doesn’t hurt to keep your eye in.’ She paused. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’
‘Yes, dear,’ Eileen added. ‘Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy a piece of art, even if you wouldn’t necessarily want it hanging on your wall.’
‘Okay, thank you all for your advice. Right, to the jetty, unless there are any objections?’ she said, glancing left and right before driving off. While she was sure she would stay true to Damien, her mother was right, what harm did it do to admire the scenery?
Chapter Twenty
Damien pulled up outside Dorothy’s house per Tina’s instructions. Despite him being ten minutes early, there his mother was, sitting on the step at the end of the path like a school kid waiting for the bus. Why wouldn’t she wait inside with her friend? It wasn’t as if it was a ridiculous hour of the day – it was ten in the morning. He’d wondered why Tina had asked to be picked up here since she’d announced her plans and requested his taxi service. She’d told him sharply that she’d be leaving her car in Dorothy’s yard out of sight. It just didn’t make sense – why would his mother leave her car out in the weather when she could have left it in her own garage? But he didn’t ask – to do so would be like the interrogations Tina rolled out. There was clearly something going on with her that she didn’t want to tell him about and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
God, I hope she hasn’t suddenly got Alzheimer’s, he thought with a start as he stowed her luggage in
the back and tied everything down. But if she was confused, she wouldn’t have arranged for him to be here and wouldn’t have her bags, ticket or passport. And she did, pulling the items out and showing him in response to his query.
Tina got into the vehicle and sneered with distaste at finding she would be sharing her space with Squish. Damien wanted to point out that it was his ute and he could have whomever he liked in it, but he couldn’t be bothered.
She’d have a fit if she knew Jemima had most likely left roo fur all over the seat where she was sitting. Did roos shed like dogs and cats? He didn’t know, but he was sure Tina McAllister wouldn’t be impressed. He probably should have given the cab a vacuum. It was a bit stale smelling, now he thought about it. Squish, seeming to sense the hostility, snuggled up close to Damien’s leg and put his head on his master’s thigh.
They set off, waving to the few people walking the streets of the tiny town. While Damien drove, his mother chattered non-stop, even going so far as to get out the brochure and point out things in London she was looking forward to seeing and doing. He focussed on the road ahead, occasionally nodding and murmuring in a vague show of interest. She was clearly nervous. It was understandable, given she was leaving Australia for the first time ever. Damien wondered what the dickhead shearer thought about his estranged wife blowing a heap of dough on such a frivolous thing as an overseas trip. Perhaps she was nervous because she’d emptied their bank account without Geoff knowing, he found himself suddenly thinking. Perhaps she was not only fleeing her crumbled personal life and going to visit her daughter in order to draw some sort of line in the sand – perhaps she was actually becoming an international fugitive.
Christ, where did that come from? Clearly he hadn’t had enough sleep. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but did literally shake his head slowly in an attempt to be more sensible. Anyway, he had plenty of his own stuff to think about. These days his brain was constantly whirring with ideas for ways to make money for the farm. It was all quite exciting – he felt he really had found his calling. And there was all the other not so interesting stuff to do: he had to phone Steve Smith about putting in a crop for hay, and organise for the sheep to be crutched before too long. And then there were the fixtures and fittings to choose for the house. He’d once looked forward to making these choices – when Jacqueline was in the picture. He reminded himself that it was technically his mother’s house and perhaps she might like to make these choices – or should be making these choices. Thank goodness she’d come to her senses and gone home and turfed the dickhead shearer out, otherwise he might have been facing the horrible prospect of her living back at the farm with him. He actually shuddered at the thought. God, if that happened he might really shoot himself. No, he shouldn’t say such things, even in jest. Suicide and thoughts of suicide really were not laughing matters, as he knew only too well. He was past all that now and had himself together and his life sorted. But the truth was, without Jacqueline, he wasn’t feeling one iota of interest in this homemaker side of things. While he was very grateful for them rebuilding his house and would love having all that space again, if it was left up to him, he might just stay put in the caravan until the owner made noises about wanting it back.
Standing Strong Page 15