‘Mum!’
‘You’ve always got me,’ Philip said, making a show of wrapping his arms around his wife and kissing her.
‘Speaking of smooth,’ Eileen said, kissing her husband back. Jacqueline looked on with amusement while thinking that her father’s semi-retirement really seemed to be doing wonders for their relationship. She hoped that might be her one day – her and Damien.
They sat, but Ethel remained standing. Jacqueline almost stood up again. Things were becoming awkward.
‘So, where’s Paul from, what does he do?’ Eileen asked.
‘Well, he’s from up near Charity Flat – the other side of where the fire was the other day.’
‘Golly, no wonder he was keen to head off – he was miles from home,’ Jacqueline said. ‘Isn’t Charity Flat about an hour’s drive?’
‘Yes, but travelling long distances is part and parcel of living out here. It’s nothing to drive a few hours for something like a surf.’
‘Is he a farmer, like Damien? Well, like he was before Esperance, I mean,’ Eileen asked.
Ethel nodded. ‘Yes and no. He’s a stock agent – buys and sells livestock. He owns land inherited from his parents and lives in the house but leases the property out. Now, just excuse me while I get the food organised.’
‘I’ll help,’ Eileen said, getting up.
‘No, you stay put. Please. It’s all done. I won’t be long. Though, I warn you, it’s very casual.’
‘Well, I think it’s very good of you to have us two nights in a row – we should have been having you,’ Eileen said.
‘Ah.’ Ethel waved off the comment while leaving the room. ‘Open the wine you brought, Philip. I could do with a drink,’ she said over her shoulder.
Jacqueline frowned. That was a bit unlike Ethel, too. ‘Do you get the feeling something’s not right?’ she whispered as soon as Ethel had left the room.
‘You know her better than us, dear,’ Eileen said.
‘Yes, and I think something’s up.’
‘Perhaps she’s worried about the kittens,’ Philip offered.
‘Did she say anything was wrong when you saw them?’
‘No, they were fine. And, you’re right, she would have asked me to take a look,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe she’s tired, I know I am. When you get to our age, Jacqueline, you don’t have the stamina you once had. I know looking through those houses nearly did me in.’
‘Hmm,’ Jacqueline and Eileen said in unison. Jacqueline wondered if her mother was trying, like she was, not to think about the rental options on offer. Jacqueline had a lot she was trying not to think about.
‘Hmm. That must be it.’
Philip poured them all glasses of the white wine he’d brought and Ethel delivered the food in two trips – again refusing any help – then announced dinner was served. ‘Tuck in, everybody,’ she said.
Jacqueline thought Ethel seemed like she was making a huge effort to be cheery. If she was, she was failing. And now she was hopping into the wine. Jacqueline watched with surprise as half the glass disappeared down Ethel’s throat in one gulp.
‘We’ll serve. Mum, how about you do the chicken and I’ll do the salad?’ Jacqueline held her hand out for Ethel to pass her plate.
‘I won’t argue,’ Ethel said, taking another drink, a smaller sip this time. Jacqueline wondered if she was already drunk.
After murmuring their gratitude and compliments, they settled into their meal in silence, punctuated by the odd inane comment.
‘I can’t believe I’m so hungry after that ice-cream, but I am,’ Eileen declared.
‘Yes, it must be all that sea air – always increases the appetite, doesn’t it?’ Philip said.
‘Hmm,’ Ethel agreed.
‘At least Jacqueline has an excuse for being ravenous – all that surfing,’ Eileen added.
‘I didn’t think I did much – I wasn’t out there for long – but I sure can feel it. Paul’s right, I am finding muscles I forgot I had.’
‘Well, you only have to look at him to know it’s good exercise,’ Eileen said.
Jacqueline tried to laugh to lighten things, but it came out as more of a snort.
‘So, how did Damien’s trip down to Lincoln go? Did he get Tina off on her plane okay?’ Philip finally asked.
Ethel let out a long, deep sigh. ‘I’m glad you’re all sitting down, because there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘Has something happened? Is something wrong?’ Eileen said.
‘Yes, very, very wrong. Tina, Damien’s mother, was the one who dobbed Jacqueline in to the medical board. She wrote to them.’
There was stunned silence. Jacqueline stared at Ethel.
‘Oh, poor Damien,’ Eileen said, bringing her hands to her face.
‘Yes, the poor fellow’s beside himself. He couldn’t face you.’
‘But he has no control over what his mother does – or anyone else, for that matter,’ Eileen said.
‘Why would she do such a thing?’ Philip said, clearly bewildered.
Jacqueline closed her mouth. No, you’ve got it wrong. She’d apologised. We all had a nice night together. She made a pavlova. She looked across at the floral curtains and set her gaze on one of the pink roses. When I look back, this won’t be happening. She blinked and looked back at the table.
‘Jacqueline, dear, are you okay?’
She looked down at her mother’s hand on hers. The voices sounded like they were in a tunnel: distorted, echoing.
‘But,’ she said. And stopped. The words just wouldn’t come. If I’m feeling this betrayed, how must Damien be doing? Christ, I hope he’s okay. How can he be? I need to go to him. But I can’t, I’m technically just the ex-girlfriend – and the dumpee, not the dumper – it wouldn’t be right.
‘I’m afraid it’s true, Jacqueline,’ Ethel said kindly. ‘She told Damien herself.’
‘How could she do that to her own son? What was she thinking?’ Eileen asked.
‘She claims she was protecting him,’ Ethel said.
‘From what? Our daughter?’ Philip said, clearly becoming angry.
‘I really thought she’d come around,’ Jacqueline said, in barely more than a whisper. ‘I wouldn’t have invited her over if …’
‘You weren’t to know,’ Eileen said. ‘It’s Damien I feel sorry for.’
What about me? She’s probably completely fucked up my career. But the words wouldn’t form.
‘She wrote to them when she was angry. She assures Damien she wrote again to retract her complaint straight away, as soon as she realised how you were helping,’ Ethel said, looking at Jacqueline.
‘Well not bloody quick enough!’ Jacqueline blurted.
‘It’ll work itself out, Jacqueline, you’ll see,’ Philip said quietly.
‘It wouldn’t have to if she wasn’t an interfering, controlling bitch.’
‘Jacqueline, I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be but …’ Eileen started.
‘It’s not your bloody career on the line, is it? Sorry.’ She took a sip of her wine, but had trouble swallowing. It burnt like acid down her throat.
‘It’s okay. It’s upsetting. Of course you’re upset,’ Eileen said. ‘But I really do think all will be well.’
‘I hope you’re right, because it sure isn’t now. It’s all a fucking mess. Sorry about the language, but it’s the truth!’ Jacqueline looked at the curtains, blinking back tears and wishing she was still surfing or under the hot shower in her little house. Who would have thought simply crossing the road like she had so many times before would have brought with it this? Whoever said the truth hurt was so right about that. Fucking Tina fucking … whatever-her-name-now-is!
‘The letters must have crossed in the mail and just need some time to be sorted out,’ Philip said. ‘You know what admin can be like.’
‘Should we go out and see Damien and let him know we have no hard feelings?’ Eileen asked.
‘Give him a few
days. His day got even worse after Tina inadvertently dropped her bombshell – he returned home to two dead dogs.’
‘What?’ Eileen said.
‘Oh no,’ Philip said.
‘Not Squish or Bob or Cara?’ Jacqueline asked, feeling panic rise.
‘No, they’re all fine. Someone dropped two pups off, but was stupid enough to tie them up using slip knots and they … Well, you can guess.’
‘In the long run, sadly, this might actually be a valuable lesson for him,’ Philip said sagely.
‘Yes. And, of course, he’s doubly furious at Tina because she was the reason he wasn’t there.’
‘Well, I hope he gave her a piece of his mind,’ Eileen said. ‘But he seems such a quiet fellow, I can’t imagine him getting too hot under the collar. Even though she certainly deserves it.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry, Tina knows exactly how he feels. And he can be a right firecracker when he gets going.’
‘Hopefully he won’t hold it in and let it fester and make himself sick. The poor fellow. Are you sure we can’t do anything to help him?’
‘Not right now. I think he needs some time to deal with it.’
‘We understand, don’t we, Eileen? But please let him know we don’t hold him responsible for his mother’s actions and that we’re here for him if he needs anything – he only has to ask.’
‘Yes, exactly, well said, Philip,’ Eileen said, nodding her head in agreement.
Jacqueline wasn’t sure leaving him alone was the right approach. But if Ethel had been out to see him, then she was in a better position to know how he really was than them sitting here around a table speculating. And Jacqueline certainly shouldn’t be going out there.
‘You look completely done in, Jacqueline. It isn’t surprising, but are you all right?’
‘No, not really. I’m pissed off. Excuse the language.’
‘It’s okay, under the circumstances. Quite understandable,’ Eileen said, and patted her daughter’s hand again.
She was upset, angry, disappointed, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised. Insecure people were threatened by the smallest things and lashed out in all sorts of ways. All she could hope was that – as misguided as her actions were – Tina really had done it with Damien’s best interests at heart and not out of spite.
‘Thank you for being so understanding,’ Ethel finally said. ‘I’ve been at my wits’ end, stressing about how to tell you.’ She began to clear the table.
‘You poor thing. I’m sure you’ve been putting yourself through the wringer,’ Eileen said, leaping up to help.
After they’d left the room, Jacqueline caught her father’s eye. His pained, sympathetic smile made her heart lurch, but thankfully no tears sprang forth. Perhaps the sea air had dried them out.
‘Can anyone stomach trifle?’ Ethel asked as she and Eileen re-entered the room.
‘I can,’ Philip said.
‘And me,’ Eileen said. ‘I bet it’s even better today than it was last night.’
‘Okay. Thanks,’ Jacqueline said. It was the last thing she felt like, and she wouldn’t mind betting her parents were of the same view, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. And right now the greater good was letting Ethel off the hook and making sure she knew all was well between the two families.
Chapter Twenty-four
Damien struggled to get out of bed. He lay there curled around Squish, patting the little dog. The more he told himself what will be will be, the louder the voice in his head asked him who he was kidding. No matter what he’d said to Ethel, the truth was he was terrified and sad. He wished he wasn’t, wished he could be philosophical like he’d started learning to be, with Jacqueline’s help. If only he could call Jacqueline up or knock on her door to talk this through. If only he wasn’t going to lose her forever, thanks to his selfish, interfering mother.
He was annoyed at his father for dying. He didn’t believe in God, but if he did, he’d blame him, too, for leaving him with the one parent who would never understand him. After their fight, perhaps Tina might just care enough that she’d trashed her only son’s dream. But his mother was stubborn. She might hold firm, convinced she’d done the right thing just through sheer stubbornness.
Damien reluctantly got himself up and dressed, had a breakfast of cereal that tasted like sodden cardboard, and left the van. He fed Jemima a snack to ease his guilt over her bewilderment at being locked up, and chained Bob and Cara on the back of the ute. He made the quick trip into town in a daze. It was a bit of a waste of fuel to go in just to post a letter, but it was an important letter. And the way he was feeling, he might just forget. At least now it was done and he could put it out of his mind.
God, he hoped he’d said the right thing. He wasn’t sure of anything these days. He’d been clear, concise, to the point. He’d stuck to how Jacqueline had helped him and why she was so important to the town. He’d explained about how controlling his mother was and how it had got him into the state that had seen him needing Jacqueline in the first place. While he’d desperately wanted to beg them to let him and Jacqueline be a couple again and say he’d definitely choose her over his mother if it came down to it, he’d refrained. He didn’t want to come across as unhinged, desperate or disloyal. He figured the people on the board would be older, and older people tended to view loyalty to one’s own flesh and blood as more important than most things – family is everything, blood is thicker than water. But Damien was starting to see that as a load of bullshit. His mother had thought she was doing the right thing, protecting him. Pffft. If only she’d bloody well thought to not interfere!
He drove, fuming, while at the same time telling himself he had to put it all out of his mind and start focussing on drenching his sheep. It was good that he’d have a distraction and some physical work for the rest of the day and part of tomorrow. He was quite at ease working with sheep these days. Surprising, when just the thought of it used to make him go purple with rage, but he’d changed – thanks to Jacqueline. She’d been able to get him to see that his frustration and anger lay nowhere near the sheep, but within himself – that living a life of compromise was coming out in this way. It had to come out somehow, she’d said. He was lucky he hadn’t turned to drink or dope, like many around had.
Damien opened the gates to the yards that had remained intact thanks to the ground being so bare, though they were a little scorched around the edges. He had to show Bob and Cara, who were quivering all over with excitement, where the stock was expected to come. Other than taking a drive around them daily, he hadn’t done anything serious with the sheep since the fire and the dash to move them to safety. As he drove, he tried to blink away the flashbacks: the smoke on the horizon; fear and bewilderment etched in Jacqueline’s gorgeous face and later the tears that stained it, running channels through the soot and dust. Oh, how he’d wanted to be the one to ease her pain, especially after she’d done so much for him. But when he’d turned around from thanking the firies she was being escorted away by Auntie Ethel.
As he got out and pulled the wire gate open and hard back against the fence, he tried to tell himself he was just being a big wuss, and to pull himself together. His heart was racing and his legs were like jelly. Thankfully Bob and Cara didn’t seem to be affected. They were squirming and whining, keen to be let off their chains to get on with it. He still had the odd nightmare – not that he’d tell anyone that – but this was worse than the worst of them. He could wake up from nightmares. But here he was in broad daylight, eyes wide open, and seeing it all before him again. And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it, except just get over it. Get on with it.
On his command of ‘Go way back,’ the dogs leapt off the ute in a flurry of excited yelping and bounded across the paddock. All Damien needed to do was park out of the way and wait. As he did, he felt the already heavy clouds in his mind descending, closer and closer. He didn’t feel particularly tired, just leaden and struggling to care – ab
out anything. He wanted to go back to the van, close the blinds and hide from the world, hide from his problems. But he knew only too well that wouldn’t help. The shadow always followed. He had to keep moving, keep busy, keep accomplishing.
He looked up as the mob of sheep raced towards him, dust suspended above them.
‘Good dogs,’ he croaked, getting another flashback of the day of the fire. Tears stung and his throat felt blocked and dry. ‘Get a grip, soft cock,’ he told himself. ‘Not you, Squish, you’re a good dog.’ He patted the panting dog sitting to attention beside him then pushed the ute into gear and slowly eased it in behind the sheep as the tailenders ran through the gate.
Damien went through the motions of drenching the large mob; it was taking far longer than ever before. Usually he had his mother helping. He cursed himself for missing her. If he’d thought about it, he could have got a neighbour and mate over. They all swapped labour from time to time. But while it was taking forever – would stretch well into the next day – Damien knew he didn’t have the strength to put on a happy face in front of anyone or pretend he was fine. He just wanted to be left alone with his worries and his black mood.
About a thousand times that day, thanks to the monotony of a task, he had cursed how fickle life was, that you could feel great about everything one minute but feel a hopeless desperation about your situation the next. Or perhaps it was just him. Perhaps he really was sick in the head. Regardless, he’d throttle the next person who said, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ He believed it, of course it was true – he was proof. It just wasn’t a helpful thing to be told when the chips were down, and the only time anyone said it was when you were at your lowest.
Chapter Twenty-five
Jacqueline had intended to go for a decent walk before work to try to stretch her tight muscles, which seemed to be getting worse by the hour – God, she was seriously unfit! But when she’d seen Eileen in the kitchen getting pots and pans out, it didn’t seem right to leave. It was lovely having her parents around to take care of her, but if she ended up having to move back in with them she’d have to tactfully ease Eileen away from mothering her. Though she was always telling clients to be extra kind to themselves when going through difficult periods in their lives; perhaps bacon and eggs for breakfast fell into that category. Hopefully Eileen wouldn’t do too much damage to Jacqueline’s waistline in a week.
Standing Strong Page 18