Standing Strong

by Fiona McCallum

  The girl on the checkout was a different matter.

  ‘Hey, you take all animals out there at your rescue farm, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘And you don’t kill them, do you?’

  ‘No, definitely not – unless they’re in pain or distressed and their suffering can’t be eased any other way.’

  ‘Cool. Thanks. That’ll be sixty-five dollars and fifty-five cents.’

  ‘On cheque, thanks,’ Damien said, handing over his card.

  As he drove out of town, Damien felt a little guilty for not stopping in to see his auntie Ethel, but he was keen to retreat back into his own world.

  He approached his gate and the depository with unease. He was terrified of what he might find today, but also keen to see a sign – a sort of look into the future that might calm his fear. He’d take anything he could get right now, he couldn’t think or make decisions for himself. He almost cried with relief to see it empty.

  With a mug of coffee on the table in front of him, Damien went through the mail – all bills and bank statements, except one. He pulled out the folded piece of paper and read. He had to go through it twice before it sank into his doughy head: his application for tax-deductible donation status had come through. With this news he could start his serious fundraising. While a lot of local people had contributed to get him started, he knew that others would be more inclined to be generous with this added incentive. His mum, for one, only ever made donations she could get a tax deduction for as well.

  He knew he should be ecstatic, but he just felt glum, disinterested, and unable to muster any enthusiasm. He should be leaping up and down, phoning Auntie Ethel and Philip Havelock and announcing the reaching of this milestone, and announcing it on Facebook and upgrading his website. Yet he just sat there feeling numb. He needed to think things through, get a few things straight in his mind, but his brain refused to work. It was as if it had turned into a tangle of spaghetti and he couldn’t find an end to grasp to undo the knots. He stared at his mug, not quite able to muster the energy to deal with drinking the cooling liquid either.

  Damien’s phone rang. The screen read: Lucy.

  ‘Hello, Damien speaking,’ he said, despite knowing who was calling.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘God, I’m so sorry to hear what Mum did to Jacqueline. Even for Mum that’s insane. Is it true Jacqueline’s been hauled up before the medical board?’

  ‘Not quite. She’s received a please explain letter. Did Auntie Ethel phone you?’

  ‘No. Mum did – said you’re a bit upset with her.’

  ‘That’s the understatement of the century. Glad she’s your problem for the next few weeks, I can’t even look at her.’

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘I’m so fucking furious at her, Lucy, I want to murder her! And I’d be pretty justified, I’d say.’

  ‘Yeah. But what do you mean she’s my problem for the next few weeks?’

  ‘There in London,’ he said.

  ‘What, she’s turning up here?!’

  ‘Er, yeah.’ Der.

  ‘I don’t know anything about it.’

  ‘What? I took her to the plane. She should be there by now.’

  ‘She’s just split with Geoff – thank God – but as if he’d be authorising her to spend a stack of money on an overseas trip.’

  ‘Hmm. Good point. But she’s got money of her own.’ And access to the farm accounts. Damien felt his blood run cold. Shit! Would she? He pulled himself together. They were operating on an overdraft and the insurance money wasn’t in yet. She couldn’t do much damage. And she wouldn’t do that to him. But he didn’t think she’d dob in the woman he loved, either, but she had.

  ‘Hey, you don’t think she’s cleared out their bank account and skipped town, do you?’ Lucy said.

  ‘Nothing he wouldn’t deserve, but I doubt it.’

  ‘Yep, he’s a creep all right.’

  ‘That’s a bit strong. He’s an idiot, and I don’t like the bloke, never have, but …’

  ‘Well, clearly you didn’t wake up from a snooze on the couch one day to find him leaning over you and reaching for a breast like he was going to cop a feel.’

  ‘Surely not. You must have misunderstood …’

  ‘God, thanks a lot. You sound like Mum. Seriously, Damien, take it from me, he’s a creep. Jesus, I can’t believe you didn’t notice all the lewd comments, the sexual innuendo.’

  ‘Did you tell Mum?’

  ‘Yes, and well before she married him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Laughed in my face. Told me he was just messing with me, winding me up. Why do you think I live so far away and rarely visit, and why I have so little time for my mother? She’s not exactly supportive.’

  ‘God, you should have told me.’

  ‘And you’d have done what? Come on, Damien, you would have sided with Mum – you’re as thick as thieves. You’re the favourite, everyone knows that.’

  ‘I would have knocked his bloody block off.’ Damien liked to think he would have defended his sister, but Lucy was right: until very recently he had been well and truly under his mother’s thumb, thanks to depending on her for his livelihood, the roof over his head. Not to mention needing to keep the farm running for her and his dead dad, which he now knew was all ridiculous, of course.

  ‘Yeah, well.’ Lucy clearly didn’t believe him either. Oh, it was easy to say you’d do the right thing after the fact. Truth was he’d always sided with his mother over Lucy. He wasn’t sure why – maybe deep down he envied his sister’s freedom, the fact she’d had the guts to leave the town, the district, their oppressive mother.

  ‘So what do you think is going on with her? What did she actually say?’ he asked.

  ‘Just that she’d really upset you, and what she’d done. No idea why she’d call me – she should have known I’d tell her what I thought. I wasn’t very sympathetic.’

  ‘She doesn’t deserve any.’

  ‘So, what are we going to do?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Well I’m not going to do anything. I’m too pissed off with her – selfish, control-freak cow. Anyway, it’s about time you had to deal with her – I’ve had years of her pulling my chain, turning up here, breaking my balls. You’re on your own.’

  ‘Gee, thanks a lot. At least you’ve had a guaranteed job for all those years, and a rent-free, mortgage-free roof over your head. Small price to pay, I’d say. Some of us have had to pay our own way, not get a handout, no matter how hard it gets.’

  Damien stayed silent. While he wanted to point out that farming was hardly guaranteed – just to start with – he didn’t want to fight with his sister. And how was he to explain that really what he’d been in was a prison, even if he could have walked away years ago and been free – the only lock had been his own fears and insecurities. Life was all about choices. But he could see how it must look from Lucy’s point of view. She didn’t know how much and how often his mother phoned or turned up without warning to tell him he was doing everything wrong and not working hard enough or fast enough.

  ‘Right, so I suppose I’d better ring her, find out where she is and get to the bottom of it – whatever it is,’ Lucy said with a deep sigh.

  ‘That’s up to you. Frankly, I think she’s made her bed and she should lie in it – that’s probably what she’d be telling us if the situation were reversed.’

  ‘Well, I’d like to know why she lied to you about visiting me.’

  ‘Okay, let me know what you find out,’ he said. Let their mother pull Lucy’s chain for a bit and give him a break.

  ‘I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Righto. Good luck. See ya.’ Damien hung up the phone and sat scowling for a few moments. He was glad he’d kept it together, but Christ, Lucy made his blood boil! She clearly thought he’d had everything handed to him on a plate and without any strings attached. And what the bloody hell was his mother playing at no
w?

  ‘Oh, Squish,’ he said with a sigh. And then he surprised himself by crying. Great heart-wrenching sobs swamped him.

  What seemed minutes later, the alarm for the kittens’ next feeding sounded. Two hours had passed while he’d just laid there, being angry and disappointed with himself for being so damned pathetic. Thank goodness for the kittens and the other animals that needed him, he thought, dragging his heavy bulk off the bed. Otherwise he might just stay there forever, feeling useless, being useless.

  As he organised the kittens’ formula, he realised that other than the Scotch Finger biscuit he’d had with the oldies, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was now five in the afternoon. He wasn’t hungry, couldn’t be bothered deciding what to eat, let alone organising it.

  Lucy’s name appeared again on the screen of the phone vibrating on the table in front of him. He snatched it up before it could start ringing.

  ‘Hey, what did you find out?’

  ‘Well, she’s not coming to London, and never was.’

  Damien thought his sister sounded very relieved. ‘Lucky you.’

  ‘She’s in Adelaide, holed up in some caravan park cabin.’

  ‘Why? Why isn’t she staying with one of the relatives?’

  ‘She’s too ashamed.’

  ‘She’s too ashamed – God, I haven’t faced Jacqueline yet!’

  ‘Damien, not about that. Though I’m sure that’s a big part of it.’

  ‘Then what? And hang on, why wouldn’t she just drive to Adelaide? Why fly?’

  ‘If you’d shut up and listen for two minutes, I’ll tell you what I found out.’

  Damien said nothing.

  ‘Right. So apparently Geoff has thrown her out of the house …’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Damien!’

  ‘Sorry. Go on.’

  ‘And wouldn’t let her take the car …’ So the car hadn’t been in Dorothy’s yard? Had she walked there? Hell, what do I care? ‘… He’s threatened to make her sell the farm as part of the splitting of assets. She’s quite beside herself. He wants the house. All they really have is the house and the farm. I’m sure even you could see what a loser he is with money. And apparently he’s gone through what little savings they had managed.’

  ‘Auntie Ethel offered a place to stay for as long as she needed it. Why run away to Adelaide?’ Damien said.

  ‘Again, ashamed, I guess. You know what Mum’s like.’

  ‘Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone to know the true score.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, hang on, what exactly is the problem? That she doesn’t have anywhere to live? So she moves back to the farm – in a caravan while the house is being rebuilt.’

  ‘But Geoff is threatening to make her sell the farm. I don’t think she’d have a problem with it, but she’s worried about what you’d do.’

  ‘I’ll be right,’ Damien said, more upbeat than he felt. ‘She can’t run her life around what I, or anyone else, thinks.’ He nearly laughed – it was exactly what he’d done for the past goodness knows how long; since his father had died and he’d felt the pressure to step in, and then the pressure to stay.

  ‘But what would you do?’

  ‘No idea. But I’m not going to as good as hold my mother hostage like she did me.’

  ‘Wow. Well, I think she’ll need to hear that from you.’

  ‘I’m too angry to speak to her.’ After all the damage her meddling had done to him and his life, he wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily. ‘Tell her to sort her own life out. She’s an adult. It’s not my problem she married a loser. You and I both knew she was making a mistake before she made it.’ He paused. ‘Well, good luck with that. I’ve got to go,’ Damien lied, keen to get out of the call.

  He hung up, feeling a mix of relief, empowerment and guilt surging through him. It felt good to not get sucked into Tina’s web on her whim, to actually say no. He probably should be being more supportive, but what he’d said was right: it was her farm to do with as she wished. He’d be pretty devastated to have to find somewhere else to follow his dreams, but that was no reason for her to be yanked about by Geoff the dickhead. God, I could knock his bloody block off too. But he could also see that Geoff the dickhead was also Poor Geoff, to some extent. Damien hadn’t had Tina living with him twenty-four-seven for years – he could imagine that would send anyone over the edge. Or into the arms of another woman.

  Damien could see that there wasn’t much point worrying about the stuff he couldn’t change and that life was a lot easier if he just focussed on dealing with each bridge he came to. That was what Jacqueline had taught him. Also, she was big on saying that opportunities always arose from seemingly hopeless situations if you took notice. He really hoped she was remembering all this for her own situation and not worrying too much. As he’d seen, good things really could come from bad.

  If only his mother had let Jacqueline help her. He was sure she hadn’t, otherwise they probably wouldn’t be where they were and he wouldn’t be having these conversations with his sister. He felt good about staying out of it, stepping away from Tina’s manipulation. He hoped for Lucy’s sake that she would stay true to form and not get sucked into the vortex. Being thousands of miles away would help.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Jacqueline tried not to be concerned about the lack of clients and instead be grateful that it meant she could close her office early and have a leisurely drive up to Charity Flat with her parents and look around. And if tonight went well, things might improve.

  She put her key in the door. ‘Hi, won’t be a sec, just want to quickly change,’ she called to her parents waiting in the lounge as she raced through the house, propelled by nervous energy.

  ‘No rush,’ Philip said.

  It was nice to have someone to come home to; her parents’ presence did well to distract her from too much worrying about the outcome of her case with the medical board. It was something she couldn’t control – it was now in the hands of the universe; she’d done all she could, Doctor Squire was doing all he could. She’d counsel a client in the same situation to do their best to keep busy and distract themselves from thinking about it too much. Not bury their head in the sand, as such, but deal with the bits that could be dealt with and try not to dwell unnecessarily on those things that couldn’t.

  Her heart thudded and her hands shook as she tore off her clothes. When her fingers struggled to do up the small buttons on the shirt she’d chosen, she really began to wish she’d said no to Paul and was instead putting on comfy clothes and getting ready to curl up in front of the TV with a glass of wine. It briefly crossed her mind to plead a sudden bout of food poisoning, before she scolded herself for thinking it. She’d be letting people down; she couldn’t do that. Toughen up, princess, she told her reflection in the mirror, it’s your job.

  No matter how many times she told herself that this would be just like any of the other talks she’d done, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more riding on this one. A small part of her would have preferred it to be just her and Ethel making the drive, so things would feel the same. But how could she have expressed that without hurting Eileen and Philip? They were being supportive. They were always fully supportive, and rarely critical.

  ‘Right, ready to go?’ she called at the lounge room door, handbag over her shoulder, car keys and a few CDs in hand. She hoped if they got a singalong happening, like the other day, her nerves might be kept at bay.

  ‘You look nice,’ Eileen remarked.

  ‘Yes, very professional but friendly and approachable,’ Philip said.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll just run across and get Ethel.’

  ‘She changed her mind, she’s not coming,’ Eileen said.

  ‘Oh. Okay,’ Jacqueline said, glancing across the road. Really? Since when did Ethel cancel, or cancel and not let Jacqueline know personally?

  She drove in silence through town towards the turn-off to Charity Flat on the
highway. Paul had warned it came up quickly after a series of bends and was easy to miss, and that it would be a long time until you realised you’d made an error.

  ‘So, what’s Ethel’s story, anyway. What came up?’ she asked when she’d successfully taken the turn-off, got back up to speed and set the cruise control. She could relax a little now. Paul had said after that turn there was no way she could get lost.

  ‘Um, well,’ Eileen said, fidgeting with the edge of her blouse.

  Jacqueline’s antennae shot up. Something was amiss. Her mother was the worst liar. ‘What? Have you had a falling out, or something?’ It wouldn’t surprise her if the trio had overdone spending time together and got a bit crotchety with each other.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Eileen said.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘It’s fine, just a little difference of opinion,’ Philip called from the back seat.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Damien,’ Eileen said with a sigh.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Your mother and I don’t agree with continuing to give him space, that’s all.’

  ‘So why haven’t you just gone out there to see him?’

  ‘Ethel knows him better than us – she is related to him, after all,’ Eileen said.

  ‘And we don’t want to get her offside,’ Philip added.

  ‘But you have a legitimate reason – and every right – to be in touch, Dad, you’re part of his enterprise. Why not go out on those grounds? And you’ve clearly got Ethel offside anyway, so you may as well.’ Jacqueline knew she was more annoyed than she should be. She was stressed about her talk and frustrated at not being able to do anything herself about Damien. She was also now a little annoyed with Ethel too. ‘At least call him.’

  ‘I have. He didn’t answer. I left a breezy message asking after the animals. Maybe Ethel’s right.’

  ‘It could be that we’ve just spent too much time together and got on each other’s nerves a little,’ Eileen said.

  ‘Hmm,’ Jacqueline mused, and turned the radio up, though there’d be no singalong today.