by Sam Jasper
‘It’s alright, Shirley,’ Gull says gently. ‘I won’t spill the beans.’
Shirley laughs. ‘I know you won’t, sweetie. Anyway, I’ll stay here this morning until Norah’s gone. If anyone asks where Helen is, just say she’s catching up on … oh, how I hate lying!’
‘I’ll just say she’s busy,’ Gull says.
‘Perfect,’ Shirley sighs. ‘And what she’s busy doing is nobody’s business. Am I right or am I right?’
‘You’re right, Shirley,’ Gull grins.
Shortly after 7.30am, the rest of the CWA members start arriving. In no time, the kitchen is full of warm, friendly faces with loads of bread, fillings and cakes. Hurriedly, Shirley introduces Gull. She smiles at them all, relieved to find that they are not nearly as fierce as she imagined, and not a shield or a spear to be seen.
Glancing at the kitchen clock, Shirley, Helen and Gull excuse themselves pleading paperwork and disappear into the lounge room, shutting the door firmly behind them.
As soon as Helen nods off in her armchair, Gull turns on the computer as Shirley slips out to join the other women. From the lounge room, even with the door closed, Gull can hear the women laughing and chatting, plates and cutlery clanging and spoons stirring in mugs.
* * *
But what’s the answer? Ma thinks to herself as she crouches on Useless’ head, the other mites scattered throughout his fur: they know when to leave Ma alone.
Curling herself into an infinitesimal ball, Ma thinks deeply. Why is Helen falling asleep? She shakes her head. Surely if she’s picking up on this different vibration, she should be dancing. Or singing. Or humming. Or something. Not falling asleep. If she’s so sensitive, why is she falling asleep?
And where is that Cha-Cha hiding? And why doesn’t she answer? Cha-Cha, you know you can’t hide from me forever. She frowns. And I know you can hear me.
* * *
Stretching after several hours have passed, Gull smiles as she clicks out of the Internet. She looks at her empty plate. Need a refill, she thinks. She glances at her watch. Wish Shirley would come back. Oh well! Gull gets up from her desk and goes over to the window and looks out towards the flattened, forlorn paddocks. Then, Shirley walks in.
‘Go and have a break,’ Shirley says. ‘Any new prophecies?’
‘Not so far,’ Gull shrugs. ‘Think I’ll go for a walk.’
‘Good idea,’ Shirley replies. ‘Take your time. I think the CWA is about to finish up for the day anyway. Just see if you can snaffle us something to eat on your way back.’
As Gull leaves the lounge room, she hears the ute pulling up, and sees Lucy by the screen door. Gull notices Norah Sprogg folding and unfolding a tea towel by the kitchen sink. That must be hard work, Gull thinks annoyed. Strange that everybody else can find something more helpful to do.
As the cousins enter the kitchen from different sides of the room, Norah Sprogg clears her throat audibly. ‘Funny isn’t it?’ she begins, ‘With this new crop? Seems that wherever harvesting starts, the crop falls down. I wonder if it has something to do with the three Harvesters.’ She pauses briefly. ‘They’ve all been here first, haven’t they?’ A strange hush falls on the other conversations. ‘I wonder if there’s a blight being carried from this farm to the others?’
The other women straighten up stunned into silence. Lucy and Gull, on opposite sides of the room, stand stock-still. Gull looks over at Lucy and involuntarily takes a step back. Lucy’s eyes are very bright: she is furious. Lucy walks straight over to Norah Sprogg and stands right in front of her. Through gritted teeth, Lucy says clearly, ‘The only blight on our farm, Mrs Sprogg, is you.’
‘Well, I never,’ Norah Sprogg gasps, blustering as she takes a step back. ‘Of all the nerve! Here I am giving my time to help your family. And this is the thanks I get.’ She tightens her grip on the tea towel in her hands, twisting it backwards and forwards. ‘And rudeness from someone who should be very grateful to me. Well, your family deserves everything that’s coming to it,’ she says coldly.
‘Oh, can that be the time?’ one of the other women pipes up nervously, as she starts rearranging the pepper and salt on the kitchen table. Several of the older women look daggers at Norah Sprogg but as she is busy packing up her things, Norah doesn’t seem to notice.
‘Well, I think we’ve finished for today,’ a friendly, plump, older woman says. ‘But we’ll all be back tomorrow, Lucy. Make sure you tell your mother Doris said so,’ she says firmly.
‘I won’t be,’ Mrs Sprogg says sternly. Ominously, she adds, ‘My work here is done.’ With that, she picks up her handbag and trots out, head in the air. They hear her rev up her new Holden and drive off at top speed.
Just then, Lucy bursts into tears and runs past Gull sobbing.
Gull feels torn. Does she run after Lucy? Or stay and try to explain. The trouble is, Gull thinks looking around the room at the stunned women, I saw Mrs Sprogg’s words hit home.
‘Put the kettle on someone. Before we go, we’ll have a cuppa together,’ Doris says firmly.
‘Er,’ Gull says awkwardly, ‘I’ll be back.’ With that, she rushes out of the kitchen and into the lounge room to find Shirley.
Incoherently sobbing at the far end of the study, Lucy is standing with Shirley’s arms around her. ‘She’s okay,’ Shirley mouths to Gull. Relieved, Gull walks back to the kitchen.
‘Is Lucy alright?’ one of the women asks solicitously.
‘She will be soon,’ Gull says grabbing a glass of water.
‘That Norah Sprogg,’ Doris, the plump woman, says shaking her head. ‘She can be a nasty piece of work. A good president, of course, but a pain in the neck. Now that’s she caught that Cyril character …’
‘A spineless looking creature if ever there was one,’ another woman adds.
‘… she thinks she’s the bee’s knees, throwing her weight around and upsetting everyone,’ Doris finishes.
‘Poor Lucy,’ several of the women murmur.
‘So you don’t think it’s true?’ a timid looking woman asks. There’s an uncomfortable silence. A few women start to fidget.
‘What’s true?’ Doris asks innocently.
‘About the blight,’ the timid woman mumbles.
‘Of course it’s not true,’ Doris announces. ‘Stuff and nonsense.’
‘Yes, just coincidence,’ the timid woman says. ‘I suppose,’ she adds softly.
While Gull sips the water, she senses the women splitting into two camps, even though no one moves. I bet those timid ones will side with Norah Sprogg, she thinks. They look like they need someone to follow.
‘We know what Norah’s like,’ Doris says looking keenly at the timid woman. ‘She likes to cause a stir in the district even when there’s no good reason. Must make her feel important, I suppose.’ She straightens her shoulders. ‘But now, ladies, we must all support this family because if we don’t, the whole district is in trouble. Our husbands, sons and daughters are out there working like dogs. If ugly rumours start, we not only hurt the Hepplewhites but we hurt our own families as well.’
‘Hear, hear. You’re right,’ the older women murmur. However, Gull notices the more timid women are looking down at the floor, going out of their way to avoid eye contact.
‘As I said before,’ Doris repeats, ‘we’ll be here tomorrow, Gull. And mind you tell Lucy that from us. She’s got guts that girl,’ she adds. ‘People like Norah Sprogg enjoy dominating people but that’s just bullying when you come down to it.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, I think that’s all,’ she smiles as she replaces the tea towels on the rack. ‘I’d better be getting home. I’ve got the washing to bring in.’
One by one, the women start to pack up. By the time they leave, the kitchen is spick and span. Gull stands at the kitchen door and waves them off. As she’s leaving, Doris gives Gull’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘Chin up,’ she smiles. ‘See you tomorrow.’ Gull smiles gratefully. With a final wave, Gull runs back inside to see how Lucy is. Her co
usin is sitting in one of the armchairs staring into space.
‘I know the whole story,’ Shirley says quietly.
‘That horrible woman!’ Gull blurts out hotly.
‘I hear Doris is rallying the troops.’
‘She’s lovely,’ Gull smiles. ‘And she said she’d be back tomorrow.’
‘Most of them will be,’ Shirley nods. ‘But that’s not what’s worrying me.’
‘What then?’ Gull asks.
‘Well, if a rumour starts that there’s something being carried from here to the other farms, that’s bad. This is a time when we need to stick together. I can’t understand it myself. I mean, hemp doesn’t have any natural predators.’
Just then, they hear a horn blowing at the top gate.
‘Oh, I’ve got to go,’ Lucy says suddenly. ‘That’ll be my ride back.’
‘But why did you come home?’ Gull asks as Lucy stands up.
Lucy looks confused. ‘Don’t know really. Got a funny feeling all of a sudden. Thought I’d come back and check on things.’
‘Now we know why.’ Gull says. ‘Ugh, that woman!’
‘By the way, Lucy,’ Shirley says, ‘I wouldn’t mention Norah Sprogg and this little episode to Harry. He’s got enough on his plate.’
‘Forgotten already,’ Lucy smiles wearily. ‘Come for a ride to the top gate, Gull?’ The two girls dash out the kitchen door.
‘So you just decided to come back for no reason at all?’ Gull asks as they climb into the ute, reverse and charge up to the front gate. ‘Sounds like you’ve got Helen’s gift.’
‘Nah,’ Lucy shakes her head dismissively. ‘Wouldn’t want it. Anyway, I’m too practical for that sort of stuff.’
‘Maybe,’ Gull frowns. ‘But you never know. Helen was telling me her gift didn’t come out until she was fourteen: two years older than you.’ Lucy raises her eyebrows but says nothing. Together, they climb out of the ute: Lucy scrambles into the waiting truck; Gull waves and starts walking back to the farmhouse.
Soon after, Shirley takes her leave after making sure Gull is set up for the day. As much as Gull loves Shirley being around, she’s more than eager to get back to her secret project. Switching on the computer, she brings up the web page she’s been working on. Plugging her digital camera into the computer, she begins to run the film she took earlier that morning. So involved is Gull that she almost misses hearing Helen’s next words.
Helen sighs happily, ‘It’s the little things that count.’
* * *
‘One, two, three, four, five, six,’ Ma recites as she sits on the windowsill of the Folly, counting her strongest mites with Useless lying contentedly underneath. ‘Where’s that Cha-Cha? Still sulking, I’ll be bound. Cha-Cha, where are you?’
* * *
Later that evening, Gull hears the old ute pulling up outside the kitchen door. Inside, Helen and her niece are putting out clean plates for Lucy, Tom and Jake as they slowly stagger into the kitchen.
‘How are the workers of the world tonight?’ Helen asks, looking her three grubby offspring up and down.
‘Pooped,’ Jake says. ‘And starving.’
Tom and Lucy nod in agreement dragging out chairs from around the table.
‘I haven’t had any morning or afternoon tea in ages,’ Tom frowns.
‘Because you have them both at lunchtime,’ Jake laughs. ‘Look at all the food the CWA brought out to us today. Enough for an army.’
‘We are an army,’ Tom mumbles, piling his bread roll high with salad, ham and cheese. ‘At least, we work like one: we do what we’re told and no questions asked. Those old farmers are really hard nuts.’
Helen laughs. ‘Those old farmers,’ she says, ‘had to do it all by hand. No wonder they’re hard nuts.’ Helen picks up the egg basket and is half-way out the door when Lucy asks, ‘Where are you going, Mum?’
‘Just finishing off the chores: if I’m going to sleep all day, the least I can do is help the workers out.’ She walks out, the screen door closing behind her.
‘Now that she’s gone,’ Lucy whispers conspiratorially, ‘we can talk. I filled the boys in on the way home, about this morning.’
‘Yeah!’ Jake says heatedly. ‘What a …’
‘That Norah Sprogg is,’ Tom finishes between mouthfuls.
‘If we could find out what’s really knocking over the hemp, then we could do something,’ Lucy says puzzled. ‘It’s like fighting a battle against an invisible enemy. We need a plan.’
‘And no more mysteries,’ Jake nods as he bites into his corn and red and green capsicum quiche.
‘We’ve got Mum falling asleep, however hard she tries not to,’ Lucy continues. ‘And we have to keep Dad from finding out. I mean, Dad’s worried sick about getting the crop in. On top of that, we all know how guilty he feels about talking the other farmers into growing it: he feels so responsible.’
‘And Shirley’s worried about all of us.’
Tom laughs. ‘Let’s have a competition to see who can worry the most about the most number of things.’
‘Not funny,’ Jake mumbles.
Tom shrugs. ‘Just trying to lighten the atmosphere.’
‘I know,’ Lucy says, playfully throwing a bread roll at him. ‘I guess we’re all worried. But we need to stick together and find out what’s going on.’
‘How?’ the other three pipe up.
‘No idea,’ Lucy says, shaking her head. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Well, I looked up hemp on the website today and trawled through all the information I could find,’ Gull says.
‘And?’ the others ask hopefully.
‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘I even e-mailed the National Farmers’ Federation to see if anything like that had happened to them. That was Helen’s idea.’
‘And?’ three voices ask again.
‘Nothing,’ Gull murmurs. ‘Sorry everybody.’
‘No, that was good thinking,’ Lucy says quickly. ‘Well, now we know it’s only in our area. But why?’
‘That’s what we all want to know,’ Jake says.
‘Well, let’s think about what we can do? What do we need?’
‘More bread rolls,’ Tom says, grabbing the last one.
‘Tom!’ Lucy shouts.
‘What?’
‘Oh, never mind,’ she says annoyed. ‘I mean like things to help: like less farms and more Harvesters.’
‘Yeah, more of those would be a big help,’ Jake agrees.
‘More what?’ Helen asks coming through the door, laden with eggs and vegetables. She puts them down on the kitchen sink and turns to the gang. Lucy explains what they need: more Harvesters.
‘I wonder ..,’ Helen says to herself. Then she walks briskly over to the phone. ‘Why don’t you grubby lot go and have a shower? Gull, could you put away the eggs and wash the vegetables? Thanks,’ she nods, as she begins to dial a number.
By the time Helen hangs up, Gull has the eggs and vegetables ready for tomorrow’s CWA gathering in the kitchen. Together, she and Gull descend on the now squeaky clean threesome. ‘Guess what? Good news! I’ve got two more Harvesters lined up,’ Helen says thrilled.
‘Really?’ Tom asks surprised. ‘How? When?’
‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ Helen replies shaking her head. ‘My two, big brothers are only a few kilometres down the road. They’ve just finished harvesting their wheat crop. So, they’ve got Harvesters that they’re willing to lend us. And they’re bringing them over tomorrow.’
‘Great!’ they chorus.
‘Good news for a change,’ Jake beams. ‘Dad’ll be over the moon.’
‘That’s him now,’ Lucy says hearing Ted’s truck in the distance. ‘Come on, let’s go tell them.’
A few minutes later, looking ten years older, Harry staggers into the kitchen exhausted and falls into a chair, his arms resting on the table. They hear Ted sound the horn and drive off. Useless is in one of his favourite places, under the kitchen table.
‘Good news, Dad,’ Lucy beams. Harry looks at her through bleary eyes.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. You tell him, Mum,’ Tom says graciously. ‘It was your idea.’
‘Well,’ Helen says thrusting a mug of hot tea into Harry’s hand, ‘I’ve just been on the phone to my brothers.’ Quickly she explains her request and their answer.
Harry sighs. ‘Just in the nick of time too,’ he says wearily.
‘Why? What’s happened?’ Gull asks concerned.
‘Yeah, tell us Dad. I can’t bear any more suspense,’ Tom says looking worried.
‘Well,’ Harry says slowly, ‘a rumour’s going around that this farm is contaminated. Farmers on some of the smaller properties are beginning to say they won’t have any of our Harvesters on their properties at all: they’re afraid their crops will fall over too.’
Gull and her cousins look at each in horror. They haven’t told Helen how and where the rumour started, and now it’s too late.
‘But the crops on the smaller farms are still standing, aren’t they?’ Helen asks.‘And you’re scything as well,’ Lucy glares. ‘What more can you do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Harry replies sighing heavily. ‘I reckon the next step is someone will call some Government department, and the Folly will be quarantined. By the time the quarantine is lifted, we’ll all be ruined.’
‘But,’ Helen says thinking quickly, ‘if my brothers take their Harvesters out to the smaller farms without bringing them here …’
The others brighten although Harry seems too tired to concentrate. Jake pushes a plate with a bread roll full of ham, chutney, cheese and tomato in front of his father. Harry eats it listlessly.
‘Then,’ Lucy adds, ‘if the crops fall over, that will prove that whatever it is didn’t come from our farm to begin with.’