Maggie Butcher, who ran the corner store, seemed to understand how she felt. When Anna went in Maggie would just smile, ask how Ella was and ring up her purchases. She didn’t push or pry, which Anna appreciated. And it wasn’t just the gossips Anna wanted to avoid; it was her own mother-in-law as well.
Laura had complained about the front door being locked. ‘I want to pop in and cuddle my gorgeous granddaughter,’ she’d said.
Anna had looked at her incredulously. Laura couldn’t understand that the theft had left Anna feeling violated, if not downright scared of leaving the doors unlocked. Still, reluctant to show any weakness, she’d tried to leave the front door unlocked, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking through each and every room before it got dark, checking that no one had entered without her hearing. Oh, she knew that the thieves hadn’t entered her house on the farm, but the fear that they might come back for more haunted her. Not that she and Matt had much left except each other.
The first time Anna was alone in the house and heard the squeak of the front door opening she’d frozen automatically, thinking it was a burglar, and looked for a weapon to protect herself. Then she chided herself for being so silly, knowing it would be Matt, and walked into the lounge to greet him with a smile and a hug. Instead it was her mother-in-law Laura, and Anna wondered why she hadn’t knocked or at least called out, as most people in country towns would have done. Not Laura.
The overzealous Grandma thing had really got on Anna’s nerves, especially the day she found Laura standing over Ella’s cot, stroking her face as the child slept.
‘Tell me you’re here!’ Anna shouted in her head.
‘You don’t mind do you, love?’ Laura had asked her a few weeks after they had moved to town. ‘It’s so nice having Ella just around the corner. I never really saw her that much when you lived on the farm.’
Anna opened her mouth, then looked at Laura’s expectant face. Even though she found it intrusive, how could she crush a woman who just wanted to spend time with her grandchild, especially at a time when Anna and Matt needed space to heal. So she had shaken her head.
‘No, not at all! Ella loves it when you’re here.’
Anna was rewarded with a bright smile.
If Laura had offered a sympathetic ear or words of comfort, Anna perhaps wouldn’t have been so annoyed at her silent entries. But there was nothing like that. Laura didn’t even seem to understand the trauma her son and his family had gone through. She came for Ella and Ella only.
Anna ached for her own mother, but she’d been stripped of her mum’s support a long time ago. Her Dad was always on the end of the phone, but she was loath to worry him. He certainly had enough problems of his own.
Rob and Nick called more regularly than they had done before, just to check on them, but after time even their calls dwindled. They were like everyone else. Busy. Everyone, that was, except Matt and Anna, who had more time on their hands than they could deal with.
The compassion and support she craved came, unexpectedly, from Matt’s father, Ian. In his short but comforting visits he reassured her that Matt would come through this blackness and encouraged her to hang in there. He would squeeze her shoulder, tickle Ella to make her laugh and head to the backyard to sit with his son.
Kate was the only person who wasn’t family whom Anna was always pleased to see. She would come laden with freshly laid eggs or a bag of home-grown chops, but it was her hugs and kind words that kept Anna sane. She’d needed them and she sure hadn’t got them from Matt, even though she’d offered plenty of sympathy to him.
As the months passed and Matt hadn’t shown any sign of coming out of his hermit-like state, Anna had begun to feel the strain of trying to handle everything herself. Running the house and, as ever, the lack of money became too much for her some days. Matt was in the house all the time. On the farm she would have loved having him around; they would have talked and laughed or snuck away during Ella’s sleep to make love. But the dark mood he seemed permanently shrouded in made having him around every waking moment very difficult.
Tonight, however, she tried to take Matt’s father’s advice and fight the annoyance rising within her. Hopefully Matt would realise he wasn’t the only one who was finding their change in circumstances hard. She didn’t like town much either, but what she missed most was the relationship she and Matt once had.
In the past, they had talked about everything, sharing what had happened during their day over a beer at night, while they did the dishes together and when they went to bed. They were as close as two people could be. Their relationship worked because they were friends as well as lovers. Indeed, she knew their relationship was the envy of many in the district. Kate had once told her: ‘If you and Matt ever break up, I’ll stop believing in love!’
Anna had laughed. ‘Break up?’ she’d responded. ‘Never!’
‘Oh good, I hate to think of a world without love.’ Though Kate had grinned, Anna knew she’d meant every word.
Now, uneasily, she had wondered if they might separate after all. She felt like it had been years since Matt had talked about his feelings, what he was thinking. Actually, he’d just about stopped talking at all, save minimal conversation when he couldn’t get away with grunts. She couldn’t understand why he’d turned away from her when they’d always looked to each other for comfort.
Recently, if she ever did ask how he felt, he just snapped,‘How do you think I feel?’ Eventually she’d stopped asking.
She rolled over in bed, wiping away a stray tear. Their life had been so great. Hard financially, granted, but money wasn’t everything. They’d had the farm, a beautiful child and, best of all, they’d had each other. Now the ‘each other’ part was slipping away.
Anna had tried to carry on as normal, but they couldn’t go on like this.The sombre mood enveloping the house had to lift. There had to be laughter and fun again. Surely the only way to achieve that was to get back some semblance of normal life.
Anna felt Matt needed to get a job. He needed a purpose, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, since obviously she and Ella weren’t enough to help get him moving.
She’d mentioned the idea to Ian of Matt finding employment, but he just shook his head.‘More time, Anna, give him more time.’
That had been a while ago though. Surely it was time now.
Hearing the Saturday night crowd starting to leave the pub, she got up, put on her dressing gown and went to find Matt.
He was sitting on the swing with his head bowed, the moonlight reflecting off the crown of his head like a halo. Anna knew that underneath all the grief there was a cheeky, fun-loving man. She had to find a way to bring that man back to the surface, to help him break through the bleakness engulfing him.
She opened the back door and went out to sit with him. They stayed silent, listening to the night sounds of the small town: front doors slamming, faraway voices cutting through the air, dogs barking and, even further in the distance, the rumbling sounds of late-night harvesting.
After a while, Anna reached up to slip her hand into Matt’s. For a moment she thought he was going to pull away, as he had done so often over the past few months, but his warm fingers curled around hers, hanging on tight. Anna squeezed his hand and smiled into the darkness.
‘Going okay?’ she asked, squeezing his hand again.
‘Not really,’ Matt answered after a moment’s silence.
‘Is there something I can do to make things easier for you? You know I would if I could.’
He sighed and turned to her. ‘I don’t think so, hon. I guess it’s something I’ll just have to work through by myself.’
Sitting on the ground, she could feel his legs moving against her side as the swing gently swayed. Her heart ached at the pain in his voice, but there was good in what he’d just said. He’d finally spoken, out loud, about his feelings.
They sat there, hands entwined, until at last Anna unwillingly took her hand from Matt’s and stood. ‘My
knees are aching and my bum has gone to sleep!’ she said, wiggling her hips, to try to get the circulation flowing. ‘I must be too old for sitting on the ground these days. Are you ready to go inside?’
‘Not yet,’ said Matt. ‘But you go. I’ll be in soon.’
Her reaction to his low, gravelly voice surprised her. Desire ran through her body. How long it had been, how she ached to hold him, feel close to him again. It had been so long since they’d touched. Since they had loved.
Tentatively, she reached out her hand to him.
‘Come with me, Matt,’ she said softly, leaning down to kiss him.
When he jerked away Anna didn’t move. She just waited, her eyes pinned on his face, her arm outstretched, willing him to take her hand and follow.
Matt looked up at her and she could see the moonlight reflected in his eyes. She looked again. Yes, she was sure he wanted her too.
She touched his shoulder and whispered again, ‘Come with me.’
Slowly he reached up and took her hand.
Anna’s heart was singing as she led him back into the house, down the passageway and into their bedroom.
The next morning, when Anna woke, she was relieved to see Matt still lying next to her. She smiled as she relived the night in her mind. Wonderful!
She felt like the weight had lifted off her shoulders and hoped her Matt of old was back. All her doubts about their relationship had evaporated last night. They were back on track, she was sure of it.
She ran her hands over his back and gently coaxed him awake.
‘Morning, gorgeous,’ she said softly.
‘Morning,’ he said quietly. Anna’s heart sank as she saw the distance had returned to his eyes.
‘Coffee?’ she asked. ‘I could bring it to you in bed? Ella hasn’t woken yet. We could . . . You know!’ She gave him a shy smile.
Matt was silent as Anna got out of bed to put the kettle on and then he got up too.
‘I’ll pass on the coffee in bed,’ he said.
Trying to hide her disappointment, Anna nodded. Maybe he wanted to talk. Hopefully.
By the time Matt sat at the table, there was a steaming cup of coffee in his regular spot and Anna was slipping into her chair.
‘Last night was wonderful,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Matt stared into his coffee. Clearly he had nothing further to say.
‘I can’t bear walking on eggshells anymore,’ she thought, and the realisation she was running out of patience with him shocked her. ‘No,’ she told herself. ‘It won’t be like this forever. You need to support him for as long as it takes. He did it for you.’
Anna’s mother Lacey had been driving when an aneurysm claimed her. Her father, Peter, was in the passenger’s seat when his wife had suddenly slumped forward, causing the car to career off the road. His legs and hips had been trapped under the dashboard and his spinal cord severed, leaving him a paraplegic.
Through the cloud of grief that had overwhelmed Anna as she dealt with her mother’s death and her father’s injury, Matt had been her constant support. He’d driven her wherever she’d needed to go, talked to the doctors and broken the news to her that her father would be confined to a wheelchair forever. And all that time, he’d still run the farm, never once complaining about the long stints she’d spent with her dad in Adelaide, until her brother Rob had taken over his care.
She often thought of the night that Matt had driven the two hours to the city just to give her a hug after a long, stressful day.
Yes, he had more than supported her. Now it was her turn to do the same for him.
Chapter 7
A week later
Matt was angry but was trying hard not to show it. He had made himself go into the backyard and breathe deeply, with his eyes shut, not wanting to think about the loss of the farm and the emotions swirling inside him.
It wasn’t just anger, either. It was hurt, sadness, a sense of failure and every other bloody emotion he could imagine. He had looked for something he could enjoy doing around the house today, something that would make him feel worthwhile, useful. But he hadn’t found it.
Firstly he’d decided to fix the sheet of tin that had woken him last night by banging in the wind. The constant clanging had driven him mad and, at first light, he’d headed out to the back of his ute where he kept his toolbox, and grabbed his hammer. He fossicked around in the garage, trying to find some nails, but he couldn’t find them anywhere he looked. Angrily, he’d thrown the hammer onto the cement and strode inside. If he’d been on the farm he would have known exactly where to look, in fact he would have had the choice of using nails, screws, tech screws or even pop-rivets. But he didn’t here. It had all been sold.
‘Stuffed if I’m going to buy any more,’ he thought as he slumped in the kitchen chair and gave up on fixing it.
The second thing he’d tried to do was to clean out the chook shed. He raked the manure out and gathered it into the wheelbarrow to throw in the corner of the yard for Anna to use later. Then he went to change the hay in the nesting boxes. No hay. He couldn’t get any hay without borrowing some from Sam or another farmer. As he looked despairingly at the ground, he realised that in the feed tray were Layers Pellets. Layers Pellets bought from a store. Why was Anna feeding them Layers Pellets? She should be giving them grain.
Then he understood. There was no grain. It was all still on the farm.
Matt shut his eyes. He couldn’t do a simple job without the loss of the farm being rubbed in his face. Finally, not wanting to go out, he had sent Anna to the merchandise store for a bag of sawdust and feed.
Coming out of the dim chook house, Matt was blinded by the sun and tripped over Bindy, Anna’s old dog. She yelped in surprise as Matt tumbled down on top of her and it took all of his self-control not to yell and lash out at her.
By the time he’d gone back inside the house it was after lunch, so he flopped in front of the TV while Anna made a cup of tea and a sandwich.Then he heard it: the strains of Landline and the dulcet tones of Pip Courtney reporting on a new variety of barley that would be perfect for this area. He hadn’t realised the show was repeated on a Monday.
His fists clenched as he fumbled for the remote control. In his haste to turn off the weekly farming show that he had watched every Sunday, he accidentally hit the wrong button and Pip’s voice was amplified throughout the house. Cursing at not only the noise but his overreaction to something so small, he flung the remote to the floor and stalked across to the TV to turn it off manually. Not before he heard Ella cry and realised the noise had woken her.
For a moment chaos reigned. Ella screamed, Anna ran to her and the man Pip was interviewing droned on about why this was the barley to end all barley. Matt wanted to throw his hands over his ears and curl up in a ball.
Finally he found the off switch and there was quiet once more.
He found Anna in the kitchen, quickly finishing off making the sandwich, juggling Ella on her hip.
‘I’ll take her,’ he said, reaching out for her.
‘Here, Ella, go to Daddy,’ Anna said as she leaned towards Matt.
Ella, her face still red from sleep, wasn’t in the mood to be passed from one parent to another. She opened her mouth and started to yell, a high, earpiercing shriek. Matt blinked in surprise and backed away for a moment, then frowned.
‘I’ll finish the sandwich,’ he muttered and was thankful as Anna disappeared down the passage to settle Ella.
While eating his lunch, he flicked through the paper, searching for articles that could be related to his fertiliser or any other farm theft. Nothing. He had been targeted he was sure. But why? And by whom? Whoever had taken it had to have had inside knowledge that there would be fertiliser on the ground that night. There was no way it could be just pot luck.
He tried to quell the anger, to think about something else, but it was all-consuming. ‘Stop it,’ he told himself sternly. ‘Stop it, now. You’re making everything worse by dwelling on it.’
All the emotions were there, fudging the edge of his thoughts, his sights, his actions. There was something else there too. Denial. It wasn’t his fault the farm had been sold. If the fertiliser hadn’t been taken he would have had a great year. No. The blame lay squarely on the shoulders of the thief. And with all these feelings inside of him he couldn’t quell the frustration he felt as scene by scene, the last six months replayed themselves in his mind.
Finally he knew he had to leave the house, even though it was almost dark and the day seemed to have disappeared in a haze of bad temper. ‘I’m off for a drive,’ he called to Anna, who was bathing Ella. Without waiting for a response, he let the door bang behind him, as he walked to his ute. Automatically he whistled and looked around for Jasper, but there was only Bindy, smiling, her tongue hanging out and looking wistfully at the back of the ute.
‘Fuck it,’ he swore. ‘Just fuck it,’ and almost ran to his ute, the need to get away was so strong.
As he drove around aimlessly he realised running wouldn’t help. After all, his thoughts and feelings came with him wherever he was. He groaned and thumped the steering wheel.
Matt stopped on the edge of a dirt road to watch the sun set, drawn to the shadows that were long and dark. The sun slipped further below the hills. A warm breeze stirred and he listened to the birds calling to their mates that it was time to roost. He relaxed a little.
At least out here he could breathe.
He sat on the bonnet of the ute for some time, listening to the sounds of nature. Then he heard something odd, something that made his hair stand on end. Matt didn’t move but strained to listen. All was silent again. He must have imagined the noise that sounded like a scream. Maybe it was a bird cry. Or maybe it was the screech of a hydraulic ram needing oil. As he listened for a while longer, he was sure he could hear a machine working. That must have been it; a hydraulic ram.
Climbing back into his ute, Matt saw that it was well and truly dark. For a moment he gazed at the sky hoping to see a falling star. Maybe he could make a wish. He started the engine and flicked on his lights, before checking to his left and right. Over the crest of the hill, he could see the glow of car lights coming. He still had time to pull out, so he swung the ute onto the road and weaved his way back from the gravel roads he had driven seeking peace, to the bitumen, and reluctantly followed the highway back to Spalding.
Purple Roads Page 4