The Country Girl

by Cathryn Hein

  If not for the sound of Tash’s phone signalling a text message, the kiss would have progressed into something more. She pecked him one last time before wriggling up.

  ‘They’re about ten kilometres away,’ said Tash, beaming. ‘Ceci says to pour her a giant glass of wine with a wine chaser. Apparently her nerves are shot because Thom nearly hit a fox.’

  Patrick stood, adjusting his jeans with some discomfort. ‘Guess we’d better prepare.’

  Tash took his hand. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Being wonderful.’

  He stroked her face. ‘It should be me saying that to you.’

  ‘You can, later.’ She squeezed his fingers and let go. ‘First, we need wine. And lots of it.’

  As predicted, the following morning broke clear. The farm smelled wonderful, fragrant with wet grass and clean air. When Ceci and Thom wandered over from the main house, Tash served them a full country breakfast of bacon, eggs, hash browns, grilled tomato, baked beans and mushrooms. The boys swallowed theirs down with gusto then topped up their seemingly hollow bellies with more toast and Vegemite.

  Having started a conversation about her website shop design with Thom while they ate, Tash couldn’t seem to stop. As soon as the kitchen was tidy, it was duelling laptops on the bench. With rolling eyes, Ceci and Patrick left them to it and headed outside.

  It was another hour before Tash was satisfied she and Thom were on the same wavelength with the shop build, and after another nag about sending her an invoice, she slid off her stool to make them coffees.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘any progress with Ceci?’

  ‘No.’ The word was heavy with disappointment. Thom stared glumly at his boots. ‘I’m beginning to think there never will be. She’s just too far out of my league.’

  Tash’s heart went out to him. She needed to have a girl talk with Ceci, find out if there was any hope for Thom at all. If there wasn’t, it would be better he knew now so he could recover and move on. Unrequited love was a terrible, painful thing.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ she said, crossing back to give him a buck-up hug. ‘You’re not out of anyone’s league, especially not Ceci’s. You’re the one-punch kid, remember? Anyway, you still have the rest of the weekend ahead. All sorts of miracles happen in the country. Look at me and Patrick.’

  ‘S’pose.’

  She patted his head and went back to making their coffees. Still looking hangdog, Thom wandered outside. Less than a minute later he was back.

  ‘Tash.’

  She glanced up from the frothy milk she was pouring and her stomach lurched at the sight of his face. She set the jug down. ‘What?’

  ‘I think you should come see this.’

  Tash swallowed, not liking the foreboding in his tone. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just come look.’

  He led her to the edge of the terrace and held his hand out for her to stop. Silently, he pointed. Patrick and Ceci were inside Khan’s paddock. They were standing close, heads bent in intense conversation.

  Tash experienced a brief flash of disquiet, then she pulled herself together. Patrick and Ceci were just talking. Intensely, yes, but still only talking. It could have been about anything.

  They looked good together though. Both tall, both beautiful. Having tired of the razor-sharp bob, Ceci had grown her hair and had beachy California-girl extensions expertly threaded in, and the blonde curls cascaded enticingly over her shoulders. Her jeans were tight, her slim brown boots long, and matched the sexy fleece-lined suede bomber jacket that showed off her model’s figure perfectly. Patrick was as handsome as always, his jeans not tight but moulding to his athletic frame. He wore a zip-necked wool jumper with the collar tilted up, his shoulders outlined broadly beneath. With Khan nosing between them, they looked like a couple straight out of a country outfitter’s catalogue.

  ‘They’re just having a chat,’ said Tash.

  ‘That’s more than a chat.’ Thom scuffed a boot, then sent a piece of bark flying. ‘Fuck.’

  She grabbed him and gave him a shake. ‘Stop it. You’re being childish. They’re just talking.’

  For a second Thom held eye contact and seemed to calm, then he glanced over her shoulder and his eyes turned enormous. ‘That’s not just fucking talking.’ He jerked from her grip and stared mutinously as Tash whirled around.

  Patrick and Ceci were embracing. Ceci had her back to them but she could see Patrick’s face and he was smiling. Then he looked up and spotted Tash and Thom. The embrace broke fast. He murmured something that had Ceci spinning around to look. She waved and began walking towards them.

  Tash waved back and looked at Thom. ‘You’re being an idiot. Do you really think Ceci is going to come on to Patrick in front of me? No, she’s not, and Patrick’s a more decent man than that.’

  ‘S’pose.’

  ‘You need to get over yourself and show a bit of faith. Ceci’s never going to want you if you keep sulking like a two-year-old every time she looks at another man.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. All right.’ But Thom didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘You two have finally finished boring the pants off each other then?’ said Ceci.

  ‘It was business,’ snapped Thom.

  Ceci shot Thom a look, then glanced at Patrick but his gaze was locked on Tash.

  Determined not to let this spoil the day, Tash surreptitiously pressed her foot against Thom’s. ‘Yep, all done. Sorry, but I wasn’t sure if we’d get another chance to go over things. How was Khan?’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Ceci. ‘He’s such a sweetie.’

  ‘He is. There’s a sack of carrots in the garden shed, if you want to take him some tomorrow.’ She tilted her head towards the flat. ‘I’ve just made coffee. Did you want some?’

  At the door, Patrick stopped and held out his hand for her to take. She grasped it, feeling the warmth of his touch flood her heart.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Sure? You looked a bit funny before.’

  ‘Morning-after curry.’

  ‘Tash, what you saw …’ He grimaced. ‘It wasn’t anything.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We were—’

  ‘Patrick, stop. I trust you.’ How could she not after last night? She was the best thing in his life. He was the best thing in hers. They’d spoken that aloud, to each other. And it had been the truth.

  He glanced inside. ‘Thom doesn’t.’

  ‘That’s because he doesn’t know you like I do.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’

  Patrick continued to study her for a few moments longer, then he smiled. ‘Come here.’ He dragged Tash close and cuddled her against his chest, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear he’d learned she liked.

  She tilted her head back and beamed up at him. ‘Promise not to get hurt today.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  She tickled him playfully. ‘Not try, do.’

  Patrick laughed and, arm slung around her, kissed her temple and walked her inside, his affection filling Tash with comfort. Leaving Thom’s jealousy outside in the cold, where it belonged.

  At eleven, Patrick left to pick up his footy gear from Wiruna and head into the club. With his departure, the frost that had developed between Thom and Ceci finally thawed and the pair were back to their usual silly, ribbing selves.

  As a favour to Ceci, who wanted to be on camera, Tash had Ceci help prepare several quantities of pizza dough while Thom filmed and cracked jokes. Having made pizza dough to camera before, Tash cut the final footage down to only the funniest moments before uploading it. These short videos were proving popular, and her fans adored her being silly, especially with friends. It made Tash relatable and enhanced her ‘every girl’ image.

  Thom had nominated himself designated driver but Tash’s dad poked his head in to say he’d decided to go to the footy too, and did they want a lift? He’d happil
y ferry them home too, if needed. Hoping a few drinks might encourage Thom and Ceci along even further, Tash jumped at the chance. After loading everyone up with Saints scarves and beanies, she bundled them into her mum’s sedan and half an hour later the group was gathered around a roaring fire drum next to the clubhouse, steaming steak sandwiches and cold beers in hand.

  Bec joined them and soon the afternoon was filled with their laughter. By the time the Saints ran out onto the ground, Tash had a good buzz going. Spotting Patrick jogging out, she wolf-whistled loudly, grinning when he gave her a thumbs-up in acknowledgement.

  ‘How are you two going, anyway?’ asked Bec. ‘Or need I ask? Honestly, Tash, you look like the cat who’s got the cream.’

  ‘She does,’ agreed Ceci. ‘It’s a bit sickening, really. Mind you, I’d be feeling pretty damn smug too if I was shagging Patrick. The man’s a babe.’

  Noting Thom’s stony expression, Tash bumped her shoulder against Ceci’s, almost toppling her sideways. ‘He is, and you can’t have him.’

  ‘Who says I want him?’

  ‘You’d have no chance anyway,’ said Bec. ‘Our Pat only has eyes for Tash these days.’

  Which made Tash feel more than a little warm and fuzzy. If Bec had noticed Patrick’s devotion, it had to be true.

  It was an ugly, scrappy game of football. The ground was already churned up thanks to the earlier junior competition, but the bigger, harder and faster senior men soon turned it into a quagmire. Mud coated some players’ guernseys so thickly it was almost impossible to work out which team they were on. The ball was a slippery bullet, but the Saints were dogged in attack and by half-time held a narrow lead.

  Steam rose from the players as they trudged off the ground. Tash cheered loudly, Bec and Ceci adding to the chorus, while a still slightly sulky Thom headed off to the bar for more beers. Patrick threw Tash a muddy wink as he passed, causing her insides to somersault in delight, and Ceci to roll her eyes.

  ‘It’s pathetic,’ she said.

  ‘It’s bloody wonderful,’ said Tash.

  Unfortunately, the Saints failed to hold on to their lead and despite the best efforts of Patrick and Clip, who seemed to be trying to win the game between themselves, by full-time the Saints had lost by eleven points. The team trudged wearily off the ground but were applauded by fans who, though disappointed, appreciated their effort. The Castlereagh crew, led by Tash and Bec, cheered loudest of all.

  Tash was well aware she should have stopped drinking a long time ago, but for some reason didn’t object to Ceci topping up her wineglass yet again. She was having too much of a good time. The flat was redolent with the scent of pizza, and filled with friends and family noisily enjoying themselves. Patrick was with Clip and Tash’s dad, discussing the game, while Thom and Bec were chatting happily to her mum.

  Ceci dumped the bottle back in the fridge and joined her. ‘This is fun.’

  ‘It is.’ Tash took a sip of sauvignon blanc. Between work and Patrick, it felt like ages since Tash had last let her hair down. While never in Ceci’s league, back in Melbourne Tash had been a regular party girl. Most of the time she didn’t miss it a scrap, but for some reason today, with her friends close, she felt like letting loose. She slid a sideways look at Ceci. ‘Thom’s looking pretty sexy these days.’

  Ceci raised her glass in a mock toast. ‘Subtle, Tash. Well done.’

  ‘I thought so.’ She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘You and Mohammed Ali.’

  Ceci brooded over her wine for a moment, tapping the glass with a scarlet nail. ‘Did Thom put you up to this?’

  ‘No. All my own initiative and the burning ambition to see two darling friends get it on.’

  ‘You know the trouble with people in love?’ said Ceci. ‘They’re drugged up to the eyeballs on it and think everyone else should feel the same.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that.’

  Ceci shook her head and took a long slug of wine, and resumed her fingernail tapping. ‘I like him. A lot. You know I do.’

  ‘I’m sensing a big fat “but” here.’

  For a while Ceci simply stared at Thom, then she lowered her head. ‘If we try, and it doesn’t work out, it’ll mean the end of our friendship.’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  ‘Yes, necessarily. It’s the way it works.’ Ceci looked up, anguish in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to lose him, Tash. He means too much.’

  It was a worry Tash understood. She’d suffered the same doubts with Patrick. ‘But surely the gain is worth the risk?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Tash glanced at Thom. He was watching them, a mixture of hope and worry on his face. She quickly looked away in case he recognised the pity in her own expression. ‘I think you’re wrong. I think what you could have with him is worth every risk.’ She tilted her head and gave Ceci a puppy-dog look. ‘Try? For me?’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘He saved you from a marauding ex.’

  Ceci rolled her eyes.

  ‘He would never hurt you, never cheat on you.’

  Ceci pointed a finger, her expression narrowed. ‘You’re not playing fair.’

  ‘He’s handsome and funny and most of all he loves you.’

  ‘I can’t, Tash.’

  ‘You can. Go on, be the brave Ceci I know you are.’

  With a long sigh, Ceci caved. ‘All right. But if things go wrong, I’m blaming you.’

  Chapter 39

  Patrick exchanged a quick, conspiratorial smile with Ceci as Thom hugged Tash goodbye. Thanks to his long chat with Ceci on Saturday morning Patrick knew exactly what he needed to do, and this week he planned to put it into action.

  With everyone except Patrick sporting mild hangovers, and needing a morning of Tash’s good food and even better coffee to perk them up, it was mid-afternoon before Thom felt up to the drive back to Melbourne. At least the day was merely cloudy rather than rainy, and visibility wouldn’t be a problem. One less thing for Tash to fret about.

  Patrick shook hands with Thom. He was comfortable enough with Tash these days not to be jealous of Thom, but that didn’t mean Patrick trusted him. And besides, Patrick wanted to be Tash’s best male friend. He also remembered too vividly how Thom had looked and acted when he’d spotted Patrick and Ceci hugging, and he was pretty frigging sure the little shit had tried to put ideas in Tash’s head about it too. Patrick had wanted to punch him for that. Hard. Looking at Thom now, he had the idea the feeling might be mutual.

  After a seemingly never-ending hug, Tash finally let Ceci settle into the passenger seat. She shut the door and wound down the window, only for Tash to immediately lean inside. ‘Promise.’

  ‘Yes, yes. All right.’

  ‘Good.’ She stepped away, apparently satisfied, and looked at Thom, her expression softening. ‘Please drive carefully.’

  ‘Yes, Mum. I’ll shoot you some more mock-ups next week, okay? Then we’ll talk.’

  ‘Thanks. And don’t forget to send me an invoice. I mean it.’

  But Thom merely grinned and gave a last salute before lowering himself into the car.

  Tash walked to Patrick’s side. He draped an arm around her and tucked her close in an unmistakable show of unity. They both waved as Thom guided the car down the drive and stayed watching until he’d disappeared, tooting a merry tune on the horn, out of sight down Castlereagh Road.

  Tash let out a long sigh. ‘I so hope they get themselves sorted.’

  ‘Up to Ceci, I guess.’ Patrick steered her towards the flat. ‘What did you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?’

  ‘I don’t know. What did you want to do?’

  He slid her a wicked look.

  Tash poked him. ‘I should have figured that.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with a bit of afternoon delight. Especially with you.’

  ‘Your dad is going to think I’m the worst influence.’

  Patrick slid
open the door for her, sneaking a caress of her bum as she passed through. Tash had a great bum. Tash had a great everything. ‘He doesn’t. He adores you. Mum does too. Everyone does.’

  Tash turned to drape her arms around his neck. Her eyes were beginning to hood the way they did when her mind turned to sex. ‘Including you?’

  He slid the door closed and locked it, then pressed Tash against the wall, his hands roving as he nuzzled the spots he’d discovered did magic things to her. ‘Me more than anyone.’

  Patrick arrived home early Sunday evening to find his mum eating lasagne and salad in front of the telly with the sound turned right up. His dad was in town, helping a cousin with some chore, and she was indulging in her favourite reality TV talent show. Waving aside her offer to fetch him a plate of his own, Patrick whipped up a couple of toasties and joined her.

  ‘Nice to have your company,’ said Annette.

  He grinned. ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘I don’t know why you just don’t move in together.’

  ‘Maybe we will.’ He’d been thinking about it. A lot. The question was where. The Poppy Flat was tiny and also Tash’s place of business. There were cameras and tripods and computer gear always lying around, and though cosy, it wasn’t really the sort of place Patrick had in mind when it came to starting a life with her. Assuming Tash wanted it.

  He hoped so. Christ, he hoped so.

  ‘That serious?’

  Patrick shrugged. As far as he was concerned it was, and if all went to plan, by the end of the week he’d know exactly how serious it was for Tash too.

  Annette patted his hand. ‘She’s a lovely girl. Your dad and I couldn’t be more delighted.’

  After helping tidy up, Patrick retreated to his room and his laptop. To his annoyance the flights he wanted were booked up. He’d forgotten it was school holidays, with every man and his dog and kids desperate to escape the southern cold for the Queensland sun.