Wattle Creek

by Fiona McCallum

  Jacqueline was concerned with what she was hearing and thought it wise to stop him and discuss his revelations and their consequences. But she couldn’t help being impressed by how calm and together he seemed, so she determined to interrupt him at the slightest sign of distress or negativity and sat listening with amazement at what he’d discovered.

  Anyway, she thought, smiling inwardly, she probably wouldn’t be able to get a word in if she wanted to. It was like he was so excited he couldn’t get it all out fast enough. His behaviour was nothing like the shy, uncommunicative Damien McAllister she’d met only weeks before.

  Jacqueline kept her attention focused on what he was saying, convinced he would crack at any moment. It wasn’t every day someone realised the past nine or so years had been a waste and were okay with it. And that, in effect, seemed to be what he was saying.

  ‘… But then Mum said I’d always wanted to be a farmer,’ he continued. ‘I’d forgotten I used to always be out planting pretend crops and rounding up mobs of imaginary sheep. So I reckon instead of being the third in a line of farmers doing this just coz, I’m really the first in a – hopefully – long line of real ones,’ he concluded, then sat staring at Jacqueline in anticipation.

  ‘Wow, that’s quite a leap forward,’ Jacqueline said, still processing what he’d said and his oddly matter-of-fact way of saying it.

  But she was a little confused. Did this mean he thought he was or was not supposed to be a farmer? And had he decided he did or did not still want to be one?

  ‘So, where to from here?’ she asked, hoping she wasn’t giving her confusion away.

  ‘That’s a good question,’ Damien said, sounding more like the doctor than the patient. ‘I’ve done nothing but think about this since. And other things,’ he added, looking at her shyly.

  ‘And?’ Jacqueline urged, shifting in her chair.

  ‘And I’ve decided it’s business as usual, more or less,’ he said proudly.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Jacqueline said, unable to contain all of her deflated anticipation. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t ‘business as usual’.

  She felt her insides contract with the pull of disappointment. What was the point of discovering yourself if you were only going to shrug it off? Immediately she admonished herself for her selfish thoughts. All that mattered was he’d found himself and seemed content with what he’d learnt.

  Suddenly Jacqueline realised Damien was speaking again. He was carrying on excitedly and she realised that during her lapsed concentration she’d missed some of what he’d said. But something inside told her it didn’t matter, that the consultation had ended and he was now talking to her as a friend, telling her all about his plans to stop being mere caretaker of his father’s farm and run it how he wanted, make his own mark.

  And Jacqueline knew he would do just that. There was determination in his voice and a sparkle in those deep, brown eyes that were threatening to swallow her whole.

  It was only when he suddenly became quiet and shyly suggested he’d better be going and was up and at the door that Jacqueline realised he must have caught her staring at him. God, how embarrassing.

  ‘Wait!’ she said, but it was too late, the door had closed behind him and he was out of earshot. ‘You idiot,’ she moaned, and banged her fist on the desk. God knows why he thought you were staring. So much for being professional.

  Jacqueline spent her lunch hour in her office. The last thing she wanted was to go across to the bakery for her usual egg, lettuce and mayonnaise knot roll and be confronted with Damien also buying his lunch before heading back to the farm.

  And it wouldn’t get much worse than a psychologist appearing in public as a blundering idiot, which she would if she saw Damien now. Yes, best she stay put until she knew she could be trusted not to make a fool of herself again.

  After the fourth Tim Tam from her tea tray, Jacqueline’s stomach was protesting, and she began to see the humour in her hiding from Damien. She smiled dryly. What must he think? Laughing, she began preparing for the next appointment.

  After work, Jacqueline wandered around the house as she tried to understand the mixed emotions surging through her. She folded and put away her clean washing and then ate boiled eggs on toast for dinner. Still feeling mopey, she prepared herself a large bowl of vanilla ice-cream liberally covered in a layer of crunchy Milo and settled in front of the television.

  Ethel, who had been to the other side of the district visiting her newborn granddaughter, bounded inside when Jacqueline reluctantly answered the door, clearly oblivious of her melancholic mood. Jacqueline listened half-heartedly to Ethel’s loving and painfully precise description of the new family member and found herself wondering if and how many children she would have.

  Then she became angry with herself. Why was she attracted to someone who stood for everything she had tried to avoid? What was making her think like this? The one thing she despised about her parents was their settling in a rut, living in the same house with the same friends forever. So why then was she feeling like all she wanted was someone – namely, Damien – to wrap his arms around her and say they’d be together forever?

  She thought about telling Ethel of her confusion, but didn’t want to interrupt her friend’s obvious joy. And of course the last thing she wanted was to appear out of control. That was hardly professional. Anyway, what would you say? she asked herself. Finally Ethel left, still unaware of Jacqueline’s detachment and feigned polite enthusiasm.

  What a huge difference Squish had made to Damien’s state of mind. She yearned for the wet nuzzle and comfort of a warm, non-judgemental pet. For the first time in years she thought about Storm, the caramel-coloured King Charles spaniel, who had brought so much joy to her as a child. It was the pain of losing him that had made Jacqueline realise she couldn’t follow in her father’s footsteps and become a vet. She knew her announcement had hurt him deeply.

  Now more than ever she wished she’d told him the reason. But it was too late, the moment had passed. She felt foolish for once having such a simplistic view of the world and, even more so, for changing the course of her life based on it.

  Jacqueline picked up the phone and dialled the number of her parents’ house, which had remained unchanged her whole life, except for the eight that had been added sometime in the nineties.

  ‘Mum … hi … it’s me,’ she said, when her mother finally answered.

  ‘Oh darling,’ Eileen Havelock cooed, ‘Dad and I were just talking about you.’

  Jacqueline smiled. While they may have just been discussing her, it was something they habitually said, like other people asked, ‘How are you?’ Nonetheless, it made her feel better anyway.

  ‘And finishing our baklava,’ Eileen added.

  Jacqueline smiled again. Every Friday night her parents walked the ten minutes to their local Thai restaurant, ate green chicken curry accompanied by a lone beer, then walked home via the Greek restaurant where they ordered a takeaway piece of baklava each. This ritual had been going on for years, even though the Thai restaurant had been bought and sold at least twice.

  Jacqueline felt comforted that everything on the other end of the phone line was normal. Her mother’s voice interrupted her silent musing.

  ‘Actually, dear, we were just about to ring you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jacqueline said, wondering what was so important that couldn’t wait until their usual Sunday catch-up.

  ‘Yes,’ her mother continued, ‘we’re coming back to see you. On Monday.’

  ‘But you were just here?’ Jacqueline blurted, and then silently regretted her hasty words. ‘I mean …’ she said, trying to correct her response, but her mother cut in.

  ‘Well the new neighbours three doors up are making a hell of a racket with their renovating, and since your father’s got Jeffrey to rely on we thought we’d get away for a few days. A longer stay, this time. Now we don’t want to put you out. We can always stay in the motel if it’s not
convenient.’

  Jacqueline felt a pang of suspicion. Did her mother sound slightly on edge or was she imagining it?

  ‘Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome. Stay as long as you like.’

  ‘We want to come for the whole week, so we’ll understand if you don’t want …’

  ‘Mum,’ she warned.

  ‘Anyway, Dad wants a quick word now he’s finished licking the syrup off his plate,’ Eileen said, chuckling.

  While she waited for her father to come on the line, Jacqueline tried to conjure up an image of her refined parents licking the final remains of dessert off their plates. Never, she told herself. Her mother must be having her on. Hers were the type of parents who, without fail, sat at the dining table for meals. But Jacqueline was surprised to detect the sound of the television in the background.

  ‘Loved the place so much we can’t stay away,’ Philip Havelock said, without greeting.

  ‘Well I look forward to seeing you again,’ Jacqueline said.

  ‘Now, I want you to call that nice young man, Damien, and tee up the drive around he promised, for the following Sunday if possible,’ he instructed.

  ‘Okay,’ Jacqueline said, instantly feeling her spirits lifting. ‘I’ll get onto it right away,’ she added, copying her father’s ultra-efficient tone.

  After a few more minutes spent talking about the weather and what the neighbours were up to, Jacqueline was finally free to phone Damien. And with a very plausible reason, she was pleased to tell herself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Damien spent a few hours wandering the aisles of the two agriculture supplies stores in town. It was like he couldn’t make himself leave town and go home because doing so might reverse all he’d figured out. Like the reality of being home would bring back his old reality. He didn’t really believe that would happen, but he couldn’t think why else he was having so much trouble turning the ute towards home. He was feeling a little confused too. He put that down to being tired after the night spent cramped up in the ute. But it had been worth every uncomfortable second. He looked across at the tiny body snoozing in the sun on the seat beside him.

  It was near five when he finally told himself to stop being so ridiculous and go home. He’d have to do it sometime. And anyway, the shops would be shutting soon.

  He concentrated on keeping his speed down until he passed the 110km sign and gunned the engine. The dark grey road with white dots disappeared quickly beneath him.

  As he turned from the bitumen onto the rough dirt road, he hit the large pothole he’d managed to miss most times for the past six months or so. He’d been silent and thoughtful for the whole journey so far, but it was like the sudden jolt had loosened his tongue.

  ‘Eh, Squish, what do you reckon about Jacqueline? She was so … I don’t know … She wasn’t unfriendly, more I don’t know, professional. I guess that’s it. It was like last night never happened. But it did. God, just to have been able to wrap my arms around her, even just once – and she was the one who asked me. Shit mate, I’m confused.’

  First she’d been really distant, and then he thought she’d stared at him like she was keen to take things further. Damien wondered if anyone understood women. Not him, anyway.

  But he was pleased he’d sorted his own life out. And he had.

  ‘Things are going to change around here, my little mate. And for the better.’ Damien hoped there would be no more bumbling along the road to God knows where.

  He drove past the house and parked near the dog yard. He let Bob and Cara off and leapt back into the ute before they could put their dirty paws all over him in their excitement at being freed. He really should have got changed first. He’d got all dressed up for Jacqueline. He thought he looked quite sharp if he said so himself. She’d definitely noticed, but it hadn’t seemed to matter because she’d slipped straight into business mode.

  He waited a few moments while the two dogs ran around burning off some energy, and Bob cocked his leg on all his favourite spots. Once they’d calmed down and were milling around at the driver’s door, he wound his window down and yelled at them to get up. They leapt onto the back and stood there with expectant expressions, panting. He couldn’t be bothered getting out and chaining them up and risking arms covered in slobber. He’d just have to drive slowly.

  Damien put the vehicle into gear and made his way through the middle of the farm, into and around the three paddocks holding sheep, pausing at the troughs near the gateways to check they were clean and full of water. With everything looking okay, he drove back to the house. It was almost seven o’clock when he finally parked the ute in the carport and went inside. The evidence of his cleaning spree was clear as soon as he walked in the back door. He grinned, feeling very pleased with himself. He felt great, a real sense of satisfaction.

  ‘Jeez, this joint is bloody tidy,’ he said as he moved into the kitchen and then the dining room. I can’t believe I actually cleaned my house. He could hear his mother saying, ‘Now, just keep it tidy’.

  He found himself thinking about how his whole life was starting to fall into place. Well not quite his whole life – he was still a single sad sack. But he was working on that. Maybe there was some truth to that saying his mum was always on about: ‘Tidy life, tidy mind’. He was certainly feeling pretty good right about now, standing there in his tidy house.

  ‘Eh, Squish, do you reckon we could manage a small dinner party? Eh, come back here. I said small, nothing too ambitious.

  ‘What about a barbie then? You can have your own chop. Oh you like that idea, do you? Reckon Jacqueline would come? You like her too, don’t you? Suppose I can only ask. What’s another knockback, eh Squish? Her parents were nice, weren’t they? That’s always a good sign. Hope they come back soon.’

  Damien wandered through the house to his bedroom, admiring his handiwork as he went, and changed into more comfortable jeans for sitting in front of the television. Squish stayed by his side.

  ‘Hey, do you think she can never go out with me because I was a patient? You know, because of the “rules” and all that? Of course there’s always going to be the issue of her knowing how screwed up I am – no, was. From now on, everything’s going to be different.

  ‘Maybe she’ll only think I want her because she helped so much. Jeez Squish, you would have an even better view of her legs. But it’s more than that. No, honestly it is. It’s like, I don’t know, it’s like …’ Damien couldn’t figure out what it was like so he gave up.

  Back in the kitchen he opened the fridge and looked for some inspiration of what to have for dinner. There was a pot of leftover spag bol his mother must have put there. As he stared at it he realised he wasn’t hungry. He should be, he’d only had a ham, cheese and salad roll all day.

  Damien shut the fridge and sat down at the table to read the neat pile of paperwork on the end of the table. Yep, his mother had definitely been. He wondered if she’d comment on his tidy house sometime. Damien’s mind wandered as he flicked through the latest Stock Journal.

  I wonder if you can love someone you hardly know? Jesus this is doing my head in. Why don’t I just … Shit, that’s the phone.

  ‘Hello,’ he said as he answered the ring.

  ‘Hello, Damien? It’s Jacqueline … Um … Jacqueline Havelock here.’

  ‘Hi.’ Damien wondered if he’d forgotten to make another appointment. No, hang on a sec, he didn’t need one. So why was she calling?

  ‘Um … I’ve just been speaking to my parents and they’re coming back – for almost a week this time. Anyway, they’d love to take you up on your offer of a drive around. On Sunday week, would that be possible?’

  ‘No worries. Don’t think I’ve got anything else planned.’

  ‘Great, I’ll ring you next Saturday to confirm.’

  ‘Um … okay.’

  ‘Right, thanks. I’ll speak to you then. See you.’

  ‘Um … Hey, Jacqueline?’ He hoped he wouldn’t sound desperate, but it was
too late to back out now.

  ‘Yes?’

  Oh well, fingers crossed. ‘Would you be interested in coming to a barbie lunch here on Sunday? I’ve got a couple of friends coming and thought you might like to meet some locals, socially for a change. I’ll understand if you’re busy, I know it’s short notice …’ Damien realised he was blabbering.

  ‘I’d love to, thanks. What can I bring?’

  ‘Oh … um … I haven’t thought that far ahead.’

  ‘Salad or a sweet?’

  ‘Either would be great, thanks. Okay, see you then.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Oh … twelve?’

  ‘Right then, bye.’

  ‘Bye.’ Damien hung up.

  ‘Eh Squish, she wasn’t just being polite, was she? Nah, I reckon she really wants to come. Otherwise she would have been washing her hair or something. Isn’t that what chicks say when they’re not interested? And don’t forget she was the one who rang.

  ‘We’d better get cracking if we don’t want to look like we’ve got her out here under false pretences. Who else can we invite?’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jacqueline pulled her hatchback into the drive by the carport and had her hand on the key when Damien rushed out of the house to meet her. She thought he looked like he was in a hurry.

  ‘I was about to try and find your number. Everyone’s cancelled. There’s a big fire just over Mount Campbell and they all want to keep an eye on things. There’s a wind-change forecast. Look, I’m really sorry but I’ve just been paged. Our CFS unit’s going in as backup so I’m going to have to go. Maybe next time?’

  ‘Can I come?’ Jacqueline suddenly blurted, surprising herself.

  ‘If you want, but you might get pretty filthy,’ he said, looking at her crisp white shirt.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Jacqueline said, thankful she’d worn jeans and the RMs she’d purchased especially for her stint in the country. ‘Can we put these in the fridge before we go? We can have them later,’ she said, pulling the pasta salad and lemon meringue pie from the back seat of her car.