Damien hadn’t been paying attention to the time; the joey would be starving. He’d been sitting there writing for hours and had nearly used up all the pages in Auntie Ethel’s pad. The lounge looked like a whirly-whirly had been through. He knew his mum would have a fit, but that Auntie Ethel would be fine about it.
He’d have to deal with the rest of it in the morning. Right now he needed to feed the joey and get some sleep.
Chapter Twenty-four
Lying in bed, Jacqueline felt an odd sense of satisfaction. She realised she was even happier than her parents were about their move to Wattle Creek. Reluctantly, she admitted the need to be fiercely independent wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Perhaps it wasn’t the fact her parents had lived what seemed a boring life, in the same house for thirty years, that bothered her. Could it be that she was jealous of them as a couple? That such contentment with someone had always seemed so remote and a near impossibility to her?
She told herself she ought to be thankful she still had both parents. They were still spritely and relatively healthy, and she hadn’t had to deal with them divorcing like many of her friends, or worse, death, like Damien had.
Ah, Damien. Staring up at the dark ceiling, Jacqueline could see them standing together shoulder to shoulder, her in one of his navy and white check work shirts, attaching wire to fence posts, helping him fulfil his dream.
She wished she’d had the chance to explain how she really felt about him being there for her the night Jacob had turned up, and not let him go away thinking he’d merely fulfilled his duty by being her knight in shining armour. But she’d been too frightened and confused and everything had happened so fast.
That gentle tug of her skipping heartbeat she never thought she’d have again, and the feeling of warm embers glowing deep in her stomach she’d never before experienced revealed the truth of her feelings for Damien. Girlfriends had spoken of it, and now Jacqueline realised she too must have found her ‘soul mate’.
The way he got along with her parents and teased her suggested he was fast becoming part of the family, which was nice, but could he just be seeing her as some sort of sister figure? But then there had been the yearning in his eyes and quickened breath on her neck that night. He definitely held some physical feelings for her. What she didn’t know was how strong they were.
She’d intended to tell him how she felt at lunch yesterday, but then the fire happened. Now he was staying at Ethel’s and her parents were visiting, it seemed they’d never be alone.
Suddenly she realised she knew nothing of his past relationships except that there’d been some brief interlude with Louise from the surgery. Perhaps he was still getting over someone really special? That would certainly explain any shyness in that department.
It couldn’t be said that he wasn’t passionate, so that was something. Saving Squish for example, and the way he’d talked about his plans, how he’d thought things through. Now that is a man with fire in his soul. Lucky would be the girl he set his sights on, she thought wistfully. She had to talk to him. Right now.
Jacqueline leapt out of bed, jammed her feet into her slippers and dragged her dressing-gown from the hook behind the door of her temporary bedroom. In the lounge room she noticed the time and paused; it was past midnight. Looking out the lounge room window at Ethel’s across the street she saw his figure silhouetted in the window. Her breath caught and her heart beat hard against her ribs. Should she go to him or wait until morning? The drumming deep in her groin intensified, giving her the answer. She told herself that if the door was unlocked it was meant to be. If not, it wasn’t. She certainly wasn’t going to go ringing the doorbell at that hour. Jacqueline crossed her fingers, closed the door carefully behind her, and ran across the road.
Damien was no longer in the lounge room by the time she had silently made her way into Ethel’s house. Instead, she found him in the kitchen preparing the bottle for the baby joey. She stood in the doorway, not wanting to change the scene before her. He was stroking the head of the larger kangaroo that was rubbing affectionately against his leg, also hoping for a midnight snack. It was only when he turned with the heated bottle for the joey that he caught sight of her.
‘Oh. What … what are you doing here?’ he stammered. But the instant grin on his face told Jacqueline her intrusion was very welcome.
‘I saw your light on,’ she offered, suddenly feeling unusually coy. ‘But don’t let me disturb you,’ she added.
‘How about you put a few cups of those pellets in that bowl for the big fella? This’ll only take a few minutes – poor little bloke’s starving – then I’ll be right with you.’
Jacqueline suddenly felt flushed with embarrassment. She had no idea what she was going to say and, now she was here, there was no backing out. And at this hour there was no way Damien would be thinking she was there to merely discuss the weather.
The grey sheen of morning was just beginning to come through the lounge window when Jacqueline woke. Her back was stiff and her neck cricked, and her dressing-gown cord was threatening to cut off all circulation. They’d talked non-stop for at least an hour, kissed for another, and then finally fallen asleep in a twisted mess of clothed limbs on Ethel’s old sagging tapestry-print lounge. Damien’s body shifted next to her and he woke looking tousled, tired and groggy. Jacqueline thought it was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen, and bent to kiss him. He pulled her on top of him and began kissing her deeply, her groin responding eagerly to the heat and hardness of him.
Rattling noises from the kitchen made them pause and exchange guilty grins.
‘I’d better get going before I’m caught,’ Jacqueline whispered.
‘Mm, do you have to?’ Damien murmured.
‘Afraid so.’
‘Thanks for coming over,’ he said, giving her a hug then reluctantly releasing her.
‘Glad I did. See you tonight?’
‘I have to wait that long?’ He smiled.
Jacqueline fled from the lounge room, down the hall, and out into Ethel’s driveway. It was fully light, probably getting near seven. Damn the summer heat, already a few of the neighbours were out watering their gardens.
Mrs Mudge from two doors down, Joyce Birken next door to Ethel and Betty Cabot from next to Jacqueline managed to catch each other’s eye at exactly the same moment and exchange bewildered glances, despite the distance between them and ageing eyesight. Eighty-year-old Tom Price noticed her as well and paused from his hosing to bow.
Jacqueline could only guess at the cheeky expression hidden under the rim of his battered akubra.
I might have just popped across the road to borrow a cup of sugar or a jug of milk, for all you know, she silently admonished everyone. But she knew it looked highly unlikely given that all she clutched were the soft, thick folds of her dressing-gown.
Far from being embarrassed, she found herself waving and grinning at them and calling a cheery, ‘Good morning.’ And she certainly didn’t care that soon the whole town would know about her and Damien.
Philip Havelock was striding down the passage when Jacqueline turned the corner from the lounge. She’d been hoping to get back to the spare bedroom and emerge looking like she’d just woken up. Perhaps she could pretend she’d been unable to sleep and had been watching television.
But again she found herself unconcerned at being discovered. Anyway, her flushed, radiant expression was a dead giveaway. Her father might be of another generation, but he was certainly no fool.
‘I believe you’ve been sprung,’ he said, grinning.
‘Mm, I believe I have,’ she said, flushing a deep shade of strawberry despite herself.
‘You’re a big girl, so I’m not going to say a word. Do you want the bathroom first?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
After a hurried breakfast alone at the table, Jacqueline left for work, choosing to walk rather than wait for her parents to get organised and give her a lift. Her lack of a good night’s sleep did nothin
g to dampen the feeling of excess energy.
Noon arrived and she was still unable to focus properly, functioning in a kind of automatic daze, thankful for the simple cases that were arriving at her door. The manager of the local Holden dealership had visited with a wad of glossy brochures for every vehicle from hatchbacks to four-wheel drives. He’d given her a half-hour sales pitch on the benefits of buying Australian and, in particular, buying locally.
Jacqueline hadn’t yet given any thought to replacing her car, but graciously accepted the brochures and agreed to speak to him personally when she made up her mind. Weekends were the only time she needed a car in Wattle Creek, and after last night’s revelations, maybe she should consider something more robust – like a ute or small SUV.
Walking up the street to the supermarket during a delayed lunch hour, whispers and turning heads told her that the bush telegraph had indeed been working overtime. She was surprised, and wasn’t sure how to react, at finding Ethel also going about her shopping. But Ethel didn’t waste any time revealing she knew what had gone on in her lounge room in the early hours of the morning, much to Jacqueline’s relief and embarrassment.
‘Damien told me this morning. Wonderful news, dear,’ she said, seizing Jacqueline in a robust hug.
‘I guess it comes as a bit of a shock,’ Jacqueline offered, unsure of what else to say.
‘Nonsense. Blind Freddy could see weeks ago what was going on.’
Could have told me, Jacqueline thought.
Back in her office she thought about how Ethel had said, laughing, that they’d better get on with it because the whole town already had them ‘shacked up’. The term seemed so crass and unromantic to Jacqueline, and she felt a little offended, not to mention embarrassed. But she forced herself to also see the funny side of it. She knew the townspeople were just like school kids when it came to teasing. Deny it and they’d never let up, but if you said, ‘So what?’ chances were you’d catch them without a comeback, and the taunting would be history.
Jacqueline had experienced her fair share of bullying and had learnt that wonderful lesson of reverse psychology all too late. She thought about the teasing she’d endured and how much nastier the girls had been at St Martha’s than the boys in her co-ed primary school. Character building, she now reminded herself ruefully.
Jacqueline was jolted from her reminiscing by the sound of knuckles tapping firmly on the door. She didn’t have any appointments for over an hour so she wondered if it might be her parents. What surprised her more was the appearance of Tina Anderson opening the door.
‘Tina … hi. Please, have a seat.’
‘No thank you.’ Tina’s tone was icy and her eyes glowing black pebbles. A cold ripple of anxiety trickled down Jacqueline’s spine.
‘Can I help you with something?’
‘You can help by staying away from my son.’
Jacqueline’s breath caught. ‘Um … I’m not sure I know what you mean. You’re obviously upset. Come in, have a seat,’ she said gently, struggling to keep her voice even. ‘I was just going to have a cuppa. Would you like one?’
‘No I don’t want a cosy cup of tea, I bloody well want you gone.’
Jacqueline proceeded carefully, unsure what exactly had upset Tina Anderson, ‘I’m sorry if Damien seeing me has upset you, but he needed …’
‘He didn’t need anything. We were fine before you started interfering.’
‘Look, I can’t say what has been discussed in here but when–’
‘I know exactly what you discuss in here, so don’t hide behind your high and mighty talk.’
‘And what exactly do you think that is?’ Jacqueline asked, becoming frustrated and defensive.
‘Damien might have been a bit lonely, but he was happy with his lot. Now he’s … now he’s throwing it all in. And it’s all your fault.’
‘Now hang on a minute,’ Jacqueline said, trying to stall Tina while she sorted the whirling confusion in her mind.
This must be about Damien’s plan for the farm, not their newly declared relationship, because he said he was going to tell his mother that morning. But what had he decided since she saw him that morning, because she certainly hadn’t got the impression he was ‘throwing it all in’.
‘You’re going to have to be more specific, because I really don’t know what you mean. Come on, come in and have a seat,’ Jacqueline said.
‘Oh all right!’ Tina slumped heavily into the nearest chair.
Jacqueline quickly got up and closed the door, relieved to be at last free from the big ears in the waiting area. Sitting back down behind her desk, she sighed deeply.
‘Now please, tell me what’s bothering you exactly.’
‘You, putting stupid ideas into his head, that’s what’s bothering me “exactly”,’ Tina snapped.
‘What ideas?’
‘This giving up farming to save animals. It’s ridiculous,’ Tina added, snorting.
‘He’s not giving up farming,’ Jacqueline said. Well, as far as I know, she thought.
‘See, you lying conniving bitch. You know exactly what he’s planning, because it was your idea.’
‘There’s no need to be rude. Yes, he told me what he’s planning. And I happen to think what he needs is to pursue his dreams.’
‘Dreams don’t make money,’ Tina said.
‘He’s not giving up farming, he’s–’
‘Near enough to it.’
‘But the sheep–’
‘They won’t last long. He’s always hated them.’
‘I get the impression he’s changed his mind,’ Jacqueline said.
‘Once he gives them up, it’s over. It’s not like the city where you can change jobs at the drop of a hat. The farm’s all we’ve got.’
Something twigged in Jacqueline. Should she tell her not to worry because they were in love and Jacqueline could think of nothing better than joining him on the farm? No, she might be glassy-eyed in love, but she was not suicidal – even if Tina did look to have softened a little.
‘He’s not selling the farm,’ Jacqueline said.
‘Damn right he’s not. I’m an equal partner, you know.’
‘Look I’m really not interested in–’ … your financial arrangements, Jacqueline finished in her head as Tina interrupted her and blundered on.
‘Well you bloody well should be, then you wouldn’t go around interfering in other people’s lives.’
Jacqueline sighed. She was kidding herself if she thought she could make Tina Anderson see reason. The woman was on a warpath and had no intention of stopping.
‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Tina. I’ve got another appointment in–’
‘More lives to wreck.’
‘I really can’t help if you are just going to be hostile.’ Jacqueline stood to signify the end of the meeting. It worked. Tina leapt out of the chair and forcefully pulled the door open.
‘You can help by staying away from my son,’ she screeched.
Jacqueline cringed. It was bad enough that everyone in the waiting area had heard, but she hoped Doctor Squire was up at the hospital. She couldn’t bear him having a go at her as well. Leaning back in her chair Jacqueline felt the sting of tears.
Chapter Twenty-five
Damien was a little bit sad, very disappointed, and a whole lot pissed off. He sat on an old oil drum staring at the sky wondering what to do next. His mum had just left after him telling her about his idea. He’d been in the shed going through his dad’s stuff, trying to summon the courage to phone her to check she was home before driving in to see her, when she’d just turned up. Totally out of the blue. Deciding there was no point putting it off, he’d opened his mouth and spilled his guts. She’d gone ballistic over his idea. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want him to be happy. He’d gone through it all, but she just hadn’t seemed to get it. Reckoned he was throwing everything away. He’d shown her all the figures and working out he’d done, but even that hadn’t helpe
d. What was her fucking problem?
Actually, he wondered if she had even heard what he’d said, because she’d instantly, totally lost it: ranting, raving, screaming, the whole bit. She’d told him he was being ridiculous and acrimonious. Shit, he didn’t know what that meant. She’d been like a tornado sweeping through, and it had been so fast and furious he wondered if it had actually happened.
Now what was he supposed to do? She owned half of everything, so he couldn’t just go ahead without her. But he wasn’t prepared to give up the whole idea. He couldn’t do that, not now.
He didn’t understand why she was so against it. And she’d gone on about the farm being all they had. Fucked if he knew what that was all about. Jesus, he’d never thought she was that attached to it. Nup, he had no idea what her bloody problem was.
And why the hell would she blame Jacqueline, anyway? Now that had really pissed him off. It was probably lucky that he hadn’t been able to get a word in. He thought maybe it was best she didn’t know about them just yet, though if she heard from someone else he’d be in worse shit. What a mess. And just when everything was starting to go all right.
Why had his dad had to die? He would have understood for sure. He supposed all he could do was hope his mum came around, and soon. She just had to. Meanwhile he’d keep going through his father’s treasured supplies in the old shed. It had to be done anyway.
Damien let out a big sigh, got up, and went back into the shed where he’d been sifting through the timber looking for all the pieces of four-by-two. If only his father had sorted it all those years ago and not just piled each clearing sale mission on top of the last. It would take a while, but he was determined to sort the indoor-type stuff like floorboards from the outdoor stuff such as four-by-twos, and try and group the variety of lengths together.
And it wasn’t like he had anything else much to do now, thanks to the fire. He thought about all the jobs he’d had awaiting his attention and how they’d seemed to multiply in the shed every night, and smiled. That was one way of getting things crossed off a ‘to do’ list. Grinning, he returned to his sorting.
Wattle Creek Page 27