‘I know I sound weak, but I was brought up to believe women needed men for happiness and security. It was only during your talk to the men – I was in the clubhouse kitchen tidying up – that I realised you can still be lonely even if you’re not really alone.’
Jacqueline waited a few moments for Tina to recompose herself then asked, ‘So where to from here?’ She couldn’t have Tina leaving without some sort of satisfactory conclusion.
‘Oh, well, that’s the other thing. Apparently Geoff’s been having an affair for the past few months,’ Tina said, rather nonchalantly.
Jacqueline felt her eyebrows rise and her mouth drop open.
‘So,’ Tina continued, ‘first I’m going to call out to the farm and see Damien – I think he’d like to know I’m on his side now – and then I’m on my way home to pack up and leave the lying, cheating bastard,’ she spat. ‘I’m not sure where I’ll stay yet but there’s always the pub.’
Jacqueline had a tiny room to offer Tina for a few nights, but with her parents staying there really wasn’t the space in the small house. Less than an hour ago she’d thought Tina Anderson cold and incapable of loving anyone, but now her heart ached for the woman sitting across from her.
She wondered what Tina would do long-term. Probably just find a nice little cottage in town to rent. She certainly didn’t seem like the sort to go running off to meditate in Tibet or join a cult.
‘Actually, I’ve got a few dreams of my own,’ Tina said suddenly.
After the surprise at having her thoughts read, Jacqueline smiled, silently acknowledging perhaps she’d had this woman figured all wrong. She didn’t feel the need to know what Tina had planned, because all that mattered was she was finally setting herself free. But Tina was bursting to tell someone.
‘Tomorrow I’m going to order my first passport and book a flight to visit my daughter, Lucy, in London,’ she said proudly.
What would Damien’s reaction be learning Tina’s news? Jacqueline felt a sudden twitch of fear. What if he was overwhelmed with guilt for his mother’s life? She knew he’d already experienced a lot in relation to his parents’ marriage, well what he’d believed anyway, but it was impossible to know if and when someone would get to the end of their tether. After all he’d had to deal with recently, God only knew if he could cope with this as well.
But she knew she couldn’t mollycoddle either of them. If they came to her for help, fine, if not, she had to mind her own business, as difficult as it was when it came to people she cared about.
Suddenly Jacqueline found herself blurting a dinner invitation and explaining that Damien and Ethel would be there and that since her parents might soon be neighbours, Tina should meet them. She hurriedly explained about the idea of the welcoming party and how she was sure Damien would appreciate her involvement. Realising she was blabbering like a child, she closed her mouth and linked her fingers while she waited for Tina’s response.
‘I’d love to come, thanks. I’ll bring dessert,’ Tina said. Jacqueline was about to tell her she didn’t need to bring anything when she remembered Damien’s comment weeks ago about his mother needing to be needed.
It would probably give her great pleasure to bring dessert. And, anyway, it seemed no one in the country turned up for dinner without at least something, whether it contributed to the impending meal or for the hosts to keep. Jacqueline had given up trying to keep up with the custom when it came to eating at Ethel’s and had instead resorted to the odd bottle of wine or posy of flowers, regardless of the fact Ethel always poured from her own cask of Riesling and grew identical blooms in her own garden.
‘Thank you for today, talking to you really made a difference. I’ll be less belligerent about psychologists in future,’ Tina said, looking sheepish. ‘And thank you for all you’ve done for Damien. Well, I’d better get cracking, you probably have patients lined up outside. See you tonight,’ she added, as she closed the door behind her.
Jacqueline wondered if Tina had heard about her and Damien’s blossoming relationship. Oh well, if she didn’t know she would soon enough.
Chapter Twenty-seven
It had taken a couple of days, but finally Damien had everything sorted into rough piles of similar materials. Wire, steel posts, timber posts, miscellaneous timber, and various sized drums were spread around the powdery dirt floor of the shed and rubble area in front.
He thought he must have too much of his father in him because looking around he could see a use for almost everything. It was absurd, but he wondered if his dad could have collected each bit for a particular reason.
A shiver crept down his spine – the third for the day – and he reached inside the ute for his uncle’s jumper, telling himself there was a rational explanation for everything, end of story. The wind had swung around to the south and it was almost cold enough to freeze the tits off a brass monkey. As he turned back he noticed dust rising from the track in from the back boundary, then his mum’s trusty old blue Ford showed its face over the rise.
‘I reckon we’re in trouble again, Squish,’ he moaned.
He felt his heart looking for an escape route. Wringing his hands, he wasted his hard-earned break on waiting for the inevitable cyclone to arrive, telling himself he’d just calmly tell her how it was going to be. He knew that would be easier said than done, but what else could he do?
By the time the rust-dotted vehicle came to a halt, Damien felt like a heart attack was only moments away. His mother got out of the vehicle and silently looked the piles over. Damien wished she’d just fucking get on with it and kill the suspense. Then he realised she didn’t look angry at all. This is too bloody weird, he thought.
Squish growled and Damien reached through the ute’s open window, rubbed his hand across the little guy’s head and ruffled his silky ears. As he did, he felt the tension run from his shoulders, down his arm and out through his fingers.
Tina pulled an old oil drum from the pile closest to Damien and sat down. Damien thought she looked exhausted and worried, and instantly felt guilt raise a cold, sharp finger and poke him in the chest. He wanted to tell her to forget everything, that they’d just carry on as before, but he couldn’t. He’d changed too much for that.
‘Um, Damien,’ Tina began after swallowing hard and sighing deeply.
Damien’s heart somersaulted, he just couldn’t do it to her. ‘Mum, you don’t–’
Tina held up a silencing hand. ‘There are a couple of things I need to say, so just hear me out. This is hard enough without you interrupting. Now, I think the animal shelter is a great idea and you have my full support. I’m really sorry about the other day, I was confused. I had a chat with Jacqueline this morning and she’s helped me make sense of everything. Anyway, your dad would have been so proud.’
Her voice became choked and Damien wanted to go over and wrap his arms around her and say he loved her, but that was something you didn’t do with Tina. And Jacqueline, what did she have to do with all this? Did his mum know about them?
He was stunned when she went on to tell him how he was doing exactly what his father had wanted to do. It was pretty spooky, but at least he knew he was finally chasing the right dream. Damn, if she’d told him earlier he wouldn’t have wasted so much time on all the other crap. But then maybe he would have said it was all a crock of shit and pissed off to the city or something.
Damien was also surprised to hear that his father’s beloved Tippy had been rescued in similar circumstances to Squish. How freaky is that? Damien thought. Why hadn’t they ever said?
‘And, before you hear it from anyone else, Geoff and I have split up. Seems I’ve been living a lie these past years – no one could come close to your father.’
‘Oh Mum …’
Tina held her hand up again to silence him. ‘I’m okay, really. Everything’s finally clear. And I’m going to get over and see Lucy – ordering a passport tomorrow. Look, I’m going to head off now, heaps to do. I’ll see you at Jacqueline’s for dinner
later. Just wanted you to know how everything stood.’
Before Damien had a chance to say or do anything, she was back in the car and heading off.
‘Jesus Christ and all that,’ he said, as he stood watching the trail of dust settle behind her car. And you reckon you know someone? Hadn’t she left him with a bloody lot to think about? But for once he wasn’t confused.
He’d never known how much his dad meant to her – had that all wrong too. He supposed, as a kid, you only heard the arguments in the kitchen, not what went on in the bedroom. And rightly so, didn’t want to even think about that. But just maybe he was the best thing to happen to them, not the worst like he’d always thought. He’d seen the tears in her eyes and felt the warmth she still had for him.
They’d loved each other. Apparently his dad was pretty nomadic, didn’t want to be tied down and her snooty family didn’t think he was good enough anyway. And so along he came after a roll in the hay somewhere and, bang, they’re together. Well, not the best choice of words, but there you had it. Then her family had to accept him as the father of their first grandchild. So maybe good things could come out of catastrophes.
‘Just like us, eh Squish? We met after a catastrophe, didn’t we?’ Damien wondered if Squish realised he’d been the only one alive in the sack and that if the cooling bodies of his dead siblings hadn’t been there to warm him he probably wouldn’t have made it. Damien grabbed the puppy and pulled him out through the window and he squawked in surprise at the sudden, rough hug.
Well, Damien decided, sitting here being morbid won’t get the work done. Before he could do anything else he needed to finish two enclosures: a small one for hand-rearing the baby joey and a large run in case the buck wouldn’t go back to his original bush home.
His back and ears were still a bit scabby, but they couldn’t run the risk of him becoming too dependent or friendly. So Sunday was going to be the day.
The joey would still need bottle-feeding for a few months. Perhaps he should get a caravan to live in so she would at least be in her own environment.
Damien suddenly realised how long the shadows were. Dinner was at Jacqueline’s that night so he’d better get cracking. He wondered when everyone was going to stop being so damn sociable and leave them alone. All in good time, I guess, he silently concluded.
‘Jeez, I’m bloody starving,’ Damien said aloud, and Squish licked his lips in agreement. ‘This’ll tide us over.’ He’d just remembered the ham and cheese sandwich Ethel had packed for him when he left the house that morning. It was warm and he cringed at the thought of how many bugs could have bred over the past ten hours in the warm ute cab. Too late for Squish – he’d already devoured his share in one gulp. Damien hesitated briefly before tucking in. Maybe it would be okay.
Back at Auntie Ethel’s he updated his ‘to do’ list. Keeping a list was making life so much easier. Everything was more achievable when it was set out in black and white. He must remember to tell Jacqueline about this new skill. Somehow they always seemed to find more interesting things to do when they were together.
Ethel informed him that she and Eileen were organising the party at the golf club and that everything was on track for Saturday night. He felt a bit bad his mum hadn’t been included, but then it really wasn’t up to him. Perhaps the ladies would talk to her tonight. They’d even organised an advert in the paper, not that it was really needed: the bush telegraph was pretty efficient.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Jacqueline’s parents were still showering and getting ready when she answered the door to find Tina Anderson immaculately presented in a rose print summer frock, pink cardigan, and small clutch bag in matching fabric dangling on a gold chain from the crook of her bent arm. Carefully held away from her was a perfect-looking pavlova, piped with a generous layer of rippling whipped cream that stood out beautifully against the pearly white of the meringue below.
On the top, fresh strawberries were arranged in a spiral beginning with a single, whole petite berry in the centre and gradually increasing in size as the garnish wound its way through the cream to the outer edge. Keeping everything pristine were taut strips of cling film overlapped in the centre and held above the cream with two rings of strategically placed toothpicks.
Jacqueline marvelled at how perfectly coordinated Tina’s dessert was with her overall appearance, and fought the urge to share her observation. Suddenly realising she was staring, she pulled herself together.
‘That looks sensational,’ she cooed with admiration. ‘Far too beautiful to be sliced up and devoured,’ she added, grinning broadly.
‘It was no trouble,’ Tina shrugged, smiling. ‘Anyway, it has to be eaten else the cream will go off,’ she added, laughing easily.
‘You’ll have to carry the masterpiece, I don’t trust myself with it. Straight ahead then off to your left,’ Jacqueline said, holding the door open and stepping aside. ‘Damien and Ethel aren’t here yet and my parents are still getting organised,’ she said, as she followed Tina into the kitchen.
Tina’s demeanour suggested life was nothing but perfect and Jacqueline found herself wondering if she really had left her husband after all, but couldn’t bring herself to ask. She also wondered if now was the time to tell her she was romantically involved with her son. But it was really up to Damien, wasn’t it? Perhaps they’d do it together when he arrived.
‘What can I get you to drink?’ she asked, after stowing the pavlova safely in the fridge. ‘There’s red and white wine, beer, soda water, Coke and lemonade,’ she said, ticking off the beverages on her fingers.
‘I could do with a white wine, thanks,’ Tina replied, briefly shifting her weight and lowering her gaze. Noticing Tina’s stoic facade threatening to slip, Jacqueline found herself going into counsellor mode.
‘So, did everything go all right with Geoff?’ she asked.
‘Fine. Probably too well,’ Tina said, as if thinking aloud.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I thought he could have at least been a little put out, but no, couldn’t have cared less. He trotted off to the pub after a goodbye peck on the cheek, like nothing had happened.
‘I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps I wanted him to beg me to stay, say he needed me, or something. Oh well, it’s done now,’ she added, tossing her hair as if to shake off any lingering doubt.
‘He’s probably in denial,’ Jacqueline offered, handing Tina her drink. ‘As long as you’re comfortable with your decision,’ she added, and then waited a few moments in case Tina wanted to continue. But she was more interested in enjoying her drink.
Jacqueline wondered if she would have Geoff in to see her sometime soon. She’d never met him so she had no idea if he was one to discuss problems or seek help.
But she did know that separation hurt men emotionally as much, possibly even more than women – something that had only recently begun to be acknowledged thanks to some studies. Perhaps that could be the focus of my next talk, she thought.
The number of males on her books had risen steadily in the few weeks since her presentation at the golf club, and now men of all ages and occupations were regularly making appointments. Jacqueline was especially pleased with how many eighteen to 45-year-old farmers were booking, because she’d anticipated they would be the hardest to crack. And they were within the range most common for suicide. If only she could help reduce such a frightening statistic. But then she’d never know who she’d truly brought back from the edge, so she’d have to be content with building her list and convincing her clients they could talk to her about anything without fear of the whole town finding out what they had discussed.
Jacqueline had put the lasagne and foil-covered herb and garlic breadsticks in the oven and she and Tina were constructing a large tossed salad and chatting easily about local comings and goings when the doorbell rang again.
‘I’ll get it,’ Philip Havelock bellowed from somewhere down the hall.
Jacqueline smiled at
how relaxed her parents seemed. She was a little annoyed with herself for having made them out to be so prim and standoffish. Like eyesight, she thought, things became blurred when distance and time intervened.
Damien and Ethel entered the kitchen and greeted Tina who was now sitting down at the table.
‘Hello,’ Tina said brightly.
‘We brought some beer and a bottle of wine,’ Damien said, striding towards the fridge. ‘Don’t know much about the stuff but Nick at the pub assures me this one’s popular with the ladies, so I hope it’s okay.’
‘Great, thanks,’ Jacqueline said, and stepped aside to give Damien access to the fridge. She would have rather he offered a kiss, even just a peck, and briefly lamented over how non touchy-feely country men were in public. She hoped one day she’d have the chance to cure Damien of that as well, but for now she had to be content with him being comfortable with her fridge.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Eileen said, squeezing into the already crowded kitchen.
‘How about you lot sit and let me sort out the drinks?’ Jacqueline said, waving her arms in a shooing motion. ‘This kitchen isn’t big enough for all of us,’ she added. ‘Oh sorry, before you do, this is Damien’s mum, Tina. Tina, this is my mum, Eileen, and Dad, Philip.’
After the customary shaking of hands and exchange of greetings, they all chose a seat at the table. Except Damien. Jacqueline was surprised to find him sidling up to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.
‘Mum, there’s something else you should know,’ he said. ‘Jacqueline and I are seeing each other, er, romantically.’
‘Oh,’ Tina said. ‘That’s great. You make a lovely couple. I hope you’ll be very happy,’ she added, smiling at them.
‘Hear, hear,’ Philip said, raising his glass. Those around the table began a chorus of ‘hear, hear’ and clinking of glasses while Damien and Jacqueline exchanged grins and shared a quick kiss by the sink.
Wattle Creek Page 29