‘No thanks,’ she said.
Taking the offer as an invitation to stay, she took a step closer. His work in progress was actually a watercolour, unexpectedly luminescent and brilliant. The subject matter also took Sid by surprise.
A landscape? Had she expected to see another painting of the same woman?
‘Not quite Hans Heysen or Arthur Streeton, is it?’ He delved a hand into another pocket and tossed something at the brown dog, making the animal jump off the wooden seat and sit obediently at the artist’s feet, probably waiting for more.
‘I don’t know about that, but I can tell you I like it. The colours are vivid and the style relaxed and loose. It draws you in.’
‘Well!’ He bowed, ever so slightly, but theatrically nonetheless. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘Do you like it?’ Sidney asked. Honestly, the man could not be more inhospitable if he tried.
He choked on the mint, coughing the words up, ‘Do–do I like it?’ There was an uncomfortable silence lasting several seconds, and then he laughed–a big, genuine guffaw from deep within his belly. ‘You are quite a perceptive woman,’ he said. ‘Or should I say persistent? You remind me of someone I knew a long, long time ago.’
‘Really?’ said Sid, still feeling belligerent. ‘And who might that have been?’
‘Hardly matters now. I’m sure you’re not the least bit interested in long-time-ago stories. I tell them much the same way I paint landscapes. Not well.’
The claws of curiosity dug deep and Sid was hooked. ‘What if I said I was interested in your old stories?’
When his shoulders fell and he looked away, Sid had an urge to reach out to him, to connect. Instead, she shoved both hands in the pockets of her jeans. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked awkwardly.
‘The weather is too warm for winter, don’t you think? Pablo does, don’t you, boy?’ He lowered his body onto the bench seat, rested his crutches to one side, and bent over to ruffle the dog’s ears.
‘I suppose it is warm, away from the water and out of that wind.’
The man donned his shirt and was buttoning it when he squinted up at Sid. ‘You’ll have to forgive my bad mood. Today I’m feeling the effects of too many losses, too close together. It happens.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Sid could tell him she understood loss, too, but before she could utter a word he was getting to his feet. Conversation obviously over.
‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘Come inside. I’ll show you I can be hospitable when I want to be. I can probably manage tea. You like your tea, as I recall.’
He may have apologised but he wasn’t going to let her forget he’d caught her snooping.
‘What about your work?’ Sid asked. ‘You can’t leave it out here.’
‘You asked me before if I liked it.’ He picked up his cigarettes, hesitated and returned them to the easel. ‘I don’t. Not at all. Come on, Pablo.’ He turned to Sid. ‘You coming, then?’
Minutes later they were settled in the kitchen, Pablo on the floor beneath David’s chair. When the kettle boiled, Sidney jumped up. ‘I’ll take care of it, Boss’ she said, not sure how he would manage a teapot and his crutches at the same time.
‘If you like and you can call me David.’ He sat back into the chair to watch. ‘So, what are you doing here?’
‘You gave me a job.’ She flashed a hint of a smile. ‘And you offered tea.’
To her relief, the cheeky response didn’t make him at all mad. On the contrary, David’s grin suggested he knew he’d met his match.
‘I meant, what brought you to a place like Watercolour Cove? Byron Bay seems to be the young person’s mecca.’
‘Umm . . .’ Not sure what to tell him, Sidney stalled by bending down and patting the dog. Pablo seemed to have forgiven her for mistaking him for a rat. ‘Someone broke my heart a little while ago and I had to move back home, to my mother’s place, but my mother and I . . . We don’t see eye to eye on much at the moment so I had to get away for a bit. And here I am.’
‘And you’re here with your brother? It’s rare to see siblings get on so well, in my experience.’
Steam rose from the kettle as she poured. ‘If I had to have a brother, at least I got a good one.’
‘You’re lucky.’
Sid thought she heard a bitter note in David’s voice and as he turned his head away he seemed to go someplace very dark.
14
The Greenhill Banana Plantation, 1979
The darkness inside Tilly and David’s cave only exaggerated the brightness at its entrance, highlighting Albie’s silhouette as he stood there blocking the way, hands on hips, the distant Pacific Ocean a sparkling blue backdrop to the banana trees on the hill outside.
‘What are you doing here, Albie?’ Tilly asked, busily tucking her shirt into her jeans.
‘What are you doing here with him?’ he responded angrily. ‘Oh, wait, I know the answer to that, don’t I, Tilly? Must be another blue moon.’
‘Hey, steady on mate,’ David said. ‘What’s got up your nose?’
When Albie’s hand instinctively went to his very pronounced proboscis, David laughed. Not to be mean. Sometimes Albie’s expressions were just so funny.
‘Don’t be a dickhead, mate,’ David said. ‘I didn’t mean you had a booger flapping in the breeze. You sound pissed off. What’s up?’
‘You’re what’s up,’ Albie said. ‘Does David know, Tilly?’
‘Know what, mate?’ David’s smile switched suddenly from wry to wary, and Tilly panicked.
‘Yeah, Albie.’ Her gaze locked on to him, pleading for loyalty. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Listen, mate, I’m not sure what this is all about, but . . .’ David walked over to his long-time friend and neighbour. ‘I do know how many times Tilly has told you she’s not interested in you like that.’
Please, please, please, Tilly mouthed, on tiptoes to look at Albie over David’s shoulder.
‘Trying to break us up makes no sense, mate. Tilly’s with me. Always has been. Always will be. Wherever we end up–here or somewhere else–it’ll be together. Forever family, right, Til?’ Albie looked uncomfortable as David draped an arm over his shoulder. They had once been best mates, but now they were rivals, and the friendly gesture didn’t disguise that. ‘Listen,’ David said softly. ‘Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, but . . . It would be good if you buggered off while me and Tilly . . . What I’m trying to say here, mate, is that we’re kind of in the middle of something right now, if you get my drift. So, how about you make yourself scarce.’
For a second Albie looked crushed. Then he looked furious.
‘Don’t be mean, David.’ Tilly stepped in. ‘He’s family.’ She took Albie’s hand to lead him away. ‘Come on, Albie. Let’s go and talk. You can tell me what you want.’
Leaving David grumbling to himself in the hideaway, she ushered Albie outside and back up along the rough path to the fork in the plantation road. When they were close to home, Tilly pulled him into the shady grove at the start of the Marhkt banana plantation. She lunged so hard at his chest with both hands, the force knocked him onto his butt.
‘Good grief, Albie, what’s wrong with you? I thought we were friends.’
After a moment contemplating his lap, the boy–she had trouble thinking of him as a man–looked up. ‘You don’t want me anymore.’
‘Albie, what we did . . . It didn’t mean anything. I thought you knew I wasn’t into you like that.’
He blinked, and tears spilt down ruddy cheeks. ‘But you and me–’
‘Good grief, Albie, act your age. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I?’ Tilly’s voice grew impatient. She never knew what to do when Albie got all emotional and needy. ‘You did want it that night, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, Tilly, of course I did, but–’
‘And you agreed no one would ever know, right?’ Tilly folded her arms. ‘Well?’
‘I did?’
‘Mates
don’t dob on mates, Albie. And we’re mates.’
‘Mates.’ He slumped, shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth, like the word had sucked the tantrum out of him.
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Albie. I need you to be clear about this. Tell me you understand.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ His head bobbed up and down. ‘I understand. I do. You’re just like everyone else. No one’s ever wanted me for real.’
‘That’s not true,’ Tilly insisted, her anger subsiding. ‘The Marhkts wanted you.’
Albie scoffed. ‘They wanted me to work on the farm. That’s not the same as being wanted for real. My mum didn’t want me. She gave me away. No one’s ever wanted me since.’
Tilly closed her eyes, wishing she could escape and get back to David. She didn’t know what to say or do when Albie got all morbid.
‘You said you loved me, Tilly.’
‘I do love you, Albie. We have something special. You’re my brother. You’ve always protected me.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Albie said. ‘You told me you wanted to be with me. I’ve got money. I’ve been saving up. I’m making plans. I was going to tell you. Now it’s all been for nothing.’
Tilly was immediately curious. How much money had he saved? But she couldn’t ask, not now.
‘Look, Albie.’ She sighed. ‘The right girl will come along one day–I promise.’
‘There’ll only ever be one girl for me.’ He got to his feet.
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Together forever. That’s what you told me,’ Albie said as he walked away. ‘I’ll never forgive you,’ he called back to her. ‘You won’t hurt me again, Tilly.’
15
Watercolour Cove, 2015
‘You will hurt yourself if you don’t take it easy on that thing,’ Sidney called. ‘I know that expression of yours, Jake.’ She was busy wiping morning dew off the ceramic pots lining the ramp leading to the gallery veranda. The last week had even delivered a few overnight showers. ‘Quad bikes have killed even experienced riders, so don’t even think about hooning around.’
‘Relax, sis, I’ve ridden one of these babies a million times. They have them at the Sydney Fish Markets.’
‘You haven’t ridden that bike and you haven’t ridden one on winding dirt tracks on forty-degree mountain slopes.’
‘The boss wants fresh supplies of bananas and avocados down at the gate and I need to check the honesty box before the tourist group arrives around noon. If you prefer I could take one of those cables and swing through the trees like Tarzan.’
‘Hmm, a big, bumbling ape. I can picture that.’ Sid knew Jake was only goading her. He might like extreme adventures, but he wasn’t silly about his safety. She’d already heard Pearl explaining to him that the flying-fox cables, once used to convey enormous bunches of bananas from all over the hillside to the packing sheds below, were old and unused now, and possibly dangerous. Sid had noticed the highwires crisscrossing the hills and valleys and wondered about their purpose herself.
Jake had taken to his role so easily. Sid guessed it was from having had so many jobs. Jake loved his seasonal work. A new employer, a different challenge, something to learn, to inspire. Maybe her brother was the smartest one in the family after all, whereas once she would have agreed with her mother–and Cindy Cooper’s parents–that Jake was going to turn out a no-hoper. Instead, here he was teaching Sid about starting over and being brave.
‘Improvise, adapt, overcome,’ he had told Sid the other day. ‘Think that way and you can do anything.’
She was too ashamed to tell Jake at the time that there’d been a moment when the thought of doing something different and leaving Zeus Design Studio after seven years had made Sid contemplate staying with Damien, even though she knew what that would mean for the baby.
‘You okay, sis?’ Jake was asking. ‘You’re rubbing that belly of yours. You feeling all right?’
‘Oh, yes, sure. What were we saying?’
‘I was telling you I’m in a bit of a hurry to get done and get out of here.’
‘Why? Where are you going?’
‘Me and Pearl have a date.’
‘I sure hope she’s a women of simple tastes.’
‘Very funny.’ Jake hooked up the trailer to the back of the quad bike and double-checked his pocket, drawing out a key. The honesty box key, Sid assumed. ‘I like her, sis.’
Sidney bit back her next smart alec remark. She’d never seen her brother sound and look so serious when talking about a girl. Every Monday, as he waited for his laundry to be done, he’d usually regale Natalie–and Sid, if she was there–with tales of the one that got away. He spent weekends clubbing with his friends, but had so far failed to hook a girlfriend. Even after a hot shower and a gallon of aftershave, his fish-market fragrance lingered, and once the pub or nightclub heated up, most girls started commenting on a disagreeable odour. One day their mother had taken matters into her own hands and added a good dose of lavender oil to the rinse cycle. The next day at work the blokes had ribbed Jake about smelling like a ladies’ loo.
As the daughter of an oyster farmer, maybe Pearl was used to fishy smells. From what Sid had seen these past couple of weeks, the girl certainly seemed nearly as keen on Jake as he was on her.
‘I’m just asking you to take it easy, Jake.’
‘Quad bikes are the safest ride around. Who falls off four wheels?’ he called over the roar of the engine as he took off.
‘Just. Be. Careful.’
Sid stopped her polishing and settled into a chair, closing her eyes to allow the warmth of the winter sun to wash over her face. She was tiring more easily these days, but she felt surprisingly calm and happy for the first time in months. Getting away from her mother had been a good idea. Staying alone at the Blue Mountains gallery, most likely with police crime scene tape still in place, hadn’t really been an option anyway. Natalie had been very insistent that Sid accompany her to Aunty Tasha’s. But Sid couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Melbourne. She knew her mother was hoping that she’d get back together with Damien, and whisking Sid off to Melbourne was likely the first step in her plan. Natalie was nothing if not manipulative, and she was adamant that the baby needed a father. They had been fighting about it bitterly for weeks.
‘This is the twenty-first century, Mum. Single mothers are no longer shunned by society and the authorities don’t take babies away from a woman who’s failed to snare a husband.’
‘I’m not suggesting you snare a husband.’
‘And you’re surely not telling me to beg Damien to take me back?’
‘Begging is not what I’m suggesting. Sometimes a man doesn’t know what he wants until you make him see. You’re a beautiful and talented woman, Sidney. You can make a man do what you want.’
‘Are you kidding, Mum?’ Sid could hardly believe her ears. ‘That is exactly what snaring a husband is. In case you hadn’t noticed, those heady decades of women batting their eyelashes to get ahead, and have guys swoon at their feet, are no more.’
‘Don’t you be facetious.’
Sid reared up. ‘Don’t you be ridiculous, Mum. I’m not going to make a man do anything he doesn’t want and that includes being involved in his child’s upbringing. Damien’s made his choice. If he has a change of heart five or ten years from now he can be involved, but he’ll have to fit in with my life, wherever I am and whatever I’m doing at the time.’
‘In that case, cut all ties now and move on,’ Natalie said matter-of-factly, clearly unperturbed by her daughter’s rage. ‘That option has to be better and less confusing for the child. Make a decision, Sidney.’
‘Mum, I can’t think of a sadder thing than stopping a child from knowing their father. Nothing that’s happened between me and Damien should interfere with that. But I will be the parent making the decisions for this child until they’re old enough to make their own.’
Her mother had ended the discussion at that point, leavin
g Sid still seething.
Sitting in the sun on top of this mountain, staring blithely at two yellow masked plovers, knowing both birds were responsible for choosing and preparing the nest location and notorious for fiercely defending their patch, seemed to put things into perspective for Sid.
‘You’re a lucky lady,’ she spoke to the birds as the buzzer chimed, announcing the imminent arrival of customers. Sid sat there a moment longer, happy to have customers to distract her, but reluctant to give up her spot in the sun. Then she hoisted herself up out of the chair and headed into the gallery.
Crossing the polished floor, she caught sight of herself in the huge, highly-polished steel sculpture at the centre of the room. Was her bump finally getting bigger? Turning sideways to inspect her profile in the reflection, she rubbed the palm of one hand in small, soothing circles, the way she’d seen so many pregnant women do.
‘So you like that piece?’
Sid jumped at the sound of a man’s voice and flicked her shirttails loose so they draped over her jeans.
‘You seemed very intent,’ David added, smiling.
‘Oh, ahh, yes, I . . .’
‘Hmm, well, hopefully you’ll be slightly more articulate should one of these customers ask you a question.’
Outside, five elderly ladies of varying size burst from the confines of a tiny hatchback car that must have struggled on the drive up the mountain.
‘Come on, Pablo, that’s our cue to disappear.’
To Sid’s amazement her boss skedaddled faster than any able-bodied man she’d ever seen–not counting Damien after hearing her news, of course.
She greeted the ladies with open arms, grateful for the laughs their antics provided, and after an hour chatting she was out on the veranda to see them off.
‘Four out of five ain’t bad, Sid,’ she said through a false smile as four arms eagerly waved goodbye, one cardigan-covered arm flapping out each window of the car. She watched the little hatchback drive off and called out, ‘Thank you. Take it slow–and be careful!’
Other Side of the Season Page 10