A Chance of Stormy Weather

by Tricia Stringer

  Paula walked through to the shop where a man and a woman dressed in smart, casual clothes were browsing among the furnishings. They had the relaxed look of tourists.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Well, we hope so. We’re looking for something typical of this area.” The drawl of the man’s American accent tweaked Paula’s curiosity immediately.

  When she walked back into the kitchen, Dara and Diane were just returning from a tour of the upstairs rooms.

  “It’s a wonderful place, Dara. Such a pity you don’t get tourists. You could have this place filled up all the time, if you were close to Sydney.” Diane enthused. “Oh, there you are, Paula. You didn’t see your father out there, did you?”

  “No.” Paula hadn’t given her dad another thought. She looked from her mother to her friend’s face. Dara’s usual sparkle had returned. Paula wondered how she would take the news.

  “Why don’t you keep Dara company a bit longer and I’ll go for a stroll and see if I can find him.” Diane took a fifty dollar note from her purse. “This is for the vest and the bib. Don’t worry about the change.”

  “Your mum’s lovely,” Dara said after Diane left. “She shouldn’t have much trouble finding your dad. There can’t be many places for him to be. Most shops shut before lunch on a Saturday and it must be nearly that now.”

  “Oh, are you closing soon?”

  “I usually shut my doors too. The whole town will be dead by midday. Everyone will be at the football. It’s an away game.”

  “An away game?”

  “In another town. I don’t follow it but Chris goes sometimes. They can play anywhere up to an hour or two’s drive away.”

  “Dara, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got you some customers for lunch and I need to know more about the lady who knitted the home-spun jumper.” Paula watched her friend’s face anxiously. She had a vague shape of an idea forming but it might not be at all to Dara’s liking.

  “I think I’m going to need another cup of tea to make sense of what you’re on about.” Dara put the kettle on while Paula explained.

  “Your customers are American tourists. They were in looking for a souvenir from this part of Australia. They’re touring in one of those camper vans. I had no idea what to show them until I came across those beautiful home-spun hand knits you’ve got.”

  “You didn’t sell one?” Dara stopped making the tea and stared at Paula.

  “Did I do the wrong thing? They didn’t say not for sale.”

  “You sold one of those two hundred dollar jumpers?”

  “They’re beautiful, probably worth a lot more. The wool is so fine and the colours are gorgeous.”

  “They’re Monica Brown’s. I told her they were worth more but I never thought we’d sell one, here. I suggested she look for interstate markets.”

  Relieved, Paula went on. “Well, it was just what the American couple were looking for. If your friend Monica had been spinning the wool straight from the sheep’s back, you probably could have sold them more. They were most interested in the whole process. Anyway, they asked me where they could get a good Aussie lunch and I invited them to come back here.” Once again, Paula paused and watched Dara’s expression anxiously. A little colour had returned to her friend’s face and she’d obviously brushed her hair and put on lipstick while Paula had been in the shop.

  “You want me to give them lunch, here?”

  “Not give them lunch, charge them.”

  “I haven’t got anything to sell them.”

  “You’ve got that delicious-smelling soup, and you said you had stuff in the freezer. They’re after home-style food and local conversation and they’re happy to pay for it. I said it would be thirty dollars each and they didn’t murmur. They’ll be back at twelve-thirty.”

  “Thirty dollars each!”

  “Sounds like an interesting opportunity to me,” a male voice said.

  Paula and Dara both turned to look at the tall, solid man framed in the back doorway.

  “Chris! You’re home early.”

  Dara’s husband nodded and crossed the room to give her a hug. “It’s going to rain and we’re low on fertiliser. Decided to call it quits for today.”

  “Chris, this is Paula.”

  He took off his hat, revealing a balding pate, and offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Paula.”

  He was a big man but his grip was gentle. Paula thought his eyes reminded her of a faithful dog’s, deep, brown and trusting. “Hello, I seem to have overstepped my welcome, I’m afraid.” She chuckled.

  “Well, I’m curious. Tell me more.”

  They all sat down at the table and Paula told them about her conversation with the American tourists and how Dara’s set-up was just what they were after; a good home-cooked lunch, in a kitchen, with real conversation. By the time her parents came back to collect Paula, Dara was well on her way to creating a gourmet feast and Chris had showered and was preparing the table for their guests.

  At least Dara was much happier than when Paula had first arrived, which was more than she could say for her parents. She climbed into the back seat, clutching the container of soup Dara had insisted she take. Her father jerked the vehicle away from the curb, making the soup slop wildly from side to side. Luckily, the lid was well sealed.

  The sky had become quite cloudy and grey and light rain was beginning to fall. The atmosphere inside the car was just as gloomy. Diane was looking out the side window at the disappearing town as they left it behind and Rex was looking directly ahead. Paula could see the outline of his jaw jutting firmly forward.

  “What have you been up to this morning, Dad?”

  “Your father has organised a surprise for you, darling.” Diane jumped in quickly.

  Alarm bells rang for Paula. Her father’s surprises were second only to her mother’s in conjuring up less-than-delightful bombshells for the recipient.

  “He’s bought you a new oven and organised for it to be installed. You can get rid of that dreadful old thing you have. Won’t that be so much better?”

  Paula looked towards her father but he continued to watch the road directly ahead. “Dad, there was no need. Dan and I…”

  “Nonsense, darling,” Diane cut in. “We wanted to give you a present that would be useful. I’m so glad your father was able to find something suitable in town. They’ve got quite a good electrical shop, haven’t they?”

  Paula didn’t know. She hadn’t been in the electrical shop herself, yet. But she did have ideas for doing up her own kitchen. Ideas she wanted to share with Dan so they could make the decisions together. She wondered what arrangements her father had made and if it was too late to change them.

  “The shop assistant said you were so lucky,” Diane continued. “They’ve got a couple of deliveries going your way on Monday morning and they can fit the stove in. The electrician can’t come that quickly but he did say sometime next week he’d call you. They all knew the farmhouse. People are so friendly here, Paula. You’re so lucky to live in such a pleasant place.”

  Diane stopped to draw breath and Rex glanced around.

  “You needed a decent cooker,” he said firmly.

  Diane turned back to watching the view and Paula sat back in her seat, nursing the soup. She was going to hate the new stove, she knew it. Why did they have to go ahead without consulting her? It was something she and Dan should do together. And how would he take the news that her parents had gone out and bought them a stove? She knew her parents’ visit had been going all too smoothly, something had to happen.

  “What was that?” Diane squealed. “It looked like a mouse. Did you see that, Rex? Look there’s another one. It is a mouse. They’re running across the road.”

  “Relax, Diane, they’re not in the car. Dan said there was a bit of a problem with mice eating the seed in the paddocks.”

  “Oh dear,” Diane wailed. “I hope we don’t get any in the house.”

  Paula pushed back further int
o her seat. Yes, she thought, all too smoothly.

  CHAPTER

  10

  Dan knew Paula wasn’t home as soon as he entered the house. He was already accustomed to the difference her presence made. Even if it was late and she’d gone to bed, there was always a sense of her being there. He couldn’t feel it now. She must have gone somewhere with her parents. From what he’d seen in the brief times he’d been at home, Paula was getting on okay with them. He was glad her fears of their visit not working out had been unfounded. It was easier leaving her each day, knowing she had some company.

  He took off his boots, left them in the back porch and walked into the empty kitchen. It was dark and cold. He turned on the light and looked in the fridge for something to eat. There wasn’t an extra plate left from last night’s roast chicken as he had hoped. Paula wouldn’t have thought of it. Planning meals wasn’t one of her talents. He grinned. Not that he minded. She had plenty of others.

  He suspected her mother had cooked the roast. It had been delicious. He wouldn’t call himself a fussy eater and he didn’t mind Paula’s cooking but he did enjoy solid, hot food at this time of the year. It helped him to keep going. He was tired, a deep weariness that invaded every part of his body down to his toes. Something warm for lunch would have been nice.

  He frowned. Sometime this week he would have to organise some sheep to be killed. Rowena had reminded him a few days ago that their meat supply was low. If this rain kept up he could fit it in but the forecast hadn’t been very promising. He’d really only stopped because he was so tired, Paula’s parents were here and Tom was busting to go and watch the footy match. He didn’t think the rain showers would amount to much.

  There were still a few embers in the lounge fire, so Dan stirred them to life, put on some more wood and went off to have a shower. The warmth of the water thawed the chill from his body and eased his tired mind.

  They’d had a few setbacks with breakdowns and the mice had done a bit of damage but so far the seeding was progressing okay. If they could just get a decent return this year, he could borrow enough to pay Katherine off and get her out of his life. Then he would be free to make a fresh start with Paula. Rowena was right: he really should have sorted out the mess from his past before he’d contemplated the future.

  The talk on the radio this morning had been worrying. The outlook for grain prices wasn’t good with a predicted worldwide downturn. It was hard enough, with all the other variables, to get a decent return, and now his profit margin would be even narrower. It would mean less money to maintain and improve the farm let alone all the other costs that accrued, good or bad year.

  Dan went back to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He took it into the lounge where the fire was burning strongly now. He looked up at the large gilt-framed mirror Rex had hung over the mantelpiece. Dan thought the mirror a little fancy for the room but no doubt Paula’s decorating talents would soon remedy that. The throw rugs and bright cushions on the old couch had already improved the look of the furniture.

  He glanced across at the jumper Paula’s sisters had sent him, still lying in its paper where he had left it when he’d unwrapped it a couple of nights ago. It was a navy pure wool hand knit. The Crawford family certainly were generous.

  He turned on the television. The football was about to begin. Dan looked up at the wedding photo on the mantel as he took a bite of his sandwich. Paula was looking like a princess and laughing up at him. He settled back into the lounge, reminding himself how lucky he was. The siren sounded from the television signalling the start of the football game. Within five minutes of the first bounce he was asleep.

  * * *

  Paula looked down on Dan’s sleeping form. She glanced at the television then at the partly eaten sandwich on the plate beside him. He must be so tired. He hadn’t heard her call out as she came in the back door. She bent down and kissed him.

  He opened his eyes, his face curved into a smile and he stretched his arms towards her. “Hello, Sweet Pea.”

  “Here you are.” Diane came into the lounge from the passage. “We wondered where you’d got to, Daniel.”

  Paula went to speak but Dan winked and blew her a kiss. “Yes, here I am home at last. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much…”

  “No, don’t apologise. Paula told us you would be very busy. I’m just glad we’ve been able to do a few things to help you two get started.”

  Paula held her breath thinking her mother was going to blurt out the story of the new oven before she could tell Dan herself.

  Diane warmed her hands by the fire. “Will this rain keep you home for a while?”

  “I don’t think there’s much in it, Diane. I’ll probably be back on the tractor tomorrow. Just thought I’d spend an afternoon with my family.” He put his arm around Paula’s legs.

  “Oh, Daniel, is this your lunch?” Diane picked up the plate and inspected the sandwich Dan had taken one bite from. “You need more than that. Did you put Dara’s soup on to heat, Paula? You got one of those food grill things among your gifts didn’t you? Where have you put it? We can toast this sandwich for Daniel and get him some soup.”

  Paula rolled her eyes at Dan and followed her mother to the kitchen.

  “Don’t fuss, Mum. And his name is Dan, not Daniel.”

  “Yes, I keep forgetting. I’ve never been one to abbreviate names. Paula, you really should take better care of Dan. He’s working long hours and he needs to be well fed.”

  “He’s not an invalid.” Paula defended herself but she did feel a little guilty as she retrieved the grill from the pantry. She didn’t have anything to do but look after Dan and the house. She really would have to get some kind of routine into her life and organise meals better but not one day had been the same since she’d arrived. She recalled Dara’s revelation that her business was only a sideline. Paula hadn’t intended she’d be Dan’s fulltime housekeeper. She’d have to find herself something else to do but what that might be she had no idea.

  “Can you get out your toaster as well, Paula?” Diane cut into her thoughts.

  Paula took the toaster from the cupboard under the sink and plugged it in beside the grill.

  Diane squashed Dan’s sandwich in the grill. “Dad will probably be happy with toast and soup and so will I. What will you have?”

  “Just some soup.” Paula set the toaster going with the first lot of bread. “Where is Dad?”

  “Putting away his things. He’ll be here in a minute.”

  Diane put in more bread and buttered the first lot of toast. She dropped the knife, fumbled the lid on the butter container and kept glancing towards the passage door.

  “Mum, is everything okay? You and Dad…”

  “We’re fine. I’m so glad we’ve had this chance to spend some time with you.” Diane patted Paula’s arms. “I know you and Dan haven’t had long on your own but this was the only time your father would take time off and if I’d let him delay it, goodness knows how long it would have been till we could come over. Susan could have the baby any day, then I’ll be needed there. She really is still doing too much you know.”

  Paula could see the tears brimming in her mother’s eyes.

  “Susan’s tough, Mum, and I’m sure her baby will be too, it wouldn’t dare not be! Anyway, it’s worked out well having you here. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to transform the garden from a shambles to something from House & Garden.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I don’t know that you’re quite ready for open inspection but you’re very lucky. Someone once put a lot of time into that garden. There was a definite layout under the jungle and some hardy plants.” Another lot of toast popped up and Paula rescued Dan’s sandwich from the grill.

  “I’ll take Dan his lunch.” She carried a steaming bowl of soup and the now-toasted sandwiches into where Dan still sat by the fire watching the television. “Here you are, your majesty.”

  “Thanks, I could have come out.”

/>   Paula bent and kissed him. It was a wonderful feeling to have him home during the afternoon. “We can all eat in here. It’s much warmer.”

  As she turned to go back to the kitchen, she heard her mother give a pitiful scream and then the sounds of a chair being dragged and something thudding to the floor.

  Paula and Dan burst through the door into the kitchen at the same time as Rex came in from the passage. Diane was standing on a chair, there was a plate of toast on the floor and wobbling around beside it was a mouse.

  “A mouse.” Diane’s voice was a mere whisper.

  Dan moved towards the mouse and Rex went to his wife’s side.

  “It’s all right, Diane. It can’t reach you.” Rex’s tone was gentle as if he was talking to a little child.

  Diane brushed at her hair with her hands. “It was in the toaster.”

  “It couldn’t have been, Mum. We’ve cooked a couple of lots of toast today.”

  “It was in the toaster,” Diane repeated. “It just popped out with the toast.”

  Paula’s hand flew to her mouth. She didn’t know whether to be disgusted or amused. The mouse had stopped wobbling. Dan held it in place with his foot, picked it up by the tail and took it outside.

  “It’s gone now, Diane. You can get down.” Rex had an arm around his wife and held her hand to help her down.

  “There might be more.” Diane kept brushing at her hair.

  “No, it’s gone now. Come down before you fall,” Rex said soothingly and she allowed him to help her down. “Come and sit by the fire.” He led her to the lounge and Paula bent to pick up the plate.

  Dan came back inside. “I’ve got rid of it. It must have been in the bottom of the toaster eating the crumbs. It was quite groggy from the heat and its fur was singed on top.” He stopped beside her, brushing his hands together. “I told you to keep the pets locked up while we’ve got visitors,” he whispered.

  Paula smirked.

  “Your mother would like a cup of tea.” Rex had come back into the kitchen.

  “Is Diane all right?” Dan asked.