A Chance of Stormy Weather

by Tricia Stringer

  “That little machine was second hand from the bakery when they upgraded.” Dara raised her eyebrows. “I hadn’t imagined I’d use it much.”

  “If you make fantastic coffee it would be a drawcard I’m sure.” Paula waved her hand over the remains of their lunch. “Bakeries are well and good but sometimes people want alternatives to pastries and buns.”

  Chris picked up the plan Paula had drawn up. “And you think if we turned half our floor space over to a dining area, customers would pay to come in and sit down to eat.”

  “You’ve got a huge space out there. Dara has some lovely items but you said yourself you only make enough to keep turning them over.” She looked at Dara, who had so far remained silent. “You could still maintain your stock on one side with some things interspersed among the tables. You could have a couch and coffee table and magazines for those who want a quiet coffee and different sized tables and chairs for people to eat at, so it didn’t end up looking like a dining room and…”

  “Whoa! Steady up. We need to go a bit slower.” Chris laughed.

  “It would be a big step.” Dara spoke for the first time, looking at Chris.

  “Do you like the idea?” he asked.

  “We would need to think it over a lot more. It would mean a lot of changes for both of us.”

  Paula sensed a sadness in Dara that she hadn’t anticipated. She had thought her friend would be as enthusiastic as she was about the business idea.

  “Look, I’ve still got some things to finish for Jim and some jobs to do before I head home, so I’ll leave it with you.” She looked hesitantly at Dara. “It is just an idea.”

  “Of course, Paula, we know.” Chris put his arm around his wife. “And thanks for working on it. There’s a lot for us to digest but we will definitely look it over.”

  “Yes, thanks, Paula. We do appreciate what you’ve done.” Dara smiled a farewell.

  Outside, the sun had disappeared under a dirty grey haze and the wind had strengthened, whipping Paula’s hair across her face and dirt into her eyes. She hurried back to Jim’s to put away the last of the filing.

  “Paula, I’ve been checking out the suggestions you made.” Jim smiled at her over the counter. “They’re very useful and I am indebted to you for stepping into Heather’s shoes. I hope you’ll forgive me for thinking you were just an office girl.”

  “Now, Jim. There’s no such thing as ‘just an office girl’.” Paula wagged a finger at him. “I’m sure Heather is more to you than that. Titles don’t matter, it’s whether you can do the job that counts.”

  “Well, you have certainly done the job and I am most grateful. If there is ever anything I can do in return...”

  “As a matter of fact, there is. I want to buy a car.”

  Jim’s eyes twinkled. He was always the salesman. “What did you have in mind?”

  It was only four o’clock when Paula left for home but the day was dark with dust. She peered anxiously through the windscreen at the sky, as another gust of wind rocked the car. She had thought the haze was rain coming and it had been hard to believe when Jim corrected her and said it was topsoil from paddocks, near and far. Peering into the gloom, she couldn’t imagine how there could be any dirt left.

  She smiled as she recalled the deal she’d done with Jim to buy the Audi. He’d tried to talk her out of it but she’d fallen in love with the car. It suited her much better than the dual cab.

  She knew how much the Audi was worth; she’d seen the paperwork. Her father had reluctantly agreed to sell her Mazda when she’d called to ask. That, along with the sale of a small parcel of shares, would cover it. Jim had given her a very good price after complaining he’d probably never be trusted to sell another vehicle to Dan again if she went home with this one.

  Tucked away in the boot were tins of paint. She’d paid Carl a visit, explained what she wanted for the kitchen, watched him carefully as he prepared it and opened every tin before she left the store.

  He had feigned hurt at her suggestion that he had mixed the wrong bedroom colours, insisting he had been in the business for years and he would have mixed exactly what she’d asked for. She giggled as she recalled his long low bow in the middle of the shop with his assurance, “The customer is always right, Mrs Woodcroft.” He certainly was a character.

  As she neared home, the wind that had been pushing her all the way suddenly stopped, and, by the time she got out of the car the haze had cleared, leaving the sky lighter than it had been for hours.

  She carried in the steak she had bought. She’d had a sudden memory of her mother’s braised steak as she’d searched the meat section of the supermarket and decided that’s what she’d cook for their evening meal. She had just struggled in with the last of the paint when she heard a car and rushed back outside, hoping it was Dan home early.

  Rowena’s vehicle pulled up beside the gate.

  “I’ve picked up the meat from the butchers,” Rowena called as she got out of the car.

  Yes and hello to you too, thought Paula.

  “I picked up some extra plastic bags in case you need them,” continued Rowena. She opened the boot of her car.

  Paula walked over to see what she was talking about and stared in amazement at the crates of meat filling the boot.

  “What is this?” she asked, feeling stupid as soon as she’d said it.

  “Your meat, my dear. The butcher does most of the work but it doesn’t come neatly packaged like it is in the supermarket. Here, you carry this one in.” Rowena pointed to a crate and waited for Paula to lift it out before reaching in and picking up another. They made two trips, stacking the crates along the kitchen benches.

  “You’ll need the table for sorting and packing.” Rowena paused and looked at Paula’s clothes. “I’d forgotten you’ve been at Jim’s. If you’re going to work in town perhaps I could do some housework for you.”

  Was that a criticism, Paula wondered. She glanced around her kitchen, which was neat and tidy except for the meat they’d carried in and the bags of shopping she’d left on the floor. “I’m fine thanks, Rowena, besides that job’s finished now. Jim is expecting Heather back next week.”

  “Oh, didn’t I see old Mrs Johnson’s Audi in your shed? I thought you would have to return that once you’d finished.”

  “It’s no longer old Mrs Johnson’s Audi. It’s now young Mrs Woodcroft’s Audi.” Paula grinned.

  Rowena stared at her as if she’d gone mad.

  “I’ve bought it,” Paula said with a flourish.

  Rowena sniffed and pursed her lips. “Well, I don’t know what Dan will have to say about that, finances are —”

  “Dan doesn’t have a say, Rowena. I bought it with my own money.”

  “I see. Does your father know?”

  Paula seethed. “He is selling my car in Sydney. Not that he has any say in it either.”

  Rowena held her gaze a minute before she spoke. “I wouldn’t mention it to Dan tonight. After today, he won’t be in any mood for surprises. I’d better be off and package my meat then. You seem to have everything under control here.”

  “Yes, see you later.” Paula listened as the back door banged shut and then marched over to the kettle.

  “Old bag,” she muttered as she flicked the switch. What I need is a nice cup of coffee, she thought to herself. What had happened to Dan today? She hoped it was nothing to delay the seeding.

  She looked at the plastic shopping bags she’d left on the floor by her feet. She should put the steak on. It would take a while to cook and the temperature was dropping quickly so she had to get the fire going in the lounge. She avoided looking at the crates of meat. Goodness knows what she was going to do with all that.

  While she sipped her coffee, she braised the steak and left it to simmer. The wood basket in the lounge was empty. Outside, the wind had picked up again and dark clouds were rolling in. She filled the basket quickly and noticed the supply of wood was getting low. Vaguely she wondered where it came
from but she had to make a dash for the house as a sudden strong wind hurled rain and bits of leaves and debris all around her.

  She leaned against the inside of the back door, clutching the wood basket and catching her breath, as outside the wind howled and the rain crashed down on the tin roof of the verandah. The sudden ferocity of the weather frightened her. She listened as the old verandah creaked and wondered whether it could withstand the force. The house was more substantial. She would feel safer in there.

  Once she had the fire roaring she checked the steak. Happy to see it simmering gently, she went to change out of her good clothes, which were now damp and flecked with wood chips. The lights flickered and she was reminded of the last storm they’d had. After that night Dan had brought her a rechargeable lantern from the shed. Knowing it was in the pantry, alongside the torch, was reassuring.

  Back in the kitchen, she began peering into the boxes Rowena had delivered. There were huge plastic bags of mince, sausages, chops and legs. The size of it all overwhelmed her but she couldn’t leave it sitting on the bench for too long.

  The back door banged. Saved by my man, she thought as she went to meet Dan. They could have a lovely evening together by the fire. The sight of him brought her up with a start.

  “Are you all right?”

  The man who stood before her didn’t resemble Dan at all. His hair stood on end as if it had been gelled in place and he looked at her through red-rimmed eyes from a face covered in dirt. His clothes were filthy and his arms and hands were smeared with mud. “What have you been doing?”

  “Trying to contain bloody lunatic sheep while I watched our farm blow away.” Paula saw him grimace as he bent to pull off his boots.

  “Are you hurt?” She took a step closer. He looked terrible.

  “Just landed funny when I jumped off the back of the ute. I must have twisted my knee.”

  “What were you doing?”

  He didn’t reply but kept tugging at his boots. Paula wanted to hug him but she hesitated. There was an indiscernible barrier between them and she didn’t know how to deal with it. She refrained from asking any more questions.

  “I’ve got tea cooking. Why don’t you soak in the bath and I’ll bring you a drink.”

  “Thanks. That’s a good idea.” He gave her a faint smile, dropped the last boot and went through the end door to the laundry.

  Paula returned to the kitchen where the crates of meat still waited. She poured Dan a drink and served up their meal. It was the only useful thing she could think to do.

  They ate by the fire and between mouthfuls of food Dan quietly explained his day to Paula.

  “I knew it wasn’t going to be a good day for seeding and I was checking the stock when the north winds hit. At first, it just dried the soil out and nothing much moved, but by lunchtime, the wind was so strong, it was taking the topsoil with it. Tom and I were trying to fix a damaged fence when we realised we had sheep out on the road. Conditions were so bad we could hardly see more than a couple of metres in front of us. We got the sheep back in and fixed the fence but…” Dan sighed deeply and stopped.

  Paula watched him. Her heart ached to see his wretchedness.

  He looked up at her. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be signing any financial agreements that bound you to this place. It’s not worth a cracker at the moment. I don’t know how much I’ll have to re-sow, that’s if I do it at all.”

  Paula didn’t know what to say. Her previous work had involved looking at markets, predicting sales and investments, but this was so much more intangible. She looked on helplessly as Dan continued.

  “When the wind dropped, Tom and I did another quick inspection of the stock and we found a dead ram. They get agitated and all push together. Anyway, this one must have spooked in the wind and run into the fence at an odd angle, broke its neck. Then we found a blocked water trough just as the wind changed and the storm hit from the south. The rain pelted down. But only for a few minutes.” He shook his head slowly and looked back at Paula, the tiny hint of a smile gleaming in his bloodshot eyes. “A man has to be mad to be a farmer and a woman has to be even madder to marry one.”

  She hugged him then, so tightly. “Dan, we’ll get through this.” But she didn’t really understand and there was no conviction in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not good company. I’m bushed. I’ll take myself off to bed.”

  “Dan, I need…” He turned and looked at her, his normally straight torso drooping at the shoulders. “I need to clean up first. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She wanted to ask him about the meat but it was insignificant in comparison to his day. Well, Mrs Woodcroft, life on the farm, lesson number ninety-nine, how to package meat, she said to herself as she looked balefully at the crates lined up on her kitchen bench.

  It took her till midnight but she got it done. Every bit of meat was in a bag and in the freezer. The crates were washed and stacked up on the sink and she’d done the dishes as well. On her way out of the kitchen she passed the envelope her father had left, still lying on the dresser. She picked it up, turned it over once then dropped it into the drawer and pushed it firmly shut. She really didn’t want to know what the envelope contained.

  Exhausted, she fell into bed beside Dan who tossed and turned restlessly, keeping her awake, in spite of her tiredness.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Paula woke late the next morning. The sun was shining and the day looked positively cheerful after the devastation of yesterday. She could hear male voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, she pulled on jeans and a jumper before going to investigate.

  Dan, Tom and Bruce were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee produced from her machine by the look of the nearly empty water tank. Dan had decided her coffee machine made better coffee than instant.

  “Hello, sleepyhead.” He greeted her with a wink and she was pleased to see the smile back on his face. “We’re having a commiserating drink.”

  “Hello, Paula.” Bruce raised his cup. “Nothing stronger than coffee at this hour of the morning, I promise.”

  Tom smiled shyly at her. Paula smiled back, happy to have some company in her kitchen. She refilled the tank, made herself a coffee and joined them at the table.

  “We’re going to inspect the damage. Bruce assures me he doesn’t think it’s as bad as I thought,” Dan said.

  “Plenty worse off than us,” Bruce said. “I reckon we might be some of the lucky ones.”

  “Yeah, but you pig farmers are used to being dealt shit.” Dan smirked at his friend across the table.

  “Unlike you sheep farmers who just have shit for brains.” Bruce leaned across the table to give Dan a mock cuff across the head.

  “Ahem.” Tom cleared his throat gently and nodded in Paula’s direction.

  “Oh, sorry, Paula. Come on Dan. What were you thinking? There’s a lady present.” Bruce grinned. His dark features were full of boyish charm.

  Paula laughed. She was enjoying their friendly banter. “Don’t mind me. I’ve heard things around the boardroom table in Sydney that would make one of your legendary shearers blush.”

  “Dan said you’re still getting the mice inside.” Tom quietly changed the subject.

  “Yes, one or two. But, thanks to you, there aren’t as many getting in.”

  “They were only Dan’s pets to get rid of the mother-in-law.” Bruce laughed.

  “Hey, steady up,” Dan said.

  “Sorry, Paula, I was only kidding. The toaster story was a beauty. No offence meant.”

  “None taken,” she replied. “I would have laughed myself but my mother is really terrified of mice.”

  “One good thing about this storm, it might have killed the little buggers off.” Bruce’s face was serious again.

  “It would have knocked their numbers, but I think we’re stuck with them for a while yet.” Dan stood up. “Do you want to come for the ride, Paula?”

  “Yes.” She collected his cup w
ith her own but Bruce and Tom had already carried theirs to the sink.

  “What did you do with the meat?” Dan pointed to the empty crates. “I’d forgotten Rowena was collecting that yesterday.”

  “I packed it all away in the freezer.”

  “It must have taken ages. You could have left it till this morning. It’s cold enough in this kitchen overnight.” Dan opened the freezer door and looked in. “Did you label any of it?”

  “No, should I have?”

  “It helps when you’re trying to work out which lump of frozen meat is which. Although it looks like we’ll be eating the same thing for a week.”

  “Why?” Bruce peered over his shoulder. “Oh, I see. Now that’s what I call meat.”

  Dan pulled a large bag of mince from the freezer. “How did you think we were going to use this much mince at one time?” He hefted the bag up and down.

  “Or sausages or chops.” Bruce was still peering into the freezer.

  “I divided it into smaller parcels.” Paula felt defensive of her effort.

  “Yeah, but this much meat should last us for months, Sweet Pea. We don’t want to cook it all in one go.” Dan’s lips twitched.

  “Well, I thought we’d break off what we needed.”

  All three men looked at Paula for a moment.

  “Feed the man meat.” Bruce broke the silence and gave Dan a pat on the back.

  “In future, you can do it yourself if you don’t like the way I do it.” Paula glared at Dan.

  “Don’t get upset. We can still break it into smaller packages. Some of it’s not frozen solid yet. What’s a bit of meat between friends?”

  “I’ve already spent half the night doing it,” Paula snapped. “Why don’t you do it?”

  “That’s my cue to leave.” Bruce grabbed his hat. “I’ll ‘meat’ you outside.”

  Paula picked up the frypan she’d left draining on the sink the night before. “One more word about meat!” She waved the pan in the air.

  “Don’t do it, Bruce.” Dan put up his hands. “She’s armed and dangerous. We’ll catch you up in a few minutes. This won’t take long.”