by Jennie Jones
Kate licked the top scoop. ‘I wish you luck with it, Mrs Tam. Sounds delicious and this is, honest to God, the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted. Anywhere. In the whole world.’
‘Thank you, dear. Oh! Excuse me a moment.’
Kate followed Mrs Tam outside as a lone car pulled up for petrol. While Mrs Tam dealt with the petrol pump — personal service, the country was full of such delights — Kate took a good look down Main Street. So quiet. The poor little town didn’t have much.
She nodded down the street towards the pioneer cemetery when Mrs Tam came to stand next to her. ‘Where’s the Christmas tree?’ Kate felt sure they’d put the tree up there. Best place for it. It could be viewed from both entrances to town — or exits, depending on which way you’d entered.
Mrs Tam tutted. ‘There’s a bit of a to-do this year due to the newly formed town committee. Mr Penman, our grocer, has a condition.’
‘For the committee?’ Kate asked.
‘Oh no, dear. Waterworks.’
‘Plumbing problem in the shop?’
‘He can’t pee.’
Gee whiz, thanks for the explanation. ‘Poor man,’ Kate murmured. ‘Was he supposed to chop the tree down and haul it into town?’
‘Not at his age. Jamie’s doing that. As soon as the feud’s been settled.’
‘What feud?’
‘Mr Penman always plays Santa when we hand out the Christmas presents to the locals. But due to his condition, he can’t sit for too long.’ Mrs Tam patted the bun on top of her head. A big, black pie of a bun. ‘Can’t stand for too long, either, come to think of it.’
‘Shouldn’t he see a doctor?’
‘Already has. Nothing they can do but let nature take its course.’
Kate didn’t want to imagine how. It would totally ruin the flavour of raspberry ripple in her mouth. ‘So what’s the feud about?’ Sammy was forever giving her snippets of information about Swallow’s Fall and its passions, its glories and its gossip mill.
‘Ted Tillman,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘He runs the stock feeders’ and he’s our committee chairman. He wants to play Santa in Mr Penman’s stead. But that means the costume will have to be let out quite considerably and Mrs Penman refuses to give it to Mrs Tillman.’
Kate stood under the shade of the petrol station’s veranda and studied Main Street as Mrs Tam spoke. The claret ash trees lining the street were countrified gorgeous. Glossy green foliage glinting in the sunlight. They’d look beautiful at night, covered in sparkly white lights nestling against the darkened leaves, looking like cheeky, bright-eyed elves in a forest. If you liked that sort of thing.
‘The families aren’t talking,’ Mrs Tam continued. ‘Which means we haven’t got the decorations up yet. What a to-do. Never known the like of it before.’
Kate didn’t mind there being no decorations. She wasn’t doing Christmas this year but it was a shame for the townspeople, not seeing Main Street draped in tinsel.
‘I need to do some shopping,’ she said, looking across the street. ‘Does Mr Penman sell pretzels?’ She wouldn’t be able to carry much more on the long trek home. ‘And sandals?’
‘You can buy all modern conveniences in Swallow’s Fall,’ Mrs Tam informed her with a smile. ‘So long as it wasn’t created or produced after 1990.’
Kate grinned. Another great thing about the townspeople here. They didn’t seem to have any misgivings about their lot. ‘What happened to the B&B?’ she asked.
‘It was hit in a big storm we had just over a year ago. The Cappers haven’t got the money to renovate yet.’
‘What a shame.’ A pretty little house. Out of date décor inside, but it had a warm feeling. Even Sammy’s mother, the ferocious Verity Walker, seemed to calm down from her never-ending complaints when she stayed there.
‘And what about the pub?’ Kate asked, aiming her ice cream cone at Kookaburra’s Bar & Grill across the street. It looked quiet. Dead. Lifeless. Closed. Thank God Jamie had rescued her Chardonnay.
‘Shut for the moment. We’ve got a new owner though. A young man. He’s been here for the handover, gone back to Queensland to collect his things and promised us the bar would be open by Christmas. He’ll be resident number eighty-nine, you know.’
Oh good. That saved Kate for taking up the position.
‘And there’s Grandy.’ Kate said, looking across to Morelly’s Hardware store and the old man sitting on a bench out front. He was talking to a blonde teenager who had a pad or a sketchbook in her hand, and her foot on the tilted edge of a skateboard. Kate not only remembered Grandy, she felt she had the right to say she knew him. The grand old patriarch of Swallow’s Fall. The man had more sense than most people gained in a lifetime.
Kate had been truly interested in the letter Sammy had sent her, detailing Grandy’s ninetieth birthday party and the ruckus of yet another feud about who was going to bake the cake and how many tiers it ought to have. If only Kate’s business world had been filled with such funny, abstract problems, she might not be in the position she was in now.
‘Why don’t you go say hello, dear. He’ll be pleased as Midas to see you.’
Kate put the paper wrapper from her now eaten ice cream into a rubbish bin. ‘I will, thanks for the ice cream, Mrs Tam. I’ll see you later.’
‘Cheerio, dear.’
Kate wandered across the street. Mrs Tam had been spot on with her Midas analogy. From what Sammy had told her Grandy seemed to have the ability to turn folly into sensible gold.
‘What’s with the heat?’ she asked Grandy as she trudged up the stairs to the wooden walkway which supported the shopping side of Main Street. The pub, the grocer’s, Cuddly Bear Toy & Gift shop and Morelly’s Hardware store. ‘I thought the Snowies were supposed to be ten degrees lower in temperature than the rest of Australia.’
‘Sun must have come out to welcome you,’ Grandy said. He lifted his cane and pointed the end at her feet. ‘Like your wellies.’
Kate noted Grandy wore trainers. As did the young girl standing at his shoulder.
‘Hello,’ Kate said, holding her hand out to the teenager.
‘Hi. I’m Gemma Munroe. You’re Jamie’s girlfriend.’
‘Oh, no.’ Kate laughed the remark away, but as this was the second person to remark on her girlfriend status, thought it best to quash all rumours now. ‘I’m not his girlfriend. He’s not my boyfriend. We only met yesterday. A mix-up in holiday arrangements.’ One she’d be seeking further answers to from Sammy. She looked at the sketchpad in Gemma’s hand.
‘Oh, did you do those?’ she asked, pointing to the open page.
‘I did. Not my best work though. I was just asking Grandy’s opinion.’
Kate took the offered sketchpad and flicked through the pages. ‘These are amazing.’ Sammy had told Kate about one of the young girls in town who had a truly magnificent talent. Kate recognised the style of Gemma’s drawings instantly, and although there were no direct associations in the work, she knew each piece represented various aspects of the mystical philosophy, Karma. ‘Good heavens, you’re good.’ Blue pools with dancing dolphins sending ripples on the water to four corners. Representing the earth.
‘I haven’t travelled yet,’ Gemma said. ‘So I wasn’t sure if I’d got the meaning right.’
Another drawing showed the dolphins beneath the water, as though in an ocean of complex undercurrents. A third showed a beach, full of people watching the ocean and the dolphins. Some pointing, many holding hands. All gathered in a semi-circle, sending their varied karmic ripples in all directions. ‘This represents the community,’ Kate said. ‘And the altruistic effect of so many lives coming together and blending, regardless of the problems.’
‘Wow. How’d you know that?’
Kate smiled, and looked up at the blue-eyed girl. Wow right back. The kid wore ripped shorts, an old T-shirt and a broad, chirpy smile. She would be a stunner in about five years, once she’d grown into her athletic slim frame.
Kate closed the sk
etchpad and handed it back. Talent. Pure and trustworthy. ‘What are you going to do with this skill?’
Gemma shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I’m experimenting at the moment. I’d like to go to Paris though. One day. Maybe.’ Another shrug, and a darkening of her blue eyes. Perhaps she didn’t believe in herself, Kate thought. Or perhaps her parents would never be able to afford to send her to college, let alone Paris.
Kate made a firm mental note to discuss Gemma Munroe with Sammy and make sure the girl was given a chance. Somehow. Anyhow. Before someone like Fat Jacques got hold of her. He’d pounce. And probably destroy the natural ability while pimping it out to the highest bidder. Another reason she was torn about The Decision and whether to let her hard work go, or to fight for it. Her world had been coloured by greed, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be part of it anymore. Her own karmic pond had many ripples, all criss-crossing.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Gemma said, flicking her skateboard with the toe of her foot and flipping it up in the air. She caught it neatly with her free hand. ‘Best go. Bye, Grandy.’
‘Watch yourself on the road,’ Grandy said.
Kate sat on the bench next to Grandy as Gemma bounced down the steps to the road and sprinted down Main Street, waving at Mrs Tam as she passed the petrol station.
‘That’s serious talent.’
Grandy nodded. ‘The best kind. Still untouched. Needs to see the world a bit though.’
Kate glanced his way. She’d only known Grandy for a short time, but he had a way of appraising all around him with an astounding accuracy. Grandy Morelly, the soul of Swallow’s Fall.
‘You’re looking well, Grandy. How’s life?
‘Happening. How’s yours?’ he asked.
Kate pulled a face. ‘Topsy turvy crazy.’
He chuckled. ‘Thought it might be. Got the look of the lost and lonely about you.’
Kate pulled her straw hat off and ran a hand over her head, checking her ponytail was still tailed. ‘I’m okay,’ she said in an off-hand way. ‘So what’s been going on in town? I hear there’s a feud.’
‘The sun wouldn’t know which side of town to set without a few sparks to light its way.’ He glanced at her, his watery-blue eyes full of humour. ‘We’re movers and shakers here in Swallow’s Fall though. Two new things have happened in the last three months.’
Kate curled a leg beneath her on the bench and turned to face Grandy.
‘Your Jamie moved in, and we’re expecting another young man soon. The one who’s just bought Kookaburra’s.’
Kate glanced to her right, at the closed-up pub.
‘Wouldn’t do you any harm to move into town,’ Grandy said.
Kate laughed. The townspeople were quaint and inquisitive. Curious and cautionary. No way would Kate become number ninety. ‘Is there a quicker way back to Silver Bells House?’ she asked. ‘It took me almost two hours to walk here.’
‘I imagine it did. I heard that your car’s wrecked. Apparently you were doing a hundred down All Seasons Road.’
‘I was not,’ Kate said, aghast.
‘And that you’d scared the wings off two dozen parrots, crashed through Ethan’s gate and let ten of his horses loose.’
Kate sighed. ‘How do stories get out so fast anyway?’ she asked. ‘Nobody knows I’m here.’
‘Jamie was in town earlier. Told me you were here.’
Jamie had spoken of her? Kate wondered what he’d said. How he’d explained. Whether or not he’d described her.
‘Since Ted and Mr Penman were around, all ears, I suppose that’s how the news spread,’ Grandy said.
‘Spread? It’s like greased lightning.’
‘So what does bring you to town?’
‘A greedy scumbag, a quest to get something right inside me, and a shooting star.’ Kate smirked. Work that one out, Swallow’s Fall. Hang on. If they tried, God only knew what sort of stories they’d make up.
Grandy said nothing but he placed his hands on the handle of his cane, as though he were waiting for Kate to say more. The old man had light and depth. Made Kate want to sit and talk to him. Maybe tell him her problems with Fat Jacques, The Decision and her dilemma about that quest to get something right. Tell him she’d lost her raison d’être. He might have some answers. She’d come to the country to get away from it all, desperate to find something or anything that would make her feel worthwhile in her own skin. Talk about torn. Talk about a messed up life. Talk about…
‘Shooting star, huh?’ Grandy said, lifting his chin and gazing across the street as though he had some inner knowledge. ‘Now that’s what I call interesting.’
‘Why?’ Kate asked, wanting to know why he’d said that. Did the man have second sight? Could he see into her future?
‘Ask Jamie.’
Jamie?
‘Funny how Sammy forgot to tell you the house was no longer available for holiday lets, isn’t it?’
‘Isn’t it?’ Kate agreed.
‘And she’s normally such an organised woman, too. Makes you wonder what she’s up to.’
No. Sammy wouldn’t have arranged this. Would she?
‘Are you going to help us with the town’s decorations at the weekend?’ Grandy asked. ‘Feud should be settled by then.’
‘I won’t, if you don’t mind,’ Kate said, taking her leg from beneath her bottom. Sitting on a hot wellie wasn’t pleasant. ‘I’m here to get away from all things Christmas.’
‘Too much jolliness for you?’
‘I’m turning a certain age and I’ve currently got nothing jolly going on.’
‘So you’re here to review your life then, are you?’ he asked, then nodded, pursing his mouth in contemplation. ‘Good idea. Spit it out, chart it out and sort it out.’ He shifted on the bench. ‘Some people do the hardest things first.’
‘Like what?’ Holy polony, the man must be a wizard.
‘Like not making the list before they start throwing things out of their lives.’ He turned to look at her. ‘If you’ve got stuff going on in your life, and you’re not sure how to handle it, make your list and identify the things about yourself you disguise from others.’ He nodded, with a smile. ‘Got to see yourself, Katie, before you can be seen by others.’
Hot dog! Bang on. Where did he get this wisdom from? Kate’s mouth dried out instantly. Maybe this was why she’d hung her hopes on a shooting star. She was supposed to be in Swallow’s Fall, to talk to Grandy.
Grandy nodded down the street, towards the southern side. ‘Looks like your boyfriend’s here to give you a lift.’
Kate glanced up and saw the Knight Works ute pull into town.
She looked sideways at Grandy as Jamie brought his vehicle to a stop on the road in front of the hardware store. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
Grandy chuckled. ‘I hate to tell you, Kate, but by the end of today the whole town will know about the wellie-wearing city girl Jamie has hidden away up at the house.’ He winked. ‘They’ll have you married by dawn. They’ll be planning Wellington boot-throwing competitions for the reception.’
‘Oh, ha ha.’ Grandy was jesting, but really, did Kate look like the sort of woman who’d end up in Swallow’s Fall? Did she?
‘What’s with the wellies?’ Jamie asked Kate, coming up the stairs to the walkway. ‘Grandy.’ He tipped his head at the old man.
Yes, what was with the wellies, Kate? Nobody in town wore them. Alright, they probably did when working the paddocks and in winter. One thing she’d got wrong. The other was her interference in Jamie’s life. Finding the photo. Correction. Kate shifted on the bench. She hadn’t found the photo, she’d gone looking for something and hadn’t really known what to think about what she’d found. Serve her right if she was blushing as Jamie watched her.
He took his attention off Kate and to Grandy, chatting about the new surgery at the homestead on Burra Burra Lane. He must have already been home and showered. He’d changed. Some guys wore T-shirts and some guys made T-shirts wear them. Jamie
Knight was the latter. His dark grey short-sleeved T-shirt fitted him comfortably. It wasn’t skin tight, something Kate never liked, but neither was it loose. His 48-inch chest made her sigh inwardly. She imagined how his powerful-looking shoulders, and those triceps and biceps, would move beneath his skin as he heaved stones and boulders while building his wall.
‘Thought you must have walked into town,’ he said to Kate. ‘Or got lost.’
He’d come to collect her? A gentleman in work boots. The type of man who would always have a hand ready to place at the base of a woman’s spine to gently guide her across the road, or through a bar or restaurant. And a fist big enough to knock a bloke’s block off if a situation demanded such an event. Something Kate wouldn’t mind seeing her rescuer doing. Especially with Fat Jacques… Scumbag.
‘Habit is a dragon breathing fire,’ Kate said, thinking back to the incredible representational drawings of karma young Gemma had shown her. ‘I’m hostage to my own way of thinking. I need to take action.’
‘Want a lift home first?’ Jamie asked.
Heat crawled up Kate’s neck and crept onto her face. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud. She nodded. ‘Yes please. These wellies are killing me.’ And he’d said home. So was she going to stay the whole holiday and make Silver Bells House her temporary home? Grandy had given her enough stimulation of the mental variety to get cracking on The Decision. Jamie inspired other mental pictures. On which she ought not to ponder. She was pretty sure she’d already blushed once too often in his company.
After saying their goodbyes to Grandy, Kate settled into the cool interior of the Knight Works ute, buckling her seatbelt and admiring the choice of music playing on a low volume in the cab. Country rock.
‘I forgot to do some grocery shopping,’ she said, looking back at Mr Penman’s store and wondering if he was currently standing in agony or sitting on it, then deciding she didn’t need to know details.
‘Don’t worry,’ Jamie said as he pulled out and performed a U-turn on Main Street, heading his monster truck southwards. ‘I did the shopping this morning.’