by Jennie Jones
****
Kate’s heartbeat had been racing the whole fifteen-minute silent drive into town. She’d concentrated on remembering everything, like a montage in her mind. The No Through Road driveway from Silver Bells House, and the towering gum trees lining her way out of the country. The wildflowers on the verges of All Seasons Road. The endless road into town.
The road out of town.
Jamie parked the ute next to the hire car and handed her the vehicle keys before getting out of the ute and walking to the tray-back where all her belongings sat.
He heaved them off and put them onto the ground behind the car.
‘My, my. What a surprise to find you leaving, Kate,’ Mrs Tam said as she came out of the petrol station’s office.
‘Something came up,’ Kate said with a forced smile. ‘I have to leave earlier than expected.’
Mrs Tam tutted and looked up at Jamie.
‘She’s made a decision,’ he told Mrs Tam. ‘That’s why she was in town, to make a decision. And she’s made it. Sort of.’
Sort of? Kate looked up at Jamie. She had made The Decision.
‘I see,’ Mrs Tam said, and patted Jamie’s arm.
What did Mrs Tam see?
‘What a gentleman, Jamie. A true gentleman. Bringing your lovely girlfriend into town and letting her leave.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Tam. I’m hoping this will work.’
Hoping what would work?
‘Well, bye, dear,’ Mrs Tam said, lifting a hand in farewell before turning and sauntering off towards the stock feeders’ where she stopped to chat with Grace Tillman and Mrs Penman who were standing beside the plastic neighing horse.
‘Bye,’ Kate said, her voice soft. She frowned at Jamie. ‘She didn’t seem too sorry to see me go.’
‘She didn’t, did she?’
Kate raised her hand and waved at the women. ‘Bye,’ she called out. ‘Thank you so much for letting me help out. I had a great time.’
All three ladies smiled, lifted a hand in response and returned to their conversation. A door closed on the walkway opposite. Kate looked over the street as Ted and Mr Penman came down the walkway stairs, chatting effusively about something. Ted’s arms were waving. Mr Penman’s legs were crooked. Poor man. Must still be struggling with his condition.
‘Ted,’ Kate called. ‘Did the suit fit?’
‘Thank you, it did.’
‘Bye then,’ Kate said. ‘I’m leaving now. Hope you have a wonderful afternoon.’
‘Everything’s organised,’ Ted said. ‘Everything’s arranged with precision. Why shouldn’t we have a wonderful afternoon?’
Kate shrugged. ‘I was just saying…’
Ted and Mr Penman walked on by, heading to the ladies outside the stock feeders’.
‘That’s weird,’ Kate said. This was no ordinary day for Swallow’s Fall, she reminded herself. It was Christmas Eve and they had the party and present-giving this afternoon. Why should they care what the visitor from the city thought or did?
‘What about your wine?’ Jamie asked. ‘You’ve got six bottles left. Want me to post them?’
‘You keep them.’
He smiled. ‘Thanks. I will. Your Chardonnay will go nicely with my roast turkey tomorrow.’ He walked past her and put her suitcase and her carry-on into the boot of the hire car.
A man who cooked his own Christmas turkey. Kate felt like she’d cooked her goose to smithereens and shared the charred bones with Scrooge. God, what was this nonsense going on inside her head?
She ran both hands over her head, smoothing her hair back and checking the knot of her ponytail.
All secure.
Right then. This was it.
Holy tear ducts. She was crying.
Jamie slammed the boot and walked to her side. He dug into the pocket of his khaki trousers and produced a clean white handkerchief. ‘Here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘I had a feeling you might need it.’
She took it and pressed the folded square of cotton beneath each eye. ‘Don’t be nice to me,’ she said, her voice catching. ‘I done gone broke your heart, remember?’
He opened the driver’s door. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll forget about you in around sixty years.’
A sob caught in her throat. She’d be looking at her ninetieth birthday in sixty years. What would she have to look back on? What trials would she be most proud of? Not this one, that was for sure. She was nothing short of varmint —or vermin —whichever it was. A rat deserting the sinking love boat.
‘Keep it,’ he said when she offered him the handkerchief. ‘Oh, oh.’
‘What?’ Kate asked as he peered into the car.
‘Manual shift.’ He looked down at her red stilettos. ‘You going to manage?’
Kate swallowed. ‘Of course.’ She got into the car, settled herself in the seat, checked the controls and pulled at the seatbelt. She’d stop outside town and take her stilettos off. But she wasn’t going to do that now. That would make her look incapable. Flappy. Undecided.
Kate turned the key in the ignition. Jamie closed the door. Kate pressed the window button. The country air, so fresh and warm blew into the car as did Jamie’s essence. Lime-scented fragrance. Strength.
Kate put the shift into first gear.
Jamie slapped the roof with his hand. ‘Okay. Drive safe.’ He stepped back from the car.
Was that it? Drive safe? No last use of the love word? No final declarations of adoration? No swearing to never forget her, even after sixty years?
‘Well if you’re going to take it that way!’ What was wrong with this town today?
‘See you, Kate.’ Jamie turned and walked away.
Kate twisted in her seat to watch him. He stopped by the group outside the stock feeders’, slipped his hands into his khaki trouser pockets and started up a conversation with the ladies. They smiled up at him. Ted laughed. Even Mr Penman had a grin on his face. Had Jamie told them a joke or something?
Holy mackerel. They’d slapped her in the face. Why had they done this? Because she didn’t belong, that’s why.
Right. Sassy, she told herself silently. Sensational. She shot around in her seat, checked the street for traffic, did a fast U-turn and drove off, heading south. Heading homewards. Heading towards a big fight. And boy, was she in the mood for it.
****
Jamie sat at the bar in Kookaburra’s nursing his beer, his misery and his hope. The new guy seemed like a decent sort. Resident number eighty-nine. While Jamie’s perfect, pretty, executive number ninety was… Where? What was Katie doing? Was she thinking hard about everything, or still stuck inside her snap decision to leave and fight the world on her own? The former, hopefully. That’s what he was betting his heart on. And he hoped to God she’d had the good sense to stop the car after careering out of town the way she had, and change out of those damned four-inch heels. She’d practically left rubber marks on the bitumen.
‘Not long now, Jamie. I’m sure of it,’ Mrs Tam said, coming up to the bar and offering him a party pie from the platter in her hand.
‘No thanks, not hungry.’
She patted his arm and Jamie was tempted to hug her. Or bury his head in her motherly shoulder.
‘Hang in there, Jamie.’
‘I am.’ He checked his watch.
****
Kate sat in the hire car, fingertips resting on the bottom of the steering wheel as the warm summer breeze flew through all four opened windows.
She’d pulled over and parked next to a school playing field when the pictures in her head began to make her vision swim. She hadn’t meant them to plunge full steam ahead into her mind while she was driving. She’d thought she’d be using the pictures in the future. Basking in the memory of her time in Swallow’s Fall with a soft-hearted fond recollection of Ted’s stupid jokes and Mrs Tam’s ice creams. She glanced at the clock on her mobile which sat on the dashboard. They’d be handing out the presents in town about now. Wonder if Mr Penman would manage to get throu
gh the twenty-minute stint?
Oh, to see the faces of the littlies as they opened their felt-puzzles. And the babies, snuggling up to their teddies. Dang. Hope the toy shop managed to get those two missing teddies or there’d be two babies crying.
And Jamie. Wonder what he thought of his pen? And would he have picked up her soaps? No. Sammy had probably done that. Sammy and Ethan should have arrived home from their honeymoon by now. Jamie had fixed up their property. Hot water and electricity all sorted.
Why hadn’t Kate left town a bit later? She could have stayed another two hours, couldn’t she? To see her best friend. To say, welcome home, best friend, and boy what a home town you have. She could have stayed with them at their homestead and spent Christmas with — somebody.
Her eyes prickled with tears. Good job she was wearing waterproof mascara. She blinked, and felt her eyelashes stick together. Great.
She pulled a paper tissue from her handbag, dabbed her eyes dry. Well, dry-ish, and picked up her mobile. She hit the speed dial for Sammy and waited.
‘Where are you?’ Sammy asked, sounding tetchy.
‘I left.’
‘I know that. I’m home and you’re gone.
Kate winced. ‘Did you have lovely honeymoon?’
‘Beautiful. Why did you leave? What about Jamie and the shooting stars?’
‘Yes, Sammy,’ Kate said, getting all agitated, which was much better than sitting around in an empty car getting all sorry for herself. ‘What about them? What did you do?’
Kate listened to the silence.
‘I thought you’d fall in love with him,’ Sammy said at last. ‘I thought you’d fall so madly in love you’d stay and I’d have my best friend in town.’ Sammy sighed, possibly accepting the truth. ‘Where are you?’ she asked.
‘Sitting in my hire car. I’m just south of Cooma.’
‘What? You left hours ago. You should be at Canberra airport by now. In fact, you should be half-way to Sydney. You’ve missed your flight.’
‘I know. I stopped outside Cooma for an ice cream and couldn’t go any further.’
‘Why?’
‘I left my Wellington boots behind.’
Silence. ‘Want me to post them to you?’
‘No thanks. Thought I might nip back and get them.’
‘Okay. Jamie’s in Kookaburra’s. We’re all here. The new guy opened up.’
‘But my wellies will be up at the house.’
‘Yeah, but you’re not coming back for your wellies, are you?’
****
‘You okay, Jamie?’ Sammy asked him as she slipped onto the bar stool next to him.
Jamie swiped a hand over his mouth and attempted to remove the frown from his forehead but it wouldn’t budge. He checked his watch. ‘Getting a little nervous,’ he said.
‘Have you heard from her?’
‘No. Have you?’
Sammy nodded, and hope and dread partied hard in Jamie’s chest.
‘She said she’d forgotten something,’ Sammy told him. ‘Left something at your house.’
‘Right.’ Relief poured through his veins. ‘Okay. So that’s how it’s going to go. I was wondering.’
‘Weren’t you going to go after her?’
‘I was hoping there’d be no need.’ He picked up his beer, saw that his hand was shaking and put the bottle back onto the bar. ‘Although, I swear to God, when I see her, I might just pick her up and shake her for putting me through this.’ Torture. Agony. His shoulders were so tense he doubted he’d feel the pain if he was run over by a twenty-four-tonner.
Sammy’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned an elbow on the bar. ‘Ah-ha,’ she said pointedly. ‘Starting to make sense.’ She grinned. ‘You got the whole town involved in this tough love program?’
Jamie nodded. ‘Some of them. And let’s hope there is an ah-ha moment, Sammy. Otherwise I’m about five hours late.’
She grinned wickedly and Jamie reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For finding Kate for me.’
She clapped her hands. ‘Oh, this is going to be so good!’
Jamie grimaced. Let’s hope so. He checked his watch.
****
Okay so here she was, back in town. Fine. She could cope with whatever came her way. Kate Singleton was an ex-executive with experience and panache. She could breeze her way into Kookaburra’s and find Sammy and — anyone else —with a smile and a debonair, breezy attitude. It’s what she’d been doing all her life. Gliding into powerful situations, grabbing them, running with them and getting on with it.
So why was she shaking?
She got out of the car and looked down at her white pumps. No, she wouldn’t change them. She looked up and down the street. The fairylights were lit. So this is what Swallow’s Fall looked like on the evening of Christmas Eve. Someone had set up tall spotlights around the Christmas tree — Jamie, probably — and a group of young people were gathering around, sorting out their musical instruments. Oh, good. She hadn’t missed all the Christmas cheer. Maybe the choir were going to do a candlelight session. She hoped so. She wanted to cheer them on. She even knew all the words, after hearing them practise that day she’d helped decorate the town.
She made her way across the street, walked up the steps to the walkway and pushed her way through the swing door of Kookaburra’s and into the bustling, friendly, excited atmosphere.
Hot potatoes. Everyone was here.
‘Hello, Kate,’ Mrs Tam called from a crowd of townspeople. ‘Are you hungry, dear?’
‘No thanks. I’m fine.’ Kate smiled and looked around for Sammy and Ethan. And — anyone else.
She made her way through the families. Everyone wore cracker hats —yellow, blue and red paper crowns. Dang. She’d missed the Christmas cracker pulling.
Funny how everyone was just nodding and saying, Hi, Kate. Funny that they were behaving as though she’d just popped out of town for a spot of shopping and nothing more. Funny how Jamie was marching across the bar towards her…frowning. Oh, boy. How was she going to handle this? He looked gritty. A bit peeved. And so muscly.
‘Hello,’ she said as he came up to her.
‘You came back,’ he said, taking hold of her arm, turning her and leading her to the door.
She tripped. Holy flat white pumps. She never tripped!
He led her outside onto the walkway. The music, laughter and chatter filtered out from the pub and straight onto the balmy, Christmassy night-time scene outside.
‘You came back.’ he said again, stopping them both by the walkway railing.
‘I forgot something.’
‘Ah-ha.’ He nodded, looking wise suddenly. ‘How far did you get?’
Kate took a breath. ‘Cooma.’
He checked his watch. ‘You must have been sitting there for close to four hours.’
‘I left something behind.’
‘You came back.’
‘My wellies. And I think I left a lipstick in your bathroom.’
‘You could have sent me a text message,’ he said. ‘I would have posted them to you.’
‘Well, I figured that might be too much to ask.’ Kate cleared her throat. ‘Did you pick up my Santa present?’
He jutted a chin towards the pub. ‘I left it on the bar. I think it’s a box of soap or something.’
Kate nodded. ‘It is. Twelve soaps. Did you like your pen?’
Jamie nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s a good pen. I got you something else, actually.’ He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and produced a tiny, tiny present wrapped in silver gift paper, with a pompom-type silver bow on the top. The type that showered ribbons over the present.
‘Oh, golly gosh.’ She took it off him. ‘You got me a present?’
‘Open it.’
‘I didn’t get you anything.’
‘Yes you did.’
‘Did I?’
‘Open it.’
She ripped at the ribbon and the paper. Holy snow glo
be. Except this tiny snow globe didn’t have snow. She shook it and a million silver stars flew around the watery interior and fell around and over a little model of a cottage. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I got lucky,’ he said. ‘Found it in the toy shop.’
She blinked up at him. ‘What did I get you?’
‘You gave me one hell of a scare, Katie.’
‘When?’
‘I thought it’d only take two hours. Three maximum. You had me on tenterhooks for nearly six damned hours.’
‘That was my present to you?’
He took the star globe off her and put it onto the walkway railing. ‘You came back, Kate. That’s my present.’ He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and frowned at her. ‘Oh-oh. Is that a nearly-thirty-year-old’s tear I see glistening in your right eye?’
She sniffed, and let the tear roll down her cheek — as though she’d be able to stop it. Then one rolled out of her left eye. She nodded as it drifted down her other cheek.
‘How often are you going to cry?’ he asked. ‘Like — every Christmas birthday?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Just wondering how often I’m going to have to deal with it over the next sixty years.’
‘Oh, Jamie.’ Kate flung herself at him, her heart almost bouncing out of her chest. He caught her, and held her. And held her. Tight. So tightly she felt like she was magic in a bottle, all shook up and ready to explode.
‘Do I love you?’ she asked. Her vocal chords must have got twisted when she lunged at him because her voice broke on the love word.
‘Well I hope you don’t intend to throw yourself at the next new man who walks into town, or I’m going to think you don’t.’
The band started playing ‘It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas’. Kate winced. ‘The band’s playing.’ She untwined herself from his arms. ‘They’re not very good.’
‘Terrible,’ Jamie agreed. ‘But there’s hope. They can only get better.’
‘Not sure if I’ll get better at this…’
‘This what, Kate?’
She took a little breath. ‘I spoke to Fat Jacques. I told him to stuff it.’
He raised one eyebrow. ‘How much stuffing did you give him?’