Heart of Gold

by Fiona Palmer

  ‘Come and have your lunch, woman,’ Irene scowled.

  CJ quickly washed her hands in the small basin just outside the shed and joined Irene in among the bales. ‘Thanks, Renie,’ she said as Irene passed her a couple of sandwiches.

  Irene was thin and wiry but she was one hell of a rousie. CJ was still trying to talk her into getting her classers’ ticket but Irene liked to stick with what she knew. Besides, she liked chatting to the shearers instead of being stuck at the skirting table. She’d be the first person CJ would pick out of all Doug’s teams. For an old duck, she worked her guts out, and CJ admired her for it.

  Leaning back against the bales, CJ and Irene stuffed their chicken and salad sandwiches into their mouths. Rousing was hard physical work and by lunchtime their appetites were like those of a pack of wild dogs.

  Looking up, CJ noticed that something was on Irene’s mind. She’d been rather quiet today, come to think of it.

  ‘What’s eating your brain, Renie?’

  Not much ever bothered Irene, other than the occasional tiff with her partner, Paul. They had been together two years now and CJ was glad Irene wasn’t on her own any more. From what she could gather, Irene’s life before Paul had been a pretty lonely one, not that she talked about it much. It was probably one of the reasons she had stayed close to CJ. They felt like family now. Irene mothered her sometimes, checking she had something to eat and was looking after herself, worrying about how hard CJ worked… but most of the time they were just great friends. CJ didn’t mind the mothering, considering her own mum seemed to operate as if she were a robot with no thoughts or feelings. To be fair, CJ’s mum hadn’t always been like that. She used to be a caring, laughing, loving mother once, when they had a happy family. Before it was ruined by the man she had loved so dearly.

  Irene cleared her throat. ‘I got a call last night from my son.’

  CJ’s head flew up, her eyes wide.

  ‘Yeah, I have a son.’

  ‘Oh my God, Renie! Why didn’t you ever tell me? Wow. I can’t believe it. When?’ CJ put her hand on Irene’s arm, silently encouraging her to continue.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, CJ. His name is Chris and he’s a few years older than you.’ Irene took a deep breath. ‘I was barely eighteen when I found out I was pregnant. At the time, I was in between crappy jobs and was with a young fella who ran at the mention of a baby. I had no one to help me, no family, but I was determined to have the baby. I thought it would solve all my problems. How naive was that.’

  CJ’s fingers tightened around Irene’s hand.

  ‘You see, a baby was one way I could have permanent love in my life. My parents were crap and my brother was lost to a gang, so I grew up alone and got out as soon as I could. Australia was my hope for a better life. I can still perfectly picture the day he was born: his sweet, baby smell, how thick his brown hair was, even the colour of the hospital room.’ Irene paused. ‘But as I lay there holding my beautiful boy, something inside me broke.

  ‘I knew I couldn’t give him a good life. I had no job, I rented a scungy house, I could hardly afford to buy him the things he needed and I had no help. I loved him too much to ruin his life and I wanted what was best for him, so I found a pair of wonderful parents to adopt him. I wanted him to have all the things I never had as a child – parents who would cherish him and raise him with respect and manners. Mine were too busy lying on an old mattress getting high, or out gambling.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?’

  Irene tried not to laugh. ‘What’s there to tell? I’m embarrassed to talk about them and I told myself I wouldn’t waste my time thinking about it. CJ, kids shouldn’t be brought up in that kind of world. I had drugs in my face and went days without food or clean clothes. I vowed I would never be that kind of parent. When I had Chris I was struggling to feed us both and… I didn’t want that for him.’

  ‘Gosh, Irene, it sounds so horrible. I hate imagining you going through that.’ CJ shook her head. ‘You’re such a strong person to walk away from that life and start your own. I admire that. And to give up your baby… what a huge sacrifice.’

  ‘I wish my parents had done it for me. I used to dream of being given to another family, but it never happened.’ Irene watched a fly land on a nearby bale. ‘They kept his name, you know, the one I had given him. I just couldn’t believe it – after thirty years, he calls me. It’s been my only wish since I gave him away.’ Irene fiddled with a loose thread on her track pants.

  CJ watched Irene blink back tears with stubborn force. Now she understood why Irene was so strong and why she very rarely let anyone in. CJ thought Irene should let herself cry – what she’d been through deserved an ocean of tears. The thought of her having to deal with that all by herself, having to make such a decision, reminded CJ of just how tough Irene really was.

  ‘I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him. For all I knew the parents might never have told him he was adopted, even though they assured me they would. They didn’t want secrets. I knew they’d be great parents. I could see the way she looked at Chris – total adoration. I was too scared to try to contact him. What if he didn’t want to meet me?’

  ‘Oh, Irene. I’m glad he contacted you. You’re an amazing woman. You would have made a great mum and he’d be lucky to get to know you.’

  Irene squeezed CJ’s hand in appreciation.

  ‘And you don’t have to worry any more. He did call,’ CJ continued. ‘So… what did he say? Are you going to meet up?’

  Irene shrugged as she blinked away the tears. ‘We talked about bits and pieces. He’s into figures, an accountant. Not married, no girlfriend at the moment. He asked if he could call me again another day. Hopefully we’ll get to meet. I’d love that.’

  ‘Does Paul know?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s been great about it. We both know it’s too late to start our own family, but we’re kind of hoping that Chris will include us if he has his own children one day.’

  Kate, a young rousie, touched Irene’s shoulder as she walked past. ‘Hey, Renie,’ she said, ‘it’s your turn to pick some tunes.’

  CJ glanced down at her watch. ‘Bugger, time’s just flown.’

  ‘Tell me about it. Two runs left, and then knock-off,’ said Irene.

  CJ and Irene swapped smiles. They would finish this conversation another time.

  CJ grabbed a scraper to clean under the skirting table with Kate. Kate was only eighteen and quite short, and everyone called her Happy because never a day went by where she didn’t have a smile on her face. Kate was good to have on the team. She seemed to radiate energy, and she was a better worker than the two troublemakers Deanne and Sarah.

  Soon sheep were dragged from their full pens and shearing motors whirled into gear. CJ walked back towards the shearers and caught a flying belly fleece, which Lindsay had just finished and thrown out of the way. She had just taken the wet pizzle stain out from the belly piece when Lindsay called out, ‘Shit!’ It was a command rousies knew well: it meant they had to clean it up before it got into the fleece. Quickly, using the pizzle stain as a small rag, she scraped the ewe’s crap away and shoved it down the chute just before Lindsay moved his ewe into another position.

  CJ wiped the remaining crap off her fingers onto her jeans. Looking up, she watched Lindsay do the last few blows down the ewe’s back.

  ‘You’re doing okay for a newbie, keeping up really well. Doug will be impressed,’ said CJ, leaning towards him. She could see down his singlet, which gaped as he leaned over the ewe. The lean, smooth chest she saw was delicious. She had to stop herself from reaching out and touching his arm, which glistened with sweat. Raising her eyes, she saw a funny glint in Lindsay’s smoky blues, accompanied by a strained smile on his lips. He didn’t say anything but she had a strange feeling she’d offended him, which wasn’t her intention at all.

  It didn’t take her long to figure him out. About six sheep later she realised he was pushing them out faster. And towards
the end of the run she was feeling quite embarrassed as Lindsay had increased his output so much that he was now even faster than Marty. He had all the shearers working harder with his increased speed. She had just assumed he was a newbie, but he was far from that. He was clean, quick and truly remarkable to watch.

  ‘What did you say to him? It’s as if someone put a firecracker up his arse. He’ll wear himself out soon,’ Irene whispered into CJ’s ear.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  The shearers were all on their last sheep and CJ went to get Lindsay’s fleece, and to apologise.

  ‘I’m sorry for what I said before,’ she said, and felt her skin tingle with a blush.

  Lindsay looked over to her and feigned deafness.

  ‘I said I’m sorry,’ CJ said louder as she leaned over the raised floor so she was closer to his ear. ‘I underestimated your ability. And yes, you are quite fast,’ she added with a cheeky smirk.

  Lindsay had perspiration across his brow. The line of sweat was the only thing that indicated he had just worked his butt off. He wasn’t puffing or red in the face. Finishing off, he pulled the rope dangling by his side, stopping the motor, and pushed the shorn sheep down the chute. He unhooked his handpiece and knelt down next to CJ.

  She almost choked as his eyes meet hers. So close, his breath tickled a loose hair against her cheek and she could see the grey in his eyes, which floated over the blue like wispy clouds. Giving her a wink, he whispered, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet. I’m just getting warmed up.’

  CJ felt like a schoolgirl. ‘Great.’ She almost wanted to jump on the spot with nervous energy. She leaned in closer. Her face prickled as she could almost feel his stubble. ‘Marty thinks he’s a bit of a hot shot, and he’s been busting his gut trying to keep up with you,’ she whispered. ‘But if you’ve got more in your fuel tank, I’ll enjoy seeing him squirm. I can’t wait to see what happens when you wipe the floor with him.’ She chuckled quietly. ‘Anyway, thanks,’ she said, a little louder. She tried not to notice how much his masculine scent was affecting her. Sweat, lanolin and faint deodorant. It was calling to her – strong, manly, and heavenly in bed. Hmm, how did that thought slip in there? Last thing she needed was to be picturing him naked.

  ‘For what?’ he asked.

  ‘Umm…’ CJ had lost her train of thought. ‘Oh, for making mine and Irene’s day one of the most enjoyable in a long time. It’s been fun.’ With that, she flashed him her pearly whites. Turning, she carried the fleece to the skirting table and threw it with such a smooth, clean motion that it opened up in the air and came to rest on the table perfectly. Just like a rug spread over her bed with Lindsay under it. Bugger, now she’d be stuck with that thought all day.

  Ten minutes later she was standing by the CD player, looking through the music collection as everyone started filing back into the shed after smoko for the last run.

  ‘Any recommendations?’ she asked Lindsay as he strolled back in. ‘What helps you shear faster?’

  ‘The Triple-J one would be good, or Birds of Tokyo. Whose are these?’ he asked.

  ‘Happy’s… I mean Kate’s. Sorry, you’re probably not used to everyone’s names yet, let alone their nicknames.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Lindsay agreed. ‘I still can’t tell which one is Tweedledum and which is Tweedledee.’

  CJ laughed. ‘I think that’s the whole point. Just remember Deanne is Dee and Sarah is the other, or sometimes an “Oi, you!” works too.’

  Lindsay studied her for a minute. ‘What’s CJ short for?’

  She shook her finger at him and laughed. ‘Sorry. I don’t know you well enough to tell you that.’

  He stepped backwards with a grin that said ‘I will find out’, his eyes never leaving hers until he turned around and went to his stand.

  As if I’m going to tell him my real name, she thought. Hardly anyone knew it now, as she’d gone by CJ for so long. Only those who had known her the longest like Irene and her parents knew it.

  CJ joined Irene, who was cleaning her nails with a small splinter at the skirting table.

  ‘You two were having a cosy little chat over there,’ Irene said.

  CJ poked her tongue out. ‘Bugger off. You know I’m not interested in men.’ Even gorgeous ones like Lindsay, she thought. Hell, she was not going to go there… Men were taboo for her. ‘Lindsay reckons he can go faster. It’ll be fascinating to watch Marty’s reaction.’ CJ rubbed her hands together.

  Irene whispered, ‘Poor Lindsay. Tweedledum and Tweedledee are going to hound him to death.’

  She followed Irene’s gaze. Lindsay looked like a cornered kangaroo as the two girls stepped closer like two drooling roo dogs.

  ‘Don’t they have any shame?’ CJ shook her head at the girls. She felt sorry for Lindsay – and maybe just a little jealous.

  Marty was watching too, his face contorted into an angry glare.

  Music began blaring out from the two tiny speakers on the portable player, indicating it was time for work, so Irene and CJ parted ways. It seemed like CJ had hardly warmed up before Lindsay was calling out ‘sheep ho!’ She was sure Marty’s bottom lip hit the floor when he realised Lindsay had already finished his pen. Jumping up, she quickly opened the gate and shooed more sheep into his pen. When it was full, she walked out past Lindsay’s stand and asked, ‘Are you going to be able to keep up this pace?’

  He didn’t look up as he pushed the handpiece up the ewe’s thick, woolly neck. ‘Yep, but it won’t be as clean as normal,’ he said quietly.

  CJ, who had been preoccupied for a moment admiring his perfect bum, quickly nodded and said, ‘Whatever it takes. You could beat the run record if you keep up this pace.’ Climbing down from the raised floor, she headed over to Jules, the smallest shearer on the team, to pick up the fleece he’d just finished.

  With Lindsay’s pace and Marty going flat strap to try to beat him, they ended up very busy. CJ was sure it had caused the other four shearers to pick up their game as well.

  ‘God, I didn’t even have time to scratch my arse that run,’ said Irene, wiping the sweat from her brow. ‘Even Happy was too busy to smile.’

  CJ took a big swig from her water bottle. ‘Tell me about it. But didn’t it make time fly. I’d love to know Lindsay’s count for that run. It’d have to be a record. He’s the fastest shearer I’ve ever worked with.’

  ‘I agree. How in hell did Doug get someone like that to work for him? He’ll be rubbing his hands together when he finds out.’ Irene wiped her damp hair off her face. ‘Gee, I think I’ll be in need of a drink tonight.’

  It had been a good day, one that definitely called for a drink.

  Heading to her ute with Sam beside her, she crossed Lindsay’s path.

  ‘Well, I really underestimated your talents. You’re not bad… at shearing, I mean. Have you done any comps?’ she asked to cover her embarrassment.

  Lindsay slid his arms into a long-sleeved shirt. ‘I used to do a few here and there. I might get more of a chance to do more now.’

  ‘Whereabouts are you from? I can’t imagine any shearing team wanting to let you go.’

  Lindsay shrugged. ‘I’ve been working on the family farm and this is my first time on a full-time shearing team.’ He veered towards his ute and raised his hand. ‘Catch ya tomorrow, hey?’

  ‘Yep, see ya,’ replied CJ, with a half wave.

  She might just enjoy having Lindsay in her team.

  4

  IN her tiny shed of a room, CJ plonked down on her double bed, careful not to hit her head on the tin wall on the other side. Her feet were aching and her fingertips were sore and swollen from the prickles in the wool. Lifting her hands up, she grimaced at the blood, dirt, oil and sheep shit wedged under her short nails. She knew she should go and get cleaned up but that would mean going into the house and she really didn’t want to have to deal with him yet. Her mum would be at work now. She always did an afternoon shift at the local hospital, working in the kitchen and cleaning. She didn�
��t get much money for it, but combined with CJ’s wages it was enough to get the bills paid.

  Sam came up and nudged her hand, then settled himself down on his thick rug in the corner of the shed. She looked around. It wasn’t much, but it had been home for the last few years. One rickety melamine cupboard for her clothes, a desk and her bed were about the only things she could fit in it. She had a small TV and stereo perched on the top of her desk, but they didn’t get used a lot. A couple of Elders magazines sat on her desk, which she would check for the fleece results for sheds she’d done. But most nights she would go in and watch TV with her dad, if he was behaving or asleep.

  Deciding she had put off the inevitable long enough, CJ gathered up a clean singlet and pair of track pants and headed for the shower. She took her time, washing her hair, cleaning under her fingernails and then just leaning back against the horrible seventies brown tiles and letting the hot water drain away her worries. Eventually she got out and dressed, and snuck into the kitchen for tea. Sometimes her mum left her a meal she could heat up, but if it had been too hectic or hard, then it was roadhouse food or a Cup-a-Soup. CJ would cook a stir-fry or a spag bol on the weekend but during the week she was usually too stuffed to organise and cook a meal.

  The TV blared away in the background as she opened the old fridge door, searching for food. Dad must be getting deaf, or maybe he’d fallen asleep leaning on the volume button on the remote. CJ stood for a moment, feeling the cool air from inside the fridge, and then her heart stopped. Her dad had crammed beer into the whole two bottom shelves. CJ groaned. Damn it! How did he find the cash to buy it? Another problem to sort out. This was why she had long ago moved out into the shed and then, when he had ransacked that, she had begun locking it.

  CJ had been saving some of the money she’d earned from the cash jobs she did when Doug didn’t need her, stashing it away in an old biscuit tin. Her mum would take it to the bank for her every so often. It had taken her two days to discover one lot had gone missing, and in that time the old bastard had spent it all getting plastered and shouting the bar. She had never felt so angry and helpless. It had been her freedom, her ticket out of this mess. Well, that’s what she had told herself at the time, but she didn’t know if she’d ever have the guts to leave. She was holding up the walls in this family.