Heart of Gold

by Fiona Palmer

  ‘Thanks, Burt. I’m glad you approve.’

  They discussed the sheep she’d done, and Lindsay explained that there was not much else he could tell her except she’d get better with more practice.

  ‘Oh, and the reason you’re cutting the skin is because of the fine comb on the handpiece. Once you get good enough, you’ll know what cutters suit you and your sheep. So just try to keep your pressure a bit lighter.’ He took a drink from his can of Coke.

  CJ wanted to get back into it. She was eager to get this right. Burt stayed to watch, as apparently this was more fun than anything else that needed doing on the farm.

  Two hours later Burt leaned in with a rag and dabbed at the beads of sweat on her forehead.

  ‘Damn, girl. You’re sweating more than a dog in a Chinese restaurant,’ came Burt’s gravelly voice, followed by Lindsay’s laughter. She couldn’t help crack a smile herself.

  Lindsay stopped her soon after and showed her how to do the crutch. ‘When removing the wool from the crutch just take care near the teats, hamstrings and the top of the hocks, okay?’

  She tried to follow his directions and finished the day with no casualties, but the needle and thread had sat on standby just in case.

  At day’s end, she was buggered and took the beer Lindsay handed her with anticipation. She wasted no time in taking the first guzzle. They sat, side by side, on the wooden chairs near the table.

  ‘You did good today. How ya feeling?’ Lindsay asked.

  ‘Great… but sore… I enjoyed it. Makes me wonder why I never tried this earlier. Guess I just needed you around.’ She nudged his arm.

  ‘Come back at around four o’clock tomorrow and you can watch me grinding the gear ready for work, even have a go if you want.’

  ‘Sure. Thanks again, hey. I feel like I should be paying you.’

  He put his hand on her leg just above her knee and squeezed it gently. ‘I’ve always thought I could teach shearing and now I get to see if I can do the job. Don’t feel like you owe me anything. Okay?’ He tapped her leg before he took his hand away.

  ‘Well, I best head home, see how it is on the frontline.’ She laughed as she finished her beer and threw it into the large drum. CJ felt slightly nervous, wondering what would be waiting for her at home. It had been a great day and in a way, she felt like it was too good to be true.

  The following afternoon CJ climbed out of her ute and let Sam off for a run.

  ‘How’d you pull up today?’ Lindsay asked.

  ‘Not too bad.’

  ‘Good. Come on, then.’

  Lindsay led her along a broken concrete path to a small shed built with old bits of tin on a timber frame. It was next to the old fibro house he was renting. CJ had been here many times. The light-blue paint had faded and was peeling off the exterior walls, except for the dark-blue window frames, which she’d repainted just last year with Joe and Burt. It was a nice enough house with four bedrooms and a decent-sized kitchen, with a veranda around the back and down one side. It had a lot of potential to be a beautiful home and she had often dreamed of moving out here herself. But that would never happen.

  As they entered the shed, Lindsay flicked on the lights and walked over to the back corner, where his gear was set up.

  ‘I’ll go easy on you today. Pull up a chair and you can just watch if you like.’

  CJ was all for that. She grabbed an old fold-out chair that was propped against the wall and got comfy.

  After he was halfway through sharpening his gear, he stopped and turned to CJ. He laughed at the sight. She had sunk down into the chair with her head against the back of it, fast asleep. She looked peaceful and heavenly. The small worry line on her forehead had disappeared and he resisted the urge to kiss the spot. She’d probably punch him for trying. Would he scare her off for good if he made a move? Considering what she dealt with already… probably. He sighed heavily and began to grind again, hoping the noise would disturb her.

  ‘Hey, CJ!’ he yelled out over the metal screeching.

  ‘What?’

  He turned to see her rubbing her eyes, and couldn’t help but smirk. ‘Have you ever been to any clean shears competitions?’

  ‘Nup. Why?’

  ‘Well, the Wagin Woolorama is on next weekend and I’ve entered the clean shears comp. Would you come with me for support?’

  CJ looked up at Lindsay. He seemed almost nervous as he waited for her answer. It made him look sweet and her heart lurched in her chest.

  ‘Well, I’d love to.’

  Lindsay’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed. ‘Cool, I’m glad. Doug said he might come and I don’t have anyone else.’

  ‘Would James come across for it?’

  ‘He can’t make it, but it’ll be okay. My nerves sometimes get the better of me, but you just keep me talking and I’ll be fine. I’m heading across early Saturday.’

  ‘I’ll be ready.’ She got up out of her chair and stood next to Lindsay. ‘Do you mind if I have a little go?’

  Lindsay rewarded her gusto with a dazzling smile. ‘By all means.’ He stepped aside. When she was really concentrating her brow knotted together. It was very cute. ‘Just ensure the comb doesn’t go off the edge of the disc – it may catch.’ He found himself studying her closely all the time, amused when he found a new freckle, or noticed she’d changed her sleeper earrings for some tiny little diamante ones.

  When she’d finished the last comb he turned off the grinder and motioned for her to follow him into the house.

  Inside the country-style kitchen, Lindsay pulled out two beers and handed one to her. The kitchen hadn’t changed since she’d last been in there to clean. Light-green cupboards covered the walls and a large window hung above the sink, next to an old wood stove. Burt had put in a modern stove next to the fridge, but wasn’t going to part with the old one. It still made the best roasts, he reckoned.

  CJ followed Lindsay into the spacious lounge room. He had minimal furniture – just a coffee table and chairs. The TV sat on two brown milk crates and a small set of shelves propped against a wall with a few photos and books.

  She looked at a photo of Lindsay with who she assumed was his brother. Each had an arm wrapped around the other’s shoulder, and each held a huge fish in their other hand.

  She turned to Lindsay. ‘This is James?’

  He nodded and she picked it up for closer inspection. James was also pleasing to the eye but he had that younger, cocky look about him, whereas Lindsay looked strong, sexy and down to earth. She picked up another family photo, this one showing his parents. His dad looked very different from Lindsay, with dark hair and a stockier build. James clearly took after him. But Lindsay and his dad shared the same jaw line. His dad looked unimpressed. CJ wondered whether that was because he was having his photo taken, or whether he always looked like that.

  ‘So, tell me, how old were you when you picked up a handpiece?’ she asked, heading to one of the old rocking recliners. Its fading brown vinyl was hidden by a patterned throw rug. Lindsay’s smooth voice relaxed her as he spoke about when he was eight and his mad uncle got him to shear a lamb for the first time. The way he talked had her mesmerised and brought back memories of her own times with her dad.

  ‘Is your uncle still around?’

  Lindsay shook his head. ‘Nah. He died two years ago. He was my dad’s uncle but we always called him Uncle Bug and I think he had a soft spot for me. He never had any kids. He’d been a shearer all his life and took me on as his protégé. I miss him like mad. Dad used to rent out a house to him on one of our other farm blocks. I used to ride my motorbike over to see him. Mum didn’t like that much – one, because she was scared of motorbikes and two, because she thought Uncle Bug drank too much, and never cleaned the house. But my mum is rather anal like that. She’s always trying to keep up appearances.’

  ‘Remind me not to invite her to our house, then.’

  Lindsay laughed. ‘You won’t have to worry about that. She’d never come here
. They’re still giving me the silent treatment, but I love it here. It’s been so peaceful.’

  CJ detected a hint of something sad behind his words. ‘Wish my dad lived miles away.’

  ‘Did he say anything about you shearing?’

  ‘Nah, you’d get more out of someone in a coma.’ She took a sip from her beer. ‘I wasn’t expecting much. He’s put his shearing and every thing else behind him and won’t speak of it now.’

  ‘That must be hard for you.’

  She dropped her eyes and shrugged. ‘You get used to it.’

  Silence followed until Lindsay cleared his throat. ‘Do you want another beer? Or wanna stay for dinner? I’m having steak and chips,’ he said.

  ‘Nah. Should really head off, hey. Mum will be wanting my company, but thanks anyway. I’ll catch ya in the morning for work. It’s my turn to drive this week, remember.’

  ‘I’ll be at your house on the dot.’ Lindsay got up and walked her out.

  She whistled when she got near her ute. ‘Sam, time to go.’ Almost immediately, Sam was on the back of the ute waiting for her to put his chain on. ‘Good boy.’

  ‘All right. Watch those roos on the way home,’ said Lindsay as he gave her a final wave.

  She watched him in her rear-vision mirror. She was halfway down the drive before he walked back inside.

  14

  CJ stood next to the baling machine, helping John press up another bale. John was in his early thirties, medium height and stocky. The heavy bales were moved effortlessly under his strength. John had a scar down the left side of his face from a fall he had as a kid. It made him look scary but he was a kind bloke, always with a joke on hand.

  She stole a glance at Lindsay, who was getting his handpiece and cutters ready. He was watching her and gave her a wink. The team bus had just arrived and the rousies walked in and put their water bottles down. Then Dave’s bulky, dark frame stepped into the shed through the large doorway and she kicked her plan into gear.

  ‘Hey, Davey, can you pass us those bale fasteners there, please mate?’ CJ was holding the top flap of the bale with one hand and pointed to the box of bale fasteners sitting on the skirting table. She knew Dave was a nice bloke and would help her out any time she asked, so she tried not to cringe when he began to pick up the box.

  ‘Sure, CJ… Ah, shit!’ His voice was hardly heard as a hundred metal fasteners fell to the cement floor through the cunningly cut box. Ping, ping, ping.

  After the last one hit the floor, Lindsay called out to Dave, ‘Payback’s a bitch, hey, Dave?’ He laughed as Dave bent down to pick them up.

  Dave glanced at CJ as she also laughed. ‘Gee, CJ,’ he said, his creamy dark skin turning slightly red. ‘Were you in on this too?’

  She walked over and helped him; the sight of his big fingers struggling to pick up the small metal fasteners was too much to bear.

  ‘I was conned into it, Dave. I had no choice.’ She lowered her voice, ‘But my services are available any time you want to get him back.’

  Irene came over and joined them. ‘So, what are you up to tonight?’ she asked. ‘Let me guess: go home, shower, eat, check your dad, a bit of TV, and then bed, right?’

  CJ smiled. ‘Why, what’s up?’

  ‘Paul is cooking up a seafood feast and I was hoping you’d join us for a little birthday party.’

  ‘But your birthday’s not till Saturday.’

  Irene pulled her dry, blonde hair back into a bun. ‘Yeah, but Paul’s taking me up to see Chris this weekend. Chris has invited us up to see where he lives and meet his parents again.’

  CJ smiled at the way Irene’s green eyes sparkled the moment she spoke her son’s name. ‘Oh Renie. That’s great. You couldn’t ask for a better birthday present. Tell me all about it tonight,’ she said as the music was switched on.

  ‘So you’re coming?’ Irene shouted.

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ CJ yelled back as the first two bellies hit the floor.

  CJ pulled into Paul and Irene’s place. It was a big old house that they’d bought just a few years ago and slowly renovated. She had often helped them with the painting and tiling, happy to be out of her house and in the company of her friends. The paved driveway had only just recently been finished, and its rustic red colour set off the red-painted tin roof perfectly.

  She grabbed Irene’s present off the passenger seat and jumped out, followed by Sam. He loved playing with Paul’s labrador, Princess. They went straight to the open-plan kitchen, where the aroma of seafood made her stomach rumble.

  ‘Howdy, stranger,’ said Paul. He was at home in the kitchen, which suited Irene fine, and he loved trying out new recipes on friends.

  ‘That smells divine,’ CJ said, greeting him with a kiss and a hug. ‘You know I’ll never knock back your cooking.’

  She made her way to the dining room, where their plates sat stacked ready for serving and the six-seater jarrah dining table was set for dinner. Irene was laying out the napkins.

  ‘G’day, Renie. Happy birthday for Saturday.’ CJ embraced Irene tightly and kissed her cheek before holding her present in front of her.

  ‘Thanks, CJ. You didn’t have to, you know. This old duck’s getting too old for gifts.’

  ‘Bugger off. You’re never too old to be spoilt. Open it up.’

  Irene smiled, her teeth slightly stained from years of smoking, and pulled at the bright wrapping paper. Inside she found a box of chocolates, a gift voucher for the local clothes shop and a fridge magnet which had joke Confucius sayings on it, like ‘Man who fish in other man’s well often catch crabs’, and ‘Crowded elevator smell different to midget.’ These brought a few chuckles from them all, and Irene put it straight onto her fridge.

  They tucked into their garlic prawns and salt and pepper squid, and when they’d finished, Irene showed CJ a picture of Chris.

  ‘These are the only pics I have of him. He was just a few days old.’

  CJ held the pictures carefully. The first thing that struck her was how beautiful Irene looked at the tender age of eighteen. Her hair was dark and sleek, her skin smooth and her green eyes vibrant, even though they held such sadness as she gazed at the tiny baby bundled in her arms.

  ‘Irene, you look amazing. And look at Chris. He’s got your nose.’

  Irene smiled. ‘I didn’t scrub up too bad in those days.’

  ‘You scrub up just fine now, too,’ said Paul.

  Irene lent over and rewarded him with a kiss. ‘You know, I often wonder if he ended up with my eye colour. I can’t even remember what colour his dad’s were.’

  ‘So his dad never made any contact, at all?’ CJ asked.

  ‘Nope. Left a week after I told him I was pregnant and haven’t heard a word since. He might not even be alive. We were so young and I hardly knew him. But I made the right choice, for Chris. Sounds like he had a wonderful childhood and his parents love him. He’s going to show me photos of him as a kid. I can’t wait.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you, Irene. It must be amazing just having him back in your life.’

  ‘Yeah, I can’t wait for you to meet him,’ said Irene with a glint in her eye.

  ‘You and your matchmaking! I’m still young. I’ve got ages to find a fella, hey.’

  Paul laughed. ‘Well, just look at us, CJ. Both unlucky in love until now and how old are we?’ He winked at Irene. ‘Well, I think it’s time for the birthday cake.’ He wandered back into the kitchen and brought out a triple-layered black forest cake.

  ‘Wow. That looks amazing,’ said CJ. ‘My belly is already trying to make room for it.’

  Paul sat down at the table and handed Irene the knife. ‘We also have some news we’d like to share with you.’

  CJ saw Irene’s face light up. ‘Irene? Come on. You look like you just won lotto.’

  ‘I feel like I have. Paul has asked me to marry him and I said yes.’

  ‘Whoo hoo!’ CJ yelled, jumping up to give them both a hug.

  �
�I thought I was too old to be getting married,’ Irene said when they’d settled back down.

  ‘It took me five minutes to convince her she’s not,’ finished Paul.

  Irene gazed into eyes, and CJ spotted a tear sliding down her cheek. Irene wiped it away quickly.

  ‘I’m so happy for you both,’ CJ said. ‘Can I see the ring?’ It was white gold, with three small diamonds embedded into the band. ‘It’s beautiful. Perfect, Paul.’

  ‘Yeah, I wanted something practical so she wouldn’t ever have to take it off.’

  They kissed again and CJ shook her head. ‘Oh well. Think I’ll be the first to dig into this cake, then.’

  15

  PEOPLE wearing big funny hats directed them into a large paddock and indicated for them to park next to the line of vehicles. Lindsay stopped next to a bus with ‘Narrogin Agriculture College’ written on the side.

  ‘I still can’t believe you’ve never been to the Woolorama!’ he said as he grabbed his bulky bag, locked his ute and walked between the cars up towards the entry gate. ‘Doug brought me here a few times with him, mainly for the shearing comps. But when I was a boy it was the sideshow alley I loved the most, and the food. You have to try the baked spuds.’

  ‘So, when’s your first heat?’ CJ asked as she paid for her ticket and followed Lindsay past the show jumping. It was quite early and people were still filing in, setting up stalls and getting ready for the onslaught.

  ‘In half an hour. Then after my heat we could go check out the sights.’

  ‘And then come back for the final,’ added CJ.

  ‘Assuming I’ll make it in,’ Lindsay laughed.

  ‘Of course you’ll make it in. You’re bloody amazing.’

  ‘You know, anything can happen on the day. It depends on the sheep and the weather. They’re harder to shear in the morning but the wool opens up in the warm. Plus you gotta pick the right equipment. I’ve seen one shearing comp where this fella had a dicky stand. The motor kept kicking out and he lost time pulling the rope. They gave him some time back but it still would have screwed with his rhythm.’