by Fiona Palmer
Lindsay practically pulled her off him. He kissed her tenderly on the lips, their tears mixing all salty and sweet. He was in his ute before she’d even opened her eyes and he drove off with half a wave as she crumbled to the ground.
She lay down on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chest, tears falling upon the earth. Sam pushed his wet nose in close to her face, then lay down beside her. They stayed like that for nearly two hours, until her tears were all spent and the mozzies had begun to drive her mad. Even as she climbed to her feet, she glanced down the road, hoping he’d come back. But there were no ute lights, just the blackness of the night. With a broken heart she staggered back to the house and turned off all the lights, got in her ute and drove home.
32
LINDSAY arrived at his parents’ place after the three hundred-odd kilometre drive. It was ten o’clock at night and the house lights were still on. He walked up the paved walkway to the wide veranda and took off his boots by the entry doors. Inside, he followed the sound of the TV and stepped across the plush carpet to see who was still awake. His dad glanced up, taking in the bags slung off Lindsay’s arms. Lindsay could see the shock in Des’s eyes, and he knew he probably looked like shit.
‘Hey. You the only one up?’
Des nodded. He looked like he wanted to ask what was going on.
‘All right if I stay?’ The words were hard to get out.
Des just gave him a nod towards the bedrooms. ‘Your room’s still there.’
Lindsay nodded back and shuffledoff towards his old room. Everything was exactly how he’d left it. He shut the door, dumped his bags on the carpet and flopped onto the bed. He was exhausted and emotionally drained.
CJ didn’t do what Lindsay asked. She texted him ten times the next morning but she got no replies. She rang four times between each run but every time it rang out, and she didn’t have the nerve to try and find his parents’ home number. She was still hoping he’d just turn up one day full of remorse, but after two weeks he still hadn’t. CJ was tearless; she had cried enough to fill the dry, salty bed of Lake Moore – and then some. Now, she went to work every day with a broken heart. She shore every sheep like her life depended on it. It was all she had left of him.
She started this Monday like any other. But soon the bus arrived and Marty stepped out with another shearer she didn’t know. Jules had a week off.
Irene walked straight over to CJ and put her hands on her arms. ‘I had no idea Marty was working. I’m sorry, CJ.’
CJ saw red – a deep, blood red. How in hell could Doug let this happen! ‘I can’t shear with him here, Renie. He’s ruined our life.’
‘It’s bloody madness. Doug wouldn’t have done this unless he’d had to, CJ. Come on. Just out-shear him. That would be fun.’
So she tried hard to do as Irene said. She kept her head down and didn’t look in Marty’s direction – she didn’t trust herself to keep her emotions under control. Luckily he was on the stand at the other end of the shed. The new bloke – Drill, they called him – was next to her. He’d already shown his disapproval at being stuck near a woman shearer. It was obvious from the glare of his hazel eyes. Every time he stopped for a drink she could feel his eyes on her, unsettling her.
Just before the lunch break she pulled out another ewe and was halfway through shearing it when she felt wetness on her legs. As she lay the ewe down to begin the long blows she saw her pants were wet down the front. Then she felt moisture on her hand with each pass of the handpiece. The wool was wet. She was sure it hadn’t rained. No other bugger was complaining about wet sheep. It wasn’t until she headed out for lunch that the sniggers from Marty and Drill made her realise they were stirring her up. Drill must have been spitting his water over the ewe – maybe even pissing on it! She tried to keep her hands away from her face until she could wash them. Well, stuff them. She wasn’t going to let it get at her. She was getting good at counting to ten, and she’d just have to make sure Marty wasn’t back tomorrow.
She endured Marty’s usual taunts and Drill putting his shit sheep in her pen. No one noticed their games and CJ wasn’t going to go running to the others like a child. She swallowed Drill’s passing comments: ‘Shouldn’t have ta work with a girl. Must be no decent shearers left if they gotta get a girl in.’ They were bastards, but she survived.
Upon leaving the shed, Marty gave her a wink. ‘I hear lover boy up an’ left ya. You can always come home with me.’
‘After what you’ve done to us, you really have the nerve to make a smartarse comment like that? You’re the one responsible for this whole mess. Don’t you even care?’
CJ saw a flicker of regret, or something very similar, pass through his black eyes. But then it was gone and he laughed. The bastard laughed. She pushed both hands hard into his chest and he stumbled back.
‘Leave me the fuck alone.’ She spun on her heel and walked away.
The rest of the crew suddenly tuned in to what was going on.
‘You bitch,’ he spat as he stepped towards her. ‘You’ve had it coming for ages. You know you shear how you fight? Like a girl,’ he said forcefully, trying to get her attention. It worked. And some part of her was glad he hadn’t given up.
She saw Dave move to help but she was much closer. Her water bottle hit the ground, followed by her towel. She took two large strides and sent her right hook out with all her might and muscle. She had weeks of pent-up frustration and hurt.
Marty wasn’t expecting the strength and anger behind her punch. His head cracked to the side and saliva flew out of his mouth. His arms flayed at his side as he went down into the dirt once again. This time he lay there stunned, like a wounded animal. Her knuckles throbbed like she’d just pounded a brick wall and she was breathing heavily, more from the shock of her anger than physical exertion.
‘Why don’t you do everyone a favour, Marty, and just fuck off!’ She left him on the ground and headed to her ute with Irene in tow.
They left the shearing shed in a cloud of dust, sitting in silence until they hit the main road.
Irene looked at CJ, CJ glanced at Irene, then Irene started to laugh at the top of her lungs.
She smacked CJ on her upper arm. ‘Damn, girl. That was the best thing I’ve seen. Put your muscles to good use, I reckon. Did you see the look on everyone’s face?’
CJ shook her head. Her heart was still beating fast with adrenaline. ‘Hell, no. I just wanted to get outta there before he came at me with both fists flying.’
‘No chance. You would’ve dropped him on his arse again. Every one of us would have been there for you, except Drill… Oh, and Dave gave you a big thumbs up. You know they’ve all wanted to do that themselves.’ Irene saw the hard look on CJ’s face. ‘Besides, if it wasn’t for him, Lindsay never woulda left and you know that. We better go by Doug’s place so we can sort out what the heck’s going on. No one wants him back tomorrow.’
At Doug’s place nobody was home, so they headed to the shearers’ quarters to see if anyone knew anything. Irene went in while CJ hid in the car out of sight in case the rest of the crew, including Marty, turned up.
‘Tank said Doug’s gone to Perth with the family for a few days… something about the zoo,’ Irene said when she returned. ‘He told Tank to keep things running and when Troy pulled up sick, he needed a fill-in. Tank didn’t even realise. He said sorry, but wished he coulda seen Marty land flat on his arse. I didn’t think Doug would have let that happen.’
‘Yeah, me either. Come on. I’ll get ya home to your hubby!’
The next day Marty wasn’t at work and CJ doubted he’d ever be back – not in her team anyway. Dave had told her that Marty had a shiner ‘bigger than the ones your dad gives you’.
But it was at work on Thursday that her life-changing plan formed. It was the end of the second run and Kate had stopped to wait for her fleece. CJ pulled the rope and pushed the ewe down the chute. Kate was still watching her with a faraway expression.
‘What�
�s up, Happy?’
‘I think you’re amazing. I mean, I love to watch you shear and you make it look so easy for a girl. You’re lucky you had someone like Lindsay to teach you. I doubt I could get one of these blokes to teach me, and really… they don’t shear as good as Lindsay anyway. Could you teach me?’ Kate looked at her with surprise, like she’d shocked herself with the question.
‘Um…’ CJ put her hands on her hips as she thought.
‘Sorry. It’s just something I’d like to have a go at, you know… but don’t worry about it.’ Kate picked up the fleece and carted it off.
CJ rocked on the heels of her feet, thinking about what Kate had said. Ideas started to flow and take shape.
She found Kate after lunch and asked her straight out. ‘Would you be interested in going to a shearing school to learn to shear properly?’
Kate’s eyes grew as large as her smile. ‘Shit, yeah. Why? Do you know of one I can go to?’
‘No, but I was thinking of maybe setting one up here in Lake Moore. What do you think?’
‘Sounds like a great idea. There’s always people wanting to learn and Doug would love it. He’d never knock back new shearers.’
Kate was right. The plan was starting to sound better and better. She would have to talk to Doug and pick his brain. And maybe Burt would let her lease his shearing shed. She’d definitely need to see the bank for a loan. Whoah, she thought. First she should just start by writing down a plan. It was going to take time and a lot of money but she was sure it would work. She could get sponsors for the gear and everything. For the first time in weeks she felt happy. She had a goal, a purpose. She knew this dream belonged to Lindsay, and maybe she’d stolen it, but it was fast becoming her dream too. If she made it happen, it might bring him back.
For the first time in ages CJ found herself smiling. She was having dinner with Irene, Paul and Chris tonight and she’d discuss it with them, see what they thought – especially Chris, with his financial background. CJ watched the way the dust particles glistened in the sunlight as it beamed into the shed, and the smells of lanolin and machine oil suddenly invaded her senses. She was starting to feel alive again.
Lindsay leaned against the steel pen where they’d just put the mob of sheep. He looked over Summerilla, across paddocks of crops that were almost golden, with patches of green, swaying in the breeze. Another few weeks and they’d be driving the header through them. It was a beautiful farm. Over winter the gentle, rolling hills filled with lush green. It was a magnificent sight, especially from the sheds and homestead, which were situated on the side of a hill. Some days in winter, the morning mist would sit in the lower valleys while the higher areas poked out above it. It was like being in the land of the clouds, like being in heaven. He didn’t hate this place – in fact he’d loved growing up on a farm.
But was he happy to be back? Not really. His parents had taken him in without a word. They didn’t hound him with questions, although he knew they were itching to ask. His mum gave him some space and didn’t pressure him to talk. And his dad actually seemed happy. Having both boys back on the farm was obviously important to Des, but they never mentioned the issue of his biological father. Lindsay wasn’t in the right place for that yet, and Des must have known.
Lindsay had really shut himself away from them. But James was his confidant. Lindsay still felt like crap, and lived in constant pain, but at least he didn’t hate himself for the way he’d been treating CJ. He had set her free, free from more heartache. Not a day went by where he didn’t think of her – when he woke, when he slept, when he worked. James was always teasing him about his ‘faraway look’ and wouldn’t let him out of his sight. The poor guy had been so worried about him he’d made him go and see the Agcare counsellor who came to town every week. After three days of James’s constant nagging, Lindsay had finally agreed to go. James had told him he wasn’t weak in seeking help; it was the smart thing to do. Lindsay thought back to his first session, when he could hardly talk. Now the words came freely and he was thankful for Margaret’s nonjudgemental ears and reassuring voice. He’d always be grateful to James for insisting. He had such a big heart.
Lindsay looked at his brother, who was standing beside him dressed in a blue singlet and work jeans getting some drench ready. His sunnies perched on his head as he tried to read the dosage.
‘Hey, I know you worry about me, but you don’t have to, okay?’ Lindsay said. ‘I’m going to be fine.’
James eyeballed his brother. ‘You sure? I hear of depressed people who seem okay and then the next day they’re… you know. Have you heard the statistics on suicides in the bush? I mean, there are farmers thinking there’s no other way out. Families are left in shock because they didn’t see it coming. I don’t want that to be me one day. I’m glad you’re still seeing that counsellor.’
‘Yeah, Margaret is good. She suggested I see a doctor and I’ve got antidepressants to help me improve. She said they’d help me be more in control of my emotions so I can start functioning again, and when I’m good I can go off them. I’ll see how they go.’ Lindsay shrugged.
James nodded and pointed at himself. ‘You always have me to talk to. Remember that before you do anything rash.’
‘No chance of that. It’s just going to take time. I miss CJ. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. I want to be with her so much, but I couldn’t help how bad I was feeling – am feeling. The depression was just taking hold of me, like I was out of control. I couldn’t help but say horrible stuff and be so mean. I was jealous of her, and angry.’ He paused and absentmindedly rubbed his busted wrist and arm, which always ached. He could carry a cup of tea, but not twenty-litre drums. He scratched at his beard and realised he had let himself go. He was wearing loose, torn jeans and a ragged blue singlet.
‘You know, you really ought to shave. I’m worried you’re going to scare off all my lady friends,’ James said, laughing. ‘No, hang on. I think it’s better you look like an old perv.’
Lindsay smiled. It was his little brother who pulled him up when he felt himself sinking. He didn’t know what he’d do without him.
33
CJ adjusted a bottle of scotch on the table like she was finessing flowers in a vase. She checked on the roast again and then her watch. Burt should be here any minute. For a moment she wondered whether Burt had heard from Lindsay. As she set the table she heard a ute approach and Sam started barking madly. CJ ran a hand over her yellow singlet and smoothed out her white cargo shorts. She was nervous and she hoped it didn’t show. She glanced across to Chris, who was well dressed in slacks and a crisp white shirt.
‘Thanks for coming, Chris. I can’t wait for you to meet Burt. He’s a diamond in the rough.’
Chris smiled and CJ admired him. He was different from Lindsay but also attractive with his bright-green eyes and gentle demeanour.
‘CJ?’ Burt’s deep voice rang out from the back door.
‘In here, Burt. You know your way in.’
‘Ah, there’s my girl. Pretty as a picture,’ he said as he waddled into his kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. ‘So this is Chris?’ Burt eyed him as Chris stepped forward and shook his hand. ‘Irene’s boy, hey?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Chris with that bright smile.
‘Something smells great. Oh, and look at the table. What are you up to? Is it my birthday?’
‘No, Burt. Not for a few months yet. Come on. Sit down while I serve up the tucker.’ She pulled out a chair for Burt and he raised his eyebrows at her.
‘I’m smelling a rat!’
CJ put on an innocent face. ‘Nope, no rat! That’s just pure beef cooking away in there.’
‘Sit down, Chris,’ Burt said. ‘A friend of CJ’s is a friend of mine. She’s told me all about you.’
Chris glanced at CJ. ‘Has she now? What did she say?’
‘That you’re moving into town. Can’t say I like what you do for a job. Thieving mongrels, really,’ he said, laughing.
‘Remember how I told you Burt doesn’t beat around the bush? Take no notice,’ she said, but Chris had already waved it off.
‘Well, Burt, here’s your gravy. Dig in. I doubt it’s as good as one of your roasts, but it’s made with plenty of love.’
Burt winked at CJ. ‘I’m sure it’s way better!’
They jabbered on throughout their meal and talked mostly about Chris’s new venture.
‘Irene suggested it. I think she really wants more time with me.’
‘Ya think?’ added CJ, teasing.
Chris smiled, and brushed his dark fringe back. ‘After the firm closed down, I was just happy to spend some time out here. I really like it and my parents have gone off doing the grey nomad thing in their new bus. When Irene saw the empty shop, she suggested I start my own business out here. And it’s steamrolled from there. CJ’s just finished helping me deck it out.’
‘Yep, looks just like a city office now, all swanky,’ said CJ with a smirk.
Burt grunted. ‘Maybe you could do my books, then. The accountant I’ve got is a wanker.’
CJ and Chris both laughed. ‘Burt, you think they’re all wankers,’ CJ said.
It wasn’t until CJ had put their dishes in the sink and poured their first scotch that she broached the subject that had her nerves twitching.
‘Burt, I have a plan and I think it will work, but a lot of it depends on you. I’ve been developing it with Chris for a few weeks now.’ She told him about the shearing school idea. His steel eyes never flinched. ‘I was hoping I could lease your shearing sheds and the house. The shed is in good nick, considering its age, and I wouldn’t need to do too much to bring it up to standard. I’d fit out the house so it could sleep eight or more. I figured it would be better to only take on six to eight students for maybe two weeks. That way they could have more one-on-one training. I want them to learn the correct technique, like Lindsay taught me. Oh, and we can shear all your sheep for free too!’