by Jane Carter
‘I haven’t been able to pot since the accident. I just couldn’t do it or face anything. That was scaring me. And the kids are so quiet. It’s breaking my heart. The only decision I’ve made is to come here. I hope you don’t mind. Really,’ she whispered.
Her father put his arms round her and held her. She took a breath.
‘We’re glad you’re home, Diana. Everything will be okay now, don’t you worry.’
Somehow the words didn’t have the impact she’d hoped for. That’s what she’d told herself in the plane coming home—When I get home, everything will be all right.
But she’d shut that out right now. ‘How are those rams you bought a couple of years ago working out?’ She picked a subject she always knew would light her father up. They turned to leave the shed and she waited while he closed the door behind them.
‘Things have changed.’ Tom chuckled. ‘Now we’re looking for meat on their bones. Lambs are worth good money at the moment. I can’t wait to show you. They’re looking quite good.’ And that was high praise from her father.
‘Can we have a look now?’ They’d always passionately shared this interest in the sheep.
‘It’s getting dark, we can see them tomorrow. There are a few going tomorrow, we’ll have a good look at them then.’
Tom kept talking as they made their way back to the house. Diana needed a rest from being in charge. Just a little time off. Strung so tight, she was afraid she’d shatter. Her dad’s words, however, they didn’t ring true. How was it going to be okay?
She had to come to terms somehow with the fact that her Charlie was dead. Killed in a bloody car wreck. She had to get away from the scent of him, that sick feeling it was all a horrible mistake and he was just about to walk right back in the door with that silly grin on his face. His voice hadn’t had a problem, coming all this way with her.
I didn’t want to disappoint you, Diana.
Charlie, Charlie. You wouldn’t come with me before. You said never, remember.
She wanted her resilience back, to lose this feeling of being in limbo. Like when she’d gone to England, shrugged off the hurt, said she didn’t care and made a career in potting. Couldn’t she find the same strength again?
* * *
The next morning the truck arrived at 6 am to load the 160 lambs being sent to the market. The kids stayed motionless lumps under their duvets, despite Diana’s half-hearted attempts to wake them. They needed the sleep. Yawning, she’d pulled a sweater over her T-shirt, as she knew the morning would be chilly. Then she’d gone out with her dad, like they used to.
Watching the big truck slowly backing up, she hoped it wasn’t going to bump the old wooden ramp which looked like it might fall over with the slightest provocation. The yards weren’t as solid as they’d been twenty years ago. The wethers hadn’t taken long to load, they’d flown on despite the so-called help they’d had from the new kelpie pup, whose name she’d discovered was Dave. Eventually she’d had to tie him up just to get him out of the way. Then they got in the ute to go check the sheep.
‘Some things haven’t changed. Dad, how long have you had this ute?’ She gave the stiff door a second bang to close it.
‘No need to change something that isn’t broken. The old girl has given me good service.’
‘You’ve sold the bikes. I couldn’t see them in the shed—only a new, red quad bike.’
‘I kept my old BSA Bantam. I’m going to do it up, restore it to its former glory one day.’
Diana smiled. Her dad had always loved his bikes. She looked over at the old dog in his usual place, standing guard at his shoulder. ‘You’re just an old bikey at heart, aren’t you? And Sinbad’s still going strong?’
‘Mmm, maybe not as strong as he used to be, but the two of us should see each other out.’
‘He certainly wasn’t much use loading. He just sat in the corner with his tongue hanging out and giving the odd bark when he saw you.’
‘We didn’t have a problem loading, did we?’ Tom asked mildly.
‘No.’ Diana laughed, shook her head and settled back, looking around her with interest. ‘You must have had some rain recently.’
‘Just enough to start the ploughing. I’ve been concentrating more on cropping lately. It’s one way to afford to put a bit of fertilizer onto the land. Not a lot of money in the sheep, these days.’
‘Pity, when you’ve got them looking so good.’
‘They’ll come back, always have.’
Oh Dad, you’re just the same. You haven’t changed.
CHAPTER FOUR
Two hours later they were back. Rosie and Mal were in the kitchen with Stella and Saskia.
‘Di!’ Rosie flew round the edge of the table to give her a hug.
‘Oh Rosie!’ Diana exclaimed, with a catch in her throat. Then they were laughing breathlessly. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘I can’t believe it!’ they cried simultaneously. Everyone laughed.
Diana turned to hug Mal. He had to have put on ten kilos. Well, he could carry them; he was still a big, strong fellow. Was that a touch of grey in his dark hair? Rosie was just the same, like their mother, only her hair was still a tumble of light brown curls and her honey-hazel eyes were brimming with tears. Tears had always come easily to Rosie.
‘Di! Your kids are so gorgeous. This Saskia is just so beautiful.’ Retrieving her from Stella, Rosie settled Saskia comfortably back on her lap, kissing the top of her head. Having been her daughter’s security blanket for the last three months, Diana couldn’t help being a little astonished at the easy way she had transferred from her mother to Rosie.
‘Rosie, Mal, it’s so good to see you both. How are you?’ Diana passed a mug of hot tea to her father who had come in behind her and then nursed her own, standing in front of the Aga, with its comforting warmth. The kitchen was always lovely in the morning with the sun streaming in. This was how she remembered it with the four of them together, the big room full of people and forever cups of tea. Her mother in charge, seated at the table with the teapot handy and within easy reach of the toaster.
‘We had to see you before we started work,’ said Rosie. ‘Mal has a job at Lost Valley and I start at nine too, at the hospital. You’ll have to come over for dinner, I’m dying to show you our renovation. Mum says you’ll be here for a while.’
‘Well, I’m pretty directionless at the moment. We needed a bolthole.’
Saskia had her eyes half closed, but reached out all the same to take the finger of vegemite toast her grandmother passed to her. Now, with the two of them together, Diana could see that Saskia was very like Rosie. Two peas in a pod.
‘Careful, Saskia, you’ll get vegemite all over your aunt.’
‘Don’t be such a grouch. We can wipe it off, can’t we, poppet?’ Rosie laughed and ruffled the top of her head. If Saskia had been a cat, she’d be purring.
‘I’m so sorry about Charlie, Diana,’ Mal said gruffly. ‘We were all upset we couldn’t get there for the funeral.’
‘Not that we could have afforded it.’ Rosie’s muttered comment was perfectly audible. Followed by an awkward silence.
‘We should have been there.’ Her mother shot a look at her father.
‘That’s okay,’ said Diana. ‘I understood. It was pretty terrible. Seriously, I can’t remember too much about it, only the fact I had an awful argument with Charlie’s parents. I wanted him cremated and they wanted a burial.’ The four faces just looked at her. Five if you included Saskia. She shouldn’t be saying this in front of Saskia. She shrugged. ‘I just couldn’t face him being buried in the earth forever. He was such a free spirit, he would have hated it.’ Her voice gave way.
‘How are Bill and Janet?’ Tom asked. He’d never met the Suttons but they’d spoken on the phone occasionally.
‘They’re fine. They understood when I told them I needed to come home. They’ve been wonderful, really. Luckily I had enough money in my bank account to get here. Probate won’t be
granted for another few months. Not that there’s much. A bit of insurance, there’ll be more if we sell the house. But my business is there and it’s going pretty well. I have a lovely studio in the attic and all the equipment I need. I have to make decisions.’ Not that she’d been making too many lately. Her head felt stuffed with mush most of the time.
‘There’s no need to make them today. Take your time,’ said Tom.
‘How was the flight over?’ Mal asked.
‘Long,’ said Diana. ‘No, it was good. The flight attendants were so kind, considering we stretched their patience to the limit.’
‘You’re not suggesting my beautiful grandchildren were difficult?’ Her mother reached over to give Saskia a reassuring pat on the knee.
‘Mmm. Everything was fine until that particular grandchild locked herself in the toilet.’ Diana frowned at Saskia, who giggled. ‘There were four attendants trying to explain to Saskia how to unlock the door, watched by a long queue of irate passengers. They were losing patience big time, as we’d all just had breakfast and it was about an hour to landing. It was getting ugly.’
Tom was chuckling. ‘What happened?’
‘Just as they were bringing in screwdrivers, the door clicks and out swans my daughter, looking fresh as a daisy and totally unfazed.’ Diana looked round at her family and grinned. ‘You can all laugh now but I tell you, it was touch and go. I was worried I might be lynched.’
‘Get the wethers away this morning? How many did you send?’ Mal was changing the subject. Diana watched him talking to her dad. Seeing him here in the kitchen was just like old times. He’d been around lots when they were growing up. He’d been her mate really; they’d go careering all over the farm on a pair of yellow Yamaha ag bikes. He’d dare her to jump the creek or a log, or she’d dare him. It had been good fun. The new quad bike looked practical and sedate. It wouldn’t take much to get the kids on it, but was getting back on a motorbike the same as a bicycle, something you never forgot? She hoped so.
‘Well, I’ll see you at home.’ Mal was addressing Rosie but he didn’t look at her, and he sounded a bit short.
‘I’ll be a bit late home probably.’ Rosie didn’t sound too happy either.
‘In that case I’ll see you when I see you. Don’t forget the mail.’
‘Why don’t you and Mal come over for tea tonight?’ Stella said.
‘That’s a great idea. What do you think, Mal?’
‘Sure, we’d love to.’
Mal was saying goodbye. Diana put her hands in her pockets and stayed leaning against the stove. He kissed her mother, but he didn’t kiss Rosie—he barely acknowledged her on the way out after waving to Diana and Saskia.
‘Oh,’ Rosie sighed, ‘I suppose I’d better go too.’
Diana watched her daughter transferred once again to her mother’s lap.
‘There you go, poppet. Say goodbye to the other two for me, won’t you? I’ll see you, Mum.’ Rosie was pulling Diana by the hand. ‘Come out with me and wave goodbye.’
Rather reluctantly, Diana left her warm position by the stove and followed her sister outside.
‘Thank heavens you’re home, Diana.’ Rosie settled herself in her little Honda and fastened the seatbelt. She looked up at her sister. ‘We badly need help convincing Dad he should retire. He’s seventy, you know, and it’s time for us to take over. Mum can’t get him to even think about it.’
‘What does he think he’ll … they’ll do?’ Diana asked. She couldn’t imagine her father moving anywhere else. He was the second generation of Crawfords on this farm. Mog’s Hill was his life.
‘That’s the problem. He’s got no hobbies, and holidays are something they used to do when we were kids. I don’t think they’ve been anywhere for ages, and to make it worse none of his friends are retiring either. It’s so infuriating.’ Rosie started up the engine. ‘See you tonight.’
Diana watched the dust rise behind the car as her sister drove off. Lord, Mal was forty now, the same age as her. He’d been married to Rosie for twenty years. She supposed he was ready to take over. A noisy flock of galahs wheeled and screeched above her, landing on the slender branches of a silver birch. They looked like fluffy pink and grey blossoms as they bobbed and swayed.
Diana leant against the big old gum tree in the garden and absently peeled off a strip of bark. It used to have a swing. Cody’s swing. Damn, there were very few memories of Charlie here but plenty of Cody. Everywhere she turned there was Cody’s smile, her freckled face, a question. She never stopped talking and asking questions. Why is the sky blue, Di? I mean, how does it get to be blue? No one had mentioned Cody this morning. Was that going to happen to Charlie? Twenty-five years on no one would talk about him?
She didn’t turn around as she heard her mother come up behind her.
‘You took the swing down,’ Diana said.
‘Rosie thought it was too dangerous for Philly. We had a little swing set for a while. Then we gave it away.’
‘Rosie doesn’t seem too happy.’
Her mother was carrying a red plastic bucket, which, at a guess, contained dish water. There were buckets all over the house—buckets for the showers, buckets for the toilets and buckets in the kitchen.
Her mother was carefully pouring the water around one of the straggly abelia bushes with its pinky white flowers and narrow bronzed leaves. Looking around, it was hardly a garden any more. The big gum tree was still going, but the silver birch covered with galahs was dead, and the beds had virtually disappeared. Suddenly the birds took off again, wheeling and squawking.
‘Damn birds. They’re always around when your dad is planting. They just follow the tractor, eating all the seeds. I’m surprised anything comes up.’ Stella sighed. ‘I guess Rosie and Mal are going through a rough patch at the moment. Mal is working for the new owner at Lost Valley—city money, and plenty of it. We tell him he’s much better off there but he’s frustrated, I think. What did Rosie want?’
‘She thinks it’s time for you and Dad to retire.’ Diana stayed looking out into the distance, watching her sister’s car make its way to the road.
Her mother gave a little shrug. ‘I thought we’d be retired by now but your father doesn’t want to. He can’t think of a life away from here. Anyway, there’s no money to set us up anywhere else. The drought has taken care of the little savings we’d been able to put aside, and we’ve got Peg to think about right now. We’ve got to get her into some kind of care … I can’t bear the thought of a nursing home just yet and neither can she. So, I don’t know. It’s very difficult.’
‘I don’t get it. How come you can leave someone with dementia living alone in a house?’
‘Your grandmother is very independent, Diana.’
‘I thought I’d go and see her this morning. I might visit her by myself first, before I take the kids. Can I leave them with you?’ She wanted to assess the situation. The news she’d heard only two days ago that her grandmother had dementia was a bit hard to assimilate.
‘Of course you can. There are a few things she needs,’ said Stella, ‘and could you do a bit of shopping for me? I’ll go and write you a list.’
Diana watched her mother carry the red bucket back into the house. She’d had fun explaining the water-saving strategy to the kids last night. The excess water from their showers was saved in buckets for the toilets. They were to put a quarter of a bucket in for number ones, and half a bucket for number twos. The kids were fascinated. Saskia had gone about four times before she’d gone to bed, which completely nullified the water saving.
‘Why are we saving water?’ her practical son had asked.
‘Because we’re in a drought. There hasn’t been enough rain to fill the tanks. All the water for the house comes from the tank out the back. They used to pump it up from the big dam, but it’s too low now.’
They’d all been waiting for Saskia to finish on the toilet, Milo and Sienna crowded into the bathroom with her.
‘What happen
s when we run out of water?’
‘We won’t run out. A big tanker comes and fills up the tank when we get low.’
‘Cool, will it come while we’re here?’
‘Probably.’ At the rate they were all going to the toilet it would be sooner rather than later. Diana had flushed with the quarter bucket allotment and shepherded the three of them back to their bedrooms.
CHAPTER FIVE
It felt so strange driving back into town. So familiar, and at the same time Diana was noticing differences everywhere. The pretty church on the hill as you drove in hadn’t changed, but now new trees boxed in neat brick paving lined the main street. Low growing roses, straggling with last of the season blooms, spilled over on the street corners. Half the shops were empty in the main street, but when you turned the corner there was a brand spanking new supermarket. Not a Woollies or a Coles, it had some other name. The town was nestled on the side of a hill. The steep, wide main street still had all the parked cars backed into the kerb, but Diana could see some new shops she hadn’t seen before, including a trendy clothes shop Sienna would love. There was a fair sprinkling of people around for a Monday morning. The old two-storey bank building was now painted pink and was flanked by a row of riotous geraniums in flower pots. Altogether, her home town had a much fresher look than ten years ago. Someone must have some money.
Slowly she pulled up outside her grandmother’s house with the pretty leadlight windows. Granny had lived there for thirty years. For Diana, it had been a special place while she was growing up. Memories piled one on top of the other—when she was bullied by Tim Spelling and her grandmother threatened to go after him with a stockwhip; spinning dreams of potting before she’d ever remotely thought of telling her parents; her retreat, her refuge, when Cody died. Nothing but strong, unconditional love and support. Diana smiled, remembering apple cakes, plum jams, crab-apple jellies, marmalades, and then jars and jars of green tomato chutney when the last of the tomatoes were threatened by frosts. She’d loved the donuts best. Her grandmother never stopped cooking, and then giving it all away. Granny, don’t get old.