by Jane Carter
Diana snuck a look at her daughter, and Sienna looked horrified. She turned the page quickly. Her grandfather was holding up a snake. It reached to the ground.
‘He was a beauty, wasn’t he?’ Peg said with some relish. ‘A king brown, quite unusual really, didn’t find many of them.’
Diana wondered whether to close the book, find something her grandmother could reminisce about safely that wouldn’t scare Sienna to death. She picked up another album. There were the pictures of herself and Rosie and Cody.
Well she’d asked for this one. The inevitable question.
‘Who is that baby?’ asked Sienna.
‘That’s me. That is Rosie and the baby is Cody.’
Diana was unprepared for the wave of sadness that swept over her when she looked at the round baby face. She and Rosie had adored Cody.
‘Was Cody your sister too?’
She’d told the kids before about Cody. They’d obsessed about it at the time, but maybe Sienna had forgotten.
‘How is Cody?’ Peg asked suddenly.
Diana blinked. She never knew when she was going to come out with something random. ‘Oh Granny, you remember, she died a long time ago, when she was six.’ A look at Sienna’s expression had her rising to her feet. ‘I’m sorry, look at the time. We’ve got to go, Mum’s waiting for us.’
They left, leaving Granny looking through the album on her lap, singing gently to herself.
* * *
On the drive back to the hospital, where they were to meet Stella and Saskia, Diana got sick of questions about Cody. How old? How big? Who did she like best? Where did she sleep? Why was she called Cody? It made her so sad.
‘I’ve got no idea, ask Stella. That’s enough questions. Look, here’s where we can get some DVDs.’
‘Why don’t Tom and Stella have Foxtel?’ Sienna asked, as they got out of the car.
‘Oh Sienna.’ Diana laughed. ‘Here in rural Australia, they aren’t quite as up to date as London in this stuff. Trust me, you can get some lovely films on DVD, and all the same shows,’ she assured her.
‘Mummy, why doesn’t Granny know who I am?’
‘Granny’s very old and her memory’s failing her, although she can remember what happened in the past as clear as day. I wish you could have known Granny as I knew her. She was such an amazing strong woman. She worked so hard mustering and helping Grandfather Frank with the sheep. I think she loved Mog’s Hill as much as he did. I love her so much, Sienna, but she’s getting old. We just have to be patient.’
‘Okay.’ Sienna slipped her hand in hers.
They left the store weighed down with seven DVDs—a full week’s viewing in the white plastic bag.
Walking through the quiet hospital once again, without the sense of urgency she’d had last time, they pushed their way in through the door of the kitchen.
‘Rosie!’ Diana called.
She appeared round the corner, tucking her hair into the paper cap they had to wear in the kitchen.
‘Hello, you two! Sit up here, Sienna, and I’ll get you a biscuit. How was Granny?’
CHAPTER TEN
It had been just two weeks and, fingers crossed, they were settling in beautifully. The kids were so relaxed, a holiday was obviously what they’d needed—okay, what she’d needed. Diana grinned at her daughters, and shook the dice vigorously in her hands.
‘One. Not good but not too bad. Your go, Sassy.’
Stella stuck her head round the door. ‘Your father said to remind you he wanted you to come and look at the sheep.’
Diana looked up from the game of snakes and ladders she was playing with the girls. Her father had said this morning he thought more young lambs were ready to be drafted off their mothers. Then they’d send the next lot off to sale. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s up in the machinery shed. With Milo.’
Saskia threw a two. ‘No!’ she screamed.
‘Down you go. Poor Sassy,’ said Sienna with relish. ‘Justice. I had to slide two rows on my last go.’
‘Mum, you’ll have to stand in for me. I’m nearly there, I only need a four.’ Diana jumped up.
‘But, Diana …’ Her mother relented as she looked at the entreating faces of her granddaughters. ‘All right.’ She sank to the floor. ‘When is it my turn?’
Diana found Tom and Milo in the sheep yards. Tom was bent over, examining the wool on one of the mothers. He parted the wool downwards with his fingers, exposing the bright, white centre. ‘Look at this wool, Milo, it’s a good length, colour’s good. Beautiful.’ His excitement was infectious.
Diana laughed. She loved watching her dad with his sheep. Now here she was seeing her son experience the magic. She climbed over the fence into the yards. ‘It’s a real shame to be selling off these beautiful young merinos, just when you’ve got them so right.’ She couldn’t help teasing him.
‘Times have changed. I can get good money now for these young’uns, it’s been one of the benefits of getting them so big. I’m surprised they’ve done as well as they have, as the season has been pretty dry and not much feed. Diana, catch that one over there.’
She grabbed it under the chin with one hand, the other on its tail, and guided it over to the fence.
‘You haven’t lost your touch, Diana.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ve always been handy with the sheep. Now, this one’s not so good, Milo. Look at the teeth—if they can’t chew properly they’ll never grow.’
Diana couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Milo copying her father, peering into the sheep’s mouth, seriously examining the bite and then scrunching the wool to feel its density.
Tom was concentrating on the sheep he’d nudged against the fence and was holding in place with his hip as he inspected its wool. ‘Mmm, no, this one’s a cull.’ Then he let the sheep go. ‘Milo, open that gate. I’ll put him in the yard there.’
Diana found herself at the back of the mob just watching the two of them.
Your father never used to ask me to do things for him. Milo’s not bad, though, is he?
Sorry Charlie, you were hopeless in the yards, always in the wrong spot. You never seemed to understand that sheep go away from you, not towards you.
He’s not frightened of them, is he?
No, I’m so proud of him.
Was she creating these conversations with Charlie? Did they have these kinds of conversations, really? Or was it her imagination? Last night had been bad. She couldn’t sleep. Charlie was in her head, asking what was it she wanted out of this trip home. There were no real answers. Or rather, so many it would have taken hours to sort them all out. She’d had to get up and make herself a cup of tea. Luckily Saskia hadn’t woken.
‘Thank you for taking the time to go and see Mum, it’s so good for her,’ Tom interrupted her reverie, as the sheep circled around them.
‘You know I love her so much.’
‘Two of a kind, you two. You know I see a lot of my mother in you, Diana, and frankly, I can’t do it. See her like she is. So thank you.’
‘I owe her plenty. She was always ready to listen to my problems in my teenage years.’
Diana looked at her father over the backs of the sheep, and then clapped her hands and whistled to get the sheep moving into the next yard.
* * *
‘You’ve missed a call from the medical centre.’ Stella looked up as Tom walked past her to the sink. He looked tired. ‘Did you miss your appointment again?’
‘Probably.’ He stopped to fill a glass of water.
‘Have you made another?’
‘No, I haven’t. I haven’t got time. Stupid doctors, all they want to do is test after test. It’s costing the country a fortune and for no bloody sense that I can work out.’
‘Do you want me to make one for you?’
‘No, I don’t. I’m feeling okay, and it can all wait until Diana goes back. So just leave it.’ Angry, he put the glass into the sink. ‘And don’t talk about it to the girls, either.’
&nbs
p; Stella watched him go. What was he on about? His hands were shaking, it simply was not like Tom to act like this. It was probably pretty stressful, having everyone here, she guessed it might be taking its toll on him. She’d try to see he got some quiet time this afternoon. She looked at the clock. Damn, Rosie would be waiting. Stella had said ten minutes ago she’d meet her at the gate with Peg’s washing, so she wouldn’t have to come all the way up here.
Stella picked up the washing basket and slipped outside and into her little car. She felt a little guilty as she pulled up at Rosie’s entrance. She hadn’t seen much of her second daughter since Diana had come home.
‘How’re things?’ Rosie was leaning against her car as Stella pulled up.
‘Busy. I’ve got to get back to prepare lunch. They’re big lunches these days, and Milo eats enough for four. I must admit I don’t see a lot of Milo, he’s Tom’s little shadow.’
‘Well, Dad must be enjoying that, I guess,’ said Rosie. ‘No worries. It fitted in perfectly as my shift starts at two. Could you do with some eggs?’ She handed over two egg cartons as she took the basket of Peg’s washing from Stella. ‘Guess what, the hospital want more of my organic free range eggs—they love ’em. So I’m getting more chooks on the weekend.’
‘Wonderful. You’re so good with those chooks. When we had them, they used to look so smugly at me, as if to say “no eggs for you today”. I never knew what I was doing wrong but I’d obviously insulted them.’ Stella smiled. ‘How are things with you? I’m sorry we haven’t met up for our coffee recently. It’s all been so hectic.’
‘That’s okay. I heard from Philly yesterday.’
‘Oh, how’s she doing?’
‘Fine. I miss her so much but she’ll be home at the end of this semester for the holidays. I’m dying for Diana to see her. Will they stay that long do you think?’ Rosie asked. ‘How’s Dad doing with all the people in the house?’
Stella shook her head. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with him. He’s not himself. He won’t talk to me about it, he just blows up or stalks out of the room.’
‘I wish you’d get him to talk to someone.’
‘Ha, really, can you see that happening?’
‘Granny is enjoying having Diana around, isn’t she?’ Rosie sounded a little wistful.
‘Well, I think it’s been good for Diana too. They’ve always had a special rapport. She was wound up so tight when she got back. I think she likes talking to Peg because she adored Charlie and they can just talk about the old days. And that’s where Peg is happiest.’
‘A few weeks here will be good for Diana. She can slow down a bit. She always goes at a hundred miles an hour.’
‘Well, I’d like her to open up and start talking to me,’ said Stella. ‘I’ve tried everything I know, but Diana just clams up or changes the subject. She’s not really coping. She gets up at two in the morning, wanders around the house and makes herself a cup of tea. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling.’ She stopped and gazed at the empty road stretching out in front of her. ‘I could never understand Diana’s fascination with Charlie.’ She glanced at Rosie. ‘I shouldn’t say that, should I? I did get a different side of him in England, but that honeymoon trip, when they came out here, he was so remotely polite. He seemed to think he was doing us some great favour, lending us Diana for a couple of weeks. It was difficult working him out.’
‘Well, he’s gone, and what’s Diana going to do now?’ said Rosie. ‘That’s what I’d like to know. She’s not thinking of staying is she?’
‘I wish she was. It would be the best—’
‘I think that would be an idiotic move,’ Rosie interrupted. ‘She’s a famous artist living in London. What on earth would she find good about living round here? Give me the opportunity and I’d be out of here like a flash.’
Stella looked at her daughter. ‘Are you serious? I’ve never heard you say that before.’
‘Never wanted to before.’ she sighed. ‘Mal gets me down sometimes. He’s pretty frustrated at the moment. I wish you two would get a bit more definitive about what your plans might be?’ She looked at her watch. ‘Mum, I’ve got to go. Music Club auditions for the Soiree are tomorrow night—wish me luck. Don’t pay any attention to my whinging. Love you.’ And with a quick kiss and a hug she was off.
* * *
Lunch was nearly ready. Diana and the girls should be back from town any moment. Stella was humming to the radio and smiled. It was a long time since she’d cut sandwiches into little triangles.
Two sons-in-law she’d been allotted, but Mal and Charlie were very different men. She knew which one she liked best. Was she being unfair to Charlie? He certainly had charm. And he’d been so different in London. On her first and only trip to London, he’d shown her around one day, taken her to have her first pint of bitter at the ‘local’. His parents, Janet and Bill Sutton, were good people, well meaning. Charlie was just … oh, damned if she knew.
Picking up a couple of Saskia’s hair ribbons, she smiled and put them on the shelf beside the stove. She was so like Rosie. Stella couldn’t help it, she just loved her to death. She was always saying such funny, bright things. Stella had gone to England for two weeks when Saskia was born. It would have been more fun if Tom had come too and if Diana hadn’t been so exhausted. But at least she’d got to see Gospel Oak where they lived, where they shopped, just the little things that helped her see the kind of life Diana was leading.
They were really very good children. Sienna was just like Diana, stubborn as all get out. She didn’t envy Diana the next few years while they were going head to head. On the other hand, it was poetic justice, wasn’t it? With a little smile, she went over to the window.
She’d missed all their tiny, growing years. Photos just didn’t do it, and the phone calls were fairly spaced apart. Longer and longer—the space apart, not the phone calls.
Tom had said not to worry, that they needed to live their own lives, but that didn’t take away her need to be part of their lives. She could be happy with even just a little part. Being half a world away didn’t help. There were simply a few things Tom and she didn’t agree on. Not many, but more than there used to be.
In a marriage lasting forty-two years you’d think everything would be sorted. Were they just getting older and all the pressure of coping with all these dry years taking its toll, or was it depression, like Rosie said? Did she really want to know? She wished Tom would see someone. She couldn’t imagine him going to Will Talbot, their doctor, and asking him something like that. He’d die first. Men were impossible when it came to their health.
And if it wasn’t one child it was the other. Her youngest daughter was unhappy, restless. Or was it only Mal? And it’s hard for a mother when her child leaves home. It changes everything. This was Phillipa’s second year away and they were all missing her, but it must be really awful for Rosie. After being a mother full-on, you have to find another reason to be on this earth, another direction. If only she’d been able to have some more kids, it would have made such a difference for her. Rosie and Mal had even tried IVF around ten years ago, when Diana started having children, but the endometriosis flared right back up again. The IVF drugs had caused it, apparently. So it was just not meant to be, but it was very sad all the same. Rosie had wanted another child so much.
The weather report started on the radio and she turned it off. Damn the weather. The succession problem had to be resolved. The understanding was Tom would retire when he was seventy, but he was seventy now and he wasn’t showing any signs of retiring. No wonder he was short-tempered all the time. Her husband and her son-in-law did not seem to be able to work together. Mal was a terrific stockman but he couldn’t stand sheep, and Tom had never had cattle on the place. The thought of his flock dispersing just about broke his heart.
Stella put a tea towel over the sandwiches. But it was now Tom’s turn to find another direction. Then there was the small matter of what they would have to live on. She
’d suggested they move into Mal and Rosie’s house, but that didn’t solve the problem. What on earth were they going to do?
She walked over to the yards to get Tom and Milo for lunch, humming to herself. It was such a glorious day, with a blue, blue sky and not a cloud in sight. Clear and cool. A pair of Mountain Lorikeets swooped and chattered from tree to tree with flashes of blue and red. As long as it wasn’t the white cockatoos, she didn’t mind. They were so destructive, so raucous. She’d been known to get out Tom’s gun and shoot at them on occasion, not that she’d ever hit many. They’d just fly around for a bit and then settle back down on the branches, swaying and chattering among themselves, as though nothing had happened.
She stood there watching for a little while. Tom was nearly finished drenching the mob of sheep in the yards. He was halfway down the last race. Despite the slight chill in the air, Tom was sweating. It was such back-breaking work, struggling with each sheep to put that wretched pipe down its throat. Using your knees and free arm to pull their head up for the second it takes.
The sheep weren’t helping, not that Stella blamed them. She wouldn’t much like that pipe thrust down her throat, either. Milo stood at the end of the race, opening the gate after Tom finished to let the sheep out. She used to do that. A hundred years ago, as a young bride. It had been so much fun. Then the girls took over. Then it was her turn again after they left home. Tom is seventy years old. Hasn’t he got any sense at all? Surely he could see it was time to pack it in.
‘Hey, lunch is ready.’
Later that afternoon Stella went to find Tom. He was in the office. There weren’t many private spots in the house at the moment. She went in quietly. He was sitting at the desk with the accounts spread out before him. He was asleep with his head flung back on the chair, snoring slightly, and it was still an hour or so before dinner. She left him to it.
* * *
They were sitting round the table at dinner. Stella watched the children, Diana and Tom, picking their way through the lamb casserole, thick slices of bread and butter, and green peas.