by Paul Taylor
Kath drove her little red Festiva into her grandparent's long driveway. She got out and closed the gate behind her. As she climbed back into the car she noticed a stranger's car sitting in front of the house, a brand new Taurus, and she smiled to herself. That'd be Sam Layton with a prospective buyer. The smile, though, had a bitter twist. The 'For Sale' sign sitting inside the front fence was starting to yellow around the edges and the two sticks holding it up were badly weathered.
Sam had warned them when they put the property up for sale that it was a buyer's market at the moment, sales were few and far between. But still they'd insisted on listing it, thinking they had a sure-fire winner on their hands. Probably everyone thought their own house was a guaranteed seller though, reflected Kath. That all those other houses sitting on the market for months must have something wrong with them, 'oh, that's not as good as our house'. You just couldn't tell some people.
Now here was another 'interested party' (that's what Sam called them, never customers or buyers, they were always 'interested parties') unless Sam had come to advise them to take their property off the market.
No, there was the 'interested party', standing out the back of the house, looking away across the hill, she saw him as she came up the drive. Something about his stance struck Kath as vaguely familiar but she promptly forgot about it as she pulled up behind the Taurus and he was blocked from view.
Kath hoped Sam was outside with the interested party so she could talk to her grandparents about Neil. He'd been getting worse lately and was starting to scare her. But she had no intention of telling her grandparents that much, she only wanted to sound them out, try and tell how they felt about possibly having a divorcee for a daughter. Hopefully Sam would be showing the buyer around and she could have a few minutes alone with her grandparents. She hated hanging around waiting for him to finish. Lady luck was obviously out powdering her nose though, for as Kath knocked on the door and called out a hello she could hear Sam's Game Show Host voice reassuring her grandparent's that they were doing the right thing and that their house would sell soon enough.
"Come on in, honey," called her Nan.
Kath wondered, opening the screen door and walking inside, why Sam didn't tell them they were backing a losing horse and advise them to take the place off the market for a while. God knew, she had tried, with no success. "Sam knows best," they'd say. "He says we'll sell it soon. The market's coming into an upswing." If it was an upswing it was a hell of a gradual one, thought Kath. It was swinging with all the speed of a glacier.
Maybe Sam was so desperate for them to keep it because he would lose out if they took it off. He would, after all, be earning a commission for this place when he sold it. If he sold it. Kath supposed that if he did advise them the market was too soft that when it did firm up they might go to a different consultant. Or even, god forbid, a completely different agent.
Her grandparents were sitting opposite Sam at the dining table. They smiled at her as she walked in and their faces crinkled up like plastic bags.
"How are you?" she asked, kissing Nan.
"Oh yeah," Nan smiled tiredly at her. "Getting by."
Kath gave Poppy a quick kiss on the cheek and he uttered a brief hello.
"Hi, Sam," she said.
Sam fairly beamed at her. "Hi Kath," he said, and she saw his gaze struggling not to drop to her chest.
"Does anyone want a coffee?" she asked, relieving Sam's battle by turning towards the kitchen door.
"Yes, thanks," said Nan. "Your Pop'll have one too."
"Sam?" asked Kath.
"No thanks," he said. "I have to head off soon."
In the kitchen Kath checked the kettle where it sat simmering on top of the big wood stove. In winter, her grandparents had the wood stove going most days and kept water constantly on the boil, but today it was a bit depleted. She topped it up and put it back on the stove to boil back up again. Reaching up to get coffee mugs from the overhead cupboard she winced at a sudden pain in her right shoulder. She'd completely forgotten that her shoulder was a mess of bruised tissue. She moved more gingerly as she reached up with her left hand and took the cups out.
As she stood spooning coffee and sugar into the three mugs, Kath found herself staring out the kitchen window at the broad back of the 'interested party'. As she looked at him that feeling of familiarity again impressed itself upon her. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a white t-shirt, worn Levis and beat-up Blundstone work boots, with a brown leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He looked like a catalogue model. She watched him run a hand through his hair, and deep inside of her something stirred with recognition. And a little more.
Still staring, the coffee now all but forgotten, Kath watched as he started to turn around and a gasp of astonishment escaped her. She only caught him for a second in profile, could it be-?
Kath raced out through the back door and took the back steps two at a time. She flew headlong off the bottom step and pulled up suddenly. She didn't want to be seen charging at him like a bull at a gate, even though he hadn't noticed her yet. He was bent over, studying something on the ground.
Straightening her hair and adjusting her clothes Kath walked slowly towards the man, calling out to him as she walked.
He jumped as if shaken out of deep thought and Kath smiled as he turned around.
"Hello stranger," she said.
He looked at her as if he couldn't quite work out who, or even what she was. His mouth worked soundlessly and his eyes widened. God, was he choking? Maybe he didn't recognise her, it had been six years, after all. Kath was starting to feel foolish when Ben answered her smile with a grin.
She relaxed a little, but when he answered her hello with an enthusiastic, "Kitty Cat!" she relaxed completely.
"How are you, Ben?" she asked, still smiling.
"I'm great, now," he said, still grinning. "How are you?"
But she couldn't hold it in any longer and she leapt forward and threw her arms around him. "Oh Ben!" she gasped through tears. "It's so good to see you again. I've missed you so much, and no one knew where to find you!"
Ben returned her hug and she tightened against him, briefly pressing her body to his. His arms curled about her waist and she relaxed into him.
They stayed like that for a moment, arms around each other, heads on each other's shoulders and Kath sniffing back tears.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away and wiping at her wet eyes and runny nose. "I really missed you, Ben." She held him out at arm's length. "You never even gave me a chance to say a proper goodbye."
"It's my fault," said Ben. "I'm sorry I didn't come find you. You had other concerns by then."
"I did," she agreed, remembering the guilt of it all, recalling how Ben had simply disappeared into the night, never to be seen nor heard of again. It had been like one of those things you read about, where the husband ducks out to buy milk and never comes back.
"Whatever happened with Neil anyway? You hear from him at all?"
"Actually," Kath waggled her left hand at him, where a simple diamond ring sparkled. "We got married."
"Oh," said Ben, and his face hardened briefly. "Congratulations, I guess."
"Thank you," she said, and blew her nose. "So what have you been doing to yourself? You look terrific."
"Thank you. You're not bad yourself," he said, looking her up and down so that she blushed. "Now, what have I been up to. I'm living in Sydney now, which, I guess, is news to you." She smiled, it was all news to her. "Or at least, I was. I'm thinking about moving back here," he said.
"Why?" she said. "I mean, the only reason I'd go to Sydney is for the shopping, but obviously you enjoy it down there, so why come back to this place?" Her mouth wrinkled in a little moue of distaste.
Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Ah, it was shit," he said dismissively. "I'm just a simple country boy and they don't lie when they call it a rat-race. After six years of commuting and hordes of sheep-minded people I've had about e
nough. I miss the quiet of the country. The peace. I've been thinking of coming back here since Mum's funeral."
Kath touched his arm. "I'm sorry about your mum, Ben. You always seemed so close to her."
"Close wasn't quite the right word for it," Ben chuckled. "I think suffocating describes our relationship better."
"At least you had a mother to watch out for you."
"Yeah," said Ben. "I guess I was lucky. So, what have you been up to? Do you work?"
Kath nodded. "I'm the receptionist for MacDonald Donovan, the accountants."
"And what are you doing today? Wagging work?"
"No," she said. "I don't work Fridays. What about you? What do you do?"
"I design web-pages," said Ben.
"Web-pages? I don't know if there's much call for them up here."
"That's cool," said Ben. "I arranged with my boss to work from home, or what passes for home."
Right then, Sam came out the back door, asking Ben if he was ready to go.
"Um, sure," said Ben. "Sorry," he smiled at Kath. "Hey, can I get your number or something? I'll give you a call."
"Actually, we tend to go out a lot so it'd be better if I called you. Where are you staying?" The lie was smooth and well-worn with use. If Ben picked up on it he gave no indication.
"At Settlers," said Ben. "But I've got no idea what the number is."
"That's okay. I'll get it out of the phone book. But listen, there's a group of us going out tonight to the Cecil, all the guys from school. Do you want to come?"
Ben hesitated and Kath could see the idea didn't appeal to him. She started to tell him it didn't matter, when he answered. He smiled half-heartedly and said that yeah, he'd love to. Kath could tell a lie when she saw it but she didn't push him, at least she'd get to see him again.
"Great!" Kath hugged him again. "I'll see you there around seven!"
Kath hurried inside, giving Ben a wave as he walked back around the side of the house to meet Sam at the front. Her whole body tingled with excitement.
Ben felt Sam's gaze on him the whole way back into town and caught him looking sternly at him more than once. Trying to ignore the man's obvious discomfit, Ben stared at the window, watching the green and brown plains flash past. The cows, seemingly eternal, stood calmly in the fields, chewing cud and lazily watching nothing in particular.
Finally Sam's glaring became too much and Ben snapped, but as he was about to open his mouth Sam spoke.
"I know it's probably not my place to say, but I reckon you'd do well to stay clear of her," he said.
"Her who?" said Ben.
"Kath," said Sam, not looking at him now, watching the road.
"Why?" asked Ben, his irritation growing. Who the hell was this guy to be telling him what to do? "And what the hell business is it of yours?"
It was easier to be annoyed. If Ben could hold up the facade of annoyance it'd block the uneasy feelings he already had.
"I'm sorry," said Sam. "You're right, it's not my business to say anything."
He fell silent, which annoyed Ben even more. "What is it?" he demanded finally. "What's wrong with her?"
"Nothing with her," said Sam. "It's her husband, Neil."
"Well what's fucking wrong with him?" said Ben, this bloody talking around in circles was pissing him off. "Does he have a disease or something?"
"I guess you could say that," said Sam. "Neil happens to be one of those guys who's, let's just say he's a little over-protective of his property."
Ben laughed, a short, sharp bark. "And he's obviously also one of those guys who think a marriage certificate is a certificate of ownership. Give me the keys and I'll take her out for a spin, thanks Father."
"Something like that," said Sam. "I just want you to know, you know. Neil Bryce has a bit of a rep around here for being a bit too easy with his fists when the mood strikes him. I just wanted to warn you."
"Thanks," said Ben, totally confused as to why Sam was telling him this. "I went to school with Neil, I think I can handle anything he throws at me."
"I'm sure you can," said Sam.
And with that somewhat cryptic comment, the conversation seemed to be closed, for they rode the rest of the way in silence, which suited Ben fine.
CHAPTER FOUR