Family Farm (33 page)

They shook hands and Di asked, ‘Would you all like to stay for tea?’

Simone gave Di a hug. ‘No, thanks, Mum. We’ll whip something up at home. We’ll get Izzy settled in first.’

A wave of sadness slapped Izzy as she watched them embrace. She saw a kindness in Di’s eyes that made her miss her own mum even more. ‘Thanks, anyway. It was nice of you to offer. I can’t believe how generous you’ve all been. Thank you so much, once again.’ Izzy added.

Alan motioned to the dining table and Izzy pulled out a chair. ‘I’ll pay you what I was going to pay the rent-a-workers, and you can stay with the kids at their place. That’ll be included in your wage.’ Izzy listened as Alan rattled off the terms. ‘I’ll ask Di to get together the paperwork and pass it on to you some time this week. See you tomorrow at seven.’

‘No worries.’

‘Come on. We’ll show you our place,’ said Blake after Alan had finished his spiel.

‘Nice to meet you, Izzy. We’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Di with a smile.

‘You too. Bye.’

Two minutes later, Blake was carrying her bag as they followed Simone towards their house. It was too dark for her to see much but she could feel the closeness of trees and smell the native bushes nearby. A couple of sensor lights came on and lit up the pathway and backyard. ‘I take it you don’t get much time to garden,’ said Izzy, as she walked past weeds that came to her knees and a lawn that was nearly a foot in height. They either didn’t spend much time at home or weren’t into gardening.

‘No, but you must admit we’re bloody great at growing weeds. Blake manages to mow the lawn every now and then, so that’s a plus,’ Simone said as she opened the flywire door.

‘Simo does have the time. But she doesn’t want to break a nail,’ jeered Blake.

‘That’s not true! It’s just that there’s so much there and it would take forever. Ignore him, Izzy. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.’ They walked into the kitchen with its mint-coloured walls. The stove looked older than Izzy, and grease was splattered up the tiles that covered the wall behind it. The country-style kitchen also had a round dining table in the centre. Blake gave Izzy her bag as Simone took her arm and led her past the lounge room, with its worn brown carpet and old vinyl rocking chairs, down a narrow passageway with mission-brown doorways and architraves.

‘This one’s mine, that one’s Blake’s, and this can be yours. It used to be Blake’s, but he’s moved into Mum and Dad’s old room now ’cos it’s bigger. Anyway, I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ll just go grab you some bed sheets and a towel.’

‘Thanks, Simone.’ Izzy walked into a cream-coloured room. It was bare except for a double bed and a chest of drawers. She sank down onto the mattress and looked out a small window above the bed.

‘I know it’s not home, but I’m glad you’re here, anyway,’ said Blake from the doorway. ‘Go on, get unpacked and we’ll start dinner. I’m not a bad cook, if I may say so myself.’ He sauntered off and left her to it.

Izzy unzipped her bag and placed her remaining clean clothes in the top drawer, leaving the rest in her bag. Thank God she’d found a place – she really needed to do some washing. With the unpacking done, she laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She could see a few star stickers stuck up there and smiled as she remembered the ones that had adorned Claire’s old room. Tonight she’d enjoy seeing them glow. Izzy closed her eyes and began to relax. She wondered what her parents were doing. Her mum would be worrying, probably trying to find Izzy or waiting for her to call. But her dad? Well, somehow she couldn’t imagine him being too upset. He was probably still fuming. Then she thought of Will. His image came to mind easily. She pictured him shirtless, his track pants hanging low off his waist, as he shuffled around his house. Would he be eating or watching TV? Or maybe he’d be lying in bed trying to picture her too? She could only hope.

WILL went to Bill and Jean’s for a roast dinner and spent the whole time filling Bill in on the things Izzy had accomplished while he was away. Bill wanted Will to take him up to the shed at some time and show him the workbench she’d built. He found it hard to picture Izzy welding. It had come as a shock, but he was impressed. Will also passed on Izzy’s dreams and plans for Gumlea that she’d shared with him over the past few months – the canola and new varieties of wheat she had it in mind to try, and the idea of introducing some better stud rams.

By the end of the night, Bill really did seem to have heard what Will was saying. In fact, he almost seemed in awe of his daughter. He’d underestimated her so much. This should have been a thrill for Will to see, but he just felt sad that Izzy had never been able to get this through to Bill herself. After a big bowl of apple pie and ice-cream, Will said as much to Bill.

‘I know, Will. I see that now and you can’t imagine how much it pains me. I knew she had stuff to say but I was too scared to listen. I thought all would be okay if I just stuck to my guns. I guess it just made things worse. I’m hoping she’ll ring you, mate. If she’ll call anyone, it’ll be you.’

Will nodded, but inside he wasn’t so certain. Their relationship was complicated now. He didn’t know where he stood any more.

Needing time to ponder, to clear his head, he headed to his thinking spot. It was a small granite rock in the reserve between their place and Bill’s, where the views were stunning. All around was the fresh smell of the scrub bush and the wet scent from the moss that clung to the rock. Long ago, it had been his and Claire’s spot. Many a time they’d met up there, with a six-pack of beers each, to watch the sunset and talk. When they were under-age, they used to sneak out and drink the grog they’d pinched from their parents’ beer fridge. Then they’d try and creep back home and pretend they were stone-cold sober. He was surprised that they’d never ended up lost getting back through the bush.

Will sat back in the old deck chair with its fraying canvas, and sipped his beer. There was an empty chair beside him, Claire’s chair, and it sat protected from the weather by the large boulder that was half hollowed out, almost like a cave. It had a protruding lip that stuck out like a mini verandah. Over the years they’d decked the area out with a few milk crates for storage of their playing cards. They also doubled as a table when the time called. They had an old esky to keep the beers cold and some rugs and jackets to throw on when the night chill came in after the sun went down.

Will ran his hand over the inside wall of the rock and traced his finger over the question mark engraved into it. Claire’s voice came to him as if he’d been talking to her yesterday.

‘You know what I don’t get, Will, is why everyone thinks I need to be doing something.’ Claire had been sitting in his chair attacking the rock face with a pen knife they’d kept in a special hiding place.

‘I don’t think you need to do anything,’ he’d replied.

‘I know, but that’s you. Dad keeps harping on about me going to uni and doing teaching or something. Says I can’t just hang around the farm helping him out between my shifts at the shop.’ She’d sighed and tucked her blonde hair back behind her ear. It was something she did a lot when she was deep in thought. ‘What to do … what to do? That’s the question.’ She’d dug the knife in harder as she dotted the question mark.

‘Well, what do you want to do, Claire Bear?’

She’d swung around to face him, knife in hand, and pulled a face that resembled someone who’d just eaten a handful of nuts, then remembered they were allergic. ‘Buggered if I bloody know. Izzy’s younger than me and she’s already got her mind set. She’s got this drive that I seem to be lacking. I’m just happy enjoying life at the moment. I’ll be an old fart soon enough. May as well have fun while I can.’

‘Hear, hear. I’ll second that.’ Will had taken a swig from his beer.

Little did they know it, but that afternoon had marked the last of their carefree life. Nearly eight weeks later, they’d met back at the rock, their friendship strained to breaking point. They’d had their share of spats over the years, but they’d always been able to mend them over a beer. This problem Will hadn’t been able to fix, even with a carton of beer. Hell, he hadn’t even known what the problem was.

‘Are you going to explain any of this to me?’ he’d demanded.

Claire had sat with her knees pulled in to her chest, her arms wrapped around them with her head resting on top. Her hair had fallen across her face like a protective blind.

‘You’re the one who wanted to meet, Claire.’ He’d brushed her hair back from her face, exposing big blue eyes on the verge of tears. Her face had paled over the last few weeks and she looked so fragile. It worried him to see her like this. Claire was the guts and wit in their friendship, and he’d been missing that more than he could say. ‘Tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t talked to me for weeks. That’s never happened to us before, Claire. Come on. I’ve never told anyone about your crush on Linda’s boyfriend,’ he finished, trying to guess what this mood stemmed from.

‘It’s not that, Will,’ Claire had sighed. ‘If only.’

Her voice had been a whisper.

‘Is this because of what happened after the party … where … you know. I thought we’d agreed it was a big mistake? I mean, even you said it was like doing it with your brother.’ Claire smiled at his comment, and for a moment he’d thought she was back, until the flood of tears had followed.

‘Shit, Claire. Is it really that bad?’

Once she had sniffed back her tears and wiped the rest away with her sleeve, she’d taken a big breath. ‘Will … you’re my best mate and I can’t bear the thought of things changing between us. But we’ve stuffed things up big time. I know I’ve been giving you the cold shoulder —’

‘You mean the large ice glacier? That’s nothing I can’t handle! Give me an ice pick the size of a crowbar and I’ll chip it away,’ he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Claire’s sweet laughter had echoed around the rock and he held on to that memory. ‘I’m sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to shut you out, but I couldn’t come running to you this time.’

‘Come on, Claire. Get it off your chest.’

And she had. She’d told him straight out and it had left him numb. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Sometimes that moment seemed like so long ago, like a faded dream he’d nearly forgotten. But being back here brought the memories alive again. And now here he was again, in a different predicament with another Simpson girl. He was finding it hard to go about life without Izzy. Everything seemed so mundane – like she’d left and taken the sunlight with her. Every day he welcomed the long hours of work he did between both farms, keeping his mind busy. But some days just weren’t busy enough, and he was tormented by the questions that wouldn’t leave him alone. Where was she? And why hadn’t she called? Did he really mean that little to her?

Leaning back in his chair, he let memories of Claire flood back. He wondered what she’d have to say about her sister. She’d always given it to him directly.

The evening air was cooling rapidly and he was nearly out of beer. It was time to head home and check the answering machine, again.

IZZY slept like a dead dog and woke re-energised. She now had a job and was eager to start. Not wanting to be late on her first day, she was up at five. She managed to find herself some breakfast – she’d been told to help herself to anything, as it was all included in her wage. After eating, she tidied up the kitchen and then went for a walk around the sheds. When she got back, Blake was in the kitchen with just his work pants on, making himself a cuppa.

‘Morning, sunshine. What’d you do? Wet the bed?’ he asked.

‘Nah, just wanted to be organised. I’ve checked out the machinery and am getting myself familiar with everything. Simone not awake yet?’

‘No, she won’t be up for another hour or so. She needs her beauty sleep and I’ve found it best not to disturb her. Do you want a cuppa?’ he asked.

‘No, thanks. I had one earlier.’ Izzy tapped her fingers on the kitchen bench. ‘So, what’s the plan for today?’

‘Well … we’re just getting the tractors ready so we can start working back tomorrow. Make the most of the moist soil from the rain we had.’ Blake raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re an eager bloody beaver, aren’t you?’

‘Just want to impress your dad so he doesn’t let me go at the end of the week. Plus it’ll be nice to have something else to occupy my thoughts. How long you gonna be?’ Izzy placed her hands on her hips.

Blake was still jiggling his tea bag in his cup. ‘Ten minutes. I’ll meet you up at the workshop if you like. We’re working on the Case tractor that’s parked there.’

‘Righto, I’ll see you there then.’ Izzy put on her cap and headed out the door. She felt good. Nothing frustrated her more than sitting around twiddling her thumbs. She’d done enough of that these last few days.

As it turned out, Izzy ended up seeing Alan before she saw Blake. So much for him only being ten minutes. Alan had a walk that went from side to side, almost like a gorilla, and she smiled when she realised Blake did exactly the same thing. His workboots scuffed the ground as he approached. The jeans and short-sleeved shirt he wore were clean and ironed to perfection. The MacDougalls clearly took great pride in their appearance. Maybe she could take a leaf out of their book.

Alan rumbled as he walked towards her. ‘An early bird, are you? Where’s Blake?’

Izzy stopped sweeping the concrete and rested an elbow on the broom she’d commandeered. ‘He’ll be here shortly. He said we’d be working on the Case today, so I thought I’d clean up the workshop before we got started.’

Alan nodded and continued past her, but it didn’t mean that her eagerness or the thorough job she’d done had escaped his eye.

Izzy bent down and patted the dog that had bounded up to her. ‘Hi, Suzie.’ Quickly she gave the dog a scratch before getting back to work.

Alan started a red truck that was parked in the corner of the shed, fiddled around for a bit before finally coming back to speak to Izzy.

‘I can’t wait around for Blake any longer. Let him know I’m taking the truck into town to get the gearbox seen to. I’ll probably be gone most of the day. Can you tell him that I want the Case serviced and I’d like the bar hooked up and the points checked?’ He gestured towards the wall. ‘There are new points in that box – that’s if you get that far. Think you can remember that?’