Authors: Lynne Wilding
She was bewildered by his reaction; she had expected doubts even anger, not dismissal. ‘I … thought you’d be pleased. You can have Amaroo. It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?’
‘At the expense of turfing my brother and his family out?’ He shook his head. ‘What kind of monster do you think I am?’
Confused, she blinked owlishly at him, unable to believe that he couldn’t see what he was on the brink of. ‘B-but you will talk to Diane, and Hilary, won’t you?’
He turned on his heel away from her, his answer coming in a half growl. ‘Yes, damn it, I’ll check it out. But don’t expect me to thank you for the information. In one fell swoop you’ve effectively made my mother an adulteress and my uncle an adulterer, my brother a bastard and me the worst
bastard of all if I take advantage of what might be the truth.’
Nova watched him stalk towards the stone cottage, his spine stiff with anger. Her cheeks were coloured spots of embarrassment and no small amount of disappointment.
So, it hasn’t quite gone to plan
, the voice soothed.
Curtis is angry with you now, but that will pass
. Yes, it’s the shock of it, she assured herself. He needs time to absorb the consequences of Bren’s illegitimacy and what that means. Then … then he will thank me and see what a wonderful team we will make.
She touched the tic at the side of her mouth and frowned. Damned, uncontrollable thing. It was beating double time, and she didn’t need a mirror to know that it made her look as if she had a peculiar, lopsided smile. Curtis would be indebted, she strove to re-affirm her belief, because she had played her hand and now she had to wait until he acted. She bit her lip as a wave of anxiety stiffened her muscles. And, of course he would …
Dinner that evening in Amaroo’s roomy kitchen with its long, refectory timber table was, as usual, a noisy affair with everyone who worked on the station present. But two, Nova and Curtis, only paid lip-service and barely contributed to the conversation. Curtis wore an expression of preoccupation, as if he had his mind on other things, which he did, and Nova said little but she watched everyone … and listened.
‘Tomorrow, I’ve an architect and a builder coming from Darwin to discuss the home-stay
accommodation scheme. They’ll be arriving about 9.30,’ Bren informed everyone, and his smile implied that he was inordinately pleased with himself.
‘Isn’t that premature? The loan hasn’t been approved yet,’ Vanessa, who’d said her piece several times as to her opinion on the project but had deferred to Bren because the property was solely his, asked. The truth of that and him reminding her of that fact had left a bitter taste in her mouth especially when she knew that she had contributed mightily and financially to Amaroo’s well-being over the years of their marriage. They were often ‘at each other’ these days and she could see no end to it … because the chasm between them was widening, almost on a daily basis.
‘I don’t think so,’ Bren responded testily. ‘They’ve given me a rough estimate but I need to finetune the details to get a firm cost.’
Curtis, more often than not undiplomatic, put his knife and fork together noisily on the half-eaten plate of food, and then stood up. ‘Don’t expect me to squire them around or keep them entertained. I’ll be off at first light to Lauren’s.’
‘Okay, but take the chopper, will you. I might need the Cessna,’ Bren said accommodatingly.
Curtis looked at Regan and forestalled her question. ‘No, love, you can’t come this time. It’s purely business.’ He gave a little salute with his index finger to those at the table. ‘Goodnight everyone.’
Fran gave him a peculiar look and followed up with, ‘What, not waiting for dessert?’
Curtis’s gaze swept the table, resting for a few seconds on Vanessa, who was trying to get Kyle to eat his vegetables, and finishing at Nova. ‘Not tonight, no appetite for sweets. Don’t forget to do your homework, Regan,’ he reminded his daughter as he strode towards the kitchen’s back door and disappeared into the night.
‘He’s in a mood,’ Bren muttered dismissively, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Vanessa’s expression was thoughtful as she stared at the empty kitchen doorway. ‘It’s not like him to be quite so … abrupt. Perhaps he isn’t well.’
‘We did a lot of work today, hard yakka, most of it. He’s probably just pooped,’ Nova made the excuse to Vanessa.
What a bitch! Making out that she’s concerned about her brother-in-law. Playing a role. Oh, yes, she’s good at that
. The muscles in Nova’s stomach tightened as she recalled Curtis’s parting glance at
her
nemesis. What was she to make of it? Did he have deep feelings for the bitch or was it more a case of non-sexual male admiration? Well, she attempted to comfort herself, that didn’t matter. Neither of them would have to look at her or Bren and Kyle for much longer. When Curtis assumed his rightful position
they’d
make it clear that Bren and his family were not welcome on Amaroo.
That would really put Vanessa out, having to leave and start all over again somewhere else
. Nova stared at the actress’s trim again figure. Pity about losing the baby. She had received lots of sympathy but, apparently, not much from Bren. She’d overheard Fran telling her dad that Bren hadn’t been
pleased about them having another kid. Just as well the miscarriage had happened naturally or something might have had to be done to … kind of encourage Vanessa to believe Amaroo wasn’t a safe place for her to be for long periods of time. She didn’t have to worry about Vanessa anymore though. When Curtis claimed what was his and they were together … the actress would become no more than an unpleasant memory …
Curtis Selby was not a happy man. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever being as miserable as he was at this moment, not even when Georgia declared their marriage over. Sitting in an armchair, the phone cradled in his lap, he held onto the receiver after having disconnected the line from Diane in Broome.
Shit. Shit. Shit! Resting back on the chair’s material, his head shook from side to side as he tried to deny what Diane’s confirmation of Nova’s story meant. No longer could he discount it as the venom of a jealous, two-timed wife. He had something even more unpleasant to do now — talk to his mother. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it was sandwiched between the book-crowded shelves — she would still be up but … it could wait till morning, couldn’t it? No, Hilary liked to sleep in and he was leaving for Lauren’s at sunrise. And … it would be better to have their ‘talk’ before Regan came in for the night.
Hell’s bells, what a predicament. He shut his eyes for a moment or two, squeezing back a threatening moistness. His upper lip curled derisively and he
blinked the moisture away. Outback men didn’t cry. Be it surviving on the land or personally, they took whatever was dished out on the chin and got on with life. What a load of bullkaaka that was!
His world as he knew it had been turned upside down by Nova’s revelations. So far he hadn’t bothered to analyse the reasoning behind her tale, there would be time for that later. Maybe he’d make a cup of coffee before he called. No, a whisky would be better. He shook his head. You’re procrastinating, my lad. Get it over with. He stared at the phone and began to dial the Darwin phone number, but stopped half way through. Christ, how could he baldly ask the questions he had to ask over the phone? The phone was too cold a medium, too impersonal. He had to front his mother and ask her face to face. Yes, that’s what he had to do. Damn, that meant a trip to Darwin. He’d call Lauren and tell her there had been a change of plans, and leave a note on the kitchen noticeboard telling everyone he was going to Darwin.
His throat tightened and he could hardly swallow at the thought of confronting Hilary. He was concerned by how she would react but, it had to be done, and no matter how unpleasant the answers might be, he had to know …
Next morning Bren and Vanessa read Curtis’s note on the kitchen noticeboard, about going to see Hilary instead of heading for Cadogan’s Run.
‘Wonder what he wants to see dear old Mum about?’ Bren asked idly as he sat at the table, ready for breakfast.
Nova, sitting between Regan and Kyle, didn’t bother to disguise her boredom. She smiled and said nothing.
‘He probably just needs a break,’ Vanessa said, but she was frowning. Curtis had been acting strangely since his return after the fight with Bren. Clearly something was on his mind but, as was typical with the Selby men, they only discussed what and when they wanted to. Obviously he didn’t want to.
‘Maybe. He chose not to be around when the architect and builder arrive. Curtis can be a stubborn bastard at times.’
Vanessa gave him a hard-eyed stare, clearly unimpressed by his criticism. ‘And you’re not?’
Bren shrugged. ‘What can I say, it’s a Selby trait.’ His previously genial expression became serious. ‘You are with me on this development, aren’t you?’
Vanessa heard the anxious note in his voice. She spent so much time re-assuring him, bolstering his confidence. ‘You know my reservations but, if it can be done economically …’ She didn’t finish the sentence, instead she changed the subject. ‘With the new breeding program only half complete and you know that more bores need to be sunk, finances are tight.’ In spite of her low enthusiasm she dredged up a softening smile. ‘Fabian told you that. My only proviso is that the development shouldn’t run us too deeply into the red. Red, on an accounts ledger, is not my favourite colour.’
Since Bren had first talked about the project she had given a lot of thought to the advantage of Bren being involved in something he was passionate about because it made him easier to live with.
Which was why she hadn’t strenuously objected, as Curtis had. Bren was Bren and what was becoming more obvious was that when he wanted his own way regarding something, that was all he could focus on,
his
goal, with little concern for commonsense, money or reality.
‘So, Fran, what are you going to give our guests for lunch?’ Bren asked as Fran emerged from the homestead’s room-size pantry.
‘Don’t expect
haute
cuisine from me, Bren Selby, that’s not my style. Your guests will get a platter of cold cuts, fresh potato salad, a bowl of salad greens and dessert followed by cheese and crackers.’
‘That sounds just right; it’s going to be a hot one today,’ Vanessa said as she wiped her brow. The overhead fans in the kitchen were rotating though it was still early in the morning. She moved about the kitchen, clearing the table while Nova sat and did nothing. Afterwards, she checked the week’s mail — a dozen letters of varying sizes sat on the kitchen dresser that housed the crockery and cutlery. There was a letter and contract from Kerri for her role in
North of the Nullarbor
, plus a note that the film’s producer, Heather Clarry, would fax a list of preferred shoot locations on Amaroo to her in a couple of days.
She slit open an envelope and pulled out a brochure that advertised a new type of electricity for remote stations, using solar panels to generate power. Interesting. They should look into that, she decided as she tucked the paper into the pocket of her loose, floral skirt. Perhaps she would ask the visiting architect a question or two about its possibilities.
Glancing at the kitchen clock, Vanessa saw that it was almost time for school. ‘Kids, School of the Air starts in two minutes,’ she said to Regan and Kyle. ‘You should be in the schoolroom.’
Regan, an eager student, jumped out of her chair straight away, but Kyle’s scowl reminded her of Bren. He was still grappling with the concept of learning and having to do ‘work’. Vanessa knew he would rather be out helping with the cattle or assisting Reg or Warren with maintenance work around the property — what young boy wouldn’t? She pretended not to see his down-in-the mouth expression for, not only did it make him look like his father, it reinforced the fact that he was like him in many ways. Bren, too, had not had an affinity with the three Rs, so Curtis had once told her.
Thinking about her brother-in-law again, her gaze moved thoughtfully to Nova. There was something different about her. She had changed, again, become more … distant, less friendly. Almost as if she didn’t like her anymore! What nonsense, she scolded herself. But … she couldn’t halt the thought and was unconvinced as to whether she was
using
again. At times Nova appeared sluggish, particularly in the mornings and sometimes she was over-the-top cheerful, as if she were hyped up.
You’re imagining things, she rebuked herself. Nova was all right, she was just too focussed on trying to work her way into Curtis’s heart. And in that respect she admitted to a certain curiosity about the budding romance and if Nova’s strategy of trying to be with him as much as possible, was working. Once she would have asked but this new,
determined, super cool Nova had her thinking twice, and made her decide to remain a silent observer. If Nova wanted to talk about it, she knew where to find her.
Jolting herself out of her analysing mood, she gave Kyle another reminder.
‘Come on, don’t dawdle. Off you go before Miss Franklin gets on the airwaves. You know she has a lot of students to talk to and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ Hiding her smile, she watched Kyle, feet dragging, follow Regan out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the schoolroom.
During the chopper flight to Darwin, which took several hours — not landing till almost midday — Curtis had time to go over what he wanted to say, how he wanted to phrase the questions he felt honour-bound to ask his mother.
As he stood inside the air-conditioned living room, by the windows, waiting for his mother to join him — she was outside giving the gardener instructions as to what was to be planted in a freshly turned garden bed — Curtis had never felt so uncomfortable. Hell’s bells, how do you ask your mother whether she had an affair with her brother-in-law and fell pregnant to him? Even before he asked what he knew he had to, he was steeling himself for her response. There could be anger, disdain or tears. Maybe she would throw all three reactions at him at once. God, it was going to be unpleasant.