CLUNK, clunk, clunk
went Lara’s chair as she rocked back and forth. No other sounds could be heard inside the house and she felt abandoned. Lara stared at the opposite wall as she rocked, tapping her toe against the floor to keep up her momentum. She was on her own and couldn’t decide whether she was scared or elated. She already missed Noah, but she was also ready to go this next stage on her own. Part of her wanted to prove to herself and to Noah that she was capable. Another part wanted to prove old man Sinclair wrong – and wipe that disapproving look from Jack’s eyes.
Her phone rang and she jumped before picking it up.
‘Hey, Lara. How are ya, farm girl?’
‘Mel! I was going to call you later. How are you?’
‘I’m good. How’s Noah? Has he left yet?’
‘Yep. Half an hour ago.’
‘Oh, darn it. I was hoping to say goodbye,’ said Mel.
Lara laughed softly as she pictured Mel’s disappointed face, dimpled in a pout.
‘So, how do you like having the place to yourself?’ Mel asked.
‘It’s awfully quiet. Made worse knowing he’s gone, I guess. I was enjoying spending time with him.’
‘Hmm, I would have too,’ said Mel. ‘But you’re not alone. You have thousands of sheep, two dogs, chooks and all that wildlife.’
‘Thank you for that.’ Lara pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. ‘Why don’t you come out here so I have some human company?’
‘Ooh, I’d love to. I’ve already booked a date for March. Will that be okay?’
‘Sure. You can come any time. You might get put to work, though.’ Lara began rocking the chair again.
‘Ah, no sweat. I’d love to. I’ll go feed me some sheep and wrangle a cow.’
‘We don’t have cows, but a neighbour up the road does if that’s what takes your fancy,’ Lara said, chuckling.
‘Smart arse,’ Mel scoffed. ‘Well, it’s a date, then. I’ll be up in March. I’m so excited.’
Mel began filling her in on the latest gossip, which wasn’t a lot. ‘Anna’s still busy being a mum, especially with Chloe starting soccer. Darcy cut his head on the dining table last week and had two stitches, and Chloe surprised them all by downloading a new app on Paul’s phone while she was supposed to be playing a game. My brother’s just as juvenile as ever. He’ll get fired if he keeps arriving to work late and smelling like a bloody brewery all the time! Oh, and Nic hasn’t called me again. It was just that one time. He knows your house is sold and you don’t work at your old job, and neither of us girls will tell him where you are so he’s outta your life for good.’
‘Thanks, Mel. I’ve purged Nic from my mind already.’
‘Who needs Nic when you have your own Jack next door?’
‘Mel, as good-looking as Jack is, he’s not worth the effort. No men, remember?’
‘But how do you restrain yourself?’
Lara rolled her eyes. ‘It’s easy. The guy has the emotions of a brick.’
‘You mean he’s far too good-looking to be normal. Bloody typical. He’s probably a total arsehole, then?’
Lara didn’t reply. Surely, he couldn’t really be like that? He was Noah’s mate and best man for his wedding, after all.
‘Hey, Lara, I gotta go! My brother wants his lunch and it’s my turn.’
‘Yeah, I need to have lunch too and then go cart some water.’
‘That sounds like fun.’
‘It’s nearly forty degrees outside and I’ll be in a crappy old truck with no aircon, other than the windows, which let in the dust,’ said Lara with a dramatic sigh.
‘Don’t tell me you’re missing that air-conditioned office?’ Mel said, laughing.
Lara wasn’t. She really wasn’t.
‘I’ll drop you an email tonight with the dates I’m visiting. All right, Larz, I’ll talk to you soon.’
‘Cheers, Mel, that would be great. I’ll put them in my diary. Catch ya soon. Bye.’
Lara got up to find her camera. Hearing about Chloe and Darcy made her miss them terribly. She was going to send them photos of her dogs. And maybe even a kangaroo.
An hour later, wearing her cap and boots, Lara left the house and drove to the shed, where the old Ford D-Series sat quietly like an old man left to his thoughts. Luckily for Lara, her dad had encouraged her to go for her truck licence a year after getting her car licence. He’d said it would always come in handy on the farm, but she’d never needed it until today. She smiled. Maybe her dad had known something she hadn’t back then. She helped both dogs into the truck.
‘There ya go, boys.’
The whole cab moved slightly as she stepped on the tyre, lifted herself in, and started the truck. Black diesel smoke swirled through the shed as the engine idled noisily. The metal door clanged as she slammed it shut. She set out towards the stand-pipe, grating gears as she went, trying to get the revs right. The first T-intersection approached and she relied on her brakes far too much as she tried to change gears. She nearly threw herself and the dogs through the front window with her brake work and ended up stalling.
Cursing, she started the truck again and adjusted her legs, which were sweaty and sticking to the torn vinyl seat. Her window was already down so she stuck her hand out into the air rushing past. Dippa was staring at her as his body bounced with the truck. She could just imagine what he was thinking.
‘No, I don’t know what I’m doing, mate,’ she said.
They went over a hole in the road and the truck lurched. Lara tightened her grip on the big steering wheel. As her heart settled down she glanced around the inside of the truck and shook her head. It hadn’t changed since she’d been in it last time, right down
to the crack in the front windscreen. The old two-way radio had been replaced with a newer one, though, which displayed a red number twelve, their radio number.
It took ten minutes to reach the standpipe. Luckily no other farmers were there to watch her bumble her way around like an idiot. She parked close to the stand before getting out and inserting the hose in the tank on the back of the truck. She stood by the standpipe and put her hands up to the large tap.
‘Okay.’ She gripped the tap and turned. Nothing happened. Lara clenched her teeth and almost grunted as she tried harder. The tap finally gave way under her pressure.
It took nearly twenty minutes of waiting for the tank to fill. Back home, she parked near the house tank and put the pump hose in the top.
‘See, Dippa. I can handle this.’
She wiped her hands on her shorts and walked to the old Honda motor next to the tank on the truck. It looked ancient and was covered in oil and dust. She didn’t have faith in its ability to start, but Noah had assured her it ran like clockwork. ‘Bit of choke and pull the rope,’ he’d said. Well, that seemed easy enough. The first time she pulled it, she was too gentle and it jerked her arm to a painful stop. It took three more goes before she got it to kick over, but it quickly died.
‘Crap.’
Lara wrapped her hand around the handle on the end of the rope. She tensed her muscles and pulled the rope with all her might. It finally kicked over and began to blow smoke as it idled.
‘Yes!’ she yelled, jumping up and down. She danced a little jig
on the spot when she heard the water pumping through the hose. Hallelujah – she had just successfully delivered her first load of water. Maybe this farming business wouldn’t be so hard after all.
At the end of the day, Lara parked the truck back in the shed, the smell of burning oil through the cab, the engine ticking as it cooled. She slammed the heavy door shut, thanking her lucky stars she was still alive and now felt confident driving the old girl.
Dippa started barking. A vehicle was coming up the driveway, spreading a trail of dust behind it. A well-used white ute – could be anyone in town. It meandered along towards the shed, narrowly missing the old tyres piled up outside. It was splashed with rust and had dents in the side panels and back tray. Lara was surprised to see a little old lady behind the wheel. She strained her eyes against the glow of the sun.
‘Mrs Smith?’ Wow. She hadn’t changed a whole lot from the last time Lara had seen her, which must have been at her parents’ funeral. She smiled automatically and stood up to greet the sprightly eighty-year-old, who wore a cream cotton shirt tucked into brown slacks and carried a tray.
‘Don’t you start that nonsense, young girl. My name’s Marge, so don’t be afraid to use it.’
Lara smiled. Marge’s tone was harsh but the light in her hazel eyes was full of love and laughter.
‘Here you go, little miss. A small welcome-home treat. Sorry I haven’t been over sooner but I’ve been busy keeping my garden alive in this heat.’ Marge handed over the tray of caramel slice and
a fresh loaf of bread wrapped in brown paper, and pulled Lara down for a hug and a kiss. Marge smelled like lavender, starch and a hint of mothballs.
‘Thank you. You didn’t have to.’
‘Had plenty to spare. There’s a cake on its way from Trish. I met her in the shop and she’s planning to drop that by tomorrow. We didn’t want to crowd you. You’re probably still trying to find your feet, I dare say.’
Lara motioned to a crate and they both sat down.
‘Oh, would you like a beer, Marge? Sorry, it’s all I’ve got at the moment.’
‘Oh, yes, that will suit me fine. You don’t survive to my age without something strong to kick you along.’
Lara couldn’t keep the smile from her mouth as she fetched them a beer. ‘And as for your earlier question, yes, I think it’ll take a while for me to get the hang of things.’ Lara sighed.
‘Well, I’m darn proud of you, coming back to try to keep the farm in the family and doing it on your own.’ Marge looked towards the setting sun wistfully. The light against her skin gave her a sepia glow, like in an old photograph. ‘It wasn’t the done thing back in my day, and I had to fight tooth and nail just to help out,’ she continued. ‘After my husband passed away, I thought I could get away with a bit more, but now my son won’t let me as he thinks I’m too old and frail. But I’ve got my grandson Trent on my side, and he lets me do a few things. He likes to humour an old woman.’ Marge gave her a wink.
‘Ah, Trent. I haven’t seen him in … God, I don’t know how many years.’
‘He hasn’t changed much. Still a cheeky devil,’ Marge said proudly.
‘Well, he must love you lots. So you’re still living on the farm, then?’
‘Of course.’ She nodded, causing her grey curls to shake. ‘It’s been my home for the last sixty years and I have no desire to leave. I’ll die before I get put in one of those homes. At least out here I have things to keep my mind ticking over. Keeps me young and I like having the family around.’ Marge nodded to the tray. ‘Go on – get stuck into them. You’re going to need to keep your strength up.’
Lara didn’t argue. She peeled back the cling wrap to take out a chunk of slice.
‘Hmm, it’s great,’ she said through her mouthful. Marge rewarded her with a smile. The bread brought back Lara’s earliest memories of fresh bread being delivered on the goods train. Wrapped up in brown paper with their names on little tags, the loaves would be left in the goods shed. But that all stopped when she was about eight and the goods shed was sold to a local farmer.
‘Any time you need anything, just give me a call. I like to cook and keep busy.’
‘Well, I might take you up on that, Marge. Thank you so much.’ Lara smiled.
‘So, dear, how’s everything going so far? Have you had time to get out into the community?’
Lara sucked the last of the chocolate and caramel from her teeth before she spoke. ‘No, not yet I haven’t. So much stuff to do here and at night I’m trying to sort through book work.’
‘That’s no good. A good-looking young girl like yourself should
be out and about with friends. I’ll get Trent to take you into the pub for a meal.’
‘Oh, okay,’ Lara said, hoping Marge might forget. ‘That’d be nice.’ Lara could only remember Trent as a teenager, but he was nice enough back then. He was right into motorbikes and anything else that moved.
‘Good. The locals will be dying to see you again. The town is buzzing with talk of you being back.’
Lara tried to hide her involuntary eye roll from Marge.
‘How does sometime this week sound, maybe Friday? I’ll let Trent know to come and pick you up, shall I?’
Lara almost choked on her beer and wondered whether Marge was trying to set her up with her grandson. ‘Um, sure. Why not?’ She really couldn’t say no to Marge, especially when the old lady looked so eager.
Marge clapped her hands. ‘Great. Well, I’ll let you go, love, but I’ll pop over and keep tabs on you. Make sure you’re doing okay. I bet you’re more than capable, but a farm’s a dangerous place, especially when you’re on your own.’
‘Yes, Marge.’
Lara watched her rise gently, her face wrinkled and covered in sunspots from the years of living on the land. Lara started to get up before Marge waved her back down.
‘I can see myself off, dear. It’s good to have you home, Lara,’ Marge said softly as her eyes drank her in. ‘You’ve turned into such a beautiful woman, and I’m sure your parents would be ever so proud of you.’
The sincerity in Marge’s voice brought a lump to Lara’s throat.
All she could do was smile and nod before Marge turned and headed to her ute. She was eyeing off another slice when she heard a crunching of tin and looked up to see that Marge had reversed into the shed before trying to turn around. That explained all the dents, she thought. Then she started laughing and laughing.
EARLY the next morning Lara found a box of tapes under her bed and put Roxette into the old cassette player on the study desk. Amazingly, it still worked, so she turned it up as loud as the old boom box would go before getting her breakfast. Back in the city, she’d done this most mornings with MTV, but there was no Foxtel in this house.
On her way out to feed the sheep, Lara ran her fingers along the wall until she reached her parents’ door and held her hand there. Their room was like a temple. Neither Noah nor Lara had found it in themselves to step over the threshold, and today was no different. With a sigh, Lara continued down the hall, then pushed open the flywire door and headed outside to put on her boots.
‘Hey, Dippa. Hey, Roy. How’re you boys today?’ Lara scratched their ears as they sat obediently. ‘You want to come feed sheep with me?’
Still they sat, tongues twitching out their mouths as they panted
in the morning heat. She walked to the gate and they followed at her heels.
‘Guess that’s a yes.’
Taking pity on the dogs in this heat, she let them ride up front with her. She’d gone with Noah before to feed the sheep. How hard could it be to fill up the sheep feeder, drive around paddocks and put down a line of grain? Plus she still had her trusty stopwatch in the ute, ready for use.
It was her first time and she had three thousand head of sheep to feed, so it took her nearly all day. She was still getting used to where the paddock gates were. After lunch, she got disorientated and had to drive around before she could remember where she’d driven into the paddock. No wonder it was taking her so much longer than Noah to do a simple thing like feeding sheep. At least by doing this over and over all day she was becoming much more familiar with it and getting used to how much grain needed to go out for each mob of sheep.
At four o’clock in the afternoon, Lara noticed the ute was driving awkwardly. ‘Something funny’s going on here, boys,’ she said to the dogs as she braked slowly. ‘What do you think’s up?’ She left the ute running with the aircon on for the dogs and walked around it. ‘Oh, shit.’ The back left tyre was as flat as a sheet of steel. A chunk of rubber was hanging out and it looked like she’d driven over something.
‘Just what I need.’ She looked around: nothing but bare paddocks shimmering with a heat haze; the shed was miles away. ‘Damn it.’ She threw her arms up in anger, and resisted the urge to stamp her feet like a two-year-old.
‘Okay.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Calm down and think. I’ve changed tyres before.’ When I was a kid, though, she thought as the self-doubt began to invade her mind.
‘No, I can do this.’ She walked to the back of the ute and looked under the tray. ‘One spare tyre? Check.’ Then she searched in the toolbox and found the wheel spanner. A chunky jack sat in the corner of the tray, so she picked that up too. ‘Bloody hell,’ she cursed at its weight.
It took her half an hour just to get the spare tyre off its holder. When she finally managed to jack up the ute, she tried to take the nuts off but the whole tyre turned. That’s when she remembered that the tyre had to be on the ground to undo the nuts. Frustrated, she sat in the ute for a few minutes to cool off. She wasn’t used to having sweat drip off her like she was taking a shower. Ugh! Her clothes were damp too, making her even more uncomfortable. And to make things worse, a warm afternoon breeze had picked up and was blowing dust into her eyes with each gust.
‘You dogs have got it good.’ She glared at them as they sat, puffing, in the cool air. She looked at the temperature gauge, which was getting high. ‘Hmm, maybe a few more minutes and then I’ll turn it off.’
With a groan, she evacuated the cool ute and faced the flat tyre again. She connected the wheel spanner and attempted to undo a nut. It wouldn’t budge. She tried them all, with the same result. Lara took a deep breath and pushed so hard that she worried about bursting a blood vessel. Anger bubbled away as she realised the nuts would never move.
‘How the hell am I going to run a farm when I can’t even change
a bloody tyre!’ She kicked the wheel in frustration but the wheel spanner connected with her shin, and pain shot up her leg like fire ants under her skin.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ She ripped off the spanner and threw it down with as much force as possible. It didn’t make her feel any better. Instead she burst into tears and crumpled to the ground.
After allowing herself to wallow in self-pity for a while, she wiped away the last of her tears, rubbed the bruising lump on her shin one last time and forced herself to stand. The heat was still uncomfortable and she risked a glance at the bright sun. Even the sheep had wandered towards whatever trees they could find for shade relief. What she wouldn’t kill for a cool breeze.
‘There has to be another way,’ she said, then wondered whether talking to yourself was what country people did so they didn’t feel so alone. Or maybe it truly was a sign of madness. Right at this moment, she didn’t doubt that. She leant over the tray and fossicked around in the toolbox. There had to be something she could use. Her fingers curled around a two-foot bit of metal tube.
She slid it over one end of the cross-shaped wheel spanner and pushed. With the extended lever, the nut gradually began to budge. She would have jumped up and squealed if she’d had the energy. The next nut wasn’t as obliging but she tried using her foot and her body weight on the tube.
‘Yeah, baby. Take that.’
Soon she had pulled off the flat tyre, put the new one on and tightened the nuts back up before chucking the flat on the back of the ute. Her arms were just about screaming in agony by the time
she’d finished. She rubbed them as she got back into the ute. Both dogs glanced at her and continued to pant.
‘Fat lot of help you two are. Next time it’s your turn to change the tyre and I get to sit in the ute.’
At the shed, Lara unhitched the sheep feeder and felt quite proud that she’d mastered this part. As she walked back to the ute she saw a loose nut on the tyre she’d just changed.
‘Oh, shit.’
She reached down and found she could turn two by hand. Now, that wasn’t supposed to happen. For a second time she got the wheel spanner out, retightened the nuts and made sure she used all her strength to do them up. She hated to think what might have happened if the wheel had come off.
By this stage it was well and truly drinks time. She parked at the shed and the dogs barged past her as she headed to the beer fridge. She took a brown milk crate to the edge of the shed, just like her dad had always done so he could watch the sunset. Dippa lay down next to her foot and she scratched his head.
From the mouth of the shed, she could see out over the nearest paddock, which fell back towards the horizon. Lara couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a sunset, let alone from this spot in the shed. It would have been when she was a kid, with her dad. Her heart ached for her parents; she wished they were beside her watching this one. She hoped they were still watching sunsets, together, wherever they were.
The deep golden glow spread across the land, the trunks and leaves of the trees shimmering like they were tipped in gold. Lara could feel a coolness in the breeze as the shadows stretched across
the dry earth like ghostly figures.
‘Now, this is living,’ she said softly and sipped her beer, her horrid misadventure with the flat tyre forgotten. She could hear the pink and grey galahs squawking in the nearby tree, as the wind rippled through its branches.