‘Rachael, I’ll leave just as soon as I can get my things organised.’
Rachael looked disappointed. Her next words confirmed it. ‘Well, that’s a bit inconvenient. I can’t be driving into town at the drop of a hat, and I just thought it would save me some time.’
Ivy took a deep breath, ‘You know, it was Adam that put me on here. It’s Adam who has to confirm when I’m to go. I’ll try not to inconvenience you if I can help it. Still, if he’s got a broken leg, he’s probably going to need more help, not less.’
‘Well, now I’m back, your help won’t be needed. I did mention that.’ Rachael crossed her arms, hugging her cardigan close to her spare frame. With the summer heat, Ivy wondered how the woman could bear to wear it. The humidity was tracing a damp finger down her own back and yet Rachael was shivering.
‘I’ll talk to Adam just as soon as I can.’
Rachael waved Ivy’s promise away. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I can do it for you. He’s pretty sorry and sore at the moment. He needs to rest up.’
Ivy nodded and turned away, and as she did, she wondered why Adam’s wife was so adamant that she had to go so soon. On second thought, could she blame her?
‘Will you want me to cook dinner tonight?’
‘Absolutely. Something nice if you can. Cheer him up. It’ll take his mind off his leg.’
Once again, Rachael gave Ivy a fleeting smile. It never reached her dark eyes. But then, nor did Ivy’s. Ivy hadn’t changed her first opinion of Rachael O’Rourke. She didn’t like her then. She didn’t like her any better now.
For dinner, there was a heap of beef she could cube up, as well as red and black beans in the cupboard. Chile con carne with an extra good shake of cajun seasoning added to one plate in particular would have given Ivy satisfaction, but it was a mean act and Ivy would do no such thing. Vengeance wasn’t her way. Ivy figured Rachael would get her comeuppance by some other hand. If there was retribution for being nasty, it wasn’t going to be heaped upon Ivy.
Was Adam aware of his wife’s addiction? She couldn’t imagine him being okay with it. But it was no business of hers. Nor was Adam’s young son. Michael’s cute, and often hungry face came to mind. She wondered if he’d like the lemon meringue pie she was planning, if there was any left by the time he came home. Was he ever coming home again?
Ivy had accustomed herself to the idea that she just didn’t have the credentials to be a jillaroo. She’d get used to the fact that a season living on an outback cattle station was out of the question, too. But she was healthy and whole, at least. That was something to be thankful for. It didn’t stop the tears that bubbled up like a hot spring. But she didn’t want Rachael to see her cry; she wouldn’t let Adam see it, either.
Best to stay clear of him, because she knew that good intentions weren’t always as strong as people would like. If she looked into his eyes right then, she wouldn’t be able to hold back her tears of disappointment. Ivy wiped the back of a hand across her cheeks and set to work.
She turned with a start to see Rachael there. She hadn’t heard a sound.
‘What are you going to put in the pastry case?’
‘Lemon.’
‘Too sour for me,’ Rachael replied with a face that said it all.
Ivy swallowed the comment that perched on her tongue, ready for launch. ‘What about Adam?’
‘Oh, he’ll eat anything.’ Rachel said the words as if to insult the man, if not the cook.
‘Well, if it cheers him up then I’ve done as you’ve asked.’ Ivy’s smile was tight.
‘What’s on the stove?’
‘Chilli.’
Rachael opened up the glass lid on the skillet and looked inside.
‘Men love chilli.’ It was as close to a compliment as Rachael would allow, even though she saw Rachael swallow the juices that doubtless welled in her mouth. Yes, it smelled good.
Ivy pinched the edges of pastry dough. It gave against her insistent fingers like the skin of a creamy cheek.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Where’s Ivy?’ Adam looked at Rachael.
‘I dunno. Probably working out flights, I’d say.’
‘She’s what? Why would she do that?’
‘She’s had enough. Told her it’s not too much trouble to take her to the airport.’
‘But she’s here for the summer, at least. She’s the cook!’ Adam felt panic rising. The timbre of his voice climbed a notch. He had to talk to Ivy.
He cursed his broken leg.
Rachael shrugged. ‘If I take her to the airport, I can grab Mickey then. You wanted to see him, after all.’
‘Of course I do. I don’t understand why you took him to Mum’s. Can you call them? Tell him I’ll see him soon? If I could get to the phone I’d do it myself.’
‘My phone’s got no reception out here.’
‘Well, can you call him on the landline, please?’
‘Sure.’
But Adam didn’t think she would. It was the first time he wished they had an upstairs phone. He sighed and tried to get comfortable. He’d be at ease when Rachael left the room.
‘In any case, it’s time for tea. I’ll bring it up to you.’
He’d been bedridden while his leg was bandaged and the fibreglass cast was rolled on. He stared down at the ridiculous appendage, at his toes peeking out. Where had the hours gone? Rest of the day, he supposed, he’d been dozing off and on.
‘You could at least say thank you.’
His eyes fluttered open. ‘It’s fine. I don’t want you to bother about bringing up my tea. Get Ivy. Ask Ivy to do it, thanks. I need to speak with her. Make things clear.’
‘I’m not here to run around after some girl you’ve got on the back burner. You want her, you go and get her.’
‘I’m not exactly jack-be-nimble right now.’
‘Well, whose fault’s that? It’s not mine.’ She lit up a cigarette, opening the casement windows to their widest extent.
‘Can you please not smoke in here? You know I don’t smoke. I’d appreciate if you could respect that.’
Rachael gave him a dark look. She was agitated, he saw, and couldn’t stand still. But she didn’t put the cigarette out. Adam’s fingers drummed against the bed. He wished he’d never taken Lipstick out mustering up the cattle. What he wouldn’t give to be able to move. He needed to see Ivy.
He swatted at smoke that hung just beyond his reach. ‘Why are you still here, anyway?’
‘That’s a nice way to talk to a visitor.’
‘Funny, I can’t remember inviting you here.’
There wasn’t much in the way of bitterness that he felt, any remaining hurt was long gone. It was mere truth. He waited for a response.
‘How much do you need? I’m sure you’re only here for money.’
‘A thousand would do.’
Adam made to sit up in bed. ‘Really? What for?’
‘I owe some money.’ She shrugged it away.
‘I pay child support,’ he reminded her.
‘Child support is for my kid. It doesn’t pay the bills.’
Adam nodded. It was a fair point. When he needed cash, he went into the branch and used the bank in the traditional way. He talked to the teller, got out what he needed, only when he needed it, paid his bills in person, and when anyone mentioned Wi-Fi, BPay or even phone banking, he just shook his head in the negative. And although wisdom told him to turf Rachael out on her ear without a cent, he took in her frail figure, her look of a hunger and although he reckoned she could do with a good meal over a cigarette, he nodded. She was still the mother of his son.
‘Downstairs in the front room. It’s in the drawer of the writing desk. The rest is for bills.’
It was the first time he’d seen her smile in a long time.
‘Thanks.’ She almost skipped from the
room then and it was the last he saw of her for hours. Dusk was falling and Adam’s stomach had been protesting for the last hour when she finally came back.
She waited until he propped himself against the pillows, then handed him a tray.
‘Ivy cooked this?’
‘Well, I assume that’s what you pay her for, isn’t it?’ Rachael pushed the water glass at him. ‘Your tablets are on the bedside.’
Spicy, tender pieces of steak, piled up with beans and gravy. He ate the meat hungrily along with the wall of mashed spuds. He knew Ivy must have pulled the zucchini and corn from the soil perhaps only that day.
Pity his horse hadn’t managed to get into the kitchen garden. They could always have planted more corn. Still, that was then, this was now. Dusty would always remain in his memories. It was Ivy he needed to see now. He needed to talk to her. He could only guess what she thought about Rachael turning up at the house. Maybe he should just yell out for her a few times, and hope she’d hear him.
‘Can you please get Ivy to come up and get the tray in a little while?’
‘Yeah, not a problem.’ Rachael was already half out the door.
‘You going somewhere?’ Adam took in her appearance. She had a busy air, though she was wearing the same jeans and tee shirt as before. She’d made another effort to cover up her skin, but she had aged so much in the last three years.
Rachael shook her head. ‘I’ll let her know you want to speak to her.’ Adam listened to the click as she closed the door.
He galloped through the meal, thinking that even if Ivy had been fit to go riding and mustering, her talent as a cook would be wasted. Rachael was just sour because she could barely boil an egg. But that had been in the early days when she was happy enough to cook him a meal when he came in at the end of a day. It was short lived, and he reckoned it was probably just easier to scramble something up for himself and the men in any case.
Later, Rachael had been happy to live off Arrowroot biscuits and Vegemite on toast. She’d probably taught Michael the same bad eating habits. It was a sad thought. He pushed it away, sweeping the sheet off his leg in frustration.
He gazed out of the window at the coming night. He saw his reflection in the window, but it wasn’t himself—the face he imagined was that of his son. His son as he remembered him, that was. A kid could change a lot in three years, and in all that time, he had not seen his boy once. Salt water stung his eyes and he blinked it away with the self-pity of wasted time, unacknowledged Christmas and birthday presents, and phone calls that never managed to get him connected to Michael.
Kept in his old leather wallet, together with a tiny snap of his once infant son, her phone number had eventually been refolded and stuffed behind the photo for good. The few precious memories that Adam had, he held dear to his heart. With them had been every other regret and the lump of raw emotion that had caught in his throat ever since she had left him.
He blinked, looking out at nothing through the night blackened windows. He flicked images of Michael through his mind like pictures in a photo album—pictures he didn’t have—but they were burned in his being like wishes that had never been granted all the same. They were like sparks that flew up from a campfire, quick and bright, only to disappear, just like Michael had. Now he was so close.
Ivy hadn’t come up to check on him, even though he felt like he waited half the night. He yearned to be close to her, just to have her sit by his side. The only thing stopping him from hobbling from the bed was the Endone that made him nauseous, and so very tired.
Chapter Twenty
Ivy set the phone down in the cradle. That was it. Dream ended. Her jillaroo plans had died with a wife Ivy had never imagined even existed. But there was an available flight and it had Ivy’s name on it. Adam O’Rourke was another matter.
She had exaggerated her prowess with horses to gain a summer start at Capricorn Station, that was true. She knew that lying on paper was every bit as bad as lying to a person’s face, and she was now suffering a strange and cruel punishment for conflating her credentials. She had no one to blame but herself. There was a flight, and she would be on it. And she’d forget the stirrings the cattle station had brewed within her.
If Rachael was willing to take her to the airport, that was one problem fixed. She understood if the woman wanted her gone. She felt ashamed for being so … blonde.
Darned if she was going up to see him in his bedroom. He could keep any money he owed her. When Ivy took her bags downstairs just after dawn, she looked out to see that Rachael’s car was gone. She frowned and set her bags beside the front door. She had several hours to wait for that flight. There was time for coffee, if nothing else. She had no appetite for breakfast that morning. She thought of Michael and smiled. She would have liked to make pikelets one more time. She would have liked the chance to say goodbye properly even more.
Ivy sat out on the verandah with her coffee mug. A haze blanketed the pale grass. Cattle moved quietly by and Ivy wondered who would milk the cows this morning. She had grown to enjoy the morning task and was surprised to admit she’d come to love the cows. Sometimes learning from your own mistakes was tough.
Whether Adam had a broken leg or not, neither he nor his station had anything more to do with her. He was just some arrogant opportunist who thought he was some stallion with the right to flirt with any filly while the mare had been away in other pastures. First the news had surprised Ivy. She could hardly believe it was true. Adam hadn’t seemed like that kind of guy. Just went to show how much she knew about … stallions. She smiled at her own joke. It was like coffee without cream; terrible.
Hard to take.
RJ climbed the stairs to the verandah. ‘What’s for breakfast?’
‘Coffee’s hot.’
‘That it?’ RJ slumped. ‘Mixed grill would have been nice.’
All Ivy could muster was a smile. ‘I think I’ve spoiled you lot.’
RJ rubbed his stomach, gave her a grin.
‘Do you know where Rachael is?’
He shook his head. ‘Nope.’
‘She was going to take me to the airport.’
‘What are you going to the airport for?’
‘I’m heading home, RJ.’
‘You’re kidding? What do you want to go back to that place, for?’
Ivy smiled. ‘I’ll be in Sydney by tonight. But Rachael’s nowhere to be found. Do you think you could take me, RJ?’
‘Course I can. Absolutely. What a bummer though. You’re the best cook this station can remember, far as I’m concerned. But you’re a nice chick, too.’
‘Thanks, RJ, I’ll take that as a compliment I’m sure you meant it to be. But I don’t know that station life is right for me.’
‘Suppose it’s not for everyone,’ he agreed. She guessed they both knew it was for the best.
‘Ready to go now?’
‘Sure am. But you haven’t had breakfast.’
‘All good, I’ll grab something at the airport.’
The trip was a quiet one. Ivy was embarrassed to find she’d slept most of the way there.
‘Not exactly in for the chat, were you?’ RJ pulled in to the carpark.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘Can’t believe Adam’s letting a good sheila like you go.’
Ivy gave him a regretful smile. ‘I don’t think he’ll be disappointed. By the way, tell Michael I left the pikelet recipe on top of the fridge. Maybe you guys will take it out someday.’
‘Humph, I don’t reckon anyone will make them. Not like you do, anyway. How does Adam feel about you leaving?’
Ivy opened her mouth and shut it again promptly. She hadn’t told him, but then, nor had she been paid, so she owed him nothing, not even a goodbye. RJ must have understood, because he didn’t ask again.
Ivy opened the door
of the old red ute that had seen better days. RJ hoisted her saddle, a poignant reminder of Capricorn Station. Ivy turned away, wheeling her suitcase.
‘If you decide to visit the sticks again, Ivy, you know where Capricorn is.’
RJ set down the saddle on the nearest chair. He started to shake her hand, changed his mind, then awkwardly grabbed her in a hug. After he walked away, Ivy looked at the tooled leather of the saddle and sighed. It was a mockery. A reminder of a dream that had no happy ending, but perhaps a couple of good lessons. She couldn’t make herself accepted and wanted by anyone. Especially not by lying her way into a job and pretending she was something she wasn’t. But it still hurt.
The terminal lights of Rockhampton looked jaded. High-vis clad workers yawned, clothing crinkled, faces tired. She was sure that she’d seen a few of these men before. Was it really such a short time ago that she had touched down? The dust of Central Queensland might well rub off her boots, but for Adam to be forgotten, that was going to take a little longer. Experience told her it was better this way, but it didn’t take away the pain.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘You what?’ Adam yelled, pushing himself off the end of the bed.
‘I took Ivy to the airport.’
‘Why didn’t you check with me? I didn’t ask you to do that!’
‘I’m sorry, boss, but I didn’t know she hadn’t talked to you about it. I didn’t ask her what you thought about her leaving until we arrived at the airport. But it’s not for me to say what I think.’
‘You always blurt out whatever you’re thinking!’
‘Not my opinion on your private life, I don’t. You don’t ask about my love life, after all.’
‘You don’t have one!’
RJ stepped back with the sting. ‘It’s not for lack of trying, though.’
‘I had no idea what was happening. I’m stuck up here. I’ve never used crutches in my life, and for the first time since you’ve been at the station, you’ve done something without me having to give the orders! And since when haven’t you let me know what’s going on? Who’s running this show?’
Central to Nowhere Page 9
