The Healing Season

by Catherine Evans

  ‘I don’t know what to do.’ She sounded defeated. Broken.

  ‘Eat,’ he said again.

  ‘We have to send them off tonight.’

  ‘I know. But you need to eat.’

  He picked up her fork and speared some chicken and baby corn before handing it to her. ‘Just a few mouthfuls.’

  She took the fork without commenting. No eye roll. No smile. No tongue poking out. He was worried but she ate four mouthfuls as he ate his meal.

  When he finished, he leaned across towards her. ‘Would you trust me to pick them?’

  She dropped her fork. Her head jerked upright. She stared at him. ‘You’d do that?’

  ‘If you don’t mind, I could.’

  She breathed. And again. Deep sucking breaths. She took a forkful of food. ‘Yes, please. But don’t tell me what you pick.’

  ‘I don’t know how to upload.’

  ‘If you put twenty in a folder on their own, I’ll help you send them off.’ She smiled, a little half-heartedly but it was genuine.

  She ate a few more mouthfuls. He pushed his empty bowl away and studied the images, whittling them down to the best twenty. It wasn’t easy with so many to choose from but he tried to get a good variety of photos. Different scenes. Colour variations. Changing seasons.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ She spoke so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her but when he looked up, her head was tipped to the side and she was staring at him.

  ‘I can see how much you loved Paul and how much this hurts you. How much he loved this place. I’ve never felt like that, ever.’ He sucked in a breath sharply. Why had he said that? Exposed himself to questions. Shown her how horrible and empty his life had been.

  ‘Thank you. For doing this with me. For honouring Paul. For helping me by doing what I can’t.’ She didn’t ask him any questions. She sat and blinked back tears, gulping once before she jumped up and grabbed the dishes.

  He shook. Not just his head. A tremor ran through his whole body. Would he ever know that kind of love? Even though the loss had gutted her, he still wanted to know what loving like that was like.

  Chapter 7

  The shop was decked out in party lights. Paul’s photographs adorned walls lit with bunches of white Christmas lights, pulled out of storage. Alicia couldn’t believe how well Lachlan had chosen. She’d expected to be sad about the pictures he hadn’t chosen but all she could focus on were the twenty he had. Images of different people and places around Dulili, events in town, different times of the day or night. It was a gorgeous mix of photos showcasing both Paul’s skill and the town itself.

  Evelyn and Geoff Mitchell waved. She smiled and headed their way but Patricia Jansen was on the same route. Drat it. Patricia was a journalist, which Alicia had always thought was a great career choice for the girl who had gossiped the most at school. There was no way to avoid her, unless she ignored the Mitchells and she wasn’t doing that.

  Evelyn grabbed her in a hug. ‘Alicia, this is fantastic. I didn’t think you were going to do all this when you spoke to me.’

  ‘Me either.’ She grinned. ‘After Lachlan and I talked, things took off from there.’

  Geoff hugged her next and when she pulled away, she was sure his eyes were glistening. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘I’m off to look at these incredible pictures, coming dear?’

  Before they’d moved more than a step, Patricia caught Alicia’s arm. ‘But Lachlan never met Paul.’ Her gaze was piercing, as if she was trying to find something buried inside Alicia’s mind.

  Alicia turned her attention to Patricia. ‘Does that matter?’

  ‘No. No. I suppose not. It just seems strange.’

  Alicia didn’t find it strange at all. ‘Patricia, we’re showcasing the town and art—why would knowing the artist have to be a factor?’

  ‘Well.’ Patricia flustered, hesitating and stalling as she searched the room or the ceiling for something. ‘Why would he want to promote your last boyfriend?’ It all blurted out in such a rush it took a couple of seconds for Alicia to put spaces between the words.

  Patricia had linked her with Lachlan. Of course. In Patricia’s mind no one could be friends if their sex was different. They couldn’t be work mates, they had to be romantically involved.

  Huffing, despite trying not to, Alicia explained. ‘Lachlan is not my boyfriend. He works here with me and we’re showcasing Paul’s genius with a camera. To help the town.’ The words shot from her mouth. She regretted snapping but it was too late now.

  Patricia grabbed her arm again. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘No, you shouldn’t have. Tonight’s a celebration of Paul and Dulili. Don’t wreck it by making up stories.’ Tonight was difficult enough without people saying stupid things.

  Before Patricia could say anything more, Beatrice, one of the new dollar residents, and Caitlin, the hairdresser, caught her attention. Alicia was ever so pleased to see them. She forced a smile at Patricia but managed a genuine one for Beatrice and Caitlin, then murmured, ‘Have a good night,’ before excusing herself and walking off quickly hoping she looked too busy to chat.

  It took a good few minutes and many deep breaths before her anger eased. Patricia could rile her up like no one else. Ever since primary school. I should be used to her.

  Alicia walked through the store but it was like walking through the town in miniature. Almost everyone was there. The notable omission was her parents but she hadn’t expected them. She was thrilled so many of Paul’s family had come. Some she hadn’t seen since … August. God, I hate thinking about that. Uncle Mike had said he’d pass the invitations around but she hadn’t expected them all. She thought they’d be like her folks, preferring to stay at home where they weren’t faced with memories.

  She greeted Paul’s cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmother, parents, brothers and sister. None lived in Dulili now but most had at some stage or had visited so often they were almost part of the town. It was one warm hug after another. A continuous rush of memories. She tried to blot out the fact that Paul wasn’t there. She focused on the people who were. The people who loved him. People who wanted to celebrate his life, his work, and his achievements. She blinked back the tears that threatened. It was not a night for tears. Not now.

  Carol Smith grabbed her from behind. ‘Liss, congratulations. This is fabulous.’ Alan, her husband, pumped Alicia’s hand. ‘It’s a marvellous tribute. He’d have loved it.’ She grinned at both of them and murmured her thanks. Alicia knew she’d drifted from Carol, yet she was still here for her, helping her celebrate. That was true friendship. Alicia looked around at everything but the photos. She couldn’t look at them right now. Not when Carol was glowing with pride and Alicia’s heart was so choked up with loss and grief competing with happiness and a profound sense of right. She swallowed a lump of emotion and focused on Carol.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ If anyone could distract her it was the Smith’s three adorable terrors.

  ‘We left them at home with Alan’s mum.’ Carol laughed. ‘I couldn’t see them behaving enough to bring them here.’

  ‘It’s not really a kid-friendly event, is it?’ Photographs on a wall weren’t anything kids would be interested in for more than two seconds. Tonight wasn’t for kids. It was about bringing some culture to Dulili, enticing tourists, and looking after the locals.

  Carol grabbed her arm and squeezed. ‘It’s perfect, Liss. Perfect.’ Her smile wobbled just a bit and she looked away. Carol let her go and took Alan’s hand. ‘I won’t say anything else. We’ll let you keep mingling.’

  She and Paul could have been like—

  That thought was shut down so quickly Alicia didn’t even finish it in her mind. Tonight was a celebration, it was not about grief. If she kept telling herself that, maybe it would get easier.

  She wandered through the crowd, greeting people she’d known all her life and accepting more congratulations than she deserved. She hoped Lachlan was receiving as
many accolades.

  The Country Women’s Association ladies passed her with platters of food. There were about a dozen ladies involved in the Dulili branch of the CWA, with the average age being somewhere around the 60 years mark. The younger women who were left in town were often working or running kids around, which stopped them becoming involved. Imelda Wade was one of the stalwarts. Nothing was too much trouble for Imelda. As Alicia passed her, Imelda’s bony hand grabbed her forearm.

  ‘Liss, you have done an outstanding job and your man would be very proud of you, and himself.’ Imelda winked then with a squeeze of her arm she was gone with her tray of nibbles. Alicia blinked quickly. ‘Her man’. Those words still made her heart swell and her stomach flip. Paul would always be her man and she was glad Imelda still thought of him that way.

  Johno and the crew from the pub waved. People gave her a pat on the back as she moved past. Most of the farmers from the district were here with their wives, and their kids who were old enough and weren’t away at school. Town functions brought everyone together. Events like this were an important facet of community, a place where links were made, networking happened, and friendships were forged or reaffirmed. Some of these blokes she’d only seen briefly as they passed through the shop but she’d known them all her life and they were like family.

  Uncle Mike began tapping on the microphone. The crowd quietened and turned to him. No Dulili crowd was ever silent, so there was a gentle murmur, giggling kids, and restless crowd noise.

  ‘Hello, hello. Can you all hear me?’

  A roar greeted the question. A mixture of people saying ‘yes’, others heckling, some murmuring, others clapping. People responded in their own way and that made her smile. Dulili might be small, and everyone knew everyone, and thought they knew your business … but even with that, they were individuals and individuality was allowed, even encouraged. A weird dichotomy that occurred in small towns, more so than in big ones, that she had never worked out.

  ‘I’m Mike Colyden, Paul’s uncle, and Paul Colyden is the artist we’re honouring tonight. Tonight’s about celebrating Paul and his genius. He may have been taken from us way too early but tonight we’re not about grief. This is a celebration.’ Whistles and cheers interrupted him. He waited until the noise died down.

  ‘We’re not asking you to buy Paul’s photos. Tonight, or ever. But if you’d like to, come in and see Alicia or Lachlan any time but no sales tonight. This gallery is all about encouraging tourists to our town. Alicia and Lachlan are going to showcase local talent by displaying art in the store and there’ll be some in the café too. This all ties in with the plan to bring new folks to town. That’s been pretty successful with some of Dulili’s newest residents here tonight. Welcome.’

  There was warm applause along with a smattering of chatter as people commented to, or about, the newcomers. Alicia waved to Daniel and Zara and other members of the dollar scheme, who were over near Evelyn. She couldn’t see Lachlan but wherever he was, she was sure people would acknowledge him.

  When the roar died down, Mike continued.

  ‘I left Dulili years ago but I’m doing my best to support you from afar. Alicia and Lachlan have my complete backing for the Ag Store. And if you need me for anything, I’ll be here. Everyone who has left Dulili, physically, leaves a piece of their heart behind. It doesn’t take much to bring us home.’

  Another cheer and clapping met Mike’s pause. Alicia hoped he wasn’t going to go on too much longer. She wasn’t fond of big, long speeches.

  ‘So, without further ado, because Alicia’s already looking at her watch …’ She was too. Damn it. She hadn’t meant to be rude. Her neck tightened as she gulped and waved an apology to him. ‘… I invite you to check out the gallery of Paul Colyden. And if you have anything you think could be displayed, please see Alicia. Have a great night.’

  The Drongos were a local band made up of farmers who turned up for most town events. They were here tonight. They started up their tunes, right at the end of Mike’s speech, and the party began. They made a good noise and played a lot of upbeat music for dancing, creating a real party vibe. After an hour they would move across to the pub, and drag the crowd with them. It was a great plan and people were already bopping away as they mingled and chatted.

  As the band were packing up, people pitched in and did a little of the cleaning before they left. The hour had gone quickly. When everyone had left, Alicia only needed to run the vacuum around. She wanted to do that now, to give herself some space. She couldn’t head to the pub because she was overwhelmed from being with so many happy people. She’d been avoiding such a social scene for months. What had possessed her to organise one so she couldn’t avoid attending? It had been as bad as she expected and now the emotions and memories were catching up. It wasn’t only the photos but the people and their comments. The sheen to their eyes. The pride in their voice. The catch in their throat. She’d tried to ignore it but all night it built up inside and now she was terrified she’d explode or collapse—and she didn’t know which was worse.

  So she vacuumed.

  Lachlan was checking up out back, not that anyone should have had access but he said he wanted to check. When she’d run over places for the second time, he wandered through and waited at the front door.

  ‘Don’t wait. I’ll just finish this, lock up and be over.’ She had to shout over the vacuum.

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll wait.’

  ‘Please don’t—’

  ‘Why? So you can lock the door and sneak upstairs and forget the party?’

  She bit her lip and studied the vacuum head. Well, yes but she wasn’t going to admit that. ‘No. I’ll come across. You go so you don’t miss out.’

  He folded his arms across his chest and she’d lost the argument. He picked up one of the magazines from the desk and started flicking pages. She kept vacuuming and straightening, trying to ignore his hovering.

  She’d cleaned the carpet to within an inch of its life when the electricity cut off. Lachlan held the dangling cord from his upraised hand.

  ‘I haven’t finished.’ She aimed for snarky and it came out all that and more.

  ‘I doubt there’s a speck of dust left in the carpet.’ Dry. Emotionless. She couldn’t argue with him. He gave her no way to disagree, and then he packed the vacuum away, taking it from her hand with a tug.

  ‘How was the magazine?’ she asked as they headed to the door. It wasn’t an entirely nice comment and she was ashamed but it was too late to call it back. She was annoyed at Lachlan, at herself, at everyone. She wanted to pick a fight with him so he’d leave. She didn’t want to go into the pub with him. She didn’t want to go to the pub at all.

  But he was oblivious. A smile spread across his face. ‘Can I take it home?’ He waved the magazine.

  ‘Sure.’ Her mind went from annoyed and tangled to piqued, with one little question. One weird question. He’d never wanted to take a magazine before. ‘These are free for farmers to grab if they’re interested. You can pick one up any time.’ There was no way she could find the words to politely ask if he could read it. Not tonight. She was full of snark and nastiness. So she shut up. She’d dished out enough already and fortunately Lachlan seemed not to have noticed.

  They locked up and Alicia moved across the street as if there was a cyclone behind her. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to walk in there, and not with Lachlan, but no matter how fast she walked, he kept up with her. Damn and blast him.

  He opened the door and the noise hit like a gust off a road train on the highway. She baulked. It was much noisier than in the shop. She didn’t want to go in. She was all partied out.

  Lachlan waited. There was a question in his gaze as he held the door. It wasn’t a challenge, it was more like he was asking if she was okay. She wasn’t but she didn’t want him to care. She didn’t want him to be nice. She didn’t deserve …

  Paul’s mum saw them, and came forwards while waving madly. It was lik
e she’d been waiting and it was enough to make Alicia’s feet move. She headed straight to her waiting hug. Paul’s dad patted her shoulder and said he’d get them drinks. When the hugging was done, Lachlan was nowhere to be seen. Alicia breathed deeply.

  ‘Liss, thank you for tonight. I was dreading his anniversary, although it’s weeks away, and you did something completely amazing and beautiful and I don’t know how to thank you.’ Paul’s mum brushed away a tear. ‘I never thought to show his photos and when you said you’d like to, I didn’t for a moment think it would be that stunning.’ She waved her hand. ‘Of course, I knew his work and his genius, I’m his mother. But to see the new people look at those photos. To hear them say the things they did, was incredible. Some of them are from the city and they thought they were the best photos they’d ever seen. From city people.’

  Alicia chuckled. Paul’s mum loved him but she’d never truly appreciated his skill. His family wanted him to do something else with his life, something normal, but he’d chosen photography and they loved him still. She had to respect them for that.

  ‘I’m so glad you liked the gallery.’

  ‘Liked? Sweetheart, we loved it. And Paul would be so damn proud of you.’ They both bit their lips hard and blinked.

  A beer landed in front of her. Paul’s dad grabbed her shoulder and hugged her from behind. ‘You did a good job, kiddo. Tonight was great. The shop looks good and Mike’s so happy to have you working with him. It’s good to see your dreams coming true. And all of the town there.’ He squeezed tight until her shoulder muscles hurt. He wanted to say more she could tell from his mouth opening and closing. He was too choked up to continue. She was too, as was everyone around them. His fingers let go and she grabbed a gulp of beer, blinking rapidly.

  Karen, Paul’s cousin, yelled from across the table. ‘Did you sell any photos?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not tonight. People were keen but I asked them to come in through the week. I didn’t want to be dealing with sales tonight.’ She didn’t want bare walls, is what she should have said. She didn’t want to see his art going. She wanted to be surrounded by it as she was surrounded by his family.