Borrowing a pair of gumboots from the backdoor, she took a deep breath and set off across the yard. She could do this. She hated guns but she knew how to load, point and fire them. And that was all she had to do here.
Back to the snake. She crept up towards the nesting boxes. That was where she’d seen its tail disappearing through a gap in the wood ten minutes earlier. It had taken this long to get the gun out of the safe and organised. As she’d suspected there was nothing to be seen at the egg-collecting side of the building. The nesting boxes had been built out the side of the shed with lids like old school desks with a few extra holes caused by weathering. You lifted the lid, gathered the eggs and you were done. But there was no way she was lifting those lids today. Not with a tiger snake potentially on the other side.
Creeping around to the gate, she let herself into the chook-yard. Feathers and fluff filled the air as hens ran hither and there, protesting at the tops of their lungs. She spotted the snake curled half in and half out of the insides of the wooden boxes. He’d obviously had the time of his life as he was nice and fat. She stayed well back, lifted the shotgun. Depressed the safety catch. Aimed. And fired.
All hell broke loose.
Snake parts splattered everywhere. The chooks went into meltdown. She was covered in gore and feathers and coated in the dust kicked up by the gunshot and twenty hens trying to make their getaway.
She fired the gun again, just to be sure. More gunk and gore blew into the air and coated everything around her. It was disgusting.
But the snake was a goner.
She breathed a huge sigh of relief and leaned against a post, willing her heart to return to its normal rate. The chooks were still going ballistic but as the minutes ticked by both her heart and the hens calmed down. Looking down at her person, Jodie sighed. It was going to take more than a face-washer to clean up the mess splashed all over her. Better get to it, otherwise she’d never be ready in time. She exited the chicken run to head back towards the house. Stopped to prop open the gate so the chooks could get away from the carnage.
A vehicle drove slowly past behind her. She gave a blithe half wave, expecting it to be her mother. She would not turn around. There was no way she was letting Joy see her like this. Nor Alex for that matter. The noise of the motor disappeared behind the house, heading towards the sheds. Or it was possibly the boys back from the river. Funny they hadn’t stopped, though.
She shrugged. Regardless, she needed to get inside the house, showered and ready for their guests, pronto. She’d tell Alex what she’d done later.
As she made her way back across the lawn she glanced down again and realised her apron was beyond redemption. It was a disgrace. Ripping it off, she dumped it in the bin as she swung up onto the verandah and let herself through the laundry door. Luckily she had a change of clothes stashed in her bag in a spare room. There was an en suite, so after calling out to Milly and letting her know what she was doing, Jodie hotfooted it to the upper storey of the house and set about scrubbing herself clean.
She just prayed their lunch wouldn’t self-destruct for a little while longer.
Chapter 30
On the twenty-first, as demanded, and not a day before, they turned into the gravel drive at Glenevelyn, and Nate felt the years wash away. He could remember so many times tearing down this self-same driveway on his pushie, Clem Bailey always a bike length behind in the early years. At the time Nate had thought it only right seeing he was the elder, but as the years passed and Clem got faster and faster, they’d be neck and neck in the race to get to Mue’s table first. There were always biscuits or cake and a glass of ice-cold milk waiting for both of them regardless, so he wasn’t sure why they felt the need to compete. It was just their way. First to swing on the newly erected flying fox, first on a horse to jump a gate, the first to get really rotten drunk. He gave a little chuckle, which caused Wal to glance his way.
‘What?’
Nate smiled, shook his head. ‘Just the memories.’ He wondered if Clem would be here today. He hoped so. The man never said much, but his presence was a comfort. No matter how much they’d argued as kids, Clem always had your back. He’d been the brother Nate had never had.
‘Word of advice? Try and make that smile stay on your face when you see your father.’
Nate scowled.
‘A smile, I said.’
‘Bastard,’ said Nate.
‘Now, now, now. Is that any way to treat your guest?’ said Wal.
‘I’ll give you fucking guest. You’re a worker!’
‘There’s a difference around here, aye?’ said Wal, teasing now.
‘Too bloody right. Guests get treated with politeness. You, on the other hand, will get treated like me. Your arse kicked from here to kingdom come if you don’t do what the old man asks.’
‘He might’ve changed, Nate,’ said Wal mildly.
Nate shook his head. ‘Unless his new piece of fluff is a miracle worker, I’d hardly think so. Leopards do not change their spots, no matter how hard they try and make you believe they have.’
Wal was about to respond when he stopped, cocking an ear. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘What?’
‘I thought I heard a gunshot.’ The older man shook his head. ‘Must’ve been imagining things.’
‘Probably my father getting ready to greet us.’
They were now driving around the bend of the river, and there was the house, set just back and up a little from the waterway on a flood-safe rise. It looked as magnificent as always, shining luminescent in its locally quarried pink stone.
‘Holy fucking hell,’ said Wal in wonder. ‘You didn’t tell me it was a flamin’ mansion!’
Nate sighed. ‘Yes, it’s a little impressive.’
‘A little impressive. It’s like seeing something out of a fairytale sitting in the Gippsland high country.’
‘Imagine what some young chick who’s a bloody gold-digger thinks then.’
‘She’s got herself a miniaturised version of Buckingham Palace?’
‘It’s not that big, Wal. Anyway, what would you know about the Queen’s place of residence?’
It was now Wal’s turn to scowl. ‘What do you mean? I’m as worldly as the next man. I’ll have you know, I’ve seen the Palace!’
‘Ha! At the movies, I’ll bet.’
‘No. I saw it in person,’ Wal sniffed, ‘in my early days. I went on a world trip.’
Nate stared at the man opposite. ‘I didn’t know. I apologise.’
Wal settled back into his seat, slightly mollified. He stared out the window as the mansion of Glenevelyn crept closer. ‘I haven’t always been an old stockie who loves a swig of the finer stuff.’
Nate grimaced. He’d really hurt the old bloke’s feelings and he hadn’t meant to. That’d teach him to make judgements without knowing the full story.
They drove into the main yard and circled the house. Wal was staring and Nate couldn’t blame him. The old homestead made even him stare in appreciation and he’d grown up there. It was the simplicity of the lines, the strength in the beauty of the stone. The house design itself was straightforward. Square, two storeys, balconies circumnavigating all sides, both upper storey and lower. On the ground level French doors opened out onto a tiled verandah, decked up top. Today, the doors were shut and Nate could see the ceiling fans must be on as the veil curtains were shifting slightly in a breeze. His mother had put up those curtains. In fact she’d redecorated the whole place, spending tens of thousands of dollars to bring it up to scratch. His father had loudly complained, but underneath it all, Nate knew he’d been pleased when the final outcome had caused a visiting Federal MP to compliment Alex on such a beautiful home and property. He’d shut up after that.
His mother had weathered a lot. He hoped this new woman in his father’s life was ready for it. It wasn’t going to be all about being showered with diamonds and dollars.
To the side of the ute, a vision appeared from the direction of t
he old chook-shed. The figure stopped and turned to prop open the gate. She was wearing a head-scarf and a blue apron covered in all manner of gunk, and was carrying a shotgun. Thankfully it wasn’t pointed at them, but at the ground.
‘The natives look friendly,’ said Wal, staring at the woman.
Nate wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not.
At the casual but reassuring wave of a hand he kept the ute moving. Obviously whatever was going on was all under control. The woman was probably one of the workmen’s wives. They were usually capable country girls and he really didn’t want to pull up until he had the horse float at a spot where it could be unloaded. Warrior had caused such a stink getting into the damn thing, and every time they’d stopped for a break on the journey home. He was keen to get the horse unloaded and into a house paddock as soon as possible.
The ute cruised on and rounded the last two corners, which led into the large gravel-laid yard surrounding the machinery sheds. Nate pulled the ute to a halt, behind a John Deere tractor. His father had always been a ‘Dear John’ man.
He turned off the engine. Both men sat for a few minutes appreciating the silence. They’d been on the road all morning. It was good to finally be here.
Sort of.
Nate wasn’t looking forward to meeting his father. Their parting words six years earlier had barely been civil. Nate had returned in the January on a break from working up north. They’d argued before they’d both gone to bed, after the wake of a distant relative. Both men were drunk and surly.
‘And so you’ll be buggering off again.’
Nate took it from his father’s aggressive tone that Alex wasn’t issuing an invitation to stay.
‘Yep. In the morning.’
Alex had turned and walked to the living-room door. It looked as though he was going to say one final thing, but nothing but a grunt came out. He continued out the door.
After his father had left, Nate had sat staring into the empty huge stone fireplace. Nothing was going to change. His mother had been gone two years. His father was emotionally inept. There was no place for him on Glenevelyn while the old bugger lived.
Nate had made sure to be gone by first light, before his father had got out of bed.
He’d hit the road north, headed back to the Territory, and hadn’t heard from his father again until his surprising phone call.
‘Well, best be getting it over with I say,’ said Wal from the other side of the ute.
Nate snapped back to the present.
‘It’ll be okay.’ Wal waggled his eyebrows. ‘At best he might say welcome home; at worst he’ll piss us off.’
Nate grunted.
‘Remember, he rang you.’
The old man had a point. Anyway, he was now thirty-four years old. Time to grow up and not be afraid of what his father was going to say or do.
Afraid? You’re afraid? whispered a voice inside him.
Of course he was afraid. It was a psychologist’s dream case. Son forever seeking approval of father. Father forever withholding it.
‘C’mon,’ said Wal. ‘Sitting here ain’t gunna get this over with, those horses unloaded or my stomach fed. I’m starving.’
Wal was always hungry but Nate was aware of Warrior moving around in the float, and, considering the money he’d coughed up for him, Wal was right. Better they faced up to the old man sooner rather than later. They’d sort out the horses and go find Mue first though.
Jodie bounced down the stairs ten minutes after her meeting with the snake, feeling like the whole world had lifted off her shoulders. A light summer dress floated around her thighs; her shoulders were bare. Her long hair was washed and well on the way to drying in the heat. Strappy little sandals graced her feet. And it was amazing what a tepid shower could do for the temperament. As well as being squeaky clean, she felt a whole lot cooler too, which put her in a much better mood to deal with whatever was waiting for her in the kitchen. Thankfully she hadn’t heard any smoke alarms go off while she’d been in the shower (and she’d been listening) so she was guessing the turkey hadn’t gone up the chimney. Yet.
She could hear her daughter talking to someone in the living room. Oh God. Guests had arrived already? Nerves bubbled in her tummy. She’d been trying not to think about how they were all going to get along together.
She rounded the corner. The voice rumbled on and it belonged to Alex. Jodie made sure she had a smile on her face when she walked into the room. She didn’t want Alex to know how nervous she was about today.
Milly was sitting on the floor with a mutinous expression. Alex was standing at the bar pouring himself a drink. He was still decked out in the clothes he’d gone down to the pump shed in – and he was spotless, unlike the way she’d looked ten minutes before. Thank heavens she’d had the chance to clean up.
‘I was just asking Milly here if she could clean up her dolls,’ said Alex.
Aha. So that’s why there’s a scowl on Milly’s face. ‘Surely she can just move them over to the corner, Alex? The room’s big enough.’ How was the little girl going to entertain herself otherwise? And the room was big enough for all of them. Jodie glanced around. The size of it would swallow her whole house.
Alex sighed. Made a motion with his hand. Milly took that to mean a yes, because she gathered her dolls and moved quick-smart to a corner near the window on the opposite side from her stepfather-to-be.
Jodie sighed now. This was going to be a challenge but she had hope. Alex needed to try a little less, and Milly a bit harder. The two of them just needed more time together. They’d always got along well when she and Milly were living at Grandpa Robert’s and Alex came to visit.
A visit, Jodie. A bit different to full-time living together. Jodie pushed that voice aside. Today was going to be hard enough to get through without adding that to the pot.
Shit, the pot. Lunch!
She took off towards the kitchen, flying in the door to see a strange man standing at the sink, scarfing down a piece of the melting pavlova. ‘Hey! That was for lunch!’ Jodie cried.
‘Seriously?’ the man turned. ‘Oh heck. I’m sorry.’ It was one of the station-hands. Mick maybe? Or was it Pete? Russell? James? Damn, she knew she should have written it down when Alex introduced them earlier. She was a shocker for remembering names.
‘It was just sitting there all gooey so I thought it was a reject.’ The poor man was blushing. Looked like he didn’t know what to do with the gloopy mess in his hands. ‘If it’s any consolation, it tastes lovely.’ His tone was hopeful. Forgive me, it said. Mr Whatshisname glanced towards the door. Seemed unsure, almost frightened.
Jodie suddenly got it. Alex’s voice was coming down the passage towards the kitchen. ‘Jodie? Jodie, are you all right?’
She quickly moved into action, grabbed the chook bucket and handed it to the jackaroo. He took it gratefully and slid the mess into it, then turned and washed his hands. Alex arrived while he had his back turned. ‘Jason? What’re you doing here?’ Alex’s tone was suspicious.
Jason, that was it!
Jodie opened the oven and concentrated on the turkey. Instinctively she knew the less she said, the better for Jason.
‘Just washing my hands, boss. The chooks are out of their pen and in the heat. Thought I’d ask the missus if she knew why.’
Jodie spun round, a baking dish holding a black turkey in her hands. ‘I had to shoot a snake. It was in the chook-house.’
‘What?’ said Alex, transferring his attention to Jodie. ‘You shot a snake?’ Jason looked her up and down, sounding impressed. At a fierce glance from Alex, he ducked his head. The poor guy. He couldn’t do anything right.
Jodie came to his rescue. ‘Yes, I shot a snake. Not a biggie. I didn’t have a choice – no one else was here to relocate him. How about you go get cleaned up for lunch, Jason?’
Jason looked relieved. ‘Okay, I will. Thanks. Ummm … the turkey looks … ummm … nice.’ Jodie swallowed her laughter. It didn’t look nice at
all. It looked like a huge lump of black coal.
Giving Alex a nod, the man fled. They heard the outside door bang shut as he went.
Alex came towards her, ‘My dear, Jodie, did you say you shot –’
‘Mum? Can I have a drink?’ interrupted Milly. ‘And three cars have arrived. A ute with a horse float, Clem and Muey.’
‘A ute with a horse float?’ said a distracted Alex, frowning. ‘Yeah, it came ten minutes ago when Mum was shooting the bastard –’
‘Milly!’ said Jodie. ‘I’ve told you not to swear.’
‘That’s what you called him!’ said Milly. ‘Don’t back-chat your mother, young lady.’ This was from Alex.
Oh God, the morning was going rapidly downhill again.
‘Nathaniel’s arrived,’ said a voice from the door. Clem.
He was carrying an Esky, which, by the weight of it bearing down on his shoulder, was chock-a-block full of beer and ice.
‘Where is he?’ asked Alex, sounding strained.
‘Just sorting out his horses.’ Clem looked at Jodie’s turkey. ‘Maybe my mum should’ve cooked?’
He was a man of few words, and the ones he did use were pertinent, regardless of your feelings.
Yes, she should have got Muey to cook.
‘Mum’s coming in the front door. Some bloke’s helping with her stuff.’ Clem turned to Alex. ‘So’s your son.’
A weird look shot between the two of them, so fleeting Jodie wasn’t sure if she was imagining things.
‘Ahem,’ Alex cleared his throat, ‘we best go meet them then. Jodie?’ He held out his arm to usher her first.
Jodie went to go then realised with a start that she was still holding the turkey. She dumped the baking dish on the counter and flicked a tea-towel over it. Quickly wiped her hands. Fluffed her hair.
Mountain Ash Page 21
