Mountain Ash

by Margareta Osborn

  She had to do everything within her power to protect herself and her children from that.

  But would Nathaniel McGregor leave her?

  Memories of a conversation at Riverton flooded her mind.

  It gets boring doing the same thing year in, year out … I don’t do staying in one place well … Get an itch to get back on the road … Home isn’t a definitive place for me.

  Sure, he would.

  To make an error once was a mistake, to make the same error twice was to be a fool. She would soon have two children to provide for: she had to stay strong for all of them. She couldn’t afford to rely on another cowboy.

  Chapter 39

  The next vehicle up Jodie’s drive was a rent-a-car. Joy Ashton swanned up the verandah steps and parked herself in front of the chair her daughter was sitting on. Jodie had collapsed there after Nate had stormed off, driving the ute back towards Narree like a demon possessed.

  ‘I was practically run off Hope’s Road by some crazy man in a ute,’ was her opening line.

  Of course. It was all about Joy. And if her mother had been wearing her glasses for a change she would have known it was Nate.

  Her mother leaned against the verandah rail, facing the mountains, her back to Jodie. ‘A rather nice view.’

  Nice didn’t quite cut it in terms of today’s incredible vista. The mountains were a hazy grey, the sky a brilliant blue (so like Nate’s eyes). Cumulus clouds were swirling and building up in the far ranges, the ones way out the back. A thunderstorm would send its lightning and thunder rumbling and flashing somewhere in those hills tonight. Not a pleasant thought, seeing how dry this summer had been.

  ‘You really made a mess of today,’ said Joy, still facing the view.

  Jodie said nothing. What was there to say? Yes, I right royally fucked up? She wouldn’t give her mother the pleasure.

  ‘What were you thinking, marrying a man like that?’

  Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking, was the sum total of it. ‘So are you just going to sit there and say nothing, or shall I go?’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ said Jodie. ‘Yes, Mother, you’re right? Yes, Mother, I shouldn’t have been so stupid? Yes, Mother, I should have asked your advice first?’

  ‘Well,’ said Joy, finally turning to look at her daughter, ‘you could’ve talked to me.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ said Jodie. ‘Since when have you ever been interested in me or your granddaughter?’

  Her mother looked upset. ‘But you never let me in, Jodie. You want to be all independent and do it all yourself. If you bothered to ask –’

  ‘But I did ask,’ Jodie burst out. ‘Years ago when I needed your help with Milly to do my nursing course. You said no.’

  ‘I was with Trevor then. He took a lot of my time. I was busy.’

  ‘You’re always busy. Too busy for me. For Milly.’

  ‘Well, maybe I was wrong.’

  Jodie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Joy Ashton wrong?

  Joy pulled a wry face. ‘Yes, I know. Sometimes we do have to admit our failures, Jodie. I was immersed in myself, in my new relationship with Trev,’ her mother grimaced, ‘which turned out to be a waste of my time anyway. The bastard left me for a new piece of skirt.’

  Didn’t they always?

  ‘I didn’t know,’ said Jodie.

  Her mother sighed and swiped a hand across her brow. It was muggy as hell out here. But it was then that Jodie saw it. The vulnerability. Like mother like daughter. The fact was that Joy was getting older. She couldn’t pull the fellas like she used to any more, and it had rocked the foundations on which her life stood. Because Joy was defined by the man she was with. Jodie had almost allowed herself to be the same.

  Like mother like daughter, all right.

  ‘How the hell you got yourself into this mess,’ said Joy, from the relative safety of three feet away, ‘I’ll never know. There are strategies known as con-tra-cep-tion. Anyway, the thing is,’ said Joy, ‘I want to help with the new baby. I suspect you’ll need a hand when it comes and I’d like to be the one you call, rather than that other rag-tag woman – Muriel?’ Her mother scrunched her nose like she’d smelled road kill.

  Aha. So this was what it was all about. Jealousy. Parochial grandmother rights. But Jodie knew she was going to need help and if Joy was putting up her hand, well, so be it. She could be the one person who helped make this possible. Jodie was acutely aware she’d have been snookered if Mue hadn’t been around at the time of her campdrafting accident. If she moved away from here, she’d lose that support. Not if she moved away, she corrected herself, but when. Much and all as she loved McCauley’s Hill, it was time she and Milly left. She couldn’t stay in this community, not after Alex McGregor’s spectacularly public humiliation.

  Nate arrived back at Clem’s just on dark. Lightning was flashing out to the north-west. He’d taken the high road home, in a roundabout fashion, up through the scrubbiest bush tracks he could find, taking his anger and helplessness out on his mate’s four-wheel drive. Ascending scrappy hills and descending into rocky gullies, mountain after mountain, ridge after gully, he scraped and slid his way back to Clem’s hut in the ranges. It was on a block of freehold land, spliced out of the surrounding crown-owned bush, a once-upon-a-time goldminer’s humpy. The original owner had probably thought this nugget of land was to be his Shangri-La. Instead it had become a straggled and sprawling thicket of blackberry canes covering a mound of logs, once the digger’s hut and now Clem’s wood store. Clem had bought the land from the local shire, built himself a small, neat cabin. It was Clem’s utopia, and now Nate’s only place to call home.

  He dragged himself out of the ute, towards his old mate sitting on the verandah, slurping on a stubby. He made his way to the chair opposite Clem’s, a kangaroo skin stretched over a unique-looking wooden frame. He sat and stretched out his long legs. Closed his eyes. A cold can was pushed into his hand. He grunted thanks but stayed as he was. In solitude they both sat and listened to the thunder rolling around the hills.

  Clem broke the silence first. ‘No good, then?’

  ‘Nup.’

  And that was it. For the rest of the night.

  Mue had offered to look after Milly for the next run of Jodie’s nursing shifts. The little girl’s school holidays so far hadn’t been the best fun, so both mother and daughter jumped at the offer. Thank God the older woman lived in town and not out at Glenevelyn. They’d have been lost if they’d been cut off from her by Alex’s fury.

  ‘Goody. Now I can learn how to make a chocolate cake,’ said Milly. ‘That’s our next cooking challenge, Muey said.’

  Jodie was a little cheered. She could do with some comfort food right now. Having delayed her departure from McCauley’s Hill (much to Tammy Hunter’s delight) until she could find a job in another town, Jodie wasn’t having much luck moving out of the McGregor sphere of influence.

  Alex, of course, had wiped her from his life. She knew she deserved nothing less, having left him literally standing at the altar, the laughing stock of all his family, friends and the community at large. The only surprise had been, of all people, Glennys Muldeen.

  Jodie had braved town to call in to the solicitor’s office to sign the paperwork so she could receive what was left of her father’s estate. Phil Grieg had been out, much to Jodie’s consternation. Glennys was holding the fort.

  ‘Mrs Muldeen,’ said Jodie by way of hello.

  She’d expected to be given the icy-cold bare-bones service she’d just received at the bank, whose biggest customer was, of course, Alex McGregor. Surprisingly it didn’t come.

  ‘Ms Ashton,’ said Glennys with a glint of a smile. Not a surreptitious smirk. A smile, which made Jodie all the more suspicious.

  ‘And your little girl. How are you today?’ This was addressed to Milly, who responded with vigour.

  ‘I’m great, Mrs Muldeen. I’m going to have a night at Muey’s and we’re going to make chocolate cake. Do you l
ike cake?’

  To Jodie’s surprise Glennys smiled properly. ‘Yes, Milly, I love cake. Particularly chocolate cake. Maybe you could bring me a piece?’

  ‘Absolutely. Totally. A piece is yours, isn’t it, Mum?’

  Jodie managed a squeaky, ‘Yes,’ before Glennys went on, ‘And Jodie, here is your paperwork. Just sign where indicated by the sticky notes and we’ll be able to get this settled.’

  Aha. Maybe that was it. Glennys Muldeen wanted to see the back of her from this town too. But again she was surprised.

  ‘And … ahem … Jodie? I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Mr McGregor.’ The woman blushed. ‘I understand you’re having a baby?’

  Milly jumped in. ‘Yep. We sure are, Mrs Muldeen. We don’t know if it’s gunna be a boy or girl but it’s cooking in Mum’s tummy, just like a chocolate cake.’

  ‘It’s a chocolate baby?’ said Glennys, her eyes nearly popping through her glasses.

  ‘Hardly,’ said Jodie drily. ‘I don’t think that’d be possible with Nathaniel McGregor as the father. He’s as white as me.’

  ‘So Nathaniel is the father?’

  ‘Yes, he is.’ Jodie couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with this particular woman.

  ‘A lovely man, Nathaniel. Elizabeth did a good job with that boy. I often wished my Richard was more like him.’ And there, in Glennys Muldeen’s eyes, was vulnerability. Guilt. Shame.

  It wasn’t just Jodie. It wasn’t just Joy. It wasn’t even just Mue (because after what had been aired at the wedding, that woman sure had some bones rattling in her closet too). It was people like the Glennys Muldeens of the world. It was everyone. Vulnerability. Guilt. Shame. Unworthiness. Those feelings existed all over the place and weren’t the exclusive domain of Jodie Ashton.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Glennys, genuine interest in her expression.

  ‘Leave,’ said Jodie. ‘Get a job somewhere else.’

  Glennys looked puzzled. ‘Why are you going? Nathaniel would make a lovely father.’

  ‘I’m sure he would, so long as he stuck around.’

  ‘And he wouldn’t because …?’

  Jodie sighed. ‘In my experience, Mrs Muldeen, when the going gets tough – as you know it does when you have kids – cowboys like Nate always up and leave. That’s what they’re programmed to do. And they stomp all over your heart as they ride away.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I’m better off on my own: at least I know what I’m dealing with. It’s not like I haven’t done single motherhood before.’

  Glennys glanced down at Milly, smiling and so polite, neatly dressed in jeans, chequered shirt, little cowgirl boots – a miniature replica of her mother. ‘And I’d say a lovely job you do of it too.’ She took the paperwork Jodie was proffering. ‘Good luck, Ms Ashton.’

  Jodie nodded and went to walk out of the office but curiosity got the better of her. She turned, raised an eyebrow, said one word, ‘Why?’

  Glennys blushed. ‘Because I admire what you did, at the McGregors. Walking away like that. It took guts and a strong belief in yourself and the truth. You were looking after your children. We stand by them, regardless. It’s what we mothers do.’

  Jodie was dumbfounded. Guts? Belief in herself and the truth? Caring for her children?

  Seriously?

  Whoa.

  Chapter 40

  Mue was waiting for Milly. All the ingredients for an afternoon of baking were spread across her untidy kitchen bench. Jodie sent the little girl to the spare room to unpack her overnight bag.

  Jodie had known this was going to be a tough first meeting, but she’d had no idea just how hard. Mue could barely look her in the eye. ‘Thanks for lending me your daughter,’ said Alex’s housekeeper and former lover. ‘I needed a distraction.’

  Jodie decided to go with the light-hearted approach. ‘I thought Wal might’ve been providing that?’

  It was the wrong tack to take.

  ‘I don’t sleep with everyone, Jodie.’

  ‘I wasn’t inferring –’

  ‘I was wrong to have an affair with Alex. I’ve regretted it ever since, believe me. Not only was Elizabeth my employer, she also became my dearest friend.’

  ‘So why?’ said Jodie. ‘How could you do that to your best mate?’

  Mue flapped her hands in the air, like she was trying to brush her past away. ‘Due to complications with Nathaniel, Elizabeth couldn’t have any more children. She basically shut her husband out of the bedroom, refused to have sex. So Alex sought comfort in other places, which at one point just happened to be me. This was before I even knew Elizabeth. I didn’t know she existed. I lived with my family in Melbourne at the time. Had a job as receptionist in the nice boutique city hotel Alex often visited. I got to know him, he was so charming and, well …’

  ‘You slept with him.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I’m not proud of my behaviour.’

  From the anguished expression on Mue’s face, Jodie could believe that.

  ‘When he found out I was pregnant he brought me to Glenevelyn …’

  Jodie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Alex had brought Mue to the property so he could continue the affair under Elizabeth’s nose?

  ‘… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. A single woman, pregnant. My family disowned me for the shame it brought upon them.’ Mue finally glanced at Jodie, a pleading look in her eyes. ‘Alex’s offer was my only choice at the time. Surely you understand that?’

  And Jodie had always thought that Mue was so strong.

  ‘I got here, begrudgingly got to know Elizabeth. Realised what a beautiful person she was. I knew I couldn’t continue the affair. It was wrong. I left Glenevelyn. Got myself a job waiting tables in town, eventually moved up to being a cook. We did all right, Clem and me. We didn’t need McGregor help.’

  And now, once again, Jodie could see the Mue she thought she’d known. The strong, independent woman.

  ‘My family eventually came round, once Clem had grown up a little. Became his own person. He was a good boy. Even though there were plenty of mornings I woke up thinking, Why me? Why do I have to do this by myself? This is so hard. Then there were all the other times when that boy made it more than worthwhile.’

  ‘Why did you lie though, Mue? Why did you say you were a widow when you weren’t?’

  Mue seemed surprised at the question. ‘Like I said to you before, it was easier. Haven’t you noticed? If you’re a widow it’s okay to be a single parent. People seem to think it was God’s choice rather than yours.’

  ‘So the community didn’t know Alex was the father?’

  ‘Good Lord, no. Imagine what a furore that would have caused!’

  ‘Imagine,’ said Jodie. Mue obviously had no idea how the people in town had looked at her this morning.

  ‘When did Clem find out?’

  Mue sighed. ‘Not until he was in his mid-twenties. He got it into his head to find out more about his father. I couldn’t hide it any longer.’

  ‘There’s no love lost?’

  ‘No. With Clem there’s a black and a white. No grey in between. In his eyes Alex never stood by us. He hates him for that.’ Mue’s expression turned contemplative. ‘He did stand by us though, in a way. Gave me a job, then gave me another in these later years.’

  Had Mue slept with him recently? The suspicion must have been plain as day on Jodie’s face because Mue said, ‘I’ve never gone back to him, Jodie. Not after I left Glenevelyn for the first time. I couldn’t do it to Elizabeth again. You have my word on that.’

  ‘Why didn’t you marry Alex, Mue? After Elizabeth died?’

  ‘He never asked me.’ Mue smiled sadly. ‘I don’t think I was ever good enough. I had a past, a history.’

  ‘Well, why did he ask me? I’m a single mother too. I’ve got baggage big time.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re different.’ Mue looked down at her work-worn hands as though she was seeing something else. ‘Alex, I’m ashamed to say, is a snob.
I didn’t have a profession or career like nursing. I never went to university. My parents were battlers, your father was a high-school teacher – a man with a learned mind.’ She glanced up and Jodie saw tears in her eyes. ‘I didn’t stand a chance. Not like you. You’re like a thoroughbred – young, beautiful, fertile.’

  Jodie blinked. Fertile?

  ‘You’re a young woman who would have been an asset to his career. You could give him more heirs, care for him in his old age.’ Mue nodded sagely. ‘He’d have thought it all through.’

  And Jodie could believe that. It was like chess – think ahead, make all the right moves and the game was there for the taking. A game made out of people’s lives.

  ‘Do you think Elizabeth knew who Clem’s father was?’ Mue looked out the window, towards the distant horizon beyond her back fence. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ She turned to Jodie. ‘She didn’t deserve what was done to her. The life she had.’

  The life Jodie had nearly had. Oh my God, she’d had a narrow escape. One child. Two. She could do this on her own. Mue was still proof of that.

  It took her three weeks to work out where she was going to go. February, with its broiling heat, had commenced when Jodie spotted an advertisement in The Land newspaper, left in the sitting room at the nursing home. A farming family were looking for a qualified nurse to care for their grandfather. Perfect. She’d applied, told them about Milly and the baby, and sat back to see where it led. As it turned out the family were desperate. The old fella wanted to come home to the family property to live out his last days and the family were keen to make it happen. They didn’t care about a seven-year-old tag-along, and even less about the baby. The bloke only had a few months to live, so she guessed they thought she’d have been and gone before the little one arrived. She’d worry about that later. She had thirty grand waiting for her to choose a town and a little house once the baby was born and she was back at work part time. For now they just had to get out of Narree. Thankfully there were no issues with them taking Floss.