‘I reckon you Romans don’t do your own washing-up,’ he said wryly.
‘True enough!’ Lloyd guffawed. He was clearly pleased with how entertaining his guest was proving to be. But Gemma looked apologetically at Lucy.
Still using the large fork, Ted awkwardly scooped up an oyster. He put it straight into his mouth, and with his usual poker face, swallowed it.
‘Well?’ Evelyn Collard asked.
‘You like them!’ Lloyd cried triumphantly.
‘Well, they slip down easy enough,’ Ted said. This was met with another loud laugh from his audience.
The next entree arrived. ‘Calamari with truffle-infused cream,’ Lloyd announced.
Lucy watched Ted put his head down and eat it determinedly. He managed to get it down, listening with half an ear to the chatter around him and doing his best to politely answer the inane questions being hurled at him from all directions. Lucy was proud of the way he levelly met each person’s gaze, delivering each answer with a glint of tolerant pride in his tawny eyes.
‘Can you crack a stockwhip?’
‘Yep.’
‘Can you throw a lasso?’
‘Yep. Don’t look pretty, but. Only do it when we have a scrubber bailed up with the dogs and you can’t get in close,’ Ted explained. ‘Rope him then snig him over to a tree.’
‘Scrubber? Snig? That’s cowboy jargon, I take it? Can you ride a bucking bull?’
‘Nope. Got plenty of better ways to hurt myself.’
‘Do you wear an Akubra hat and moleskins?’
‘Yes to the hat, no to the moleskins.’
‘Shame on you! Why no moleskins?’
‘What, d’you reckon I need to show off my legs a bit more?’ Without warning, Ted’s face erupted into his startling grin, and Lucy saw Felicity melt in her seat.
The caterers began serving the main course. ‘We’ve had the reef,’ Lloyd announced, ‘and in honour of our own Crocodile Dundee here, we’re now having the beef. This might be more to your liking, Mr Dundee?’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, mate,’ Ted said, ‘but I give crocs a wide berth. I’m not that much of a duffer. The beef sounds good, but.’
Lloyd gestured with a flourish as enormous white plates appeared before the guests, each with a small pile of decoratively arranged food, swimming in sauce, balanced in the centre. Everyone made appreciative noises, and Lloyd toasted Ted.
The company seemed entranced by everything the ringer said, and Lucy was amazed that he was game to speak at all. These people spoke another language to Ted’s, and their concerns and priorities were so foreign to him. Her early days at Charlotte’s Creek had taught her just how that felt. Cameron was talking continuously to her, an engaging half-smile on his face, but she kept looking over at Ted, wishing that she was beside him and able to support him in some way. Again he met her concerned eyes and smiled at her, at which she relaxed a little. He was clearly coping.
Then Lloyd addressed her. ‘So, how are you managing being back in the rat race after your stint outback, dear sister? Are you yearning to return to the wilds?’
‘I did love it at Charlotte’s Creek,’ Lucy said. ‘It was only the circumstances that brought me back here.’
‘Yes.’ Lloyd rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then went on, more to himself than anyone else, ‘It must be sensational to be in a setting with such a history of human endeavour. I tend to think we’ve lost a sense of that.’
Surprised by Lloyd’s observation, Lucy answered enthusiastically. ‘It is wonderful, Lloyd. You feel surrounded by stories at Charlotte’s Creek. It’s . . . it’s hard to explain.’
‘How precious,’ Evelyn Collard observed lightly.
‘Places like that won’t come again, you know,’ Lloyd continued. ‘Nor people like the pioneers.’
Ted, who as yet hadn’t offered many comments voluntarily, looked suddenly moved by Lloyd’s words. ‘Shame the whole damn place will probably end up being sold off to the highest bidder,’ he muttered.
A few of the guests laughed, but Lloyd remained serious. ‘Now what do you mean by that, Ted?’
‘Oh well, the situation out there isn’t too flash,’ Ted explained. ‘Like a lot of places, it’s had its day. Not viable as a family-run show anymore. You watch. It’ll be bought up by some dinky-di-sounding pastoral company. But they’ll be from China, India or Indonesia.’
There was a brief silence. Ted, seeing he had everyone’s attention, bravely went on. ‘Happening everywhere. Right under our noses. There’s not many young blokes to take over, and even if there was, the banks won’t loan a fella the money to buy a place when there’s no return on the asset. So these foreigners are more than happy to take them off our hands.’
‘You’re not a tad racist, perhaps?’ Marcus asked with a smile on his face.
Ted shook his head. ‘No, mate. I take my hat off to them. They’re the clever ones, thinking ahead. Thinking about where their food’ll be coming from in a couple of decades. We’re the dimwits who are falling over ourselves to sell it to them.’
‘Now, Ted,’ Felicity scolded, ‘don’t go getting all political on us. We don’t want bad news from the bush. We want cowboys, cattle drives, country shows, sunsets and cups of tea on the veranda. I want you to entice me to visit you out there!’
‘I don’t know the first thing about politics, mate,’ Ted said, looking at Felicity now. ‘People in the bush can see the writing on the wall, that’s all. But like you say, you townies don’t wanna know. And there’s not enough of us to make a noise about it.’
Felicity laughed merrily, Ted’s words and serious demeanour clearly having made less impression than the intensity of his gaze, and the cheerful chitchat around the table resumed. Lucy watched Ted pick up his fork. Judging from his expression, he’d decided not to waste his breath trying to explain any further. But Lloyd was still looking intently at the ringer, his cutlery motionless in his hands. Then he too re-joined the general chatter.
As they ate dessert, a few separate conversations were taking place at the different corners of the table. Ted gave Lucy another suggestion of a grin, his dimple appearing as he chewed. She smiled back, wondering if he was enjoying the reprieve from everyone’s attention. Again she wished with all her heart that she was sitting beside him. He was handling the role of performing monkey with dignity and patience.
In the end, despite the protests of the company in general, Lucy and Ted were the first to leave the gathering. ‘I’m so sorry, Ted,’ Lucy said as soon as they closed the car doors. ‘I shouldn’t have taken you there. I should have known Lloyd would spring something like that on you.’ She started the car and reversed carefully from the tiny parking space.
‘Don’t lose any sleep over it,’ Ted said. ‘I didn’t mind so much—giving those poor unhappy blighters a laugh or two.’
‘Unhappy?’ Lucy glanced across at him.
‘Bloody oath. Wouldn’t swap my spot with them for anything.’
‘Good for you!’ Lucy beamed at him.
‘Never met any of those real flashy bored types up close before,’ Ted observed. ‘Been a real eye-opener for me, it has.’
Lucy laughed incredulously, pulling out into the street. ‘I’m not sure they’d want you to pity them.’
‘I’m damn sure they wouldn’t expect me to have an opinion at all,’ Ted agreed. ‘And they wouldn’t give a stuff if they knew I did.’
‘I suspect Felicity might care,’ Lucy said slyly, keeping her eye on the car in front of them.
‘You mean before she chewed me up and spat me out again?’ Ted snorted.
Lucy giggled again. She looked across at Ted and was overcome by an impulse to pull over and hug him.
Oblivious to her compulsion, he went on thoughtfully. ‘That Lloyd, he’s not such a bad fella. Reckon he’d grow on me if I had a bit to do with him.’
Lucy shook her head in admiration. ‘You never cease to surprise me, Ted.’
He rewarded her with one of
his full, rarely bestowed smiles and she could only smile back, full of pride for the way he’d conducted himself. He was a true gentleman, just as she’d always suspected.
Lucy made bright small talk on the way to the airport, defying the heaviness that had settled in her chest and was constricting her throat. Ted answered cheerfully enough, in his monosyllabic way, but Lucy could see that his mind had flown on ahead of him to Charlotte’s Creek. They soon left behind the poky backstreets and plunged into the torrent of main road traffic, at which they both fell silent. Lucy suddenly felt as though the two of them were being carried along against their will with the rest of the relentless, teeming lines of motor vehicles, full of faceless people hurrying to nameless destinations. It was impossible to believe that this same small car, this speeding capsule of plastic and metal, had slowly and unsteadily traversed the dirt tracks of Charlotte’s Creek. As each airport sign flashed by, it seemed to be indicating with greater urgency that Lucy’s time with Ted was drawing to a close.
She felt a strange numbness stealing over her. She was glad of it, hoping that it would delay the tidal wave of sorrow that was slowly but surely rolling towards her. If only the swell could engulf her after Ted had gone, it would be a private drowning, and she would be free to go floating off somewhere, by herself, to tend to her aching heart. The creeping emptiness had a hold of her now, so much so, it was as though she was detaching herself from her own body, almost a spectator, watching herself from the outside. Ted was silent, like some grim stone sculpture.
‘I’ll say a little prayer for a safe trip for you,’ Lucy heard herself saying.
Ted started slightly, jolted into the present. He gave her a stern, probing look. ‘You reckon it does any good? Talking to the Big Man upstairs? You really reckon he has the time to listen to us little fellas drifting round down here?’
‘I’ve lost count of the number of times it’s helped me,’ Lucy’s voice said softly, as she veered the car up the incline to the domestic terminal.
‘Fair dinkum?’ Ted sounded doubtful.
‘Too right, Goldy. Bloody oath.’ Lucy wasn’t quite sure why she’d chosen those words. Perhaps it was a desperate plea for attention, while she still had the chance. She met Ted’s eyes briefly, then turned away from his beautiful smile.
‘Righto then,’ he conceded. ‘I’ll have a crack at it. Today, on the plane. Might take my mind off the flying. Can’t do any harm, and it might just do some good. Hell, if God hears me praying, I reckon he’ll be so stoked, it might just cause a flaming miracle.’
Lucy gave a hollow little laugh and slowed the car to a stop in the line of other vehicles pausing to deposit passengers and baggage. She mechanically popped the boot as Ted leapt out onto the pavement. He shouldered his swag and small sports bag of belongings, bent to look in the window at Lucy, tipped his hat with a cheerful, ‘Hooray then, mate,’ and was gone.
Lucy sat stunned, engine idling in the set-down bay, risking the wrath of the patrolman by entering her third minute of being stationary in the two-minute zone. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks, obscuring her vision.
Then suddenly Ted was back, his face at her window. Lucy wiped her eyes in mortification. He wrenched open her door, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out. Holding her tightly, he bent down and buried his face in her hair.
‘Been meaning to ask whether you’d be thinking of coming home north again,’ he said into her ear.
Lucy sobbed in agitation and tried to pull free. But he held her prisoner.
‘Move along now, please.’ It was the uniformed patrol officer.
Ignoring him, Ted spoke again, with urgency. ‘I dunno, Lucy, but a bit of me came alive when you showed up at Charlotte’s Creek. Gave me something to think about. That’s what you do—give, to every damn bugger, no matter how blooming rude they are. Even the frogs get a look-in. It even started me thinking, if I ever had a bunch of kids, that’s the type I’d be wanting for their mother.’
‘Move along immediately!’ The officer was getting worked up now. ‘You are creating an obstruction. Who is the driver of this vehicle?’
But Ted just held her more firmly. ‘I’m not trying to insult you, Lucy. You deserve better than a rough bastard like me. Someone like that squeaky-clean Cameron bloke. But I had to tell you. Reckoned I might not get another chance.’
Lucy gave a shuddering sigh.
‘Is this your car, sir?’
Ted spoke faster. ‘Everyone’s moping around back home with you gone. Poor old Mel’s worse than she’s ever been. And that bit of me that woke up, it’s gone and died again. I reckon I might go out on hoof again.’ Finally, Ted let go of her, steadying her with a brief touch. ‘Old Stumpy was right.’ Then, nodding at the officer, ‘Yeah, righto, mate, keep your shirt on, I’m going now.’ Ted shouldered his swag again. ‘You bloody townies rush around like you got a broom handle shoved up your back end.’ Then he was gone.
Lucy, her face still tear-streaked, gazed after him, but the uniformed man stepped in front of her. ‘I’ll have to issue you with—’ ‘I’m going, okay?’ Lucy hurriedly wiped her eyes and jumped into her car. As she drove off, she could just make out Ted’s lanky form through the sliding glass doors, striding away through the bustling airport throng.
Chapter 39
It was early afternoon when Lucy drove over the grid into Charlotte’s Creek. She was surprised to discover that she wasn’t bursting with excitement as she’d imagined, during all the long hours of driving up from Sydney, that she would be. Instead, it felt incredibly normal, as though she hadn’t been away for the best part of a year. She hadn’t told Mel she was coming, having only made the final decision to do so a few days before leaving, after a conversation with her parents during which they assured her they could manage without her again now. She wanted it to be a surprise for the unhappy woman if she hadn’t managed to find another governess. She’d timed her arrival for the beginning of the new school year, after spending a beautiful Christmas with her family, and as she drove along the dirt road towards the buildings it all felt just how it should have.
Lucy had cried when farewelling her mother three days earlier, and Marie had wept too. At that moment they both realised that they’d become a little too dependent on one another.
‘Go on now, darling baby girl,’ Marie had sobbed. ‘It’s better this way. You spoil me too much and it’s just plain selfish of me to keep you here.’
Graham only smiled fondly. ‘Say hello to my good friend Ted,’ he’d said, kissing Lucy on the forehead. ‘And ring us.’
Then Gemma, who had dropped by to see Lucy off, had hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, ‘I’m pregnant again, Luce.’
But now Sydney, and Lucy’s family, were worlds away, and it felt intensely familiar to be parking in her spot in the Charlotte’s Creek shed as though she’d only been absent a week or two. Rambo, grazing on the short grass near Lotte’s Hut, spotted her first, raising his woolly head and bleating. Lucy looked around hopefully for running dogs, but although Dennis’s collies began to yap and rattle over at the cages, there was no sign of Shep or Snoz.
Then the children were pelting across the dirt from the direction of the stockyards, the twins squealing and Cooper bellowing.
‘Bloody hell, it is you!’ Cooper reached the car first. ‘You snuck up on us! Mum’ll be stoked.’
‘Are you here to stay or just visiting?’ Billie gasped, arriving next to Cooper and narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
‘Our names are still there!’ Wade yelled in delight, pausing to check Lucy’s bumper bar on his way past the car. ‘We can do them much neater now, Lucy!’
Molly arrived last. Pushing between her siblings, she flung her arms around Lucy, speechless with joy. The others followed suit, even Billie. Mel emerged from the house and hurried over, huffing and puffing with an enormous Henry on her hip. She stopped in front of Lucy, suddenly awkward. Lucy gently disentangled herself from the children to embrace Mel. Henry, stuck in the m
iddle, began to whimper and struggle to get free. He slid down to the ground and waddled quickly away towards the yards, his full nappy hanging low between his legs.
‘He’s forgotten me!’ Lucy said in dismay.
‘I wouldn’t let it worry you.’ Mel was grinning her welcome now. ‘He’ll soon make up for lost time.’
A few hours later Lucy finally managed to extricate herself from the children, who went off with Noel in the truck to return some stray cattle to Keenes’. Henry went to sleep and all at once it was remarkably quiet in the kitchen. Lucy made a cup of tea, then examined Mel’s face as the older woman stood looking down at the rissoles she was shaping in her hands. Perhaps it was just because she hadn’t seen Mel for a while, but Lucy thought her expression was more sadly resigned than ever.
‘Mel, I hope you don’t mind me springing up on you,’ she said. ‘I was wondering whether you might want me back. If not, I’ll stick around for a day or two if that’s okay.’
Mel reached for another handful of mince. ‘Well,’ she frowned, ‘as a matter of fact I do want you back. Didn’t realise how bloody handy you were till you shot through. I would have rung and asked you to come back if I’d thought I was justified in doing it.’
Lucy grinned in relief. She sipped her tea, hesitating for a moment. ‘Where are Dennis and Ted today?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Den’s gone out to check on the gang doing the tordoning at Prussia,’ Mel said.
‘And Ted?’
Mel stopped rolling the rissole and scrutinised Lucy’s face. ‘He’s redoing that buggered stretch of fence along the back of Eastern Weaner. Got cooked again in the fire while you were gone.’ She dropped the rissole into the pan. ‘He’s worried that some of this year’s rumpers, out of that stirry Anakie bull, will bust out.’ She took up another handful of mixture. ‘Take a ute if you want.’
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