The Road Home

by Palmer, Fiona

  ‘In what warped way do you think my brother owes you two grand?’ Lara put her hands on her hips to stop them shaking. She could barely speak as the nerves rattled up from her chest into her throat. She was worried she’d pass out from the panic.

  ‘Like I told you before, your brother likes to gamble.’ Lara was about to defend Noah when Aaron held up his hand. ‘Look, if you don’t believe me, go ask old Witford. He works over at the —’

  ‘Yeah, I remember where he works.’ Mr Witford had run the local tractor business since she was a kid.

  Aaron smiled, revealing yellow, unbrushed teeth. His eyes shifted like he’d changed his mind about something. ‘Here. I’ll help you put this on your ute, then you go see Witford and then next time we meet, you pay me what I’m owed, all right?’

  Lara couldn’t muster a reply as she watched Aaron lug the welder to her ute, grunting and groaning under its weight.

  ‘Or you could come out with me?’ he added as something of an afterthought. ‘There are other ways to pay off the debt, if you’d rather,’ he said with a wink and a smirk. She shuddered at the thought and quickly made her getaway, just about leaving skid marks on the road.

  Lara drove straight to the tractor joint and headed inside the silver shed. It was massive – big enough to house a couple of tractors. A mechanic was working on an old John Deere model. He paused when he saw her, wiping his greasy hands on his pants.

  ‘Is Mr Witford in?’

  ‘In the back office,’ the mechanic replied before picking up the large part he was working with.

  Lara found her way to the office and knocked on the open door. Mr Witford was in his sixties, with thinning hair on top and large shoulders that stooped over as he worked. His desk was covered in layers of papers, and catalogues teetered in a pile near the edge.

  ‘Mr Witford,’ she said, waiting for him to look up. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Sure …’

  ‘It’s Lara Turner.’

  ‘Of course, love. You look just like your mother. Come in. What can I do for you?’ Witford leant back in his worn-out chair and pressed his fingers together. He wore a large black polo shirt with the business logo on it.

  She sat in a chair opposite, put her hands in her lap, and clenched them between her knees. ‘Sorry to just come barging in like this but apparently you can tell me about Noah?’ His eyes flickered with interest as she took a deep breath and blurted out the rest. ‘Aaron Snippet seems to think that Noah owes him money, but I don’t believe him.’

  Witford glanced down and a rush of blood surged up his neck to his face. ‘I’m sorry, Lara. He’s right. Noah’s been caught up with Aaron.’

  ‘What do you mean “caught up”?’

  Lara could tell he didn’t really want to spell it out by the way he rolled his tongue around in his mouth. ‘You know, betting and gambling.’

  ‘Are you sure? It really doesn’t seem like Noah.’

  None of this made sense. Gambling was those pokies machines for the old folks, or blokes who loved the races. But there weren’t any horse races around here. It just wasn’t fathomable.

  ‘He started coming to the poker games over a year ago. It was all very friendly until Aaron upped the stakes and it started turning serious. I’ve since pulled out myself, as the missus was going berserk about money I’d lost, but Noah kept at it and it was getting ugly.’

  ‘Ugly?’ Lara’s heart was in her mouth.

  ‘The stakes were getting ridiculous. Noah couldn’t quit on a win or a loss.’ Witford scrunched his hand and she heard some knuckles crack. ‘Rumour around town is he’s been hitting the TAB pretty hard too, down at the pub. I don’t know how serious it is, love, but I’d say he’s not handling it too well, you know? Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’

  She blinked rapidly while trying to process it all. Her Noah, gambling? It just didn’t sound right.

  ‘Okay. Well, thanks, Mr Witford.’ She got up quickly and stumbled out the door and back to her ute. On autopilot, she headed home, but her mind was anywhere except the road. How could he gamble to the point that he owed someone two thousand dollars! Then she thought of all the money in the books that was unaccounted for and suddenly felt sick. She had to pull over. Surely he hadn’t blown fifty grand!

  She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. No, she was jumping to stupid conclusions. Noah had good reasons for all that missing money. That was him, just lazy at book work. But something gurgling deep down in the acid of her stomach said otherwise. God, please let most of it be stuff he’d bought for the farm. Please let him just be distracted with the wedding and the new farm. Lara let her head drop to the steering wheel as she tried to relax her sweating body.

  ‘Oh heck, Noah,’ Lara muttered. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  21

  LARA had resisted the urge to ring Noah straightaway. ‘Never do things while you’re hot-headed,’ her father always used to say. So she’d given herself a few days to think, to find a way to approach him. It was harder than she’d thought. Small parts of her still refused to believe it. She was on a rollercoaster ride of feeling sick and fighting with herself. She felt like a bad sister for not being there for Noah, almost as if she were somehow responsible. Maybe if she’d been here sooner, none of this would have happened. Her mind raced over and over it.

  She fed Gretel and tended to her wounds. Gretel now called for her feed, which was a positive sign. The missing flesh near her jaw still looked gruesome but the lamb’s injuries only made Lara love her that much more. Despite what she’d been dealt, and all that she’d been through, Gretel was still a normal little lamb whose tail flicked as she drank. Lara played with Gretel for a while, but she knew she couldn’t put off calling Noah forever. Even now, she still didn’t want to believe that he had been squandering the farm money. She was still hopeful. Or was she just being delusional?

  Her heart rose up into her throat as she dialled his number and waited for him to answer.

  ‘Y’ello,’ said Noah, his voice carefree.

  ‘Hey, Noah. It’s just me. How’re things going?’

  ‘All good. Just got back from fixing a busted trough. How about you?’

  ‘Well …’ Her hands began to shake. ‘I could be better. I had a bit of a run-in with a bloke called Aaron. He says you owe him money.’ Her ears ached with the pounding of her blood. There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line, so Lara pressed on. ‘He tried to steal our welder off the farm.’

  ‘What?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘So … you wanna tell me about that?’ Lara could hear Noah sigh. ‘Look, Noah, a few people have been saying you’ve been gambling. If that’s true, you should have told me. This Aaron bloke’s not very nice.’

  ‘He hasn’t hurt you, has he?’

  ‘No, but he wants his money. All two grand of it. Jesus, Noah!’

  ‘It’s nothing to worry about, sis. I’ll call Aaron today and sort it out. Don’t worry your precious head over it. It was only a small poker game. I was just having a bad run.’

  ‘Noah, is this a problem? Is this why you haven’t been able to account for the missing sums of money? We’re talking big dollars there, you know. Tell me honestly, have you gambled all that money too?’

  ‘No, sis. Course not. It’s not a problem, I told you. Lots of people gamble for fun. Didn’t you know farming’s a gamble? What I’m doing isn’t much different.’

  ‘Noah, that’s not telling me where this fifty grand went,’ she huffed.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ he said angrily. ‘Want me to send you up a cheque for fifty grand then, and be done with it? ’Cos I don’t have the time to spend on this shit. I’m trying to learn all this stuff with cattle, and I’ve got a wedding to organise, in case you hadn’t noticed. I really don’t need this right now.’

  ‘Noah, sending me a cheque isn’t going to solve the problem of where the money went! I don’t care about the bloody money! If you’ve really gamble
d all that away, then you need help. Seriously. That isn’t normal, Noah,’ she said, raising her voice as if it would help get through to him. ‘There’s a huge difference between blowing a few hundred on a card game and losing fifty thousand off the farm’s bottom line.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lara. Just give it a rest, will you?’

  ‘Jesus, Noah. Are you in denial or what? What does Amanda think about all this?’

  ‘Hey, you leave her out of this,’ he growled.

  ‘Noah, if this is a problem, I can help you and so can Amanda,’ Lara said, trying to reason with him.

  ‘I mean it, Lara. Just drop it. Don’t be a bitch. This is no one’s business but mine, and I don’t want anything upsetting Amanda with less than three months till the wedding.’

  Tears of hurt and anger burnt Lara’s eyes. ‘It is too my business. You’re my brother. Let me help you.’

  ‘Don’t you get it? I don’t need any help. There is nothing wrong with me. Look, I’ll transfer the money across tomorrow and I’ll sort out Aaron. You should be worrying about the sheep and getting ready for seeding.’ His voice sounded detached and cold. ‘I’ve gotta go.’

  ‘Noah?’

  ‘Bye, Lara,’ he said forcefully, and hung up.

  She dropped her head into her hands and tried to make sense of Noah’s ramblings. He’d been so defensive and argumentative, but hadn’t been able to provide any reassuring answers to her questions. Losing fifty grand from the farm was bad enough, but if Noah had an addiction, then this might just be the start of things. How long before he lost the money he had from the Perth house too? How long before all the money sitting in his account tempted him into blowing some of it? How long before it was all gone? What if it got to the point that it affected Brunamar too? His wife and his whole future could be on the line.

  Lara did the only thing she thought she could do. She picked up the phone and dialled Amanda’s mobile.

  ‘Hey, Amanda. Where are you?’

  ‘Lara, my soon-to-be sister-in-law! I’m just in town collecting some supplies … and having a latte and some cheesecake.’ She giggled down the phone. ‘Don’t tell Dad or Noah or I’ll lose the courier run.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dare,’ Lara said. Her conscience was in turmoil but she couldn’t just turn a blind eye. ‘Look, Mandy, there’s something serious I need to talk to you about. Have you got a few minutes to spare?’

  ‘Sure, Lara. What’s up?’ Amanda’s tone turned sober.

  ‘It’s about Noah. I’m not really a hundred per cent sure, and it might be nothing, so don’t get too worried yet, but I understand he’s been gambling.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. I know. He loves it. Every time we go to Perth he’s off to the casino and he loves his poker nights.’

  ‘But I think it’s become serious. He obviously keeps playing until he has no money left. He owes a guy here two grand, and I’ve a feeling that’s not all.’

  ‘Two grand?’ Amanda spluttered. ‘He’s never bet more that a few hundred … Well, that’s what he’s told me. Are you sure?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be ringing you if I wasn’t. Look, I just talked to him and he’s pretty pissed off with me. He didn’t want me to call you or mention any of this. But I’m really worried about him, and I thought you had a right to know. If you could keep an eye on your money … just see if anything unexplained goes missing?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  Amanda sounded shocked and uncertain. Hell, Lara thought. She felt exactly the same way.

  ‘I’m so sorry to burden you with this, but hopefully together we can try and sort something out.’

  ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that, Lara. He’s busy with the farm now.’ Amanda sounded optimistic but Lara knew he’d been busy on Erindale too, and that obviously hadn’t stopped him.

  When they hung up, Lara did feel a little better. At least she wasn’t dealing with this alone now.

  She heard the rumble of a truck and remembered that the super was being delivered today. Noah had already told the truckie where to dump the fertiliser, so Lara didn’t need to run out and deal with it. She wasn’t in the mood for anything other than a block of chocolate and a feel-good movie, but that would have to wait. Mel was coming down on the weekend and she was so looking forward to having her bubbly best friend around for company. Mel would be able to check out Gretel and help with the other lambs, too.

  For the first time in a few days, Lara smiled. She grabbed her hat and, with renewed enthusiasm, headed off to check the sheep.

  Later that night, Lara realised she’d forgotten to call the contractor, who was waiting for her to let him know when the fertiliser arrived. She put in a quick call and, luckily for her, he was able to start on Friday. After a shower, Lara settled into the kitchen to rustle up some dinner.

  The phone rang while she was halfway through eating her lasagne.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘I told you not to tell Amanda anything,’ growled Noah. ‘How dare you go behind my back and upset my relationship for no reason.’ Lara opened her mouth to protest but he kept ranting. ‘You didn’t care about me when you shipped off back to the city after Mum and Dad died, so I sure as hell don’t want you sticking your nose in now where it doesn’t belong.’

  Tears threatened at the harshness in her brother’s voice. She’d never heard him so angry and hurtful. ‘Noah, I’m only trying to help —’

  ‘Just piss off out of my life, and mind your own business from now on.’

  And then he hung up. She stared at the phone in disbelief as the tone beeped loudly. She immediately tried to call him back but he didn’t answer. She tried Amanda’s mobile and it also rang out.

  ‘Damn it.’ She looked at her half-eaten dinner and felt sick. She took the leftovers outside for Dippa and Roy, then tried ringing Noah again. Still no reply.

  She tried to watch a bit of TV, but couldn’t concentrate. At nine-thirty she decided to head to bed. Her mobile was blinking on her bedside table. It was a message from Amanda.

  Sorry. Shit has hit the fan. Best just leave him to cool down. I’ll get in touch later x

  Well, that was better than nothing. As she lay back on her pillow, branches and loose tin scraped against the house in the wind in a symphony of the night. It was enough to finally lull Lara to sleep.

  By the following morning, Lara was cursing last night’s wind.

  It was a crisp, clear morning and normally she’d be feeling excited and ready to start a new day. But now she stood at the foot of her three-hundred-dollars-a-tonne pile of super, which was half the size it had been. A few inches of it had spread through the nearby fence and paddock. She let rip with a mouthful of expletives, sending both dogs running.

  ‘I’m sorry, boys,’ she said and called them back for a pat. Why, oh why, couldn’t she have lady luck on her side, just for once? Jack would have a field day with this.

  Lara’s brain ached, the agony of yesterday still lingering, as she tried to figure out what to do. One thing was for sure – she couldn’t ignore it. Time to figure out how to drive the old loader. Inside the shed sat the old, faded yellow Chamberlain loader. It had a big rust-covered metal bucket on the front and huge wheels. She’d only driven it once or twice before, when she’d been home for school holidays.

  When she finally managed to start it, she reversed very carefully out of the shed and had a quick play with the hydraulics. Once she’d figured out the levers, she headed to the mess with a shovel and a broom stowed in the bucket. The best plan of action, she decided, was to make lines the width of the bucket so it was easier to shovel the fertiliser in. With her lack of experience, using the loader to pick up the fertiliser would be way too hard; she’d just end up spreading it further or digging up dirt. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty – she kept count of her shovel loads as she scooped the super into the big loader bucket and wished she had her iPod. After a while she lost count and stopped to catch her breath. Flexing out her cramped hands, she saw
a few splinters lodged in her palm from the shovel. The sun had moved up in the sky and was getting hotter by the second. With a huge sigh, Lara picked up the shovel, bent her already sore back and started scooping. She was over halfway through picking up what she could salvage when Marge arrived.

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Marge put her hands on her hips and stood next to Lara as she wiped the sweat from her brow and rubbed her blistered hands against her shorts. Not just one blister. She had about three on each hand, but she was determined to ignore the pain. Soon they would toughen up.

  ‘I know, I know. Thought I’d better gather up what I could. This stuff costs an arm and a leg.’

  ‘You must be exhausted.’ Marge took the shovel from Lara and began to scoop some of the super from the ground into the loader bucket.

  ‘Marge, stop that. Give me the shovel back before you do yourself an injury.’

  Marge didn’t pause as she spoke, her movements strong and sure. ‘As I keep telling Trent, just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I’m dead yet. I’m quite capable of shovelling for a while. How else do you think I keep fit and healthy?’

  Lara couldn’t do anything except watch Marge carefully shovel up the small pile she’d collected. Lara was sweating in the midday sun and Marge looked pristine, without a hair out of place or a mark on her clothes.

  ‘I hope I’m like you, Marge, if I ever survive this farm.’

  As Marge finished off the last shovelful, she rested on the handle, then measured up Lara with her compassionate eyes. ‘Don’t let a little thing like this worry you,’ she said, sweeping her hand over the super like it was just spilt milk. ‘It’s happened more than once over on our place and it probably won’t be the last time. These things happen. Farming is a big business and lots of things can go wrong and do go wrong. It’s how you ride out the problems that counts. You have to keep getting up, no matter what knocks you take. That’s the sign of a true battler.

  ‘Back in my day, nothing was as easy as it is today. I think of how hard my father worked night and day just to get his farm cleared, and to put in his crop, only to come home to sleep in a tent. I can remember when we could finally afford to rebuild a tin shed he’d bought for us to live in.’ Marge shook her head, as if she could see the old wooden beams, rusted corrugated tin and dirt floors right in front of her.