It brought back an instant memory of Belinda and her sister Becky setting up shop at the end of the long driveway of their farm when she was about eight years old. The only customers they ever got were her grandma, her Uncle Scott, and Ted and Sandi from the farm next door. How could she not stop and give these poor kids a sale? She pulled over, made a U-turn and drove slowly back.
The two girls were just about squealing with delight to have a real customer stopping for them. She left a window open for the puppy and crossed the road to take a look at what they had on offer.
‘Hello and welcome to our store,’ said one of the girls smoothly. ‘My name is Issy and this is my associate, Annie. Please feel free to browse and let us know if there is anything at all we can do to help you.’ Issy waved her arms around the display as though she were one of those models on a game show, presenting the prizes. Annie giggled into her fist and Issy nudged her crossly.
Belinda did her best not to laugh – clearly Issy was taking her small business very seriously. The foldout table had been spread with a green-and-white checked tablecloth. On top were an odd collection of bits and pieces: hair clips, scrunchies, necklaces and pretty coloured stones, along with a can opener next to a tin of pineapple rings and a little package of cotton buds bundled up in a hair elastic. These were the types of things that Belinda and Becky used to have for sale at their own store – basically anything they could find when they raided the house.
‘All right, how much for the butterfly necklace and the tin of pineapple?’ Belinda asked, pointing to the items.
‘Make me an offer,’ Issy said, her face dead serious.
At the same time, Annie cried out, ‘Eighty cents!’ Issy shushed Annie and squared her shoulders, looking up at Belinda for a response.
Belinda smiled. ‘All right, let’s say fifty cents.’
‘Ha, you’re dreaming. I won’t sell them for a cent under eight bucks.’
‘Issy!’ Annie looked shocked, clearly worried about losing their only sale.
‘I’ll give you a buck fifty.’
‘Five and I’ll throw in the can opener.’
‘Two dollars and I’ll just use the can opener and give it back.’
‘Three-fifty and you can have the matching clip-on earrings for the necklace.’
Belinda managed to keep the laughter out of her voice as she reached across and shook Issy’s hand. ‘Deal!’
She paid the girls the three dollars and fifty cents, enjoying the joyful expression on Annie’s face at getting quite a bit more than the eighty cents she’d been prepared to sell for. Issy was looking quietly satisfied with her bargaining skills. Belinda waited while they opened her tin of pineapple and packed her necklace and earrings into a little brown-paper bag. Once they were all done, she reached into her wallet, pulled out a twenty-dollar note and placed it on the table. The girls’ eyes widened.
‘What’s that for?’ Issy asked in a breathy whisper, dropping her tough demeanour.
‘That? Oh, that’s just your tip.’
As Belinda drove back to the freeway, eating the syrupy tinned pineapple, she’d never felt better about herself. By the time she reached the farm, she was feeling quite serene. Her babies’ regular, rhythmic movements had been good company, the pineapple was sweet and refreshing and the detour – while accidental – had been worth it. She pulled up in front of the farmhouse and took in a deep breath as she saw her mum coming out to meet her.
No turning back now.
The moment she got out of the car her mum gasped. ‘Oh, Belle, sweetheart,’ was all she could say.
As Barbara gathered her into a huge, smothering hug, Belinda couldn’t contain her emotions. She burst into tears. ‘What am I going to do?’ she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder.
Barbara stood back from her and seemed to recover from the shock instantly. ‘The first thing you’re going to do is come in, sit down and have a cup of chamomile tea. Come on, the boys can get your bags and the puppy for you, they’re dying to see it anyway.’
Belinda’s younger brothers, Blake and Brad, flew past her – barely stopping to say hello as they scrambled to get to the puppy first. The elder of the two, Brad, did give her a look, obviously wondering about the size of her stomach, but it clearly wasn’t enough to drag his interest away from the dog. Blake, on the other hand, at just four years old, didn’t even seem to notice. Blake was the Heartford’s surprise ‘bonus’ baby.
Belinda and Barbara were able to have a good, long chat – just the two of them – while they waited for Brett to come back in from working in one of the far paddocks. Belinda told her mum about doing the home pregnancy test a few weeks after Andy’s funeral, about ignoring the results at first, until Stacey had snapped her out of it. Barbara looked on the verge of tears as she heard what Belle had been through, but still managed to hold it together. ‘That sounds like our Stacey,’ she’d interjected at one point. ‘She was always on the lookout for you. Even when you two were kids and you wanted to catch a brown snake and keep it as a pet, she was there to dob you in!’
‘Mum, what’s Dad going to say? I mean we weren’t married yet. He can be a bit of a traditionalist sometimes. Will he be mad with me?’ Belinda chewed her fingernails worriedly.
‘Don’t even think about it; he’ll be fine. Your father and I have always known that the two of you loved each other very much. For heaven’s sakes, you were engaged – that’s close enough, if you ask me.’ Barbara waved her hand dismissively.
Belinda pictured Andy saying a self-satisfied ‘I told you so’. Of course he’d been right: her parents were the most understanding in the world, she was mad to have been so worried about telling them.
‘Thanks, Mum, my babies are going to have the most fantastic grandparents ever.’ Belinda took a sip of her tea, letting the relief wash over her.
‘Umm, babies? Plural? Did I miss something here?’ Barbara looked perplexed and added with a laugh, ‘Surely there’s no other little “baby Belles” running around out there that I don’t already know about?’
Belinda choked on her tea. ‘Oh, shit, I forgot you don’t know that bit yet. I’m pregnant with twins.’
‘That motherfucker!’ Barbara slammed down her tea cup.
‘MUM!’
‘I’m sorry, dear, it just came out. It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.’
‘Where did you even get that from?’ Belinda stared in amazement.
‘It’s that “rap music” that Brad has started listening to. Apparently reaching high school means your music taste has to change rather dramatically. Anyway, I guess I’ve picked up a few new terms here and there.’
‘I guess you have! What did you mean by that anyway?’
‘I really didn’t even mean to say it.’ Her voice softened again. ‘I’m just angry that you’ve been left to do this all on your own. But not with Andy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. But twins, Belle! TWINS! Do you realise how much of a big deal this is?’
‘Yes, actually, that had crossed my mind. But I’m not completely alone. I’ve got you guys, there’s my friends . . . I’ll have lots of help.’
‘Yes, but you know that there’s not a lot we can do for you down there in the city, not with this damned farm that we have to keep running. For goodness sake, we had to leave you straight after the funeral to get back here!’ She stroked Belle’s cheek and gave a slightly guilty look. ‘My poor baby, mourning her fiancé and I couldn’t even be there for you.’ Now she did cry. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She pulled Belinda into yet another suffocating hug.
‘Mum, it’s fine. I’ve always understood you have a responsibility to keep this place running – I grew up here, remember?’
Barbara dabbed at her eyes. ‘Belle, I’ve just had a wonderful idea. You can move back home!’ Her voice began to rise hysterically. ‘YES!
It’s perfect. The farm is the best place to raise those babies, and then we really can help you out.’ She clapped her hands together excitedly, a look of satisfaction on her face.
Belinda had to nip this in the bud. ‘I can’t do it, Mum. My life is in the city now: work, uni, friends – I can’t give it all up. I can’t come back home.’
‘But you do realise that once you’ve got two babies, there’s no way you can keep those things going. What do you expect you’ll do with them while you go to your lectures or your shifts at work? Who’ll look after them? How will you support yourself? I’ve actually been meaning to ask you how you’ve been managing to keep up the rent since Andy died. Now you’ll have two babies to support as well.’
‘Look, uni’s fine. I’ve almost finished my degree anyway. I’ll only have one subject to go once they’re born and I’ll figure something out. Work – yes, I’ll have to take a bit of time off, but there’s child care, right? And money, okay, I’ll admit I’m not in the best position, but I’ve got a bit of savings. I never spent the money that Aunty Katie left me, so there’s that, and I guess I might just have to think about moving somewhere a little cheaper . . . but later. I’m not ready to leave our apartment just yet.’ She turned away, a little embarrassed about this. She wasn’t really sure what her mum would think of her being so sentimental.
Barbara couldn’t hide her disappointment at her daughter’s resistance, but she didn’t have the opportunity to argue any further. There was a deep voice at the door.
‘Looks to me like you’ve got a bit of news for your old dad!’
Belinda smiled as she looked up and saw her father’s tall, angular frame leaning into the doorway, one arm wiping beads of sweat off his forehead and the other swatting away a persistent fly as it buzzed into the room and circled his head.
Once the news had been broken to her dad, and eventually the rest of the family, Belinda was able to relax and enjoy spending some time with them. Becky insisted on driving her all over the farm, showing her the latest changes she’d been making. Becky had just turned eighteen, but appeared to show no interest in moving down to the city as her older sister had done at the same age. She was the most likely candidate to take over the farm from their parents one day, and Belinda felt quite proud of her little sister as she was shown the impressive and innovative updates she’d made to the various different tasks around the farm.
As dusk began to settle, Becky finally drove them back to the house and Belinda headed into the bathroom to wash up before dinner. As she stood at the basin splashing her face, her eyes slid down to the bathtub and a memory sprang to the front of her mind. She sat down on the edge of the bath, closed her eyes, and let herself get drawn right down into that memory.
She saw herself standing in this very spot, trying desperately to do something with her hair, tugging agitatedly at her dress, which just wouldn’t sit right, and scrubbing off her lipstick, which had suited her perfectly the day before, but now seemed to make her look like a garish clown. It was less than five minutes before her engagement party was about to start and she was just having one of those days.
She knew Andy would be getting impatient. He’d want to get out to the marquee and make sure the chairs were set up right, get the bonfire lit and, in particular, check on his mum – who would probably be freaking out about being left on her own, surrounded by ‘country folk’, as Belinda had heard her refer to her family on more than one occasion.
She made one more attempt at scraping her long hair up into a loose bun on top of her head and groaned with frustration when she saw it in the mirror. It looked hideous. That’s when she spotted them: a pair of scissors sitting on the shelf, glinting invitingly at her.
Oh, why the hell not?
She snatched them up and started chopping away at her hair. Before she knew it, she was surrounded by clumps of dark hair and a huge chunk was missing from her long locks, which usually spilled over her shoulders.
Fuuuuck! What was I thinking?!
She collapsed down on the edge of the bathtub, furious with herself. She always got like this. She would think she was doing something fun and spontaneous, get caught up in the moment, all brave and confident – and then she’d crash when she realised it was too late to go back.
I’m going to have to miss my own engagement party, she thought. And then she burst into tears.
A minute later, there was a knock at the door. She ignored it, embarrassed. Andy’s voice called, ‘Hey babe, we should really be leaving. We’re going to be seriously late.’ There was a pause, then he spoke again. ‘Babe? Babe? Are you in there?’ The door handle turned and Belinda looked up to see Andy’s shocked face as he stepped into the bathroom. ‘Fuck, look at your hair! What are you doing?’
‘Nothing, nothing, my hair wouldn’t work. I just wanted to make it work.’
He must think I’m a crazy person.
‘But your beautiful hair. Why did you do that?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t – I just. I had to do something . . . But now look at it.’
Andy stepped forward. She wouldn’t have blamed him if right then he started quizzing her on whether or not her family had a history of mental illness. He sat down next to her on the side of the tub and put an arm around her.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll fix it for you.’
‘Do you really think you can?’ She looked pleadingly up at him.
‘Yeah, of course I can. I can sort this out. Here, give me the scissors. I’ll fix it for you. I love you, okay?’
‘I love you too,’ she replied, handing over the scissors and scrubbing the tears off her cheeks with a face washer.
He took the scissors and swivelled her around so he could see the back of her hair. ‘Okay, it’s really not that bad. What I’m gonna do is just keep cutting so it’s all the same length as this bit you’ve already done. You cool with that?’
‘Sounds good,’ she said in a small voice – she was beginning to feel pretty humiliated about it all.
He started cutting straight across the back of her hair and then asked in a casual voice, ‘So! What made you decide to take a pair of scissors to your hair, hon?’
‘I don’t know. I was just in here getting ready for the party and nothing seemed to be going right. I started thinking that maybe if my hair was different, I could do something better with it.’ She paused and sighed. ‘Stupid, huh? You must be wondering what you’ve got yourself into with me?’
‘Nope, not at all, babe. We all do crazy stuff sometimes. I can’t say I’ve ever done anything quite like this – but I am a guy, so it’s not like I’ve really got enough hair to decide to cut it all off or something like that.’
‘I’m really sorry I’m holding us up so much. And I’m sorry I scared you.’
‘Forget about it. Let’s just call it a diva moment. Couldn’t hack the pressure of being the celebrity of the night and what-not.’
Belinda laughed and wiped her eyes. ‘You know that you’re the best boyfriend – whoops, I mean fiancé – in the world, right? Not many other guys would put up with someone acting this high maintenance.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know I’m a saint. But most of the time you’re pretty easygoing, so dealing with the high-maintenance moments isn’t that bad.’
He had finished cutting the rest of her hair to the same length. She made to stand up and look in the mirror, but he grabbed her and kept her on the tub.
‘Ahh, not quite done yet. I’m just gonna straighten up a couple more bits.’ He paused, then added, ‘Right, so it’s looking a bit . . . umm, shocking, cause of the way it was just hacked off, but I’m thinking if I do that thing your hairdresser normally does, you know, when she turns the scissors straight up and sort of snips at the edges of the hair, maybe that’ll fix the blunt line you’ve got going at the edges here.’
&nbs
p; Well, it can’t get any worse.
‘Go for it. Wow, babe, I never realised you paid so much attention when you’re waiting around for me at the hairdresser,’ she mused. She sat still and waited while Andy worked away at her hair, seeming to take more and more length away by the second.
‘Hey, I’m not too bad at this!’ He turned Belle around to face him and frowned as he examined his work.
‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.
‘Of course I do – I think you’re absolutely amazing for doing any of this.’
‘Good. Because . . . don’t . . . move,’ he said slowly as he used his fingers to pull a section of her hair forward onto her face and then snipped away another huge chunk, giving her a short fringe that ended just above her eyes. He sat back to look at his work and grinned.
‘Belle, you look fantastic!’
‘Are you serious?’ Belinda jumped up and looked in the mirror. She shrieked. ‘Oh, my God, I can’t believe this! You made me look . . . good!’ Her hair was so short it was practically ‘boy length’. He’d given her a nice, definite chunky fringe that was slightly swept to the side of her forehead and he’d left a bit of length in front of her ears, so she had a real pixie look about her. It was the short, messy-sexy style and it really suited her petite face.
She threw her arms around him. ‘I always wanted a haircut like this, but I was never brave enough to get it done!’ She turned back and forth, surveying herself in the mirror. ‘You’ve got some real talent in this department.’
‘Hey, I might not be bad – but not a word to anyone about this. If the guys hear I’ve been playing hairdresser for you I will never hear the end of it.’
The sound of her mother’s voice dragged her back out of the startlingly clear memory. ‘Belinda, dinner in five, sweetheart.’ She silently thanked her mum for returning her to reality, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up from the bathtub, wondering as she did when she had started to cry.
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