by Kaye Dobbie
And it had occurred to me that there was also another celebrity who might fit the bill. If he agreed.
Would Lincoln Nash be willing to sing one of his songs for Estelle? One of the old songs would be my preference, but I couldn’t really say that to his face. And if I told him that Hope was going to be appearing as well, and there’d sure to be publicity … He’d shown he was willing to do almost anything to get his songs heard, so how could he say no?
It might even be something Looking Back itself would be interested in. Famous actress with a heart of gold? And then there was Jason. With his move up here, and his high profile, surely it would be good publicity for him, too? I could see all sorts of reasons for him to want to take part.
Whoa, steady girl. I wasn’t even certain that any of these people would agree to my plans—probably they wouldn’t—but it seemed too good an opportunity not to try. Estelle needed the money, and this would also highlight the good work she was doing, so I was going to do my darndest to help her.
My original plan for the day had been to start working on my ideas for Jason’s garden, but I told myself I could do that a bit later. It was still early. Why not make an approach on Estelle’s behalf to one of those celebrities right now?
So I climbed into my rust bucket again, and turned right, humming along with the wind in my hair until I reached the long narrow road that led to the cottage on Willow Tree Bend.
What if he isn’t home?
I told myself I wouldn’t be disappointed if he wasn’t. I’d just turn around and go home again. It wasn’t a big deal and I wouldn’t burst into tears or anything like that, I mean I could be philosophical about it …
He was home.
I was nearly at the cottage now, and I could see him standing by the old willow tree. My mother used to talk about that tree, how it was a special place for her and Hope. The spot where all their secrets were shared, during the years when they still shared secrets. Clearly, they didn’t share all their secrets or Hope would know what was going on with her sister now.
I slowed the ute and drew up opposite him.
He was frowning in a way that would scare away most visitors. I almost spun my tyres and drove off again, but then he recognised me through the windscreen. And smiled.
Well, that was a good sign, wasn’t it?
I waited as he walked over to the vehicle, and I looked up at him through the open window, narrowing my eyes against the brilliance of the sun in the cloudless blue sky.
‘Samantha,’ he said.
‘Lincoln.’
‘Creek is almost completely dry,’ he said tersely, as if to explain what he was doing. ‘Even the few pools of water I saw a couple of days ago are nearly gone. We need rain.’
I couldn’t disagree with that.
‘Do you think the tree will survive without water?’ he asked, turning back to inspect the willow.
‘It’s old and it’s lived this long, and there have been quite a few droughts. Willows are good at finding water, that’s why they’re considered bad for the environment. They’re an introduced species and they compromise native plants. Although this one has been here ever since I can remember, and my grandmother said it was here when my grandfather was a boy, too, so I think it deserves some respect.’
He nodded, admiring the lush green foliage. Despite the heat and the drought, the willow appeared to be thriving. After a moment his shoulders relaxed. ‘You run a gardening business,’ he said, turning back to me and fastening me with those fascinating grey eyes. ‘Green Dreams, is that right?’
So, had he been checking up on me, or gossiping with the locals? I wouldn’t have put it past Suzy to have filled him in.
‘That’s right. I’m available if you need any help with the garden, although,’ and I smiled in what I hoped was an encouraging manner, ‘you seem to be doing pretty well. I’ve never seen it look so good.’
‘Ah. I’ve had a lot of spare time over the past year.’ He hesitated, staring back down the dusty road with its narrow strip of bitumen, and then the words just seemed to pour out of him. ‘My last album didn’t sell so well. For a while the record company was hedging its bets so I hoped …’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway. About six months ago they finally dumped me. That was when I turned to gardening and welding scrap metal.’
‘Oh.’ I wondered if that might explain the incident in the hardware store. Not that I was forgiving him entirely, but if he’d just had some bad news then I could sympathise.
There was an awkward silence, and I wasn’t sure whether to ask questions and offer support, or simply skip over it.
He gave me a sideways glance, and I realised he wasn’t feeling too comfortable either. He was probably wondering if he’d revealed too much, or been too vulnerable. Or maybe he just didn’t share all that often.
‘I, uh, didn’t realise,’ I said. ‘I hear your new stuff quite a bit, so I’d assumed it was doing well.’
‘I think everyone wanted me to write songs like I used to in the old days with Black Crow. But I’m older and I’ve changed, so naturally my music has changed. I can’t pretend to be the same, and I think if I tried it would come across as phoney.’ He was looking directly at me now.
I really hoped Suzy hadn’t told him that I was his greatest fan, and if she had I might just have to kill her.
‘I was one of the ones who liked your old stuff,’ I admitted, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘But I can understand why you might want to move on.’
He shrugged, seeming to relax a bit. ‘Anyway. The gardening helped. I’m no expert as you can probably tell, but I enjoyed it. The bad things don’t seem so overwhelming when you’re out in the fresh air, your hands in the earth, and the birds singing. Now I just have to keep everything alive until this summer is over.’
‘It’s been hard on everyone. I see you, sometimes, from my place.’ I pointed vaguely in that direction. ‘If I’m in the right spot at the right time.’
Oh God, that sounded awful. As if I was purposely training a telescope on him, watching his every move. I waited for him to tell me to leave his property and never return.
Instead he nodded. ‘Is that your house over there? I hear the donkeys if the wind’s blowing my way.’
I smiled, not sure what else to say. I certainly didn’t know how I was going to ask for that favour for Estelle, not now.
‘Would you like a coffee?’
I looked at him, trying to decide whether he was being polite, but as far as I could tell he seemed to genuinely want company.
‘Okay. Thanks.’
I turned off the engine. He opened the door of the ute, and I climbed out and followed him up to the cottage. Once again his feet were bare, and the hems of his jeans were ragged. Not that he didn’t fit them nicely, but neither did he look anything like my teenage version of Lincoln Nash. This man had been through hard times as well as reached the heights. He was complicated and complex, far more like a real person than the faded fantasy I had been hanging on to.
At least I was scrubbed and neat this time, in my shorts and the faded blue shirt that I used to think matched my eyes. Maybe I’d turn his preconceptions on their head, too.
‘Did you say you made this yourself?’ I paused at the gate, admiring the dancing crows. ‘It’s pretty good. I’m surprised people haven’t been pestering you for their own copies.’
He smiled. ‘They have. Don’t laugh, but recently I’ve made more money from my metal work than my songs.’
Up on the verandah Lincoln’s cat was waiting to give me a dirty look, and I was glad I hadn’t brought Mitch with me this time. As he showed me inside the cottage it followed at our heels, obviously keeping a close eye on me, and I tried not to feel as if I was under review.
‘I wanted to apologise about the other day,’ I began hastily, glancing sideways at the cat, but if I’d expected it to be nodding with approval I was wrong. It had jumped onto the kitchen windowsill and was cleaning its paws. ‘It was all a bit much, but that was no
excuse for the family meltdown.’
He looked surprised. ‘You don’t need to apologise. That scene was nothing, believe me.’ He didn’t elaborate—evidently he was finished confiding. ‘Anyway, your aunt seems like a nice person.’
I bit back my initial reaction. She was a nice person. I’d discovered that for myself. It was just that I didn’t quite trust her, not yet. Oh, I believed her when she said there was nothing between her and my father, but that didn’t mean she was telling me the whole truth about every single thing. But then neither was I.
‘She’s staying with me,’ I volunteered. ‘I hardly know her, but maybe I know her a bit better now.’
He turned, a teaspoon and a coffee jar in his hand. ‘Ah, I think I have to apologise to you. I think you were the girl I was a jerk to in the hardware store.’
I met his eyes and he must have seen his answer there.
‘Just had some bad news about the album,’ he said, ‘although that’s no excuse. You were being polite.’
‘I didn’t think you’d remembered me.’ I was surprised and rather impressed. ‘Maybe you recognised the boots,’ I added with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. ‘They are pretty disreputable.’
‘No, not the boots,’ he said, and his gaze slid over me before he turned away. Was he blushing? I thought about asking why and then decided it might be better not to know.
There was a faint beeping sound, and I noticed the handset was off the phone on the wall. ‘Your phone—’ I began, but he’d reached across and put it back in place.
‘Someone called me last night. It was late and I was asleep. She woke me up to ask me to sing for some charity thing, at least I think that was what she wanted. I stood here yawning and she took ages to get to the point. I was on the verge of hanging up several times. She seemed like the sort of person who might ring back. I’ve had a few like that.’
He looked so annoyed that my heart sank. And yet I had promised myself that I would help Estelle, and I wasn’t a coward. At least, not all the time.
‘Um, actually, I think that was Estelle.’
He set down my coffee mug on the table in front of me and gave me a direct look. The pieces seemed to connect in his brain and I heard him sigh. ‘That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’
‘Partly.’
He leaned back against the sink, holding his own coffee, and I wondered if he was deciding whether or not to throw me out. ‘Go on, then,’ he said at last, to my relief, ‘tell me what it’s about. I didn’t know she was a friend of yours, she didn’t mention it. I might have been a bit short with her.’
Estelle probably didn’t even notice, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. A bit of guilt might work in my favour.
As I launched into an explanation of Estelle’s situation, he listened, and then eventually sat down opposite me, still listening. He didn’t interrupt, and when I’d finished I played around with the teaspoon in the sugar bowl, not wanting to meet his eyes.
‘I’m not sure I’d be much of a draw card for her,’ he said. ‘As I said, most people have forgotten me, or they’re happy to tell me they don’t like what I’m doing now.’
‘You could sing some of your new stuff and your old stuff,’ I suggested. ‘I mean, how could it hurt? I know you won’t get paid, but Hope has agreed to it, too. Well, I expect she will. I haven’t asked her yet.’
Why was I always so honest? And why was he laughing at me? I pretended not to notice, sitting up straighter and giving my voice the firm, professional note I used on clients who couldn’t make up their minds.
‘I’m anticipating I can get someone else on board, too. He’s a chef, and he’s opening up a restaurant outside Golden Gully.’
‘Jason Miller?’ he said, and chuckled.
He knew him, I realised with surprise, although I shouldn’t be. It was a small world.
‘You have been busy. So, it’s going to be big, then?’
The laughter seemed to be leaking out of his eyes and the corners of his mouth, and for a moment I was too captivated to reply. Which was not good. Not good at all.
‘I hope so. She needs my help. Estelle has a heart of gold, but she’s not the most practical of people. Doug, her husband, is working away most of the week through necessity, not because he wants to. If he could give up his job and stay home, I think it would be so much better for them. There are a few dedicated volunteers and she’s been trying to turn the place into a commercial enterprise, balance the books, but it’s tricky to do that when people keep handing over more animals in need, and she doesn’t have the heart to refuse.’
‘I can see that.’ There was that gleam in his eyes again, as if he found me a laugh a minute. ‘Do you volunteer?’
‘I … well, not as such, but I do have a few animals of my own.’ I said it awkwardly, pretending not to see his amusement.
‘The donkeys?’
‘Yes. And I’ll have you know I am the proud owner of a young turkey called Gobble. Don’t you dare laugh.’
He bit his lip, cleared his throat, and made his face sober again. But his smiling eyes gave him away.
‘Okay. It sounds like a worthy cause, just give me some time to think it over.’
‘Of course. And just so you know, she’s planning it for February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day.’ I rose to my feet. He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected me to leave quite so soon, but he’d said he would consider it. I thought that was probably as good as it was going to get.
‘How do you know Jason?’ I asked, just for something to say, as he walked me back to my vehicle.
‘A couple of years ago he did some catering for a promotion the record company had arranged.’
‘What do you think of the house he and Derek have bought? Have you seen it?’
‘Yes. I’m not sure I’d want to take it on.’
He dug his hands into his jeans pockets. ‘I think it’s a test of some sort. They broke up once before. This is a way of them spending more time together and trying to sort out their problems.’
‘Yep.’
He looked at me and grimaced. ‘You don’t think it’s going to work?’
‘Honestly? I don’t know. I don’t know Jason that well, we’ve only just met, but I thought I detected a few doubts. I … well, I can’t talk. I’ve never been able to keep a relationship together for longer than five minutes. It just feels like a lot of stress if they aren’t both on the same page.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. He gave me a look that was almost shy, and quite unexpectedly it occurred to me that the image he’d projected all those years ago, the wild party boy up for anything, was completely wrong.
I’d had no intention of asking him, really I hadn’t, but somehow the words just happened.
‘Hope is arranging dinner tonight. An old-fashioned family barbecue. Would you like to come? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.’
He seemed to be considering the invitation, as if he was afraid it might bite him, or maybe he was like a child, contemplating taking some nasty medicine because he knew it would do him good in the long run. ‘Okay. I suppose I … Thanks. What time?’
‘Oh … six, I guess.’ I started to give him directions and then stopped. ‘You know where it is. Over there,’ I said, pointing.
He waited while I climbed into the ute and then stood, his hand on the roof, looking down at me through the open window. Something about his stillness made me wonder once more what he was thinking, but he had one of those faces that was difficult to read if he didn’t want you to.
‘Any requests?’ he said.
‘Requests?’
‘For this fundraiser.’
‘So, you’re saying yes?’ I couldn’t help the happiness that bubbled up inside me. Wait until I told Estelle! But I was lying to myself. It wasn’t Estelle who was going to be over the moon about this, it was me.
‘I guess I am. Why not? What else have I got to do? And there’s something I’ve been working on that I’d like to try out. Just
to see what people think. With any luck they won’t hate it too much.’
‘Could you sing “Dark Star”?’ I spoke the words before I could stop myself, and then felt my face heat up.
His gaze slid over me, amused, interested. ‘I don’t usually sing it these days. It’s been so overdone. But …’ He seemed to be make up his mind. ‘Sure. For you.’
‘Thank you.’ I still couldn’t look at him, but as I drove away I could see him in my rear-view mirror, standing and watching me. And then he turned and walked back to the cottage. And all the time my heart was pounding and I was breathing hard, and I knew I was in trouble.
Stupid, I told myself. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, I was a grown woman with responsibilities. This was just … stupid. I mustn’t allow myself to be drawn into a dead-end relationship, not again. I had too much going on right now, and this was just, well, completely and totally inappropriate.
No, definitely not, Samantha!
And yet … Lincoln Nash wasn’t the man I’d thought he was. He was a long way from that teenage vision I’d had of him. This Lincoln was a real person. Not loud or full of his own importance. He was someone I would have to work hard to get to know.
But instead of putting me off, that made me want to know him all the more.
HOPE
15 January 2000, Golden Gully
Hope strode down the path that was bordered by garden beds of pink and green succulents—surely Sam had been at work here?—coming to a halt only as she reached the gate. The sun felt all the hotter after sitting in Lily’s air-conditioned rooms. Her mother had already closed her front door, and was probably returning to her comfortable armchair. Or was she looking out of her window, thinking the worst?
‘It’s as if you ran away and now you’ve forgotten. But we’re still here and we can’t forget.’
Hope looked over her shoulder, but the glare on the glass panes made it impossible to see anything apart from her own reflection. She hadn’t expected their ‘talk’ to turn into an exhausting rummage through the past, much of which she had been trying to hide from for years.
