White Gum Creek

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  ‘Tash, you know how you said we’d take on another apprentice or baking assistant?’ Alex said as she was closing up the till. ‘Because with all these new orders, I think we’re going to need help as soon as possible. Maybe even more than one person?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I think we should take on an apprentice, but it would be handy if we could have another qualified baker—even if it’s just part-time. Even without this Christmas rush, we’re getting busier and busier. We need to talk about the future.’

  ‘You mean if we stay as we are or expand the business?’

  ‘Exactly! The way I see it, we’re now precisely where you wanted us to be when you took over. The fact that we supply our bread to some of the delis, cafés and now Gilbert Sinclair’s place shows just how far we’ve come. But there’s another side to that. There are only so many loaves we can make in a single day. The short-term solution is that we hire more help. The longer-term decision is something we’re going to have to think about further. The truth is if we get much bigger, The Gumnut will evolve into something very different from what it is now.’

  ‘And you don’t want that?’

  Alex looked at her and shook his head.

  ‘No, I don’t think I do. I don’t want us to become bigger and open another shop. We do this well, Tash, and part of that is because the bakery is part of us, part of our family. It’s more than enough for me. How about you?’

  Tash thought about it for a moment.

  ‘I think you’re right. I just want The Gumnut to be the best bakery in the area.’

  ‘We are. Though I could still do with those extra hands in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ll get right on to it, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you. And, look, I don’t know if we’ll ever re-think opening another shop, but all I can say is that I’m happy the way it is for now.’

  Tash grinned at him.

  ‘So no world domination?’

  ‘Well, not today. But if you really want us to be more than we are, I’ll do it. I’ve always got your back. You took a floundering business and turned it into a profitable one.’

  ‘Thanks, Alex. I think you’re right. We should consolidate what we have and maybe we could look at how we feel in another few years. How does that sound?’

  ‘Pretty damn good, I reckon.’

  ‘Alright, then,’ Tash said. ‘Looks like we’ve got a plan.’

  ***

  Christmas came and Nick had been prepared to be all by himself for another year. Matt had invited him to lunch with him and Bec, but Nick didn’t want to intrude. Christmas was meant to be all about your nearest and dearest and he didn’t want Matt to feel obligated. Besides Bec’s parents would be there and it just didn’t seem right.

  So he declined. Besides, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent Christmas alone before and at least this year he was in a better frame of mind. In the past, Christmas had come and gone and Nick hadn’t even noticed, but this year was different. And just to prove the point he made the effort of not only buying half-a-dozen mince pies from the bakery but shelling out for a Christmas wreath for the caravan door and a squeaky mouse toy for Tabs. Okay, maybe it wasn’t going all out but at least it was something.

  He was just hanging the wreath up when a car pulled up outside the van. Nick frowned as he didn’t recognise the black ute. Much to his surprise Freddy Carmichael clambered out of the driver’s seat and grinned. He was muscular in appearance, no doubt from growing up working on a farm. His blond hair was cropped short and the only thing bigger than Freddy’s grin was his laugh.

  ‘G’day, mate. Or should I say Merry Christmas!’

  ‘Hey, Freddy, what are you doing here? I mean, it’s good to see you,’ Nick said. ‘Oh…and Merry Christmas to you, too.’

  ‘Nice wreath,’ Freddie said with a nod. ‘Though I reckon you’re missing the lights and the carols.’

  Nick shrugged.

  ‘I didn’t really get into the swing of it.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Freddy beckoned him towards the back of his ute. ‘You want to give me a hand with this?’

  ‘Sure.’ Nick was still puzzled as to why Freddy was there, but he ran with it. ‘How can I help?’

  Freddy handed him a large esky.

  ‘Here, take this. I’ll bring the other one.’

  ‘Jeez, what have you got in here?’ Nick said as he started walking towards the caravan.

  ‘Christmas,’ Freddy said. ‘I was sitting at home all by myself and I figured you’d be doing the same thing. So I thought why not be miserable together.’

  Nick held open the door.

  ‘Hey, I’m not miserable.’

  ‘Okay then, I was miserable,’ Freddie said with a grin. ‘I’ve brought us food, drink and Christmas-themed movies to get us into the spirit.’

  ‘Thanks Freddy, that’s really kind,’ Nick said as he lay the esky on the table.

  ‘Aw, don’t go making a big thing about it. I’ve got some cold meat, salads, some prawns and a bit of cake. I figured the weather was too hot for a traditional cooked Chrissy dinner.’

  ‘Good call. I think last time I checked it was about thirty-eight degrees.’

  ‘Come on, then! Crank up the air-con, whack on a movie and let’s eat—I’m starving.’

  Nick smiled as he started to unpack the food, with Tabitha looking on. This was turning out to be the most unexpected, unconventional Christmas he might have ever had.

  ***

  The warmer days seemed to energise Nick. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up eager for what the day might bring. He’d have said excited, but that would have probably been pushing it.

  Just after Christmas he’d gotten it into his head that he needed a list of things to be done around the place. He knew that it would be long, and each day seemed to add another entry. At first he’d been ashamed that he’d dropped the ball and let things get out of hand, but that soon gave way to the feeling that he could turn the farm around.

  Money was tight, so he had to prioritise, but some of the jobs only needed a few nails and some elbow grease. Other projects were going to take more effort. The shearing shed was an example of that—half of the floor needed replacing, as did the holding pens beside it.

  Nick was stretching his money as far as it could go. He wasn’t broke, but life was going to be frugal until he started helping out Mr Pettigrew with the wood as soon as the summer had ended. It was a good thing that he didn’t need much to survive.

  Nick had been mentally congratulating himself on finding almost enough wood to fix the shearing shed floor when things started to go wrong. There had been some wood left over from when he’d been building the house. The words left over weren’t exactly true—he’d been in the middle of building it when Sophie died, and then all work stopped. Nick had been standing in what would have been the master bedroom, staring at all the wood still stacked in the corner. The timber was all different sizes, but there was enough there to do the job. There was enough there, too, for the stumps as well as new beams and bracing. He’d only have to buy a few new floorboards.

  It was the obvious plan—use what he already had—but still Nick hesitated. He told himself that he was being crazy, that the house would never be finished and no one would ever live there. The dream was dead. He forced himself to pick up the first piece of timber and hoisted a plank up on his shoulder. It was time, at last, to move on.

  The real challenge came during the last week of December when a summer storm blew out of nowhere. The heavy rain was a blessed relief from the heat and because it would replenish the dams and water tanks, but the gusting winds were merciless. The wind roared through the town and all the way up to Winters Hill, tearing away tin rooves and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. The storm had caused a lot of damage, including bringing down a couple of gumtrees just outside the church.

  As Nick stood looking at the hole in his main shed roof, he reckoned he’d got off lightly compared to som
e of his neighbours. But that didn’t help. He had to come up with the money to fix the roof.

  A couple of pieces of tin had been blown off the roof and Nick had spent some time trying to find them. One had been buckled beyond saving and the other had disappeared altogether. He wondered if he’d eventually find it when the small dam dried up at the end of summer.

  Nick walked back from the shed and tried to work out what he was going to do. There was some money, he wasn’t going to go hungry and neither were the animals, but he had to be careful. He kept walking until he found himself once again staring up at the shell of the unfinished house. It loomed over him, reminding him of all he’d lost. A while ago Matt had suggested that maybe it was time to tear the place down. It did no good, if anything it’s presence caused harm. Nick had thought about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. By taking the house down, wouldn’t he be trying to forget why he had started to build it in the first place?

  His eyes travelled along the bones of the house and settled on the tin roof, aware of the prickle of an idea. The main shed was important. It housed everything from his tractor, chainsaw and tools—the few he had, anyway—as well as some of the baled hay. Everything in that shed helped Nick keep the farm going and it needed to be kept dry and safe. Even when the vandals sprayed graffiti on his sheds, they never went near this one. It was close to the caravan, and Nick always figured they might be cheeky but didn’t want to press their luck when it came to getting caught.

  What was more important: keeping the past alive or preserving the present?

  Nick took a deep breath before he turned and started walking back to the shed. This time his steps were more purposeful—he’d need the ladder, a hammer and a screwdriver if he was going to take the tin off the house’s roof.

  ***

  Determination became part of Nick’s vocabulary over the next week. He had been determined to fix the shed roof, the shearing shed’s floor had been renovated, and his sights were on the holding pens next. He also had a notion of doing some summer planting as his veggie patch had grown a bit scraggly over the past couple of years. This year would be different as he’d recycled some wood and built three raised beds. There was always something satisfying about eating what you’d grown yourself, and maybe he was just imagining it, but Nick swore it always tasted better than anything from the shop. A smile tugged at his mouth as he stood back and surveyed his handiwork. The enthusiasm about the prospect of a new garden must have gone to his head because as soon as he’d finished building the boxes he painted them as well. It was probably the first time in a while he hadn’t cringed when he went to grab the can of paint from the shed.

  On Saturday, he jumped into his ute and drove up to Bendigo to the nearest nursery. It was refreshing to get out and see the countryside. After spending so much time at home he forgot sometimes how a change of scenery could do you the world of good. The low hills that undulated on both sides of the highway were brown with a patch of grey-green. The last storm had been enough for a few plants to hang onto life. Most of the land was tinder-dry; if a fire started now it would sweep over the hills, pushed on by the dead undergrowth. It wouldn’t be the first time, and as Nick drove over Big Hill there were telltale signs of where the last fire had scorched the bush. Even now the blackened saplings were still visible by the edge of the road. The landscape was dotted with gums clinging on the edges of half-dry dams and creeks, while the sun beat down from an endless blue sky.

  He drove into the car park at the nursery, pulled into the nearest spot and grabbed his list off the dashboard. He’d done some research online just to make sure he wasn’t buying the wrong plants. There was a lightness in his step as he walked through the nursery doors. He breathed in the scent of green and living things and realised that he was enjoying his outing more than he thought possible.

  With his list in hand, he took a trolley and wandered through the rows of flowering plants until he found the vegetable section. He started filling the trolley with seedlings. He’d already found beans, beetroot, pumpkin, carrots and English spinach, and was debating whether to add leeks or onions or both when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

  He turned his head and saw Jules smiling back at him.

  ‘Hi Jules, what are you doing here?’ He winced. ‘I mean…it’s good to see you.’ Yeah, rambling was always a surefire way to impress a woman. Maybe impress wasn’t the right word but he knew he didn’t want to come across as a babbling idiot either.

  ‘Hi Nick,’ Jules said. ‘Matt decided that he wanted to buy a new barbecue. Apparently the one he’s got isn’t big enough. He’s mulling over his decision, and I thought I’d come and grab some herbs.’

  ‘Matt’s here?’

  ‘Yep, in the barbecues and fire pit section.’ She gestured over her shoulder. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘It is time to whip the veggie patch into shape. I’ve just finished building some raised beds but I need plants for them.’

  Jules leaned in a little closer to inspect his trolley and Nick could smell the light fragrance of her perfume. It was floral and fresh, and fitted in well with this place.

  ‘I think you need these as well,’ she said, tossing in a punnet of seedlings. ‘Capsicums—oh and these too.’

  ‘Alright, if you think so.’

  ‘Are you buying herbs as well?’

  ‘That was the plan.’

  ‘Great, let’s do it together.’

  Jules linked her arm through his. It felt good, and Nick didn’t pull away. Instead he happily walked by her side as they went to find some rosemary and basil. He’d forgotten what it was like to be this close to a woman and his heart seemed to beat a bit faster. Nick glanced down at Jules. She wasn’t looking at him as her attention was on a display of colourful pots of flowers but in that moment something inside him shifted and he couldn’t help smiling.

  ***

  Nick sat back in the deck chair. It was a hot Sunday afternoon and he found it difficult to move. A large blowfly buzzed by; he could barely raise a hand to shoo it away. He’d eaten a late lunch with Matt and Jules. Matt served his favourite, spicy chicken kebabs with several different salads. Nick knew that he’d eaten too much, but it had been so good he couldn’t stop himself. The heat of the afternoon seemed to permeate his entire body, which, along with the food, made him drowsy. There was a slight breeze under the verandah and all Nick wanted to do was nod off. He was aware of Jules sitting beside him, the warm air scented with her perfume. As lazy Sunday afternoons went, this one was pretty perfect.

  Jules stirred and with a sigh, she sat up.

  ‘Well, this isn’t getting me home.’

  ‘Do you have to go?’ Matt asked without opening his eyes. ‘You could stay another night. I mean, you don’t have class anymore.’

  ‘True, but I have things to do. So, no, I can’t stay, no matter how tempting that is right now,’ Jules said. ‘And sitting here isn’t going to get me home sooner.’

  Nick sat up and stretched.

  ‘I swear if I stay here much longer, I’ll drift off.’

  ‘Sundays have that effect,’ Matt said.

  ‘Well, I’m grabbing my stuff and getting out of here. Otherwise, Bec will come back and find us all asleep.’

  Jules stood up. Nick watched as she disappeared back inside the cottage.

  ‘I suppose I’d better get moving too,’ he said.

  ‘What’s the hurry?’

  Nick shrugged. ‘I’ve loads to do, too.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Nick said with a grin. ‘But I’m sure the cat will tell me when I get back.’

  Matt laughed and finally opened his eyes.

  ‘She’s got you well trained, then?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ This time Nick managed to get to his feet.

  ‘You might as well take some of this food back with you,’ Matt said. ‘I’ll grab a container.’

  Nick followed Matt back into the kitchen. They filled up a couple
of containers with salad, olives, and cheese, but as Nick was reaching for the pear tart, Jules walked in. She was carrying her backpack and overnight bag.

  ‘That was quick,’ Matt said.

  ‘You know I don’t mess around,’ she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Okay, and don’t forget to give me a ring when you get back home.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ she said with a grin. ‘See you later, Nick.’

  ‘Bye, Jules. Have a safe trip.’

  With a wave, she was out the door. Nick stood at the counter. He was looking at the pear tart, but that was the last thing on his mind. Jules had been on his mind ever since the other day at the nursery. Over the past twenty-four hours or so he’d been replaying the event over and over again. Walking around with Jules on his arm had caused a seismic shift within him. On some level a once locked door had sprung open and if he only had the courage to seize the opportunity his life may alter forever. After another minute slipped by he glanced at Matt and hurried after her, ignoring Matt’s smirk.

  ‘Jules, can I talk to you for a sec?’ he said at the back door.

  Jules turned around and gave him a smile.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’ll come out with you.’

  ‘Alright.’

  He followed Jules towards her car.

  ‘So, what’s up?’ she asked as she dumped her bag on the bonnet.

  For a moment Nick didn’t know what to say. All of a sudden any courage he’d managed to garner fled.

  ‘Nick?’

  He leaned against the car next to her. He could smell her perfume again, and it reminded him so much of a spring day.

  ‘I was just wondering…I mean…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I thought maybe, if you wanted we could go out sometime—you know, dinner or something like that.’

  ‘Sure. I think I’d like that,’ Jules said with a growing smile.

  ‘What, really?’

  ‘Yeah, really. I’d like to go with you for dinner. Maybe next week sometime, if that’s okay with you?’