Standing Strong

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘So, tell me what’s going on.’ The fact he almost sounded like Jacqueline wasn’t lost on Damien. In different circumstances it would have made him chuckle, but the thought just made him feel bluer. If only she were here, doing this, with him. What did he know about dealing with a sad young girl who did not want to give her horses and emu up but apparently had to? His enterprise was animals, not people, though a quiet voice in the far depths of his mind told him he was dealing with people at the old folks’ home every Wednesday. And that if it weren’t for people, the animals wouldn’t be needing the likes of him.

  ‘I have to give them up,’ the girl croaked. ‘I don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice.’

  ‘Look. Let’s just go back a bit. Start at the start. I’m Damien. And that’s Squish,’ he said, nodding and trying to offer a warm smile. But he was really too tired to manage warm and what he actually offered was probably more along the lines of tight.

  ‘I know who you are. I’m Alice. I’m sorry about all this, but I just thought I’d drop them off.’ A new round of tears began.

  ‘I don’t think you’re in much of a state to drive,’ Damien said kindly. ‘It’s not safe.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So what’s going on? Are you sure you want to surrender them? I mean, are you sure you have to? Is there really no other option?’

  Alice shook her head and gulped back tears.

  ‘Do you want to tell me the whole story? Maybe there’s another way. Or maybe it might just help to tell someone.’

  ‘You’re being so kind,’ Alice said. ‘I feel terrible.’

  ‘Of course you do. It’s a tough decision.’

  ‘Not only that. You don’t know who I am, do you?’

  ‘No. Should I?’ Damien frowned. ‘You work in the supermarket. You served me earlier, right? Have we met before that?’ Damien racked his brain and came up empty, which wasn’t surprising. He couldn’t think straight about anything these days. The alarm on his phone rang in the silence. ‘Sorry, that’s me. Next feed is due,’ he said, getting up and retrieving the box of kittens from the end of his bed and putting it on the table. When he opened the box to find four pairs of bright blue eyes staring up at him, he thought his heart might melt. They’d become quite active of late, scratching about, trying to escape. But now they were a picture of cuteness, all sitting there, still and quiet.

  ‘Oh, aren’t they gorgeous. Can I pat them?’

  ‘Yep. They’d love a cuddle while I get their feeds organised.’ Damien prepared the bottles with formula and then turned around and watched while the kettle boiled. Alice’s tears had stopped, the tension in her features had eased, and she had a smile on her face as she held the four tiny bundles of fur to her chest, watched on closely by Squish. Damien felt himself choke up. He was overtired. This was what it was about. If only all the troubles in the world could be solved so easily. Perhaps they could – look what Squish had done for him. If only more humans could put their own problems and issues aside to appreciate and take care of those who couldn’t take care of themselves.

  Damien got a flashback to a time his parents had discussed selling one of Lucy’s horses and her staunch vow to never speak to them again if they did. He remembered it had been his father pleading with his mother to keep the horse. It hadn’t been successful enough at the recent show; that’s what horses had been about for Tina – competition, not fun. It really was no wonder Lucy had no interest in horses these days. The horse had stayed and eventually passed away in the paddock from old age, if he remembered correctly.

  The kettle burbled and then clicked off. He finished the bottles and tested their temperature against his top lip, like Auntie Ethel had taught him. It was just a habit, really, because he had it all down to a fine art.

  ‘So, you were about to tell me the whole story when these little guys rudely interrupted,’ he said softly when she’d handed the kittens back and they were in their box and busy with their bottles.

  Alice took a deep breath. Damien was pleased to see she was calmer and seemed to have run out of tears. She stroked Squish, who was back in her lap.

  ‘Oh, and where am I meant to know you from, other than the supermarket yesterday?’

  ‘You don’t know me and I doubt you’ll want to, but I know you.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Damien blinked and frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘My mum is sleeping with your stepdad. Well, she was.’

  ‘Please don’t call him that. He’s just the dickhead my mother married. Nothing to do with me,’ Damien found himself saying.

  ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t be here. You have every right to not want to help. But …’

  ‘Now hang on. Firstly, I’m sure you have about as much chance of telling your mother how to behave as I do – Buckley’s. They are their own people. And if Geoff couldn’t keep it in his pants, well … Sorry, that’s a bit rude of me.’

  Alice waved his embarrassment and apology aside.

  ‘Look, what I’m saying is that we have no control over what other people do, we just have to manage the fallout as best we can.’ Again Damien was reminded of Jacqueline. They weren’t her words, he didn’t think, but it was along the lines of what she’d advise. Well, he thought so. God, how he ached for her, even just to hear her kind, practical advice. ‘What I want to know is why you have to give up your horses when you clearly don’t want to.’

  ‘Geoff’s dumped my mum, her name’s mud in town, and now we’ve both lost our jobs. I think we’ll have to move back to the city. I can’t afford to keep the horses.’

  The situation struck Damien as odd yet so typical of the way things worked out here. It was all well and fine for the good people of the district to turn a blind eye to a straying husband, but now that he’s been found out by his wife they pull rank and punish the one who – they think – led him astray. Of course they would be siding with Tina, she was a landowner. Geoff was a retired shearer and had little to no standing. Damien felt his blood boil at the fact that poor Alice was here in front of him, facing losing her horses all because of his mother and the dickhead she’d chosen to marry.

  ‘Right,’ Damien said, trying to both simmer down and buy time while he sorted through the details. He longed to be helpful. God knew, Alice was relying on him. He drummed on the table with his fingertips.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ Alice said, gathering herself. ‘If I’d just kept my mouth shut … I should get going. Do you have yards I can put them?’ Damien noticed her chin was wobbling again and her eyes brimming.

  Damien blinked. ‘Hang on, what did you say? What do you mean, kept your mouth shut? About what?’ Damien had the awful feeling he was about to hear something he didn’t want to hear. ‘What, exactly, is all your fault?’

  ‘Everything.’ Alice brought her hands to her face just as a new flood of tears began.

  Damien waited her out. He didn’t really have much choice – there was nothing he could say.

  ‘If I’d just kept my mouth shut, kept out of his way,’ she muttered through the sobs.

  ‘Did Geoff do something to you, Alice?’ he asked. He felt as if he had both hands over his eyes and his ears. He didn’t want to know, but he felt he needed to, and Alice probably needed him to. He’d failed Lucy – back then and again yesterday. He’d apologise to his sister, beg for forgiveness, when he got the chance. Not that he deserved it. Remembering Lucy telling him their mother had laughed at her allegation made his blood boil all over again. God, he wanted to throttle Tina. It was damned lucky for her she was over six hundred kilometres away. If she’d taken Lucy seriously, then Alice might not be sitting here now. Somehow he needed to help her to make some sort of amends. And listening to her was a start. Again he was reminded of Jacqueline – God, he wished she’d get out of his head – and how much talking to her had helped him through a very, very dark period. His memory flickered to the gun and the incident in the shed. He shuddered and banished the image.

  ‘I’m sorry, you’ve probably
got heaps to do. I should be going,’ Alice said, making to get up again.

  Damien knew she was torn – felt the need to leave and not burden anyone, but the desperation to be unburdened. A problem shared is a problem halved; it was true, as he knew only too well. Had Alice’s mother laughed at her too?

  ‘Just tell me where to …’

  ‘I’ve got nothing on. And I’m not letting you drive anywhere when you’re so upset.’ God, I sound about sixty. ‘Do you want me to call your mum, or something?’ he added helplessly.

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘I need a coffee. Do you want one? Or perhaps tea or Milo, or hot chocolate. Have you eaten, do you want some toast?’

  ‘Coffee would be great, thanks. Just white with one. But I don’t want to …’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind the company, to be honest. You’d be doing me a favour. My mother has got me into a pickle of my own, actually.’ Damien was a little shocked at his candour. ‘It seems our pickles are in the same jar.’ He couldn’t help smiling wanly, and was pleased to see Alice do the same, rolling her eyes at his attempt at humour.

  Damien felt as if Alice was his little sister – he wanted to help her. Part of it, he thought, was that he and his real sister had drifted so far apart. He still cared about Lucy, of course he did, and would do anything for her. Trouble was, he knew nothing about her now she was in London. What did they have in common other than blood and DNA? Nothing; he was just a farmer who lived out in the sticks, planting a crop and harvesting it year after year, dealing with sheep, and always had been. And Lucy was a sophisticated city girl who, he assumed, ate out at fancy restaurants, shopped, and worked in some high-rise office doing something glamorous – he wasn’t exactly sure. He realised with a shock that he’d never shown much interest in her life. He didn’t even know what she actually did for a crust, or even if she currently had a boyfriend – a few had come and gone over the years. Their occasional phone calls had all been about the farm. She’d ask how the season was progressing and, bang, he was off and running. It was a subject he could talk about. Damien didn’t do deep and meaningful, especially with his sister. Though, really, asking what she did for a living and what that entailed and if she enjoyed it was hardly deep and meaningful. He tried to shake the guilt aside.

  ‘Did you go to the police about Geoff?’ Damien blurted. God, he really wasn’t any good at this sort of thing. Where was Jacqueline when he needed her? Should he just get Alice to empty the float and send her on her way with a recommendation to book in to see Jacqueline? Probably, but a part of him wanted to know the details, if she wanted to tell them. Not wanted to, needed to. It was part of his penance for being so clueless, so dismissive when it came to his sister and her interactions with Geoff. Oh, of course he’d seen things. He was now getting very vivid images: the lewd comments, in the sleazy tone, about what Lucy was wearing; Geoff’s gaze raking up and down her figure while he licked his lips. Damien’s stomach turned and he almost gasped when the scene of the last Christmas Lucy had been home surfaced. She was taking two large platters of food to the table. Geoff had leapt up to unburden her – ever the gentleman – but now Damien clearly saw in his mind’s eye Geoff’s hand deliberately brushing Lucy’s breasts. Jesus. How could I have been so disloyal?

  Damien felt so disappointed with himself, so ashamed, that his face coloured. Even though it would be too little, too late, he owed his sister a massive apology. But not nearly as big as the one his mother owed her. He didn’t think Tina could have hurt Lucy more, if she’d tried. She should probably be grateful her daughter spoke to her at all.

  ‘No. He didn’t really do anything much,’ Alice said with a shrug, bringing Damien back to the conversation. ‘He was too clever.’

  ‘I don’t mean to pry, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what did he do?’

  ‘Tried to cop the odd feel, squeeze past at the bench and brush my butt or breasts. You know, the sort of things you’d tell yourself you imagined? So many times I just thought I was being paranoid. And he had a way of looking at me – not really looking at me, you know, in the eye, but kind of looking me up and down. And a few times I saw him licking his lips while he did. Just creepy stuff.’

  ‘But it made you feel uncomfortable. That’s no way to live.’

  ‘God, he made my skin crawl,’ Alice said, shuddering.

  ‘So did you tell your mum? And did she, um, believe you?’

  ‘Yes. Eventually. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for them breaking up. She really did love him.’ Alice looked at Damien a little sheepishly. ‘God knows why. I love my mum, but he belonged to someone else. She should never have gone near him.’

  ‘So what did she say? When you told her?’

  ‘That no man was worth her daughter feeling uncomfortable in her own home,’ Alice said with clear pride. ‘Huge relief. It could have gone either way. Plenty of mothers might have thought I was just attention seeking or something.’

  ‘Hmm.’ It was all Damien could say as he dealt with the overwhelming mixture of renewed rage towards his mother, sympathy for his sister, and disappointment and shame towards himself that was assaulting him. What sort of a big brother had he been? Useless. Bloody useless!

  ‘Anyway, even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to ignore catching him peeping through the bathroom keyhole when she came home early the other day.’

  ‘God. That’s terrible!’

  ‘Yeah. But he didn’t see anything. I had him pegged as creepy from the start, just hoped he’d prove me wrong. I always made sure there was nothing he could see through any keyhole. Though that didn’t stop him trying for as long they were together. He’s got patience, I’ll give him that,’ she said with raised eyebrows. ‘Anyway, that’s why I’m here. It all hit the fan, as they say. Mum threw him out, and then we got thrown out. We were on a few acres on the edge of town. Not sure where he went.’

  ‘Back home, I think. He threw my mum out.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault.’ And it’s nothing she doesn’t deserve.

  ‘Thanks so much for this. I feel so much better.’

  ‘I’m glad. Maybe you should go and see Bill, the local copper. He’s a good bloke. Surely there’s a law around what Geoff did – stalking, or something?’

  ‘I’ll think about it, but I don’t want to cause a fuss.’

  ‘Well, it’s up to you.’

  ‘Thanks so much for caring. I really don’t have many friends,’ Alice said shyly.

  ‘What about the horsey set, don’t you all hang out together?’ That’s what it had been like in his sister’s day.

  ‘Nah. I think the pony club closed down and, anyway, I’m not into competition. I had heaps of lessons when I was a kid. But I just have horses because I like them. Ben and Toby out there,’ she said, tossing her head, ‘are the only two I’ve ever owned by myself. I rescued them. They were at a disposal sale, all set to go on the truck. You know, the truck?’

  Damien nodded. He knew all right. His mother had often mentioned the nearest abattoir, Peterborough, when storming inside after a horse hadn’t pulled its weight.

  ‘What about the emu? I’ve got a confession to make – I’m terrified of the bloody things. Got pecked as a kid,’ he said with a shudder.

  ‘Aw, don’t worry about Sam, he’s a sweetie. No idea what his story is, he just turned up one day. I guess you could say he adopted me. But you can see the problem, can’t you? We’ll have to head back to the city, and no city stable – even if I could afford it – is going to want an emu hanging around.’

  Damien wasn’t sure he wanted an emu hanging around either.

  ‘Anyway, I don’t think Ben and Toby would be keen on being pampered horses again. They’re track rejects. And I don’t want to split them up. Which is kind of why I thought you’d be prefect. Because you’re all about the animals – all animals. I know you’ll look after them. I saw the write-up a
bout you in the paper the other week.’ Alice dipped her head and coloured a little.

  ‘Do you ride them? Can they be ridden?’

  ‘Yeah. Quiet as. Do you ride?’

  ‘Nah. Tried it once when my sister was into it. But it wasn’t for me.’ Damien had the strange thought that that was then and now is now. So much had changed. He had changed. Perhaps he might give it a go. It might be nice to wander around the stock, check on the kangaroos on horseback. Except, of course, the shed full of saddles and stuff had been swallowed by the fire. Damn. He drained the rest of his coffee.

  ‘Come on, I think they’re probably keen to be let out by now,’ he said when Alice had finished her coffee.

  As she left the van, Alice seemed suddenly sad again. Damien’s heart wrenched. And then he had an idea. And wanted to belt his head against the van for not having it sooner and putting Alice out of her misery. Though he could barely believe he was about to say it.

  ‘Hey, why don’t you just leave Ben, Toby and Sam here until you’re settled somewhere else? There’s no need to formally surrender them. Maybe you won’t need to go to the city. They’ll be fine here for as long as you need, while your sort yourself out.’ The words came out in a rush. It’s what Lucy would have done. She was a huge animal lover – always had been. Damien had come to the party quite late.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Oh my God. Wow. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  Damien was stunned to have Alice’s arms flung around him suddenly and pulling him into a tight hug, a hug so forceful it nearly knocked him off-balance.

  ‘This means so much to me. Thank you. Seriously,’ she said when she released him.

  ‘No worries. Happy to help.’ He was sorry and a little embarrassed to see tears streaming down her face again, but consoled himself that these might be good tears. And that he was the cause. That thought gave him a warm feeling deep inside.

  Damien stood back by the tailgate while Alice went into the front door of the float to untie the horses. He was surprised to see Sam, the emu, carefully step out of the small door, one long leg and then the other. If he wasn’t frozen with fear, Damien might have laughed at the huge bird, which shook itself, looked around, and then stretched to its full height as if to shed its embarrassment and then assert its superiority. Damien stood rooted to the spot, quivering all over, as the bird walked straight up to him and stared him in the face, beady eyes just inches away. Damien held his breath. Alice popped her head out.