by Di Morrissey
Tango sat in his father’s office at Guneda holding the phone and frowning as he listened to Queenie. ‘Jeez, he hasn’t improved over the years, has he? What a sod. What are you going to do?’
‘What would you do, darling?’
‘Deck the bastard,’ Tango replied promptly.
Queenie couldn’t help smiling. ‘You forget about his in-laws. Camboni would send over several gentlemen to kneecap you, or worse.’
‘You’re right, Mum. Pay the bastard off; get rid of him for good. It’ll be money well spent in the long run, though it’s a bloody shame you have to do it.’
‘Do you think I should ask TR’s advice?’
There was a pause. ‘I don’t think so,’ said Tango carefully. ‘TR is pretty wrapped in things Dingo is doing. It’s like Tingulla and Cricklewood never existed for him. Give him a bit more time. But I’m sure he’d agree with me that you’re doing the right thing.’
Queenie knew Tango was right but his remarks stabbed at her heart. TR had probably relegated her to a life he didn’t recall and, most hurtful, didn’t want to recall. ‘It’s still hard to come to terms with not sharing everything with him,’ she said in a broken voice.
‘Give it time, Mum. It’s all you can do.’
‘How much more time? A year? Five years? What? This is living hell!’ Queenie couldn’t stem the tide of hurt and anger that burst from her.
‘Mum, there’ll come a morning when you’ll wake up and make a decision. To go on or to walk away. Only you will be able to decide that,’ said Tango quietly.
‘I don’t think I have that choice,’ said Queenie sadly. ‘I think TR has already decided.’
Millie was watering the ferns hanging along the verandah when Queenie charged upstairs, changed clothes and left the house. Inside, the phone rang and after a few minutes Ruthie came hurrying out to the verandah.
‘Telephone. I told her the missus was out riding, but maybe you’d better talk to her, Millie,’ she said breathlessly.
‘Who is it?’
‘Some lady called Auntie Maud. I didn’t know we had an Auntie Maud.’
‘Nor did I. Oh well, I’ll see what she wants.’
When Queenie returned from a long hard ride Millie was glad to have some news to distract her with. ‘I bin talkin’ to Auntie Maud. She was tellin’ me ’bout this and that. Anyway she wants to know if she can bring her next mob of kids out to camp back of Tingulla somewhere. Teach ’em the bush ways, you know.’
‘Sure, Millie. I offered that when I first met her. Did she say when?’
‘Nope. I didn’t ask. She said t’tell you the fashion stuff with Raylene is going like a rocket.’
Queenie managed to smile. ‘That’s good. Tingulla Fashions is certainly a mix of personalities.’
‘Maud said Raylene hasn’t changed a bit, in fact she’s changing the princess . . . countess, whatever she is. Dreadlocked her hair.’
‘What!’ Queenie burst out laughing.
‘Yeah, said she told her she was living in the fifties, braided her hair with beads and stuff and the old girl loved it.’
‘Sounds like you and Maudie had quite a chat. I’d better give her a call.’ Queenie was grinning as she threw her hat at one of the arms of the stand and headed for the phone.
‘Oh Queenie, there was one other call.’
Queenie turned back to Millie. ‘Who else?’
‘Mrs Dina Hanlon. “Would you ask Mrs Hamilton to call me back. Thank you very much”,’ mimicked Millie, giving a brief curtsy.
Queenie groaned. ‘Oh, no. What now? More trouble. Millie . . .’
‘I know, I know. I’m putting the kettle on.’ Millie went to the kitchen and Queenie went to her office. What the heck did Dina want? There was only one way to find out. Groaning inwardly, she lifted the phone.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It was sundowner time. Tango was stretched out on a settler’s chair on the verandah at Guneda, a cold beer in his hand, the phone to his ear, his eyes on the sunset.
‘So, Tango, what’s happening?’ asked Saskia. At the other end of the phone she was sprawled out on her bed, the phone stretched the length of its extension cord. Jenni sat in the doorway watching the last rays of the sun filter through the banana and poinciana trees.
‘Well, I’m having a cold beer and watching the sun go down. I miss TR at times like this. What’s new at Harmony Hill?’
‘Er . . . that’s why I rang. I do have a bit of news,’ Saskia started nervously. ‘It’s about Mick. You know he’s up here on holiday . . . I sort of asked him — ’
‘Christ, is he all right? Hasn’t gotten into any strife, has he?’
‘No, no, nothing like that. Let me go back a bit. Remember I told you there was this horse here I reckoned I could train?’
‘Oh, yeah, the old racehorse. Is Mick — ’
‘Tango, just listen,’ said Saskia quickly. ‘I told you I wanted to be a trainer, that I didn’t want any handouts from you, that I wanted to prove to you I could work with horses.’
‘Hang on, Sas, I was prepared to give you a go. You are my little sister.’
‘And that’s just what everyone else would say. Don’t you see, Tango? I have to make my own mark first, then I can use my family.’
‘So, how’re you going to make that mark, Sas?’ asked Tango, dropping his teasing attitude.
‘I’ve worked with this horse. He was a bit broken down but I reckon I’ve sorted him out. Toffee is going like a beauty . . . So the bottom line is,’ Saskia took a deep breath and in a rush said, ‘Jenni and I bought him; a friend — an old trainer — is entering him in the Gold Coast Cup and Mick is riding him.’
There was a stunned silence, then Tango burst out laughing. ‘By God, you know how to wind a bloke, Sas!’
‘You’re not mad?’
‘Mad? I don’t think so. Surprised, I guess.’ Tango took a long sip of his beer. ‘So do you think your horse can beat Ambrosia?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. Mick says it will be close. Now, Tango, Mick wants you to understand he had nothing to do with this. Camboni had hired this other jockey to ride Ambrosia so I figured if Mick thought Toffee was okay, then he’d give me the best possible chance.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. Well, it’s going to be an interesting Cup. I wouldn’t miss it for quids.’
‘Tango, I want to keep this quiet. The horse used to belong to Bannerman, a friend of Colin’s and Camboni’s, and they could just nobble him out of spite.’
Tango laughed. ‘Now you’re talking like a trainer. What does Mum say about all this?’
‘I haven’t told her what I plan yet. I wanted to straighten things out with you about Mick first. Mum saw Toffee when she was here and thought he looked good.’
‘Sounds like we’ll all be ringside. Where’s Jenni? I’d love to talk to her. She done anything like this before?’
‘No, I think we Hanlons have corrupted her. She’s here, I’ll put her on.’ Saskia waved Jenni to the phone.
‘Hi, Tango. Surprise.’
‘Yeah, snap. How come you’re buying racehorses? They must be paying you too much money at that retreat place.’
‘We work for love here, not money,’ joked Jenni. ‘That’s why Saskia and I decided to take the plunge.’
‘And what do you know about racehorses? Do you massage them too?’
‘I don’t know much . . . but I’m learning. Maybe massaging the horse isn’t such a silly idea.’ Jenni grinned at Saskia, giving her the thumbs up. Saskia raised her glass of mango juice.
‘What about me? I wouldn’t mind a massage from you sometime,’ suggested Tango.
‘Ah, you have to earn that . . . by doing something nice for me,’ teased Jenni.
‘You name it. I’m serious,’ said Tango. ‘Really, Jenni, I’d like to see you again. Just the two of us. I’d like to get to know you better.’
‘Why don’t you come up in the next few days and visit Harmony Hill before the Cup?’ suggested Jenni. ‘I�
�ll be your tour guide.’
‘Great, I’d love to. That’s settled then,’ said Tango warmly. ‘You keep an eye on my sister for me in the meantime, will you? I hope she comes through with this — for your sake as well. I don’t want to see her fall on her face here. She doesn’t have to prove anything to me, you know.’
‘She knows that. But she has to prove it to herself, Tango. Then it doesn’t matter what anyone else says,’ said Jenni gently.
‘So, you’re intelligent as well as pretty. I knew there was more than one reason I liked you,’ said Tango, and Jenni could visualise the lopsided grin on his face as he said it. The same smile as TR’s.
‘Tango, I’m really looking forward to seeing you. I’ll put Saskia back on now. Bye.’
‘So, Tango,’ said Saskia, ‘any words of advice for the novice?’
‘I didn’t think you wanted any advice. No, tell you what, Sas, don’t put a lot of money on the race. Save your money . . . just in case.’
‘We don’t need to make a killing on backing Toffee, we’ll have our winnings,’ said Saskia.
‘I like your style, girls. Tell Mick I’ll see him very soon. Good luck, kid. I’m really very proud of you.’
‘Cheers, Tango.’
At the other side of Harmony Hill Colin sat in his office, his briefcase open on the desk beside him. In the school exercise book he wrote down more figures, did some calculations, then leaned back with a satisfied smile. Glancing at his watch, he picked up the phone and dialled interstate.
‘Did the horse arrive from Guneda okay? . . . And everything is set? Right, sounds good . . . The Spook’s riding the favourite? Though it’s being overcautious if you ask me. Ambrosia is a straight up, good horse . . . Okay, okay why take chances indeed. Might even put some of my own money on him.’ Colin gave a light laugh. ‘Yeah, give me the last minute details on the day.’ He hung up. Whistling, he put the book and papers back in his briefcase and snapped it shut.
Queenie had tried to call Dina several times, but no one had answered. As she walked away from the telephone, it began to ring. It was Saskia, calling to tell her the news about Toffee.
‘Sas, that’s so exciting! I can’t believe you’ve done all this. Well, yes I can. You are the independent miss, aren’t you. Well, we’ll all be there with bells on. What did Tango say?’
‘He was surprised, but decent about my asking Mick to ride. Frankly, while Tango did his best in training Ambrosia, I don’t think Tango or Mick will be broken-hearted if he doesn’t win . . . seeing as Ambrosia is Camboni’s horse.’
‘Now, Sas, don’t be disappointed if Toffee doesn’t do well, you can’t expect to have a winner first time. The fact you’ve got him to this stage and qualifying is excellent. I think you’ve made a good buy there, he’s a beautiful horse.’
Saskia agreed. ‘Colin and his mates will be mad if he wins, having sold him to me. I think it’s just as well Mick is riding Toffee — if he rode Ambrosia and lost, I wouldn’t put it past Colin and his crew to claim foul play.’
‘I wouldn’t put anything past Colin,’ said Queenie with heat.
‘Gosh, Mum, does that mean he’s off the list for my twenty-first birthday?’ said Saskia trying to joke, unaware of the pain that lay behind her mother’s bitter comment.
‘Your party is entirely up to you. What would you like to do?’
‘Ria and Bruce offered to do something here if I wanted. Or there’s the Gold Coast . . . or even a big formal in Sydney at Sarah’s, I suppose,’ mused Saskia.
‘Henri would love to give you an elegant party at the Kurrajong, I know,’ added Queenie.
‘Mum, I’m not the elegant type. No,’ said Saskia, making a decision, ‘there’s only one place for my party — Tingulla. And I want TR to be there too.’
‘You ask him, Sas. Things are a bit strained between us right now. I’m just leaving him on his own for the moment, it seems to be what he wants. But you’d want Dingo to come too, wouldn’t you?’
‘You bet, so I’ll ask Dingo too, then they’ll both come for sure. My birthday is on the Friday, but I’d like the party to be on Saturday so all my friends can be there . . . And can we have a big woolshed dance and let the guests sleep in the shearers’ quarters?’ Saskia asked hesitantly, aware she was treading on sensitive ground. This was how Queenie had celebrated her own twenty-first — the night she’d met TR and her mother Rose had been brutally murdered.
‘If that’s what you want, Sas,’ said Queenie slowly, ‘then we’ll do it. Well, I guess I’ll see you at the races. Don’t you go putting a lot of money on Toffee, you’ve spent enough!’
‘Gosh, Mum, I have to show some faith in my horse — even if it’s only a couple of dollars.’
Queenie hung up, glad Saskia hadn’t sensed her deep anxiety about Colin’s claim on Cricklewood. Queenie had examined her finances over and over again; she had exhausted every avenue, but no one, not even the bank, could help and she had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t raise the money without losing Tingulla Fashions. And she wasn’t prepared to do that — it wasn’t just her money involved, lots of people stood to lose a lot if she pulled out now.
It made her feel physically ill when she thought about it, but there was only one answer. She couldn’t give Colin the money he wanted, so she’d have to give him Cricklewood. She held onto the faint hope that Colin might sit on Cricklewood for a bit before selling it, and maybe she could raise the finance to purchase it at that time. It gave her hope for a brief time, but in her heart Queenie knew Colin would flog it and strip it of its assets as fast as he could. He wanted cash. Well, she had to give him an answer soon. He’d be at the Gold Coast Cup. She’d tell him at the races.
The taxi wound up the drive to Harmony Hill and stopped outside the main entrance. The solitary male passenger paid the driver and stepped from the cab, hoisting his small bag onto his shoulder before going into the reception area. He emerged a few minutes later following the directions given to him by the girl at the reception desk, and set off down the path.
Jenni leaned back in her chair on the small front deck of her bungalow and laughed at the description of a racing camel being ridden by the indomitable Dingo. ‘What an amazing man he is,’ she smiled.
Tango reached for his drink, hooking his long legs up on the railing. ‘Boy, this is some pretty place, thanks for showing me around. So you’re feeling good about being here, huh?’
‘Yes, I’m enjoying the work. Colin is a bit of a pain, but it’s great having Saskia around. What plans have you guys made for dinner?’
‘Saskia’s busy with Mick, getting Toffee ready for the big race. I thought we might have dinner alone. I figured we could go into Surfers and paint the town red. What do you say?’
‘That would be nice. I’m dying to hear more about your trip to Dingo’s and all about how TR is getting on.’
‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ came a deep firm voice from the living room behind them.
Jenni swung around with a gasp and Tango’s legs dropped off the railing in shock as he struggled to his feet, tipping over his chair in the process.
Jenni and Tango stared in shocked surprise at TR standing in the middle of the room, a wry, lopsided grin on his face.
‘Surprise,’ he said simply.
Jenni hurried towards him. ‘TR, what are you doing here? Have you come up for the Cup? How did you get here? I mean, why . . . are you here?’ She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek but TR and Tango had locked eyes, each staring at the other.
TR answered her without taking his eyes from Tango. ‘Guess I’m here for the same reason he is — to take you to dinner.’
‘You’re a popular girl it seems,’ said Tango, continuing to gaze at his father. He had no idea TR was planning a trip to Harmony Hill. He thought he was still with Dingo.
Jenni looked from father to son. ‘Well come on in, TR, we were just sitting on the deck having a juice. Tango came up yesterday.’ She led TR out onto
the deck. ‘I thought you were staying in the west for a while longer.’
‘Yeah Dad, so did I . . .’ said Tango testily. ‘I didn’t know you were coming back. Or planning on seeing Sas. Mum didn’t mention anything.’
‘She doesn’t know. It was an impromptu trip.’ TR turned to Jenni. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’
Tango rose. ‘Look, I’ll leave. Jenni, I’ll be at Sas’s bungalow. I guess dinner is off. I’ll see you, Dad.’ He left the room without looking at his father.
TR turned to Jenni. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity, sympathy and wariness. ‘TR . . . why didn’t you call? Is something wrong?’
‘No. I didn’t expect you to be . . . that, Tango would be here . . . Why is he here?’
‘TR, he’s come up for the Cup . . . and to see how I’d settled in.’
‘I see.’ TR turned away.
Jenni went to him and put her arms around him. ‘No, TR, you don’t see. Please, don’t be like this. I’m really so glad to see you.’ She hugged him but he brushed her aside.
‘You must feel pretty pleased with yourself. You’ve not only got two men on a string, you’ve got . . .’
‘Stop! Don’t say it, TR!’ cried Jenni. ‘This is crazy. You’re both special. For God’s sake . . . you know how much you mean to me!’
‘And what about Tango? What does he mean to you, Jenni?’ demanded TR.
Jenni looked near to tears. ‘I don’t know. You both mean a lot to me.’
‘I needed you, Jenni. I thought we were going to sort out where we stood when I came back from the west. I decided this needed to be sorted out sooner rather than later, so here I am. I can’t stand my life as it is . . . this not knowing about things!’ TR rubbed his eyes, his face crumpled and Jenni’s heart lurched in despair at the desolate tone of his voice.
‘What about Queenie?’ asked Jenni slowly. ‘Where does she fit in? Where do I fit in? What do you want, TR?’ she asked quietly.
TR stared at her, a passionate fire burning in his eyes and for a moment he looked as if he was going to grab her and sweep her into his arms. But like the flame of a match suddenly dwindling, he turned away, his shoulders sagging. ‘I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry for barging in like this. It was crazy. I’ll go back to Dingo’s. Tell Tango . . . Oh never mind.’
