“Jen, so nice to see you again,” the old man stiffly lifted himself from the overstuffed sofa and reached to shake her hand.
Jen smiled and nodded, “Likewise, Tom. I trust you have been well?”
“Fair to middling, Jen,” he replied. “My old joints dislike the rain we’ve had. Do you mind if I sit?”
“Of course not,” she said, perching herself on the edge of an old bentwood chair.
“Fiona’s back in the kitchen. Pasta night tonight and her speciality is homemade spaghetti,” he explained. Matt and Catherine are still out with the contractors. We’ve started to bring in the macadamias and trying to salvage as much of the avocado crop that was damaged by the storm.”
“Did you lose much?” she asked politely.
He grinned unexpectedly, “Enough to be annoying and sufficient to affect this year’s bottom line. Such is the life of a farmer, even one long in the tooth and afflicted with rheumatism. Good thing Matt and his family live close by and help out.”
Jen nodded.
“Now, tell me about what has been happening, Jen. You sounded quite odd on the phone.”
Jen stared at her feet, her innate shyness overpowering her.
“You’ve been seeing and hearing things, haven’t you?”
Jen looked up to meet his faded blue eyes, “Yes, how on earth did you know?”
He sat back in his chair with a sigh, Jen could see that he was gathering his thoughts about how and what he was about to say.
“My family has been living up here on the Hinterland for over a hundred years,” he said after a long pause. “This place.” He indicated the house with his hand. “Was built around the time of Federation. So you could say we’ve seen most everything the region could throw at us, including the odd cyclone, bushfire, hippy invasion and the coming and going of various families and industries.” He stared at her, “Fifty years ago, I had just married my young wife Anna. You see, her family had just moved out from Scotland two years before, and I met her at the Brisbane Show.”
Jen nodded, “I’ve been to it a few times myself.”
“Hmmm, I’ve been told it’s changed quite a lot since my last trip...but I digress. I met Anna and we moved into the family house up here at Cromhart. At that time, the farm was mainly dairy and some mixed crops, we didn’t diversify into macadamias and avocados until the eighties. Anyway, Jen’s family was Scottish Highlanders, a tough breed with a lot of history behind them. Anna herself was as courageous a woman as I’d ever met, ready to do the hard work of farming with me. Not a shrinking violet type.”
“She sounds like quite a remarkable woman,” Jen mused.
“She was, and in more ways than one” Tom added. “You see fifty years ago Anna, my strong, tough, prosaic, practical Anna started seeing and hearing things.”
Jen fidgeted a little at hearing that.
He noticed her discomfort and asked her directly, “What do you know about fairies, Jen?”
Blushing with embarrassment, Jen tried to answer the question. “Fairies? Do you mean the Hans Christian Anderson, Grimm Brothers fairy stories?”
He nodded.
“Only from what I remember reading as a child,” she replied.
“Have you ever considered that fairies might actually exist?”
She stared at him, wondering if he was addled in the head, and then almost immediately dismissing the thought when she remembered the hardheaded practicalities of being a farmer.
“No, I’ve always thought fairy tales as being written to amuse or frighten young children, or perhaps teach them certain behaviour.”
He smiled, “Admittedly, some were yes. However, many myths originated as tales handed down from generation to generation, some stretching back hundreds, perhaps thousands of years and from all around the world.”
Jen nodded, “I understand. It was early man’s attempts to explain strange happenings in his environment, happenings that can now be explained through science and medicine.”
“Mostly explained,” Tom corrected her. “Living with Anna opened my eyes to a lot of things that could not be rationally explained.”
“Why so?” Jen was puzzled.
Tom cleared his voice, “Anna was Sighted, Jen. She had special gifts that allowed her to see into what she called the realm of the Fae.”
“Sighted? Do you mean she was psychic?”
He nodded, “She called the gift An da sheallad, or the Second Sight - in other words, the ability to see spirits, to see the future. I understand ‘the gift’, or perhaps more accurately ‘the curse’, can be found amongst certain individuals from the Scottish Highlands.”
She stared at him in some confusion, “Are you implying that I also am Sighted?”
“Perhaps, now might be a good time to tell me of your own experiences.”
Jen sighed, “I don’t know what to say. I’ve had dreams that seem more real than reality. I’ve seen ghostly horsemen in storm clouds and in distant fields, and I have heard inhuman, whispering voices in my house, and even on the phone.” She looked at him frankly, “It’s all been terribly unsettling. Not to mention the storm, which I’ve heard on the news was quite out of the ordinary...also, I’ve had a visitor. I thought he was part of a dream, now I’m not so sure.”
“What sort of visitor?” Tom asked gently.
“A young man, called himself Fionn. He was dressed in ordinary enough clothes, yet thinking about it later, he didn’t seem the least bit ordinary. In fact, his behaviour was quite odd. However, in the dream it all seemed so normal, so rational.”
“It seems like the Fair Folk have taken quite an interest in you, Jen McDonald.”
“Fair Folk?” asked Jen.
“The Faerie, the Fae, the Good People, the Sidhe, the Tuatha De Danaan.” He steepled his fingers together, “There seems to be as many names for them as stars in the sky, or mushrooms in grass after rain.”
“They hardly seem good,” observed Jen, thinking back on her experiences. “I’d call them wild and terrifying, given that what you say actually exists and is true?”
“Is nature not wild and terrifying?” Tom asked.
“Certainly,” Jen agreed. “Nature can be both beautiful and terrifying.”
“Then perhaps these elemental creatures that we have called fairies are simply just another aspect of nature. An aspect that only a few people have the ability to perceive.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Jen. “Or more possibly my brain was hurt during the car crash.”
Tom stared at her directly, “Do you really believe that?”
Jen shrugged, “My practical side would...yet, and if I did wholly believe it I wouldn’t be sitting in your house and rationally discussing fairies with you, now would I Tom?”
“No, you would be already at a hospital getting scans and tests done” he said.
“I’ve already done that,” she admitted, blushing.
“And what did they find?”
“Nothing, I got a clean bill of health.”
“There you go,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Even the wonders of modern medicine cannot explain away the unexplainable.”
“Dad, you there?” a male voice called out suddenly from the back door.
“I’m here,” called out Tom, “We have a visitor.”
A lean and bronzed middle-aged man dressed in Hi-Vis shirt, work shorts and work boots sauntered into the living room. He had an old bushman’s felt hat jammed on his head and his bright blue eyes twinkled.
“Excuse the dirt,” he apologised, wiping his hand on his shorts before holding it out to Jen. “We’ve only just finished for the day.”
“Jen McDonald,” Jen said, introducing herself.
“Matt Delany. My wife Cathy will be along soon, she’s just cleaning up now.” He turned to his father, “Dad, the contractors will be back tomorrow around 10am. You okay with that?”
Tom nodded, “Yes that’s fine, Matt, you go wash. We’ll wait for you and Catherine.”
<
br /> “Fiona, how soon till dinner?” Matt called out.
Jen heard a voice, distant from the kitchen, “Be serving up in ten minutes, Dad.”
“Ok...back in a tic.”
Tom grinned at Jen, “He’ll be awhile, because my son loves his bath. Now back to fairies, do you believe me?”
Jen shrugged, “I guess so. It is a lot to take in. What I cannot understand is why here, why now? I thought fairies were Northern European mythology.”
“National borders would hardly constrain supernatural or elemental creatures,” Tom said wryly. “Anna used to say that she believed that the Fair Folk travelled often, sometimes in procession, along roads that were unseen to us. Fairy highways that crisscrossed the globe,” he paused, “She often thought that Emerald Hills lay right atop one.”
“Given that all this is true, and to be honest, I’m struggling to accept it. I understand the why here, Tom. So can you explain the why now?”
It was his turn to shrug, “To be honest, I don’t know. Perhaps, they are not always present here. Perhaps they do move. All I do know is that fifty years ago, Anna was seeing and hearing things, then after a few months, they suddenly vanished and everything was back to normal again. Anna still felt things from time to time, but nothing like what she had experienced back in ’62.”
“So something’s up?” reasoned Jen.
“It seems to be that way,” Tom nodded. “Oh and one last thing, these creatures do not think like us. Their motives seem to be as alien as a little green man beamed down from Mars. Do not trust them and try to limit your interactions with them. From what Anna said, they will use us as easily as we would move chess pieces on a chess board.”
“So why me?” Jen asked finally, reluctantly.
“I believe it is because you are Sighted Jen” he replied. “They see you because you see them. Occasionally, I’ve read that they will reveal themselves to non-Sighted people, however you attract them as easily as insect paper will attract flies.” He shook his head, “It can be a curse, or a blessing. It depends on how you handle the situation, but heed my warning...they will make themselves hard to ignore, but you must try hard to ignore them.”
Jen nodded, and looked to the kitchen, “What does your family think of all this?”
“It’s mentioned only rarely,” he admitted. “Matt knows that his mother was Sighted, but neither he nor Fiona seemed to have inherited her gift, so we leave it at that.”
“So this gift or curse can skip generations?”
“Apparently so,” agreed Tom. “Are you the only one in your family to see things that others do not?”
Jen shrugged, “I’ve no idea, I am an only child and both Mother and Father have now passed on. They didn’t speak to me about such things, and my cousins back in Scotland have never mentioned it either.”
“Dinner’s up!” called Fiona from the kitchen.
“Well, then time for us to speak of other matters, and to enjoy Fiona’s delicious cooking.”
Tom was right. Fiona’s homemade pasta was amazing and Jen listened as talk went around the table about the storm, farming matters, the contractors. Jen learnt that Fiona was a surf lifesaver at nearby Mooloolaba beach in her spare time. Fiona’s mother Catherine seemed to be a shy countrywoman, content to sit back and let her voluble husband, daughter and father-in-law speak. Occasionally, she and Jen caught each other’s eye. An unspoken agreement seemed to pass between both of them that perhaps one day they might be good friends.
“Oh, Dad, did you hear,” Fiona suddenly stated, “The council is planning to take the town’s power lines underground.”
Matt looked at his daughter shrewdly, “This seems to be an unnecessary expense, given that storm damage has been so significant up and down the coast.”
“I agree with the expense and question the necessity,” Tom replied. “I can see the fingerprints of EHGAG on this.”
“EHGAG” Jen asked in some confusion.
“The local greenie group,” replied Tom acidly. “Look, I’m all for proper conservation and land management, most decent farmers are, but that particular outfit is a bunch of lunatics. EHGAG have had the most idiotic proposals approved by Government. The only thing I can think of is that they must have a politician deep in their pockets. Try to speak against them and before you can say ‘placard’ you’ll have a demonstration at your farm gate and the media baying for your blood.”
Tom sat back in his chair, his face furious.
“Normally I’m all for civic improvements,” Matt said quietly, moderately. “However, the council has admitted it’s financially in a very poor position, and given the expense to repair infrastructure after the storm, well it’s a stupid project to be taking on now.” He sighed, “Sure as anything, rates will be going up, as well as electricity charges, since it will be the only way they’ll have to fund it.”
“No Government grants?” asked Catherine, her voice quiet.
“Doubt it, love,” said Matt. “The Government is in debt too, and if they do give the council money, then there will be a gap. There always is, and the taxpayers will be the ones to fill it.”
“So why is the need, if it’s going to be so expensive?” Jen questioned at last.
Tom turned to her, “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve given up trying to reason out the workings of EHGAG.”
After that, the conversation drifted onto other matters, and by eight pm, Jen, noticing the yawns around the table, said her goodbyes, pleading tiredness herself. Before she left, Tom stopped her at the front door.
“Jen, about what I said before. If you get truly frightened by what is going on, then there is a spare bedroom here to bunk down in until it all passes over.”
Jen squeezed his lined and work roughened hand. “I appreciate the offer, Tom, but now that I know what I’m dealing with, well, let me do this my own way.”
Tom nodded, “I understand, however the offer still stands.” He suddenly laughed, “Fiona has been congratulating me about my new, young girlfriend, but you and I know the truth.”
Then he fell quiet for a moment, as if remembering. “I’d not be telling others what you have been seeing. Anna told a few and she was virtually ostracised by the town after that. It took years before they accepted her again. Small towns are like that. If word gets out, then the gossips will pass it on and it will spread like wildfire. It will take ages for you to live it down, and people simply won’t or can’t accept the truth.”
Jen agreed to keep ‘mum’ and waving goodbye, walked down to her little car. Driving back along the dark wet country roads, Jen was a little apprehensive about what she might find at home. However, all seemed quiet and normal when she drove in, parked, and then opened the door. The only thing that was out of place was the phone wall socket. She went to push it back into the wall, and then hesitated, the cable dangling in her hands. What she really craved was a good night’s sleep and a disconnected phone would stop any unwelcome calls. She would deal with the phone, and whoever or whatever was whispering into it, in the morning.
*
Chapter 8
By the time, Jen awoke the next morning the last of the rain had cleared. Opening the door to the garden, a brilliant blue sky greeted her, marred only by a few clouds driven by a fresh and cool southerly breeze, dispelling the high humidity of the last few days. Outside, the greenness of the hills and paddocks was bright enough to hurt the eyes and lilting birdsong banished any residue anxiety. Faced with such a glorious day, it was hard to believe any imperfection could be present in the world. Jen immediately decided that such a day did not warrant time spent with her nose to the computer screen. Rather a long walk and a hot breakfast after beckoned her outside.
Quickly, she dressed and locked the house, and walked down the few stairs to the springy grass of the lawn. The air was almost intoxicating, she breathed deeply of it, feeling her skin tingle in response. Reaching the road, she randomly chose a direction and began to stroll. Her shoes crunched alon
g the gravel edge of the bitumen occasionally disturbing small insects which startled, flew away from her. Every so often, a car would rush past in a blur of metal and noise. After a few minutes, she turned off the road and clambering through a barbed wire fence, walked out into one of the neighbouring paddocks.
The paddock had seen much rain and little grazing so the grass had grown to reach her knees. Mindful of snakes, she picked up a long stick, which had evidently blown in by the storm, and hit the ground ahead of her. The unaccustomed exercise brought a rose to her normally pale cheeks and she looked for a good place to sit. Eventually she espied a clump of granite boulders off to one side and determinedly made her way to them. Most of the boulders were too steep to scramble up, however Jen found one she could clamber onto and sat panting with exertion.
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