The Country Girl

by Cathryn Hein

  ‘I should have a lot of things.’ She smiled, appreciating her pa’s concern, and showing she was okay, which she was. Boyfriend or not, life was pretty damn good. ‘I’m fine, Pa.’

  ‘Young lass like you can’t live on scones alone. Hearts need feeding too.’ His eyes turned shiny. ‘Believe me, being lonely isn’t any fun.’

  Tash slid off her stool and came to circle her arms around him. ‘I miss her too.’

  ‘She was a wonderful woman, your nan.’ Pa rubbed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. ‘You should have what we had.’

  ‘I hope I get it one day.’

  He gave her a squeeze. ‘And how do you propose to do that if you don’t have a fella?’

  ‘I’ll find one, eventually.’ The kettle clicked off. Tash stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Just not this year.’

  She munched a bowl of cereal while the tea brewed, and discussed vegetable varieties with Pa. Fast meals like stir-fries were becoming increasingly popular on her website and Tash wanted to grow a few Asian greens, as well as herbs like coriander, holy basil and lemongrass.

  ‘Might have to do a bit of research on those,’ said Pa.

  ‘Coriander’s easy, so’s the basil. I grew both in Melbourne. Holy basil behaves pretty much the same as normal basil, but we might have to grow the lemongrass in a pot and bring it inside in the winter. As for the others …’ She shrugged. ‘I guess they’d be similar to other brassicas.’

  Breakfast finished, Tash rinsed the bowl and picked up her tea. Her eye caught her big camera, still set up from filming cooking demonstrations the day before. ‘We should do an intro, toast your welcome with our cuppas.’

  ‘If you want. What do I do?’

  ‘Just look down the lens and be yourself. It’s pretty easy.’

  A few minutes of fiddling and Tash had the camera set. ‘Ready?’

  Pa slicked back his silver fox mane and checked his stockman’s shirt was tucked in. Satisfied, he nodded. ‘When you are.’

  Tash joined him at the bench and slung an arm around his waist. She grinned up at him. ‘Time to show us your stuff, Pa-Star.’ Using the remote, she clicked record and grinned broadly as she mentally counted down from three.

  ‘Hi, everyone! Today I have someone very special to introduce. A man who’s been part of my life forever and who I love very much. Say hello to Basil Ranger, my darling pa, and the newest addition to the Urban Ranger cast.’ She gave him an affectionate squeeze. ‘Pa’s coming on board as our gardening guru. What this man doesn’t know about growing fruit and veg isn’t worth knowing, so when he talks, you’d better listen.’ Tash gave him a subtle nudge with her hip, which was his cue to speak.

  Pa beamed at the camera. ‘Call me Baz, everyone else does.’ He looked proudly down at Tash before cocking his head towards her and wiggling his eyebrows. ‘How’s my granddaughter? Good sort, isn’t she?’

  ‘Pa!’

  ‘Single, too.’

  Tash put her free hand to her burning cheek and shook her head. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

  ‘You just told them to.’

  ‘About growing veg!’

  ‘I know about more than growing veg.’ Like an old pro, and in a move reminiscent of Tash herself, he bent conspiratorially forward and winked at the camera. ‘Keep watch and you might learn more than you bargained for.’

  Tash groaned before bursting into laughter and poking him in the ribs. ‘That was not how this was meant to go.’

  Pa donned an innocent expression. ‘You never gave me a script. You said be yourself. So I was.’ He stared down the camera lens again and released a theatrical sigh. ‘It’s hard to get good help.’

  Tash was still laughing when she picked up the remote to stop filming. ‘I think we might have to do that again.’

  But when she reviewed the footage, although deeply embarrassing, it was also hugely entertaining. Pa had proved himself a star, just like his new nickname. He had a way of staring so directly at the viewer, and with such a twinkle in his eye, it was as if he were flirting in person. Tash knew in her heart her fans would adore it.

  Anyway, Pa flat out refused a second take, so she was stuck with it.

  She took more footage throughout the morning on her phone. Pa seemed to know when something might be interesting, and kept beckoning her over. Pulling out a sick-looking tomato plant, he inspected its roots, harrumphed, and ordered Tash to start filming.

  ‘See that?’ he said, pointing a dirt-stained finger at the plant’s truncated and tumour-bobbled roots. ‘Nematodes. Probably root-knot nematode. They like tomatoes.’

  ‘Nematodes?’ asked Tash. She knew what they were but her viewers might not. ‘As in worms?’

  He nodded. ‘Microscopic ones. They’re parasites that feed on a plant’s roots until they’re so damaged the plant can no longer absorb water and nutrients.’

  ‘So what can we do about it?’ asked Tash.

  He indicated the bed and its tangle of neglected tomato plants. ‘Pull out and burn this lot for starters.’ He stared solemnly at the camera. ‘Never compost nematode-infected plants or you’ll spread the things everywhere. We’ll dig the lot over and plant mustard as a green mulch. That stops the buggers. They don’t like things spicy.’

  ‘Can’t we spray or something?’

  The look Pa skewered past the camera to Tash was priceless.

  ‘Sorry.’ She went on after a contrite pause. ‘Is there any way we can save the bed though? I was hoping to have them all in production this winter.’

  Pa scratched his chin and regarded the tomato roots, then threw the yellowy, wilted plant aside and bent to grab another by the base. Like the previous one, it yielded easily. A quick, grim inspection and he threw it on top of its mate. ‘Maybe. Resistant plants I suppose. Broccoli, sprouts. Companion-plant a few marigolds.’

  ‘Marigolds? What do they do?’

  ‘Same as mustard. They leach stuff into the soil that’s toxic to the worms.’

  ‘Any other things we can try?’

  Lifting his hat and scrubbing his silvery hair, Pa considered. ‘You could lay down plastic for a month or so. Cook the little blighters.’ He glanced at the clear sky. ‘It’s hot enough.’

  That sounded a good solution to Tash. That way the bed would still be usable for the rest of the year. ‘Why don’t we try that then?’

  ‘Mustard green mulch is better.’ He threw her another look before focusing on the camera and waggling a finger. ‘Now you lot listen up. Gardening’s like a good woman. You treat her properly, and you don’t rush. Cheat and take shortcuts, and mark my words she’ll know and turn her back on you. Fair enough, too.’ Suddenly he grinned, cheeky and handsome, and Tash guessed there’d be quite a few hearts sent a-fluttering at that grin once the video went live. ‘See? Told you you’d learn more than you bargained for!’

  More asides followed, homegrown snippets of wisdom about fruit, veg, love and life. Excited by her pa’s performance, Tash kept them working, even though it messed up the day’s schedule. This was gold, and she could always make up the lost time later.

  So enamoured was she with her pa and his potential, Tash didn’t realise her phone was going flat until someone tried to call. Admittedly, it had been beeping for a while, but usually the battery lasted for ages, even when low. The phone call proved its undoing. With a shudder and a half-strangled electronic jangle, it died.

  Which was no wonder, thought Tash when she took it inside to put it on to charge and noticed the time. They’d been going for hours. Yelling at Pa to come in for a cuppa, she let the phone absorb some charge while she washed her hands, before checking her missed calls and then her messages, frowning when she heard Nicola’s voice.

  A frown that only deepened when she heard Nicola’s proposal.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Pa, walking inside and clocking her face.

  She stared at him, her belly tight.

  ‘Floss?’

  Slowly, Tash placed the phone back on
the bench and folded her arms over her chest. ‘That was Nicola.’

  His expression turned wary. Pa was the only person who knew about her falling out with Maddy, and how difficult Tash found the situation. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone, but Pa had weaselled it out one weekend when she was home from uni, after noticing how reluctant she was to visit her best friend. To Tash’s relief he’d been sympathetic. Best of all, he’d made her see the pointlessness of carrying on with her guilt. They’d both said stupid things, acted childishly, but that was in the past. What mattered was the future, and Maddy and the Handrecks needed their love and understanding.

  ‘Is it about Maddy?’

  ‘No.’ She winced. It was about Maddy. It was about both of them, their friendship, the things they both loved. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Nicola and Grant want me to come over for a chat,’ she said slowly. ‘About Khan.’ She stared at him, biting her lip and blinking. ‘Pa, they want to give me Maddy’s horse.’

  Chapter 8

  Tash’s stomach felt like it had been invaded with Pa’s nematodes. Everything was knotted and tight, yet there was no dismissing the little lurches of excitement that gripped her each time she thought of riding again.

  She should have been filming this afternoon, demonstrating her new recipe for lime and watermelon sorbet. Or editing the morning’s gardening footage, working on her cookbook or new recipes, scheduling blog posts, attending to her social media accounts. Anything other than crawling her car along Castlereagh Road to Springbank.

  Why the hell would they want her to take Khan? He was Maddy’s horse, kept close despite the accident because they knew how much she loved him. There was the incident with Patrick, but surely that had been resolved by moving Khan out of sight?

  Tash rubbed her brow. She didn’t need this right now. It was too much, too dangerously overlaid with the shards of her and Maddy’s broken friendship.

  Still the excitement refused to fade.

  She indicated for the driveway. Behind her a long plume of dust rose from the dry surface of Castlereagh Road. The urge to U-turn back into it was enormous, but Tash had never been a coward. Not much of one, anyway. And definitely not since she’d started The Urban Ranger.

  Grant was waiting for her. He opened the car door and kissed her cheek. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  Nicola hovered in the shade near the open French doors, her hands clasped. Her smile was brittle and her gaze kept flicking between her husband and the paddock behind, where Khan was grazing, tail swishing at flies.

  Grant’s palm was soft on Tash’s back as he steered her towards the outdoor setting, laid with a cloth and trays. A jug covered in condensation and a teapot stood alongside glasses and cups, and a plate of chocolate biscuits beginning to melt in the heat.

  ‘Cuppa? Cold drink?’ asked Nicola.

  Tash glanced at Maddy, on her bed close to the open doors. Her eyes were shut, her face slack. Tash hoped she was asleep and unaware of the tension twanging the air like an over-stretched rubber band. ‘Cold drink, thanks.’

  Nicola poured, the lip of the jug rattling slightly as it hit the glass, then she sorted Grant’s tea and pushed it towards him. He smiled his thanks but made no move to sip.

  ‘How are things at Castlereagh?’ he asked in a casual, over-hearty voice. ‘All still going to plan?’

  So it was going to be like that—niceties first. Tash suppressed a sigh.

  ‘It’s working out really well. Feedback so far has been positive. One of the videos went viral. That was pretty awesome.’

  ‘The one with you doing that funny dance in the paddock?’ asked Nicola. ‘With Coco.’

  ‘Yeah. Everyone loved that one. She’s so famous now she has her own Facebook page.’ Tash had created it as a joke but the photos of Coco’s deliciously revolting things to roll in—the fouler the better—were weirdly popular. How slobbery Coco could make her tennis ball was another hit magnet. The strangeness of the internet never ceased to amaze. Even dog drool rated.

  Grant blinked several times. ‘A dog?’

  Tash shrugged. ‘People love animals.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nicola, sharing a meaningful glance with Grant. ‘They do.’

  Grant leaned forward, palms pressed together. ‘Which leads us into what we wanted to talk to you about.’

  Tash rotated her glass, saying nothing. Her stomach was churning and she was sure she could feel Maddy’s eyes burning into her, which was ridiculous. Maddy could hardly focus, and she was asleep. Tash resisted the urge to check.

  ‘You and Maddy had so much fun as kids, riding. Both horse mad.’

  Tash rolled her lips together as a memory of her and Maddy racing each other across the paddocks flashed in her mind. The two of them laughing at the wind and the pound of hooves, high on their youth and seeming invincibility.

  No question they’d had fun. Enormous amounts. Tash couldn’t have asked for a better person to grow up with. She lowered her head and studied her thumb as she rubbed it pensively against her forefinger.

  ‘You sometimes talk about it on your videos,’ said Nicola. ‘The adventures you had.’

  ‘Sometimes. They’re good memories.’

  ‘You must miss it,’ said Grant. ‘Riding, I mean. Having a horse.’

  ‘I do. Very much.’ Which was the truth. Tash did miss it—the farm, the way Bubbles used to nuzzle her hair with her velvet nose and blow soft breaths on her skin. The unique, heady scent of her. The whicker she’d sometimes call on seeing Tash, ears pricked forward. How it felt to have a powerful animal beneath her, responsive to her bidding.

  She glanced at Khan. As though aware he was the subject of discussion, his head was up, his ears tuned towards the house.

  Grant leaned further forward. ‘Wouldn’t you like to have that again?’

  Tash sighed. ‘I would, but like I said on the phone, Khan is Maddy’s horse. I can’t take him away from her.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Grant, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Moving Khan to Castlereagh was about far more than adopting the horse. ‘The thing is, Tash, it’s unlikely she even knows he’s there.’

  She glanced at Nicola. Her face was strained, mouth pulled downward as though something acid had crawled onto her tongue. Perhaps truth did taste bitter. Tash wondered where her hope had gone. Nicola had been one of the greatest believers in Maddy’s recovery, despite sympathetic assurances from a team of specialists that her current condition was likely as good as she’d get.

  An uncomfortable thickness in Tash’s throat had her reaching for her glass, but the cool drink did nothing to dislodge it.

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do it,’ she said. ‘He belongs here, with Maddy.’

  Grant’s voice was low. ‘Two years he’s been wandering that paddock, no good to anyone. He’s a trained animal, used to being cared for, ridden. Now he’s going to waste.’ His tone became gentle with his daughter’s name. ‘Maddy wouldn’t want that.’

  Perhaps she wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean Maddy would want Khan handed to Tash. ‘Why not sell him then?’

  ‘To a stranger?’ said Nicola. She stared at her daughter, eyes liquid, and shook her head. ‘You’re her friend. Who else could she trust to look after Khan the way she would?’

  ‘I can’t.’ Tash’s voice was cracking with the effort to hold the secret of their rift inside. ‘I have too much on. And I’m not staying, you know that. I’m only here for a year, eighteen months at the most.’

  ‘So you’ll return him at the end,’ said Grant, unmoved.

  Tash closed her eyes. Return him? After having a horse back in her life? After renewing her passion and falling in love? How much pain did they want to inflict on her?

  Grant was unrelenting. ‘You’ve had a horse before. You could easily fit him around your other work, and you said yourself that people love animals. You could make him part of The Urban Ranger like you have with Coco.’

  She could, and her fans would be m
ad for it. Tash could picture the title of the first instalment: ‘The Urban Ranger Rides Again’. She could overlay it with the William Tell Overture—the theme song of The Lone Ranger. There’d be a cheap recording she could license for use somewhere.

  ‘Honestly, I can’t.’ But, oh God, she wanted to.

  Grant reached to place his hand on hers and squeezed, his expression pleading. ‘Please, Tash.’

  ‘For Maddy,’ said Nicola.

  Tash stared at her. For Maddy? This would never be about Maddy. That’s what scared her. They hadn’t been speaking when she’d fallen, and for all anyone knew Maddy might not want Tash anywhere near her beloved horse. If she took Khan it would be purely because of her own selfishness.

  The thickness that had invaded her throat earlier became denser. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Tash shook her head, hunting for excuses. ‘What about Patrick?’

  ‘Patrick?’ Grant’s hand lifted from hers, his voice hardening. ‘He’s part of the reason we’re doing this.’

  Tash looked from Grant to Nicola. ‘I know you said Patrick wanted to hurt him, but surely keeping Khan out of sight’s enough?’

  Nicola shook her head. ‘We both feel it’d be safer for everyone if Khan wasn’t here.’

  Safer? How bad had it been with Patrick?

  ‘You don’t trust him?’

  ‘He’s not rational when it comes to Khan,’ said Grant. ‘It was just luck I came home when I did. Horse’d be dead otherwise.’

  ‘He promised it wouldn’t happen again.’ Nicola rubbed her upper arm as though the day still frightened her. ‘But we’d rather not risk it.’

  Tash stared at Maddy, suddenly feeling as helpless as she was. If Patrick really was a threat to Khan, how could she say no?

  ‘I’d have to ask Mum and Dad.’

  There was no missing the relief in Nicola’s smile. ‘I already mentioned it to Liz when I ran into her on Saturday. She said it’d be fine.’

  Tash frowned. ‘She never mentioned it.’

  ‘I asked her not to. We wanted to talk to you first.’

  ‘So?’ asked Grant. ‘You’ll take him?’