Standing in the doorway, she remained silent while taking in the sight. Damien, Ethel and her parents were huddled over the table, talking excitedly and pointing to some papers scattered about. Jacqueline cleared her throat noisily.
‘What are you all up to?’ she asked as she moved into the room. She felt a bit left out.
‘Hello, dear,’ Eileen said.
‘Hi,’ mumbled Ethel and Damien, before immediately returning their attention to the papers on the table.
‘Good of you to join us,’ Philip said, and also returned to the items of interest laid out in full view.
Jacqueline peered at the papers littering the table. There were two rough hand-drawn maps – one of land and the other a layout of a building – and a couple of pages of scribbled notes and jottings.
‘Thought someone might have picked me up?’ she said sulkily. After unloading her bounty of delicacies on the bench she plumped heavily into the nearest vacant chair.
‘Sorry about that. We got a bit busy,’ Philip said as he bit on the end of a pen in concentration.
‘So, what did you guys get up to today?’
‘Well, Damien took us on a wonderful tour around the place. We grabbed burgers at the roadhouse and we’ve been back since about two,’ Philip said.
‘So why didn’t you pick me up?’
‘Well, we got busy with phone calls, that sort of thing,’ Eileen chortled.
‘What phone calls?’ Jacqueline asked. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’d better get dinner started,’ Eileen said suddenly, and got up. ‘I’ve bought some things. Damien and Ethel are joining us, we’ve already invited them. Hope that’s okay with you? They can’t stay long because they have the joey to feed later,’ Eileen said.
‘Well?’ Jacqueline demanded, standing and putting her hands on her hips.
After exchanging glances with Ethel and Damien, Philip spoke. ‘Well, there are a couple of things you should know. Come on Eileen, this is about you too,’ he added, patting the chair next to him. Jacqueline felt a tingling stab of fear creeping up her spine.
‘Would you like us to leave?’ Ethel said, sounding grave. ‘We really wouldn’t mind.’
Philip put a hand on Ethel’s to keep her from rising. ‘Not at all,’ he said kindly.
Whatever it is can’t be that bad then, Jacqueline silently told herself. She felt the tension subside, and only when she sighed deeply did she realise she’d been holding her breath.
‘Well? Come on,’ she said, letting a nervous laugh escape. Philip Havelock took a deep breath.
‘Two bits of news. One, your mother and I have decided to retire to Wattle Creek, effective as soon as arrangements can be finalised.’
‘Why? What? Why so sudden?’ Jacqueline asked, a frown crossing her face.
Philip’s gaze went back to the table and Eileen took over. ‘In the last twelve months, your father’s arthritis has become … well, is making surgery difficult. Rather than stand by watching someone else doing what he loves, he’s decided to get out altogether.’
Arthritis? Suddenly Jacqueline pictured her father as a stooped old man barely able to get around unassisted and had to bite down hard on her bottom lip to try and stop the tears that were building. How could she have missed the signs? Guilt stabbed like shards of glass at her core and the tears began to distort her vision. Scolding herself, she took a deep breath.
‘Arthritis? Are you sure? What about a second opinion?’
Philip held up a hand. ‘There is no question about the diagnosis.’
‘Um … er … how long have you known?’
Realisation washed over her like an ice-cold shower. Her mother had said ‘the last twelve months’. How could she have not known? The shards of glass buried deep inside her twisted sharply – Jacob, her career, moving to escape …
‘I’m so sorry. I haven’t been spending enough time with you. I didn’t even know you had arthritis,’ she said.
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry about. Your mother and I know you have your own life.’
But his kind words did nothing to push the guilt aside. ‘How bad is it?’ she asked cautiously.
‘The specialist I’ve been seeing is very good and I’m now relatively pain free. It’s just that the joints aren’t as nimble as they used to be. I can’t be putting my patients at risk because I can’t grip instruments like I used to,’ he added sadly.
‘But why move out here, so far from everything? Not that I don’t want you to, because I do. I just hope you’ve thought this through.’
Jacqueline couldn’t believe after nearly a lifetime living in the same house her parents were prepared to pack up everything and move halfway across the state. The same people who didn’t go on planned holidays because it would cause too much upheaval.
‘Had you two figured all wrong,’ she said, thinking aloud.
‘Well, you’re always saying we’re too set in our ways and not adventurous enough. You ought to be pleased we’re finally taking your advice,’ Philip said, putting on a miffed tone but smiling warmly.
Had she actually told them that? She thought she’d kept her thoughts to herself. ‘I just want you both to be happy,’ Jacqueline said, and went over and put an arm around them both.
Suddenly she realised they’d only discussed one thing. There was something else they wanted to tell her.
‘What else is there? You said there were two bits of news,’ Jacqueline said warily. ‘And what’s all this anyway?’ she said, poking at the papers on the table.
‘We’re thinking of opening a B&B. It’s terribly exciting.’ Eileen sounded giddy.
Jacqueline’s head began to spin. A few hours ago her mother had been a housewife content with a weekly trip to the supermarket and a day here and there volunteering for charity. It was like everything she had taken for granted about her parents, was even content to dislike about them, was becoming unravelled.
‘You’re thinking of doing what?’ Jacqueline said, staring at her mother in disbelief. She glanced at her father, half-expecting him to twirl a finger near his ear to suggest Eileen had become unhinged.
Instead he said, ‘It’s early days yet, but we may have found a property. Near Damien’s, actually.’
Things had certainly changed. All this from people who used to have family conferences to decide what to have for dinner the next night. Where was the rational thought in all this, the predictability?
‘A B&B? Um … that’s great,’ Jacqueline said, feeling proud of her parents’ newfound spontaneity but at the same time a little offended at being kept out of the loop.
‘Anyone for a drink?’ she asked them. ‘Sounds like we need a toast.’ It was all her addled brain came up with.
Jacqueline held onto the edge of the sink for a few moments and thought about what she’d heard. Wow, what a couple of dark horses, she thought, shaking her head slowly as she got glasses out of the cupboard.
After the toast, Eileen went back to the stove to stir what looked like the makings of a bolognaise sauce.
‘Mum, I think it’s great, I really do,’ Jacqueline said, wrapping her arms around her mother.
When Jacqueline began clearing the table for setting, she looked carefully at the papers in her hand. She could see what were obviously her parent’s plans and ‘to do’ list, but what the other diagram and list were about was still a mystery.
She recognised the handwriting as Damien’s, and reluctantly decided to ignore what she’d seen. She’d let him explain when he was ready.
As they started eating, Jacqueline asked after Ethel’s day.
‘Not nearly as exciting as the day Eileen, Philip and Damien have had,’ she said. She went on to say that after a quick visit up at the hostel with the oldies she’d spent an uneventful day at home tending to the kangaroos, which seemed to be holding their own.
During the meal Philip and Eileen talked about their drive with Damien and what they’d seen. Except for Damien to say the shed by t
he back road full of his father’s salvaged building materials had been spared, his loss wasn’t mentioned and Jacqueline wondered if this was some private agreement they’d made earlier.
Hating the feeling of not being part of everything, Jacqueline asked Damien if he’d made any decisions regarding the farm.
Looking down at his plate, he murmured that he’d come up with a few ideas, but didn’t elaborate.
‘You’re going to have to tell people sooner or later,’ Philip said kindly.
Still Damien remained silent.
‘Come on, mate. Are you going to tell or will I?’ he ribbed, and slapped Damien on the back.
Damien fidgeted in his chair. ‘Well …’ he began, then stopped, as if having trouble finding the right words.
‘Come on, you’re killing me,’ Jacqueline laughed, her eyes growing wide with expectation.
Chapter Twenty-three
Damien swallowed deeply and cleared his throat. He wondered where he should start.
‘I guess it was when your dad said what a good job we’d done with the roos …’ He tried not to sound like an excited, bumbling school kid who’d just got his first A, but that was how he felt.
Seated around him at the table were kind, patient faces showing nothing but devotion to hearing him. They didn’t interrupt or shift impatiently in their chairs. His heart pounded furiously as if trying to burst through his ribs. He wasn’t sure whether it was from nervousness, excitement, or what, but it was like this was his big test. He didn’t know why, because he’d made up his mind and no one could stop him now, no matter how negative they were. Not that he thought Jacqueline would have anything negative to say.
‘Well, it sort of came to me like the proverbial light bulb …’ There were brief chuckles all round. Damien relaxed slightly, took a deep breath and willed his heart to stop drowning out his thoughts.
‘I’m going to open an animal shelter.’ There, he’d said it, no use beating about the bush. Jacqueline’s eyes were wide, but not in disbelief, it was admiration. Now he was definitely excited.
He dragged the sheets of paper Philip had put back on the table towards him.
‘I’ve made a few calls, starting with the RSPCA and the council. No one seems to have any problems. If I put a small transportable on the place I’ll save quite a bit of the insurance. I’d build my own, but it’ll take too long.
‘I realised yesterday driving around that sheep aren’t really that bad – another light bulb thing! They’re a good means to an end. So I’m going to scrap cropping and just run sheep.
‘Gradually I’ll get more into fat lambs and hopefully eventually breed stud stock. So I can save heaps more of the insurance by not replacing all the machinery.
‘The animal shelter thing – well, Squish started that ball rolling. I just want people to know they don’t have to dump unwanted pets.
‘This probably sounds way too ambitious, but as part of it I want to set up a branch of Pets As Therapy, where people train their dogs, cats, or whatever, to be good and calm and go and visit the oldies in the hostel and patients in the hospital. I don’t care how hard it is, I reckon it can be done. It’s what I want to do.’
As he paused to take a sip of water, he wondered why Jacqueline was looking at him as if something had suddenly clicked in her head as well. He shook the thought as aside. Whatever it was she’d tell him when she wanted to. As he put his glass down, Jacqueline spoke.
‘I’d be happy to recommend people interact with pets as therapy for depression,’ she said, sounding genuinely excited.
‘Thanks,’ he said, smiling at her. Now where was he? Everyone else was still silent. They were clearly waiting for him to continue. So he did.
‘I’m going to use Dad’s stash of timber, iron, wire and stuff to make the kennels, decent-sized runs for dogs and a shed with big cages for cats. I reckon he’d be pretty cool about it. I’ve worked out there’ll be enough money to get everything set up and then it’ll depend how many animals are here as to how much it costs to keep it running. The council doesn’t have a proper pound, so if I can get them on board that’ll really help. The RSPCA says that’s the way to go. I just can’t wait to get cracking.’
Jeez I’m excited, Damien thought. Now he’d said everything aloud it felt real, and not as far-fetched as he had suspected it might. And no one was laughing or telling him he was an idiot. But he knew it was going to be a hard slog. It took ages to change things out there in the bush, even longer for people’s attitudes. For this to work, he’d need the support of the whole district. He really hoped they’d get on board.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘I want to get people to come out and volunteer to feed the animals and help with the building and stuff. Maybe I can get some funding like “Work for the Dole”, or something.
‘So, the shelter will have two main aims: unwanted animals are given a fair go and the people who help get to feel good about making a difference. And that’s it really.’
Suddenly Ethel began clapping, and then everyone else around the table joined in. Damien felt his ears turning a colour near that of beetroot.
‘Wow,’ Jacqueline said, ‘that’s fantastic.’ And he knew she meant it. ‘So, is your mum as excited as we are?’
‘She doesn’t know. Haven’t told her yet.’ His voice surprised him. He’d been expecting a feeble squeak or choked mumble, but instead the words came out clear and strong.
‘Why not?’ Jacqueline asked.
Probably just instinct, Damien thought, because if she thought about it she’d remember how his mum was towards her that day and if she did wouldn’t need to ask. He knew Philip understood, even though he’d never met his mum.
‘Well, it’s the best idea I’ve ever had and I don’t want it shot down in flames,’ he said. It was so new. He’d chewed it over all last night in the kitchen with the roos, and had only really decided that day that maybe it was possible, real even.
Finally he felt like he was doing the right thing with his life, and wasn’t ready to have it drowned in his mum’s questions and practicalities. He thought her aim was to spend her life avoiding emotion. But if she wasn’t such a cold, efficient fish his insurance wouldn’t be what it was, so that was that.
‘She might surprise you,’ Jacqueline said, and offered a sympathetic smile.
You obviously don’t know her very well, he wanted to say, but didn’t. ‘Maybe she will, but I want to be able to sell her more than two bits of paper.’
‘Fair enough,’ Philip said, nodding thoughtfully.
‘Look, I’ve got to get back and feed the joey. You stay if you like,’ Ethel suddenly cut in. ‘Thanks for the meal, sorry to love you and leave you like this,’ she said, rising from her seat. ‘Eileen, how about you come over in the morning for a cuppa?’
‘Would you mind if I took a raincheck? I want to spend the morning looking into a few things regarding the B&B.’
‘And we’re going to have to find a real estate agent,’ Philip added.
‘Not wasting any time, are you?’ Jacqueline said.
‘No point putting it off,’ Philip said.
‘Let’s make it lunch then. There’s plenty of cold meat and salad.’
‘As long as you’re sure?’ Eileen said.
‘No worries. See you when I see you, then,’ said Ethel.
‘I’ll come home with you. I want to see how they’re doing too,’ Damien said.
Jacqueline suddenly spoke as if the conversation arranging lunch hadn’t even happened. ‘Well, I wouldn’t worry about your mum. If you know it’s right, that’s all that matters,’ Jacqueline said. ‘But you really do need to tell her. She might be upset at not being the first to know.’
‘Jacqueline’s got a point, Damien,’ Eileen said thoughtfully.
He knew they were absolutely right. ‘I’ll speak to her real soon,’ he said.
‘We can be there with you if you like,’ Philip offered.
‘Thanks, but that’s okay, I
can do it.’ Damien was just going to tell his mum straight. If she liked it, great, if not that would be fine too. He was going ahead regardless. He was on a roll now and doubted that anybody could stop him. Actually, he reckoned he felt pretty good about telling her, just not tonight.
Ethel had gone to bed. They’d agreed Damien would stay up and do the next feed around midnight and she’d get up for the early morning one. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep yet anyway; there was way too much to think about.
Instead, he sat down at the dining table and started making notes on a lined pad of everything that needed to be done. There was the RSPCA, the council, and the Pets As Therapy mob to contact. Philip had said he was happy to be chief consulting vet, so that was sorted. Damien was sure all the blokes from the Ag Bureau and Apex would be happy to chip in labour.
Jacqueline had said she’d recommend interaction with pets for depression. That would be a huge help. Damien wondered if she was the perfect woman? She’d have to be pretty close.
He wished they’d had a chance to talk about what went on last week at her place, after he’d driven her home from the pub. He hoped she was as keen as him, but just hadn’t said anything.
Would she marry a farmer? She seemed okay with country life.
There’d have to be a new sign for the gate. Would it be D.M. and J. – shit, he didn’t even know her middle name – McAllister? But maybe she was one of those modern women and would want to keep her own name. He shook the thoughts aside. He was getting way too far ahead of himself. One thing at a time. He needed to stay focused. Hm, the animal shelter.
He could get the CWA ladies to have a couple of cake stalls and raise a bit of money. Auntie Ethel could sort that out. There’d have to be a big public opening party so the whole district knew about it. It could be a huge barbie or a heap of spit roasts. Hm, the golf club was the only place big enough. Hey, the shindig could be a joint welcome for Eileen and Philip, so everyone knew who they were. That was a great idea. He knew they’d love it.
He could ask some of the businesses around town to donate prizes and run a couple of raffles. Maybe the golf club would donate some of the bar proceeds. There was so much to get his head around. Jeez he wished his dad was here, he could do with his help.
Wattle Creek Page 26
