Paycheque

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘What evil plan are you concocting now?’ David said, appearing at the table and sitting down again.

  ‘I was just about to have another go at convincing Claire to have a housewarming since she’s in such a good mood. You can help twist her arm now you’re here.’

  ‘And what is it that has the lovely Claire so chipper?’

  ‘Well not love, apparently,’ Bernadette said, pouting.

  ‘Just country life in general,’ Claire cut in. ‘You know? Clean, fresh air, good food, friends – the usual things.’

  ‘Claire, you have to have a party. I’ve got a few recipes I’m dying to try out. I promise we’ll do most of the work, and not leave until the place looks better than it did to start with. Right, Bernie?’

  ‘Really?’ Claire asked with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Absolutely. Won’t we Bernie?’ He nudged Bernadette hard.

  ‘All right, if you say so.’

  ‘Okay. And I’ll have that in writing, thanks, signed by both of you.’ Claire reached over and pulled David’s order book and pencil from his shirt pocket and slapped them on the table. She read what was being written and then waited silently while both signatures were added.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said smugly, pocketing the note. Claire then fished in her handbag and brought out a folded piece of paper, which she smoothed out and then pushed across the table.

  ‘Here’s the guest list. Invitations only went out yesterday so numbers aren’t finalised. But I think we’re looking at around twenty.’

  David and Bernadette exchanged wide-eyed expressions and then set their stunned gaze on Claire who was already again fossicking in her handbag. She brought out two envelopes with their names handwritten on them.

  ‘I think we’ve been conned again, David,’ Bernadette said, bringing her head down on the table.

  ‘Yep. Done like a dinner, I’d say.’

  ‘Right, so who’s having dessert?’ Claire said, looking behind her at the display case of cakes, tarts and pastries. ‘I think under the circumstances, it should be on me.’

  ‘Sorry, I’d better get back to the kitchen,’ said David, and got up. ‘See you soon.’ He kissed them both again and, with the most subtle of aftershave breezes, was gone.

  ‘Bernie, how about you?’

  Bernadette looked at her watch. ‘Shit! I didn’t realise how long I’ve been sitting here. I’m meant to relieve Darren at one-fifteen. Sorry, gotta go.’ She leapt up, gathered her handbag and, after pecking the bewildered Claire on the cheek, bolted to the counter to pay.

  Claire shrugged and got up as well. She’d have dessert next time. It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything better to do. She was looking forward to getting back to the farm and the work that awaited her.

  She suddenly remembered that she still hadn’t sent Derek and Maddie’s invitations. She hadn’t seen them since the race meeting in December, but it would be nice to at least invite them. She’d meant to phone Derek for the address, but something held her back. The thought of calling him after such a long time sent a slight quiver through her.

  Chapter Twenty–seven

  Claire got changed and, armed with her old Pony Club instructor’s manual, made her way behind the stables, where her jumps had been stacked for nearly a decade. Jack had built a simple low lean-to out of recycled corrugated iron, but nothing seemed the worse for wear except the dulling of paint where sunlight had peeped under the iron.

  Claire had dragged all the rails and other bits and pieces out into the paddock and was planning her obstacle course layout when she heard the crunch of gravel and quiet purr of an approaching vehicle. She turned, shading her eyes against the glare of afternoon sun. Her heart did a quick double-beat as she recognised the silver BMW. She made her way over to the fence as Derek Anderson emerged. They shook hands a little awkwardly, and exchanged greetings.

  ‘Are you back teaching Pony Club?’ Derek asked, nodding at the coloured rails and other jump paraphernalia.

  ‘Oh. Just something I’m trying out.’ Claire blushed slightly and dropped her gaze to the ground where she was now prodding at the powdery earth with the toe of her boot.

  ‘Would you like a hand setting them up?’

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Really, it’s no problem. I’d be happy to help.’ Claire felt torn between wanting to spend time shoulder to shoulder with Derek and not disclosing her plans. He was a rival owner after all.

  ‘Come on, we’ll have it done in no time,’ he said, striding through the gate and out into the paddock. Claire watched him. He was a little heavier than she remembered, but she found she actually liked his bulk, it was comforting. She laughed to herself when she realised she was appraising him, and bounded to catch up.

  It took them over an hour to measure, place, remeasure and move the various jumps exactly the right distance apart. The fact that Derek had been an instructor saved a lot of time; he was able to space the jumps out correctly without waiting for further instructions.

  ‘Thanks Derek, I really appreciate your help,’ Claire said when they’d finished and were leaning on a white painted forty-four gallon drum that was part of one of the obstacles.

  ‘My pleasure. Any time.’

  ‘Come on inside, I’m parched.’

  They sat in the faded black watch tartan director’s chairs under the back verandah, looking over the lawn at the late afternoon shadows, each with a large tumbler of Bickford’s lime cordial and ice.

  ‘Ahh, that’s better. I didn’t realise just how thirsty I was,’ Derek said after his first long sip. Claire realised he had been there two hours and she still didn’t have a clue why.

  ‘Derek –?’ she started.

  ‘Claire –?’ he said at exactly the same time. They laughed self-consciously.

  ‘Ladies first,’ he said after a brief moment of awkwardness.

  ‘No, you’ve dragged all those jumps around for me. It’s the least I can do.’

  ‘Well all right.’ He paused. ‘I’ve got a favour to ask,’ he said, shifting in his chair.

  ‘Ask away.’

  ‘It’s a big one, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Right, okay.’ Claire smiled, and took another sip of her drink.

  ‘I need you to employ Maddie. Here,’ Derek blurted.

  Claire choked and spluttered as she inhaled her drink. ‘What?!’

  ‘I’ll pay – it won’t cost you anything.’

  It took Claire a few moments to recover. She wiped her mouth and nose with the back of her hand and stared at Derek.

  ‘What do you mean? You’re going to pay us to employ Maddie? Are you mad? Or just bloody rich?’ The words came out in a torrent. She wished she hadn’t said the last bit but it was too late now.

  ‘Not rich, Claire, just worried about my little girl.’

  ‘Why? Has something happened to her? What’s going on?’

  Derek let out a long weary sigh before speaking. ‘Maddie’s being bullied at Al Jacobs’s place.’ He put his glass down at his feet and rubbed his face with both hands. ‘Thank God she feels she can talk to me, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘Can’t you talk to Jacobs? Threaten to report him or something?’

  ‘And risk him or someone else taking it out on her? No, I’ve just got to get her out of there. Are you going to help me or not?’ He suddenly turned to her and grabbed both her hands now lying empty in her lap. ‘Please, Claire.’

  Claire met his searching gaze. ‘Derek, there’s no question of me doing whatever I can. Maddie’s a great girl. And she’s amazing with horses…’

  ‘But?’

  Claire bit her lip. ‘Well there’s Dad to consider, which shouldn’t be a problem…’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well let me get this straight: we’d employ Maddie full-time, here in the stables, trackwork and…’

  ‘Yeah, whatever you need.’

  ‘…and you’d be paying her wages?’
/>
  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Is this legal, Derek?’

  ‘I’ll make sure it’s all above board. You won’t be in any danger.’

  Claire shifted in her chair. ‘But it’s not fair. It’s win-win for us. If we could afford to pay her, fine, I’d have no hesitation. But taking money from you? I don’t know.’ Claire shook her head, shrugged, and frowned. ‘And what about Maddie? I’m assuming she doesn’t know anything about this. If she did she’d be here with you.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t. She’s desperate to get out of there but needs somewhere else to go.’

  ‘She’s a strong, hardworking, intelligent young woman, Derek. How would she feel if she knew her father had bought her a job? I’d be devastated.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have to know.’

  ‘And if she found out, she’d be furious with all of us. Derek, you’re playing with fire.’

  ‘So what do I do?’ he said, throwing his hands up. ‘I can’t afford to set up my own facility, and I wouldn’t know where to start anyway.’

  Claire’s head spun for a few moments while she processed Derek’s predicament, and thought about how she could help and at the same time keep everyone’s values intact.

  ‘Right,’ she finally said. ‘Of course I’ll have to run everything by Dad, but I’m sure he’ll agree. It could work, but there would have to be two conditions.’

  ‘Name them.’

  ‘One: we discuss all this with Maddie and she decides if she wants to be involved or not. And two: the money is considered a loan – though it will have to be a long-term one at the rate we’re going,’ she added with a grimace. ‘Oh, and I’ve just thought of a third condition: we put it all in writing. What do you think?’

  ‘Do I have a choice about telling Maddie?’

  ‘Sorry, but if Maddie, Dad and I are going to be a team, we can’t keep a secret like this from her.’

  ‘Okay. You have no idea how much this means to me, Claire. Thank you,’ he said, grasping both her hands and squeezing them.

  ‘Well we’re not home and hosed yet. I’ll talk to Dad this evening. When do you think you can bring Maddie around?’

  ‘Tomorrow. I think she finishes at four-thirty. I can pick her up after that.’

  ‘Then why don’t you both stay for tea? Nothing fancy.’

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure.’

  ‘No worries. Oh and wait, I’ve got something for you both,’ Claire said, leaping up. ‘I was going to call you tonight to get your address,’ she added as she disappeared. Derek stared after her looking puzzled.

  Claire came back with two envelopes which she handed to Derek. ‘I’ve been bullied into having a housewarming the Saturday after next – I’m moving on the Wednesday. Here’s an invitation for you and one for Maddie. I understand if you already have plans.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I don’t, but I can’t speak for Maddie. Do you need a hand on moving day? I’d be more than happy to help.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’ve booked removalists. And I’m having them pack everything.’

  ‘Well you can always phone if you need any extra assistance – I’m only ten minutes away.’

  ‘Really? I thought you lived down in the city somewhere.’

  ‘No, I’m on a couple of acres just over at Gumeracha.’

  ‘Wow, I had no idea. Travelling to work must be a nightmare.’

  ‘The freeway has got it down to forty-five minutes. We originally bought so Claire and Amy could have the horses. Never thought I’d like the peace and quiet so much, but there you go – learn something new every day.’

  Tell me about it, Claire thought. She really had Derek picked as a city type through and through. She couldn’t believe she’d worked with him for years without knowing he’d been living just a few towns away from where she’d grown up. Claire found that she quite liked the idea of Derek living so close.

  ‘I’d better get going,’ Derek said, standing up.

  ‘Thanks for your help with the jumps and everything.’

  ‘My pleasure. And thank you again for your help with Maddie.’

  ‘Well it’s up to her now. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  They walked close together as they made their way out to Derek’s car. Claire felt the weirdest urge to grab his hand.

  With his car door open, Derek turned to Claire and kissed her full on the lips: a lingering, not entirely platonic, kiss. Claire closed her eyes and drank in his touch. And then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. Claire responded by holding him tightly back.

  After a few moments he pulled away and got into his car.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, if it works for Maddie. Otherwise I’ll call,’ he said from the open window of his car.

  Claire waved him off and stood watching the dust until well after she’d lost sight of the car. She went inside feeling a little like she had twenty-odd years ago when her first boyfriend, Justin, left after visiting.

  Chapter Twenty–eight

  Claire was in her bedroom finishing drying her hair when she heard a car coming up the track. She carefully tucked a stray wisp of hair back into place and laughed to herself at the absurdity of life. She’d just spent over an hour making sure she looked casual and carefree – pretty much the way she looked every day without any effort or forethought.

  And then there was the dinner itself. She’d chosen braised lamb shanks, rice and an assortment of steamed vegetables – a meal she’d cooked countless times. But this time she’d fussed over every detail, paranoid that everything would go wrong.

  But why? It was nothing more than a business meeting. Claire rolled her eyes at her reflection, sighed and left the room, ready to answer the door.

  She looked out the dining room window in time to see Jack greet Derek with a handshake, and Maddie with a friendly hand to the shoulder and welcoming grin.

  As they were being ushered towards the house, Claire did one final check of the pumpkin soup. She frowned as she stared at the bread rolls warming in the oven. She really hoped Derek had come clean with Maddie and that there wasn’t about to be any awkwardness.

  At what point should they start discussions? Between soup and main, or before they tucked into their bread and butter pudding dessert? And who should bring it up? Just go with the flow, she told herself, but cringed as Jack let their guests in through the laundry. Not that it mattered. This was a business meeting, not a date, she reminded herself for about the twentieth time.

  Claire turned back from the oven as Jack, Maddie and Derek entered the kitchen, and instinctively wiped her hands on a tea towel. She wondered at the sidelong bemused smirk on Derek’s face as he was ushered past her into the open-plan dining-lounge room, until she remembered with a flush of embarrassment she still had one of her mother’s frilly green gingham aprons on. She probably looked the epitome of a 1950s housewife.

  Halfway into their soup, Jack got right down to business.

  ‘So, Maddie, tell me what you’ve been up to at Al Jacobs’s place – any newcomers we need to watch out for?’

  ‘To be honest, Mr McIntyre, there are a couple with some talent, but none that really want to win.’

  ‘We’re going to get on just great, I can tell,’ Jack said. ‘But please, I’ve told you before, it’s Jack – none of this formal stuff.’

  ‘Maddie does know why she’s here, doesn’t she?’ Claire asked, fixing a stare on Derek.

  ‘I’ve been totally up front; there’s nothing Maddie doesn’t know about our arrangement.’

  ‘Which is?’ Claire knew she sounded like a school matron but didn’t care. If the words were actually spoken with everyone involved present there could be no misunderstandings later.

  ‘It’s all right. I know Dad’s paying you to employ me. And I really am grateful. I promise I won’t let you down.’ Maddie smiled at each person around the table.

  ‘Well as long as you don’t feel like your independence is
compromised.’ Claire hoped she didn’t sound sarcastic, because she certainly wasn’t meaning to.

  ‘Of course it is, but I’m not going to be bitter about it. Yes, I would have liked to go it alone, but in a boys’ club such as racing, that doesn’t seem possible for me right now.’

  Claire was impressed with how grounded Maddie seemed. She really was a credit to her father, she thought, instantly feeling very old.

  ‘Apparently it is one thing to be strong and independent, but quite another to be petulant and stubborn,’ Maddie said, looking pointedly at her father. Claire tried to hide her bemusement. She felt a whole new rush of respect for the kid.

  ‘Is it okay if I start tomorrow?’ Maddie suddenly asked, looking quickly down at her bowl.

  ‘Okay with me,’ Claire said. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Why the hurry, Maddie?’ Derek asked, staring at his daughter with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Oh, you know. No time like the present,’ Maddie said, flipping a hand before returning to her soup.

  Good on you, Claire thought, she’s left the Jacobs place with a bang, naughty girl. She looked forward to hearing the full story. But she’d wait. There were some things a father really didn’t need to know.

  ‘Dad, how about you top up our glasses while I serve the main. Maddie, could you collect the plates? You’re our slave now, remember,’ she said, giving the girl a wink.

  The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant haze of conversation, good food and Barossa Valley red. At around ten o’clock, Derek and Maddie bid their farewells with the promise of her returning at eight the next morning – she was allowed a sleep-in for her first day at the McIntyres’.

  The next morning, Claire introduced Maddie to Larry and Bell and reintroduced her to Paycheque and Howie. Then she showed her through the feed room. She was relieved Maddie didn’t seem at all perturbed to be in such a rustic, ramshackle outfit after the relative luxury of her previous post.

  The tour ended in the tack room where, after showing Maddie where everything was kept, they sat down on the bench under the small window opposite the whiteboard. This was a crucial moment: what if their concept sounded like some fantastical pipe dream when explained to an outsider? Or worse, to herself, when she said it out loud? She took a deep breath and stared at the whiteboard, deciding where to start. But Maddie got in first.