A Chance of Stormy Weather

by Tricia Stringer

  “Yes. I told Chris right from the start I wouldn’t survive the isolation of a farmhouse.”

  “Oh.” Dara certainly was frank. Paula wondered if Chris might be a bit henpecked.

  Dara’s eyes twinkled mischievously as if she could read Paula’s mind. “I’m not that much of a witch, Paula. Chris is fifteen years older than me. He’s travelled and tried a few different jobs in his time. He likes the farm but it’s not his life’s work as it is for many around here. His younger brother married a local girl and they’ve produced a brood of sons to keep the farm going. A lot of my money has gone into this place but it’s really only a hobby. Chris is the one bringing in the income. The property’s not far from town so he commutes.” Dara’s look became distant as if she was thinking of something else, then she gave a chuckle. “We’ve got a huge open kitchen-dining-living area at the back with a lean-to laundry. Then there’re bedrooms and a more formal living room upstairs. Plenty of room and no kids to fill it with.”

  Paula wondered about that but decided to stick to decorating topics. “Have you done all the work yourself?”

  “Most of it. I’ve kept the colours plain in here to accommodate the displays but Chris and I had a wonderful time with colours in the house and Carl is always a good source of inspiration.”

  Carl again, thought Paula. He appeared to have some influence on the local paint scene.

  “Come on. I’ll give you a quick tour.”

  Paula followed Dara into the kitchen behind the shop where there was a clutter of jars and pots, recipe books, and fresh food cooling under net covers. The disorder spilled over into the open living area with magazines, an overflowing bookcase and a desk covered in papers. Upstairs was totally different. Dara and Chris had transformed each bedroom into delightful replicas of past eras.

  “This is wonderful, Dara. Do you do bed and breakfast?” Paula tested the comfort of a large rocking chair with a view through the window to the street below.

  “Oh, no. We did the place up for ourselves really. I had so many special pieces of furniture to find homes for and we have city friends who enjoy it when they visit. Now, come on, have you got time for a cuppa before Rowena comes to rush you away?”

  Paula returned to the shop to select her purchases while Dara went back to the kitchen to make coffee. The bell over the door tinkled. Paula turned and stiffened. Katherine Melton entered the shop, a takeaway coffee cup in her hand.

  “Hello, Paula. Taking time off from the busy farm to visit us mere townies?”

  Her tone was light but Paula could see a glint in her eyes.

  “Just choosing some bits and pieces for the spare room.” Paula indicated a cushion and throw rug she held in her hands.

  “Dara does have some quaint little things. If I don’t have time to shop in the city I’ve bought the odd little gift here. Mind you, she does have some delightful antique furniture from time to time.” Katherine flicked a casual glance over the furnishings.

  Paula was annoyed at the obvious dismissal of Dara’s talent.

  “Hello, Katherine.” Dara appeared from the kitchen, all smiles.

  “Oh Dara, I’m desperate for lunch. I’ve been too busy with clients to stop. Have you any of your delightful little pastries? I need some instant energy. I’m feeling lightheaded.”

  Katherine didn’t look like she was about to keel over. She was dressed in flowing cream pants with a matching long-line jacket over a lacy top, all of which highlighted the well-defined curves of her trim body. Her perfectly made-up face glowed and her eyes glittered brightly.

  “Sure, I’ve got a batch of beef and onion pies not long out of the oven. Will that do?”

  “Wonderful,” Katherine gushed.

  Dara disappeared into her kitchen again and Paula seethed quietly. Katherine appeared so condescending and Dara was so nice.

  “You’re still keeping busy out on the farm then, even though it’s seeding time?” Katherine looked her up and down.

  “Yes, thanks, Katherine. I am enjoying trying my hand at redecorating.”

  “I hope you’re not overlooking your skin. If you’re painting it can do such damage.”

  Paula was glad her hands were hidden under the rug she was holding. She still had a few patches of paint that hadn’t washed off and her nails were a mess.

  “I guess you would need something to keep yourself busy.” Katherine was touching things lightly without really looking at them and stepping closer to Paula with each word. “When you’re not born and bred in the country, it can be difficult to adjust. I was amazed when I heard Dan had married a Sydney girl.” Katherine smiled slyly at Paula. “Perhaps it was the temptation of someone new that attracted him. He is such a hard worker. I always thought he was married to the land. I hope he’s not neglecting you. He’s been too involved in that farm to make a commitment before now. We wouldn’t want you scurrying back to Sydney, would we?”

  She had moved so close that Paula was drowning in the crisp scent of her spicy perfume.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Paula held Katherine’s steely look and hoped her voice carried conviction.

  “Here you are, Katherine.” Dara returned with a small container and Paula took a step back, relieved to be released from Katherine’s intense gaze.

  “You are a darling, Dara. How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. You can be the guinea pig. It’s a different recipe I’m trying from an old country cookbook that belonged to Chris’s mother. They might not be that good.”

  “If you made them, they’ll be perfect. I must dash.” Katherine took the bag Dara offered and gave Paula an angelic look. “Now, you take care, Paula. And let me know if you have trouble with your skin. I have the best cream. Dara can vouch for it.”

  “It is good stuff,” Dara said as the tinkling bell signalled Katherine’s departure. “I must admit my skin was a mess while we were doing up this place and Katherine gave me a pot of her special cream. It’s too expensive for me to buy for myself, though I think she must buy it by the bucket full. Now, show me what you’ve decided on? The coffee’s ready and I don’t want you to miss out.”

  Once again Paula followed Dara out to her kitchen but her appetite for cake had waned. Katherine had unsettled her. Did she treat all newcomers to her malicious sense of humour or were her comments just for Paula? Either way Paula was quite sure she didn’t like the woman at all.

  * * *

  After another frenetic journey with Rowena at the wheel, Paula emptied the bags and spread her purchases on the kitchen table. Dara’s bright conversation had buoyed Paula’s flagging humour and now that she was home she was keen to organise everything. She didn’t want to waste time wondering about Katherine.

  There was a plain rich-mocha mohair rug to go with the chintzy quilt cover she would put on the double bed her parents were bringing. Luckily the flowers on the quilt were a subtle pink and the tone in the rug should tie it all in with the wall colour. A taupe-and-coffee-patterned floor mat would add some warmth to the wooden floor. She’d picked out a couple of throw cushions, a small tablecloth for the old bedside chest she’d dragged out of the sleep-out, and a bedside lamp.

  She hadn’t intended spending so much money on the spare room but decided that once it was done there’d always be a place for visitors. Maybe Alison and the children could come for a holiday.

  She also had a large checked throw rug to put over the worn leather couch in the lounge. There should be some cushions coming in one of her boxes to go with it and give the old couch a facelift. She had a momentary twinge of excitement at the thought of the trailer-load of things her parents were bringing. There wasn’t a lot from her flat that she’d wanted to keep but she did have some favourite pieces and she was looking forward to installing them in her new house along with the beautiful wedding presents.

  She thought sadly of some of the lovely things she and Marco had accumulated. He had made sure she left with only a few of them when she’d moved into a partly
furnished unit after their breakup. She shuddered as she pictured Marco’s smiling face. How could she have been such a fool, to have fallen for his manipulative charm?

  “Forget him.” Paula spoke out loud and the sound echoed in the empty kitchen. She shook herself, turned the music way up on the radio and packed away her purchases. She had brought home a delicious-smelling pie from Dara’s and was going to prepare some special vegetables to go with it. The new man in her life deserved her attention. She just hoped he would be home early enough tonight to enjoy it.

  CHAPTER

  7

  “Dan, where did this mail come from?” Paula waved at the small pile of brochures and envelopes on the kitchen table.

  Dan was preparing himself some breakfast and turned to smile at her as he took a bite of toast. Paula’s skin tingled under the windcheater and trackpants she had pulled on. That wonderful smile turned her to jelly.

  “Rowena forgot to give it to you yesterday. She left it with me when she dropped off the shares.”

  Paula shuffled through the pile, sorting the junk mail from the envelopes. She picked up a letter addressed to her. The neat handwriting was her mother’s perfect script. “Why does Rowena have our mail?”

  Dan hugged her to him and she could smell the fresh toast he was eating. “That’s another thing we have to sort out.”

  Paula stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  “We have a mail bag that’s dropped off a couple of times a week. I haven’t been in to the post office to apply for one for us yet.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have called in at the post office yesterday.”

  “I didn’t think of it.” He smiled at her again. “Anyway, it’s no big deal, is it? Rowena passes on our mail.”

  “Eventually.” Paula could feel her harboured resentment for Rowena’s interference surfacing. “It’s another thing she has to do for us, Dan. I’d prefer we had our own delivery.”

  “Okay, the next time one of us is in town, we’ll organise it.”

  “Woodie, this is Tom, are you on channel?” Tom’s voice crackled into the kitchen and Dan picked up the handset on the fridge to answer.

  “Yes, Tom. Woodie here.”

  “I’m having trouble with the ute. Can you pick me up?”

  Dan looked at his watch and frowned. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay.” The two-way crackled and went silent.

  “I don’t know if it was such a good idea to give my old ute to Tom. He spends every spare minute tinkering with it and then he has trouble getting it going again.” Dan gave Paula a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go. We’ll sort out the mail soon, okay?” He picked up his food box from the table. “Can you call Rowena and tell her not to worry about lunch today. We’ll be on the move and I’m not sure where we’ll end up at lunchtime. I’ve packed some of Dara’s pie.”

  “Why don’t you call her on the two-way?” Paula muttered to the back of the door. She jumped as his head popped back round the door and he flapped some crumpled papers at her.

  “If you see Rowena today, can you give her these? I keep forgetting.”

  Paula took the grubby dockets he thrust at her and the door swung shut again.

  Her earlier light mood gone, she flopped down at the table. Last night had been wonderful. Dan had been home early enough to eat the meal she had prepared before it shrivelled up. Then they’d gone to bed and enjoyed the pleasure and the luxury of time together. Paula had wanted that closeness to continue this morning and instead she’d turned into the disgruntled wife and Dan had left before she could repair the mood.

  There seemed to be a conspiracy to undermine her. Rowena managed the day-to-day running of their farm life and there was little Paula could do. The women of the district knew more about her life than she did.

  “Woodie, are you on channel?” Tom’s voice filled the kitchen again. There was silence followed by another attempt to get Dan. “Woodie, it’s Tom. Are you on channel?”

  “Yes, Tom. It’s Woodie.” Paula listened as the remote words flowed around her. Dan must have reached the car.

  “I’ve got the ute going now. I’ll meet you at the corner paddock.”

  “Okay, Tom. See you there.”

  The corner paddock. Which corner? Paula wondered how on earth they could come up with such a ridiculous name. How would she ever work out where they were? It was a different language. The two-way crackled and went silent.

  Paula pushed back her chair. She was fed up with the radio interrupting her days with its snatches of words and other people’s lives. There was always someone asking ‘Are you on channel?’ How could she be on channel when she felt like she was on a different planet?

  She glared at the dials, reached up and flicked it off in frustration. It was all part of the network of things she didn’t understand.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and unclenched her hands.

  “Come on girl, you are an intelligent woman,” she said in a whisper, then looked around imagining Dan observing her with his quizzical smile. If he could see me now, he’d think I’d lost the plot, she thought. The image brought a smile to her own face. Dan was a wonderful guy. In time she would make sense of his world. She didn’t want to sink back into the despair she’d known before she met him.

  A mouse shot across the floor and under the fridge. She was amazed at her lack of reaction. They didn’t bother her so much any more and she was only catching one or two every so often. She checked the traps regularly, not wanting a repeat of the rotten mouse incident.

  The trap that she had set beside the fridge was picked clean. Cunning little creatures had taken the bait without getting caught. She flicked it with her foot to set it off, then wedged another tiny piece of bacon rind onto the prongs. It seemed ridiculous to keep bacon for the mice, when no one else got to eat it. She often ate breakfast alone and when Dan was home there was rarely time for a cooked breakfast. She sighed at the thought of their very short honeymoon. They’d had time for each other and lingering breakfasts then.

  Paula pulled back her shoulders. Dan had said tractor season didn’t last forever. She’d have her man back to herself before long. In the meantime she had work to do. With the trap back in place she turned and surveyed the kitchen. She’d done very little with it apart from the initial clean up with Rowena. Today she planned to give it a thorough going over. Maybe she would try the oven. Dara’s pie had been delicious. Paula decided to try her hand at cooking some different things.

  The mail lay on the table where she’d left it. She put the kettle on and picked up the letters. First she’d read the news from Sydney. She had to admit she was missing her family a little. With no internet access she felt cut off from them. It was good of her mother to write. Paula couldn’t remember the last time she’d received an actual letter.

  Several minutes later Paula dropped the papers back on the table and sat back in a daze. Her mother’s letter had been dotted with questions about her new life. Paula had become more and more tense as she’d read. Her mother even wanted to know where she got her fresh milk and bread from, for goodness sake. She probably thinks I have to milk the cow and bake my own bread.

  “We do have supermarkets and refrigeration in the country,” Paula muttered.

  It was the last paragraph that had really sent Paula into a spin. The doctor was concerned that Susan’s baby may arrive before the due date so her mother had hinted they might come over a few days earlier. Diane promised to phone before they left. Today was Tuesday. Paula was not expecting them until Friday; how much earlier did her mother mean? Had they left yet? Perhaps they were nearly there.

  She went to the phone and dialled her parents’ number. It rang for a long time then finally went to the answering service. She didn’t leave a message. Perhaps her mother was out. Next Paula rang Alison and once more the only response was her voicemail. She could try her brother-in-law at the shop or perhaps even Susan. It was Tuesday thoug
h, the day Susan and her husband, Jerry, had to themselves and they usually slept in. Susan was only eighteen months older than Paula and was an accomplished chef who’d won several awards. She and Jerry owned three restaurants and Susan was only slowing down now when her first pregnancy was well advanced. Paula didn’t like to disturb her with the baby so close. Perhaps she could try her father’s mobile.

  She reached for the phone again and it rang under her hand, startling her.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello darling.” Paula’s relief at hearing her mother’s voice was short-lived. “We’re in Adelaide. Did Susan call you? We nearly didn’t come. Alison has been having a bad time of it with poor little Oscar. He’s been very sick.”

  “I just tried to ring. I couldn’t get anybody.”

  “Alison and Susan both had doctor’s appointments this morning. I didn’t like to leave them but we’re keeping in touch by phone. They insisted we come. The four-wheel drive is very comfortable to ride in. We had a much quicker trip than Dad had expected and got to Adelaide late last night.”

  Adelaide! Finally her parents’ proximity registered.

  “I tried to ring you Sunday before we left.”

  “We would have been at church.”

  “Oh, that’s nice darling. Do you have one nearby? We’ll be able to go together. I did ask Susan to let you know we’d left early. She’s so preoccupied with the baby she must have forgotten. Now, do you need any supplies from Adelaide? Your father wants to call in on a business friend and I am going to the shops. Do you need any groceries? I can shop for you if you like.”

  “No thanks, Mum. I’ve done the shopping.” Paula couldn’t think what she had in the fridge but she wasn’t letting on.

  “We’ll be there tomorrow, darling. I’m so excited. Here’s your father, he wants directions.”

  Paula’s brain scrambled as she tried to take it all in. Trust Susan to not let her know their parents were on their way. They would be here tomorrow and she wasn’t ready for them. Her father wanted directions and she couldn’t give them. Her hand went to her chest and she clutched at the collar of her shirt.