“I haven’t. I don’t know about Dan.”
“Rowena overlooked it this year. I recommend you have them.”
Paula thanked him and helped the grumbling Rowena out to the car.
“The bed is made up in the spare room. The doctor wants you to stay with us for a few days.”
“He can say what he likes. You can take me home to my house. I want to sleep in my own bed.”
“He’s worried about you,” Paula said. The day had come in cold again and she put the car heaters on as they left the town behind and followed the bitumen towards home.
“Piffle! I’ve got a touch of the flu. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. I shouldn’t have gone in to see the young worry wart. Take me straight home.”
“You need someone to look after you.”
“Rubbish. I’ve been looking after myself for more years than you’ve had hot dinners. No need to change now.” Rowena fanned her face with her hand. “Do we have to have these heaters on?” She burst into another round of the racking dry cough.
Paula glanced at her in concern. The older woman looked quite flushed as she shut her eyes and leaned her head back in the seat. Paula turned off the heater and drove on, wondering what to do. Rowena was so determined. Paula didn’t like to disobey her but she was worried about her staying alone.
Then Paula had an idea. She turned on the dreaded two-way radio and picked up the handset. The dual cab swerved slightly as she juggled the unfamiliar contraption.
Rowena opened her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Calling Dan.” Paula’s reply sounded calmer than she felt. “I can’t imagine what he’ll say if he knows I’ve taken you home when the doctor wants you to stay with us.”
Rowena snapped off the two-way. “Do you want the whole district to know my business? I’ll have every old busybody within cooee visiting and bringing me chicken broth.” She coughed again. Paula hung on to the handpiece and waited for her to stop.
Rowena flopped her head back and Paula saw her lips move.
“Pardon?” Paula leaned closer.
“I said all right. Take me home to Wood Dell.”
Paula glanced at Rowena again, wondering what she meant. Then she remembered Wood Dell was the old family name for Dan and Paula’s place. Her lips twitched. Well, you can have that round, Paula, she thought to herself. But her smugness was short-lived. The notion of Rowena under her roof didn’t exactly fill her with joy.
CHAPTER
19
Paula took Rowena in through the back door. They had to step around a plastic bag. Paula noticed there was a note attached. She didn’t have time to investigate. They were greeted by the miserable bleats of the lamb from the sleep-out and a prancing Tarzan who shot between their legs and out the door.
“That’s all I need,” Rowena grumbled. “A room in a zoo.”
Paula ignored her complaints and settled her on the couch in the lounge. Another coughing fit from Rowena sent Paula scurrying for a jug of water and a glass to put beside the invalid, who refused offers of anything else.
“Don’t fuss over me. You do what you have to do. I want to sleep.” Rowena promptly shut her eyes.
Paula’s fingers itched in irritation. Right at the moment she could easily have given Rowena a piece of her mind. Looking after Rowena was the last thing Paula wanted to do but they were stuck with each other. She was distracted by the cries of the lamb.
Back in the kitchen, Paula followed the instructions on the packet to make up the lamb’s formula. She frowned over the directions, worried she would make up the wrong proportions. The guy at the stock agents had urged her to be exact.
Tarzan was scratching to be let back in.
“Sorry,” she said as she opened the door. “I forgot to find out about the dog flap.”
He turned his head to one side, peering up at her with a forgiving look. Once more the pathetic bleating drew her attention.
Tarzan followed her into the sleep-out and watched as she climbed over the barricade and started feeding the lamb.
“You poor little thing.” The lamb sucked frantically until only the dregs remained in the bottle. “You must have been hungry.”
The newspaper was wet and mucky in parts. Paula replaced it and met Dan and Tom coming in the back door as she’d finished.
“How’s Rowena?” Dan picked up the plastic bag that still sat just inside the door.
“The doctor says she has the flu. He thinks we should have flu shots.”
“I haven’t had one before.”
“Neither have I.”
“We’re young and fit.” Dan winked at her.
“The doctor wants Rowena to stay here until she’s feeling better. She’s in the lounge.”
“I’ll go and see her. Tom and I haven’t had lunch yet. Any chance you could rustle us up something?”
Paula glanced at her watch. It was nearly two. She realised she was hungry as well. “I’ll wash up then I’ll get something.”
“Can I see the lamb?” Tom asked.
“Sure, then go into the kitchen and I’ll organise some food.”
Dan and Tom both came in as she put a plate of sandwiches and bowls of Dara’s soup on the table.
“Rowena says she doesn’t want food but she’s asked me to collect some clothes from her place. I don’t like to go through her things. Would you mind going, Sweet Pea?”
“I don’t like the thought of going through her things either.” Paula’s voice rose in protest.
“Yes, but at least you’re a woman. It’s female stuff.”
Paula held his pleading look for a moment. “Okay.”
“That lamb looks like it’s doing okay,” Tom said. “No sign of scouring yet.”
“It would have only had one feed of formula.” Dan piled sandwiches on his plate.
“What’s scouring?” Paula asked between mouthfuls of Dara’s old-fashioned beef broth.
“Their stomachs don’t always tolerate the change from ewe’s milk to formula,” Dan said.
Paula looked up from her soup expectantly. She still wasn’t sure what scouring meant.
“It goes straight through them,” Tom mumbled, his mouth full of sandwich. “Comes out the other end as liquid poo and runs everywhere. Poor little things poop themselves to death.”
Paula’s stomach lurched and she sat back from her bowl of soup.
“Sorry, Paula, excuse me. But so far there’s no sign with this one,” he added reassuringly and went back to chomping his way through another sandwich.
“It’s early days yet.” Dan’s voice was gentle, though the look in his blue eyes was sad. “Don’t get too attached.”
Paula carried the remains of her soup to the sink. Suddenly she didn’t fancy beef broth any more.
* * *
It was strange going into Rowena’s house, knowing Rowena wasn’t there. The last time Paula had come she’d taken a quick look at the farm books. Now she immediately felt like a snoop.
Rowena had given her a list of items to collect from the bedroom. Sleepwear, clothes and underwear, a hot-water bottle and some slippers and dressing-gown. Paula stepped into the large front bedroom and stopped. Like the rest of Rowena’s house it was well furnished but this room definitely had a more feminine stamp.
The walls were a soft buttercup yellow and the double brass bed was covered in a quilt of deeper yellow, patterned with pink flowers. The curtain fabric matched the quilt but there was nothing else flowery in the room. Above the bed was a series of pictures, all the same size and framed identically in honey-coloured wood. Paula looked more closely to see they were paintings by Tom Roberts, all scenes of Australian pioneering days.
The quilt was thrown back and an old-fashioned wicker bed tray sat to one side with the remains of Rowena’s breakfast still on it. Paula picked up the thick maroon dressing-gown from the end of the bed and put it in a bag with the slippers from the floor.
Then she took the tray to the kitchen and washed up t
he breakfast dishes, before returning to the bedroom and making the bed. That was the easy part. There was still the rest of the list of items Rowena had requested.
Paula crossed to the old tallboy and tried to remember which drawers Rowena had told her to look in for the other items of clothing. She felt like a thief digging through the drawers.
The underwear was easy, all neatly folded into the top drawer. A tracksuit was in exactly the spot described in the third drawer, but it was the pyjama drawer that surprised Paula. It was a neatly organised collection of bed wear, from full-length flannelette pyjamas to beautiful lacy cotton nightdresses. There were also two or three embroidered satin negligees with matching robes. Paula ran her fingers over a midnight-blue silky number.
“Well, well, Rowena, very sexy,” she murmured. “You never should judge a book by its cover.”
She left the satin gear and shoved some flannelette pyjamas in the bag with the other things and then remembered the book and tablets Rowena said were on the bedside table. They lay between the only other things on the table, a lamp and a photo frame. Paula glanced at the photo. A rather handsome man had his arm around a smiling Rowena. He was slightly taller than her with a thick head of dark hair greying at the temples. It was a fairly recent photo judging by Rowena’s appearance. Paula wondered who the man was.
It wasn’t a brother. Dan’s father was her only sibling. Perhaps a cousin but Dan had never mentioned other relatives. Maybe he was a family friend. Paula looked back at the photo after she’d added the book and the tablets to the bag. Rowena’s eyes sparkled from the picture.
Paula thought about Rowena’s frequent trips to town. She loved the football and had a member’s ticket for the Adelaide Oval where she often sat with a friend. Paula had assumed that the friend was a woman but maybe it was a man. Surely Dan would know. She felt a little guilty prying in Rowena’s private life but her curiosity was roused. She closed the curtains, picked up the bag and left the room keen to ask Dan what he knew.
* * *
The microwave whirred as it heated the formula. Paula rested her head on the wall as she watched it go round. It was five in the morning and she didn’t feel as if she had slept at all. The kitchen was very cold. The little blow heater struggled to warm the big space and no curtains in the window left a large expanse of cold glass.
She could hear the faint bleating of the lamb in the distance. She’d fed it at nine o’clock and then one o’clock and now here it was, wanting to be fed again.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped. She hadn’t heard Dan enter the kitchen behind her.
“Feeding the lamb – again.”
“It should only be four hourly.”
“That’s what I’m doing. I swear it’s got a clock inside it that goes off at the exact minute four hours is up.”
“But you’ve been out of bed more than that.”
“Your aunt has been coughing and coughing. I’ve been in to her several times. The room is so cold but I don’t want to heat it because the tablets don’t seem to be lowering her temperature much. One minute she’s shivering and the next she’s throwing off the quilt. I’m worried about her.”
“You poor thing.” Dan pulled her in close. “Why didn’t you wake me? I could have done something.”
“I don’t know what…” Another bout of distant coughing joined the bleating of the lamb. “There she goes again. All she’s had are sips of water and cordial. She says her throat is raw and her chest hurts.”
The microwave beeped to announce the formula was ready.
“Why don’t I feed the lamb and you see to Rowena. Then you should go back to bed for a while. I don’t want you getting sick as well.”
“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully at him then pulled her dressing-gown tighter around her and left the warm kitchen for Rowena’s bedroom. Just as well Alison sent the dressing-gown, she mused. It wasn’t something Paula had thought she’d have much use for.
She tapped on the door and entered the spare room. The bedside lamp was on and Rowena was standing shivering by the bed.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?” she asked.
“Oh!” Rowena spun around and swayed on her feet.
Paula rushed towards her.
“I’ll be fine.” Rowena held up her hand up. “Don’t fuss.”
“I heard you coughing again.” Paula was very tired and she’d just about had enough of Rowena’s churlish behaviour. “I wondered if you needed anything.”
Rowena swayed again and sat down heavily on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Paula. Between that blasted lamb and me you’ve probably had no sleep either. Don’t worry about me. I think my temperature is lowering at last but now I’m saturated and the sheets are too.” Rowena shivered. The room was very cold.
“Why don’t you go into the lounge and change?” Paula suggested. “I’ve kept the fire going in there, and I can change the sheets for you.”
“I can change the sheets.”
“Rowena, really, it’s okay. It won’t take me long. You go into the lounge and get warm.”
To Paula’s amazement, the older woman gathered her things and left without another word. Well, wonders will never cease, Mrs Woodcroft. You may be able to soothe the savage beast yet!
* * *
Bright morning light shone around the blinds. Paula struggled to open her eyes. She blinked briefly, trying to recollect what day it was. Her head was hazy from lack of sleep. She glanced at the bedside clock and sat up with a jolt. It was ten o’clock.
Her dressing-gown lay across the end of the bed where she’d left it only a few hours earlier. You and me are becoming old friends, she thought, as she dragged it on and made her way down the passage. Rowena’s door was shut and there was no sound coming from inside but as she opened the passage door she could hear the bleats of the lamb. It had been at least five hours since Dan had fed it for her.
In the kitchen were the remains of breakfast. Dan would have gone off to work ages ago. She quickly mixed another lot of formula. The strong smell made her empty stomach squirm.
“Here I come, little fella,” she said as she pushed open the door. The lamb rushed towards her. “It hasn’t taken you long to work out where your next feed’s coming from…oh!” Paula gagged at the sight of the brown muck caked down the lamb’s legs and the smell of the liquid manure that it had spread everywhere with its little hooves. “Don’t tell me you’re not well.”
Paula leaned over the barricade to feed the lamb and used her other hand to cover her mouth and nose. The lamb devoured the bottle as quickly and happily as usual. Its little tail, which whizzed back and forth, was also caked in the putrid brown liquid.
“What am I going to do with you? You’re filthy.”
She decided bathing it was the only option. In the laundry she put some warm water in the old cement trough, then she added some liquid wool wash. Gingerly holding the struggling lamb at arms-length, she carried it to the laundry and, standing it in the trough, used a rag to wash the muck from its backside, legs and tail.
“This will clean you up. And I’m only using the best quality wool wash.” Her giggles turned to concern as the lamb struggled. She didn’t want it to get wet all over. The only towel was an old beach towel Dan used to wipe his hands. She used that to dry the lamb off.
Its box and bedding were still clean and dry so she tucked it back in and carried it into the kitchen to put it by the heater. Then came the revolting job of cleaning up all the putrid newspaper and laying out fresh sheets.
Back in the laundry, she’d just put Rowena’s sheets in the machine when a scratching sound at the back door reminded her she hadn’t seen Tarzan this morning. Dan must have let him out.
She opened the door to reveal a small dog the same size as Tarzan but it was dark brown all over, with hardly a white patch on it.
“Tarzan! What have you been doing?”
The little dog sank down on all four legs and
lowered its head to its front paws.
“Now I’ll have to wash you as well.” With a fresh lot of water in the laundry trough she put Tarzan in and washed him. “You’ll have to have the royal wool wash treatment as well. I don’t have any dog shampoo.”
Tarzan didn’t seem to mind her ministrations. She rubbed him down with the towel and he gave himself a vigorous shake, took a couple of bites of dog food then pattered off to the kitchen. By the time Paula followed him he was curled up by the lamb’s box in front of the heater, fast asleep.
She cleared up the breakfast dishes and hummed to herself. Her two little charges were fed and washed and sleeping peacefully. Once she straightened up the kitchen she’d be ready to start the day. The plastic bag Dan had carried inside yesterday still waited on the dresser.
Paula looked at the note. ‘Sorry we missed you. I used these before I got my new lounge curtains. They might do for the kitchen till you find what you want. Jane.’
Paula tugged open the bag and pulled out some calico curtains on rings. She’d have to give Jane a call to say thanks. It was kind of her and the curtains certainly would help for now.
“Dan made me some breakfast.”
“Rowena, you startled me.” Paula looked up from her parcel. “Are you feeling better?”
“My cough’s chesty, my nose is streaming and I feel giddy when I stand up.”
I’m glad I asked, thought Paula, then she saw Rowena sway and moved quickly towards her.
“What have you been doing?” Rowena stared disdainfully at the front of Paula.
Paula looked down. The front of her pretty blue dressing-gown was covered in brown smudges and smears. Whether it was poo or mud she couldn’t be sure.
“Damn!” She looked reproachfully at the two sleeping animals.
“I’m going to need more things from my place today.” Rowena lowered herself carefully into a chair. “I’ve got one of those little oil-filled heaters at home. It’s so cold in this house and I want my hankies. I can’t tolerate tissues. There should be mail today and you’ll need to get the food from the freezer for the shearers. Have you planned what you’re giving them yet?”
A Chance of Stormy Weather Page 23
