Heart of Gold

by Fiona Palmer

  CJ finally stopped for a decent breath. It was hard not to get excited when she started talking about it but poor Burt was probably still trying to catch up and figure out what she’d been saying. He gave away no emotion. CJ leaned across the table and held his hand. ‘You don’t have to answer now, but please will you think about it?’

  Burt took a long sip from his glass. ‘CJ, I think it’s a fan tastic idea and I’ll help you any way I can. We’ll get a lease worked out and drawn up as soon as possible. At mates’ rates, of course.’

  ‘Burt, are you sure?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Of course I’m bloody sure. Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.’

  She jumped out of her chair, wrapped her arms around him and whispered ‘thanks’ in his ear.

  Burt squeezed her hand, and CJ could feel how much he cared.

  ‘So, sit down and tell me everything.’

  She did, after topping up their glasses. ‘I’ve already enrolled myself into TAFE for a Certificate III in shearing and that starts in two days. Then I’ll have some qualifications to my name. I might have trouble convincing a few of them when they see they’re going to be taught by a female shearer.’

  ‘Lindsay would have been perfect for this,’ said Burt.

  CJ saw him glance at her, to see whether he’d said the wrong thing.

  She looked sheepish. ‘I think Lindsay would be perfect for this too.’

  Burt pulled out a bit of paper from his front pocket and gave it to CJ. ‘I nearly forgot.’

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘I saw that advertised and thought you outta go in it. It’s on in three weeks. You’re bloody good and you could win cash or prizes to help you. You’re going to need all you can get for the school. A few of my machines are on their last legs. Then there’s handpieces and extra grinders and all the other gear.’

  ‘Yeah, I have thought about all that. I’m hoping to get sponsorship from some of the big names. Doug said he’s going to hunt around for some shearing bits and Irene said she’ll be cook and cleaner slash rousie.’ She looked over at Burt, her big blue eyes twinkling like stars on a clear night.

  ‘I’m sure ya’ll have it all sorted, love. Just don’t forget about entering that competition. I might even come and watch,’ said Burt with a sure smile. ‘Hey, love. I’ll be heading to Perth in a few days to spend some time with my brother. Do you think you could keep an eye on Scabs for me?’

  CJ’s brow creased. ‘You in Perth? You haven’t left the farm since I’ve known you. Are you okay?’

  ‘Everything’s fine. Ross’s been nagging for so long and he’s organised a reunion of sorts to remember our parents, so I thought I’d better make the effort for once. Maybe a certain young lass is making me more in touch with my caring side,’ he said. ‘You know, I’m only an old fool but I am going to miss you,’ mumbled Burt with his head down.

  CJ put her hand on his. ‘Gee, that’s the nicest thing I’ve heard from your lips in a long time, Burt. You really are getting soft in your old age.’ She laughed but then added softly, ‘I’ll miss you too, you old coot.’ She wondered if there was more to Burt’s trip. It was so unlike him to leave the farm.

  ‘Hey, I have an idea. You can bring Chris out some time soon and we can light up the big bonfire out by the sheds.’

  ‘Great idea. I haven’t roasted a marshmallow in ages.’ She glanced at Chris. ‘You’re gonna love it. You can’t live in the country and not have a bonfire.’

  Chris laughed. ‘Sounds great. I can’t let you eat the whole packet of marshmallows.’

  ‘Hot mustard! Sounds like a plan,’ said Burt. ‘So, Chris, if you’re setting up a business in town, I take it you’ll be hanging around for a while?’

  Chris smiled, his teeth white against his smooth olive skin. ‘I hope so, Burt. I’m enjoying the slower pace of the country. I like how everyone says hello or waves when I walk down the street. I was even lucky enough to have my first client before I had opened my doors.’ Chris winked across the table to CJ, looking at her a bit longer than was necessary.

  She laughed. ‘You might not think that way after you’ve had to deal with me for a while.’

  ‘Oh, I know about your right hook so I’ve practised ducking and running.’

  Burt laughed so hard he began to choke on his meat. ‘Hey, Chris, are you any good with sheep?’ he asked after he regained his composure.

  Chris frowned. ‘Is this a trick question?’

  ‘For your sake, say no!’ CJ laughed again as she rose from her chair. ‘Who’s up for another beer?’

  34

  TOM was home alone and as usual there was crap on TV. He found himself wandering through the house and ended up in Dot’s room. His old room. He hadn’t slept in here for years. It hadn’t changed much. Dot still had the same flower-patterned quilt cover on the bed. After they had bought the house, before his accident, they’d started to renovate. They’d managed to paint inside and out. Dot had had big plans for the place – said it’d have beautiful floorboards and heaps of potential. Like so much else.

  Tom sat on the bed and glanced at the corner of the room. Anyone else would have just seen a spot where two sheets of plaster meet, but Tom saw a small cot, covered with blue lace. He would never forget the day he lost his son, little Rick. Tom could still picture him asleep and recall the cooing sounds he used to make. He had left them, just like that. It was a normal morning and Tom had got out of bed, got dressed and stopped by Rick’s cot on his way out, just as he always did. Rick looked sound asleep but his colour was gone and when Tom reached out to touch his soft cheek, he was lifeless and cold. Just like that. When the ambulance got there, they said there was nothing anyone could have done. Dot had been distraught – they both had. If it hadn’t been for CJ, who was nearly two, they might never have recovered. But her tiny toddler arms had hugged them so tight, and her demand for attention and care had soon forced them to continue with life. Having Emily thirteen months later also helped them. She’d been a demanding baby who always kept Dot busy. During that period Tom had spent a lot of time with Catherine, and they’d formed a close bond. But the hurt had never gone away.

  Tom glanced at Dot’s bedside table. A picture was turned towards the wall and he picked it up. It was a family photo they’d had taken when CJ was eight. Tom still had all his hair and his lean figure, and Dotty was a vision in a fitted blue dress. Emily was just learning how to tie her shoelaces and loved everything pink. He touched the picture. CJ had her hair in two piggy tails and her smile melted even his old, decrepit heart. He was a lucky man the day Dot said yes to him. And to think what he’d dragged them into, his most treasured girls. He just hadn’t been able to stop his downward spiral. Maybe he should have got help, but that wasn’t something blokes did. Men were supposed to battle it out without discussing their feelings. But times were changing, or so CJ had tried to tell him once. She had wanted him to see someone, but he was already past help, and too set in his ways.

  Dot had mentioned how well CJ was doing with her shearing. He would love to see her shearing, but he knew it’d never happen. It would be too painful to walk into a shearing shed – all those memories and smells he’d tried so hard to forget. He hardly saw her these days. It was good to know CJ was content but he knew both she and Dot would be even better without him around. He dragged them down, and he knew Dot was scared of him. It killed him to see what she’d turned into because of him. Once she had been strong and confident to speak her mind, but now she resembled a frail old lady. He put the photo down and noticed her bottle of medication. Tom knew she had anxiety problems, and trouble sleeping. He shook the bottle. It had a few left and he could see a full bottle on the bedhead.

  Suddenly it all came into perspective. His way out – their way out. It would solve all their problems. To him it just seemed right. It had always been at the back of his mind, and now he had the means to do it.

  Carrying the pills, he left her room and headed to the sp
are room. In his top draw he pulled out the last of his own medication, along with a pen and a piece of paper. He scribbled the words, I’m sorry. I love you. Then he lay down on his bed and opened the first bottle. Although he didn’t believe in God, he prayed that his girls would forgive him. A lone tear rolled down his cheek, then more came. He hoped it wasn’t too late for Dot to start again. He owed her this. He smiled through his tears as he thought of the freedom he’d soon have.

  35

  IT was an overcast afternoon and the wind was up, blowing the salt from the dry lakes around the cemetery. Chris parked his mum’s dark green Ford Fairmont on the hilltop near the cemetery, which overlooked Lake Moore. It was a spectacular view. CJ was sure the people buried here appreciated it.

  They were the first to arrive behind the hearse. Chris sat quietly in the front seat and CJ looked out the passenger window. Her mum was doing the same in the back, with Emily holding her hand. They both wore the same listless expressions. Emily hadn’t been home in two years. She wasn’t as tall as CJ, but had similar blue eyes. CJ sighed and opened her door. Chris, Dot and Emily followed suit.

  The ceremony had been short and sweet – a no-nonsense affair without the religious hoo-ha. Just the way Tom would have liked it. Not many had come – Tom had burned a lot of bridges in his time – and those who came did it for his wife and daughters. Not that CJ had felt much emotion this past week. Tom’s note had made them cry. He hadn’t told them he loved them in the last six years. They cried for the last glimpse of the man he used to be, but felt devoid of any other emotion. How do you grieve for a man you no longer knew? In truth, they had mourned Tom years ago.

  ‘You okay?’ Chris had come up next to CJ and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Her mum stood off to the side, holding Emily’s hand and talking to Burt and Joe. She glanced up at Chris. She hadn’t known him long but she really appreciated him being here for her. He was so like Irene – compassionate, understanding.

  ‘I’m fine. It’s just all a bit weird, you know. He’s gone. What do we do now? I’m only just realising there’s no more babysitting, no more expensive prescriptions, no more alcohol frenzies. But it seems mean to think like that.’

  Chris’s large green eyes swam with warmth. ‘Just figure it out slowly.’

  Burt came over and held her close to his chest. CJ pressed herself against what was obviously a new black dress shirt.

  ‘You scrub up all right,’ she told him and was rewarded with his deep laugh. CJ saw Irene and Paul behind Burt and gave them a wave. ‘It’s nice to see the shearing crew here.’

  Dot came up to her and threaded her tiny arm into CJ’s, so she had a daughter on each side. ‘Shall we get this thing going, love?’

  CJ looked down at her mum. The top of Dot’s head only came to her chin. CJ definitely got her height from her dad’s side.

  ‘Yeah, they’re waiting for us. Let’s go,’ CJ said, nodding towards the funeral directors who were standing by the hearse.

  Chris, Burt, Joe, Emily, Doug and CJ each took a shiny silver handle as the casket was taken out of the car. They followed the funeral director to Tom’s plot, his own patch of earth overlooking the lake. People fell into step behind them. The crunch of their shoes on the gravel and a crow arking in a tree were the only sounds as they carried Tom’s body towards his final resting place. She tried not to think of him lying inside.

  Everyone wore sunglasses, but CJ and Dot had done their crying. Emily had shed some tears when she first got home, but CJ thought that was probably due to a whole lot of things: being back in that house, seeing Mum and now not having a dad.

  Everything had become so quiet at home, except the loud ticking of the clock. CJ would come home from work and expect to see him sitting there, watching TV. But the couch was empty and the room silent. It was something she and Dot would have to get used to.

  Dot didn’t want to stay in the house any more and CJ had suggested they sell it so she could get one of those new little units in town. It was all she’d need. Dot had liked that idea. But there was no rush to figure out big things like that.

  The funeral director cleared his throat and they began lowering the casket into the ground. CJ felt a hand on her back and turned to see Irene and Paul. She reached out and Irene took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘Tom had his problems,’ the funeral director began, ‘but today we will remember the man he was in his younger years. The great shearer with a brilliant right hook, and the dedicated father to CJ and Emily.’

  CJ felt like laughing, but forced herself to remember the dad she had before the accident, before the depression and the destruction. When he used to tuck her into bed and read her books. There were good moments to remember. As the funeral director spoke she recalled the time they had packed a picnic lunch and gone to the rock where Dot and Tom had first got together. It was a gorgeous spring day and her mum had pointed out the Donkey and Spider orchids as they trekked through the bush. It had been a steep climb and she remembered her dad reaching down and lifting her up over his head as if she’d been a feather. From his shoulders she’d looked out over the world like she was a giant, before letting Emily have a turn. It had been wonderful. CJ flicked a stray tear out from under her sunglasses as the coffin reached its resting place.

  Slowly people left until only Irene, Paul, Burt, Chris, Emily, Dot and CJ were left. They were all coming back to their house for drinks and tea, along with Dot’s friend from work, Joy. CJ remained by her father’s grave, staring down into the hole. The smell of the muddy clay earth was strong.

  ‘Hey, sis.’ Emily put her arm around CJ’s waist and rested her head on her big sister’s shoulder. Emily sighed heavily. ‘You know, when you called to say he’d died, the first thing I thought was how happy we’d all be and how you and Mum wouldn’t have to put up with his crap any more.’ She paused and CJ nodded. ‘But… then I started to cry. I thought I hated him – I wanted to hate him – but part of me still loves him.’ Emily glanced up with half a smile, her blue eyes glistening with fresh tears. Her sunglasses perched on her head and held back her blonde waves. ‘How could I not love him, when really… we had a great childhood? Before his accident he was the best dad in the world and it’s hard to write him off completely when I have all those wonderful memories with him.’

  CJ stroked Emily’s back. ‘Yeah, I know exactly how you feel, Em. I remember the way he pushed you in a box on the lawn for ages when you were about five. You were laughing so much, begging him to keep going, and he did. You were on the lawn for hours playing and then he swung me on the clothesline till I was dizzy.’

  ‘Yeah, Mum hated us swinging off the Hills hoist. Dad always spoilt us like that. Why, CJ?’ Emily’s voice was muffled in CJ’s shirt. ‘Why couldn’t he be happy with us, with the life he had left?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess depression is a hard thing to overcome. Especially back in Dad’s day. It probably wasn’t well known, and they didn’t have the people or medication to help.’

  ‘Is that why your boyfriend left?’

  Such an innocent question, yet CJ felt her body tense and the tears build up. If Em had asked that question over the phone from Perth, she’d probably have taken offence, thinking it was Em being flippant. But now? Seeing her sister brought it all back into perspective. She’d felt strange seeing Em in their house, but they were family, and she loved her sister. She knew Em was asking sincerely.

  ‘I think so.’ The pain of Lindsay leaving was still so raw. Anything that reminded her of him seemed to dig the knife in all over again. ‘Linds was so angry and I guess he thought he was doing the best thing he could by leaving me. He didn’t want to end up like our dad.’

  ‘Can you blame him? He must really love you,’ said Emily.

  One thing CJ was sure of – she still loved him. She wondered if Doug told Lindsay about Tom’s death. Maybe he thought it wasn’t his place. Maybe he thought Lindsay was better off not knowing. He didn’t come to the funer
al. Probably a good thing, especially if he was only going to leave again.

  Emily squeezed her and kissed her cheek before letting go. ‘Come on. It’s time for a drink. I’ll go get Mum, okay?’

  Emily walked off, her short black skirt swishing against her slim legs. CJ moved her arms, circulating the air. It was a hot October day and the heat simmered across the top of the bare, crusty lake.

  ‘Do you think your mum will be okay?’

  CJ turned to Irene, who was wearing a black overcoat. Black suited her blonde hair, which was out of its bun today and blowing loosely.

  ‘Mum’ll be fine. I don’t think she’s quite figured out how free she is.’

  CJ caught a glimpse of Dot walking ahead with Emily. Yes, she’d be fine. With a bit of luck, the spark of life would eventually return to her blue eyes.

  36

  ‘LINDSAY?’

  So much for peace and quiet, thought Lindsay as he tried to catch a moment to himself. He was hot, even though he was wearing work shorts and a worn white T-shirt. Luckily he’d found his old cool spot in the workshop, up in the mezzanine floor where hardly anyone ever went. They kept all their odd bits up there, like manuals for machinery, tools they rarely used, a collection of old numberplates and signs. Lindsay sat in the corner on the floor with his body resting against the cold metal of the gun safe.

  They had just about finished their canola and had a few days before they would be cutting into the barley.

  ‘There you are,’ said Des, climbing the stairs. ‘You were always up here when you were a kid.’

  Des sat down across from Lindsay on an old tin chest. He’d been really easy to get along with since he’d been back, and Lindsay appreciated it.

  Lindsay glanced at Des, who was admiring the collection of old magazines as if he’d forgotten they were there. He was quiet but still looked imposing. It seemed like Des was waiting for him, and Lindsay thought he knew why.