by Cathryn Hein
As she floated on hope, Muffy slid on quiet paws to her basket.
Fifteen
Josh held up the blanket for Em and let it drop around her, smiling as she wriggled her cold skin against him. He’d offered to help sort the animals but she’d ordered him to stay and keep the bed warm. A chore he’d dutifully done, even if he was now suffering for it.
He curled his arm around her and kissed her hair. ‘Your feet are freezing.’
‘Sorry.’ She twined them further with his, her toes like ice cubes against the tops of his feet.
‘No, you’re not.’ He kissed her hair again, and rested his cheek against the silky strands. She had beautiful hair, richly coloured and soft. Her skin was the same. Finely textured, his fingers gliding over it like satin. Josh had worried his fingers were too rough, too abraded by timber and the scars left from countless splinters and cuts, but Em had assured him they were perfect. A real man’s fingers, she’d called them.
She wormed her way further into his hold, seeking body heat. ‘What are you up to today?’
‘Not much.’ He stroked the velvety curve of her shoulder. ‘Sally’s later. I promised to teach the boys the finer arts of footy in exchange for roast lamb and sticky date pudding, although with this weather I guess I’ll be stuck with Matchbox car races instead.’
‘I hope you let them win.’
‘What sort of uncle do you think I am? Of course I don’t let them win.’
She laughed and shifted to rest her upper body across his chest, and placed her chin on her folded hands. He felt himself rouse at the touch of her. ‘Must be nice to have nephews to play with.’
‘They’re great. Though they can be little shits sometimes, too.’ He reached for a coil of her hair, twined it around his finger and let go. As it unwound, the strands took on different highlights, before springing back to curl gently around her face. ‘The way Digby’s going he’ll be producing some for you soon.’
‘I hope so, although I hope they get married first.’
Josh regarded her with surprise. ‘Bit of an old-fashioned attitude.’
She laughed. ‘It’s not me. I don’t care what they do, but could you imagine Gran’s response to an illegitimate great-grandchild? We’d never hear the end of it.’
‘The Wallaces must have had a few in their time, surely.’
‘They have, although it was easier to ignore them in the past. Gilbert was reported to have had at least five illegitimate offspring, two of them Aboriginal.’
‘Charmer.’
‘He was an unprincipled pig of a man from what I can gather.’
‘Times were different then. What’s that saying? The past is a different country?’
‘“The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.” It’s the opening line of The Go-Between by L.P. Hartley.’ Suddenly Em’s smile dipped. Swapping her chin for her cheek she closed her eyes and continued, face turned away. ‘It’s about childhood innocence and social hierarchy, friendship and betrayal, and how past actions can affect entire lives.’
She fell quiet. Josh frowned down at her head, wondering what the hell he’d done to cause this change in mood. He stroked her back and waited until he could stand it no more.
‘Hey.’ He set his hands under her arms to tug her further up his chest. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t tell me nothing, Em. Not after last night.’
Not after she’d said he’d mattered.
She remained quiet for a long while and he could feel her thinking. Finally, she spoke. ‘How fit are you feeling this morning?’
He studied her face, trying to work out where the hell this was going. ‘Fit enough. Why?’
‘I want you to climb the hill with me.’
‘We’ll have to walk round,’ said Em, resting her hiking boot on the back verandah rail and lacing it tight. ‘There’s been a slip at the quarry. Heritage have made it strictly off limits.’
‘That never used to stop you.’
‘For once I think they’re right. The edges were looking unstable when I took Dig and Felicity up the hill. It’s bound to be worse after all the rain.’
Josh scanned the sky as they walked. The wind remained up, keeping the cloud layer moving and with it the threat of rain. They wore raincoats in case. Em had given Josh a worn three-quarter-length oilskin from the farm’s collection of spares. In one of the pockets he’d discovered a few tattered Minties that seemed, from their hardness, to have been there for years. They probably had, Em told him, given the lollies most likely belonged to her late Uncle James.
The tourist car park was empty, the rubber and chain swings of the attached small children’s playground limp. Em dodged puddles as she headed for the gravel track that wound back and forth across the south face of the crater in a series of steps and steep inclines. Josh followed close as she began the climb, primed to steady her if she stumbled or slipped. The track was in a poor state, eroded with deep gullies and washed-out steps. Stony avalanches had left trails down the outer sides, flattening bracken and grass.
‘I’ll have to keep a check on the paper for working bees,’ she said, her breath shortened from the ascent. ‘They’ll need all the help they can get with this damage.’
‘Let me know. I can lend a hand if I’m free.’
As they climbed, the lowest clouds began to burn away, and sunshine and bright blue sky filled the rapidly expanding spaces. The remaining clouds were heavy, with dark grey bellies, but drifted fast, casting strange shadows that made the rock face above them flicker from dark to light, as though the crater throbbed with life.
Despite the cold, Josh arrived at the peak with his forehead speckled with sweat. His thighs, still sore from football, groaned from the effort. Em’s skin shone with good health and exertion, her cheeks a becoming pink that triggered visions of how she looked in bed. Rocking Horse Hill had always excited her. It had once excited him too, although differently. The hill meant being alone with her. For Em it was something more visceral.
He was curious as to why they were here. Curious, and a little apprehensive. He thought they’d reached an understanding last night. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Momentous things had happened on the hill. Here they’d touched, kissed. Here he’d looked into her hazel eyes, swallowed hard, and said, ‘I love you’. They’d made love on their special rock ledge, defined their future life. Drafted plans.
He’d lost her here too.
Josh turned to the south and watched a herd of Friesian dairy cows lumber down a lane towards their day paddock, remembering. Full of hurt, he’d driven to Rocking Horse Hill, desperate to learn it wasn’t true. That what he’d heard was a lie. Adrienne had directed him up the crater, where she said Em had been most of the day. He’d sprinted up the hill paddock, circled the edge of the quarry, scrambled up the rock face, and found Em sitting at the top, legs tucked up to her chest with her arms locked around them. She turned, her eyes red, her cheeks messy with tears. Then she’d lifted her chin at his approach, her expression taking on that haughty coldness he thought he’d broken past forever, and he knew.
He’d wanted to fall to his knees. Roar. Do something, anything to block her out. Instead, he placed his hands on his hips, legs apart to brace himself, and invited catastrophe in. She’d hesitated then nodded once in answer to his question and turned away to refocus on the farm. Josh had stared for a long time, brain whirling, wanting to bellow at her, wanting to cry, wanting to know what the fuck he’d done wrong. Wanting, most of all, to know why.
But there was no point. That night at Camrick had provided a glimpse of her feelings and her cheating had proved his deepest fear. Josh simply wasn’t good enough.
He’d taken the long route back to his car, along the tourist path and Stanislaus Road, keeping out of her view. The same path they’d taken today. He just hoped it didn’t end the same way.
Em touched his arm, pulling him back to the present. ‘Can I show y
ou something?’
She led him anticlockwise around the crater. Wind tugged at his oilskin and tossed Em’s hair. A goshawk hovered on a thermal, hunting, then wheeled away with a screech, the sound disturbing in the morning loneliness. Josh concentrated on his footing and tried to push aside the wariness clenching his stomach.
Glancing behind to check he’d understood, Em dropped off the path and eased down the slope. He followed, scanning the crater for any erosion, but the rock here was solid, the footholds intact, and Em’s footing sure.
The morning sun was still low enough to brighten their secret ledge. Em climbed up and eased across to make room for Josh, her legs dangling into the void below. He glanced to the side where the heart he’d once spent an afternoon laboriously carving lay between them.
Something leaden settled inside him. Josh looked at his hands, his left curled on his thigh, as it always was to hide his injury, and spoke quietly. ‘If your plan is to dump me like before then I suggest you get it over with. This place has enough memories without adding that to it.’
Em drew in her breath sharply. ‘No.’ Shaking her head, she repeated the word, dismay drawing it out, as if she couldn’t believe what he’d said. ‘No, it’s not that.’ She paused for a moment, as though gathering herself, and continued. ‘I need to explain.’
He stared out over the plain, at the idle centre pivots, pastures and crops. ‘Let me guess. About why you cheated.’
‘Yes.’
Josh wasn’t sure he wanted to know. To what end, anyway? ‘What’s the point, Em?’
‘The point is that you’ll never trust me until I do.’
Mouth pursed, he dipped his head. She was right. He might love her but trusting her was proving hard. ‘I never understood. I thought we had something magic. Then all of a sudden it was gone.’
‘We did. And then. . .’ She spread her hands, lifted them and let them fall as if words weren’t enough. ‘You had all these great dreams. Finishing your apprenticeship, you and your dad going into business. Getting married.’
‘They were good dreams, Em.’
‘I know. But to me back then they seemed so ordinary.’
He stared at her then turned away, his jaw like iron. ‘Gee, thanks.’
‘I was a Wallace, Josh. On top of that I was school captain, then I was crowned Miss Showgirl. I was the best rider in pony club. I’d won a dozen champion hacks and champion riders on the show circuit. I’d buy clothes that cost more than some people earned in a month. I thought all that made me special. Someone important.’ She hauled in a breath. ‘I was a snob. And that night at Camrick. . .’ Biting her lip, she shook her head. ‘You were so nervous and struggling to fit in.’
‘Because that fuckwit Jacobs was trying to cut my grass. And doing a good job of it too. Jesus, Em, how did you expect me to be?’
‘I don’t know. Better somehow. I was young and stupid.’ Liquid started to gather against her lower eyelids but Josh struggled to find sympathy. They should never have started this conversation. All it did was resurrect his anger and humiliation.
‘So why bother with me in the first place? Or was our whole time together just you enjoying a bit of sport at my expense?’
‘No!’
‘For fuck’s sake, Em. What am I supposed to think? You’ve made it sound like you never loved me. That all through it was just this big lie. What sort of fool does that make me?’
The tears fell.
He closed his eyes and turned away for a moment. ‘Why couldn’t you have just said? Why did you have to go and cheat?’
‘You were so in love, Josh. All those plans. . .’ She stared at her open palms. ‘I got it into my mind that you’d never let me go.’
‘I would have. If that’s what you’d really wanted.’
Except that was a lie. He wouldn’t have. He loved her too much.
‘I know that now but back then I was too stupid to see how it could work. So I did what I did to force your hand.’ Her eyes were enormous and sad. ‘I’m sorry. You have no idea how much.’ She was quiet a moment. ‘I find it hard to reconcile that I could be that selfish, that cruel to someone I loved. It still shames me.’
Josh couldn’t help thinking ‘good’, but then softened a fraction when he saw the deep reproach in her expression. Carrying around that weight of guilt mustn’t have been easy. But neither was what she’d put him through. ‘Why Stephen Jacobs? You knew what a fuckwit I thought he was.’
‘For that exact reason. I knew it would take someone like him to stop you from trying to get me back.’
He absorbed that. Anyone else and he could have competed, but Jacobs was from an old family like Em’s. His family were graziers, owned two historic sheep and cattle properties on the fertile red-gum country to the north-west of town. They were part of the local rural aristocracy. An aristocracy that reality had seen long past, but still existed in the district’s psyche.
‘I wanted to. I had great ideas of belting the crap out of him and you suddenly realising that I was a bigger and better man than he’d ever be.’
‘Really?’
He nodded. He’d had all sorts of ideas for a while, before the bitterness took over.
‘So why didn’t you?’
‘Too proud and too shit-scared that you’d think I was a dickhead. And it would’ve upset Mum.’
A smiled twitched. ‘Not that you’d be beaten?’
He gave her a ‘you’re kidding’ look. He could have belted Stephen Jacobs into tomorrow if he wanted, weedy little fuck. ‘No, I was just smart enough to see that I’d never be good enough for you no matter what I did. I told myself you weren’t worth it anyway.’
Em hung her head. ‘I wasn’t. Not then.’
‘And now?’
‘I’d like you to think so.’
Josh thought of the mistakes they’d both made, of how they’d grown and changed. He wanted a love he could have faith in. The security of knowing she wanted the same future as him. That she wouldn’t toss him over the moment she decided she wanted more from life than he had to offer.
Or someone better came along.
‘I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me.’
The resignation in her voice had him studying her. He noted the teary anxiety, the regret, and let out a sigh and held out his arm. ‘Come here.’
She shuffled across and leaned into his chest. They sat for a long time on the ledge, contemplating the landscape, until finally he kissed her hair and said he had to go. They didn’t say much on the way back to the house. Josh was too uncertain and suspected she felt the same. Em kept staring at the gravel road, hands deep in her coat pockets, her mouth turned down as though she wished the morning had never happened.
Other than pausing to rehook his coat in the laundry, Josh avoided the house. They’d only end up in bed again and he needed to think.
For the first time since he’d started seeing her there was no lingering against the car door with Em settled between his legs. No teasing caresses. Instead, he opened the door and turned to cup her face and place a tender kiss on her forehead.
He stared at her a moment. ‘Maybe we should have done this at the start. Got it out the way.’
‘Would you still be here if we had?’
He let out a long breath and contemplated the hill, honing in on the spot where he’d learned the truth of her betrayal all those years ago. Remembering what it had done to him. ‘I don’t know. Probably not.’ He returned his gaze to her face. ‘It fucked me up, Em. For a while. I left here because of it. I chucked all my plans to go into business with Dad, moved to Adelaide. Tried to forget about here even though Levenham was where I wanted to be.’
From her breaths and swallows he could tell she was forcing tears down. ‘I’m sorry.’
Josh sighed. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to forgive her but hearing her talk about it had made it harder rather than easier. ‘I just wish you hadn’t done it the way you did.’
‘Me too.’ E
m bit her lip and lifted her chin. ‘You’ve changed your mind.’
‘No.’ He stroked her face. ‘I still want to be with you. But I’m not going to pretend that it’s suddenly going to be all right between us, okay?’
She nodded and only then did Josh kiss her properly.
Trust couldn’t be gained in a single conversation. It had to be earned and his already battered heart was at risk. Again.
But this was also love. There was no security, only chance.
All he could do was grab it and hope.
Josh strode up McArthur street, resisting the urge to whistle. The weather had remained clear, adding to his good mood and anticipation. He’d spent Sunday and Monday night with his dad at the kitchen table, turning sketches and photos he’d printed from the Internet into plans.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of using the cypress log for this before, instead of getting bogged down in ideas of jewellery boxes and sculptures. Em didn’t strike him as a jewellery box person, no matter how well made, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to sculpt. But an easel, with an adjustable work surface and side table and drawers and hollows for all her inks and paints – that was her all over.
The plans were folded in the back pocket of his work trousers. He’d tossed up whether to make it a surprise, but the net had thrown up dozens of styles. He and his dad thought they’d covered everything with theirs, but Josh decided it was wise to check. And he wanted to see her.
It wasn’t only the plans for the easel that Josh took with him. He wanted to ask Em to dinner Saturday night at that new vineyard restaurant everyone seemed to be talking about, followed by a taxi back to Rocking Horse Hill, and some serious love-making. And on Sunday morning, he’d wake early and cook her breakfast. Bacon, eggs, grilled tomato. Maybe pancakes. Spoil her for once.
A proper date to start a proper relationship, now they’d got all the shit out the way. He was different now. As was she. They were too old and too experienced for games, and only too aware of how fragile hearts could be.
