by Maya Linnell
The sentence stuck in Lara’s mouth. How much had that phrase pained her as a kid?
Evie huffed. She reached into the freezer, pulling out the tub of hokey pokey ice cream. ‘My favourite! Thanks, Mum,’ she said, landing a kiss on Lara’s cheek and returning to the lounge room with two spoons, not a bowl in sight.
Sermon over? Lara lifted her fingertips to her cheek, where Evie’s kiss had landed. A peck from a child, a hug from a family member and the hand of a patient seeking support and comfort as she tended their wounds and ailments. That was the extent of her physical contact these days. How long had it been since she’d let someone’s fingers trail along her skin with the sole purpose of pleasure? Had she become one of the lonely masses she’d read about in the medical journals, craving human contact? Skin hungry, that’s what they’d called it.
Lara crossed her arms, dismissing the notion. Ridiculous.
One day she’ll understand, Lara reassured herself. Life wasn’t a big fairy tale with frogs, princes and princesses waiting for knights in shining armour.
Joining Evie on the couch, she pressed play on the movie again.
‘What did you think of Toby’s fun-run idea, Mum?’
Lara paused, a spoon full of ice cream halfway to her mouth. Fun run? She didn’t like feeling behind the eight-ball, especially not twice in one night. How many other fundraisers were being planned without my knowledge?
‘Holly was telling me,’ said Evie, not noticing Lara’s perplexed look. ‘Apparently fun runs are the new tourism trend, people are happy to pay for a race weekend away. Especially the newbie runners,’ she said, crunching a toffee piece.
How does Evie know more about this than me?
‘I’m sure we’ll get all the details at the next committee meeting. There’ll be lots of different fundraisers needed to get this shop sale sorted.’
‘Or tomorrow,’ said Evie, shovelling in another mouthful of ice cream. ‘Don’t forget we’ll be seeing them tomorrow.’
Lara twirled her spoon in the ice cream. As if she could forget. A ceiling of stars twinkled against a denim-blue sky, with the sliver of moon doing little to illuminate the road or highlight the pot holes. Lara relied on memory as she headed out for her morning run, sticking to the centre of the road to avoid the loose rocks.
She hugged the shoulder of the road as she approached Magpie’s Bend. A neighbour’s tractor had lost a wheel years earlier and the divots from where the front axle speared the road was an ankle reconstruction waiting to happen. As with the long roadside grass that created blind corners and badly needed slashing, the council didn’t seem in any hurry to repair the damaged road. The bigger towns continued to suck out the majority of funding while ratepayers in the smaller outlying areas had to make do with the bare necessities.
Lara looked up in time to see a shooting star sprint across the horizon. Don’t get those in the city, she thought as the star streaked a glittering path across the sky.
A gentle lowing came from the north.
‘Morning, cows,’ called Lara. She couldn’t see them, but she welcomed their company in the sound of the shuffling grass.
It was probably lucky Evie hadn’t joined her. Talking to cows would surely be right up there on Evie’s list of ‘Mum’s Sad, Sad Life’.
Lara headed towards the lake, relishing the fresh morning air pumping through her body. Running had been akin to therapy for more years than she could count, the problems rolling around in her mind over the long kilometres until they met with a suitable solution. And if not a solution, at least a way forward.
And then there was the sense of pride, knowing she was the only person at 5 a.m. in the back blocks of Bridgefield, getting it done. Well, almost the only person, she conceded.
Without a torch or full moon, she wouldn’t know whether Toby was running the same route as her unless he was within earshot. A little devil parked on her shoulder and whispered, So that’s why you’ve stopped wearing your headphones in the dark mornings?
Lara picked up the pace, deflecting the issue like she’d dismissed Evie’s gentle probe last night. Course not, it’s just safer, she told herself, sidestepping to avoid the bumpy track by a roadside sign, where tree roots were trying to recapture their territory. Another thing the council was yet to fix, despite regular requests.
She turned when she got to the lake, bracing herself for the winding uphill track, urged on by the carolling magpies and their dawn chorus. The sky was lightening by the time she reached the main road, with the first strains of pink-and-purple sky reflected on the lake’s surface below. Spectacular.
Lara fixed her mind on the general store as she headed for home, trying to come up with something to counter the harebrained singles ball idea Diana and Penny were concocting. A charity auction? A bake sale? Sausage roll and pastie drive? They were a lot of effort for little return. She thought about the apartment over the store. Amy had liked the raffle idea, and Lara hoped it would go down as well with the rest of her family, who made up three-quarters of the fundraising committee. For what seemed like the zillionth time, Toby popped into her mind. In the hubbub of the week, Lara had forgotten his request to join the committee, yet despite this, he was still planning a major fundraiser.
Toby slowed the Volkswagen as the tree-lined driveway came into view.
‘McIntyre Park Merino Stud,’ read Holly. They rattled over a cattle grid and turned onto the gravel track. ‘Penny McIntyre and Tim Patterson. Which sister’s that?’ said Holly, pushing her glasses back on her nose. ‘The one with all the boys? Evie said she has heaps of cousins.’
Toby laughed at the wistful tone in his daughter’s voice.
‘Penny’s got the baby, Diana’s got the boys. You’ll have a cousin soon enough. Is Aunty Belinda beginning to pop yet?’ Toby said.
‘Nah, you can’t even tell she’s pregnant. I wish Aunty Belinda had thought about IVF when you and Mum had me, so at least we’d be the same age.’
Toby opened his mouth and then shut it. Holly had been as excited as him about Belinda’s decision to create a rainbow family and seemed pretty au fait with the whole LGBTI+ concept, but she was too young to understand that fifteen years ago, when he and Petra were blissfully deluded newlyweds, Belinda hadn’t even told their parents about her sexuality, let alone considered asking a gay friend for sperm.
A trio of sheepdogs raced out of their kennels by a machinery shed, straining at their chains as they barked at the car.
A weatherboard farmhouse took pride of place at the end of the driveway, surrounded by extensive rose bushes and clipped lavender hedges. There was more than one green thumb in the family, and it was clear where the inspiration for Diana McIntyre’s garden had come from.
‘It’s like a Country Style magazine,’ said Holly, her voice laced with awe. ‘If they’re so loaded, why do they cut up their own meat?’
‘Holly!’
‘Just saying …’ Holly muttered.
Toby pulled up beside a pair of utes. Lara’s battered station-wagon looked even more weathered next to the immaculately restored WB Holdens. He didn’t have to be a rev-head to appreciate their restoration.
‘They’ve even got a fountain in the middle of the driveway,’ Holly pointed out as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
Toby had been so busy admiring the classic utes he hadn’t noticed the water feature. ‘Mind your manners, Hol. And don’t forget your—’ Toby tried and failed to catch Holly’s attention. He followed her gaze up to the deck. Evie was standing by the back door, waving. But that wasn’t who had caught her eye, Toby realised as Holly smoothed her ponytail, clambered out of the car and straightened her T-shirt. It might have something to do with the six-foot blonde teenage boy who emerged after Evie.
‘… camera,’ said Toby wryly, trying to recall Diana’s eldest son’s name. The scent of flowers hit him as he emerged from the car and pulled the camera bags off the back seat. More children spilled out the doorway, followed by the McIntyre adults. Harry,
Elliot, Leo and … The name came to him as Angus greeted them in a blue-and-white striped apron.
Cameron, that’s it.
‘Morning, folks,’ said Angus. ‘Hope you’re ready for a big day?’
Toby tucked his notepad into his back pocket and returned Angus’s hearty handshake with a smile. Diana’s younger boys jostled their way to the front of the crowd.
‘Hey Toby, want to try a three-legged race again? I bet I’ll beat Harry and Elliot if I’ve got you as my partner,’ said little Leo. Toby kneeled down on the lush lawn. Leo was only a little tacker. The poor guy had been in tears at the twins’ party, coming mid-pack in most of the party games, trying but never managing to match his older brothers and their friends. ‘Think we’ve got some work to do first, but maybe when we break for lunch, okay mate?’
The answer seemed to satisfy Leo, who followed him through the lavender hedges towards the house. Lara emerged from the side of the garage, a bucket of bleach and dripping broom in her hand. She smelled like an indoor swimming pool.
‘Looks like you’ve made a friend,’ Lara said, looking from him to Leo, who had grabbed his hand and was now leading the way inside.
Toby smiled. He didn’t mention that he’d always wanted a brother for Holly, or the way Petra had taken the decision out of his hands by getting her tubes tied shortly after Holly’s first birthday. He’d made his peace with it more than a decade ago, although young Leo seemed to have snuck into his soft spot.
He wondered if Lara had wanted only one child, or if like him, other factors had kept it that way. A rowdy bunch of nephews would be the next best thing, he supposed, watching Lara ruffle Leo’s hair on the way in.
While the exterior of the house was magazine perfect, Toby was surprised to find the inside cluttered, cosy and instantly welcoming. Winter coats and Driza-Bone jackets took up a wall in the laundry; old-fashioned Pears soap paintings hung over the wash trough; and rows of Blundstone boots lined the skirting boards.
Evie made the introductions for Holly as they walked in.
They added their boots to the neat collection, and Toby looked down at his socks: one was striped, the other was plain, but at least they were hole-free.
Commercial chopping boards and two knife blocks sat in the middle of the huge island bench, with a chequered butcher’s block butted up against it. There were no overhead cabinets, instead the panoramic kitchen windows framed the majestic mountain range to the north.
‘Bet no one complains about doing dishes with that view,’ said Toby, setting his camera bag on the countertop. The kitchen overlooked a wide verandah, then a neat backyard with a trampoline and more extensive rose gardens. The paddocks beyond were studded with sheep right to the foot of the Grampians.
Angus laughed. ‘You’d think, wouldn’t you? Now, when you said you wanted a hands-on story, what were you thinking? Watching and photographing, or proper hands-on?’
Toby definitely liked the latter option. ‘It’ll give the story more depth if I’m having a crack. Load me up with whatever jobs you normally do on meat-packing day. Holly can take some photos of us in action, then I’ll get my own shots later.’
Penny passed him an apron.
‘Better whack this on, then. You can help Pete carry in the first quarter,’ she said.
Toby unfolded the apron and slipped it over his head. Lara’s lips twitched. Penny and Diana hooted with laughter. Holly and Evie giggled.
Angus looked Toby up and down. ‘That’s my favourite apron,’ Angus said.
Toby glanced down and saw the apron wasn’t blue-and-white striped like most of the others, or floral like Penny’s. It was a cartoon man, with bulging muscles, budgie-smuggler Speedos and a chest hairy enough to make Tom Selleck proud. He caught Holly’s eye and flexed his arms to imitate the man on the apron, minus the muscles.
Her face flushed. ‘Daaa-ad.’ She looked scandalised.
Lara shook her head and turned away, but not before he saw a hint of a smile on her lips.
The mobile cool room ticked and whirred, and a puddle had formed on the ground underneath the large air-conditioning unit. Lara stepped over the power cord and checked the temperature gauge. A steady four degrees. Perfect.
Three fair heads bobbed up and down on the trampoline by the chook shed and the boys called out while she waited for Pete and Toby.
‘Watch me backflip, Aunty Lara.’
‘And me front flip!’
‘No! Me!’ added little Leo, determined to keep up with his older brothers.
‘Nice one, Harry. Nailed it, Elliot. You’ll have to show Evie when she’s out next. Mind this extension cord, boys,’ she reminded them. Last year’s meat had almost been spoiled when one of the kids tripped over the power cord and unplugged the air-conditioner. Luckily Penny had been checking twice a day or thousands of dollars’ worth of top-quality meat would have spoiled.
‘Yes, Aunty Lara,’ they chorused, resuming their flips.
She waited at the cool-room door until Pete and Toby were both beside her.
‘So,’ Pete said, turning to Toby, ‘we’ll start with the forequarter closest to the door and work our way backwards. I’ll lift the meat off the hooks and we’ll carry it together once I’m down the steps.’
Lara watched Toby. Has he ever seen inside a cool room? Will he freak out when he spots the hanging carcasses?
‘Ready?’
Chilled air flooded out as Lara opened the door. Her skin goose bumped. Rows of red-and-white striped ribcages swung in the air-conditioned breeze and the underlying hint of bleach was still there from that morning’s clean. Pete grunted as he took the bulk of the weight and staggered back down the steps.
Lara swung the door shut quickly to keep out the flies, surprised by Toby’s no-fuss assistance. Sam had avoided meatpacking day like the plague. There was always an excuse—a friend moving house, a call in at work, a hangover—but Lara knew the sight made her ex-husband’s stomach turn. He’d puked behind the trailer the first time she’d invited him for the family occasion, ironic considering his later penchant for inflicting pain.
Not all men are like Sam, she reminded herself. Sam wouldn’t have taken Leo’s three-legged race concerns seriously. Sam wouldn’t have cared about Basil. Sam wouldn’t have served pies at the general store out of the goodness of his heart or brainstormed fundraising ideas.
She watched Toby navigate the porch steps, careful not to brush the side of beef up against the handrail. Lara felt her heart thaw a little further as he thanked Diana for opening the door, then smiled as Holly pointed a camera in his direction and took a photo.
‘How’s things, love?’ Angus pushed a mug of tea into her hands and gave a wink. ‘What about your dog?’
‘Hard to know, we’ll have to wait it out,’ she said. That morning’s flying visit to the vet hadn’t been much consolation for Evie, who’d burst into tears at the sight of Basil looking so poorly. Concerns about secondary kidney damage were keeping him at the vets longer than expected.
‘He’s tough as old boots.’ Angus pulled plastic freezer bags out of the cupboard and handed them to Toby. ‘And what about your shop shares? Reckon we’ll raise enough to save the general store?’
‘With a bit of luck. Which reminds me,’ said Lara. ‘What’s this about a singles ball, Penny? Surely we’ve got bigger fish to fry? Those events are like a meat market. Okay if you’re appealing to the cougars, the rednecks and every horny farmer in the district, but there’s a fine line between sleazy and stylish.’
Penny laughed, raising her voice to be heard above the sound of the hacksaw cutting through bone.
‘Pah! Don’t be such a Negative Nancy. I knew we should’ve waited until we had a watertight game plan before we pitched it to you. Who let the cat out of the bag?’
Evie and Cameron looked up from the short ribs they were loading into bags. Their tall, lanky frames and guilty expressions made them look like siblings rather than cousins.
Diana groaned. �
�Can’t you keep anything a secret, Cam?’ She glared at them, but Lara knew Diana was as pleased as she was that the pair were still close, despite Evie’s move to Ballarat. ‘Heaven forbid we ever try to organise a surprise birthday party.’
Penny and Diana had almost finished explaining their concept, and Lara was reluctantly agreeing it might work, when the screen door flew open. Little Claudia ran through, followed by Diana’s boys, the former squealing with delight and the latter whooping like a footy cheer squad.
‘Aunty Angie’s here,’ said Harry.
‘Claud’s here,’ said Leo, chasing her around the island bench.
‘Uncle Rob’s brought icy poles,’ added Elliot, rifling through the cutlery drawer for the scissors.
‘Out, out, out,’ called Diana, a fillet of beef almost flying across the kitchen as she flapped her hands.
‘Evie, can you take the kids outside and be in charge of icy poles? Someone will lose an eye at this rate,’ said Penny, grabbing the scissors before the twins could squabble over who was cutting the tops off. The trio of teenagers washed their hands and followed the younger children outside, when Angie and Rob came in. The noise woke Lucy, whose howls carried along the hallway.
Lara collected the scraps from the beef Toby was trimming and pushed them through the mincer.
‘Welcome to the madhouse,’ she said with a laugh.
Toby returned her laugh, wiping his forehead against the sleeve of his polo shirt. ‘It is chaos,’ he conceded, ‘but it’s a nice change from weekends covering sports.’
Angie worked her way around the kitchen, greeting her family with hugs and kisses. Lara noticed her smile had turned mischievous when she got to Toby.
‘Good to see you again, Toby,’ she said, waggling her eyebrows at Lara the moment he picked up his knife.
Lara ignored her little sister, but couldn’t help sneaking another peek at Toby. A layer of stubble darkened his jaw, and his lips were clamped together in concentration as he sliced through the meat. Without meaning to, she found herself pondering his routine. Did he avoid shaving on weekends, or was he an evening-shower-and-shave guy? She shut down the thought quickly, before her mind wandered any further off track.
