by Maya Linnell
Penny’s phone buzzed and the dogs jumped onto the back of the ute as she located it under a box of ammunition.
‘Boutique Media’ flashed on the caller ID.
‘Hello, Penny speaking.’
‘Penny, it’s Anna. I’m after your report for Georgie. The background report on the Leonard Group branding?’ Keyboard keys clicked at Anna’s end.
‘Sorry, Anna, I haven’t finished it yet. It’s not due until next week though, isn’t it?’
‘Didn’t you get the memo? The client wants everything ready for a spring launch. I’m pretty sure Charlotte put everyone in the email loop after last week’s meeting.’
Penny gritted her teeth. It was news to her.
‘Is she around? I’d love to chat with her.’ Penny tapped her fingernails as music played in her ear.
‘Boutique Media, you’re speaking with Charlotte.’
Penny’s irritation increased as the English accent purred down the phone. She could picture Charlotte sitting in her office, undoubtedly rearranging it in her absence.
‘Penny, here. In future, I’d appreciate better updates about timeline changes, thanks. I’ll get the report nailed this afternoon, but I don’t like being set up.’
A false laugh tinkled down the phone line.
‘Sorry darling, my mistake. I’ll get the tech boys onto this mystery email. Maybe it’s been diverted to junk mail, given your limited contact with Boutique Media these days.’
Penny pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for patience to deal with the colleague who seemed hell-bent on stabbing her in the back. She slammed the ute door and looked up to the skies, hoping the light drizzle would cool her temper.
‘I’ll visit the office as soon as shearing’s finished. Spend some quality time with my boyfriend, Vince. That type of thing.’
Charlotte laughed again. ‘You really are a little country bumpkin, aren’t you, Penny? I hope all those little lambies don’t give you too much trouble. Ta-ta.’
Penny swore at the phone.
I’ll get the shearing finished on time and make the damn client meeting—just you wait and see, Charlotte.
Forty-seven
‘What do you think, Rusty? Will Georgie be happy with that report?’ Penny hit ‘send’ on the email before leaning down and scratching the kelpie’s ears. Won over by his melancholic brown eyes, Penny had started letting him inside on occasion. It seemed like the kelpie appreciated company as much as she did, both of them overlooking the McIntyre rule about animals indoors. Showing the same intelligence that made him a top working dog, he sat by her side obediently as she tackled her marketing to-do list, then moved onto the draft media releases and press alerts promised to Anna, before handling the farm accounts.
Angus’s desk was now as neat and orderly as her city office, and she had found it easy to get an overview of his recording system. She eased through the main ledger and logged onto the farm’s bank account. The moon and stars twinkled at her through the window by the time she’d paid all the invoices for chemicals, fencing wire, shearers, diesel and insurance. Another job ticked off Dad’s list and three major jobs crossed off my Boutique list.
Penny switched off the computer and stretched her arms to the ceiling. She fought an impulse to rest in the comfy office chair and tiredness washed over her as she loosened her sweat-stained shirt from her waistband. Definitely shower time. Her eyelids drooped further, the effort of getting upstairs beyond her.
Just one minute, she bargained with herself, easing back into the chair and closing her eyes.
Penny jolted awake with a snort to something wet licking her hand. She gingerly opened her eyes, the digital clock burning the numbers 11.24 p.m. into her retinas. Rusty’s tail thumped on the floorboards.
‘Ergghh.’ Penny groaned as she peeled herself out of the chair and walked the dog to the back door. Windburn she hadn’t noticed made her face feel stiff and hot.
‘C’mon, Rusty, out you go. It’s bedtime.’
Penny looked up from the laptop screen as Angie’s reflection loomed into view. She swivelled the chair around to face the doorway, surprised but pleased to see her younger sister.
‘Hey, Angie. Long time, no see.’
Angie looked away, her expression aloof.
‘Dad asked me to collect the farm insurance documents. He’s got to get them all signed to start the WorkCover stuff,’ said Angie.
Penny frowned, wishing she could erase the strain between them. It was hard to believe they’d been so close a month ago, just like old times. ‘I could have taken it in. But while you’re here, check this out.’
Penny leaned back, proud of her hard work revising the McIntyre Park Merino Stud logo, brochures, flyers and advertisements for the on-farm ram sale.
‘What do you think? Pretty snazzy, aren’t they?’ Penny’s enthusiasm flagged as she took in Angie’s restrained nod.
‘Not bad. They’re a big improvement on the black-and-white ads Dad usually puts in shop windows around Bridgefield.’
‘Exactly. All part of my plan to bring more buyers to the sale,’ said Penny, pointing out the distribution list that incorporated websites, print media, farming magazines and rural newsletters.
‘Won’t that be pricey, though? Are you likely to turn enough profit to cover extra expenses?’
Penny nodded. ‘You’ve got to spend money to make money, Angie. You should know that with your beauty business. I got a cheap rate through my work contacts, and it beats sitting around dwelling on this wet weather.’
‘I guess so. Reckon you’ll get the shearing finished next week?’
‘Hopefully. If this rain clears up like it’s supposed to, we should have a good run. We’re already cutting it a bit too fine. Hey, have you seen Lara recently? Mrs Beggs seems to think Sam’s back in town for good. Don’t tell me they’re trying to make a go of things again?’
Angie averted her gaze again, looking at the pale square of paint on the kitchen wall; the bare spot beside Diana and Pete’s wedding portrait that once held a framed photo of Lara and Sam at the altar.
‘I don’t know,’ shrugged Angie. ‘She said she was calling into the farmhouse later. Maybe you should ask her yourself?’
‘What’s all this about glossy brochures and national advertising? Sounds like a waste of time and money to me. You should be looking for ways to economise, not spend,’ said Lara. Her face was as downcast as the waterlogged roses alongside the house, but with none of the sweet aroma or soft, pretty petals.
‘Great to see you too, Lara. Yes, I’m very well, thanks for asking. You?’ Penny shook her head as Lara barged through the house, heading straight to the office. She shrugged at her niece, who was still wrestling with her gumboots on the porch.
‘Hi, Aunty Pen. You look pretty today,’ said Evie, beaming at her.
Penny leaned in to hug the girl, wondering if she would always feel the need to compensate for Lara’s austere manner, and was surprised when Evie kept her arms wrapped around her neck longer than normal. She wondered whether it had anything to do with Sam’s return to town.
‘Thanks, honey. You must have been eating your veggies these last few weeks. You’re almost taller than me,’ she said, tucking her new winter-weight shirt into her jeans.
She slung an arm around Evie’s shoulder, bracing herself for Lara’s criticisms as they walked to the office. Lara stood staring at the printed proofs sitting on Angus’s desk.
‘Why are you even stuffing around with this, Penny? Sure, it looks flash, but the best customers are always repeat customers. Everyone knows that.’
Penny rolled her eyes, her voice calm for Evie’s benefit although she was seething.
‘This isn’t my first shooting match, Lara. I do this for a living. You stick to nursing and running, and I’ll use my marketing background to advance the ram sale, okay?’
Lara moved away from the desk, scowling.
‘Go ahead and waste your time then, see if I care. Just don’t
clean out Dad’s bank account trying to make yourself look good. Tim’s savings deposit is sorted. He’s just waiting for the green light from Dad.’
Penny swallowed hard. Tim had given her his word that he wasn’t trying to buy the farm out from under Angus; surely he wasn’t stringing them both along?
Penny dried her hands on a tea towel and sat at the bench to continue revising the final Leonard Group media release.
The scones in the oven had barely started to rise, and she was only halfway through the document when the home phone rang. Penny checked the timer on her way to the phone—still another six minutes until they needed to come out of the oven.
‘McIntyre Park, Penny speaking.’
‘Babe, it’s me. I know you can’t make the weekend away, but how about a quick overnighter for the cocktail festival on the Yarra tomorrow? Boutique Media has sponsored another marquee for the night, all the best clients will be there just waiting to be schmoozed. You know you want to,’ he said, his voice playful, like when they’d first met.
‘Hey, Vince. Cocktails sound divine. It was a blast last year.’
‘But … I can hear an excuse coming up.’
She sighed. Sometimes Vince knew her too well.
‘But I’ve got my hands full. Shearing is ramping up again tomorrow and I really can’t leave. Not while it’s in full swing and, by golly, I hope it stays in full swing for at least another six days.’
‘You know it’d do you good to show your face at a work function, considering you’re working remotely and things aren’t going exactly smoothly.’
‘Things are fine. Who said it was anything other than smooth?’
The oven timer beeped madly and she grabbed an oven mitt with her free hand, shrugging the phone between her jaw and her shoulder.
‘It’s not so much what I’ve heard, it’s just the vibe around the office. I try and stick up for you, of course, but you’ve got to give something back, babe. Mingle with our peeps. Show the team you value your job.’
Penny swore as her wrist touched the wire rack. She dropped the hot tray onto a trivet and ran her puckering skin under cold water.
‘What? No, Vince, I’m not swearing at you. I just burned myself. I am pulling my weight with daily updates, background research, input into the advertising campaign—but I can’t make the cocktail event. I’ve got to go, love you.’
She hung up the phone, her enthusiasm for baking vanishing along with the sound of Vince’s protests. She threw the oven mitt across the bench and slumped down into her chair. Rusty’s tail wagged against the table leg, his head cocked quizzically to the side.
‘I’d make it if I could,’ she told the dog. Penny skimmed over the press release one more time, then the media alert, and hit ‘send’ to her entire media address book.
I’m not going to be pressured into anything, she told herself. Vince can say all he wants about his peeps and his schmoozing, but my most important priority at this very minute is getting shearing underway. Then I’ll have time to show my face in the office.
The laneway linking the paddocks to the shearing shed was smooth and fresh, each piece of gravel washed clean by the downpour earlier in the week. The kookaburras called in the red gum trees as Penny strode back to the shed, admiring the butterflies as they fluttered past in search of flowers. Three successful days of shearing combined with an exceptional outlook for the rest of the week was exactly what the doctor had ordered.
She called the dogs, interrupting their attempt to flush rabbits from the long grass, and tucked cold fingers into her sleeves. She flexed her arms against the crisp air, the evidence of her newly toned biceps lifting her mood as she turned towards the farmhouse.
The sight of three cars in the main driveway wiped the goofy look from her face. She pushed her body to a jog, trying to work out why Angie, Lara and Diana had all converged unannounced on the farmhouse. Is Dad okay? Has there been another accident? Are the children injured? Sweat soaked Penny’s dirty work shirt as she ran up the laneway.
Puffing, she reached the shearing shed. The buzzing and whirring of the equipment continued, despite the gathering at the house. It can’t be an emergency if they’re still shearing.
Penny forced herself to slow down and catch her breath as she walked the remainder of the way home. Smoke curled out of the chimney. As she got closer, Penny spotted a familiar outline in the corner of the lounge room. Her father’s favourite spot in the house. Surely not … he couldn’t be home already.
Forty-eight
‘Surprise!’ Five little voices crowed in unison as Penny came through the back door.
Slipping off her boots, she hugged her niece and nephews, swung Leo onto her hip and rounded the corner into the lounge room. A riot of pain coursed through her body as her knee smashed into the frame of the sofa. She winced, clutching her knee. Shock and confusion about the rearranged furniture made her blurt out the central question on her mind.
‘What are you doing here? I thought you had a few weeks left in rehab?’
Her father’s face fell and the vibe in the room was as awkward as the furniture configuration.
Penny tried to think of something to say that would smooth over her abrupt comment, but nothing came to her lips. She was grateful when Cameron broke the silence.
‘Grandpa’s home, Aunty Penny. Isn’t that great?’
‘And look at his funky wheelchair, it’s so much fun,’ said Evie, running to the side of Angus’s recliner for a demonstration.
Penny reined herself in, lowering Leo to the floor, and walked across to kiss Angus. It was nice to see him. She smiled down at his face, noticing how he looked a lot more like his old self now that he was home where he belonged, away from the artificial lights and clinical setting.
‘It’s great to see you back. Welcome home, Dad.’
‘Thanks, love. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.’
The wheelchair nudged her leg in the same spot she had collided with the sofa, and she cringed as a cheeky grin appeared on Evie’s face.
‘I’m going to practise for murderball. Watch out, Aunty Pen.’
‘Careful guys, it’s not a toy. And don’t bang into Grandpa or Aunty Penny’s leg!’ Diana threw Penny an apologetic look and raised an empty cup.
‘Tea?’
‘I’d love a cuppa,’ said Penny, ‘but I’ve got four stands running and shearers that’ll be begging for afternoon smoko any minute now.’ She walked over to Diana and lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. ‘He’s looking better already. Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled to see him home—but when on Earth was this decided?’
‘Lara announced it this morning. Said she was collecting him with Angie.’
Penny glanced at Angie standing by the wood-fire, again deep in conversation with Lara. She swallowed hard and glanced at her watch, aware she was cutting it fine. She’d already learned the hard way about standing between a hungry shearer and his tucker.
‘I offered to have him at my place, but between Cameron’s sleepwalking, Harry’s night terrors and Leo’s teething he’d never get a full night’s sleep.’
‘I just can’t believe she’d yank him out of the rehab ward. Last time I visited, he could barely shower or dress,’ said Penny.
Penny stalked across the room. The wood-fire crackled and glowed, but there was no time to stand and warm her hands.
‘Lara, Angie, could you help me get some more firewood?’ She looked pointedly at the near-empty wood box beside the roaring fire.
The three sisters headed outside. The woodpile was dwindling, another reason why she’d been letting the fire go out overnight, and only restarting it when she came in for the evening. Penny started collecting an armful of wood, keeping her voice light.
‘You two look pretty pleased with your big surprise. Wasn’t Dad supposed to stay in the hospital for at least another week or two?’
‘He was sick of it, Pen. You should have seen him yesterday, he practically begged m
e to smuggle him out,’ said Angie, studying the fiddleback on a large piece of red gum, the grain crimped like a clip of merino wool.
At least she has the decency to look a little guilty, thought Penny.
‘That’s funny, because the nurse told me he needed another fortnight of rehab.’
‘Angie’s just being nice. He wanted to be back here to keep a closer eye on the farm. Make sure you don’t do anything rash,’ said Lara, flicking a huntsman spider off the piece of firewood in her hand. It hit the ground running, moving fast to find a shadowy space.
Penny jumped out of the spider’s frenzied path, forcing a dry laugh.
‘He probably wants to make sure you’re not putting up the “for sale” signs, Lara. He’s going to need a lot of care. I hope you plan on offering full nursing services?’
‘I’ll come around now and then, but weren’t you the one Dad just nursed back to health? Surely it’s your turn to repay the favour?’
‘Repay the favour? You’re kidding me, Lara. I’m up to my eyeballs already and I don’t have time to argue,’ Penny shot back. Angie and Diana roping her into baking therapy classes was one thing, but full-time caring duties on top of farm work and job-sharing with Charlotte was a whole different ball game. Why don’t I just introduce Lara to Charlotte and they can come up with a watertight plan to send me completely batty? Penny squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm her mind, relax her shoulders and unclench her jaw, then looked back at the farmhouse windows. Pleasure at seeing her father finally home was mixed with the frustration that Lara was setting her up for a fall.
‘I’ll look after Dad because that’s what families do, but I won’t forget this, Lara. Karma will bite you in the bum one day.’
