Right As Rain (31 page)

He sat at the desk. It only seemed a short time ago that he'd arrived full of trepidation about his decision to fill in for Ted. Living at home again hadn't turned out to be so bad and now he felt he would be able to explain his Canadian venture to his parents without fear of their adverse reaction. He and Mackenna were back on a strong friendship basis and he was happy that she had a good bloke like Adam in her life. It was Mackenna's revelation about Carol's feelings the night before she died that bothered him now. Carol hadn't planned to drive back to the South East that night, so why did she do it? It was that question he always came back to.

He went through the paperwork on his desk. Carol played on his mind as keenly as she had after the accident. He'd mourned for her and carried guilt for her death for so long the two were part of his being. Even though the psychologist had helped with strategies, Carol had always been with him but now he was more confused than ever. If they were both doubting their love for each other, what happened? Was it her own guilt that urged her to get in her car and drive home, or something else?

He slapped the folder he'd been holding to the desk in frustration. Mackenna had given him a reason to let go of his guilt but he was still no closer to finding an answer for Carol's trip home. After all these years there was no-one else to ask.

“Carol,” he muttered and put his head in his hands. “Why?”

Hugh sat like that for quite a while then it struck him. Maybe the Thompsons knew something he didn't. Sid had blamed him for Carol's return home that night but Hugh hadn't seen Beryl Thompson since the funeral. Carol had been very close to her mother, maybe she knew something.

Hugh thought about Sid. After the funeral he'd physically threatened Hugh to keep away from them. He remembered Sid's face only centimetres from his own. The man had trembled with pent-up rage and Hugh had been afraid of him. But after seeing him in the street a while back, Sid was not the bull of a man he used to be. He'd aged a lot in the ensuing years.

Hugh snatched up his keys. He didn't know how he'd go but he had to try to talk to the Thompsons before he left town.

Their farm wasn't as far out of town as Woolly Swamp or Morning Star. Hugh rolled in over the grid and pulled up near the gate in the house yard. The place was run down. All around were piles of discarded farm junk, the house fence was leaning over and nothing but weeds grew in the dustbowl that had once been a lawn.

There were no dogs and no vehicle parked outside. Hugh walked up the cracked cement path. Near the back door several pairs of dirty boots and shoes littered the verandah and a few old bones attracted the flies. They must still have at least one dog.

Hugh went to knock on the tatty screen door but it opened before he could reach it.

“Hugh?” Beryl Thompson stooped in the doorway. She glanced over his shoulder then her worried eyes met his. “What brings you here?”

Hugh hesitated. He hadn't thought about what he was going to say when he got here.

“I'm going away, Mrs Thompson. I wanted to see you before I left.”

“You've already been away for a long time, haven't you?”

“Yes, but this time I'm going to Canada.”

She studied him a moment. “Away is away,” she said.

“I saw Mr Thompson in town the other day.”

“He didn't mention it.”

She gave another look over his shoulder. Hugh wanted to turn and look behind him as well, but he resisted the urge.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I have my good days and my bad days but I'm surviving. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Thank you.”

Beryl stepped back to let him inside and looked out over the yard before she pulled the door shut behind them.

“Have a seat,” she said.

He looked around the kitchen. Nearly every surface was covered with stacks of papers or boxes or household items, and dirty dishes were piled in the sink. Two chairs were clear of clutter. Hugh sat on one. He wondered where Mr Thompson was. He didn't ask.

Beryl sat opposite him and poured a cup of tea from the pot on the table. He noticed how her hand shook. She topped up her own cup and pulled a tin closer.

“Can you take the lid off please? There are biscuits inside.”

Hugh did as he was asked.

“So, what's taking you to Canada?” she asked.

“Work,” Hugh said. “A research project, breeding sheep for specific qualities.”

“You always liked working with animals. Carol was the same. I was surprised when she wanted to do nursing but she was good at it.”

They both sipped their tea staring at the biscuits that neither of them touched. Hugh thought desperately for something to say but Beryl beat him to it.

“You've never . . . you don't have a woman in your life?”

“No.”

“You're young, Hugh. Carol wouldn't have wanted you to be alone.” She reached a trembling hand to touch his cheek. “You were such good kids, so full of life and adventure.” “I still think of her every day and wonder what might have been. Where would her career have taken her? Would you two have married, come back here, had babies?” Her hand dropped to her side and Hugh saw the tears well in her eyes. “Such a waste.”

She turned away. “Sid's bringing in some sheep. We're crutching next week.”

Hugh thought about the work that took place to make that happen. Although the Thompsons' was a small property, times like crutching and shearing needed extra hands outdoors and food to be supplied. Mrs Thompson didn't look like she had the strength to do much at all.

“That must be difficult for you,” he said.

“We manage.” She nodded stiffly to the door. “Sid's happiest when he's out working. Since Carol . . . it's been hard on him and my illness has been an extra burden. Some days I can't even get out of bed.”

Hugh clutched his cup. Who was he to talk about his pain? He was getting on with his life but Beryl Thompson was trapped in hers.

“I should have come to see you before this,” he said.

“Sid would have made it difficult.”

Hugh looked at the deep worry lines etched on her face and then into her weary eyes.

“Seeing Carol's friends, especially you and Mackenna, that would have helped me but not Sid. He was angry that you were alive and Carol wasn't.”

“He made it clear I wasn't welcome.”

“Threatened you, no doubt.” Beryl shook her head. “Sid was always a difficult man but Carol's death . . .” She sucked in a breath.

“Do you know why she drove home that night?” Hugh asked the question before his courage failed him.

Once again Beryl turned her tired eyes to his. His chest tightened as he recognised the look in them. He'd seen it in his own reflection in the mirror so many times. Hugh knew what guilt looked like.

Beryl picked up her cup with two hands, took a sip and carefully placed it down again. “I'd been to the doctor that day and received the news about this illness. Sid's never been an easy man to talk to, so I rang Carol. She'd just finished her shift and we talked for ages.” Tears seeped from Beryl's eyes. “She was my rock. She was so reassuring, so level-headed when I had gone to pieces.” Beryl looked at Hugh. “I didn't ask her to come home but she knew I was upset and worried about telling Sid. I think . . . well, I'm sure she must have decided to come home to support me. I never told Sid about that call and, of course, with the accident it wasn't until later I told him about my diagnosis. He blamed that on Carol's death as well. She didn't tell you she was coming home?”

“No.” Hugh shook his head. Carol must have been more upset than she let on to her mother. “She may have tried to call me before she left but I got home late that night. Neither of us had mobile phones back then.”

“I blame myself. She was probably tired, if I hadn't called her . . .”

“Carol would have expected you to call her.”

“I know that but . . .”

“It was simply an accident.” Finally Hugh could say those words and believe them. “Carol hadn't been drinking, she'd made that trip at night a hundred times before. We're never going to know exactly what went wrong, but it
was
an accident.”

They both looked up at the distant bark of a dog and once again Beryl stared past him to the door.

“Sid had to blame someone.” She fixed her eyes back on Hugh. He could see the sorrow in them. “I'm so sorry it was you. I guessed when you didn't come and see us that it was more than your grief that kept you away, but I couldn't tell him. If he shifted that blame to me . . . please don't despise me. It was easier to let Sid hate someone who wasn't around. He's all I've got now.”

Hugh sat back. A mixture of anger and pity surged through him for this woman who he'd once thought of as a friend.

“I'm weak, I know,” she said. “I didn't only lose my daughter but also her friends. I've missed you all.”

The barking of the dog was getting closer, accompanied by the sound of a horn tooting. Hugh stood up. He wasn't sure how he'd react if he ran into Sid right now.

“I'd better go,” he said.

Beryl's eyes were dry when she looked up at him. “Good luck in Canada. Please come back and see me when you come home, and maybe Mackenna would call by.”

“I'll ask her.”

“Thank you.”

Hugh left her sitting at the table and let himself out the door. He couldn't help but wonder how different life might have been for him had he known Carol's true feelings and her reason for driving home that night.

Outside, it had turned into a beautiful day, sunny with clear skies and barely a breath of wind. Not what the farmers wanted but perfect weather to set up the surprise gifts for his mother's garden. That was what he looked forward to as he drove out of the Thompsons' gate.

Mackenna parked the ute behind her car and scooped up the bags of groceries sprawled across the seat beside her. She flew across the space to the back door and into her kitchen. Adam wasn't there. She tiptoed down the passage and peeped around her bedroom door. He was fast asleep where she'd left him, in her bed. Goosebumps prickled down her back. Only a few hours ago they'd been truly reunited in that bed. She smiled at the memory.

She pulled the door closed and went back to the kitchen. As much as she'd love to jump back into bed with him, she had work to do and sleep was probably what he needed after his family's bereavement and his long ride to get here.

She made another trip out to the ute to get the rest of the shopping. She'd picked up a new battery for her car but that would have to wait. She had two bookings for tonight and there was prep work to be done.

She was bent over the cured meat, concentrating on shaving long thin slices when she was startled by an arm slipping around her waist.

“I've got a knife,” she said, then felt a shudder roll down her as the stubble of Adam's cheek brushed her neck.

“Best put it down then,” he murmured in her ear. “Can't have you hurting yourself.”

“You'd better put some clothes on.” She laughed. “I wouldn't want to slip.”

“I'm going to the shower.”

She watched him amble to the door then quickly turned her back on his naked body.

“Damn it,” she muttered. There was so much to do but she'd rather be following him to the shower. Her mobile rang. It was her chef friend in Adelaide. She hadn't heard from him for quite a while.

By the time Adam came back wrapped in one of her towels she was dancing around the kitchen. His eyes opened wide as she flew at him and flung her arms around him.

“Whoa! Steady!” he yelped as she caught him off guard.

She ignored his complaints and kissed him.

He quickly responded. Finally, she stepped back.

“I'm so excited.”

“I can see that.”

“Woolly Swamp lamb will be a feature of my friend's new menu. He's head chef at a swanky restaurant in Adelaide.”

“That's great news.”

“Great! It's fantastic. Of course there's a bit to organise to get the meat to them but at least we're moving beyond the local area.”

Mackenna wrapped her arms around him again. “First you arrive on my doorstep and now this.” She kissed him and they were quickly lost in each other's embrace again. The towel he'd been wearing fell to the ground and his hands slid inside her shirt. Mackenna forgot all about the food she'd been preparing.

Adam dug in his bag for some fresh clothes. Making love with Mackenna twice in one morning wasn't something he'd complain about but after his early start and long ride he was feeling weary. Mackenna had told him to stay in bed and get some more rest but he was hungry. He'd missed breakfast and now it was past lunchtime.

There was a loud bang from the kitchen followed by some very expressive words. He went in to see what she was doing.

“Can I help?” he asked.

She brushed a loose curl from her face with the back of her free hand. “I'm way behind with the food prep.”

He leaned in and brushed his cheek softly past hers. “I can stay focused if you can.”

He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath.

“That's playing dirty,” she said. “Just for that you can chop that pumpkin. It's as hard as a rock.”

The smell of roasting garlic mingled with that of hot pastry made his stomach grumble loudly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “Have you eaten at all today?”

“A cup of coffee before I left Horsham.” That had been very early this morning.

“There are some hot sausage rolls. Would you like some?”

“Anything,” he said and his stomach rumbled again in anticipation.

He retrieved the apron from its spot behind the door and attacked the pumpkin in between taking bites from the plate of sausage rolls she'd put beside him. While he chopped, Mackenna took two more calls. They'd have a full house tonight by the sound of it. She was so excited but he was worried how she'd manage the Gatehouse as well as the property. He hadn't realised how much work was involved in farming until his stay at Woolly Swamp. There was plenty to keep Mackenna, Lyle and Cam busy as well as Patrick when he was here.