Standing Strong (15 page)

He wondered if Keith had taken up his suggestion of bringing Jacqueline in for one of the debriefs, or just to talk to the guys. While it would be painful to sit there and look at her knowing there would be no snuggling up together or deep and meaningful conversations or lovely lip-locking sessions afterwards, tonight would be the perfect occasion to bring her in. All involved were devastated about the loss of houses and sheds yesterday. He kind of wished he hadn't been so quick to agree to going, but it had been his idea to bring her in so it wouldn't look good to not turn up. He sighed as he pictured Jacqueline's eyes, which were sometimes browny-green and sometimes bright emerald. God, he missed her.

‘But it's the right thing to do,' he told himself, and Squish and Jemima sitting beside him. He'd left the kittens at home sleeping safely in their box. He was only going to be out for half an hour, max. He had wanted to leave Jemima in the run, but because he'd brought Bob and Cara along, he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave her there alone. And she had followed him out to the ute and then stayed there, insisting she come along. He'd laughed when she'd scrambled up onto the seat from where she'd been put on the floor. Now she sat beside Squish. It was too funny, and oh so cute. He'd pulled the seatbelt around her because she hadn't looked too stable.

He was just pulling up to the van when his phone rang. He still got a flush of hope, thinking it might be Jacqueline every time it did, before telling himself not to be an idiot. His auntie Ethel's name was on the screen. He smiled.
Next best thing
.

‘Hi, Auntie Ethel,' he said.

‘Oh. Hi, Damien. Sorry, it still takes me by surprise that you know it's me,' she said, sounding flustered.

‘How are you?' he asked, thinking she still wasn't sounding any chirpier. He wished she'd tell him what was on her mind and hoped all was well with Sarah, her daughter, and her new baby. ‘What can I do for you?'

‘Could you drop in after you've been to entertain the oldies? There's something I want you to do.'

‘Oh. Okay. No problem. Actually,' he said, his brain kicking into action, ‘would you be able to keep an eye on Jemima, Squish, and the kittens for an hour or so this evening from six? There's a CFS shindig. I could leave Jemima and Squish here, I suppose, and take the kittens and …'

‘Nonsense. I'd love to babysit. Are you going home and coming back again after the hostel visit or do you want to come here and have a bite to eat?'

‘Thanks, but they're putting on a barbie. And I'd better head home and check the depository. But I'll leave plenty of time to help you with your thing. Half an hour okay? And do I need any tools?'

‘Half an hour's fine and, no, no tools. Just yourself.'

‘Any clues?'

‘No. I'll tell you all about it when you get here.'

‘Okay. A bit after five?'

‘Perfect. See you then. Good luck with the oldies – not that you'll need it.'

‘Thanks.'

*

His second visit to the hostel went just as well as the first. Mrs Timms even gave him some guff she'd printed out on government funding and grants, saying that perhaps if he got creative and thought outside the box, he might be able to convince the powers that be that he was a worthy recipient. He whizzed home and, after satisfying himself that no creature was expiring in the enclosure, was soon on his way back into town. He'd have to start trusting that people would be considerate and smart enough to follow his system. This running back and forth – especially from town – was a waste of fuel, and time, and a pain in the arse all around. He probably should have gone into the van and got changed, but he was presentable enough. He was keen to get in and see what Auntie Ethel needed him for. Hell, he'd been known to turn up to fight a fire or attend a meeting straight from the sheep yards or shearing shed in filthy, greasy clothes and with a face brown with dirt!

‘Right, so what can I do for you, Auntie?' he said after giving his favourite relative a hug.

‘Come in,' she said, ushering him and his hangers-on in.

‘Stay,' he commanded Bob and Cara.

‘Cuppa?' Ethel said at the bench.

‘Milo would be good, thanks.'

Finally, with a mug in front of them both, the box of kittens on the floor and Jemima and Squish sprawled beside them, Ethel seemed ready to get down to business.

‘Remember how I agreed to leave well alone with this predicament of Jacqueline's?'

‘What have you done?'

‘Nothing, yet. But …'

‘It's her business, Auntie. I don't think …'

‘Hear me out. There's been a development. Someone has reported her indiscretion and she's received a please explain letter from the medical board.'

‘Oh no.'

‘Yes.'

‘Is she okay? God, she must be freaking out.'

‘I haven't actually spoken to her since she spoke to Doctor Squire. All hell broke loose yesterday, apparently. She went in really early to talk to him …'

‘Hang on. How do you know if you haven't spoken to Jacqueline?'

‘Because Doctor Squire, John, came to me.' Ethel puffed up ever so slightly with pride. ‘He rang and asked me to pop around last night on the quiet.'

‘I'm not sure it's a good idea to be discussing Jacqueline behind her back like that.'

‘No, no, it's not like that. Hear me out. He asked me to ask you if you would write a letter of support for Jacqueline, indicating you are not adversely affected by the brief relationship, that you haven't actually had sexual relations …'

‘What? Now steady on. That's a bit bloody personal, don't you think?' he said, feeling the heat begin to creep up his neck.

‘Now is not the time to get all coy, Damien. Jacqueline's whole career is at stake.'

Damien had the selfish thought that if it had come to this anyway, he could have been enjoying being with her all this time. God, what a bloody waste.

‘Right. Got it. When does it need to be done by?'

‘In the post no later than Tuesday. He's going to see her again first thing Friday morning. He said he doesn't want her having the time to stew on it too much. Oh, and we're keeping all this on the quiet.'

‘I don't know …'

‘It's not me, Damien. It's on the advice of Doctor Squire, and I wasn't about to argue. If anyone knows what they're doing, it's him.'

‘Hang on. Why didn't he call me himself?'

‘He didn't want you getting worried about being called in to see him – like you were being called up before the headmaster for being in trouble, or something. Here's the reference number for her case you need to include,' she said, handing over a scrap of paper with a four-digit number scribbled on it.

‘Okay. Fair enough.' Damien was glad for the doctor's sensitivity. That would have been exactly how he would have felt. He probably would have become a nervous wreck and more than likely put off turning up to see the good doctor at all.

‘I'm thinking a letter of support from the local constabulary, Apex and CFS wouldn't go astray, either.'

‘I can do that. I'll be seeing those blokes tonight.'

‘Good. I'm going to do a ring around – CWA, church groups. Just make sure you give everyone the reference number and make sure they understand how important it is, and when it needs to be sent by. And that it needs to be kept on the down low.'

Damien almost smiled at seeing how animated Ethel was becoming. There was that light in her eyes that had disappeared for a bit. He would have ribbed her about it if this wasn't so serious, didn't involve Jacqueline.

‘Hey, we could do a petition via Facebook,' he said, becoming a little excited himself. ‘I know we don't have long, but do you think it'd be worth a shot?'

‘I don't know. We don't have long. And we need to keep this quiet. Jacqueline wouldn't like a fuss and won't …'

‘She's not on Facebook.'

‘Really? Even
I'm
on Facebook!'

‘Since when?'

‘Oh, the other day. Madge, Doris and Janet insisted. Apparently Nancy Squire is too, so I thought, what the hell? Are you sure she's not on it and won't see what we're up to?'

‘Positive. I've searched for her.' Damien was a little embarrassed. There was no way he'd own up to just how much time he'd spent searching, trying to cyber-stalk Jacqueline. She was on LinkedIn, but that was all he'd been able to find. He wondered if she had a particular objection to Facebook and Twitter or if she just hadn't been interested enough to get involved in the more social sites. Would it bother her if they put something up about her on Facebook? Even if it did, she'd appreciate it was for the right reason, wouldn't she? She wasn't too proud to accept help, was she? And she was on LinkedIn, so it wasn't as if she had a serious aversion to having an online presence – that's what it was called, wasn't it? Fancy all the local wrinklies being into it. He'd better send Auntie Ethel a friend request and keep an eye on her!

‘I'll have to have a think about Facebook,' Ethel mused. ‘But in the meantime, you're clear with what you need to do?'

‘Yep. Write a letter of support and get some others to, but keep it quiet. Got it,' Damien said.

‘Because I don't need to tell you how important this is.'

‘No, you don't.'

Chapter Fifteen

When Rob and Cecile picked Jacqueline up that evening she was more nervous than usual about her talk. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say, but she did feel a little rushed after only having been approached that morning. She couldn't exactly refuse the request – the head of the CFS had practically begged her. He said he was seriously concerned that yesterday's destructive blaze, coming so soon after the recent loss of the McAllister house, might be the straw to break his team's back. How was he to know she was dealing with her own disaster? She certainly hoped word hadn't got around – and wouldn't. Her mind was still processing the surprising turn her conversation with Doctor Squire had taken and she was feeling quite disconcerted about her life. It didn't help that she'd be seeing Damien in person – and in public – for the first time since their break-up.

If she'd been the one who'd ended things between them, she might have gone across the road to Ethel's, where his ute was parked, and made sure the air was clear. But it wasn't her call, it was his. She was a little hurt that he was so close yet apparently so far away, even though she understood – well, she was trying to. If only he wasn't going to be there tonight, but the universe wouldn't let her off the hook that easily.

As she walked with Rob and Cecile from the car to the brightly lit shed carrying the plates of food Cecile had prepared, Jacqueline told herself that she would put her predicament out of her mind for a few hours and focus on helping the community she was now part of, like Damien would want her to. Anyway, she might need this night to go well so as to insulate her against her clients drying up if word did get out about her blunder. Determined to be sociable and enjoy being out of the house, she pushed the negativity away and focussed on having a smile on her face when she entered the shed.

Keith Stevens hugged her so tightly she thought she might run out of air, but she was grateful to be so enthusiastically welcomed. He introduced her around and made sure she knew plenty of people. She felt welcome, not too much of an outsider, and didn't get the impression people were talking about her behind her back – you could always tell.

As she turned to take in the crowd to see who else she knew, she caught sight of Damien in the far corner, talking in a small group. Not wanting things to be awkward between them, she raised a hand in friendly greeting. He either didn't see her or he deliberately avoided making eye contact: instead of returning her smile and gesture, he turned away and raised his beer bottle to his lips. She felt a surge of disappointment the likes of which she didn't think herself capable.

Keith had her speak before they enjoyed their barbecue, joking that it was the only way they'd get the group to listen. She made a mental note to keep things even briefer than usual – hungry people were rarely an attentive audience.

Her part of proceedings seemed to go well. She kept her head, remained focussed, and spoke confidently. The restless, almost bored-looking expressions of her audience appeared to grow into understanding, a look that flowed right across the large space. She urged people to talk to each other, explore their feelings, and share them with their loved ones, their mates, their colleagues.

‘Everyone reacts differently to each situation. Everyone
feels
differently afterwards. For some people the grief, guilt, sadness and fear hits straightaway. For others it can happen slowly, over quite a long period of time. And for others still it can hit later, but hard, like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. There are no rules. You feel what you feel, when you feel it. But it's important that if you don't like what you feel or if it's having a negative impact on your life, then it's important to get some professional help. Sometimes just knowing you're not going crazy and what you're feeling is completely normal, and being experienced by others, is all the help you need.

‘Partners can sometimes be affected almost as much by what you've seen and been through,' she continued, ‘even if they weren't there. Often our moods and behaviour change when we have a lot on our minds. And quite often we don't see the changes because we're too close to the situation or we think we're doing a great job of behaving normally, carrying on as usual. So it's important to gauge the reactions of those around you, listen to their feedback. Even if it seems like criticism, and you don't want to hear it. Be careful not to shut people out and think you can deal with these things on your own – you don't need to. Just remember, there is help available and, as my favourite saying goes, a problem shared is a problem halved. There's no shame in saying, “You know what, I'm not sure what's going in my head, but I don't feel quite right. And I don't like it.” Even if you don't want to come and talk to me or another professional – a conversation that would be entirely confidential – talking to someone,
anyone
, will help. It's not about burdening them. In my experience, people genuinely want to help. And by listening, they are helping.'