Standing Strong (20 page)

Straight into a chest. It was the same chest she'd almost crushed a plate of dessert into at the CFS shed.

‘Well hello there, Jacqueline, you really know how to get a man's attention,' Paul Reynolds said, flashing that gorgeous smile.

‘Shit, sorry,' Jacqueline blurted, blushing wildly.

‘Paul Reynolds, nice to meet you,' he said smoothly to Philip, and stuck out his hand.

‘Philip Havelock, the pleasure is all mine,' Philip said a little quizzically as he rearranged his armful of cold drinks and accepted the hand. While Paul was distracted, Jacqueline took the opportunity to take in his wet, mussed hair, thicker stubble, large, tight muscles on tanned arms and lovely lean legs beneath his navy and white striped board shorts. Christ, the man's feet even looked good in thongs!

‘I'd better leave you to your lunch while it's hot,' Paul said, nodding to the paper-wrapped bundle she held tightly to her chest, trying to ignore how warm it was making her. She wished she was the one who'd grabbed the drinks – she needed one or two to put to her forehead and chest right about now.

‘Thanks. Yes,' Jacqueline blustered.

‘I'll see you 'round.'

‘Yes. Right. See you.'

‘Are you okay?' Eileen said, as Jacqueline handed everything over to Ethel in the passenger seat.

‘Fine. Let's get out of here,' she muttered, avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

‘It might be nice to sit here,' Eileen said, pointing at the picnic table under the verandah.

‘No,' Jacqueline said, a little too sharply. It was only a matter of time before Paul came out again and she didn't like what seeing him did to her.

She sensed Ethel chuckling beside her and turned to look at her friend. If she wasn't so intent on getting away from here – fast – she might have smiled at the knowing, cheeky expression on Ethel's face. Instead she looked back to the windscreen.

‘What's going on, Philip?' Eileen asked as Philip got in beside her. ‘Jacqueline is acting strangely.'

‘I think you'll find your daughter is blushing and flustered as a result of just having been flirted with by a nice-looking young man,' Philip said.

‘Oh. Right. Lovely,' Eileen said, looking almost as flustered as Jacqueline. In the rear-vision mirror, Jacqueline noticed her mother open and then close her mouth, very much like she was about to say, ‘But what about Damien?'

‘Yep, Paul Reynolds strikes again,' Ethel said, grinning and nodding. ‘Bit dishy, that one.'

‘The young man who walked past?' Eileen asked. ‘Yes, he was rather a fine specimen.'

‘Mum!'

‘Dear, I'm not too over the hill to appreciate a fine set of tanned muscles. Sorry, Philip.'

‘Hey, don't stop on my account,' Philip said, laughing, ‘I'd be worried if you didn't notice a fine-looking man.'

‘As you still are, dear,' Eileen said.

‘You're all too much,' Jacqueline said, shaking her head in consternation, but smiling.

‘I heard you met him the other night,' Ethel said. ‘He's a nice young man, as well as nice looking.'

Jacqueline blushed again and opened her mouth to say she'd never cheat on Damien, but Ethel got in first.

‘We know you love Damien, but it doesn't hurt to keep your eye in.' She paused. ‘Well, you know what I mean.'

‘Yes, dear,' Eileen added. ‘Sometimes it's nice to enjoy a piece of art, even if you wouldn't necessarily want it hanging on your wall.'

‘Okay, thank you all for your advice. Right, to the jetty, unless there are any objections?' she said, glancing left and right before driving off. While she was sure she would stay true to Damien, her mother was right, what harm did it do to admire the scenery?

Chapter Twenty

Damien pulled up outside Dorothy's house per Tina's instructions. Despite him being ten minutes early, there his mother was, sitting on the step at the end of the path like a school kid waiting for the bus. Why wouldn't she wait inside with her friend? It wasn't as if it was a ridiculous hour of the day – it was ten in the morning. He'd wondered why Tina had asked to be picked up here since she'd announced her plans and requested his taxi service. She'd told him sharply that she'd be leaving her car in Dorothy's yard out of sight. It just didn't make sense – why would his mother leave her car out in the weather when she could have left it in her own garage? But he didn't ask – to do so would be like the interrogations Tina rolled out. There was clearly something going on with her that she didn't want to tell him about and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

God, I hope she hasn't suddenly got Alzheimer's, he thought with a start as he stowed her luggage in the back and tied everything down. But if she was confused, she wouldn't have arranged for him to be here and wouldn't have her bags, ticket or passport. And she did, pulling the items out and showing him in response to his query.

Tina got into the vehicle and sneered with distaste at finding she would be sharing her space with Squish. Damien wanted to point out that it was his ute and he could have whomever he liked in it, but he couldn't be bothered.

She'd have a fit if she knew Jemima had most likely left roo fur all over the seat where she was sitting. Did roos shed like dogs and cats? He didn't know, but he was sure Tina McAllister wouldn't be impressed. He probably should have given the cab a vacuum. It was a bit stale smelling, now he thought about it. Squish, seeming to sense the hostility, snuggled up close to Damien's leg and put his head on his master's thigh.

They set off, waving to the few people walking the streets of the tiny town. While Damien drove, his mother chattered non-stop, even going so far as to get out the brochure and point out things in London she was looking forward to seeing and doing. He focussed on the road ahead, occasionally nodding and murmuring in a vague show of interest. She was clearly nervous. It was understandable, given she was leaving Australia for the first time ever. Damien wondered what the dickhead shearer thought about his estranged wife blowing a heap of dough on such a frivolous thing as an overseas trip. Perhaps she was nervous because she'd emptied their bank account without Geoff knowing, he found himself suddenly thinking. Perhaps she was not only fleeing her crumbled personal life and going to visit her daughter in order to draw some sort of line in the sand – perhaps she was actually becoming an international fugitive.

Christ, where did that come from?
Clearly he hadn't had enough sleep. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but did literally shake his head slowly in an attempt to be more sensible. Anyway, he had plenty of his own stuff to think about. These days his brain was constantly whirring with ideas for ways to make money for the farm. It was all quite exciting – he felt he really had found his calling. And there was all the other not so interesting stuff to do: he had to phone Steve Smith about putting in a crop for hay, and organise for the sheep to be crutched before too long. And then there were the fixtures and fittings to choose for the house. He'd once looked forward to making these choices – when Jacqueline was in the picture. He reminded himself that it was technically his mother's house and perhaps she might like to make these choices – or should be making these choices. Thank goodness she'd come to her senses and gone home and turfed the dickhead shearer out, otherwise he might have been facing the horrible prospect of her living back at the farm with him. He actually shuddered at the thought. God, if that happened he might really shoot himself. No, he shouldn't say such things, even in jest. Suicide and thoughts of suicide really were not laughing matters, as he knew only too well. He was past all that now and had himself together and his life sorted. But the truth was, without Jacqueline, he wasn't feeling one iota of interest in this homemaker side of things. While he was very grateful for them rebuilding his house and would love having all that space again, if it was left up to him, he might just stay put in the caravan until the owner made noises about wanting it back.

He should really be staying on in Lincoln for a few hours to clear some decisions away, but he felt very uneasy about leaving Jemima in the run and was keen to get home. She was safe enough, but he still felt guilty. Squish had whined at leaving her behind too, which had made it all so much worse. He felt bad about leaving the kittens and imposing on Auntie Ethel too, not that she seemed to mind. He'd hoped to bring them along, but there really wasn't enough room and Tina would have had kittens herself if asked to nurse the box on her lap. While she was being supportive of his venture, that support clearly didn't stretch to developing an affection or even, it seemed, a tolerance for the furry creatures in his care. Thank God he had Auntie Ethel and Philip Havelock. He was so disappointed – far more than he thought he should be – at missing Philip's visit. His feelings were ridiculous, given Eileen and Philip would be moving over permanently before too long.

Damien had asked Ethel if she'd drive Tina down to the plane instead, but while she'd sympathised, she'd refused, pointing out that it wouldn't pass muster with Tina. It was part of the politics of the place: just like one must stay with one's own flesh and blood, one must ferry one's flesh and blood to airport and return, else the tongues would be set wagging. Absolutely mortifying for the likes of Tina McAllister. There were reputations to uphold and social norms to conform to. Sometimes it did Damien's head in, but he always went along with all the palaver because that was less painful than a glacial, purse-lipped glare of disapproval from the ice-queen, his mother.

‘I'm still disappointed Lucy wouldn't have me stay,' Tina suddenly said with a huff before folding her arms tightly across her chest.

‘I think it's more that she couldn't, rather than wouldn't.' Damien felt the need to defend his sister. While they didn't have much of a relationship these days, Lucy had rung after the fire and they'd had quite a nice chat – better than they'd had in years. Anyway, while he thought it high time Lucy put up with their mother for a few days, he did feel for her. He got the distinct feeling Lucy really didn't like Tina. And Lucy wasn't as good at putting her head down and not taking the bait, just shutting up, as he was. He'd had way more practice.

‘And can you believe I have to find a taxi and then her office on my own? She couldn't even meet me at the airport!'

‘Hmm. It might be fun – an adventure,' Damien ventured.
God, I really am getting better at thinking positive. It's even starting to come naturally
.

‘Yes, well!' was Tina's response – the fallback when she couldn't find a decent retort to carry on an argument. They descended into silence.

‘So how's everything going with you? How's the romance?' Tina said suddenly, shattering Damien's peace.

He thought about lying rather than opening himself up for more questions and a possible interrogation. Just the thought of Jacqueline made him glow warmly with happiness and feel very sad and annoyed all at once. He said: ‘Everything is fine. But Jacqueline and I … we're no longer seeing each other.'

‘Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. She seemed nice enough. Probably for the best, though.' Damien noticed out the corner of his eye that she was staring at her hands and fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.

‘Why do you say that, Mum?'

‘Oh. Well it's probably not really right, is it, you seeing her when she's been your therapist?'

Damien's antenna shot up and a split second later the blood froze in his veins.
No, surely not.

‘Is there something you're not telling me, Mum?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You tell me.' He'd have loved to have stared her down until she answered, but as he was driving, all he could do was shoot her a quick, icy glare.

‘I heard it's not allowed – relationships between patients and therapists. And for two years even after the professional relationship has stopped,' she said, a little defensively.

‘Where did you hear that?'

‘Um, I'm not sure now. But it doesn't matter if you're not seeing each other, er, romantically. As I said, it's for the best. Jacqueline could have got into a lot of trouble.'

‘She did,' he said quietly. And then louder: ‘She
has
got into a lot of trouble, Mum.'

‘What? No, but …' Tina McAllister's head shot up and there was a second before she managed to compose herself where Damien saw the truth, confirmation of what he'd been beginning to suspect.

‘You dobbed her in, didn't you? How could you?'

‘It was for your own good. I did it for you. But I fixed it. I took it back, wrote another letter straight away when I saw how much she was helping you.'

‘Well, she's received a please explain letter from the medical board. You've got her in deep shit, Mum. Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone? I was happy. For probably the first time in my life, I was truly happy.' His heart clenched, but he was too angry for tears to form.

‘I was upset, angry, worried about you …'

‘Worried I might be happy, more like. Worried I might learn to stand up for myself. You can't fucking control everyone and everything, Mum. You just can't.'

God, he so badly wanted to pull over and yell at her to get out. He couldn't look at her, didn't want her anywhere near him. He was so angry. Worse – disappointed. He thought they'd turned a corner.

‘I was worried. I still am.'

‘So why? Why would you do this to me, to us? You've put Jacqueline's whole career in jeopardy. She might lose everything. And the district. She's good for this place. She saves lives. I can't believe how fucking selfish you've been.'

‘But I tried to put it right. I wrote again straightaway.'