Right As Rain (33 page)

“We've talked about this. I don't want her to be tied to the property. She works too hard. She should be doing something else – going out with friends, getting married, having babies. The farm is such a tie.”

“I don't see it that way.”

“Because you're a man.”

“So you think Patrick wants this weight around his neck?”

“Men work farms.” There. She'd said it. No matter what Lyle said and how much interest Mackenna showed, it was the male's right to inherit.

Lyle shook his head. “How can you choose between our children?”

“You already have. Mackenna gets free reign to do whatever she wants with the farm and all Patrick gets is a car.”

“And an education, HECS fees paid, accommodation in the city – which we're still helping with even though he's working now. Anyway, it was their choice. They've both had a chance to do what they want to do.”

“Patrick would step up if Mackenna wasn't in his way.”

They glared at each other. Louise pressed her lips together. How had her carefully planned discussion turned into this? She looked out the window. Night had fallen and lights glittered in the blackness.

Finally Lyle spoke. “I don't want to argue, Lou.”

“I'm sorry,” she said taking his hand, “neither do I.”

“What will we do?”

“We have to tell them. If Mackenna really wants to stay she can, but Patrick needs to prepare to take it all on when we no longer can.”

There was a knock on the door and a voice called, “Room service!”

A bright young man wheeled in a trolley and parked it next to their small table. Lyle made conversation with him and saw him out. Louise poured another glass of wine for herself and opened another beer for Lyle. They sat down and lifted the lid off the food.

“This smells good,” he said.

Louise pulled her lips into a smile. She'd ordered lamb. Another reminder of what they'd argued about. She should have asked for the fish.

”Keep your eyes closed.” Hugh glanced back at his mother, expecting to see her peeping.

“I am,” Mary said. “What are you up to?”

Molly sat at her feet. Her bell tinkled as she licked her paw.

Hugh jumped back to the verandah beside his mother.

“Now you can open them.”

She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light.

“What have you . . . oh, Hugh.”

She hurried forward to the table and chairs that Rory had restored. Molly beat her to it, already making circles on one of the seats.

“This is my old setting,” Mary cried. “It looks brand new.”

“Rory Heinrich did it.”

“I thought he made things from corrugated iron.”

“He does much more than that.” Hugh took his mother's hand. “Come and see.”

“What else have you done?”

“You'll see.”

He led her off the verandah and under the branches of the secret garden they'd been working on. He watched her face as she glanced around. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and she put her hands to her mouth.

“A birdbath,” she murmured through her fingers. She flung her arms around Hugh's neck. “Thank you,” she said.

“Do you like it?”

Mary let him go. She ran her hand over the small bronze bird perched on the edge of the old plough disk that Rory had turned into a bowl.

“I love it,” she said.

“That stump it's sitting on is from that old tree that fell down. You've got one of its branches for your seat.” Hugh nodded at the big log he'd helped her position when he'd first come home.

“It's perfect.”

She turned to him and he could see tears brimming in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You're welcome.”

Mary dug in her pocket and pulled out a hanky.

“You're not meant to cry,” Hugh said.

She blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. “It's the most special gift.”

Hugh felt a pang of remorse. He'd helped her with the garden because he enjoyed it, but a part of him knew it was also his way of trying to make up for not being home much. He knew that was the gift she wanted most and he couldn't give it to her.

“You go and sit on the verandah,” he said brightly, “and I'll make us a cup of tea.”

He'd thought she might argue but she didn't. Instead, she called out there were fresh biscuits in the tin and let him go.

When he came back his mother was just coming out of the secret garden with Molly firmly clasped in her arms.

“I'll have to put more bells on her collar.” Mary chuckled. “She's already been checking out the birdbath and helping herself to a drink. She probably thinks it's a giant water bowl just for her.”

Hugh set the tray on the table and they both sat down. The day had been warm but the wind had dropped out. Grey clouds were spreading across the sky.

“Do you think it will rain?” Mary asked.

“Forecast is saying rain but only one to five millimetres. Even if that does fall it's not enough.”

“We'll take any we can get.”

They lapsed into silence. Hugh took a deep breath. He needed to tell his mother about his plans and now was the best chance he had.

“Mum – ”

Mary cut him off. “You've done so much around here since you've been home. Fixing up that back verandah was such a surprise. It's been propped up for so long we didn't notice it anymore.” She paused. “Your father appreciated it as well.”

Hugh twisted his lips into a smile. His father would never say it but Hugh got the feeling he was finally seeing his youngest son as doing something useful. A pity that was all going to change.

“Mum . . .”

“You're not going to stay, are you?” she said.

There were no tears in her eyes now. He shook his head.

Her teeth clenched as she looked away.

“I'm sorry, Mum.”

“Don't apologise.” She stroked the cat on her lap.

“I've really enjoyed being home. I didn't . . .” He faltered and Molly's crackly purr punctuated the air between them.

“You didn't want to be home, did you?”

“Not at first.” Hugh decided to be honest. “I've conquered a few demons over these last weeks.”

Mary looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “Your father really only wants what's best for you. We both do.”

“I know. That's not what I meant.”

“Carol?”

Hugh nodded and took a mouthful of tea to hide his surprise. His mother had got it in one.

“You've carried that guilt for too long, love. You weren't to blame.”

“I understand that now.”

“Good. Maybe you'll come home more often in the future.”

Once again they lapsed into silence.

“What about Mackenna?” Mary asked.

“We're good mates again.”

“I'm glad, although I have a feeling Louise Birch was lining you up as her future son-in-law.”

“Really?” Hugh felt a small pang of sadness for lost possibilities.

“Is there something else?”

He glanced at his mother and looked away.

“This isn't a criticism but you've hardly been home in ten years, love, and when you did come home you were like a shadow. I worried about you. Lately you've been much more like the old Hugh. Was there more to it than grieving for Carol?”

Hugh clasped his hands tightly then let them go. If he didn't tell his mother now, he never would.

Mary reached across and gripped his hand. “What is it, love?”

Hugh lifted his gaze to meet his mother's. “I'm okay now,” he said and knew he meant it, “but when I took that job in Victoria I suffered panic attacks.”

Mary gripped his hand tighter but didn't say a word.

“It was exactly two years after Carol's death. I'd just shifted to the Gippsland and didn't know a soul except for the bloke who employed me. Thankfully there was an agricultural counsellor working for the business.” Hugh would never forget her calm reassurance. “Jenny took me to a GP and a psychologist. Together they got me through it.”

When he thought back he could remember little of the first terrible month he was there. All he could recall was the pain and the sensation that his body was constantly on high alert. He'd craved sleep but his mind refused to rest. He'd tried to eat but the lump in his throat wouldn't let him.

Mary let go his hand. Her face was creased in a frown. “Did they tell you why it happened? You'd think if it was Carol's death it would have happened sooner.”

He recalled that first anxiety attack like it was yesterday. He'd arrived in town late one afternoon, checked out the office and then the accommodation. The bloke in charge had rounded up a few others and they'd come over with pizza and beer. It had been a big night.

“The psychologist told me when emotions are repressed they can resurface with the simplest connection. There was an old couch in the flat I was renting. It was the same as the one in the flat I shared with Carol. The night she left I'd fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television. I didn't even know she'd gone until the police woke me.”

“Oh, love.”

“Two years later there I am in a new town having a big night with the blokes from work, and I fell asleep on the couch.” Hugh paused. “In the early hours of the morning I jumped awake. My heart was hammering and I felt terrible – like I was going to die. Who'd have thought a tatty old couch would have such power?”

Mary got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh, Hugh.”

He stood up so she didn't have to bend and extricated himself from her hug. “I'm fine now. I've been to hell and back but I really am okay now.”

“I can't bear the thought that you went through it alone.”

“I wasn't alone. I had the right people to help me.”

She put a hand gently on his cheek. “But I wasn't there.”

“I had to conquer it myself. There was nothing you could do.”

“You're wrong, Hugh. You didn't give us a chance. We would have supported you through a terrible time.”

Hugh looked into his mother's gentle eyes and thought of his father.

“All of us,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “Let's sit down again. Tell me about this job you're taking.”

“It's in Canada.”

She paused momentarily then settled herself on her chair.

“It's the research project I was telling you about,” Hugh said. “It's a great opportunity.”

“When do you go?”

“A few weeks.”

Hugh watched his mother's profile as she stared straight ahead.

“I'm so glad we worked on the garden together,” she said. “I won't miss you so much when I'm out here.” Finally she turned to look at him. “Dad will miss you too.”

“What about the Sutton property he was going to buy?”

“We want you to be happy, love. We knew something was wrong, we just didn't know what. Your dad thought offering you a place of your own might be the answer.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” she said with a tiny smile. “You're a good, clever man. Your dad and I only want what's best for you. If that's researching in Canada, then you do it.” Her smile grew wider. “Maybe we could come and visit you.”

“Of course.” Hugh wasn't sure that would ever happen but he knew he'd be more than happy if they did.

“I'm good at trussing things up,” Adam said.

“I could get Dad's gun,” Hugh added.

“Big help you two are.” Mackenna laughed. It was a relief after her tense day working with Cam. She wasn't any closer to sorting out what was going on with him. On the surface he seemed to do his job but she no longer trusted him.

At the end of the day he'd taken off to town and she'd come home to find Adam had cooked dinner. They invited Hugh to join them. She told them about Cam and her concerns for all the things he was possibly up to. With a few beers under their belts, they'd started making outrageous suggestions to get rid of him.

“Seriously, your dad will be home soon,” Adam said.

“What's that got to do with it?”

“Maybe he should sort it out.”

“What's he going to do that I can't?” Mackenna bristled.

“Don't go there, mate,” Hugh said and made a silly face.

“I need a plan.” Mackenna drummed her fingers on the table.

“What sort of a plan?” Adam asked.

“Some way of catching him in the act. He's too good at covering his tracks.”

“So what's he actually done, apart from being a big-noting smart-arse?”

“Tell it like it is, Adam.” Hugh chuckled and got them all another beer.

“You hardly know him,” Mackenna said. She was surprised at Adam's strong reaction.

“I shared a room with him.”

“That would do it,” Hugh said and clinked his bottle against Adam's.

“I'd forgotten.” Mackenna fell silent. It was her fault Adam had been bunked in with Cam.

“So while you were sharing a room,” Hugh went on, “did you find out anything that might be useful?”

“He snores.”

“Anything that might be useful in finding out what he's been up to?”

“Not really. I just don't like the guy.”

“Ditto,” Hugh said.

“I had no idea you both felt that way,” Mackenna said. “I must admit my first impression of Cam was he was a bit over-confident but he appeared to be doing the job.” She stopped as she recalled her first weeks at home from holiday.

“He made eyes at you, didn't he?” Adam banged his beer on the table and Mackenna jumped.

“I wouldn't say that,” she said. “Don't go getting all macho protective over me. I can deal with Cam if I have to. I'm not sucked in by his attempt at charm.”