Chanel Sweethearts (9 page)

The joy of the memory was quickly replaced with the pain of missing them. Was she even a mother anymore? She had loved them, she still loved them; her heart ached to hold them.

She stopped walking and stood frozen, lost and directionless. Suddenly an arm slipped through hers and she was being gently led forwards.

‘Come on, Jess,' Nick said. ‘How about a cuppa? I've got a thermos in my ute.'

Mute, Jess allowed herself to be steered through the bright morning away from the pain and dislocation that sat jagged and painful inside her.

‘Thanks, Nick,' she said, grateful for his presence and support. He nodded, but kept his head down and his hand thrust in the pocket of his khaki shorts as he propelled her gently towards the car park.

‘It's okay, Red. You looked like you could use a friend,' he said, his blue eyes meeting hers briefly.

‘It was the boys,' she said quietly.

‘I figured.' They picked their way over the bumpy paddock that served as market car park.

‘I'm sorry, Nick, I know we've been over this so many times...' she started.

He stopped abruptly between a sleek midnight blue Mercedes and a rusty Landcruiser. He pulled Jess in front of him. ‘And you'll probably need to keep talking about it again and again until you can make peace with it in your head, and that's okay.' He was grasping her hands tightly and Jess saw the pain flicker across his own eyes.

‘It's okay for me to talk about my stuff, but you never talk about yours,' she said hoarsely.

He immediately dropped her hands. ‘Some things are better left alone.'

Jess shook her head and they made their way to his ute in silence.

Caro – arms laden with shopping, grizzly children in tow– observed Jessica and Nick stand face-to-face in the grassy car park and she tilted her head to one side. What was that about? she wondered. Could a relationship between them be beneficial to the family? Caro walked towards the highly polished Cayenne, unlocked it and dumped her stuff in the boot.

To Caro, family was everything and she had worked hard to get the one she wanted. When they'd met at university, she had been determined to marry Angus Wainwright. He was wealthy, connected, from a good, strong, well-known family and owned acreage. (As a country girl, she well knew the value of acreage.) And besides, she'd really, really liked him. She remembered something about weak knees. They'd met in first year: he was studying Law and she was doing an Arts degree. Although she'd attended a private school, the young Caroline Phillips wasn't from a wealthy family. Her family lived in a remote country town and Caro had boarded in the city since Grade Four. She never really got to know her older sisters, who both married young and moved away; one to a Queensland macadamia nut farm and the other to pursue a corporate career alongside her husband in Sydney. Once the older girls were married off, her parents felt that their parenting duties were over, and had little interest in their ‘surprise baby', Caro, who had muscled her way in fifteen years after they thought they had completed their family. Her mother had been delighted with what she had thought was menopause, but distraught when she'd discovered she was actually pregnant at the age of forty-seven.

Caro had vague memories of coming home for holidays to parents who were constantly working: fencing, shearing, watering, feeding. She would get a tired smile from her mother, and an occasional conversation with her dad. She presumed they were proud of her; she had no evidence to the contrary. She never looked back on her childhood with regret or sadness. What was the point?

These days she was fiercely protective of the beautiful family life she had built so carefully. She would never risk feeling as lonely and isolated as she had as a child.

She looked over at Jessica, now perched on the tray of Nick's ute, her head on his shoulder and clearly in the middle of a deep and meaningful conversation.

Caro started the ignition with a roar and gripped the steering wheel with determination. She had plans for this family and she hadn't decided yet if Nick Johnson would fit into that picture.

Richard felt a familiar rumble of excitement in his guts as he turned onto Old Quarry Road.

What a place, what a view! He never got sick of it. The uninterrupted expanse of paddocks flanked by hills that reached to the edges of the sky. He was almost home. He wound down his window to breathe in the familiar aroma of the lemon-scented gums.

Richard had been raised on this property. His family had bought it when he was a boy and he'd moved down with his three brothers, parents and grandparents. He'd gone to boarding school with his brothers, but it was nearby so he came home every Friday night. The weekends were a glorious ruckus of catching up with all the local news, enormous meals and helping the old man with a bit of farm work. Local mates would drop in to kick the footy, family would drive up from town for a house party and the barbecue sizzled from dawn to dusk.

He and Eva had met at a produce export company in Melbourne. After they had married and were expecting their first baby, Richard's elderly parents had asked them to come back home and help run the property. They'd been thrilled with the opportunity and together had turned Springforth into a vibrant business and a basis for their busy family and social life.

A similar, if somewhat more gentle, lifestyle continued at the property nowadays and Richard always looked forward to coming back. He just wished Genevieve had been free to join him this weekend: she liked to roam the property, soaking up its ambience and admiring its many aspects. Mind you, he thought ruefully, Gen's absence would save him having to deal with Caro's frostiness towards his girlfriend.

He swung his Mercedes into the long driveway and crawled along the gravel to savour the landscape. A few sleepy heifers chewed slowly and gazed at him passing by. As he pulled up in the circular driveway in front of the house, he gave three quick toots to announce his arrival.

‘Pop!' A welcoming committee of two small people came racing around the corner. Richard put out his arms and hugged his grandchildren as one. ‘Hello, Hamish, what a big strong lad you've become, and little Charlotte, what a pretty frock.'

The two stood smiling expectantly, waiting for their grandfather's regular routine to begin.

‘I suppose you guys want money?' he asked, as he always did. ‘But I'm all out,' and he pulled out his pockets in an exaggerated pantomime to demonstrate their emptiness.

‘Pop!' The children squealed in delight.

‘I'm completely broke!' he replied with a smile. ‘What about your money? You've got money. Don't you keep it in your pocket?'

Hamish beamed madly while Charlotte cackled in hysterics.

‘You don't keep it in your pockets? Well, where do you keep it then?'

Charlotte could barely contain her mirth and bounced up and down as she giggled.

‘Hang on, what's this?' Richard appeared confused as he peered at the side of Charlotte's head. He reached forward and tickled her on the ear, then drew his hand back and, with a flourish, presented her with a two-dollar coin.

‘In your ear! What a crazy spot to keep your money. And what about you, Hamish, are you as silly as your sister?'

Again his hand moved into the child's ear and pulled out a gold coin.

‘You're both as mad as hatters. You should keep your money in a bank, not in your ears!'

The children, clutching their windfall, ran back inside the house, and Richard followed.

‘Dad!' Jessica came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her floral pinny.

‘Hello, my girl,' Richard said and embraced his only daughter.

‘Hello, Richard,' Caro was close behind and offered her powdered cheek for Richard's peck. He ignored it and gave her a big squeeze as well.

‘Something smells good!' Richard said and led the way into the kitchen.

‘Oh, that's the pumpkin roasting for the spinach, fetta, pine nut and pumpkin salad for lunch. I know it's your favourite,' Caro said as she took the sizzling golden vegetable from the oven to cool.

‘Mmm,' Richard murmured and looked nervously at Jessica.

‘And roast beef,' Jess quickly reassured him as she brandished the carving knife over the cooled piece of eye fillet.

‘Mmm!' Richard repeated, this time with infinitely more enthusiasm.

‘No Genevieve?' Caro asked from the kitchen bench as she vigorously stirred a jug of margaritas.

‘No, she has family stuff on,' Richard replied.

‘Shame, we just don't get to see her enough,' she said.

Jessica shook her head; her sister-in-law would make a terrible actress.

They settled out on the deck that overlooked the property. Richard accepted his salt-encrusted drink from Caro with thanks. ‘How's business, Caro? Still wheeling and dealing?'

Caro looked smug. ‘Yes, faaabulous, Richard.' She placed the jug onto the table. ‘Carnegie is a little gold mine. I knew it would be. I'd predicted that place would go off for years. I've just done a twenty-four per cent increase in profit in six months.

Richard grinned. She was a tiger, and he admired that. She'd always get what she wanted. He sat back on the Adirondack chair and let out a huge sigh that dispersed all the stresses of his week in the city. A huge smile came over his face as he surveyed his land.

‘It looks fantastic, Jess. Nick's doing a great job.'

‘Yes, he is. He's coming for lunch to see you, by the way.'

‘Excellent, I'd love to thank him. Best thing we did, getting rid of that other guy and putting Nick on last year.'

‘He certainly knows what he's doing. I think he wants to talk to you about the rear fence on the top paddock.'

‘Oh, yes, I know what he'll want. That's fine: it needs electrifying if we're going to have Billy the bull back next season. He's a bugger of a thing. Nick seems so much better nowadays. He was in such as state after the baby died, wasn't he? Does he ever talk about it?'

‘Yeah, he was a mess,' Jess nodded. ‘He still won't talk to me about it. I feel rotten that I wasn't there for him, but he just disappeared. I didn't even know about the break-up till months later. I don't even know that many details because we'd drifted apart at that stage. I mean, I wasn't even asked to the wedding so I just figured he had a whole new group of friends.'

‘Hmm, tragic business,' Caro said.

Richard sat and enjoyed the sun on his face and the view of the bay in the distance, nestled between the two hills in from his bottom paddock. Having Jessica live here to keep the homestead humming was a great arrangement, he thought happily. The hundred hectares had been in his family for sixty years now and he was proud that it paid its own way with Wagyu beef cattle.

He watched Hamish and Charlotte chasing each other around the front lawn and smiled with satisfaction. He had visions of his grandchildren bringing their grandchildren here one day. It would be his legacy to his descendants. Generations of Wainwrights would touch this soil, make a living from it, walk on it and love it as much as he did.

‘So, Richard,' Caro interrupted his thoughts.

‘Yes, Caro,' he replied, somewhat distracted.

‘What are your plans for the property?'

‘Well, there's that top electric fence we were just talking about–'

‘No, no – the future of the property. It's a lot of land, you know.'

‘You're right, and it's tricky to manage with just that one shed. I'm thinking of building a large barn, just up the back behind the rain tanks. And getting a new tractor with a thresher so Nick doesn't have to rent one each season. I'm also considering a highly confidential agricultural proposal at the moment.'

Caro flicked her fingers impatiently. ‘No, no, the long-term plans, I mean. You are aware rural land in this region is worth thirty-five thousand per hectare? You could get nine mil or even more, considering the views.'

Jessica gasped and quickly looked at her father to see his reaction.

During his career, Richard had captained his industry and become director of boards for many reasons, including his high intellect, superior negotiating skills, and balls of steel. But Richard Wainwright's peers would acknowledge his greatest strength around the boardroom table was his poker face.

He turned to his daughter-in-law, the serene smile still playing on his face.

‘I don't think so,' he said simply. He took a sip of his drink and looked back at the view.

‘But–' Caro tried.

‘I said, I don't think so!' Richard repeated pleasantly with his eyes closed and the same peaceful countenance. But Jessica, knowing her dear old dad as well as she did, heard the underlying icy tone and silently warned Caro to shut the hell up.

‘Well, I just think we have the right to know the property's future, that's all,' Caro said in a small voice, taking a large gulp of her drink.

Rainbow and Songbird's kids had spent a busy morning picking through the mini-skip from next door's building site and creating an array of recycled Christmas ornaments. Tin-can baubles, foil tinsel and plasterboard angels hung from the fallen gum tree branch that was now their Christmas tree.

‘Kiani, that's absolutely fantastic. Songbird,' Rainbow called, ‘come and see the Christmas wreath Kiani's made.'

Songbird, spade in hand, rounded the corner of the weatherboard house to where Rainbow and Kiani were admiring the artwork.

Kiani had found an old toilet seat and, after a thorough wipe down with vinegar and bi-carb, had wound wire around and around the u-shape. She'd then attached metal offcuts to the shape and made stars by binding together twigs and painting them silver. Fresh sprigs of poinsettia gave the wreath colour.

‘Girl, you've outdone yourself. That's freaking fantastic.' Songbird ruffled the elfin haircut of her eldest and went back to the compost heap.

‘Remy and Tyson helped, too,' Kiani said, eager for credit to go where it was due, ‘but Darren, Taylor and Sunshine were just too annoying so I told them to go hunt for koalas.'

‘Good idea.' Songbird laughed at her initiative, then turned back to the job at hand.

Rainbow followed her and picked up another spade to help turn the compost. The women worked away at the pile of muck in companionable silence, flicking and turning it in the early morning sunshine.

Rainbow suddenly downed tools as she remembered something. ‘I called Jessica this morning. Did you know she was going to bail tonight?'

Songbird looked up. ‘What? Why?'

‘She didn't think that we would want her since she doesn't have any kids to bring this year. She said she thought it was a BYO-kids-or-don't-come deal.'

‘Stupid cow. Did you set her straight?'

‘Yeah! Of course.'

Jess had shared Christmas Eve eve with Rainbow and Songbird for the past four years. Her boys had revelled in the junkyard atmosphere of the hippies' relaxed backyard, and their festive get-together had quickly become a much-enjoyed tradition.

‘I'm worried about her, Songbird. She's still not quite right. We need to look after her.'

‘Course we do, but she'll be right, mate. She's a tough chick, it'll take more than this to get her.'

‘I still can't believe that Graham could walk away like that,' Rainbow said as she flicked fresh manure onto the heap.

‘Don't worry, as I've always said: karma will get the fucker.' Songbird was well known in the community for her words of wisdom and philosophy.

Two small boys ran through the yard, trailing shredded silver insulation lining. ‘Taylor and Tyson, what are you doing?' Song bird asked, with a scowl.

‘We're being falling stars, Mum!' Taylor shouted back as they zigzagged through the compost and ricocheted off the manure pile.

‘Meteors, you mean!' Rainbow called to the disappearing silver streaks.

‘Yeah, meteors, Mum!' Tyson yelled back.

‘We're doing the astronomy module at the moment,' Rainbow told Songbird.

‘Yeah. I start the human body next week, don't I?'

‘Yep, that should be so exciting.' As keen advocates of home schooling, the couple found that their children – especially the boys – learned faster if they got to experience their learning.

‘Tyson!' Rainbow yelled and stopped turning compost as the child darted by again. Tyson stopped and turned back. His enormous green eyes peeped out from under his dirty blond dreadlocks. ‘Yeah, Mum?'

‘Name the planets.'

Tyson grinned and dropped his outstretched flying arms into a karate starting stance for his favourite solar system kata.

‘Mercury!' he shouted and his arms crossed in front of his little body, arms finishing in fists. ‘Venus!' His right knee came up and landed in front, the left arm crossing over then forward into a palm heel. ‘Earth!' The palm heel dropped down and the left leg came forward in a quick kick. ‘Mars!' Each planet announcement came attached to a sharply executed karate move. When he got to Neptune he finished with a neat little bow, hands and feet together.

‘What about Pluto?' Songbird asked with a smile.

‘Pluto's not a planet!' he called out and zoomed off with his stepbrother.

The two mothers smiled at each other and continued their work.

‘They're here!' Sunshine yelled out. She'd been standing at the front fence awaiting Jessica's arrival. Four-year-olds Darren and Sunshine squealed in excitement. ‘Let's get this party started,' they sang as they scrambled from the sandpit.

Jessica had stopped to pick up another friend, Petal, the local beautician, and her three children, Jasmine, Rose and Willow. She was glad to do it, as she still couldn't get used to arriving at a kids' party solo.

‘Hi, girls,' Petal said with a broad grin as she hugged her friends.

Jessica was next in line and got an especially big hug from Songbird, who slipped a bit of healing reiki in her touch to give Jess strength.

‘Sorry about the mix-up, girls,' Jessica explained as they moved into the kitchen to deposit their offerings of wine and snacks. ‘I didn't know if it'd still be on ... you know, given the circumstances.'

‘You're a dumb bitch, you know,' growled Songbird as she rifled through the cupboard for a bowl to dump the carrot chips into. ‘Who do you think we are?'

‘Songbird means–' Rainbow started.

‘I said what I meant,' Songbird interrupted.

Jess laughed; she could well interpret Songbird's gruff manner by now.

They loaded up with organic hummus, julienned vegies and preservative-free white wine and made their way out to the backyard.

The children were shrieking with delight as they all joined in on an impromptu game of Geology Jump; loosely based on leapfrog, it was an invention of Songbird's during the ‘Mother Earth' teaching module.

‘So, how goes it?' Songbird asked Jessica. ‘Any progress with Graham?'

‘No, he still won't return my calls,' Jess said tightly.

‘I remember those days.' Rainbow said. ‘Bloody Jim was really difficult in the beginning. Men are awful when it comes to custody; it's not about the kids at all, in their mind. Suddenly, it's as if the children are property that you're trying to steal or something. Remember how he fought me in court until he finally got two days a week, and then he'd spend those two days at the office and have a nanny care for them? It made me so angry.'

‘That's just crap,' Petal sympathised.

‘Not half as bad as what Songbird went through. Tell 'em, Songbird.'

‘Straight after the separation, Trev decided he just
had
to have the kids,' Songbird said, and she took a drag from her rollie. ‘His life depended on it, apparently. You should have heard the sob stories at the mediation and through the lawyers. It was pathetic. Cost a freaking bomb. And the arguments in front of the kids! It was awful. Then when he finally got them fifty per cent of the time, he spent the whole the time on the phone to me whinging about them.'

‘God, you must have missed them so much,' Jess said, shaking her head in sympathy.

‘I did. Then he'd guts-ache if he wanted to go out and I couldn't drop everything and run over to pick them up. In the end he just stopped coming to collect them and now I have to phone
him
and remind him that he's a father who has responsibilities, for Chrissakes.'

‘Moron,' Petal said. ‘It would have saved a lot of money and time, and pain I'm sure, if he'd just let you have them from the start.'

‘Yeah, exactly,' Rainbow said, ‘but they don't care about the kids; it's just about winning; and trying to weasel out of paying maintenance, of course.'

‘I just want to see my boys. He can keep his money and his new lover; it was pretty much over between us anyway,' Jess said. ‘But I never thought he could do something like this to me.'

‘Hang in there, doll, it'll happen,' Songbird said. ‘It just takes time.'

‘And a good lawyer,' Petal added.

‘I'd prefer to avoid any more of that for the boys' sake,' Jess said and sighed, her face pale and wan. ‘And I'm not their biological parent, so my rights are really blurry.'

‘You love them,' Rainbow said, gently patting Jess's arm, ‘that must count for something.'

‘Mums, we're hungry!' Kiani yelled, breaking the sadness of the moment.

‘Okay, you can have your first course,' Rainbow called back. The children squealed and raced each other to the orchard, where they were each allowed to pick two pieces of fruit before lunch was served.

Lunch was a joyous grab-fest with Eugene enthusiastically joining the fray, fighting the kids for the salad. The adults and children sat around the outdoor table, which was an old door supported by two reclaimed builders' trestles. Rainbow leaned behind her chair and grabbed handfuls of cherry tomatoes and sprigs of basil, dumping them in an old hubcap they had cleaned and repurposed as the salad bowl. Petal had brought her famous vegetarian lasagne and Jess had baked her trademark gingerbread people dressed in bikinis and board shorts.

‘Cute!' Kiani squeaked. ‘Mine's got a bellybutton ring.'

‘Thanks for the biscuits, Jess,' Taylor said.

‘You're welcome,' Jess said and smiled at his serious little face.

‘Where are Liam and Callum? I miss them.'

‘Yes, I do too. They're with their dad today.'

‘Oh, okay, yeah. I have to go to my dad's tomorrow. Don't worry, they'll be back soon,' he reassured her, and ran off. Jess hoped that his famous skill for premonition was accurate today.

After they had eaten, it was present time. As Rainbow reached into a red linen sack to bring out a handful of gift-wrapped delights, Jessica watched the children's upturned faces. She remembered past Christmases so well. She would be so churned up with excitement by the time she went to bed each Christmas Eve that she'd be unable to sleep. The thought and effort that had gone into the perfect Christmas presents, the decoration, the evidence of Santa's visit took Jess weeks of planning. Every year had been more exciting than the one before. The idyllic Christmases of her youth came rushing back each time she filled a stocking or decorated another corner of the house. The boys would get increasingly excited as each day passed, and they loved checking their advent calendars each dawn for that day's surprise – Jessica had tailor-made the calendars so each day revealed a different small gift or treat.

Then last Christmas had happened. She'd never truly enjoy Christmas ever again, Jess thought bitterly as she watched her friends' kids rip into their gifts.

‘Water pistols!' the children yelled as the wrapping disintegrated.

Jessica stared at Rainbow and Songbird in amazement. ‘Guns?'

Songbird explained, ‘They're made from recycled timber and the reservoirs are old drinking yoghurt pots.' She looked over at the children filling up their guns from the water trough with glee. ‘They're
supposed
to be used for shooting the rabbits away from the vegie garden and the Indian mynahs away from the native birds. But I'm sure the occasional war game could be overlooked.'

‘Kill each other with love!' Rainbow warned as the children ran off, shrieking as they squirted each other.