Flying the Coop (19 page)

‘Me neither!' Michael folded his arms across his chest again.

‘Don't be ridiculous.' Chris started to feel annoyed at their obstinacy. ‘And don't forget that the reason I got caught up in all this in the first place was because of you two, and that was probably also the reason I didn't want to see the truth. Because I want so much for you to be happy! So do you think I'd really be sitting here telling you we have to move if it wasn't the last resort?'

Zoe glared at her. ‘You call this a conference? This isn't a conference! That would mean we
all
get a say. Instead you're only
telling
us what we have to do! Next time why don't you just call it what it really is – a
dictatorship
!'

Realising that she was grinding her teeth, Chris took a deep breath and made a supreme effort to hold her temper. She decided to try a different tack: ‘
I
am the adult. That means
I
have to make the tough decisions. But I promise you that you'll get a
lot
of input into the new house-hunting. This time we'll go for drives and things. And you can pick the suburbs you like – we can even stay in Healesville if that's what you want, and then you won't have to move schools. How does that sound?'

‘You could always fire the bookkeeper,' said Dot enthusiastically. ‘That'll save you some money. The woman's a bitch, anyway. Excuse my French.'

‘We have a bookkeeper?' asked Chris with surprise, recalling the tiny, spider-like writing. She should have guessed Mac wasn't responsible for that.

‘Yes. For
years
.'

‘Well, it doesn't matter.' Chris refused to get sidetracked again. ‘It wouldn't make enough difference. There's no choice.'

‘What if I give up clothes?' asked Michael earnestly. ‘No more new clothes – ever!'

‘And I'll give up . . .' Zoe, who had sat back down, was obviously thinking frantically. ‘My phone! I'll give up that! And I'll download music and not buy it!'

‘And I won't have any more pocket money!'

‘And I'll give up lunches! You won't have to make me lunch anymore!'

‘Me neither!'

Having temporarily run out of ideas, the two watched their mother expectantly. And even though their expressions were totally different – Michael's open and beseeching, and Zoe's closed and furious – they both emitted a desperation that Chris hadn't been expecting. In fact, she was rather stunned by the intensity of their response, and found she had little to say. If relatively minor things, like mobile phones and lunches, could have made enough difference to the overall situation, she would have thought of them already. Well, maybe not the lunches. But the very fact that both kids were willing to give up such items showed the depth of their commitment to staying. And made her feel even worse. Chris glanced across and saw that Michael had both hands on the table, his fingers firmly crossed.

‘Actually,' said Dot brightly, ‘I might –'

‘Not now, Dot,' interrupted Chris shortly. She decided that she must be the worst mother in the world. She had dangled a dream in front of her children, and encouraged them through all the build-up till they actually had it – and then promptly took it away.
And
she had even tried using the fact that they wanted it so much as mitigation for her own responsibility. She was pathetic.

‘Listen, love,' said Dot, leaning forward in her chair, ‘if it's –'

‘If you sell this place,' said Zoe flatly, looking straight at her mother, ‘I swear I shall never, ever speak to you as long as you live. Ever.'

‘Hey, that's not fair!' Chris flashed from miserable to furious in a blink. She banged her hands down on the table and stared angrily at her daughter. ‘Do you think this is easy for me? You act like it's all about you – well, it's
not
! This was
my
dream too, remember? The country, the space, getting away from your fath – I mean, the whole independence thing. So how do you think
I
feel, having to admit failure? It's not just the money either, you know, it's being able to do this! And I found out today that I just
can't
!'

A bitter silence fell around the table. Chris glared at Zoe, who turned to stare at the wall, her mouth still resolutely set. Michael, who had been wide-eyed during the exchange, started to cry, not in a noisy, attention-seeking fashion, but just fat, slow tears that welled up in his eyes and then dribbled down his cheeks.

‘Who told you that?' asked Dot mildly. ‘That you can't do it?'

‘Pardon?' Chris, who was now feeling physically sick, pulled her gaze away from Michael and turned to Dot. ‘Um, it was Mac. Today.'

Dot shook her head in exasperation. ‘
Pfft
. And you listened t'him?'

‘Why wouldn't –'

‘I'll
tell
you why not. Because that man doesn't think women can do anything – except cook and clean and occasionally give birth. He's a Neanderthal, love. You don't want t'take any notice of him.'

‘But still –'

‘Still nothing. I oughta know, I've known the old fool for years. Now, I'm not saying he's a bad man, mind, or that he was lying or anything. That is,
he
didn't think he was lying. But the bottom line is that he thinks women are only good for one thing.'

‘What's that?' asked Michael, sniffing.

‘Never you mind, love.' Dot put an arm around Michael's shoulders, drew him close, and spoke in a dramatic tone. ‘You'll find out soon enough.'

Chris looked at Dot contemplatively. ‘So what you're saying is –'

‘He'd
never
think a woman was capable of running this place. Probably not even if he saw it with his own eyes. And he's wrong. I
know
how much work goes on here, and I'm not saying it's not a full-time thing, but once you learn the ropes, you'll be fine. So what do you say, love?' Dot looked at Chris and smiled. ‘Want t'show him?'

‘Yes, let's show him!' Zoe leant forward and spoke in a low voice. ‘C'mon – we
have
to! For women everywhere!'

‘But we've still got our other problem.' Chris looked at her daughter beseechingly. ‘We can't live on the income. We just can't.'

‘I've been
trying
t'tell you something,' said Dot, folding her arms across her chest smugly, ‘that might make a difference.'

‘If you're going to offer to, I don't know – help out somehow, Dot . . .' Chris shook her head slowly. ‘It's appreciated but really, it's only postponing the inevitable.'

‘Have you been through the books in there, love?' asked Dot, with her head on one side. ‘Gone back fifteen years or so?'

‘Um, no.' Chris looked at her with a frown. ‘I only went back five. Why? What difference does that make?'

‘A
hell
of a difference. Excuse my French.' Dot heaved herself out of her chair and, with everyone watching her in puzzlement, crossed over to the stove and picked up the kettle. ‘I'm going t'tell you a bit of a tale, but first I need a cuppa. Anybody else?'

‘Hot chocolate, please,' piped up Michael, wiping his pyjama sleeve across his eyes and then, for good measure, his nose.

Zoe sent a filthy look towards her mother. ‘No thanks. Lost my appetite.'

‘Well, I'll have tea thanks,' said Chris, trying to be polite but actually feeling extremely irritated at Dot for raising their hopes again. If there was one thing she
wasn't
going to miss around here, it was
her
.

‘You'll have t'bear with me.' Dot lit the gas ring, placed the kettle on top and then leant back against the bench facing them with her hands laced across her ample stomach. ‘See, there's a way t'make this place pay more, if you've got the time and energy. But it'll take some work. You'll have to roll up your sleeves, that's for sure.'

‘We can do that!' interjected Zoe, who barely even bothered making her own bed and whose school jumper bore mute evidence of her disinclination to roll up sleeves.

‘Don't interrupt,' snapped Chris, frowning at her daughter – who frowned straight back. ‘Dot, just
tell
us please.'

‘Okay, love, okay.' Dot, displaying her familiarity with Chris's kitchen, plucked two teacups from one cupboard and a
Star Wars
mug from another. Then she slowly –
very
slowly – started to assemble teabags, cocoa, sugar and milk. Chris, her fists clenched under the table, counted to ten – but Dot was still pottering about, now pouring boiling water into the various receptacles and humming contentedly to herself. Chris opened her mouth –

‘You see, what he
won't
have told you, because he won't have seen the need, is that fifteen years ago this business was booming.' Dot put Michael's hot chocolate down in front of him and Chris's tea before her. ‘But then, in those days he had a partner. And most of the eggs were sold here, at the front door. 'Twas only the excess went t'the wholesalers. And that, of course, makes a big difference.' Dot placed her cup of tea on the table, manoeuvred herself back into her chair, and then
noticed the uncomprehending faces around the table. ‘See, if you sell the eggs yourself you can charge double what the wholesalers'll pay. Because naturally they need t'make
their
profit. So if
you
sell the majority of the eggs, then your profits jump. Understand?'

‘Of course! How –'

‘Shhh!' Chris shook her head at Zoe and turned back to Dot. ‘But if it's that simple, then why did Mac stop doing it? Why does he just sell to the wholesalers now?'

‘Ah, that's where the time thing comes in.' Dot took a sip of tea. ‘See, if you sell at the door, then you need t'be home most of the time. And you also need t'do a lot more paperwork. And you have t'be sociable. But
he
didn't want to be. He's not that good at the sociable stuff. It's as simple as that. So about fifteen years ago, when he lost his partner, he decided t'just sell the lot to the wholesalers and let them deal with the whole merchandising side of things.'

‘It seems too good to be true,' said Chris slowly. ‘Too easy.'

‘Oh, it's not easy.' Dot shook her head ruefully. ‘There's extra work with processing, and paperwork. And people
do
like t'chat. No, it's not easy. But it pays well.'

‘And that's what counts.' Zoe turned to her mother and regarded her through narrow eyes. ‘So – what do you say, Mum? Now you've got no excuse to give up.'

‘I
wasn't
giving up,' said Chris crossly, as she tried to take this all in. After coming to the reluctant decision that the
only
way was to sell, it was rather difficult to accept that there was, in fact, a chance that the farm could be made viable.

‘There used t'be a cooler on the veranda,' continued Dot, fishing a handkerchief out of her pocket and using it – to his horror – to wipe down Michael's face. ‘An upright one, like a cupboard. And most of the egg cartons'd be put in there each
day. Unless it was stinking hot, then they stayed inside. Then there was a money jar out there and it just got emptied a couple of times a day.'

‘Didn't the eggs get stolen?' asked Zoe curiously. ‘Or the money?'

‘Goodness, no.' Dot looked amazed at the thought. Then she turned back to Chris. ‘And once you've increased the income, you'll be able to hire someone to help out in the busy times.'

Michael looked at his sister excitedly. ‘And then we could still have lunch!'

‘We'll do flyers on the computer!' Zoe leant forward eagerly. ‘To advertise it and get it all running again!'

‘I'll tell all my friends!' added Michael.

‘And we can do a leaflet drop!'

‘You can rely on me as well, of course.' Dot finished off her tea and then levered herself out of the chair once more and took the empty cup over to the sink. ‘I'll do what I can. You've only t'ask.'

‘But why?' Chris looked at her curiously. ‘I mean, you hardly know us. I don't want to be rude, but why are
you
so keen for us to stay?'

‘Well, for starters I like you all. You're a nice family. But also because if you put this place up for sale, the developers'll make you an offer you can't refuse.' Dot gazed out of the window at the deepening dusk. ‘And I don't want t'see it all razed. With little boxes put up like across the road.'

‘If that was likely, why didn't they make an offer when Mac had it on the market?'

‘They did.' Dot turned to face them again. ‘But I wasn't worried then. I knew
he
wouldn't do that t'me. But I wouldn't blame you if you did. That'd be different.'

‘I see,' said Chris, who really didn't.

‘So how about it, Mum?' Zoe looked at her with anticipation.

‘C'mon!' Michael jumped up. ‘Please let us stay, Mum!
Please
!'

‘Well . . .' Chris couldn't quite understand why she wasn't more pleased about this unexpected lifeline. She should have been tingling with a mixture of relief and excitement. It was almost as if she actually hadn't
wanted
an alternative to selling. And suddenly she realised that was exactly it. The fact was, because she had felt out of her depth since the moment she arrived, she had grabbed at the necessity to resell as a way in which to extricate herself from an uncomfortable situation. In other words, she had opted for the easy way out. And recognising this made her feel even worse.

‘Well?' asked Zoe impatiently.

‘Well . . .' Chris, with a sinking feeling, looked at the expectant faces. ‘I suppose it can't hurt to try it.'

‘Fan
tastic
!'

‘Yippee! We're staying!'