Riverboat Point (22 page)

She stared out at the river drifting by. Why was it she had never felt the slightest bit lonely living by herself in the city and yet out here she felt it keenly?

She took out her phone. No messages, no missed calls. No-one but Jaxon cared if she lived or died, and apparently even he had given up on her. It was only ten-thirty on Tuesday morning and a long lonely week loomed ahead.

Tuesday morning! Savannah sat up. Mandy's smiling face jumped into her head. The exercise group met at eleven on Tuesdays. A few days ago it had been the last thing Savannah felt like doing, but now the idea almost appealed to her. She wrapped the bundle of linen in one sheet and threw it over her shoulder. Jaxon had left instructions about a linen service she had to connect with in town. She locked up the boat and made her way back to the shack. As she went she had a sudden idea of where she'd seen Mandy's name before.

Voices echoed from the little hall. There were only two cars out the front but from the noise there had to be several people inside. Savannah stuck her head in the door. Four women in assorted versions of exercise attire stood in a huddle chatting excitedly. There was a pram beside one of them and a couple of toddlers played with toys on a mat in the back corner.

Savannah turned at the sound of footsteps crunching behind her.

“You came,” Mandy's voice squeaked with excitement. “I'm so glad. The others will be thrilled as well. Come on in.”

Savannah followed her into the hall. The old building had seen better days. The paint was flaking on the walls and a couple of windows were cracked, but the wooden floor felt solid enough under her feet. She put her bag of gym equipment and her foam roller at her feet.

“Hi, everyone,” Mandy called.

The group stopped talking and turned to say hello.

“Savannah's here. Isn't that great? Now we'll have some proper exercises.”

The four women were effusive in their welcome. As the last one turned to face her, Savannah could see from the bulge of her belly that she was pregnant. She found herself mentally adapting exercises and they hadn't even begun.

“Do you mind if we play music?” the pregnant one asked.

Had she said her name was Rosie? They'd all spoken at once.

“Music is good,” Savannah said.

“Crank it up, Rosie,” Mandy said.

“Not too loud,” one of the older women said.

“Oh come on, Bet. We need it loud enough to hide the sound of our creaking bones,” her companion said and poked her in the ribs.

Rosie's choice of music floated around the hall and the women all looked expectantly at Savannah.

“Let's make a circle and do some stretches,” she said.

“Stretches,” Bet said. “Now there's a good idea.”

The others chuckled. Savannah looked at Mandy who'd taken the spot on her left.

“I made up our sessions from ideas I found in a magazine. They didn't mention stretches. You set us straight.”

Savannah breathed in a deep breath to steady her nerves.

All five women did the same.

Oh dear, she thought. All eyes waited for her next move.

“Turn your head to the right, ladies,” she said. “Hold it there, now back to the left.”

After each stretch the next one popped into her head and the women dutifully followed her lead. She'd panicked on the drive into town worrying she wouldn't remember. It was one thing to follow your own exercise routine, quite another to lead a group, all eyes on you waiting for your next instruction. The women were like sponges, absorbing everything she said and trying their best.

The toddlers came and climbed on Mandy and Rosie as soon as they lay on their mats. Savannah got them going with some leg raises and sit-ups alongside their mothers. She brought out her weights, stretch straps and foam roller to add interest to the routines but mostly she stuck to exercises that didn't need equipment. An hour went by in a flash.

“That was great,” Rosie said.

“I can tell I'll be sore tomorrow,” Bet said.

“Do a few stretches,” Savannah said. “Keep yourself limbered up.”

“Will you come again on Thursday?” Mandy asked.

Once again all the women stared at her.

“Why not?” she said. “It's been fun.”

“See you then,” Rosie said. “I've got a doctor's appointment. Can you lock up, Mandy?”

“Sure.”

The other women left as Savannah packed up her gear.

“That really was a great work-out,” Mandy said. “Thanks, Savannah.”

“My pleasure,” she said and found that she meant it.

“I hope you're happy with two dollars each.” Mandy pressed a bag of coins into Savannah's hand.

“Oh … no, you didn't have to …”

“Of course we did. The others are more than happy to pay. It's not much.”

“It's plenty.” Savannah felt terrible taking their money. “I haven't led a class for years. I'm a bit rusty.”

“You were great,” Mandy said. “And I can't wait till Thursday.”

“You've done some cleaning for my brother, haven't you?”

“A while back now. Things were a bit quiet before he left.”

“I saw your name on his list of contacts. Would you still be interested?”

“Sure. He usually wanted me after I'd finished at the pub. Do you need help?”

“Not yet. I really don't know how much longer I'll be here. It's just nice to know there's help if I need it.”

“You've got my number,” Mandy said.

Savannah loaded her gear into her car and waved as Mandy drove away. Now what? She wasn't ready to go back to the quietness of the shack yet. Then she remembered the linen in the boot. She drove to the supermarket. There were a few items she needed to buy and she could ask after Jaxon's mail.

Faye was talking to an old bloke at the counter. Savannah remembered him from her first trip to the supermarket. She grabbed her few things and was back at the counter quickly. The two of them kept talking.

“I thought things were on the up, Terry,” Faye said. “The new chap at the garage – what's his name, Mark something? He seems very nice.”

“He's not much of a mechanic. He had a tractor in pieces and he didn't seem to know which bit went where when I was in there.”

“Whose tractor?”

“Warners'.”

“It's probably a hundred years old,” Faye chuckled.

“He's bitten off more than he can chew, I reckon. He's plenty to keep him busy with tyres and petrol and the like. Not enough time to work on vehicles.”

“It certainly won't be any good if we can't get our cars serviced,” Faye said. “Let's give him time to settle in. Anyway Terry, I'd better get on.”

“I don't know who's going to work on my old car now that Bert's left,” Terry said. He picked up his biscuits and paper, gave Faye a nod and made his way out of the shop.

“How are you today?” Faye asked as she scanned Savannah's items.

“Fine thanks. I've got a boot load of linen. Jaxon left instructions to bring it here for collection.”

“That's right. The fellow comes through twice a week. Takes the linen from Captain's Houseboats as well. Drive round to the shed at the side, Jamie will unload it for you.”

“It seems a waste. I could wash all this stuff myself.”

Faye chortled. “Not if you want your sheets to stay white.”

“Oh?”

“River water will turn them brown.” Faye stacked her shopping. “I hear you've been taking a fitness class.”

Savannah gave her a sideways look.

“Bet called in on her way home.” Faye gave a chuckle. “She was hobbling a bit but very pleased with herself. Good on you. Mandy's been trying to get a fitness group going for ages. They're all delighted you've taken it on.”

“They'll have to be quick learners,” Savannah said. “As soon as Jaxon returns I'll have to go back to the city.”

“That's a shame. You're fitting in so well here.”

Savannah picked up her groceries and the newspaper.

“I'll see you Thursday if not before,” Faye said.

“Thursday?”

“For your next fitness class. I'm going to come along.”

Savannah grinned. Mandy was certainly right about everyone knowing your business.

Dust hung in the air filled with the noise of bleating sheep. Ethan brushed at the flies that hovered under the brim of his Akubra and adjusted his sunglasses. The mob he'd brought down the track from the nearby paddock lifted their heads at the sound of other sheep and quickened their steps. They gave him no grief going through the gate. When the last one was through he moved his bike forward and stopped next to the opening. Hundreds of sheep packed the holding pens. He closed the gate and rode around to the other side of the shearing shed. It was time for afternoon smoko.

Not that he was in a hurry for it. After their initial job allocation meeting yesterday morning he'd managed to avoid his father. It was for the best. Mal was tetchy at shearing time and Ethan felt as taut as the newly strung fence. Sleep had eluded him for the last two nights. He could function without it but it was the why that bothered him.

He'd been up at five-thirty to take Jasper for a walk, had a quick breakfast and set off to be at his parents' farm for a seven-thirty start. The shearers were just checking their shears as he'd arrived. His job was to bring in the sheep and return them to their paddocks after they'd been shorn. Luckily Blake's accident had happened at the end of mustering. The sheep were in the paddocks close to the shearing shed. All Ethan had to do was bring the next mob up as they were needed. It had taken him half the day yesterday to get back into the swing of it. He hadn't helped with shearing for a long time.

Inside the shed were three shearers, a wool classer, two rouseabouts and Mal who was in charge of packing the wool, weighing it and labelling it. When Ethan wasn't shifting sheep he was general dogsbody. He could do any of the jobs in the shed except the shearing and classing.

He pulled alongside Jenny's car. One of his father's dogs was resting nearby. It lifted its head, eager for a pat. He obliged then climbed over the rail of the yard to where Blake was working alongside Jenny. She was squirting the cuts on the newly shorn sheep to prevent infection and he was administering the lice spray. Then, between the two of them, they painted the station brand on the rump of each sheep. Jenny had got the hang of it very quickly. It was something Blake could do without moving about too much, although Ethan wondered how much longer he would last.

It was a warm day with hardly a cloud in the sky. By the end of it the shearers would be glad of a shower and the hot meal Barb would prepare for them before they tumbled into bed in their quarters a short distance from the shed. The other helpers all lived within driving distance. Ethan could have stayed with Blake or even his parents but he had Jasper back at home. He had plenty of space under the house but he needed exercise and company.

The sound of the shearing had stopped. Everyone inside the shed would be eating. Ethan waited for Jenny and Blake to finish the last few sheep. Jenny climbed the fence with ease, Blake took the long way round to use the gate. They headed for the side door of the shearing shed, where Barb's afternoon smoko would be set out in boxes beside the urn and the mugs.

“What do you think of shearing, Jenny?” Ethan asked.

They walked slowly, waiting for Blake to catch up. His brother's injured leg was slowing him up considerably.

“I had no idea of the work involved.”

“Bit different from trauma nursing.”

“Yes, but just as demanding.” Jenny leaned closer. “Blake's had enough but he won't admit it. He's been standing for two days. Apart from being exhausted I'm sure his injuries will be giving him pain.”

“He won't listen to me.”

“Nor me.”

“What are you two whispering about?”

Blake had caught up with them as they stopped at the end of the shed to wash their hands. Sixties music played in the background. The shearers' choice of radio station was the only music in the shed.

“I was warning Jenny about how pig-headed you are,” Ethan said.

Jenny turned and flicked some water from her hands at Blake.

“And I was saying I'd already worked that out.”

Barb came out of the shed. Her old floppy hat was as faded as her once rich brown hair. She had a smile for the three of them. Barb had mellowed. Ethan was comfortable around his mother these days.

“There you are,” she said. “Don't want you to miss out on my jelly cakes.”

“You're kidding,” Jenny groaned. “Are they pink?”

“Of course.” Barb threw an arm around Jenny and drew her inside. They looked an odd couple: Jenny tall and lean in tight-fitting shirt and jeans, Barb short and solid in her trademark loose shirt and beads. “You two'd better hurry up,” she called over her shoulder. “They'll all be gone.”

“We'll be right there,” Blake answered but he put a restraining hand on Ethan's arm. Once the women were out of sight he leaned against the wall of the shed and pushed back his hat.

“Jenny's going back to Adelaide tomorrow.”

Ethan studied his brother's pale face. His fringe was wet with sweat and although the bruise on his cheek had faded there were dark shadows under his eyes.

“Do you think you can hold the fort tomorrow if I don't get here till lunchtime?” Blake asked.

“Maybe.”

Ethan wasn't sure how. He hadn't perfected being in two places at once. So long as he and one of the other rouseabouts worked things out between them, they'd manage.

“Jenny's not leaving until mid-morning,” Blake said. “I'd like to see her off.”

“Okay I'll do it, but I have conditions.”

Blake's eyes darkened.