The Sunnyvale Girls (6 page)

TONI
adjusted her numb bum on Contractor's back but the discomfort didn't disappear. Flick's words about Jimmy had shocked Toni more than she realised. Did Flick really not see a problem with Toni dating Jimmy? Why had it seemed such a natural assumption for her? That was so typical of Flick's attitude – if you want something, just go for it. Easy for her to say, when she'd got everything she ever wanted. A dog, her horse, coming back to the farm. Toni had never got anything she'd wanted, besides Felicity.

Toni had joined clubs, played hockey and tennis – she'd even tried golf just to get out there in the hope of meeting a future husband. Living in a small country town with fewer than a hundred people made finding someone you wanted to spend your life with all but impossible. After all, married men and women and children made up most of that population.

Once she'd had Felicity she'd struggled to keep looking. There had been the odd night here and there but nothing that was going to be everlasting. Farming and a child had kept her exhausted and then she'd just felt too old. Who would want a weathered, manly woman like her? She'd been happy enough on her own, hadn't she? Until Jimmy had slotted into their life. If only she could have found him years ago.

‘Mum, looks like Jimmy's had trouble.'

Toni followed Flick's gaze to the shed, across from the sheep yards where the ute was still parked, the boom spray connected behind it. Jimmy was leaning over the green-painted frame near the blob dobber tank, his snug blue singlet not leaving much to the imagination. Toni couldn't look away – the arm that was holding the weight of his body was so tightly shaped with muscles. She could see them continue across his back.

‘Pretty hot, hey?' said Flick, causing Toni to blink finally.

‘What?'

‘Jimmy. He's got a hot bod for an old dude. I saw you checking him out.'

Toni felt the burning flush crawl across her face and quickly tilted her hat so Flick couldn't see. ‘I was just trying to see what was wrong,' she said.

‘Sure,' said Flick with a chuckle before she moved Contractor towards the sheep.

Toni reminded herself that this was exactly why she couldn't go out in public with Jimmy. She had to stay here on the farm where she was reminded that it was about the job. Who knew what she'd do after a few drinks and a bit of fun? The poor guy was a great worker; she couldn't put him through that. She doubted he'd appreciate his older boss trying to crack onto him. After four years of working so well together, she couldn't do anything to jeopardise his happiness here. She'd rather work alongside Jimmy as friends than not have him in their lives at all.

‘You'd better go see if he needs a hand, Mum. I got this.'

Toni slid off Contractor and headed towards the shed. ‘What's up?' she asked.

He didn't turn around, as if he'd already sensed she was there. ‘The bloody blob dobber isn't spitting out right. I adjusted it – let's see if this helps.' He started the motor and turned to watch the end of the folded-up boom where the white foam was dripping. The foam thickened and big bubbles dropped out like massive marshmallows.

‘Now you've got it,' said Toni.

Jimmy turned off the motor and then wiped his big hands across his work jeans. His eyes ran the length of Toni's body and for a moment she felt exposed in her black singlet, her shirt tied around her waist.

‘Aren't you missing something?' he said.

Toni stared at him blankly.

‘The motorbike?' Jimmy smiled. ‘It's a Honda, about this high, two wheels and usually has Fella on the back?'

God, of course.
‘Oh, yeah. It died.' She pulled the spark plug out of her jeans. ‘I'd better go clean it up.' Quickly she headed into the workshop in search of the wire brush.

She was leaning over the bench, scrubbing the plug when the hair on her neck prickled. Jimmy stood right behind her and she could almost feel his presence on her skin.

‘If that wire brush won't fix it, I think there's a new plug over by the ute parts in the cupboard,' he said.

Toni shivered but she focused on her job, despite the wire brush digging into her fingers every now and then.

Jimmy leant over, covering her hand in his. He was reaching for the spark plug but the contact was electric.

‘Let me see.' He tugged it from her grasp and inspected it.

Toni tried to slow her breathing so the manly scent of sweat and soap didn't make her hyperventilate.

‘It's still got some life left in it yet.' He handed it back. ‘I'll drop you back at the bike if you like.' He paused and shifted some tools on the bench. ‘Um, so how are you going?'

‘Okay,' she said, her jaw tightening until her teeth ached.

‘It was quite a bombshell Maggie dropped. If you want someone to talk to, I'm here,' he offered.

‘Thanks, but I'm fine,' she said too quickly. She turned to leave but he grabbed her arm.

‘Maggie's very upset,' he said.

Toni shook his hand away. ‘So am I,' she said, before walking out of the shed. ‘And don't worry about the lift. I'll walk.'

When all the sheep were in, the shearing shed set up and the rest of the day's work was done, Toni and Flick headed home. While Flick sorted out Contractor, Toni went and grabbed the first shower while avoiding her mum. Maggie had a roast cooking and the smell permeated the house, causing blowflies to hover by the back door. Roast was her favourite dinner but she wasn't falling for that old trick.

After showering, Toni opened her bedroom window. The Doctor had blown in, fluttering her thin blue curtains. The cold shower had been just what she'd needed. Her skin felt alive as she slathered it with moisturiser. Toni couldn't take back the damage the sun had done to her skin over the years from the outside work but she tried to keep it soft at least. Being lean kept the skin taut, so long as she didn't lose all that muscle.

Reaching into her cupboard for her usual trackpants and singlet, Toni paused. Should she wear something a little more summery? She considered a little cotton dress. If she wore that, would everyone wonder why? Would they think she was trying to impress Jimmy? Maybe she just wanted to feel a little bit feminine for a change. And besides, she had only worn it once. The moths would probably get to it if she didn't actually use it.

The soft white cotton and thin straps were casual enough, especially with the little drop of material to the top of her knees. With this bodice she wouldn't have to wear a bra either, making it extra comfortable to lounge around in after work. Okay, she was sold. She tugged the straps off the hanger and slipped the dress on over her head, then stepped towards the mirror. She didn't even notice the dress; what she saw was her brown eyes. So different from Maggie's blue ones, and now that she thought about it, they weren't like Arthur's either. His had been hazel with an almost green tinge. But hers were deep chocolate-brown. She moved closer to the mirror, her face inches from her reflection as she studied the intricacies of her eyes. The truth had been looking back at her, her whole life.

Stepping back with determination, Toni pulled out her bag and threw in a few sets of clothes. She needed more time away from Maggie. Tonight she'd sleep in the shearing quarters in her swag.

‘Toni, can we talk?' Maggie peered around the door.

‘Not now.' She walked past Maggie, stopping at the office to pick up the swag before walking out of the house with her bag.

‘Toni, wait. Where are you going? I have dinner ready.'

‘I'm not hungry.' She let the door bang shut and marched to the shearing quarters. She set herself up in the end room, leaving a room between her and Jimmy. With a bit of luck, he wouldn't even notice she'd moved in.

But she needed a drink. Heading back to the house, she grabbed a beer from the outside fridge. The afternoon was starting to cool and from the verandah Toni could see towards the west paddock where the sun was setting. Flick was walking back towards the house and Contractor was in his yard watching her leave, his body silhouetted by the golden sun.

‘You look nice, Mum. I like that dress. Have you changed your mind about coming with us?' Flick stepped onto the verandah and helped herself to a beer.

‘No.' Toni hoped Flick just left it. She couldn't handle any more talk today.

Flick chewed on her lip. ‘Fair enough. Well, I'd better go and have a shower.' Flick kicked off her boots and took her beer inside.

Toni breathed a sigh of relief and thought about walking back towards the quarters. She didn't really want to go back there but didn't want to stay by the house either. She was starving but there was no way was she going to sit across the table from her mother. Maybe after Maggie had gone to bed she'd sneak in for some food, or raid Jimmy's two-minute noodle stash.

The sun was setting in vivid orange, swirling into reds and yellows. The rush of wind brought with it an amazing scent. Toni closed her eyes, trying to breathe it in, and it only took a moment to realise why it touched her so.

His footfall should have alerted her earlier but she'd been distracted by the sunset.

‘Beautiful afternoon.' Jimmy was in clean stonewash jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower. He looked good. ‘You got a hot date?' he asked as his eyes trailed the length of her body.

‘No. Any more hassles with the spraying?'

‘Nope, all done.' His eyes wandered back down to her dress while his tongue darted across his bottom lip. ‘Are you coming with us?'

‘No.'

‘Hmm, what a shame. I'm almost tempted to stay, with all that's happened, but Flick wants to stick to routine, said she needs a drink. I think this news has messed with her too, more than anyone realises.'

‘Yeah, I forgot that she hides her emotions well.' Toni felt awful. In her own chaos, she hadn't really thought of the effect on Flick. Her daughter was such a tough person, who put others first. ‘Thanks for being there for her, Jimmy. She really looks up to you.' Toni took a big drink of her beer, hoping it would relax the tightness swelling in her throat.

‘It's no problem. She's a great girl, keeps me on my toes,' he said with a smile. ‘Is she ready?'

‘Just having a shower. Go grab a beer and head inside, dinner's ready. I think I spotted a pavlova too.' It was her favourite.

‘What?' He slammed the fridge shut and spun around, beer in hand. Jimmy linked his arm in hers and practically dragged her back to the house. ‘You trying to get me to stay home?' he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Toni nearly tripped over her feet. ‘No.'
God, what made him say that?

Jimmy strode inside. Toni didn't want to follow, but he wasn't letting her go. They found Flick doing up the buttons on her shirt while her damp hair dripped down her back. She was looking at a photo album open on the table in the dining room.

‘Did Maggie make a pav?' Jimmy demanded.

Flick glanced up and frowned. ‘I don't know, I just got out the shower. Nan's in the kitchen plating up.'

Toni let out her breath. Mum was busy. Good. Toni glanced over Flick's shoulder. ‘What are you looking at?'

‘This was open at the old photos. God, it was so different back in those days,' said Flick.

‘Oh.' Toni had seen these black and white photos before. Only now they had a completely different meaning.

Flick pointed to a black and white photo. ‘That's Phyllis and John Fuller out the front of the old cottage. Amazing what they had to live in back then. Are they hessian bags, Mum?' She indicated a room that was built on the side of the cottage. It looked so rustic against the wooden slats of the main cottage.

‘Yes. Mum said that room had a tin roof but they had sewn the hessian and made a wall with it. Apparently a great spot when summer was at its hottest. They could wet the hessian and the breeze would make it cool.'

‘And these are the Italian prisoners, right? Which one was Rocco?' asked Flick.

Toni's fingers caressed the edge of the photo. Two men stood by two big gum trees, guns in their hands and a massive kangaroo propped up between them. Her focus was on the photo of the man in boots, pants, and a dark V-neck jumper over his collared shirt, the long barrel of the gun pointing to the ground. She studied Rocco, but it was so hard to get a clear picture of him in the blurry image.

Without colour she couldn't really see his eyes. But looking at him now brought out a whole new feeling. This was her real dad. And she was half Italian.

‘He's handsome. No wonder Nan fell for him,' said Flick.

It was then that Toni noticed how worn the edge of this particular photo was. As if someone had been back to look at it many, many times over.

‘
HAVE
you got the cake?' Phyllis was by the stove putting the tea into the beer bottles.

‘Yes, Mother. A big slice each.' Maggie had wrapped them in butter paper and then again in newspaper.

‘Just don't let the paper fly away —'

‘I know, it will scare the horses. I'll be careful. It's not that windy outside.' Sometimes her mother talked to her as if she were still eight instead of sixteen. Maggie put the cake into the small wooden crate. Phyllis finished corking the bottles and put them in too, along with four cups.

‘Don't be down there too long. They need to get back to work and I'll need you here to clean up and get ready for dinner. Charlie got an emu so that will be a nice change from rabbit and roo.'

Maggie tried not to screw up her face. Emu wasn't her favourite. Picking up the crate she headed outside and started walking to where the men were working in the new paddock. It had only been a week since the Italians had arrived, but already they had done so much. Last night she had overheard her father telling her mother that hiring the Italians was the best thing he'd done. Not that Phyllis would ever agree. She was far too worried about what the locals thought, but John had reminded her that they weren't the only ones who needed the help of the prisoners.

Since their arrival John and Charlie had gone to some funny extremes to explain things to them – seeing her father impersonate a kangaroo and emu had been a highlight. Phyllis, of course, would never stoop to that, and just spoke normally as if they could understand every word she said.

Maggie felt sorry for them. They'd been thrust upon a completely different land, with no family or friends, and treated like they were dangerous. Maggie often wondered if Thomas had been captured and was feeling the same way. It was this thought that often had her wanting to give Rocco and Giulio a hug, just to make them feel less alone. Giulio and Rocco often sat alone together after work, speaking in hushed Italian. Sometimes she heard them singing a song. She didn't understand the lyrics but it sounded sad and haunting, as if they were singing about their loved ones back home.

It was easy to like them both. They worked hard, were quiet and polite, kept to themselves and cared for their horses. She couldn't imagine them wanting to hurt anyone. She'd overhead Rocco having a huge conversation with Contractor in Italian; someone with a cruel heart would not offer so much affection and graciousness. Rocco and Giulio seemed so thankful just to be here and not in the prison camp. She could tell by the way they gazed out across the land, were ready and waiting for work each morning and followed her father as if he were their idol.

It took Maggie nearly twenty minutes to walk to where they were working. The rocks and roots were stacked in neat piles, and she was amazed at how quickly the four of them worked. Rocco and Giulio were wearing their short-sleeved shirts tucked into their pants, which were held up with belts. Sweat stained their shirts and glistened on their skin. She'd much rather look at them than at the stern face of her mother.

‘Afternoon smoko. Ease up, lads,' said John when he saw Maggie. He put the rock he was holding onto the cart, waited for the others to load up their rocks and then he led Splinter and Winks over to the tree line at the edge of the paddock.

Maggie headed to the spot where they liked to stop. Cut logs were already set up in the shade. She put down the crate, opened the cake up and got the tea out.

‘Hello, thank you,' said Rocco as he took a cup she handed him. ‘Tea good.'

‘Yes, the tea is good,' said Maggie. She often repeated words to show how they should be pronounced. ‘Cake?' she asked, nodding to it.

Charlie had already helped himself to a piece. ‘Chocolate cake.'

Giulio waited until John had taken a piece before helping himself. ‘Shocolat cak,' he said, trying the new words.

‘Chocolate cake,' said Maggie, sounding it out carefully. Both Giulio and Rocco repeated it until she nodded that they had it.

Then she laughed as they ate some and groaned in pleasure.

‘Groans mean the same thing in any language,' said Charlie with a chuckle.

Then her father and Giulio put down their cups and rolled cigarettes. Maggie was used to the smell of tobacco, but walked over to Winks and Splinter, the two Clydesdales harnessed to the cart, and let the men smoke in peace. She rubbed the horses' noses and talked to them softly. One had to admire the thick legs and solid powerful bodies of this breed. They were worlds apart from Contractor.

John got up first, emptying the dregs from his cup and putting it back in the crate, and the others followed suit. Maggie collected the crate and the empty tea bottles.

‘Thanks, little sister,' said Charlie, before following their father to the horses.

‘Thank you, Miss Margaret,' said Giulio. His words were spoken clearly and confidently.

Rocco stepped up to her and Maggie felt a tingle of joy at his closeness.

‘
Grazie
, Margaret,' he said with a smile.

‘
Grazie
? Is “thank you”?' she asked. Rocco nodded and so she took the cup he held out and tried the new word again. ‘
Grazie
, Rocco.'

His whole face lit up and at that moment, Maggie decided that she would try to learn a bit of their language too. Why should they be the ones to make all the effort to fit in? Besides, his Italian sounded so wonderful. In the early mornings when she went out to collect sticks for the fire she could hear them talking in Italian. She would often pause by their shed, wondering what they were saying. She'd never heard anything like it before.

‘Goodbye.' Maggie turned and began to walk back to the cottage, her mother's instructions at the forefront of her mind. But it didn't stop her from glancing back to watch the men at work, especially Rocco with his strong arms and back.

She turned, before she was caught watching, and saw a Chevy ute driving towards her.

‘Margaret!'

Arthur was leaning out the side, waving madly. The ute stopped.

‘Hello, Margaret,' said Arthur's father.

‘Afternoon, Mr Stewart. Are you here to see Father?'

‘Yes, just need to talk about some farm business.' Mr Stewart nodded to the men working in the paddock. ‘How are the Italians working out?'

‘Really good, Mr Stewart. As you can see, this paddock is nearly done. They're hard workers,' she said, a little proudly. She could only imagine what the rest of the town was thinking about them. Hopefully Mr Stewart would report good things.

‘Good to hear.'

Arthur got out of the ute. ‘I'll walk up in a minute,' he said to his father.

Mr Stewart smiled and nodded his goodbye before driving off.

Arthur stood beside her, braces holding up his pants. He just didn't fill them like Rocco. They flapped about his legs like ship sails on skinny masts.

‘I can't talk long. Mother needs me,' she said.

‘I understand. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right with the prisoners?'

Maggie tried not to wince. On their farm they were not prisoners, just hired workers. At least, that's how she liked to think of them.

‘Everything is going fine,' she said brightly.

They watched Mr Stewart get out to talk to John. Rocco glanced their way as he put another rock on the cart. Maggie felt funny under his gaze. Would he think she was with Arthur? Why did that bother her?

‘Are they kind to you?' asked Arthur.

Maggie continued to watch the men, holding the crate against her chest. ‘Yes, they are. I'm trying to help them with their English,' she said with a smile.

‘Do you think that's wise?' he said, causing her smile to vanish.

Maggie realised Arthur didn't mean anything harsh by his words; he was just being cautious and overprotective – unlike her mother, who would have only been worried what the community thought.

‘It's fine, Arthur. I need to go so I don't upset mother. Goodbye.'

Arthur looked crestfallen. ‘Goodbye, Margaret.'

She could feel him watching her as she began walking home. This time she didn't look back.

At the cottage, her mother had her doing the washing, helping to cook dinner and darning Charlie's socks. Maggie had been happy for the chores, which passed the day quickly. Soon enough the men arrived from work, washed and came in for dinner.

The table arrangements on their first night here had caused mother no end of grief. Where to sit the Italians so they weren't near her, or at the head of the table, or anywhere near Maggie? Phyllis had eventually decided that father and Charlie would sit at either end of the table, with the women on one side and the prisoners on the other. Maggie actually liked the new seating arrangements, as Rocco was right in her line of sight. She tried not to smile as she laid out the bone-handled cutlery on the table along with the Rosella tomato sauce and salt. When they all ate together, it was like it used to be with her whole family, as if Tommy and George were still home. Except that Rocco was more handsome than her brothers.

Phyllis handed Maggie a plate with sliced bread on it, which she placed on the table as the men came in. With all six of them in the one room, it was really cosy. Rocco and Giulio waited until John and Charlie sat down before pulling out their own wooden chairs.

Maggie helped pass out the bowls of emu stew. Everyone waited until she and Phyllis sat down before lifting their forks to eat. Maggie waited to see what the men thought about dinner before she started. Rocco squinted an eye as he swallowed. It was much the same as her own reaction to her mother's emu stew. Giulio had eaten a few mouthfuls when her father spoke up.

‘You like? It's emu,' he said slowly.

Both Italians froze. By now they were well aware of the word emu.

Giulio's face contorted. He sprang from the table and rushed outside while holding a hand over his mouth.

‘I know how he feels,' mumbled Maggie while John and Charlie were laughing. Phyllis gave them cold stares.

‘It's not that bad, is it, Rocco?' asked Charlie.

Rocco's dark eyebrows moved as he frowned. ‘Is good. Food India, not much.' He shook his head.

Maggie forgot the food on her fork as she watched Rocco. ‘India? You were in India?'

‘
Si.
Long time. No food.' His lovely tanned skin paled by the candlelight.

Maggie could see the pain dancing across his deep brown eyes. What had they endured there?

Everyone was silent. Rocco's admission had changed the mood and filled the atmosphere with discomfort. Luckily Giulio came back in.

‘
Mi dispiace, mi dispiace
,' he kept repeating.

‘He say sorry,' said Rocco.

John waved it away. ‘Don't worry, Giulio. Sit, sit. Eat the bread.' He picked up the plate and Giulio gratefully took a slice, his shoulders relaxing after seeing the smile on John's face.

Maggie turned back to Rocco, ‘So “sorry” is
mi dispiace
?'

Giulio and Rocco both looked at her with surprised expressions. Giulio said something to Rocco in Italian.

‘
Si, si
.' Rocco agreed, and smiled at Maggie. ‘Giulio say good. You good.'

‘What is the point, Margaret?' huffed her mother. ‘I don't think you should humour them. They need to adapt to us.'

‘Maybe Maggie might visit Italy one day,' said Charlie.

‘I might,' she said. Giulio and Rocco went back to eating. She could tell the family was talking too fast for them. ‘I like the challenge. It's something new, and like Father always says, new things keep the mind ticking over.'

John grinned at Maggie, then turned to Phyllis. ‘It's not hurting anyone. Let her at least help them learn.'

Maggie didn't dare glance at her mother but when Phyllis didn't contradict her father, she did let the breath she was holding escape slowly.

‘Oh, guess what we found out today?' John said to Phyllis. ‘Rocco tells me that Giulio is a mason. His father was a good one and he learnt from him.'

Phyllis stared at John blankly.

‘He can build us a new house. A real one, with bricks.'

‘Are you joking with me, Mr Fuller?' said Phyllis. She dabbed her lips with the worn napkin on her lap.

Maggie knew her mother dreamt of a nice home. This bit of news would be a delight. Hopefully it would ease her disdain for the Italians.

‘I assure you I am not joking. Maybe tomorrow we can find the spot you'd like your new house to be.' John was grinning, waiting for Phyllis to understand what he was actually telling her.

Phyllis dropped her napkin and clasped her hands together. ‘Oh, John.'

‘So you'd better draw up some plans soon so we can give them to Giulio,' said Charlie.

Phyllis was looking at John like he'd built it already, when in fact it was Giulio who'd be doing all the work.

‘Charlie can have a real room instead of the sleep-out,' said Phyllis. ‘Oh, this is wonderful news.'

Maggie shifted her feet under the table and accidentally touched someone's foot. She looked straight up at Rocco, who was smiling at her. She was embarrassed and excited at the same time, and couldn't help the heat crawling towards her face. Maggie hung her head towards her bowl. Luckily her mother was too busy talking about plans for the new house. Hopefully this would keep her in a good mood for a long time.

Maggie refused to look up again in case she saw Rocco watching her. Instead she quickly got up, started collecting the empty dishes, and took them to the tin dish on the side table to wash up. That way no one could see her face, as she was sure it would be bright red.