Family Farm (18 page)

There was a garden around the house now and it looked well kept, with even a bit of lawn out the side. It was quite formal in design with agapanthus and irises in neat little rows. Further out bottlebrushes and other native trees were scattered about, acting as a native hedge. Will’s ute, she noticed, was in the old rickety garage that was off to the left-hand side. At least he’s home, she thought.

Carefully, she walked up the bumpy path made out of red and cream paddock rocks. A few weeds sprouted up through the sand in between. Tom, as always, was right behind her. The old wooden verandah creaked slightly under her boots. She was about to knock on the flywire door when Will beat her to it, opening it from the other side. He stood barefoot, wearing blue football shorts and a black shearing singlet.

‘Hiya, Will,’ she said softly.

‘Izzy!’ he said, looking shocked. ‘I never thought I’d see you here.’ He tilted his head slightly to one side as if trying to read her thoughts, before stepping back so she could pass. ‘Well, you’d better come in before you change your mind,’ he said with a wave of his arm. He thought he noticed a change in her, especially her eyes. They seemed to have lost their daggers. Now he could somehow see so much more of Izzy, and he liked the softness.

‘I just got back from Perth. I went to see Dad,’ she said, following him along the passageway to the kitchen. Izzy noticed the floors still had the same outdated, flowery brown carpet from years ago.

‘Grab a seat. You want a beer?’ Will asked as he opened the newish fridge.

Nodding her head, she eagerly replied, ‘Would love one, thanks.’ Actually, she reckoned she could do with half a dozen. She saw the open
Elders
paper on the table and drew it closer.

‘I was just reading it before you pulled up. Not much in it.’

He grabbed two stubbie holders from one of the new cupboards on the wall and slid the stubbies into them before handing one to Izzy.

‘Cheers, Will.’

Avoiding his eyes, she scanned the room. The kitchen looked great. Really different from what she remembered. There were the new cupboards, and a large archway had been cut through the wall so it opened up into the lounge room. She loved the restored timber floorboards, which went well with the cupboards and soft blue walls.

‘The place looks great, Will. Did you do it yourself?’ she asked, breaking the silence between them.

‘Yeah. Mum puts her two bob’s worth in every now and then, of course. But I’m getting there slowly. All the main rooms are done.’

‘I see you finally got rid of the burn marks,’ she chuckled, looking at the old fireplace at the other end of the dining room.

‘Yeah … I’m surprised you remember that,’ he said, laughing.

‘Oh, I haven’t forgotten it, Will,’ she replied. ‘Claire got busted big time, something about endangering not only herself but me as well. God, I felt
so
bad,’ Izzy said, lowering her head as if deep in thought.

They sat there, opposite each other, in total silence except for the soft ticking of a large round clock that hung from the wall behind her. Izzy was playing with the label on her beer when she finally spoke, determined to say sorry properly.

‘Will … I came to apologise for the other night … and the clearing sale … and every other time I was horrible. I haven’t been very fair on you.’ Izzy’s cheeks burned. ‘I was only thinking of myself.’ Will started to shrug it off but she continued. ‘No, hear me out. The other night … it just took me by surprise – the baby and all that – and I didn’t stop to think how hard it must have been for you too. Dad made me realise that I wasn’t the only one hurting. Will, I’m really sorry,’ she finished.

Reaching across the large wooden table, she put her hand over his. He had endured so much pain, and put up with so much from her as well. ‘I’ve been really awful to you, and I feel like crap for how I’ve acted towards you over the last few weeks … few years.’ His hand beneath hers was warm and sent a tingle up her arm.

Will’s eyes sparkled as he watched her intently. Rubbing her fingers with his thumb, he replied, ‘Thanks, Izzy. I appreciate it, but you have nothing to be sorry for. I totally understand. She was your sister. And you didn’t know the truth.’

Izzy reclined on her chair, her hand now back on her beer, insistent on peeling the label.

‘That’s it?’ She shook her head in disbelief. Somehow, she’d been expecting more fireworks.

‘There’s nothing to forgive, kiddo. You wouldn’t have been like that if you’d known the truth,’ Will said. ‘Well, at least I hope not, anyway.’ He raised his eyebrows, teasing.

Izzy just smirked at him and shook her head. She liked the way he’d started calling her kiddo. She wasn’t sure why, but it sounded nice when he said it. ‘Who knows?’ She looked down into the gold liquid and chewed her lower lip. ‘I just can’t believe Claire didn’t tell me something so huge. We never kept secrets from each other,’ she said quietly, a sadness creeping into her voice.

Noticing her distress, Will bent across, leaning his elbows on the table, and tried to explain. ‘Izzy, she wanted to tell you, I know she did. She was just so scared at first of what everyone would think, including me. It took her a while to even come to me about it, and then we had to figure out what we were going to do.’ He took a swig of his beer, thinking back to one of the most difficult times in his life, in a year he’d never forget. ‘We were so scared about telling your folks. I thought your dad was going to string me up and skin me alive.’

‘Oh, I can just imagine. He would have gone off like a madman.’ Izzy’s hair swished around her shoulders as she shook her head at the thought of it.

‘He was mad at first. He couldn’t speak for a while, but surprisingly he got over it really quickly. Turned out, he was happy that we were going to try and make a go of it.’

‘I just wish I hadn’t been at boarding school while most of this was happening, and I would have loved to have seen more of Claire. I missed out on so much with her, and then she was gone, and I can never get back that time.’ Izzy gazed down into her beer once more.

Will looked Izzy straight on with his piercing blue eyes. ‘She missed you like mad, you know, when you weren’t there. She used to come and hassle me and I’d never get any work done. She was always going on about you and what mischief you’d been up to. Claire was so proud of you, Izzy. She said you were smart and that you could do anything. Claire reckoned she had no drive in life, that there was nothing she felt passionate about. Whereas you, she said, had your future mapped out. Claire did like to live by the seat of her pants. She never planned from one day to the next.’ He chuckled at the memory. ‘You know, a couple of days before she died I found some little yellow baby boots that used to be mine which Mum had stashed away. So I gave them to Claire and she absolutely loved them. It just made it all so real for us. And as scared as we were, it was a nice thought. It was something to look forward to – being parents. We may not have loved each other like that, but we thought it might come once the baby was born. And if it didn’t – well, it still wouldn’t have changed how much we’d have loved the baby.’ Will’s voice was deep with emotion.

‘At Claire’s funeral I put the yellow boots in there with her … for the baby. It was your mum’s idea.’ Will’s eyes began misting up as he spoke and his voice faltered just a fraction.

Izzy swallowed hard. It was moving to see a man wearing so much raw emotion on his sleeve. There weren’t many farmers who were good at talking about their feelings or sensitive issues. They all had a strong image to uphold: they were men on the land – the providers and protectors.

‘I can remember you doing that, now I think of it. I asked Mum about it but she said she didn’t know that’s what you’d planned to do. God, I remember thinking you had no right to be there. From that day on, I took some of my anger and grief out on you … well, maybe all of it. I blamed you for Claire’s death, because the last time I had seen her she was so miserable, and I knew that had something to do with you.’ She paused, carried away by her memories. ‘She would have made a great mum.’ Izzy sought out Will’s eyes. ‘You would have made a wonderful dad too, and I imagine you still will, some day.’ Not wanting to get too serious, she added, ‘That’s if you can find a woman mad enough to take you on!’

‘Oh, if I get that desperate, I can always look you up as a last resort.’ He was teasing her but her tender words went to a special place in his heart.

The last of the afternoon sun was glowing through the kitchen window and reaching the corner of the table where they sat.

‘Did you want to stay for dinner?’ Will asked. ‘No point us both eating alone.’ He stood up, went to the fridge and peered into it without waiting for her answer.

‘Why? Are you gonna cook?’ asked Izzy, placing a hand on her hip.

Without moving his head from within the fridge he shot back, ‘I
can
cook, you know.’ He began sifting through the contents of his half-empty fridge. ‘So, what do you feel like? Steak and eggs, steak and chips, or maybe just beer and chips?’

She burst out laughing and moved towards the fridge to see what else was in there. ‘It all sounds good. Here, I think you have enough salad stuff for me to whip something up,’ she said, grabbing the produce from the fridge and laying it out on the kitchen bench.

‘I’ll just go and light the barbecue. Hopefully there’s enough gas.’ With that, Will walked out to the back of the house with a scraper, a pair of tongs, and a roll of paper towel.

Fifteen minutes later, they sat down at the table with their meals ready to eat, and a fresh beer in their stubbie holders.

‘Salad looks great, kiddo,’ Will said as he filled his plate.

‘You didn’t do too bad yourself. The steak is great, not burnt like my old man likes it,’ she said, pouring tomato sauce all over her meat.

‘Speaking of your dad, how’s he going?’ Will asked.

‘He’s coming along pretty well, considering. His grafts have taken really well and the physio lady is turning up soon to help get him back into shape.’ Izzy’s eyebrows knotted together as she prepared to interrogate him about Gumlea. ‘He filled me in on a few things, though. Apparently, you’re running the farm for him?’ Izzy turned her head to the side slightly and gave him a questioning look.

Will sat up straight. ‘Ah … yeah, I was supposed to mention that.’ He shrugged. ‘But you seemed to be doing okay by yourself.’

‘If only Dad could see it that way. Anyway, he gave me a long list of stuff I’m supposed to give you.’

‘So, I’m not going to see that list, am I?’ said Will with a cheeky grin. He was beginning to understand Izzy.

‘Nope.’ She smiled back. ‘If I can do it all by myself, then he might just realise that this is what I’m meant to be doing. Eventually he’s gotta let me help him run the family farm, hasn’t he?’ she questioned.

Will had a puzzled look on his face.

‘What’s that look for?’ Izzy asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s just I’ve never met a chick who’s been so interested in farming or as passionate about it as you, let alone one who’s any good at it. Not even Claire was that interested. But you’re different. You’re not afraid of slugging your guts out, and you’re always trying to prove yourself. Most girls just wouldn’t be into anything that would break a nail.’

Izzy came across as a tomboy – she liked being outside and getting dirty – but the way she’d looked at the bin party had left Will thinking she was anything but. Claire would never have been seen dead in a dress. But Izzy was different – she just shone out like canola in a field of wheat. She was different from anyone he’d met – she intrigued him.

‘Why thanks. I think I’ll take that as a compliment.’ His comments meant a lot. They would have meant twice as much coming from her father.

‘You’re definitely not Claire’s annoying kid sister any longer. You just keep surprising me, Izzy. It’s made me realise how much I don’t know about you, and that everything I assumed was wrong.’

‘Well, I went away and learnt all this stuff, which will be bloody useless if Dad has his way. He just doesn’t understand it, but working this land is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. Since Claire’s death he’s built a huge brick wall with me on one side and him and our farm on the other. I mean, he has to come around sooner or later, and if he doesn’t … well, maybe I’ll simply have to face facts and work for someone else.’ Izzy breathed a huge sigh. The problem had given her many headaches and sleepless nights over the past few years.

‘We’ll always have work for you, if your old man won’t budge. That would piss him off no end, working right next door, hey,’ Will said. His smile revealed his perfect white teeth.

‘Oh, I’m sure Dad would just love that.’

‘I’ve already spoken to my dad and he agrees that if you ever needed work, we’d put you on.’

Wow, he’s been talking about me, she thought, genuinely surprised at this news.

Will winked. ‘Then you could stay here with me.’

‘Oh, and cramp your style? I don’t think so,’ she replied with a mouth full of steak. There was a bit of sauce on her top lip, which she managed to lick off eventually. ‘The work sounds good, but my first priority is working at home, even if I have to send the old man kicking and screaming into a retirement home to do it.’

‘Remind me never to cross your path,’ Will said jokingly, before taking another swig of his beer. ‘So, what’s the go tomorrow? You’d better keep me informed of what you’re up to in case Bill rings to see how things are going.’

‘Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea. Well, tomorrow I’ve got to feed the sheep and organise the shearing team to come in some time in the next couple of weeks. Then there’s a fence on the northern boundary that needs fixing. What are you doing tomorrow?’ Izzy asked, while finishing her last mouthful.

‘Not much. Dad’s taking the day off but he’s asked me to move some sheep. It shouldn’t take long. I know Bill’s been trying to get to that fence for ages. I was going to do it for him but he wouldn’t hear of it.’ Will pushed his chair back, stood up, collected their empty plates, and carried them off to the nearby sink. ‘Your old man sure is stubborn. He’s relaxed a bit over the last year, letting me help out more and now entrusting the farm to me … well, you, I guess, but he doesn’t know that.’