Foal's Bread (31 page)

So that's what Dad must've meant, Lainey thought. About Mum. In all the years, she'd never really seen her mother dance. On account of her father's legs her mother had always had to be On Slow.

George was into some high-jinks over with the smaller Levitt girls but though one part of Lainey wanted to go and join them, another part couldn't move.

The next dance was a waltz and Uncle Angus was moving her mother in a way that reminded Lainey of a kitten, pushing a pebble this way, one two three, and that, one, two, three—using only one paw. Uncle Owe sped up his fiddle and the man on the mouth organ slowed down, as if they were playing just for her mother and Uncle Angus, dancing in the nor'-east corner. She took a peek sideways at Bill and his sister Vera. Yep, they were watching her mum too.

Her gaze switched to one of the Palmenter girls sitting in the western corner looking like nothing so much as a little lonely spider. Aw, thought Lainey with a rush of sympathy. All its poor long arms and legs in a funny pale green dress with pink splotches and elastic too tight across the chest. In the opposite corner was its little sister Ursula, arms crossed so tight it might as well be that plaited tree done by Mr Harrison at the slaughter yards. Ursula Palmenter shouldn't be sitting there, thought Lainey. Not under the war memorial that held her Uncle Dunc's name. That was him in gold lettering, ten from the top: D.T. Nancarrow, her father's brother who gave his life for his country in the first war. No Palmenters up there.

Then, after a moment's solemnity, she couldn't help but feel just a little bit smug. That she was not one of them poor Palmenter girls! ‘Hey, Ursie, see me,' she wanted to call, knowing they were already watching, when Mr Cousins came and glided her round for the Pride of Erin.

‘I wish my dad would take up his bed and walk.' Lainey shut her eyes and bit into one of Aunty Ral's biscuits. All of what she had to learn now that Nin had insisted they go to Sunday School felt like it might suddenly make sense. Jesus himself was on a card she'd won in the test on the Good Samaritan. He looked a bit mealy-mouthed, a bit stoopy, underneath a cloak the colour of a little creamy cart mare that's had a good roll in the dust on a hot day. If his beard looked gnawed at by rats that was only because George had spilt milk there and since then silverfish or something had had a bit of a go. You could tell from the picture that though Jesus Christ might've been alright on a donkey he wouldn't have had much hope on a real horse if the way he was holding his reins all wrong was anything to go by.

The wish biscuit was chewier than an oaty. On the strength of her second one, she could imagine her father suddenly hopping up unassisted and lumping his bed, like it was as light as one of those Mrs Lockyer lamingtons, out of the sleepout and down the road into Wirri.

‘I wish to clear seven foot in ladies' high jump end of the month.' Noah munched down so hard she bit her tongue. Tasted blood. ‘And win. Why not?'

‘I want another sausage roll,' wished George. ‘And a cream puff.' Then, not knowing which one to eat first, glanced anxiously from hand to hand.

I wish I'd never seen what I seen in Sydney from that war, thought Reenie. The blind and maimed. Or them who'd gone mad. Wish Clarry McKinney could still dream about kissing me instead of being blown up. Lost in Egypt. No remains except the love hankie he'd sent with a note.

Back at One Tree, Roley waited until his mother had gone to bed. Only once he heard her begin to snore did he bite into his biscuit. It was only something simple he was wanting. That he could circle waltz again with his wife. Was that too much to ask? What about the Jolly Miller progressive or even the basic old barn dance? All the little tight beautiful circles going on inside the large one formed by everyone else. Moving then to take her into the quickstep. The floor fast as glass. He took another biscuit. On me own two feet. And what mightn't be possible after such a simple miracle as that?

He took another nibble at the biscuit. Kind of cinnamony. And please don't let that Angus Cousins be there. Bloody Ral for putting into everyone's head that Angus had returned the spitting image of Nelson Eddy. Bloody Angus that it was somehow true.

With painful bravery, Roley allowed himself to acknowledge how he ached to touch again the softness only he knew lay beneath his wife's tough exterior. And then, oh, for the divinity of peace that used to so easily be theirs afterwards, with her still lying all peaceful-like in his arms.

‘Here,' said Ralda, offering her tray of biscuits to the Cousinses. ‘But remember, got to make a wish you want to come true.'

What other kind of wish could there be? wondered Lainey, slurping down her cup of tea, eyes casting around. Those Levitt sisters had fairy bread, and pieces of sponge the colour of their golden hair. Behind the piano all the sleeping babies had been tucked like a little line of soldier creams. Different men stood around the open back doors, joking and smoking. Boys were careening up and down the floor but not George, who was still intent on putting in his best effort with the supper. Her brother's face looked a bit like the squashed sponge kiss in his fist.

‘And these, George!' Lainey waved a pikelet and looked around to make sure her mother wasn't going to tell them to leave some food for other people.

‘When the next set begins, Noey—' Angus was speaking quietly so only she could hear, ‘—my wish says you've got to come outside and give me a hand with something.'

Calamitous feelings rippled along Noah's belly and away. Once, long ago, when they were young, Angus Cousins had tried to kiss her. But already by then she'd had eyes only for Roley. Even so, just then when dancing with Angus it was like something in them both remembered that long-ago attempt. The feel of their mouths meeting before she'd pulled away.

‘What kind of help?'

‘Meet me at Fred Dawes's cart. Got an April Fools' joke. Going to need you to hold his horse.'

‘Can't you get someone else?'

‘Only you will do.'

‘People will wonder.'

‘Just make out you have to go to the little ladies.'

Out beyond the patterns of light thrown by the windows onto the grass, into the deeper darkness, Noah felt free in a way that hadn't been hers since before her uncle died. Uncle Nipper had loved a dance, hadn't he just?

She set down her shoes by a fence post before slipping under the railing. Where would Fred's horse and cart be? she wondered. There were more than a few tied up. Nearly as many horses as cars tonight.

‘Hey, Noey.' She heard Angus Cousins' voice close by. ‘Over here.' He was standing by a tree trunk, taking a short snort of the grog he'd stashed. ‘By jeez,' he said. ‘She's cold.'

‘Mind if I take a sip of that too? Warm me up cos cold it is.'

‘Cold as a frog's tit.'

For a man such as Angus Cousins to say such a word in that way could, Noah knew, mean only one thing.

‘Steady on,' he said, when she had a bit more than a snorter. ‘Everyone will smell it on your breath.'

‘Oh, look who's talking,' she replied, but not sarcastically. She wished he'd say it again. That word. In that way. She felt her body take a deep breath and not exhale. He had little flat ears and auburn hair with crinkles in it like nothing else ever seen. In the dark she couldn't see his freckles. When they were dancing she'd felt like a co-star. Glamorous. Even a bit dangerous.

‘Need a bit of courage,' he was explaining. ‘Going to get Fred a good one. Got some white paint in here. The idea is to paint a star on Fred's Nelly.'

‘Nelly.' Noah felt the first sweet burn of the alcohol opening up her heart. Roley's special name for her. And knew that if she followed Angus Cousins further into the darkness anything could happen. ‘Oh, you won't need me,' she said. ‘Matter of fact, I tacked a set of shoes on that mare last week. She's quiet enough. You could paint the whole of her white and she wouldn't stir. I'm getting back before anyone notices.'

When all at once he made his move to grab and kiss her, she gave him one with her elbow. Because he must've been six foot four if an inch, it hit him where it could've winded if she'd put much power in.

‘Steady on.'

‘I'm not into that,' she said, furious that her body beneath her dress was indicating exactly the opposite. ‘What kind of a slut do you think I am?' And again that knowledge in her at the sound of such a word in the pure air of April that all he'd have to do was try again and she'd be a goner. Was it true that the shrapnel went all the way down to his waist? She made to head back to the hall, hoping for his hands to stop her.

So when he just melted off into the night, Noah found herself backtracking, to lean against the tree trunk and take another pull at his stash. What was it? What did she really want? No way she could risk having even one more dance with him now though, no matter what, not with Reen's and Ral's eagle eyes open.

The rest of the night, she foresaw, would be spent just jollying along George or steering a sweaty Ralda around without bumping into people. A foxtrot with Reenie maybe, who would only get all sorrowful because Clarence McKinney she was not.

Noah swivelled round to stare over towards the horses as if all of a sudden she was going to see a big white star midway in creation. Nothing. Tipping a bit more whiskey down her throat she thought of things she'd seen on nights of it with Milda and Mad. Unimaginable things that turned into nightmares sometimes in the empty allotment between the back of the boarding house and the hotel.

Even with the church steeple just there next to the hall, even with the long-haired church cat appearing to stare her down, Noah felt herself begin to imagine certain scenes she'd like to have happen with Angus in that allotment. As if in recognition of the needs of the night, a bull from the other side of the Flagstaff began to call and moan.

From dancing with Angus, under her dress she was as tight as that last cow with milk fever. No choice but to use a bike pump to get the udder as full of air as possible and then tie up each teat.