Hello from the Gillespies (7 page)

When Angela and Nick first married, he gave her a puppy as a combination wedding present and welcome-to-station-life present. It was a black-and-white collie with different-coloured eyes, one blue, one brown. All day it followed her around. Every time she turned around, it was there. At night it whimpered until she came to it. It whimpered during the day too, if she didn’t give it enough attention.

Having Lindy at home again was unfortunately reminding Angela of that dog.

Especially at the moment, when it was Ig who needed her attention. Angela had been surprised at how quickly he was allowed home, only three days after the surgery, but the doctor was relaxed. ‘You’ll be amazed how soon he’ll spring back, thanks to you,’ he said. ‘The old finger-in-the-freezer-bag trick never fails.’ Ig would have to wear a finger splint and a sling for six weeks, have his dressings changed regularly and start physio down the track. It could all be done locally. For now, it was business as usual. She’d looked in on him just a few minutes before. He was in his room, working one-handed on a jigsaw. He’d glanced up, shaken his hair out of his eyes – she still hadn’t got around to getting his hair cut – and smiled. ‘All okay, Ig?’ she’d asked. ‘No worries, Mum,’ he’d said. As she’d walked away, she heard him talk out loud. Not to her. To Robbie. But that was a worry for another day.

Not for the first time, she was thankful she’d made the decision to host her station-stay visitors only from March to November. There was enough going on without extra guests to look after. But she would still be getting enquiries via email. She always made a point of replying to them all within a day or two. That hadn’t been possible this week. She hadn’t been near a computer since the night of Ig’s accident, and hadn’t had the opportunity since she’d come home, either. When Nick wasn’t on it, Lindy was. The one time it had been free, the satellite connection had been down. It was a regular occurrence up here, one she had long grown used to. The phone line often dropped out too. They weren’t completely isolated, of course. All their vehicles were fitted with UHF radios, the main transmitter in the kitchen, but it was an open line, not one that Angela liked to use to conduct private business.

She’d get to her emails as soon as she could. For now, she was doing her best to keep up with Lindy’s litany of woes. Had Lindy always been this needy? Angela had probably been too busy to notice. She knew she should make the time to sit Lindy down, have a heart-to-heart, give her the space and support she needed to feel comfortable and confident enough to share all her worries in one fell swoop. But there never seemed to be time. The day before, Angela had promised herself she’d give Lindy all the attention she needed once the party was over and the twins had left.

Except now the twins weren’t going anywhere.

They’d delivered their bombshell news the previous evening. Nick had been away, checking the boundary fences with Johnny, their now only part-time stockman. One of the local Adnyamathanha people, he had worked with Nick for more than twenty years. Angela was in the kitchen when Genevieve rang to say she and Victoria wanted her to skype them. Ig set up the computer. The video part never worked, but she could clearly hear their voices. Ig told them about his damaged finger, describing the accident in gory detail, then went to his room.

Angela heard the twins’ news alone. Genevieve had lost her job in spectacular fashion. She now had no choice, she announced cheerily. She was coming home for good.

‘It’s like fate, isn’t it, Victoria?’ she said to her twin. ‘The universe telling us to spend more time together.’

Victoria joined in. It was all brilliant news, in her opinion. As usual, the two of them talked as one, finishing each other’s sentences. They were, of course, sorry to land all this on Angela on top of Ig’s accident, and the big party, and Christmas, but they’d both made some life-changing decisions. They’d decided the time was right for them to come and live on the station again —

‘Just for a while —’

‘Until we work out our next step —’

‘Until we save some money —’

‘If that’s okay with you, Mum?’ Victoria asked.

‘And if you or Dad don’t mind loaning us some money,’ Genevieve added. ‘Quite a lot of money, actually. Just to cover our debts. We’ll pay back every cent, though.’

‘We promise,’ Victoria said.

‘Of course that’s okay,’Angela said. ‘Of course. I can’t wait to see you.’

And of course she meant it. They were her daughters. This was their home. But how much money? Would she and Nick have enough themselves to cover the twins’ debts? And what did ‘just for a while’ mean? A month? Six months? A year?

Angela also broke the news of Celia’s extended visit to them.

‘She’s staying for a
month
?’ Victoria said. ‘Mum, no! Quick, build a moat!’

‘Don’t be rude,’ Angela said automatically. ‘She’s family. Your father’s only aunt.’

‘Only by marriage,’ Genevieve said. ‘Does that even count?’

‘Why don’t her own kids ever have her for Christmas?’ Victoria asked.

Genevieve answered. ‘Because they emigrated as soon as they found out she doesn’t like flying.’

Angela had a suspicion she was right. Celia’s two sons had left Australia years earlier. One lived in France, the other in Singapore. They only rarely came home with their wives and children.

‘Can’t you tell her we need some family time?’ Genevieve asked.

‘We never get you to ourselves any more,’ Victoria said.

‘We haven’t in years. Not since you had Lindy, let alone Ig —’

‘
Please,
Mum. And will you please pick us up at the airport? Just you. Your long-lost daughters —’

‘Your prodigal daughters —’

‘Coming home at last. If anyone needs you, it’s us.’

Angela had been alternating between laughing and telling them off when the line dropped out. Minutes afterwards, Nick had arrived home with Johnny, with the news that Johnny was staying for dinner and the night. The men went straight out onto the back verandah after they’d eaten. They were still out there talking when she went to bed. She still hadn’t had a chance to tell Nick the twins’ news. It was the pattern of their lives now. Ships that passed in the night and day.

She wished she could have rung Joan to talk about all of this. But Joan and her husband had been away on a week-long cruise with their two daughters and their families. She wasn’t due back home until later today.

Lindy, however, knew all about the twins. She’d known for days, it transpired, but Genevieve had sworn her to secrecy. All morning she’d been following Angela around, asking questions and expressing opinions.

‘I think Genevieve sounded too cheery about losing her job. You don’t suppose she’s on drugs, do you? That makes you immune to real emotion, doesn’t it? I talked to her for nearly an hour about it and she didn’t sound upset at all.’

‘For an hour? Lindy, please don’t make long overseas calls without asking. You know how expensive they are.’

‘I needed to talk to her about something else too. Something urgent.’ She paused. ‘About Christmas.’

Lindy was lying. Whatever else she had phoned her sister about, it wasn’t Christmas.

For the next hour, Lindy followed her mother back and forth from the laundry to the washing line, handing over pegs, still asking questions.

‘So where will they sleep?’

‘In their old rooms.’

‘But Genevieve’s room is your ironing room.’

‘I guess it won’t be any more.’

‘But how can Victoria afford to take time off? I thought you said she wasn’t getting a payout from the radio station.’

‘She isn’t.’

‘Genevieve wouldn’t have got one either, would she? Isn’t it irresponsible of her to waste money on an international airfare? Shouldn’t she cash that in and stay there and look for work?’

Oh, shush, Angela thought as they walked back to the line with another basket. You ran home the second you got into financial trouble, didn’t you?

Lindy stopped. ‘Mum!’

‘What?’

‘Did you really mean that? About me running home?’

Angela blinked. She’d certainly thought it, yes, but had she said it out loud too? By the look on Lindy’s face, yes, she had.

‘I was joking,’ she said.

‘It didn’t sound like you were joking.’

‘I was. Pass me another peg, would you?’

They finally finished the washing. The clothes line that stretched from the side verandah right across to the fence was now filled with sheets, pillowcases and tea towels. The wind was hot and gusty. Everything would be dry within an hour.

As they walked back inside the cool house, Lindy looked at her mother.

‘You’ve got very sharp-tongued lately, Mum, if you don’t mind me saying. You’re not pregnant again, are you?’

Angela gave a sudden, high-pitched laugh.

‘That’s why I rang Genevieve the other day, you know,’ Lindy said. ‘To talk about you.’

In the kitchen, Angela filled the kettle, talking over her shoulder. ‘That must have been a dull conversation.’

‘I had to talk to someone, Mum. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you really have been a bit, I don’t know, different lately. Weird. Distracted. I’ve been worried about you.’

‘You didn’t think you could just talk to me about it?’

‘No. I thought you’d get cross. Like you are now.’

‘I’m not cross. So, which of my current symptoms did you and Genevieve discuss?’

Lindy counted them off on her fingers. ‘How you’re preoccupied all the time. Talking to yourself a lot. How you and Dad are funny with each other. How you’ve got that sudden new hobby, the pottery, when you’ve never done anything like that before. You’ve been ringing Joan even more than usual too.’

‘And what did Genevieve say?’

‘She just changed the subject back to her being sacked.’ Lindy sat down and sighed again. ‘Life’s not fair, is it? Look at me. I’m nearly thirty years old. I don’t have a career. I don’t have a boyfriend. I know Genevieve and Victoria are in a mess now, but at least they’ve had a taste of success. I haven’t even had that. I ruin everything I touch, don’t I? No matter what I do, it never works out. All that cushion stuff outside, the money I owe you and Dad —’

Here we go again, Angela thought. Blah, blah, blah.

‘
Mum!
’

She’d said that aloud too? ‘Lindy, of course you’re not a failure. Everyone goes through ups and downs. As you said, look at the twins. Roosters one day, feather dusters the next.’

‘That’s not very nice either.’

‘How about you go and check your website? Maybe you’ve had an order this morning. Wouldn’t that be great? You could get started on that.’

‘I can’t. Dad’s back on the computer again. Shall I tell him to give me a turn? Tell him you insisted?’

‘Good idea. You do that.’

Standing at the linen cupboard in the hallway, Angela heard Lindy ask to use the computer. Nick was midway through watching an online history documentary but she could have five minutes, he said. But she needed ten, Lindy said. Angela wanted to go in, turn off the computer and send them both to their rooms.

She closed her eyes instead and imagined herself far from here. It only took a moment.

She wasn’t on a sheep station in South Australia, in the middle of a hot summer, listening to a family row. She was in London. In springtime. On a deckchair in her London garden with Will walking towards her, smiling, carrying a tray of iced tea.

‘Here you are, darling,’ he said. ‘It’s so good to see you taking a break. You’ve worked so hard lately.’

She took the drink, had a sip and smiled gratefully at him. ‘That tastes wonderful, darling, thank you. What’s in it?’

‘I couldn’t possibly say. It’s my secret recipe. But I may have accidentally added a touch of gin.’

‘Gin? At this time of day?’

There was a whisper beside her. ‘Mum?’

She kept her eyes shut. ‘Yes, Ig.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, thanks, Ig.’

‘Have you started sleeping standing up? Like a horse?’

She’d just smiled and pulled Ig into a hug when Lindy came running out of the office.

‘I’ve got an order! I’ve got an order!’

Fifteen minutes later, Lindy and Ig were on their way across the yard towards the stack of crates behind the woolshed. They’d come to an agreement. If he helped her dismantle the crates, she’d let him build a cubby out of all the smaller cardboard boxes her cushion material was stored in.

Lindy’s mood had changed completely. An actual order! This could be the start of her brand new career! It was a simple order too, wishing someone well after an operation. The customer had requested specific colours (purple and green) and a brief message (
Get Well Soon!
).

Ig helped Lindy as she untied the tarpaulin covering the sixteen crates. It hadn’t rained in weeks, but the covering helped keep the dust off. Everything on the station – the fences, the sheds, the homestead – was often covered in a fine layer of red dust this time of year.

Lindy checked through the order again. She’d need a blank cushion cover. Cushion filler. Purple and green thread for the cross-stitching of the letters and the decorative border. She’d ordered those colours, hadn’t she? Yes. She’d ordered every available colour. She untied the last of the tarpaulin ropes.

‘Ready, Ig?’

‘Ready.’

They both tugged. The tarpaulin fell in a shimmer of plastic onto the dirt. The crates, each of them filled with boxes, reared above them like giant Lego blocks. Lindy got a sick feeling in her stomach.

Ig leapt up onto the first crate, still nimble despite his arm being in a sling. Fifteen minutes later, they were surrounded by cardboard boxes and Lindy had all the material she needed.

‘All yours, Ig. Happy cubby-making. I’ll be on the verandah sewing if anyone’s looking for me.’

‘They won’t be. It’s just you and me and Mum and Dad here. We all know where everybody is.’

‘It’s just a saying, Ig. I’m going to work. I, Lindy Gillespie, am Going Back to Work.’

Ig watched her go, talking to herself. What was it with girls and sisters and mothers? They seemed to do so much talking and crying about things. Even his dad was at it these days, talking to his new friend Carol in Ireland all the time.