Outback Sunset (14 page)

‘They do sometimes.’ He took a sip of whisky. ‘We’ve known Fabian for a long time — he’s been Amaroo’s accountant for ten years.’

‘I see. So you got things sorted out?’

He pulled a face, more of a grimace, as he moved restlessly on the sofa. ‘Some things, yes, others, no.’

‘Such as?’

Bren’s features tightened into a scowl. He threw her a dark look. ‘What’s with the third degree,
Vanessa? I’ve said before, it’s nothing for you to worry about.’

‘So you say, but I am worried.’ She stared straight at him, her eyes locking with his. ‘I can’t help it. I thought our marriage was a partnership — in every way. I don’t hold back on matters that concern my career, such as contracts and acting opportunities — they’ll always come second to us. You are not reciprocating.’ When he didn’t dispute what she’d said, she went on, ‘I don’t like being shut out.’

Bren stared at her for twenty seconds or so then looked away. ‘It’s complicated.’ He stopped, swirled the ice cubes around in his glass and listened to them clink against its sides. ‘Vanessa, I don’t want you to worry … You’re right though, something has happened but Curtis and I will get it sorted. It’s just that …’

He stopped again and when he didn’t continue she prompted him. ‘What, Bren?’

‘Look,’ his voice rose half a decibel, ‘for God’s sake, let it be. Just trust me.’ Restless, he stood and began to pace about the room.

Stung by his tone and his attitude, Vanessa’s chin lifted, her hot Spanish-inherited blood heating up. ‘It isn’t a matter of trust, it’s … you’re making me feel like an outsider. As if I’m a guest at Amaroo, that I don’t really belong.’

Bren’s head shook in denial. ‘That’s crazy talk, Vanessa. You’re my wife, of course you belong here.’

Her expressive features, trained by her craft to show emotion, disputed his comment. ‘Look, I don’t know if I can help but it’s just that you don’t appear
to have enough confidence in me to talk about the problem. That’s what really hurts.’

‘I don’t want to argue over this …’ He stood, walked towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘It isn’t that important.’

She didn’t agree. Having observed the situation silently, for weeks, seeing him become more morose and less the ‘Bren’ she knew, she had a different opinion.

‘Is that so?’ her hands went to her hips aggressively. ‘It’s important enough for your accountant to visit you. It’s important enough for you and Curtis to walk around with grim expressions and shaking your heads as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It’s important enough to embark on belt-tightening strategies and to put off workers.’ Her voice rose in tune with her temper. ‘Do you think I’m stupid, that I haven’t noticed? Or is it that you think Amaroo’s problem is too complicated for someone like me to understand?’

‘Geez,’ Bren backed away. He sat down again in response to her anger. He remembered something her agent had hinted at, that being half Spanish she had a temper but, apart from the altercation with Curtis, months ago, he hadn’t been exposed to it. That she was mad made her look more fiery and beautiful than she normally was, and … so utterly desirable that what he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and forget the problem he had, to kiss away her anger and to make passionate love with her.

‘God, Vanessa,’ he back-pedalled, ‘I-I didn’t think you felt so intensely about it. Curtis and I, well, I guess we misjudged your level of interest.’ He tried a
boyish smile, its intention to calm her down. ‘I haven’t been thinking clearly for weeks.’

Unimpressed, and doubly so after he said he and Curtis had talked about her — probably discussed tactics — brought the tart retort, ‘I have noticed.’

The gleam of battle was still in her eyes and, fatalistically, he knew that she wasn’t going to be fobbed off with excuses. He also saw that she was at the end of her patience towards him being miserable. And that she cared so much was a pleasing revelation! She was astonishing, more than he’d expected, more than he could have hoped for. Hardly a day went by without him acknowledging his good fortune and now she was proving herself even more.

‘I care about you, Bren. I care about Amaroo too. I know I haven’t been here long and I can’t explain it well, but the land, everything here has kind of gotten into my blood.’

‘All right.’ He patted a space next to him. She joined him on the sofa. His shoulders slumped forward, his head went down and he couldn’t look at her. ‘I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of running Amaroo.’ He stopped her before she had the chance to deny that. ‘When Dad was alive, I didn’t have to worry about things, didn’t have to be responsible. That was his job and until about twelve months before his death he ran the property well.’ He shifted with discomfort. ‘Life here has always been relatively easy. I did what Dad told me to do and everything was fine. Now I have to make decisions that affect the welfare of the station and the people here. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes.’

‘Oh, Bren.’ His confession dissolved her anger. Her arms went around him and she disguised the fact that his admission shocked her more than she cared to admit. He was like a small boy in need of reassurance, and far removed from the confident man she thought she had married.

‘You’re too hard on yourself,’ she soothed, ‘Amaroo is a big concern. I know that. You’re in a competitive business in a harsh, uncompromising climate. Running this property successfully would test the resolve of nine out of ten men.’

He turned his head, his expression one of enlightenment. ‘You’re right, hon. You’ve tapped into that already and you’re a relative newcomer.’

‘Tell me about the problem. Maybe I can help. If I can’t at least you’ll know that I have some understanding of what’s wrong, and I’ll stop pestering you about not knowing,’ she said gently as she stroked his brown hair.

‘Okay. As I said, it’s complicated. The provisions in Dad’s will — bequests to Mum, Curtis and Lauren — drained Amaroo’s capital reserves. I wasn’t worried about that because Dad had invested strongly in international shares — a teak plantation in Malaysia — and the share value was going up. I intended to sell when the shares reached a unit price of $2.20 and recoup enough to tide the property over till a percentage of stock is sold for export.’ He stared into her eyes. ‘About six weeks ago, the bottom fell out of the Asian teak market and the shares, worth $2.91 are now worth 27 cents and the price is still falling! I had Fabian increase our overdraft with the bank — we’re going to be in the
red until we sell more stock — but the bank manager,’ he curled his lip in disgust, ‘is playing hard ball. There’s a small mortgage on Amaroo and they want a portion paid back, or more surety, before they’ll increase the overdraft. I don’t have anything else to pledge and we won’t have an appreciable injection of funds till the muster after the wet.’

‘Can’t you get an extension?’

‘I’ve had one extension. That’s why Fabian came. The bank’s putting the screws on him and there isn’t enough in our working accounts to appease them.’ He shook his head. ‘Bloody, bloodsuckers, that’s what our banks are.’

‘What about Curtis and Lauren? They received sizeable inheritances. Can’t they lend you what you need in the short term?’

He grunted. ‘They would if they could. Unfortunately, they put what they had — Curtis got screwed by Georgia for a chunk of his inheritance — into buying Cadogan’s Run. They also had to borrow which means they don’t have sufficient equity in the place to help me out.’

Vanessa hesitated for a second or two. ‘Your mother?’

‘No way,’ his tone was adamant. ‘I’d never live it down. You only met Mum briefly, but I imagine you formed an opinion as to what she’s like. It was hard to get her to leave Amaroo, so Curtis and I could run the place the way we think best. If I borrow from her she’ll want to come back to continue her rule.’ He glanced meaningfully in her direction. ‘Would you like to share Amaroo with her?’

Vanessa grinned in spite of the seriousness of things. ‘That would be … difficult.’

‘I love her, but you bet it would!’ he said with feeling, ‘My Uncle Stuart has offered to loan me what I need but Curtis is against that.’

She didn’t often agree with Curtis, but she did in this respect. Something about Stuart Selby caused her to have a niggle of discomfort when she thought about him. She hardly knew him, yet she — like Curtis — was loath to trust him when it came to his financial generosity. Some inner sense told her that it would come with provisions more beneficial to Stuart than to Amaroo.

‘I agree with Curtis. It isn’t a good idea to borrow from your uncle.’ Then she had an inspired thought, but first she had to know … ‘How much do you need?’

‘Initially, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and in six months another similar amount. Stock sales should cover the second payment though.’

‘I could realise that and more by selling my cottage at Bourton on the Water.’ Her tone was contemplative and, smiling at his profile she added gently, ‘It’s yours, my darling.’

A tense silence pervaded the room for maybe twenty seconds, then Bren moved away from her and stood up. ‘No bloody way!’ Frustration and pride caused his temper to snap. ‘I won’t sponge off you. God, your agent would love that. I saw the look in Kerri’s eyes when we first met. She thought I was after what money you might have.’

‘But it would only be a short-term thing, surely …’

‘No, thanks. I do have some pride. I’ll find a way of getting what I need but not from you.’ With that comment resonating throughout the room, he strode down the hall and out of sight.

Wide-eyed with shock, Vanessa stared at the sofa and at the whisky glass on the coffee table. Then tears began to prick at her eyes. Had she been wrong to offer what she had? No. A small flame of anger began to burn inside her. What was the matter with Bren? Why couldn’t he accept that her offer was sincerely meant, intended to benefit him and Amaroo? Was it pride or was it something else? For the life of her she didn’t know and … didn’t understand. But she knew one thing, now was not the time to be faint-hearted or passive. Amaroo meant a good deal to her — she thought of it as her home. This was where she wanted to live and one day to raise a family with Bren. Her lips thinned with growing anger.

So, she’d be damned if she’d sit back meekly and not do her utmost to correct the property’s financial bind. Flicking her hair back angrily, she clicked her fingers for Sandy to follow her, but … where had Bren gone?

She wandered through the house. In their bedroom? He wasn’t in the en suite or the bathroom, nor the kitchen. She stepped through the kitchen doorway onto the back verandah and saw that the lights were on in Curtis’s cottage. Had he gone to his brother for what … solace? Understanding?

Steaming at his pigheadedness, for she was certain that’s what it came down to, and with Sandy trailing behind, she marched towards the cottage,
up to the front door and knocked. Within seconds the door opened wide.

‘Vanessa.’ Curtis wasn’t quick enough to hide his surprise. Both were aware that she’d never knocked on his door before.

She began without a polite preamble. ‘Is Bren here? I need to talk to him.’

‘He’s in the kitchen making coffee.’ Curtis stood aside for her to enter the cottage. ‘Do you want one? A coffee?’ he asked belatedly.

‘No, thank you.’ Her tone was sharp and for the moment she forgot that her anger was directed at Bren, not Curtis. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Almost reluctantly, as she moved further into the room, she took a curious look around and found the cottage’s interior a pleasant surprise.

The living room was surprisingly cool. Two walls were cement rendered, and on one a variety of Aboriginal artifacts hung on wooden pegs. The second wall housed a timber bookcase almost completely full of books of all sizes and shapes. The two remaining walls were of hand-hewn natural stone. Near an oval dinner table stood a cabinet with an interesting array of Aboriginal artifacts, she discovered that as she moved closer to inspect it. Through an open doorway she caught a glimpse of a modern kitchen, not large like the one in the homestead, but adequate, and the floor of both rooms was made from huge, time-smoothed red sandstone blocks. A colourful scatter rug in reds and browns, in front of a sofa, softened the living-room floor’s rugged appearance.

‘I didn’t know you were a reader,’ surprise made her say as she gazed at the bookcase.

Curtis’s forehead puckered in a frown. Clearly he was confused as to why she was here. He watched her studying the books, she trailed a hand along one of the rows.

‘Sometimes I find it hard to sleep,’ he found himself admitting. ‘Curling up with a book helps me to relax. My grandfather, Robert, was a learned man, an inveterate reader. Being the second son of a moderately well-off country squire, with few inheritance entitlements, he came to Australia with his wife to seek a better life. The ship they were on foundered just off Darwin. After they were rescued and instead of travelling on to Brisbane, their original destination, he and my grandmother forged west from Darwin with a group of immigrants thirsty for land. That’s how he came upon Amaroo.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘The late 1920s. Dad was born here in 1935.’

‘How did he accumulate so many books?’

‘Over the years, most came from England but when Mum had the new house designed, she chose not to waste space on a library. As I got older, went to uni and stuff, I took the books out of the storage shed where they were deteriorating due to the weather — the humidity plays havoc with old paper and the glue, you know.’ He paused then went on. ‘The temperature in here is fairly constant because the walls are thick and the windows small. They survive better here.’ He stopped speaking as Bren came into the living room with two mugs of coffee.

Not good at disguising his feelings, Bren’s discomfort at his wife following him to Curtis’s was obvious. It made Vanessa remember how angry she was. She watched him hand Curtis a mug of coffee, after which he stared disconsolately at her but didn’t say a word.

‘That discussion we were having isn’t over, Bren,’ Vanessa began, ‘so unless you intend to saddle a horse and ride off into the night to avoid me, we are going to settle the matter now.’