Puppy Pie (12 page)

‘We know what Norah's like,' Doris says looking keenly at the timid woman. ‘She likes to cause a stir in the district even when there's no good reason. Must make her feel important, I suppose.' She straightens her shoulders. ‘But now, ladies, we must all support this family because if we don't, the whole district is in trouble. Our husbands, sons and daughters are out there working like dogs. If ugly rumours start, we not only hurt the Hepplewhites but we hurt our own families as well.'

‘Hear, hear. You're right,' the older women murmur. However, Gull notices the more timid women are looking down at the floor, going out of their way to avoid eye contact.

‘As I said before,' Doris repeats, ‘we'll be here tomorrow, Gull. And mind you tell Lucy that from us. She's got guts that girl,' she adds. ‘People like Norah Sprogg enjoy dominating people but that's just bullying when you come down to it.' She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, I think that's all,' she smiles as she replaces the tea towels on the rack. ‘I'd better be getting home. I've got the washing to bring in.'

One by one, the women start to pack up. By the time they leave, the kitchen is spick and span. Gull stands at the kitchen door and waves them off. As she's leaving, Doris gives Gull's shoulder a squeeze. ‘Chin up,' she smiles. ‘See you tomorrow.' Gull smiles gratefully. With a final wave, Gull runs back inside to see how Lucy is. Her cousin is sitting in one of the armchairs staring into space.

‘I know the whole story,' Shirley says quietly.

‘That horrible woman!' Gull blurts out hotly.

‘I hear Doris is rallying the troops.'

‘She's lovely,' Gull smiles. ‘And she said she'd be back tomorrow.'

‘Most of them will be,' Shirley nods. ‘But that's not what's worrying me.'

‘What then?' Gull asks.

‘Well, if a rumour starts that there's something being carried from here to the other farms, that's bad. This is a time when we need to stick together. I can't understand it myself. I mean, hemp doesn't have any natural predators.'

Just then, they hear a horn blowing at the top gate.

‘Oh, I've got to go,' Lucy says suddenly. ‘That'll be my ride back.'

‘But why did you come home?' Gull asks as Lucy stands up.

Lucy looks confused. ‘Don't know really. Got a funny feeling all of a sudden. Thought I'd come back and check on things.'

‘Now we know why.' Gull says. ‘Ugh, that woman!'

‘By the way, Lucy,' Shirley says, ‘I wouldn't mention Norah Sprogg and this little episode to Harry. He's got enough on his plate.'

‘Forgotten already,' Lucy smiles wearily. ‘Come for a ride to the top gate, Gull?' The two girls dash out the kitchen door.

‘So you just decided to come back for no reason at all?' Gull asks as they climb into the ute, reverse and charge up to the front gate. ‘Sounds like you've got Helen's gift.'

‘Nah,' Lucy shakes her head dismissively. ‘Wouldn't want it. Anyway, I'm too practical for that sort of stuff.'

‘Maybe,' Gull frowns. ‘But you never know. Helen was telling me her gift didn't come out until she was fourteen: two years older than you.' Lucy raises her eyebrows but says nothing. Together, they climb out of the ute: Lucy scrambles into the waiting truck; Gull waves and starts walking back to the farmhouse.

Soon after, Shirley takes her leave after making sure Gull is set up for the day. As much as Gull loves Shirley being around, she's more than eager to get back to her secret project. Switching on the computer, she brings up the web page she's been working on. Plugging her digital camera into the computer, she begins to run the film she took earlier that morning. So involved is Gull that she almost misses hearing Helen's next words.

Helen sighs happily, ‘It's the little things that count.'

* * *

‘One, two, three, four, five, six,' Ma recites as she sits on the windowsill of the Folly, counting her strongest mites with Useless lying contentedly underneath. ‘Where's that Cha-Cha? Still sulking, I'll be bound. Cha-Cha, where are you?'

* * *

Later that evening, Gull hears the old ute pulling up outside the kitchen door. Inside, Helen and her niece are putting out clean plates for Lucy, Tom and Jake as they slowly stagger into the kitchen.

‘How are the workers of the world tonight?' Helen asks, looking her three grubby offspring up and down.

‘Pooped,' Jake says. ‘And starving.'

Tom and Lucy nod in agreement dragging out chairs from around the table.

‘I haven't had any morning or afternoon tea in ages,' Tom frowns.

‘Because you have them both at lunchtime,' Jake laughs. ‘Look at all the food the CWA brought out to us today. Enough for an army.'

‘We are an army,' Tom mumbles, piling his bread roll high with salad, ham and cheese. ‘At least, we work like one: we do what we're told and no questions asked. Those old farmers are really hard nuts.'

Helen laughs. ‘Those old farmers,' she says, ‘had to do it all by hand. No wonder they're hard nuts.' Helen picks up the egg basket and is half-way out the door when Lucy asks, ‘Where are you going, Mum?'

‘Just finishing off the chores: if I'm going to sleep all day, the least I can do is help the workers out.' She walks out, the screen door closing behind her.

‘Now that she's gone,' Lucy whispers conspiratorially, ‘we can talk. I filled the boys in on the way home, about this morning.'

‘Yeah!' Jake says heatedly. ‘What a …'

‘That Norah Sprogg is,' Tom finishes between mouthfuls.

‘If we could find out what's really knocking over the hemp, then we could do something,' Lucy says puzzled. ‘It's like fighting a battle against an invisible enemy. We need a plan.'

‘And no more mysteries,' Jake nods as he bites into his corn and red and green capsicum quiche.

‘We've got Mum falling asleep, however hard she tries not to,' Lucy continues. ‘And we have to keep Dad from finding out. I mean, Dad's worried sick about getting the crop in. On top of that, we all know how guilty he feels about talking the other farmers into growing it: he feels so responsible.'

‘And Shirley's worried about all of us.'

Tom laughs. ‘Let's have a competition to see who can worry the most about the most number of things.'

‘Not funny,' Jake mumbles.

Tom shrugs. ‘Just trying to lighten the atmosphere.'

‘I know,' Lucy says, playfully throwing a bread roll at him. ‘I guess we're all worried. But we need to stick together and find out what's going on.'

‘How?' the other three pipe up.

‘No idea,' Lucy says, shaking her head. ‘Anyone else?'

‘Well, I looked up hemp on the website today and trawled through all the information I could find,' Gull says.

‘And?' the others ask hopefully.

‘Nothing,' she says. ‘I even e-mailed the National Farmers' Federation to see if anything like that had happened to them. That was Helen's idea.'

‘And?' three voices ask again.

‘Nothing,' Gull murmurs. ‘Sorry everybody.'

‘No, that was good thinking,' Lucy says quickly. ‘Well, now we know it's only in our area. But why?'

‘That's what we all want to know,' Jake says.

‘Well, let's think about what we can do? What do we need?'

‘More bread rolls,' Tom says, grabbing the last one.

‘Tom!' Lucy shouts.

‘What?'

‘Oh, never mind,' she says annoyed. ‘I mean like things to help: like less farms and more Harvesters.'

‘Yeah, more of those would be a big help,' Jake agrees.

‘More what?' Helen asks coming through the door, laden with eggs and vegetables. She puts them down on the kitchen sink and turns to the gang. Lucy explains what they need: more Harvesters.

‘I wonder ..,' Helen says to herself. Then she walks briskly over to the phone. ‘Why don't you grubby lot go and have a shower? Gull, could you put away the eggs and wash the vegetables? Thanks,' she nods, as she begins to dial a number.

By the time Helen hangs up, Gull has the eggs and vegetables ready for tomorrow's CWA gathering in the kitchen. Together, she and Gull descend on the now squeaky clean threesome. ‘Guess what? Good news! I've got two more Harvesters lined up,' Helen says thrilled.

‘Really?' Tom asks surprised. ‘How? When?'

‘I don't know why I didn't think of it before,' Helen replies shaking her head. ‘My two, big brothers are only a few kilometres down the road. They've just finished harvesting their wheat crop. So, they've got Harvesters that they're willing to lend us. And they're bringing them over tomorrow.'

‘Great!' they chorus.

‘Good news for a change,' Jake beams. ‘Dad'll be over the moon.'

‘That's him now,' Lucy says hearing Ted's truck in the distance. ‘Come on, let's go tell them.'

A few minutes later, looking ten years older, Harry staggers into the kitchen exhausted and falls into a chair, his arms resting on the table. They hear Ted sound the horn and drive off. Useless is in one of his favourite places, under the kitchen table.

‘Good news, Dad,' Lucy beams. Harry looks at her through bleary eyes.

‘Yeah?'

‘Yeah. You tell him, Mum,' Tom says graciously. ‘It was your idea.'

‘Well,' Helen says thrusting a mug of hot tea into Harry's hand, ‘I've just been on the phone to my brothers.' Quickly she explains her request and their answer.

Harry sighs. ‘Just in the nick of time too,' he says wearily.

‘Why? What's happened?' Gull asks concerned.

‘Yeah, tell us Dad. I can't bear any more suspense,' Tom says looking worried.

‘Well,' Harry says slowly, ‘a rumour's going around that this farm is contaminated. Farmers on some of the smaller properties are beginning to say they won't have any of our Harvesters on their properties at all: they're afraid their crops will fall over too.'

Gull and her cousins look at each in horror. They haven't told Helen how and where the rumour started, and now it's too late.

‘But the crops on the smaller farms are still standing, aren't they?' Helen asks.‘And you're scything as well,' Lucy glares. ‘What more can you do?'

‘I don't know,' Harry replies sighing heavily. ‘I reckon the next step is someone will call some Government department, and the Folly will be quarantined. By the time the quarantine is lifted, we'll all be ruined.'

‘But,' Helen says thinking quickly, ‘if my brothers take their Harvesters out to the smaller farms without bringing them here …'

The others brighten although Harry seems too tired to concentrate. Jake pushes a plate with a bread roll full of ham, chutney, cheese and tomato in front of his father. Harry eats it listlessly.

‘Then,' Lucy adds, ‘if the crops fall over, that will prove that whatever it is didn't come from our farm to begin with.'

‘It's a shame Ted and Jimmy brought theirs over in the beginning, isn't it, Harry?' Helen murmurs. Harry yawns but doesn't answer. ‘Harry?' He still doesn't answer. She looks at his eyes: they're almost closed.

‘We can talk about this tomorrow,' she says gently. Harry nods, gets up and walks towards the bedroom as if sleepwalking. Helen follows him, guiding his steps.

Poor Harry!
Helen thinks.
Hope he's not catching my sleeping sickness. That would be a disaster.

Chapter 7

Unaware of Helen's latest fear,
the gang picks up their mugs and heads for the lounge room where they slump comfortably in their favourite chairs.

Lucy says, ‘Poor Dad. That Norah Sprogg! Her “weak as water” friends sure didn't waste any time spreading that rumour, did they?' The three workers sit in exhausted silence sipping their tea.

Restless, Gull suddenly jumps up and sprints out to the hallway. She paces in front of the half dozen photos of the Hepplewhite family, from the first to the last, including her aunt, uncle and cousins.

‘Saying hello to your ancestors again?' Tom yells out. ‘We all know you spend hours in the hall talking to the wallpaper.'

Pretending she hasn't heard him, Gull says, as she pops her head around the lounge room door, ‘Are there more photos anywhere?'

‘Upstairs. In the old trunk,' Lucy sighs tiredly.

‘Yep. More boring photos,' Tom shrugs.

‘They're just the same as the ones in the hallway,' Jake adds uninterested.

‘I know it sounds strange …' Gull mumbles.

‘In this household,' Tom cuts in, ‘nothing is strange anymore.'

‘But I've got a feeling,' Gull continues, ‘that there's something important in that trunk. I just can't get it out of my head whenever I look at the hall photos.'

‘Knock yourself out,' Lucy shrugs. ‘We've already seen those photos tonnes and tonnes of times.'

Gull walks back into the hall and stops in front of the photo nearest the front door, the earliest one. She stares at it. Frederick Hepplewhite and his wife, Sarah, stare back at her. They're seated in front of the Folly with their eight children grouped around them. ‘All looking so clean and tidy,' she says to herself.

‘Why do I feel there's something you want to tell me?' Gull says as she continues to stare at the photo. Her eyes are drawn to the only fair-headed daughter. She seems to be staring intently in front of her, directly at Gull. If only you could talk, Gull murmurs, staring just as intently back.

Curious to get a better look at her ancestors, Gull unhooks the picture and takes it into the lounge room. Kneeling down, she starts wiping the photo clean with a piece of screwed up newspaper. Then Gull props it on the coffee table in front of a pile of books. Suddenly energised, she jumps to her feet and races upstairs to the Folly.