Trouble in Nirvana (5 page)

“You don’t understand.” A very familiar tone from their childhood. Long suffering, irritatingly patronising but now with a hint of sadness. “You never have, Rosie.”

“I’m trying to. That’s why I’m here.” She chopped up a pile of tomatoes and dumped them into the pan. She hadn’t ever understood Danny. But he’d never understood her, either, it cut both ways, his accusation. Perhaps neither of them had bothered to try.

“Why
are
you here? We were really surprised to get your letter,” said Nirupam. “We haven’t seen you for years. Since your Mum’s funeral, I think. Or our wedding.”

Danny’s fault, not hers. He was the one who turned his back on society and went bush.

“No. I know. I’ve had a...I needed to get away from everything. I thought here was the best place.”

“What happened?” Nirupam's expression was gentle, uncritical.

“I was engaged. You didn’t know, same as I didn’t know about your baby.” She turned the heat down under the tomatoes, checked the pasta and sat down at the table opposite Danny. She blinked rapidly as more unaccustomed tears threatened. “We’re not very good at family things, are we?”

He tilted his head briefly. A half smile flicked on and off. “We didn’t have a very good example.”

“We should be better, Danny, we’re all we’ve got. I think that’s part of why I’m here.”

“You’re welcome, Rosie.” Nirupam stretched out a thin arm and squeezed Primrose’s hand. “For however long you want to stay.”

“Thanks.” She bit at her lower lip. “Martin decided I wasn’t what he wanted after all. He preferred a woman with a child, who was already married to someone else.”

“Idiot.”

She looked at Danny, surprised at the comfort the single word gave her. Surprised at his unquestioning support of her as an attractive and valuable person. A desirable woman.

“I’m over him now.” If she said it often enough it may become fact. “It’s nearly two months ago. It wasn’t him alone that made me decide to change my life. I didn’t have anywhere to live. He moved out and I couldn’t afford the place on my own. I’ve been staying with friends.” She hesitated but the sympathetic expressions and silence made her continue. “I had some tough gigs. They ran for seven months in total. I hated going to work. It made me wonder if I’m cut out to be a professional player. And on top of Martin I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I was hoping if I came here I could sort myself out.”

Danny nodded. “Same reason we came here. To escape that sort of stress.”

“You need to find your centre, your essence.” Nirupam sat back with a beatific expression. Like the Buddha. “Fern can do some psychic healing techniques with you.”

“What exactly is psychic healing?”

“She channels spirit guides who help solve people’s problems. There are other techniques, too—like crystals and past life regressions, Tarot, angel cards, primal screaming, rebirthing. She chooses, depending on the client.”

“I’ll think about it.” How on earth did you choose which method to use? Especially if you were a born cynic. And did they work regardless? Her mind was trying hard to be open but she’d already been born once and with Nirupam about to pop, another birth was decidedly unnecessary. And she had enough problems with her current life without going back and adding more from whatever character in the past she may have been.

“She’s helping me,” said Nirupam. “I feel so tired all the time. Fern says my energy fields aren’t aligned correctly and I need the right crystals in my room.”

“Do you think maybe you could be deficient in iron? Anaemic?” Judging by what was in the food department malnutrition was a distinct possibility. “Wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor. Just to be sure. You don’t want the baby’s health to suffer.”

“Doctors are all quacks.” Kurt stomped in and pulled a chair out with a thud. “They don’t know anything. Nothing wrong with Nirupam. It’s the parasite baby sucking all the goodness from her body. It’s natural.”

Primrose clenched her teeth and averted her eyes from his hulking frame. “What do you think, Danny?”

“The nearest doctor is in Braidwood.” As if travelling sixty kilometres was an insurmountable barrier. “And they cost a fortune.”

“You can claim it back through Medicare if they don’t bulk bill. But if it’s a money thing I’ll pay. I don’t want Nirupam and the precious baby to be in any danger.”

Danny looked at Nirupam. “Maybe a check-up?”

“All right.” Poor Nirupam hardly had the energy to open her mouth, let alone argue. No wonder she let these people make decisions for her.

“Waste of money,” muttered Kurt.

“I’ll take the risk,” said Primrose crisply. “I’ll phone in the morning and make an appointment.”

Kurt grinned. “We don’t have a telephone.”

“I have a mobile.”

“It won’t work out here,” said Danny. “We use Tom’s next door if we need to call anyone.”

“Does he mind?” Primrose stood up hastily to check on her cooking. What would he say when she appeared asking to use his phone, having already helped herself to his bathroom? But she had no choice. Nirupam’s health was more important than her own pride. The baby must be given priority.

“No, but we don’t use it much,” said Nirupam.

“We don’t need any help from that bastard,” growled Kurt. Primal screaming aimed at that crazy man was suddenly very appealing.

“What’s your problem with him?” Primrose turned to Danny. “Kurt said he cheated you.” If they shared everything then this topic must be open for public discussion as well.

Danny shifted uneasily in his chair and looked to Nirupam for assistance. Typical! The furtiveness of the action caused a familiar rush of annoyance at her brother the evader of confrontation. He’d never stood up to their father, even when he was big enough, always disappeared when things became nasty and left home as soon as he was able. Not that he didn’t keep in touch with her and Mum—but it was from a distance.

“Fairbrother,” began Kurt but Primrose cut in swiftly with, “I’d rather hear it from Danny, thanks.”

Danny said, “I don’t have any problem with Tom. A few years ago we were in a bit of financial trouble so I sold him fifty acres of land.” He glanced at her then away. Furtive? Guilty? “I didn’t think you’d mind. You never cared anything about this place and you’re earning money.”

Primrose eyed her brother with sudden fury, then remembered Kurt. No way was she washing family dirty linen in front of him, no matter how estranged she was from Danny.

“He’d only take the river land and he named his own price. Paid virtually nothing,” roared Kurt. “Cheated Danny of the best land.”

She kept her gaze on her brother, ignoring the smelly, wild-eyed German huffing and puffing on her right. “But why did you sell to him?”

“Didn’t have any other offers. I wanted to sell the stretch along the road.” Danny hesitated, looked away. “Tom didn’t want it because it wasn’t adjacent to his property.”

“Did he pay the market price?”

“He made an offer and I accepted.” Danny’s feeble defiance. “The amount doesn’t matter, Rosie. We made enough to get ourselves out of debt so that was that. I can’t pay you your share if that’s what’s bothering you. You were the one who said one signature was enough,” he added with an almost petulant, childish expression.

“No. It’s not the money, if you needed it.” Primrose sighed, glanced at Kurt who was taking in the details with a greedy expression. “I wouldn’t have objected but it would have been nice to know.”

Danny all over. Take the easy option. Let Tom Fairbrother walk away with the best piece of land, no matter he could have hung out for twice as much. But what did the deal say about Tom’s moral standards? Not a lot.

Chapter Three

Tom heard the car coming this time. He strolled across the yard to meet Primrose, the casual stride hiding a sudden, unexpected surge of anticipation.

She wore denim shorts today with a sleeveless pink T-shirt. He indulged himself in a long look at her legs and nicely rounded bottom as she got out of the car.

“Morning.” He flicked his eyes quickly to her face as she turned to greet him.

“Good morning.” She removed her dark glasses and wiped her palm across her brow. Tired. Her eyes had dark smudges under them.

“Sleep well?”

To his surprise she laughed. She had dimples. Beautiful dimples which gave her a cheeky, girlish look and chased the weariness from her face. Sexy as all get out. “No. Terrible. Possums use the roof as a midnight racetrack and as well as lumps in the mattress, mozzies, and the heat, I had nightmares about Kurt. He’s on my wall, too.”

Tom grinned. “I’ve got some leftover paint if you want to redecorate.”

Her eyes lit up. Green with darker brown flecks shining in the sunlight. “Really? Thanks.” The smile morphed into a grimace. “Think they’d mind?”

“Kurt’s sure to.”

“In that case I’ll take you up on your offer, thank you.” The light danced in her eyes again, locking on his for a long, unsettling moment until he remembered she wanted paint. If she wasn’t flirting with him now he’d be a walkover if she ever decided to. None of the local girls could match her. Smart and sexy. Dangerous.

“You’ll need a roller and brush too.” He headed for the store shed, focussing hard on the task, not the image in his mind of her smiling mouth. Lucky the leftover paint was white although any colour would be better than the catastrophe she had. Her voice stopped him. He turned.

“Actually, Tom, I came over to ask if I could use the phone, please. I’m worried about Nirupam. She’s really tired all the time. Do you know she hasn’t seen a doctor yet?”

He studied her face. Lips firm, eyes screwed up against the glare. Her tone implied he was somehow at fault. She replaced the sunglasses. All businesslike distance in a moment.

“I’m not involved. It’s their business.”

“But you’re their friend, aren’t you? You gave them those tomatoes.” Her gaze bored into him. Was there some other agenda here? One he didn’t know about?

“I had too many.”

“Kurt thinks you deliberately stopped him getting decent plants. Did you?”

Was she serious? How dare she? Silly, interfering woman.

“What do you think I am? First you accuse me of neglecting Nirupam’s health, now you accuse me of thwarting Kurt’s inept attempts to grow tomatoes.” He took a step closer and glared down at her. “Nirupam is Danny’s wife, not mine and the child is his, not mine. They, as do I and clearly you, prefer to run their lives their own way. Kurt won’t take advice from anyone but is more than ready to blame anyone, usually me, when his crops fail. Which is most of the time.”

Her cheeks grew pinker and pinker as he spoke but a determined frown creased her forehead beneath the wisps of multicoloured hair.

“I agree with you about Kurt but as an intelligent, concerned person surely you could see Nirupam isn’t well. You can’t just turn your back on something if it’s obviously wrong and someone’s health is involved. Two someone’s in this case.”

“I don’t interfere in other people’s affairs and I haven’t seen enough pregnant women to know. Have you?”

“She’s incredibly tired and very pale. They think someone called Fern will fix her up with crystals. I think she needs a steak and she certainly needs a doctor.”

Tom drew a deep breath. Add stubborn to her faults. She was right but it wasn’t any of his business. Why on earth did she think it was? He said curtly, “The phone’s in the kitchen. Help yourself. You know the way. I’ll get the paint.”

“Thanks.” Equally as terse.

Tom strode to the store shed and flung the door open. What was it about this girl that attracted him as much as irritated him? She was pretty in name and presence—more than pretty, she was downright irresistible with her dimples, neat figure and her sexy legs. But she was bossy and impertinent. The complete opposite of her brother. What sane man would get involved with her? Not him, and apart from everything else she was a city girl slumming it. She’d be bored within days by the monotony and discomfort of commune life.

But she’d give Kurt a run for his money which couldn’t be a bad thing and anything she did to improve that place over there was worth encouraging.

He pulled two tins of white paint from under a tarpaulin. She’d need a tray, roller and brush. He lugged everything to the car. Primrose was still in the house. Was she taking advantage of his bathroom again? Chuckling, he pulled the screen door open and walked down the hallway. No sound of water running. Her voice startled him.

“N-I-R-U-P-A-M. Yes, I know. It is unusual. It’s Indian.” A pause. “She’s Australian.” She lolled against the kitchen bench with the phone against her ear and rolled her eyes when she spied him in the doorway. “Eight months.” More silence. “Thank you. Good bye.” She disconnected.

“Okay?”

“Ten o’clock tomorrow in Moruya. The Braidwood doctor suggested we go there instead because of the better maternity facilities. What do I owe you for the calls?”

“I’ve no idea. Don’t worry about it.”

Primrose opened her purse. “Two dollars should cover it.”

“I said don’t bother.”

She clinked the coin on the bench. “I don’t want to be a freeloader—or cheat you out of anything.” She met his eye with fearless directness. The stolen shower hovered between them. He almost laughed. Her grim expression wasn’t within cooee of laughing. No sexy overtones now.

“Like to use the facilities while you’re here?”

Her jaw tightened. “No, thanks. I’ll be going.” She started for the front door.

“The paint’s in the car.” He followed her rapidly striding figure. Boy, she had an exceptional rear view. He curled and uncurled his tempted fingers. “Clean up in water.”

“Thanks.”

“If you need any help, give me a yell.”

“I won’t, but thanks.”

“No worries.” He walked across to the car with her. “Early in the morning’s best to start painting otherwise the fumes'll knock you flat.”

She grimaced. “Another night with the tribe.”

“Last one. Then you’ll only have possums, mozzies, and the lumpy mattress.”

“And Kurt.” She paused, obviously considering her next words. “He throws some wild accusations around.”

“Most of them are about me.”