Deeper Water (15 page)

‘Well, I better go,’ he said, whistling for the dog. She came bouncing over, ears flopping in the air. ‘You grab her otherwise she’ll follow me.’

I picked her up. Half-grown she was pretty heavy. She scrabbled around in my arms, but after a second she stilled. Hamish reached out and gave her one last scratch behind the ears, then he stepped away from me, holding up a hand.

‘Let me know what you name her,’ he called, throwing out a promise of tomorrow.

Mum wasn’t too impressed about the puppy, even when I explained her pedigree. I knew she could see how much it pleased me, how every time I looked at it I thought of him, and how he’d thought of me. I saw the puppy as a sign of affection, and shafts of hope began to rise inside me. Would you buy a pup for someone you didn’t care about? I named her Blossom, for all the new things that were bursting inside me, but my mum refused to call her anything but ‘that pup’.

On the first day she dug up the garden, eating the hearts right out of some of Mum’s most precious plants. Her bromeliads. The house was tense, my mum bristling with annoyance. I tied Blossom up and she was chastened. After that she stayed by me, looking at my face to try to ascertain the rules. There weren’t many I could teach her, besides
don’t eat the plants
. In my house it had always been a case of anything goes.

Anja didn’t come all that day and I wondered where she was. I wasn’t game to head back up the hill and face her father, look into his half-crazed eyes and see the kiss reflected back at me. I missed her. She’d known all my unknowns—there hadn’t been anything to hide. I thought back on all we’d shared, tried to find those hints of sex, but, in truth, the boundaries between us had always been lax.

When we were very small we’d found a log, half submerged in the creek. Wedged under the stones by one of the floods, it lay there on an angle gathering moss, only the tip of it protruding. We always swam nude and I don’t know which one of us discovered it first, but we came to know that if we rubbed ourselves against it, there was a kind of pleasure. It was impossible to do together, so we’d take turns, one of us treading water while the other rubbed herself against the log. It wasn’t a secret, we spoke of it openly—‘You want to go rub the log?’ Too young to know that such things should be concealed. And in any case, when we looked about at the adult lives around us—all the frolicking nakedness, the hopping from bed to bed—how could we have known about such a thing as a private realm.

We didn’t see the log as a means to an end. We didn’t rub ourselves raw trying to get somewhere, we just liked the feel of it, comforting and sublime. The log washed away one flood, as unexpectedly as it’d come. We’d sat on the bank staring at the place it had been, wondering where it would end up, wondering if anyone would love it the way we had. The mossy log, svelte and lean. We mourned its sudden disappearance, but we soon forgot, moving on to some other curiosity. But maybe it had been there all the time, this shared thing. In the scheme of things it was hard to fathom.

All the next day I waited for Hamish to reappear, knowing that he would. There was a hum inside me, a kind of twanging. He had given me a pup and wasn’t that something? When my mum was finished in the shed I took her place, tying the pup to a post outside so she wouldn’t get under my feet while I made my mugs. Feeling the clay between my hands, I dreamed of him some more. I didn’t see Mum watching me, standing in the doorway, her frown growing deeper by the moment. When I finally noticed her, she couldn’t hide her dismay, and the secret sound inside me quietened a notch.

‘Mema, it’s no good.’ Her eyes were fierce and sad.

‘What?’ I asked, though I knew she saw everything. I knew she always had.

‘He’s not for you, love,’ she said, and I was struck ’cause she never called me that. ‘He’s just going to disappear. He’s been itching for it from the start.’

I think I knew she was right, but the shafts of hope inside me burned bright.

‘Mema, I know he seems all smooth and shiny, and you’ve been starved of some real company.’ She paused a second, watching my face. ‘And don’t think I’ve missed how much charm he’s thrown your way. I’ve seen him looking at you through those long lashes. But try to pin him down, even for a second, and he’ll just wriggle free.’

I could see there was no joy for her in speaking these words. That she’d rather not be standing there breaking my heart.

‘You don’t know him,’ I said, but my hands were shaking.

‘I can smell it a mile off, Mema. Call it my area of expertise.’

‘But what about the pup?’

‘Everyone has moments of kindness,’ she said. ‘The trick is telling which ones matter.’

I thought about the clearness of Hamish’s eyes. That first moment I truly saw them, pushing on the flank of my silly birthing cow.

I nodded, trying to dim that clamour inside me, trying to cover my shards of hope.

‘Okay, Mum.’ Fear was welling in my belly. I’d let go of the reins and my horse had galloped away. My imagination had jumped the fences—long gone—I didn’t even know where to look.

‘I know it hurts, Baby-girl,’ she said softly. ‘But I’m telling you, it can hurt a whole lot more.’

I thought of all the men my mum had known. All the times she’d believed. She stood there in the open doorway watching me, and I wished her gone, and all this bad history gone too, swept up under the rug.

‘They’re not all like that,’ I said, soft but defiant. ‘They can’t all be.’

She spread her arms wide, like she was holding the whole world, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to say a word. I looked out of the shed to my horizons, taking in the lie of the land—the gentle undulations of those rolling endless hills—and I nodded then, tucking my feelings away.

I was still tinkering at the wheel when Sophie came to visit in the afternoon, carrying a baby on each hip. It looked like they’d all just woken up, even Rory was quiet.

‘How’s the foot?’ she asked, putting Rory on the ground. He clung onto her leg, all sleepy-eyed.

‘Alright,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t bad.’

She sighed, looking up at the back veranda—the place where Old Dog used to be. After the vet, Mum had called her, letting her know that she was gone.

‘Mum said the flood guy bought you a new dog,’ she said, ruffling Rory’s hair. ‘A fancy one. That’s a bit of an investment.’ Sophie looked me over, and for once I wished her gaze was not so penetrating. ‘Where is it, then?’

‘I tied her up out the front. She keeps getting under Mum’s feet. She chewed the hearts out of a few of her bromeliads.’

‘Really?’ Sophie looked around, hiding a smile. ‘That’s bizarre.’

‘I know. What are the odds of getting a dog that likes to eat bromeliads?’

‘About a hundred to one,’ Sophie said, and I could see it tickled her fancy. Bromeliads were the only plants my mother really loved.

I got up from the wheel to go and untie the dog.

‘Come and meet her,’ I said to Rory, and he held out his hand for me to hold. When we got to the dog she was sitting, tail wagging against the ground, trying hard to control her enthusiasm. Rory was bamboozled by the new pup replacing the old. He couldn’t quite wrap his little mind around how such a swap would take place. He kept staring at her and saying again and again, ‘Mema, Old Dog was old,’ as if this should explain it, but it didn’t, and nothing really would.

Blossom was excited by Rory, recognising that he was fellow young pup. Once I let her off the leash she jumped straight up onto his back and knocked him over. It didn’t matter how many times I chastised her, she didn’t seem to believe this wasn’t great fun. In the end we went inside and sat on the couch. I held her still between my legs so Rory could get his bearings.

Even though I’d heard my mother’s words clearly, I found myself listening for the stranger’s footsteps on the dirt road, pining for the distant throb of Frank’s truck on our driveway, and in the end I heard it. Rory went speeding onto the front veranda, the puppy breaking free and following, running into the back of him and knocking him over so he landed face down on the old wooden slats. There was a graze and a bruise and he screamed, more in outrage than anything else. When Frank and Hamish stepped from the truck it was a general commotion that greeted them.

‘Hope she’s not already causing trouble,’ Hamish said and I could feel my mother’s irritation moving through the air towards him.

Frank stood back a little, holding his old hat in his hands, and Sophie took pity on him and asked if he wanted a cup of tea.

‘If you’ve got one on the boil,’ he said, and I could see him checking out our rusted gutters and all the peeling paint. I wondered then if he’d come to fix things then see what he could get.

Hamish looked at me, across the crying toddler and clumsy pup, but he didn’t step any closer. ‘Frank, you should see some of the pots and stuff in the shed,’ he said, motioning towards it with his head. ‘It’s pretty amazing in there.’

‘I’d like to see them. Would you …?’ Frank asked, looking across at Mum with just a touch of longing. Even though it was a set-up, how could she refuse?

Up on the veranda I stepped aside and Hamish came into the kitchen. The kettle had boiled and Sophie was pouring out the teas, Lila gurgling on her hip.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I met you properly. I’m Sophie.’ It was a pretty valiant effort at normality, considering the last time they’d encountered each other.

‘Hamish.’ He held out his hand to shake.

‘This is Lila.’ She smiled down at the baby. ‘And I’m sure you’ve already met Rory.’

Rory was standing, clinging onto my leg, tears still pooled in the corners of his eyes, warily watching out for the pup. He didn’t bother saying hi to Hamish.

‘How do you have your tea?’ Sophie asked.

‘However. I don’t mind.’ I guess Hamish knew we had limited options in the tea department.

The teas brewed on the benchtop and I watched the steam rise. Hamish sat down at the kitchen table and the puppy wandered over, finding her way to his feet. She sat right down on his shoe, leaning back against his leg, and he bent down and rubbed her ears.

‘What did you call her?’ he asked me, breaking the silence.

‘Blossom.’ Saying that word, I couldn’t look at his face.

‘Pretty,’ Sophie said, glancing between us, swapping Lila onto her other hip. She motioned Rory over for a hug, and he sniffled and let go of my leg.

‘Baby-girl, can you take the teas out?’ she asked me. ‘I can’t hold this lot and carry them.’

My nickname sounded odd in company. I nodded, but there was a part of me that felt shunted off like a child.

In the shed Frank was listening carefully as Mum told him how the wheel worked. He’d linked his fingers behind his back, as though to keep from touching anything. I stood a moment watching them. Frank kept breaking in to clarify some minor mechanical working. He asked question after question, keeping up the talk. He listened intently, hanging on Mum’s every word. I felt I was intruding, but the teas were getting cold.

‘Where do you want these?’ I called into the shed.

Mum was startled but Frank turned around slowly, like he was accustomed to any eventuality. He stepped towards me, taking the mugs from my hands, and handing one to my mother.

‘And these ones are yours, Mema?’ he asked. ‘You made them?’

‘Yep.’

He picked one up in his spare hand, inspecting it.

‘Clever.’ He paused, and I knew I was going to be kept there for a bit while he asked me about the process in the same way he’d been asking Mum. All the time I was thinking of Hamish and Sophie holed up in the kitchen, wondering what they’d have to talk about, and getting agitated imagining it. Finally Frank turned his attention back to Mum and I made a getaway.

When I stepped up onto the veranda I fished around a second for the dog lead, thinking if Blossom was still terrorising Rory it’d be best to tie her up. I heard their voices drifting out the door towards me, and I couldn’t help it—I stood there and listened. Sophie seemed to be giving Hamish the third degree.

‘So, you got a girlfriend, then?’ I heard her ask. ‘Someone missing you back home?’ I sucked in my breath, waiting for his answer.

‘No one special,’ he said, but there was something unconvincing about it. I could hear what he was leaving out. There
was
someone. Just someone
not that special
. It hit me like a punch in the stomach, even though I knew that, all things considered, it was obvious he would. He’d come from a life full of others—with cups of coffee at cafés, galleries and museums and restaurants and all that other stuff he’d told me about. Of course he had
someone.
Someone to do all that stuff with. I stood there wondering what makes someone special.

‘And you travel a lot for work? Other places besides out here in the middle of nowhere?’ My sister’s voice was chipper, that’s how I knew she was fishing.

‘Yeah, it’s pretty good, really. Lots of different gigs. Sometimes it’s small contracts like this one, but other times it can be quite big. And, you know, because it’s always to do with environmental issues, often I get to see places off the beaten track.’ Hamish didn’t seem to mind the grilling. He was going with the flow.

‘Like here?’ Sophie said. ‘This is pretty off the beaten track.’

Hamish didn’t answer but I imagined him nodding. A part of me was afraid Sophie might move on to interrogating him about me so I stepped inside.

Hamish smiled as I came through the door. My skin tingled under his gaze. My sister stared so hard I imagined she could see the trace of every minuscule quiver beneath my skin.

‘How’s Anja?’ Sophie asked me suddenly. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while.’

Blossom was nestled there at Hamish’s feet, asleep, without a care in the world. I looked at her, still cherubic and new, and I wished, just for a second, that I could be like that too.

‘She hasn’t been here for a few days.’

The baby fussed a little on Sophie’s hip and she jiggled her around. Rory was quiet on the couch, looking at a picture book.

‘That’s unusual,’ Sophie said, sitting down at the table and pulling up her shirt to breastfeed. ‘Hope everything’s okay.’

‘I’ve seen her a few times, out and about.’ Hamish piped up, looking away from my sister’s pale breast. ‘She seems alright.’

We both looked at him then, sharply.

‘It’s weird, she’s the main person I seem to bump into,’ he said. ‘You know, when you see the same person everywhere you go?’

Sophie looked disturbed at this and the baby started up fretting at the breast. She turned aside, whispering to Lila. I didn’t know what to think about Anja. She must have been stalking him. It was something she’d do.