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Authors: Fiona Palmer

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BOOK: Family Farm
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‘Thanks, Aunt B. You’re a legend.’ Izzy pulled out a chair and sat down. Reaching across, she helped herself to the warm scones and jam and cream.

‘So I take it you sold your little Datsun?’ Izzy asked Jess.

Jess went to laugh and just about choked on her cake. ‘I wish. I rolled it a year back. The shire had just re-sheeted the gravel road and it was slippery as anything.’

‘Oh, no! What a bugger. The old Dato had seen some good times, hey? You remember when we drove it down to Bremer Bay for the New Year’s Eve piss-up?’

Jess slapped her hand on the table. ‘Hell, yeah! We’d spent all our money on grog and had to sleep the night in the car. Those were the days, hey, Iz? So, what’s your score? Are you really back home to stay?’

‘Yep. There’s nothing like home. I’d like to help run Gumlea but Dad’s not to keen on the idea. What about you? You still living around here?’

‘Yeah, but I travel to Lake Grace every day for work. I’m working at the Shire now, doing secretarial stuff. I wanted to move into town but there’s nothing to rent. It’s too expensive. This way I pay Mum and Dad rent and I get my meals cooked and washing done. It’s heaps easier.’

Jess picked up some papers stapled together from a pile of magazines on the table. ‘Here – have you read the latest
Gumtree Gazette
? I typed this one up.’

Izzy took the local paper from Jess and read through the three pages of local news and events. ‘Wow, Goose is engaged. Who’d he find to marry?’

‘Some pommie chick who was working on the bin last harvest. She stayed on and hasn’t left. Think they’re getting married next September.’

Izzy scanned the birthdays. There were only five names listed. ‘It’s Jodie’s birthday next week. You see much of her?’

Jess shrugged her bony shoulders. ‘Here and there. I’ve been invited to her birthday do, but I don’t really want to go. She’s turning twenty-six but she’s having a big party like it’s her thirtieth. Has daddy’s money, will spend it. She hasn’t changed a bit. Except that she’s given up chasing Will.’

‘You’re kidding. We thought they’d be perfect. Two rich people, perfectly suited.’

‘Yeah, well …’ Jess paused. ‘Since Claire’s death Will hasn’t been the same guy. We never see him out and about, and if he does come to a party, he’s pretty quiet. No more drinking games or yahooing. And girls – my God, we think he’s gone off them. Seriously, I don’t think he’s had a girlfriend in the last few years. If he has, he’s kept it to himself.’

‘Wow, that’s not like Will.’

‘He has dinner with us every now and then,’ Aunt Betty added.

Izzy screwed her face up and swung around to face her. ‘True? Really?’

‘Yes. I think he’s been trying to make up for the time he crashed through the front paddock and took out the fence. Jim spent all morning getting the sheep back off the road.’

‘But that was ages ago. I was even around then.’

‘I know, but he’s really matured up. He’s a sweet lad.’

Izzy turned to Jess and rolled her eyes. Time for a change of subject, she thought. ‘So, Jess, you got a fella?’

Jess’s eyes twinkled.

‘Oh, do tell. Who is he? Do I know him?’

‘It’s Travis.’

‘Trav with the dreadies? Sweet. How long you been going out?’

‘About a year now. He wants me to move in with him on the farm. But I know he just wants a live-in cook and cleaner.’

Izzy laughed and helped herself to some sponge cake. Aunt B caught her eye and smiled. Izzy was really enjoying catching up with Jess. It was as if they’d never been apart. They had so much to talk about and Izzy soon realised how much town gossip she’d missed. Who’d sold up and who’d bought what, who’d left town and who’d shacked up with whom. They went on well after all the cake and scones had filled their bellies so they looked like over-pregnant ewes. Aunt B had even packed them doggie bags to take home. Izzy promised to call Jess soon. They were both pleased to have picked up their friendship where it had left off.

As Izzy watched Jess drive off in her Ford, she couldn’t help feeling less alone in the world of men. It wasn’t something she thought about often, but it could get kind of lonely sometimes out here, and it was good to know that she still had some female friends to talk to and have a laugh with. She was so glad Aunt B had invited Jess along.

7

A WEEK later Izzy was still no closer to getting on the header. Sure, she’d sneak off to Uncle Jim’s and kick him off his for a while, but it wasn’t the same as being on her own. She wanted to be doing the work, not taking rides like a little kid. She found herself inside again, away from the heat and flies, with her mum, having another cuppa. Being a farmer’s wife would drive her mad. She didn’t understand how her mother handled it. Stuck inside, doing housework, waiting by the two-way in case you were needed to bring out smoko.

‘Mum, I’m so bored.’

‘There’s some washing to hang out if you like?’


Muuum
.’ Izzy slumped her shoulders.

‘I know, love. It’ll be better when your father’s not so stressed. You know how his blood pressure skyrockets during harvest. We’ll work on him when he’s not so touchy.’

At that precise moment, the two-way crackled into life and startled them both.

‘Jean, Izzy, I have a fire in the header! Get help, quick,’ came the anxious voice of Bill.

‘Shit.’ Izzy jumped up and ran to the back door, shouting orders. ‘Mum, call the neighbours. I’ll get to the firefighter unit.’ She yanked at the flywire door, flinging it open, and was out past the gate before it had even slammed shut.

Jean leapt to the two-way on the wall, quickly flicking to Brian Timmins on channel six. Her hand was shaking as she clutched her chest. ‘Be careful, Izzy!’ she shouted after her daughter.

Izzy sprinted to her ute. ‘No, Tom. You stay here,’ she yelled sternly at her faithful companion, before climbing in. Gunning the ute to life, she sped off towards the paddock that her dad had been harvesting. Black smoke billowed into the sky, marking the spot.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ slipped out of Izzy’s mouth. Flicking the steering wheel, she slid the ute quickly around the corner, spraying dust and gravel out the back, before straightening up. Izzy knew her mum would be trying her best to get as much help as possible. All she had to worry about was getting there fast before anything awful could happen. She hoped it wasn’t bad. But the smoke was thick, and it was making her nervous. ‘Come on, Dad. Hang in there.’

Judging by the rich blackness of the smoke, it was definitely the header burning. Thank God there was no wind today. A decent wind-driven fire could easily spread out of control for many kilometres, destroying livestock and homes in the process. Hopefully they’d be able to get this one under control quickly, without losing too much crop.

Swerving around a gate and onto the edge of the paddock, she jumped on the brakes and skidded to a halt alongside the old yellow Landy. Without a moment’s hesitation she jumped straight in, praying the old girl would start right away. Bouncing up and down, she pumped frantically at the throttle, shouting words of encouragement to the ute, offering promises of new oil and a thorough cleaning. It fired with a bang and a splutter, and groaned when she planted her foot, forcing it into motion and causing a haze of smoke to pour out from the rattly exhaust. She caught a glimpse of the green header through the haze.

Shit. Where was Dad? Maybe he was just to the side, throwing sand or thrashing at the fire with his shirt, she hoped.

Barely able to hold the steering wheel straight, Izzy clamped her jaw shut so she wouldn’t bite her tongue. The whole ute was bouncing around like a jackhammer over the ruts in the paddock. Seconds ticked by, but they felt like minutes. Moving back and forth in her seat, she willed the ute to go faster, just another ten metres. Izzy got as close to the header fireball as she thought safe before she jammed on the brakes. She didn’t want to get caught up in the flames. In one swift movement, she was out, almost before the ute had stopped, and yanked the old Honda pump into life. With a flick of the lever, the fire hose spurted out like a burst water main.

Izzy ran towards the fire, dragging the long hose behind her. Her ankles twisted and strained as she ran over the ruts in the paddock, her boots kicking their way through the stubble and sandy soil.

The heat and smoke from the fire was so intense that she could only get within a few metres, as the flames reached out trying to lick at her moist skin. Sweat ran down her brow and her back. The smoke made her cough and her eyes water. Oh, what had Dad got himself into? The fire raged. Sucking at the green paint on the header, it circled up as it tried to swallow it completely, like a snake with its prey.

At last Izzy spotted Bill among the flames at the door of the cab. Fire was all around, pinning him in as he fought the blaze with a tiny red fire-extinguisher that dribbled out the last of its white foam.

Aiming the hose, she tried to douse him and his burning pants. His eyes shut and his face relaxed momentarily as the water reached his legs. The drenching didn’t take long to put out his trousers. Next, she tried to clear a path down the steps for him to escape the inferno. She watched closely as her dad threw the now empty fire-extinguisher aside and turned to climb cautiously down the narrow steps of the header.

On the other side of the paddock, Will’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel of their water truck. He was driving way too fast in the old girl and was feeling every bump as his knees smacked into the hard underside of the dash. He wondered how his dad was going bouncing around on the back. He closed his eyes for a split second in a silent prayer. He hoped to God that it wasn’t bad. Fires in summer were dreadful, but a header fire during harvest was the pits. Last year Roger Smith lost his whole paddock and some native reserve. Luckily he’d walked away injury-free, but he’d lost a whole lot of money in less than ten minutes.

Will could see the black smoke as he closed in, and his guts churned with fear and adrenaline. His dad was ready to start the pump the moment they got close enough. As the minutes dragged on, he worried about Bill. The man was more than just his neighbour. Over the last couple of years they’d built a close friendship, understanding each other’s struggles. Bill had blamed himself for Claire’s death. He believed she shouldn’t have been working on the farm in the first place. After her death he had lost interest in the property, and his passion for his land had begun to die. Then Will started working on Gumlea to help get it back into shape. At first he’d done it to spend time away from his parents, who didn’t understand what he was going through. They let him come and go without question, sensing he needed his space. And for that he was grateful. Little by little Will formed a bond with Bill, and his persistence paid off as Bill started to open up and the two men became close. They both shared the loss of Claire, understood each other’s pain and found it comforting just knowing the other was there. Together they’d helped each other without really knowing it. The farm work had brought them closer, and Gumlea had prospered as a result.

No longer did Will cruise the local pubs looking for a good time every weekend. Instead he preferred to share a few beers with Bill in the dying afternoon light. Claire would have called him soft if she’d been around. But Will preferred to think he’d just mellowed and realised what was important.

The smell of smoke wafted through the cab. He was getting close now. Will glanced at his mobile and prayed he wouldn’t have to use it. He could see the fierce flames and Izzy with the hose trying to keep them at bay. The header was a goner for sure.

When he was about ten metres away Will turned the big wheel and swung the truck around to give his dad a better vantage point with their hose. It was time for action.

A faint rumbling sound distracted Izzy and a blue truck braked suddenly beside her. Will and his old man, Brian, had arrived with their water truck.

‘Oh, thank God!’ Their presence gave her more willpower. Brian was on the back of his truck with the pump going, already hosing down the header near Bill. Will had jumped out from behind the steering wheel, opening his mobile and dialling for help as he did. He too had noticed the state of Bill’s burnt legs.

Izzy watched anxiously as Bill slowly descended the narrow blackened steps. He was just about at the last step when she saw him slip on the white foam. His arms flailed above his head, and he collapsed backwards, falling into the smoke and flames that were running riot from the core of the header. They seemed to suck him in, engulf him completely, and he vanished completely from Izzy’s sight.


Daaad!
’ Izzy screamed out in horror, before choking on the smoke. Her heart leapt against her chest and a wave of sickness washed over her. A blurry figure passed her and she realised it had to be Will. He disappeared into the thick black smoke and licking red flames, calling for her dad. Desperately, she tried to pinpoint them in the inferno. Precious seconds ticked by. She worried that they would be burnt to a crisp and shuddered at the thought. Wave upon wave of choking black smoke puffed out from around the old header, screening off her view.

Izzy and Brian kept two powerful streams of water on the smoke where the men had disappeared, hoping to keep them from the intense heat. Their faces seemed to appear, then disappear amid the smoke as if it was playing tricks on her, taunting her at this vulnerable moment. Then Will emerged from the smoke like an illusion, dragging a large blackened body along with him. Turning off the hose, Izzy ran towards them. Her heart pounded. Was he dead? At that moment she saw Bill struggle to move one leg, then slowly the other one. Feeling light and dizzy, she gasped for air, not realising she’d been holding her breath all this time. ‘He’s alive.’

Will easily supported Bill’s weight as they stood. Their faces were blackened, and drenched in a mixture of sweat and water. Small reddish burns scarred the top of Will’s hands, and his hair looked singed in a few places.

‘Isabelle,’ her dad said hoarsely as his bloodshot eyes found hers. She reached up and touched his face, wiping off some black soot. Tears started to gather in the corner of her eyes. She’d never felt so overcome with emotion. Her father was okay. Izzy turned to Will and was struck with a powerful feeling of astonishment and deep admiration. It had been the most heroic thing she’d ever seen.

BOOK: Family Farm
2.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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