Flying the Coop (37 page)

‘Tough,' said Chris unsympathetically.

The screen door banged open and Dot came in with Mac walking very slowly behind her. She pulled out a chair for him and waited until he had gingerly lowered himself down before Howard's incessant rocking drew her attention. ‘What's that?'

‘Hope it's not the pizza,' commented Mac.

‘No, it's that chook of yours, Dot.' Chris frowned. ‘He just got returned because he attacked the new owners. And their cat.'

‘That's it then.' Dot gave the box a disgusted look. ‘That was his last chance. Now it's the pot for him.'

‘Just chuck 'im in th'first pen, Red,' advised Mac. ‘We'll sort 'im out tomorrow.'

Zoe came in as Mac was talking so Chris glanced across at her hopefully. The girl rolled her eyes and then picked up the box without being asked. Howard immediately settled as she carried him outside.

‘Thanks, Zoe!' yelled Chris before turning to Mac. ‘How does a beer sound?'

‘Like heaven,' Mac sighed happily. ‘Good on you, Red.'

‘Don't be a bloody fool!' called Dot, who had sidled into the office and was now firmly ensconced in the chair checking her email. ‘Excuse my French, but if you have a beer on top of those tablets, you'll be off your head in no time!'

‘That's fine.' Mac winked at Chris as she placed a can of beer and a glass down in front of him. ‘Then you can 'ave your way with me tonight, can't you, Dorrie?'

Dot snorted. ‘In your dreams!'

‘What about you, Dot?' asked Chris. ‘Beer? Or a cup of tea?'

‘A cuppa'd be grand, love.
One
of us has t'stay sober.'

‘Coming up.' Chris put the kettle on and, while it was heating up, poured herself a weakish scotch and coke. It tasted like elixir of the gods.

‘I'm going to go wait for the pizza.' Zoe came back in, minus the cardboard box. ‘Do you want me to use the change tin?'

‘Good idea.' Chris pulled out of her pocket the change she had collected earlier and deposited it inside the change tin before handing it over.

‘Hey!' Mac, who had obviously just thought of something, clicked his fingers and turned to Zoe, just as she was leaving. ‘Can you check the letterbox while you're out there, girl? The local paper should be there by now. I need it.'

‘Sure.'

‘Zoe just put that nasty chook back in
my
pen!' Michael burst in through the screen door, already yelling as his sister exited down the passage. ‘I thought he was gone. He's why I had to stop playing in there
last
time coz he chases me! He's a right proper
bastard
!'

‘Do you want your mouth washed out?' Chris faced the dirty, indignant boy. ‘Don't say bastard! As for Howard, he's only back overnight. Then tomorrow he's being executed for crimes to humanity.'

‘Good!'

‘Now, while we're waiting for the pizza, you go wash. Thoroughly please.'

‘I got an email from Neil,' said Dot happily. ‘I'm telling him about his idiot father.'

‘She got a
what
?' Mac looked at Chris in bewilderment. ‘Did she say an
email
?'

‘Yep.' Chris finished making Dot's tea and took it, and her scotch, over to the table. Then she slid tiredly into a chair opposite Mac.

‘Didn't know she knew 'ow to do those,' Mac muttered to himself as he took another swig straight from the beer can. The glass remained unused.

‘There's a
lot
you don't know.' Dot came into the kitchen and settled herself down next to Chris. She stirred her tea and took a sip. ‘Thanks, love. Just what I needed.'

‘Pizza!' Zoe came in bearing three large pizza boxes with the local paper and the change tin balanced precariously on top. Bobbing down, she slid the boxes onto the table, passed
the paper to Mac and then put the change tin over on the bench.

‘Terrific! I
love
pizza,' enthused Dot, as if she had it all the time.

‘Can I have some of your coke, Mum?' Zoe was peering in the fridge.

‘Okay. And you might as well pour some for your brother too.'

Chris levered the box lids open and revealed a ham and pineapple pizza, one with the lot and an Aussie, with bacon and scrambled egg nestled between shreds of ham and melted cheese. They all smelt delicious. Michael came running through from the bathroom and threw himself into a chair, grabbing a piece of the ham and pineapple. Apart from his hands and a section around his mouth and nose, he was still filthy. In fact his eyebrows were so caked with dirt that they had changed from ginger to dark brown, giving him a very odd appearance. Chris decided that she couldn't be bothered sending him back again. He could have a bath later and, in the meantime, at least those portions of him that were having direct contact with the food were reasonably clean.

‘Where's Geraldine?' Michael spoke thickly, through a mouthful of pizza.

‘Outside. Ah, 'ere we go.' Mac had the paper open and was looking delighted. Having clearly found what he wanted, he pulled the relevant page out and let the rest of the paper drop to the floor. He folded the page over and passed it to Chris with a grin. ‘Check this out, Red.'

Rather baffled, Chris rested her pizza slice on the lid of one of the boxes and took the page. She flicked her eyes quickly down over an advertisement for legal services:
Have
you
been injured in a public place lately?,
an article on a series of petty thefts from local toilet blocks:
Police fail in attempt to flush out
brazen loo thief
, and another article about some business changing hands:
Mackaway's passes the baton and says: Give her a go!
She froze momentarily and then raised her eyes back to the article about the new business. She read it slowly.

The end of an era came for Healesville with the sale of Mackaway's free-range egg farm last month. The new owner, Ms Christin Beggs – who moved from the city with her children to take up farming – is on a ‘steep learning curve', according to Jim Mackaway, farm manager for the past thirty-eight years.

But Mr Mackaway also said he has been very impressed by Ms Beggs' commitment: ‘When she first arrived, she couldn't tell her wattle from her comb. I gave her Buckley's chance of running this place. But I'm glad to admit I was wrong. That girl is gutsy, determined and a real hard worker. We all need to get behind her and give her a go. She deserves it.' Mr Mackaway went on to send a challenge out to all Healesville and district residents to ‘put their money where their mouth is' when it comes to supporting local business: ‘Here's a business that could be employing others soon, but it needs our support now. It's a way of investing in our future.'

The farm, now renamed ‘Beggs Eggs', has begun door sales, which were discontinued almost fifteen years ago through lack of staff. So once more Healesville residents have an opportunity to purchase genuine farm fresh free-range eggs at very reasonable prices. The farm is situated at 3 Zoello Road, which is off Steiger Road behind the new Lakeview Estate.

For those who lack transport, Beggs Eggs are also now
available at various retail outlets around the district, such as Sanctuary General Store at Badger's Creek and Meagher's Delicatessen in Main Street, Healesville. For a list of stockists or if your business is interested in stocking Beggs Eggs, ring the farm on +61-3-5977332.

Chris opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. All sorts of questions jostled in her mind. How did Mac organise this? Did he really think all that of her? That she was gutsy and determined? Did all that mean he'd reversed his earlier opinion, and thought she now had a chance? And what the hell was a wattle? Dot, who had been reading over her shoulder, looked across at Mac with delight.

‘
You
did this, didn't you?'

Mac nodded diffidently. ‘May 'ave.'

‘Let's see.' Zoe grabbed the page from her mother and read it while she ate pizza. When she finished, she grinned across at Mac. ‘This is
great
, Mac! Especially the bit about investing in the future! If it doesn't increase sales,
nothing
will!'

‘You're not saying much, Red.' Mac looked across at Chris. ‘Not 'appy?'

‘Oh, no!' Chris shook her head earnestly. ‘I'm
thrilled
. And touched. Really. Just sort of stunned. I mean, how did you get them to
do
this?'

‘Well, I can't take
all
the credit.' Mac took another sip of beer and put the can down. Then, clearly enjoying his moment, he looked around at his audience with a rather lopsided smile.

‘You shouldn't be drinking,' said Dot critically.

‘I'm
fine
, woman!' He glared at her while he took another gulp for good measure.

‘Come on, Mac,' said Chris, who was well aware that his uncharacteristic chattiness was probably a result of the mix of
painkillers and beer, but she wanted the full story. ‘Tell me what happened.'

‘It was me son, see.'

‘
Neil
?' asked Chris, astounded.

‘
Thought
you two must 'ave known each other –' Mac looked at her curiously – ‘coz he rings me last week and tells me to expect a call from Colin Wilson. That's a guy he used to go to school with who –'

‘Works at the local paper now,' interrupted Dot, who was gazing at Chris thoughtfully. ‘But how do you know my Neil?'

‘Just from when he first replied to your email, that's all. We started emailing a bit.'

‘Like every day,' added Zoe obligingly.

‘Really?' Dot continued to look at Chris but went uncharacteristically quiet.

‘
Anyway
,' continued Mac, clearly eager to retain his limelight, ‘so Neil got hold of this guy and told him all about th'farm changing hands. How it'd been in our family for years and all. And he says that he thinks it'd make a good story for th'paper but to get all th'info offa me and make it a surprise for you. So this bloke gives me a ring and asks me a heap of questions. And then he tidied them all up and made them sound good. Investin' in th'future! I like that.'

‘Who's Neil?' asked Michael, around a mouthful of pizza.

‘That was
really
nice of you both.' Chris smiled at Mac, while she tucked away a warm, fuzzy feeling about Neil's consideration to be dealt with later. ‘And do I take it this means that you think a woman could run this place after all?'

‘To tell you th'truth, Red –'Mac pointed at her with his can of beer – ‘I'm still not sure. But you've put in some damn hard work around here so if any sheila can do it, I reckon you'd be th'one.'

‘Thanks, Mac.' Chris nodded appreciatively. ‘And Zoe's right, you know. If this doesn't make a huge difference, nothing will.'

From:
Neil Mackaway

Date:
Friday, 17th November 2006. 6.40PM

To:
Christin Beggs

Subject:
Hi again

I hear you tried to do away with my father today. You know, he may be annoying but that's probably a bit short-sighted as he can be fairly useful. I hope you got through the day okay after that, though. I've done quite a few of those chook transfers in my time and I know they're damn hard work. And I wonder if you could do me a favour? Could you possibly look in on my father tonight – I'm a bit concerned about him up at home by himself with a couple of cracked ribs. I'd be really grateful.

Cheers, Neil

From:
Christin Beggs

Date:
Friday, 17th November 2006. 9.23PM

To:
Neil Mackaway

Subject:
Re: Hi again

I hope you're joking with the insinuation that I crippled your father on purpose! Besides, you should be thanking me. I have single-handedly managed to get your parents talking again and – obviously your mother didn't tell you – but she insisted on your father staying with her until he's better! So I don't need to look in on him – he's being well taken care of (wink, wink). Now, I understand that I have you to thank for the local paper idea. It arrived today and your father very proudly showed me – I am really,
really
grateful for you pulling whatever strings. Sales were already climbing up and this will make all the difference. Really appreciated. Love, Chris

O
ne of the first things Chris noticed on the drive into the city on Saturday were the Christmas decorations, which came as a bit of a shock. Huge green boughs hung above the streets and tinsel lanterns, candy-canes and minimalist Santas adhered to every second light-pole. And the shops! Adorned with fake snow and sparkling Christmas trees and brightly wrapped gifts, they were well into the season to be jolly with one's credit card.

Chris had been so wrapped up in the farm in recent weeks that she had missed the advent of the season entirely. Instead it seemed that the world had leapt from spring to Christmas without any sort of breathing space. Usually, at this time of the year, she would have already put in for her holidays, finished the majority of her Christmas shopping and even posted all the interstate presents off. All that remained was to haul the tree down from the roof-space and decorate it. With a sinking feeling, Chris wondered if the tree was, in fact, still up in the roof-space. In Canterbury. Certainly she couldn't remember fetching it down when they moved.

Nor had she done any Christmas shopping at all. No presents wrapped and ready to be posted, no toys hidden
somewhere in the house where Michael wouldn't think of looking, no layby organised for the expensive electronic gadgets that Zoe just
had
to have. Nothing. But neither, surprisingly, had Zoe or Michael spoken about what they wanted or even left catalogues lying around in which certain items had been circled in texta and well-adorned with exclamation marks. In fact, they hadn't mentioned Christmas at all – and they still didn't mention it as Chris drove through the tinsel-decorated streets to their father's apartment block. Once there, they were greeted with the news that Garth had been successful at the auction and he immediately whisked the kids into his car and off for a celebratory lunch.

Chris parked her car at the upper end of Swanston Street and strolled over towards her old firm, which was open on a Saturday morning. She crossed through the mirrored pillars on the ground floor towards the elevator at the rear and, while waiting for it to arrive, took a moment to glance into one of the mirrors to check her appearance. Wavy red hair neatly brushed for once – but rapidly becoming in need of a trim. Make-up carefully applied, low-heeled black sandals, ankle-length khaki layered skirt, white broderie anglaise shirt with green stitching, dangly bead earrings. Rather bohemian but very summery. She nodded approvingly as the elevator arrived and she took it up to the fourth floor. There she exited into the marbled foyer and looked over at the reception desk, expecting to see Rachel, who often worked Saturdays as part of the skeleton staff. But a different blonde was sitting there. Still young, still slim and still manicured – but different.

‘Can I help you?'

‘Um, yes. Is Virginia in?'

‘No, she's in Sydney. At a conference.'

‘Christin!' Gloria Stanford emerged from her office with an armful of files and smiled welcomingly at Chris. ‘How lovely
to see you! Visiting the big smoke, are we?'

‘Only for the weekend. How are you?'

‘I'm fine. Just fine.' Gloria dumped the files in front of the blonde. ‘Take these into Mr Stanford's office please, Courtney. Well, Christin, what a shame you missed Virginia. She's at a conference in Sydney.'

‘So I heard.' Chris watched Courtney try to hide her eagerness as she collected up the files and headed off towards the offices. ‘What happened to Rachel?'

‘We had to let her go.' Gloria looked regretful. ‘Such a shame. But never mind. Now tell me, when are
you
coming back? Your replacement is an absolute fool.'

‘Oh, well . . . um –'

‘Come have a cup of coffee. It'll give me a chance to make an offer you can't refuse.'

‘I'd love to –' Chris made a show of glancing at her watch – ‘but unfortunately I'm a bit short of time. I just thought I'd drop in to say a quick hello.'

‘Well – hello.' Gloria waved her hand. ‘I'll let Virginia know you were here. Good luck with everything, Christin. And just remember, there's always a spot waiting here for you. Now, where's that fool Courtney? How long does it take to drop off a few files?'

Chris spent the next two hours on her Christmas shopping. She bought some new clothes for both Zoe and Michael, and then a huge, shiny red Mack truck and an assortment of smaller matchbox cars for Michael. Next were a selection of CDs for Zoe and a beautiful leather writing case that held a foolscap pad, a gold biro and a matching gold extension pencil. For her parents she ordered a hamper filled with all sorts of delicacies that the store would deliver to their address on Christmas Eve.

She stopped briefly for a bite and then forged on. For Lauren, she bought a lemon Roxy tank-top and for Jenny, after a great deal of thought, she bought a copy of the
Kama Sutra
, complete with glossy pictures. While in the bookstore, she also found an easily understandable beginners guide to the internet, which she decided would be just perfect for Dot. Then, last of all, she staggered into an auto shop and selected a lovely pair of black suede car-seat covers for Mac's new ute.

As she stored all these purchases in the car boot, Chris spared a moment to hope that the egg sales did indeed increase dramatically. Otherwise she'd still be paying off today's little shopping spree
next
Christmas. But nothing was going to dent her mood today. She felt upbeat, and cheerful, and festive – and free.

With some difficulty, Chris found a park at Southbank and strolled jauntily along the riverbank until she reached their favourite Saturday afternoon restaurant. There, she took the escalator to the second floor and threaded her way through the crowded tables towards the balcony. As she went, she was suddenly beset by an illogical feeling that things had changed so much since she left that no-one met here anymore. That they had all moved on – minus her. But as soon as she walked out onto the balcony, she saw them chatting happily at the usual table up against the low wall. On the far side was Kim, in a sleeveless white pullover and oversized sunglasses, and next to her was Annie, in a frilly peach-coloured blouse. Sitting opposite was Ebony, wearing her standard jeans with a snug black shirt, and Janice, in white pedal pushers and a lime-green t-shirt, her chair pushed away slightly so she could smoke without offending anyone. Then at the end of the table furthest away from the balcony, and sitting between Annie and Ebony, was a woman Chris had never seen before, a forty-something brunette in tailored grey pants and a fitted black open-necked shirt.

‘Hi, you lot,' Chris stood behind Janice's chair, smiling widely.

‘Chris!'

‘You're back!'

‘
Fantastic
!' Ebony jumped up and threw her arms around Chris, giving her a strenuous hug. ‘Don't tell me you're back for good?'

‘You chucked in the country?' asked Kim, giving Chris's outfit the once-over.

‘No, nothing like that.' Chris grabbed a spare chair from another table and pulled it over, squeezing it in between Janice and the balcony wall. ‘I'm just in the city for the weekend, that's all.'

‘Oh, too bad.' Ebony looked disappointed. ‘Thought you'd rejoined the rat-race! So where are you staying tonight then?'

‘I'm not sure yet,' replied Chris. ‘Thought I'd leave it up in the air.'

‘Well, if you need somewhere to stay, you know you're welcome at my place,' said Ebony. ‘I've got to get up early tomorrow for a fun run over in Parkville, but you can just sleep in. I promise I'll be quiet.'

‘Thanks, Ebony. I might take you up on that.'

‘So then, tell us how it's going.' Janice lit a cigarette deftly with a gold mesh lighter.

Chris eyed the bottle of wine thirstily. ‘First I
need
a drink. Any spare glasses?'

‘Sure.' Annie took a glass off a tin tray resting on the balcony wall and filled it with wine. Then she passed it across. ‘Okay then, tell us all the goss.'

‘I don't know that it's terribly interesting.' Chris took a sip and leant back contentedly. ‘The house is lovely, much bigger than the one I had here. And the work's hard, but sort of rewarding. And the kids absolutely love it.'

‘That's it?' Janice looked unimpressed. ‘No cute farmers?'

‘Unless you count the guy who used to own it. He stayed on for a while to help me out. But he's in his sixties, so I'm not sure he's up to much.'

‘Has he got any sons?'

‘Actually, yes – one. But he's in Sydney.'

‘I suppose you have chicken for tea every night?' asked Ebony with a grimace.

‘Not at all. I think that would be classed as eating the workers. But we
have
changed the whole set-up. See, the farm used to sell only to wholesalers, but it wasn't very profitable. So what we've done is set it up so that we sell direct to the public. Took a lot of work but the woman next door, that's Dot – she's lovely – well, she helped heaps and we've managed to –'

‘Oh good, here comes lunch!' Kim clapped her hands.

‘Tell us all about it later,' suggested Ebony, clearing a few bags off the table to make room. ‘Save it till you have our full attention.'

‘Great idea,' agreed Annie, a bit too eagerly for Chris's liking.

The waiter, a boy who looked about Zoe's age, took an array of delicacies off his tray and set them across the table. There was a distinct Asian flavour today with sushi, and tiny little steamed dim sims, and fried wontons as well as a huge bowl of what looked like steamed vegetables with skewers tucked in the side. As everybody started helping themselves, the new woman leant forward and spoke to Chris with a strong New Zealand accent.

‘Nobody's introduced me. I'm Rose.'

Chris smiled politely. ‘Pleased to meet you.'

‘Hasn't she got the best accent?' asked Kim, of nobody in particular. She turned back to Rose. ‘Go on, say sex.'

‘Six,' said Rose obligingly, with a grin.

‘
Love
it,' laughed Janice.

‘We know.' Ebony shook her head in mock disgust. ‘You keep telling us.'

‘Have you been out here long?' Chris asked Rose.

‘Suxteen years,' replied Rose, refilling her glass. ‘I came out with my husband.'

‘Well, it's better than coming out alone,' said Ebony obliquely.

‘Excipt I'd never have come out uf I'd known he was going to dutch me.'

‘Dutch you?' Janice looked interested for a moment and then nodded as understanding dawned. ‘Oh!
Leave
you. I get it. Bastard.'

‘So how did you meet this lot?' asked Chris, helping herself to a piece of sushi.

‘I work with Kum.'

Silence fell for a few minutes while the women concentrated on eating and topping up their drinks. Leaning forward, Chris stabbed a snow pea with one of the skewers and popped it in her mouth. Janice moved her chair back a bit further and lit another cigarette. Nevertheless, the pungent smoke wafted towards the table and Ebony, after giving Janice a filthy look, waved her hand ostentatiously over the food.

‘So do you lot want to hear more about the farm?' asked Chris brightly, laying the skewer to one side.

‘Absolutely!' said Annie. ‘But first Kim has to finish telling us about her big date.'

‘She'd started before you arrived,' added Ebony apologetically.

‘No problem.' Chris shrugged. ‘Maybe later.'

‘Oh, definitely.'

‘Looking forward to it.'

‘There's actually not much more to tell.' Kim took a strip of Nicorette chewing gum out of her bag and, pressing one out of the foil, popped it into her mouth. ‘It was the worst date
I've had since I was a teenager.'

‘But you'd just got to the part where he said he was going to take you somewhere special.' Janice stubbed her cigarette out and manoeuvred her chair forward.

‘That's right.' Kim looked pensive. ‘He said he'd pick me up at one and to be prepared for a surprise. I thought we were going on a picnic or something. But, no, he took me to the cricket.'

‘The cruckit!' Rose laughed. ‘I bit that was a surprise.'

‘Yep. Apparently it was some match that was incredibly hard to get tickets for –'

‘Sure was,' interrupted Ebony. ‘Australia versus Pakistan. A one-day game.'

‘Well, it was bloody boring. The only highlight was when some bloke streaked down the stands. Stark naked. I thought the woman next to me was going to have a stroke.'

‘Really?' Janice looked impressed. ‘Was he that close?'

Kim, and everybody else, stared at Janice blankly for a moment until her misunderstanding dawned. Kim let out a hearty laugh and Chris grinned to herself.

Annie shook her head. ‘God, Janice. Your mind goes straight to the gutter, doesn't it?'

‘Well, pardon me!' Janice, rather offended, moved her chair back again and reached for her cigarette packet. She lit her smoke and then stared off to the side pointedly.

‘Thin what happined?' Rose asked Kim.

‘Well, I was stuck there all day. Drank warm beer, ate egg sandwiches that he'd brought, and got horribly sunburnt. Then, at the end, he goes: “Now for the second part of your surprise!” So I'm thinking, it can't be worse than this – but I was wrong.'

‘Why? What happened?' asked Annie with a grin.

‘All-you-can-eat,' said Kim darkly. ‘And then mini-golf.'

‘You're kidding.' Ebony started to laugh.

‘Unfortunately, no.'

‘That reminds me of a date I went on last year.' Janice had rejoined the crowd. ‘First this guy picks me up on a motor-bike. He brought a spare helmet no less . . .'

Chris tuned out, not because she didn't find bad dates funny – as long as they happened to someone else – but because she had so many things on her mind that were fighting for precedence at the moment. Like whether the article in the local paper yesterday would make the difference they were hoping for with the egg sales. And how she could properly thank Neil for his thoughtfulness. Or whether Dot's silence yesterday, when she discovered that Chris had been emailing her son, meant that she was less than impressed with their relationship. Not that it was exactly a
relationship
per se – more like a verbal meeting of the minds. Chris smiled slowly and then, suddenly self-conscious, glanced quickly at the others to make sure no-one had noticed. But they were all concentrating on Janice so she returned to her musings.