FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR (39 page)

‘This one belongs to Guneda. But if it’s a good one we’ll keep it. And like I said, I think this is a special one,’ enthused Tango.

‘Ain’t here yet,’ said Mick, stifling a yawn.

At that moment the angular forelegs of the foal appeared, wrapped in a white film of membrane. A short while later the head appeared, lying along its legs, but then all progress stopped. After some time Tango went quietly in to the mare and waited; then, with her next straining heave, he grasped the
forelegs above the fetlocks and pulled downwards, easing the foal from the birth passage. Dennis’s face was full of joy. ‘Wow!’ he breathed.

Tango freed the air passages and mouth, slipped a flat brown object from the foal’s mouth and stepped away, leaving the mare and foal to separate themselves as nature intended.

He joined Mick and Dennis as the mare whinnied in delight and began licking her foal. Later they watched the foal wobble to its feet and instinctively feel its way along its mother’s flank to find the udder.

‘It’s a beauty,’ whispered Dennis, emotion shining in his eyes.

‘Bloody oath,’ agreed Mick with a big grin.

Tango looked at the tiny foal whose coat had the same red-gold gleam of its mother but had a pure white mane and tail, and on its forehead a small white star.

‘I think a beer’s in order to celebrate,’ declared Tango.

While Mick helped Dennis into his wheelchair, Tango slipped back into the stall and scooped up the brown liverish milt that had been in the foal’s mouth to prevent water entering during birth. He’d never seen one before and he knew according to country legend it was supposed to bring great luck if dried and placed on the roof of the stable. He decided it was an omen.

Stepping out into the dawn light Tango caught up with Mick pushing Dennis’s wheelchair. ‘You remember this night, Denny, I
reckon we’ve seen a Melbourne Cup winner born.’ Mick and Dennis nodded. They wouldn’t forget this night.

The following day the vet came and checked Royal Robes and her foal, declaring all was in order and agreeing the little colt had star quality.

With his mind at ease about the foal and Guneda in general, Tango told Mum Ryan he’d be off again.

The old housekeeper looked disappointed. ‘You flit about like a flutterbye; I miss having you and TR about the place. But those boys will keep me company. That young Denny is a nice lad. Starting to come out of his shell now.’

‘Good. I knew you’d start to mother-hen him . . . and, Mum Ryan, its flit by like a butterfly . . . Where’d you get flutterbye from?’

‘From my granny and she’s right, that’s what they do — flutter by you.’

Tango shook his head. ‘I never had a granny to teach me such important facts of life.’

‘That’s what grannies are for. I wish you’d settle down and start a family yourself. We could do with some youngsters round here.’

‘Make do with Dennis, he’s not even eighteen. It’ll be a while before I find the right girl.’

‘You don’t have to try ’em all out before you choose one,’ called Mum Ryan to Tango as he headed for his suite along the verandah.

Tango laughed but in his heart he wondered if he might have found the right girl after all.

Queenie chose her moment to suggest to TR that they sit on the verandah so she could
outline her wool plan to him. She handed him a cup of tea and he smiled at her warmly, a faint hint of amusement in his bright blue eyes.

‘I feel as if I’m a board of investment bankers,’ he grinned.

Queenie returned his smile, a glow lighting up her face. She had always loved discussing things with TR. They’d shared everything and she missed the close communication between them. As always TR listened attentively, asking pertinent questions. Together they went through the structure of Tingulla Wool and Leather Enterprises, its goals, financing, and future function.

‘It’s ridiculous that most of Australian wool is exported offshore to be processed,’ sighed Queenie as they finished their tea.

TR gave her a shrewd glance. ‘You should push the government to set up a super mill. Then we could churn out masses of woolies, like jumpers and blankets, from our raw wool rather than importing back our own wool as processed goods.’

‘I just might do that,’ laughed Queenie. ‘The wool people do their best, but maybe they need someone to head a committee and make a few moves in that direction.’

‘I wouldn’t be game enough to say no to you,’ grinned TR. ‘So whatever you want me to do, just say.’

‘Oh, I will. And I welcome any input. This is a Tingulla enterprise.’ Although TR was unaware of their past closeness, this talk had brought them closer and it gave Queenie a
renewed sense of hope and excitement that they could recover the lost ground between them. But the feeling didn’t last long. Queenie looked up with a flash of annoyance to see Jenni walking along the verandah towards them carrying a glass of water.

TR smiled, ‘Pill time, I can tell’.

Jenni was wearing a short skirt and stretch-knit T-shirt, her blonde hair tied up in two bunches above each ear. She looked pert and sexy in a little girl sort of a way. She handed TR the water and two capsules in a small plastic cup. ‘Excuse me, TR, but it’s time for your massage and we have a new hurdle today.’

TR swallowed the pills. ‘God, what fresh hell have you cooked up now?’ he asked, smiling at her.

Queenie glanced at them both, feeling like she was suddenly invisible. ‘I’ll leave you to it. See you later.’ She walked angrily away.

‘What are we doing then?’ persisted TR, anxious for any new challenge that helped him progress.

‘Tackling the stairs.’

‘Oh, I see. Righto, you’re the boss.’

‘And depending on how we go this week, we might ditch the crutches and use just a cane.’ TR sighed. ‘Then I’ll only look like a semiinvalid.’

‘Now TR,’ admonished Jenni, ‘I thought you’d be pleased. Come on, back to work.’ She held out her hands; TR grasped them and allowed her to pull him out of the chair. He reached for his crutches and followed her
inside. Jenni looked over her shoulder. ‘We’ll do some limbering exercises first,’ she said and smiled warmly.

Queenie shut the door of her office and resisted the impulse to kick the wastepaper basket across the room. Seeing TR and Jenni together reinforced the bond they shared and the gap between him and herself. Jenni was very professional with TR — in front of Queenie anyway — so she couldn’t criticise her for any breach of ethics. But the confident young woman made Queenie feel insecure. Jenni exuded health and energy and a fresh sexiness that threatened Queenie’s sense of her own femininity and attractiveness. TR, who had always sworn undying love, had rejected her. No matter what reasons there were for this, it didn’t make the pain any less and she felt herself sinking into depression again.

She laughed bitterly to herself. All those people who thought Queenie Hamilton had it all and was unconquerable wouldn’t believe how she was feeling now. She couldn’t believe it herself. ‘Oh TR, please come back to me,’ she murmured aloud. ‘Until you do, neither of us will be whole again.’

Several hours later there was a tap at Queenie’s door. She put down her pen and rubbed her eyes. ‘Come in,’ she called, thinking it was Millie with a welcome cup of tea.

Tea had arrived but it was Tango who came in with the tray, kicking the door shut behind him. Tea’s served, madame.’

‘Tango! What a glorious surprise!’ As he slid
the tray on her desk Queenie rushed around to give him a hug. She held him tightly. ‘Oh, you don’t know how pleased I am to see you.’

Tango pulled away and gazed into Queenie’s strained face and sad eyes. ‘Yes I do. That’s why I came.’

Queenie pushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. ‘You knew I was down, didn’t you?’

‘I figured you might like to dump your feelings on me. I know you used to share stuff with Sas but she’s got her own thing going. And, well, for a whole lot of reasons, even with my youthful male perspective, I thought you might like to talk or just have a shoulder to cry on, or a head to box. Whatever.’

Queenie felt tears well in her eyes as she looked up into his face, the same azure blue eyes as TR’s, the same lopsided grin. But Tango had a lot of Queenie’s spirit in him and she knew they communicated on some inner level without always needing words. The son she’d been forced to give up as a baby had been returned to her and now she saw him as a man.

‘I always thought you’d be my boy, I could see myself telling you how to brush your teeth when you were forty. But now I see you as my best bloke friend. And I have this feeling no matter what I do you’ll be there to help me along.’

‘That’s always been the case, Mum,’ he said softly.

‘Oh, I know,’ said Queenie brushing away a tear, ‘but I always thought of you as my child, that I had to look after you. Now I feel you can look after me. Oh gosh, does that make me
sound like an old lady? I’m feeling so wretched. I’m losing my looks, I feel rejected, I feel threatened, I feel so . . . unwanted.’

‘You are in a bad way,’ said Tango as he poured the tea and Queenie slumped onto the leather sofa.

‘Do you suppose I’m having a midlife crisis?’ asked Queenie glumly.

‘I dunno. But there are perfectly good reasons for you to feel the way you do.’

‘I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better,’ sighed Queenie, sipping the tea.

‘Look, we all know why TR isn’t relating to you — you present a challenge and a threat to him.’

‘How? I’ve tried to be nonjudgemental and not to put any pressure on him,’ said Queenie despairingly.

‘But the pressure is still there. You come with the baggage of a past together that he doesn’t remember. That sets up expectations he doesn’t know how to handle.’

‘Whereas Jenni is unencumbered,’ said Queenie harshly.

‘Yes. He remembers everything about their relationship, it’s just started. She has been there for him and with him during some tough times, he’s exposed himself to her in a way he wouldn’t want you or any of the family to see. He’s wept, he’s got angry, he’s fallen over, and she’s held him up — physically and emotionally. It’s natural there should be a very close bond between them.’

‘It doesn’t stop it hurting me though,’ added Queenie in a small voice.

Tango reached out and touched Queenie’s knee. ‘But you can’t fight it either, Mum. The more you try to move close to TR the further away you’re pushing him.’

‘So what do I do then? Nothing? Just stand back and watch him fall in love with a woman young enough to be his daughter. Where does that leave me?’ Tears splashed down her face.

Tango didn’t answer for a second as he struggled to cover his confusion. Surely his mother had misinterpreted the relationship between Jenni and his father. Taking a deep breath he reached for the tea pot and topped up their cups, saying, ‘I would say Jenni has gotten more involved with Dad than she normally would because he’s her only patient and they’re living under the same roof. She told me a special bond develops between her and all her patients. She represents their security, their safety, their hope for getting well. And maybe she could be a bit infatuated with him,’ he added slowly. ‘Dad is TR Hamilton after all — handsome with a great sense of humour, and a strength of character and sensitivity that any woman would fall for.’

‘Great,’ mocked Queenie. ‘Go on. Is this supposed to be making me feel better?’

Tango tried to smile. ‘Listen, Mum, let me tell you how to handle this from the male’s point of view. I speak from vast experience here of course,’ he grinned.

‘So what do I do?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? Just stand back and watch Jenni entice TR into her own life?’

‘Don’t give Jenni unscrupulous motives, Mum, she’s not a scheming girl.’

‘She must be something, now even you’re defending her!’ Queenie flared.

‘Settle down, Mum,’ said Tango patiently. And suddenly Queenie laughed ruefully. Here was Tango being the placating adult to a recalcitrant child. Tango continued, ‘Like I said, you just get on with your life and take it one day at a time and for once let matters take their own course. You’re going to have to trust the angels on this one. If you and TR are meant to be, you will be. If it means you both start over again, you’ll have to slowly rebuild what you had. If it means you both start a new life apart, then that’s what has to be.’

‘No, I won’t accept that.’

‘What choice do you have, Mum?’ asked Tango gently. ‘You can’t force TR to love you.’

Queenie pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘You’re right I suppose. Not that I like it. I tell you what though, if those two really did get together, I’d feel pretty insecure if I were them. What if TR woke up one morning in bed with Jenni and his memory came back? What then? You know it could happen any time.’

‘Then I wouldn’t want to be in either of their shoes,’ said Tango with a grin. ‘So don’t worry about it. Fate will sort it out. Move ahead with your wool project. It’s all looking very good, I hear.’

‘Yes, the man I talked to about the fellmongery tried his technique out on some of the merino hides and it works brilliantly — no
chemicals, no pollutants. Come and I’ll show you the skins. It’d make a fabulous jacket for you.’