Authors: Fiona McCallum
Jessica found herself muttering her thanks to the friendly shop assistant and going back out into the street to look at the range of mobiles hanging in the front window. She stared at the shapes and bright colours, thinking about what was going on at home. Had it happened yet? Had she made the right decision in not being there and saying proper goodbyes? Had she made the right decision, full stop?
She was distracted by Steve's presence beside her, his arm draped around her shoulder. He held a brown paper carry bag out to her with a gentle half-smile. Jessica frowned and wanted to hand the bag back, tell him she thought buying baby things would be bad luck â clearly they hadn't been of the one mind after all â but his nod of encouragement made her take a cautious look inside.
She drew out a plush, chocolate brown bear and hugged it to her. It was all she could do not to burst into tears. Bless him. She smiled sadly at him before touching his shoulder. If she hadn't been on crutches, she would have thrown her arms around him. Steve carefully hugged her, the bear between them.
âHe's gorgeous. Thank you,' she murmured into his shoulder as her husband stroked her hair. They broke apart and Jessica reluctantly placed the bear back into the carry bag and handed it to Steve. As much as she could feel the bear's comfort flooding through her and didn't want to let him go, a grown woman clutching a bear in the middle of the main street of a country town was sure to raise eyebrows.
Jessica was exhausted and nodded off a few times on the drive home. She hadn't spent so long on her crutches before and now she seemed to ache all over. The pain was quite dull, and while she knew she could do with only half the recommended dose of medication she liked her emotional pain being masked too. She'd take a full dose when they got home.
Tiffany's ute was beside the house as they drove onto their property. She emerged and greeted Steve with a sombre âHi,' and a quick peck to the cheek before wrapping her arms around Jessica.
âThank you for everything. You've no idea,' Jessica croaked before she burst into tears. Tiffany erupted too and the two women clung to each other.
After a few moments Jessica pulled away and wiped her face as she bent to pat the dogs, who had appeared beside them.
âAre you okay?' Tiffany asked, full of concern.
âI'm fine,' Jessica replied heavily. âI'll be fine.'
Tiffany stayed for a cuppa, but it was clear to Jessica that she wanted to be elsewhere. Fair enough, it must have been a fairly harrowing day for her as well â not to mention all the negotiating she must have been doing this past week.
As Steve saw Tiffany out, she said, âShould show up in the account by tomorrow â if not, let me know.'
That night Jessica went to bed with a heart so heavy she thought she might never be able to get out of bed again. But her conscience was relatively clear. Steve had filled her in on some of the details from Tiffany: both horses had gone to a wonderful stable â horse people Jessica had a lot of respect for. She knew that hearing about them doing well, or not, would wrench at her, but for now this was good news in bleak circumstances. She wasn't sure why, but she was pleased Sharon Parks wasn't Prince and Beau's new owner.
Jessica pushed through her tiredness and broken heart to again make love with Steve. The whole time she felt hollow, not comforted at all despite enjoying the feel of them entwined. But she kept her mind on the prize: planting the seed for a baby, a distraction, a new life. She hated herself for her dishonesty and almost wept when Steve went out to get them a glass of water. But she had to toughen up; the last thing she needed was to bring Steve down as well.
The week passed slowly for Jessica. Gradually she and Steve were settling into a new routine: she inside the house amusing herself and doing whatever chore she could manage, and Steve doing everything else. At least now he was free to concentrate on running the farm again without the added burden of the horses.
Jessica spent most of the days trying not to look out the window at the paddocks where Prince and Beau had grazed, nor across at the purpose-built stable, feed and tack shed that housed the horse float. Steve quite often used the float for moving stock, so it would stay on the property as a constant reminder. She knew she'd have to face sorting through all the remaining rugs and grooming gear â a veritable mountain accumulated and inherited over her and her parents' lifetimes â and do some culling one day. Folding up her breeches from the dressage competition and adding them to her drawer of riding clothes had nearly done her in. She'd said she'd keep all her gear, but she hadn't really meant it. She had just wanted to appease everyone â have a bit of an each-way bet. If only Tiffany was the same size, she could have had it easily dealt with. Tiffany had helped by taking the feed for her own horses, so that was one less thing to think about.
She really had to start bucking up. But not today â today she was going into town with Steve and, while he pushed the grocery trolley up and down the supermarket aisles, she was going to pop into the haberdashery shop that sold wool and knitting supplies. She'd seen all the DVDs she wanted to, completed enough jigsaws to last a lifetime, and couldn't seem to concentrate on reading for long. She'd decided knitting might be the answer to staving off the boredom that threatened with each new morning. She'd marked the day she was due to get her plaster off on the calendar and each night she put a cross through the day just finished. Only twenty-six sleeps to go. Only! It seemed like a lifetime away. Meanwhile she would try knitting â not baby things, just some simple projects to learn and practise with. She'd decided on a scarf for Steve, and then one for her â she might have them done by the time winter came around again in eight months.
They had just parked and got out and were ready to go their separate ways when Jessica heard her name called. She turned around to find one of her pupils coming towards them.
âJessica, wait up,' the girl said, waving her arm.
âHi, Molly.'
âSorry to hear about your accident. How's the leg?'
âThanks. Getting there. How's school?'
âSchool's school,' Molly said with a loose shrug. âHey, when can I start having lessons again? Tiny's been doing great.'
âThat's good to hear, but sorry, Molly, I won't be able to instruct you anymore.'
âOh. But why? It's only a broken ankle, right? I heard you'd sold Prince and Beau, but that won't stop you instructing â why would it?'
âI've given up riding altogether.'
âBut instructing isn't riding â well, it doesn't have to be.'
Lost for anything more to say â what was there to say? â Jessica just shook her head and frowned.
âBut you're the best instructor I've ever had,' Molly wailed.
âI'm sorry. And it's lovely of you to say, but I'm sure â¦' Jessica wanted the ground to swallow her up. This girl with her open face marred by confusion and disappointment, standing there in the street, on the verge of tears was heart-wrenching.
âWhat about not giving up when it gets a bit hard?' Molly pleaded. âThat's what you're always saying.'
âI know. And I'm sorry, Molly, I really am.'
âWhy? That's what I don't understand,' Molly said, her bottom lip quivering. She turned and fled down the street, leaving Jessica feeling helpless and very guilty, on the verge of tears herself. She wondered why too. Damn being so emotionally fragile! Steve put his arm around her and she leant in, grateful for his comforting embrace. They broke apart and turned when Jessica's name was called again.
âJessica! I hope you're happy â you've broken my little girl's heart.' Big, burly Tom Baines, Molly's father, strode towards them.
Oh shit. People in the street stopped talking and turned to stare in their direction. Jessica felt her face and neck flush.
âDad, don't,' Molly pleaded quietly, blushing a bright shade of beetroot. She hung her head and stared at her feet as she twisted them back and forth, the stance every embarrassed teenage girl had down pat.
âI'm sorry, Tom,' Jessica said.
âNot sorry enough to continue instructing her, though, are you? You know she's been in tears all week? Hope you're happy.'
â
Dad
.'
Jessica looked down at her own feet.
âNo, thought not. Selfish, that's what you are,' he said, pointing an angry finger at her.
âHey, now come on, mate,' Steve said, stepping in front of the man, who practically dwarfed him. âThat's not fair. Jessica's going through a really tough time.'
âIt's all right, Steve,' Jessica said, putting her hand on his arm.
âCome on, Dad, let's just go, pleeeease,' Molly said, tugging at her father's arm.
âOne day when you have kids, maybe you'll understand,' Tom said over his shoulder as he let Molly pull him down the street.
Jessica nearly crumbled at the look Molly shot her: a cross between white-hot hatred and sympathy. Thankfully everyone else in the street had returned to their business.
âWow,' Steve said. âI didn't see that coming.'
âNo,' was all Jessica could say. She was shaking so much she had to lean on the bull bar of their four-wheel drive for extra support.
âAre you okay?'
She nodded, and was just opening her mouth to speak when another voice cut in, this one old and scratchy.
âI never thought I'd hear about the daughter of Jeff Collins giving up so easily. Unbelievable. And gutless. Thought you were made of sterner stuff, my girl.'
Jessica closed her mouth and stared, stunned, at the old man as he drove past on his motorised scooter. He was one of the old pony club stalwarts she'd known since she was a toddler. He and her father had butted heads many times.
âGood to see you too, Bill,' she finally managed, but he was long gone.
âJesus,' Steve said, running a hand through his hair. âSorry, I was a bit useless, but I was too shocked to speak. What is wrong with people?'
âNothing you could have done. So, shall we get on?'
âIf you're still up to it.'
âAbsolutely,' Jessica said, a lot more enthusiastically than she felt. She needed to stay true to her form of putting on a strong façade, regardless of how she actually felt.
The woman in the haberdashery store, which Jessica had never set foot in before, seemed very excited when Jessica told her she'd like some advice on knitting when she had the time â the store was surprisingly busy. Jessica was happy to wait and take some minutes to try to pull herself together; she was still feeling shaken. How embarrassing to have been accosted like that in the street with the whole town watching! Her mother would have had kittens. At least she was too shocked for any tears to form. Really, what business was it of anyone's how she lived her life? She did feel kind of guilty about letting Molly down, but it wasn't like the kid had been with her long term â she'd only had around a dozen lessons. And she was easy enough to work with â she'd find another instructor she liked. Maybe even one day it might be Jessica, but not right now. She felt terrible about letting anyone down, but when it came to her students it couldn't be helped. She needed to have a new, totally different focus now. Well, that's what she was telling herself.
Gradually the shop emptied. Each person had nodded and smiled hello and she'd replied in the same fashion. She particularly liked that not one of them spoke to her. Finally it was Jessica's turn to be served. She put the knitting needles and yarn she'd chosen on the counter and chatted with the woman ringing up her purchase about her plans for the scarf. The woman showed Jessica how to cast on and knit a few stitches, though Jessica didn't really think she had the hang of it. She'd go to the YouTube tutorials she'd found when she got home and watch them again, though she promised the saleswoman she'd come back for advice if she ran into trouble. She felt quite good about being at least a little informed.
She handed over her debit card for processing, barely taking in the rather large total of her purchases.
Gosh, no wonder everyone buys acrylic, made-in-China jumpers.
But she didn't really care about the cost, she just wanted to get home before anyone else bailed her up.
*
Following lunch, Jessica settled in with her knitting, only having to tell the dogs twice not to touch her wool after she'd caught them looking playfully at the ball that had dropped from her lap and run a short distance across the floor. For dogs that didn't play games like fetch and didn't even own tennis balls, they were showing far too much interest in chasing her wool. After being told, âNo. Sit. Leave it,' the well-trained dogs had lain either side of the ball with their heads on their paws, eyeing it, clearly waiting for the object to move.
Jessica took pity on them and brought the ball of wool back up to her lap.
Now that she was actually knitting, she wasn't sure it was the distraction she'd been looking for. She'd got the hang of the plain stitch â sticking the needle in the right spot, pushing it through, wrapping the yarn around it, and slipping the loop over the end of the other needle, and doing it all again â she didn't have to concentrate too much and her mind was beginning to wander ⦠to her students. She'd enjoyed instructing, would really miss them and seeing their improvement week after week. Her thoughts drifted on, settling on Prince and Beau and how they were faring. Hopefully they were coping better with it all than she was. Far too often her stomach would clench and a ball of sadness would engulf her, tears threatening. While she knew she was putting on a good front, the truth was she felt like she was dying inside. Not unlike losing her parents all over again, but at the one time.
She couldn't tell Steve; all she could do was keep up with her façade and hope she'd soon start to get over it. If she opened up about her feelings, he'd track down the horses and get them back. And now they'd used a big chunk of the money â which had come through as promised â for stockpiling feed, that option was gone. And she'd never be able to choose Prince over Beau if it came to that. Anyway, it wouldn't be fair on the new buyer, and she'd be putting her reputation as a fair person to deal with in jeopardy. Not that that really mattered now she was no longer in the horse world.