Novels 01 Blue Skies (2 page)

Chapter 2
2001

Amanda swung the pick, which bounced off the manure that was packed solid under the shearing shed. Despite the cold wind, a thin film of sweat covered her brow and she pulled up the hem of her shirt to wipe it off. There was about fifteen years’ worth of compressed sheep dung and she’d scored the great job of digging it out. There was barely enough room to stand under the shed, let alone swing the pick.

She crawled out on her knees and tried to stand up, gasping in pain as her muscles screamed in protest. With blistered hands she hauled the full barrow out into the open, not seeing a big lump of manure before the barrow hit it, tipping on its side, its contents emptying onto the ground.

‘Bugger!’ Amanda shouted, unable to stop angry tears from spilling down her cheeks as she swept all the manure back into the barrow with her hands. She swiped at the tears, smearing dung over her cheeks, then pushed the laden barrow over to the front-end loader’s bucket, full now from her hours of work. Amanda jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key, before backing carefully out of the sheep yards and heading towards the huge pile of manure that sat on the fenceline bordering the laneway. Hitting the levers that controlled the bucket, she emptied the load onto the mound, then slumped forward, resting her head on the steering wheel. Surely there was more to her life than shovelling shit.

It was now four months since she had to come back to Kyleena to help her dad.The death of her mum hadn’t changed her plans – she’d always wanted, yearned, to come back to the farm – but the homecoming hadn’t been anything like she’d imagined it would be.And her rural exchange plans, to England, were looking more appealing by the day.

Her father had withdrawn into himself, not talking except to issue instructions – and far from being interested in the innovative ideas his daughter had for Kyleena, he had been stubborn and resistant. Last night was a prime example.

After convincing her dad to let her into the office, Amanda had discovered that the computer lacked a security program. When Brian had walked in with a cup of tea for her and wanted to know how she was getting on, Amanda had asked how he stopped viruses getting onto his computer. It was so important to have security to protect the files; it was one of the first things they’d learned at uni, she had told him. His face had darkened and he’d slammed the mug down, sloshing the hot liquid onto the desk, and left the room. Later, Amanda realised that he’d probably thought she was questioning his office ability, implying that he was old and out of touch. She hadn’t meant that at all.

Today, she’d done nothing but think about how she could fix what she had broken. Amanda was sure that her dad wouldn’t let her near the office again, let alone contribute to any of the managerial decisions. So instead of utilising her knowledge of budgets and farm improvements, she was fixing rundown fences, drenching sheep and, today’s glorious job, shovelling sheep shit.

Although she loved her father, her mum had often had to act as mediator between them. Being alike in many ways, there had been occasions when they had locked horns, the worst being when Amanda had decided she wanted to go to ag college. Her father had loudly disagreed, much to her surprise, since he had attended the same college she was applying to. But he maintained that ag college was no place for a woman; the social culture was too rough for
his
daughter.

The two-way suddenly crackled to life.

‘On channel, Mandy?’ her dad’s gruff voice asked through the two-way speaker.

Sighing but not shifting her head, she felt for the two-way receiver and responded.

‘I’m in number one paddock and I’ve just checked the dam,’ he said. ‘It’s getting a bit low and there’s two dead sheep stuck in the mud on the edge. You’ll need to come and pull them out.’

‘Why don’t you do it, since you’re on the spot?’ she demanded, resentment sweeping away her caution. The answering silence stretched into minutes, and finally Amanda drove the front-end loader into the shed, collected a rope and climbed onto her four-wheel motor bike, still fuming as she sped off.

Riding through the open gate into the paddock, Amanda saw her father sitting on the edge of the dam staring at the dead sheep. She could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere. Her gaze shifted to the dead ewes. As far as she could see, he hadn’t even tried to pull the sheep out of the mud himself.

As she approached, he stood up and came towards the bike. Levelling his face with hers, he looked her in the eye. ‘Don’t ever question my instructions on the two-way again! The rest of the district doesn’t need to know what’s going on at our place.You do as I say and no backchat, understand?’ he hissed.

Amanda folded her arms, her face set. ‘Dad, it would have been quicker for you to pull them out than for me to leave what I was doing and come out here.Time efficiency is important on a farm. What I’ve just done isn’t efficient.Time costs money. It’s not that hard a job. Not pleasant, granted, but not hard.’

Brian acted as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Understand?’ he repeated.

‘Yes, Dad,’ she answered sullenly.

As she uncoiled the rope and tied it onto the back carrier, she heard her father walking towards his ute, the gravel crunching underfoot. As he closed the driver’s door, she lifted her head to look at him, and said, ‘Sorry about last night, Dad.’

There was a brief pause as he processed what she had said but then, without speaking, he turned the key in the ignition and drove away.

Staring at the carcasses, tears once again threatening, Amanda suddenly understood that his silence and these sheep were punishment for the night before. And she could see the blame in his eyes every time he looked at her – he thought she’d caused her mother’s death! As if she didn’t feel enough guilt without him heaping it on her. They had been on the way to
her
graduation after all.

Oh, she understood that he was grieving – she was too. But to survive, they had to move on. She knew when she lectured her stony-faced father, he saw her as cold and heartless. If only he could see inside her, see her own overwhelming sadness, then perhaps he would understand that she was trying to cope in her own way by focusing on Kyleena, on their future. But her father wasn’t interested in understanding her it seemed.

Ah well, she needed to get the animals out of the dam before they contaminated the water any further. Fixing the rope around one of the dead sheep’s legs, she rode slowly away, dragging the animal behind the bike. She steered towards a cluster of trees which would become the ewe’s final resting place. Breathing through her mouth to avoid the stench, she unhooked the rope and rode back to the dam to remove the other dead animal.

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, Amanda made her way back to the house. She knew her father would be in his office, listening to the radio and drinking beer. Avoiding her.

As a child, the house had been bright and cheerful, full of laughter and fun. Her mother, Helena, had been a wonderful cook and gardener, as well as working alongside her father and keeping up with her original profession, journalism,by writing an occasional article for the rural papers. Since her death, the garden had grown wild and the house had lost its cosiness. It seemed to understand the occupants were slowly self-destructing.

Pushing open the door of her mother’s study, Amanda was hit by the smell. Finally the room smelled fresh and clean. It was like someone loved it again. When Amanda had first summonsed the courage to open the door, not long after the accident, it had still smelled like her mum. The moisturiser she used, her shampoo and soap. The book she was reading had been on the coffee table and the latest editorial she’d been working on sat unfinished on her desk.

The fragrance had faded over the months and when it had started to smell musty and rank Amanda knew she had to do something. She couldn’t bear leaving her mother’s favourite room to become unloved, so two weeks ago she had moved her computer onto the desk and claimed the area for her own. Her father had watched grimly as she had flung open the curtains, brushed the dust away and set a vase of her Mum’s favourite lavender on the table. He wouldn’t set foot over the threshold, arguing that it was Helena’s space and should be left the way it was.

Amanda hadn’t heeded his wishes, and tonight she opened the window and sat on the soft couch where her mother used to curl up and read on rainy days with her feet tucked up under her, her long, dark, wavy hair tumbling over the couch’s arm.

There was a photo on the desk showing Helena, Brian and a young Amanda in the garden. Amanda could just recall the day it was taken. The drought-breaking rains arrived from nowhere. A fierce storm had swept through, cooling the sweltering day, but it hadn’t fazed her mum, who was clothed in a thin cotton dress. She had danced in the rain, her arms outstretched and face turned towards the heavens as she laughed with joy, with hope. Her dad had run from the shed and taken his wife in his arms and together they’d delighted in the downpour, while their only child had watched from the verandah in wonder.

Fifty-three was too young to die, thought Amanda, tears springing to her eyes. And twenty-two was too young to lose your mum. She buried her head in the cushion, hoping to catch a hint of the fading essence of her mother.

Later that night, Amanda woke from a restless sleep, thirsty. Stumbling out to the kitchen to get a drink of water, she was alarmed by odd noises coming from her dad’s room. She made for the door, but was stopped in her tracks by the sound of gut-wrenching sobs and muttered words. Quietly pushing the door open a crack, she peered in. Standing at the foot of the bed with his back to her was her dad, his shoulders heaving with sobs. He held a photograph of Helena, the silver frame reflecting in the moonlight that filtered through the open curtain.

‘Why, Helena, why? How could this happen after everything we’ve been through? After all we did to stay together? How could you leave me now?’

Chapter 3

A chill cut through the air early in the evening; winter was setting in. Amanda once again retreated to the study to work on the Kyleena production plan that she’d been formulating since coming home. Whenever she had time between finishing her work and returning to the house in the evening Amanda had been slowly rediscovering Kyleena.

In the past six months she’d driven every fence line and walked over every acre of land. She’d checked which dam catchments needed grading so there’d be sufficient water storage throughout the summer, which paddocks needed new fences or pasture renovation and what stock there was. She had ideas about new management strategies that would help increase income but how to get her dad to listen to her was an unanswered question.

Most nights she entered all the notes she’d made onto her computer in order to compile a farm business plan. Even if her father refused to look at it, it was something Amanda had wanted to do ever since she first returned from college. At first she’d updated it and changed it as she learned more about the farm; it had kept her skills fresh and given her work a purpose. But as time passed, her enthusiasm was eroding. She was losing hope.

Looking beyond the computer screen her eyes fell on the dead grass that used to be a lawn. Her mum would’ve been so disappointed to see the garden the way it was now. Jumping up, Amanda went into the garden and looked around. What could she do to make this place look like a home? Did she even want to? Would that make the niggling feeling of wanting to leave and not come back go away? Maybe.

The only things flowering were some red geraniums and a couple of lavender plants. Amanda kneeled down next to the flowerbed and started tugging at weeds that were knee high. After ten minutes she leaned back to survey her work. She’d only managed to clear a patch about a metre wide. Shaking her head at the futility of it all and feeling the need to escape, she jumped up, dusted off her jeans, grabbed her keys and headed over to the old Volkswagen beetle that she’d bought before going to college. She might as well go into town and check her post office box.

Smiling at the familiar VW engine noise, she remembered Hannah and Jonno laughing at her car the first day she had pulled up in the college car park. They had been standing admiring a new ute when Amanda crawled past, trying to find a park amid all the V8s covered in aerials, stickers and shiny hubs. She’d looked at Jonno – his long muscly frame and blond hair – and thought he was the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen. Finding a space, she parked and climbed out, smiling shyly at them.

Jonno had wolf-whistled and started walking over, with Hannah following behind. Amanda, thinking he was whistling at her, blushed when she realised he was intent on her car instead.

‘Hey, hey, we’ve got a seventies babe here, Han,’ Jonno had said, running his hand over the roof.

Amanda had taken a deep breath and stood up with fire in her eyes. ‘Got a problem with that?’ she asked, eyeing Jonno’s tall frame, dark eyes and handsome tanned face.

‘Nah, mate, excellent car. Add a few peace signs and it’ll be perfect. Love the colour. Purple. Did you paint it yourself?’ He grinned at her. Behind him, Hannah rolled her eyes, while making circles with her fingers to indicate Jonno was a bit barmy.

‘Uh-huh,’ Amanda said. ‘And which classy ride might yours be?’

‘Ah, well, if you want to see a ute that will win all the beaut ute comps around Western Australia, madam, come this way,’ he said, sweeping his arm towards the shiny black Holden ute they’d been admiring earlier. The tailgate and back window were covered in stickers and the bullbar was spray-painted a bright pink.

Amanda raised her eyebrows when she saw it – to think he had the balls to bag her car!

‘Is this thing alive?’ she grinned, gesturing at the bullbar. Hannah’s smothered laugh followed her as Amanda made a big deal of approaching with caution, musing,‘Mm, a couple of fluorescent green stripes here and a bright pink flower on the bonnet, in keeping with that bullbar . . .’ She straightened up and looked Jonno in the eye.‘What do you think?’

Hannah and Jonno had both laughed before Jonno leaned towards Amanda and whispered conspiratorially, ‘You know what’s worse? I have to share it with her,’ jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards Hannah. ‘She’s the reason I have a pink bullbar on my ute.’

‘Yeah,’ Hannah said, ‘it’s a bastard having to share with your brother, hey?’

‘You’re brother and sister?’ Amanda asked, amazed and delighted, they didn’t look
anything
alike.

‘We’re twins actually,’ Hannah said, and stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Hannah Mardey and this is Jonno.’

From that first handshake with Jonno, Amanda’s insides had curled with desire; she’d wanted to grab him and hang on. But she and Hannah had quickly become best friends and soon after Amanda had decided she couldn’t make a play for her closest friend’s twin brother. She couldn’t stuff up a great relationship. She was also at college to learn and make the most of her opportunity. That didn’t involve having a distraction – no matter how much she desired him.

Amanda sighed as she slowed on the outskirts of Esperance. She should phone Hannah and have a debrief while she was out. That would cheer her up.

Brian opened another beer and watched the tail-lights of Amanda’s car until she hit the end of the drive and flicked her blinker on. He knew he was being harsh towards her, refusing to listen to her thoughts and ideas, but Helena’s death had robbed him of his interest in life. He didn’t want to hear any of Amanda’s plans. He didn’t want to farm. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to live.

He covered his face with his hands as that awful day replayed itself in his mind, yet again . . .

Brian and Helena had left Kyleena early the morning of Amanda’s graduation, Helena filling a thermos with coffee and making sandwiches for the seven-hour journey. Most of the trip had been spent discussing how they were going to save Kyleena from bankruptcy. Helena had been saying she didn’t think they could afford Amanda’s wages when Brian had suddenly felt so tired and weighed down that he didn’t think he could drive anymore.

He’d gently covered his wife’s mouth with his hand to silence her. Her eyes had been startled at first but he watched as mischief flickered through them and she licked his hand. He’d grinned, thinking how lucky he was to have such a wife and regretfully took his hand away. He’d asked for a cup of coffee from the thermos and she’d undone her seatbelt to reach into the back. He’d watched the curve of her behind as she’d leaned over the back seat and then reached up to smack her bum. He couldn’t remember anything more. Until he had woken up in hospital. Until the doctor had told him Helena was dead.

Brian held his clenched fist to his mouth. If only he hadn’t taken his eyes off the road. If only Amanda had listened to him and not gone to college, they’d never have been on the road that day. If only . . .

Brian went to his filing cabinet and pulled out the mail that had been accumulating there for the last three months. He flicked through it, leaving the myriad bills and letters from the bank unopened. He’d had six letters in the past three months. Then there were the phone messages that the bank manager, Malcolm Mackay, had been leaving. Brian no longer answered the phone, letting all calls go through to the answering machine. And when it was something he couldn’t do anything about, he just deleted the message. He knew he couldn’t go on like this for much longer; the question was how to find the energy to make a decision. With Helena by his side, he could’ve worked out a plan, but now he just didn’t care anymore.

Heaving himself up from the desk, he moved over to the photo on the wall. His mother and father smiled at him and Brian wondered, not for the first time, what they would make of his life now. No wife, nearly bankrupt, with a daughter he had to keep at arm’s length because she kept pushing him, not knowing when to stop.

He knew that Amanda was champing at the bit to take over the farm, but it wasn’t that simple. He was of a generation that had had it instilled that it was the son who managed the farm. He had just about worked through all those feelings, with Helena’s help, when she was killed. Resentment and anger had brought them back. And then there was the fact that she thought she knew everything because she’d had three years of book learning! But where was the practical experience she needed? You couldn’t run a farm without that. Six thousand acres equated to a lot of sheep, cattle and cropping and all of that needed understanding to keep things running well. Even though he loved his daughter, Amanda hadn’t spent enough time at Kyleena to have gained the necessary experience. He knew Helena would have wanted him to encourage Amanda – Helena herself had had some very progressive ideas – but he just didn’t have the energy. It took all the strength he had just to get up every morning and face the day.

Rising, he gathered up the letters from the bank and hid them back in his filing cabinet.Then he locked the door of the office and went into the kitchen to see what Amanda had left him for tea.

Amanda looked at the envelope in her hand. She was pleased she’d come to town. Sitting on the hill just out of Esperance, where she could get mobile reception, she’d spoken with Hannah for half an hour. They’d caught up on all the gossip of college friends, discussed the pros and cons of Hannah’s job as a grain marketer, and talked about Amanda’s arguments with her father and her plans for Kyleena. Hearing her friend’s voice had made the day seem bearable, and she’d been in a much more cheerful frame of mind when she pulled up at the post office to collect her mail.

As well as the usual assortment of farming magazines and junk mail, there was a postcard from Katie, who was now on an agricultural exchange in Ireland and a thick, creamy envelope with a gold emblem on the top left-hand corner bearing a solicitor’s name. Her name was typed in bold black ink and above it, in red were the words
Private & confidential
. Tearing open the envelope she began to read, her eyes widening. Then she began to cry. Her mother had bequeathed Amanda her half of Kyleena.