Puppy Pie (6 page)

‘Come on,' Gull says, ignoring her cousin's bitter remark. ‘Let's take these eggs back and see what else they want us to do.' Together, they walk back to the kitchen, the Harvesters now tiny, red specks in the distance.

For the rest of the morning, Helen organises Gull and her cousins in packing and freezing sandwiches for the week ahead, filling empty flasks with tea or coffee, feeding Jam, the horses and the various working dogs and cats around the farm. As the dogs round up and guard the sheep, the cats stealthily set about finding rats or mice.

‘All done,' Tom says as he stands in the puppy pen while Gull sits stroking Jam who is contentedly purring in her arms.

‘What's next?'

‘Well, Mum says, if you want to, I can saddle up Trixie and Dot and we can take them out for a gallop. If you can ride, that is,' he adds cheekily.

‘Of course I can ride! I go to pony camp every chance I get.'

‘Oh, that's great!' Tom says, coming alive. ‘That means we can go off riding lots of times while you're here. There are some beaut spots to explore, like down near the creek, and up in the hills. We could take a picnic lunch with Lucy and Jake. Or maybe camp out overnight.'

Gull laughs at Tom. ‘I thought you said there was nothing to do. See? There's lots of things to do.'

‘Yeah, suppose you're right,' Tom shrugs. ‘I guess it's not until someone new turns up that you remember the fun things.'

‘We can be tourists together,' Gull suggests as Jam jumps out of her arms. Gull stands up and stretches. ‘Let's go and saddle up.'

‘Yeah, we've still got time before lunch,' Tom says as they walk through the shed, pushing through the rusting door and out to the stables at the back. In the stalls as they enter, Gull sees four beautiful horses. The two ponies, Trixie and Dot, brown and beige, jostle as they see Tom.

‘Ready for a run, girls?' Tom asks as he grabs the first saddle and puts it on Trixie's back.

Gull lifts up the second one and does the same with Dot who is sniffing her and neighing softly. Gull looks around: feed containers are full to the brim with oats. The four stalls are well worn but clean, and the horses' grooming brushes are on a shelf in the corner above their blankets.

‘Who owns those two?' Gull asks pointing towards a mare and stallion further along the wall.

‘Mum's got the stallion, Brutus, and Dad has the mare. Her name's Velvet.'

‘Shouldn't it be the other way around?' Gull enquires.

‘Yeah, you'd think so,' Tom says, slipping the bridle over Trixie's ears. ‘But Velvet's got more go, and Brutus is getting on a bit now. He's pretty tame. Come on, Trixie,' Tom says, leading the pony gently out of her stall. Gull does the same. ‘We can take them for a gallop by the river,' he suggests as he pulls himself into the saddle.

‘I'll follow you,' she says. Then both mares start to canter thrilled to be free of the stables.

Tom and Gull gallop to the top of a grassy hill. While Tom points to the meandering river below, Trixie and Dot munch on the grass at their feet. ‘We'll let the horses stand in the water when we get down there: they love it. Come on.'

Gull can only see glimpses of the river as the sun hits the water. As they approach the riverbank, she can see that on both sides of the banks are tall, leaning gums, flowering yellow wattle back further and the occasional ancient willow tree. Cantering down, Trixie and Dot wend their way to the familiar water waiting patiently as Gull and Tom slide off their backs so they can stand in the cool, clear liquid. The cousins take off their boots and, rolling up their jeans, wade into the river.

‘Ooh! So cold,' Gull squeals while Tom laughs.

‘This'll cool you down even more,' he laughs as he playfully splashes her. In no time, their jeans and t-shirts are soaked. ‘Don't worry, Gull,' Tom grins. ‘By the time we ride home, we'll be bone dry.' The cousins climb out onto the bank and sit on a fallen log.

‘I never asked what you want to do when you leave school,' Tom says.

Gull is silent for a while. ‘I don't really know. Maybe be a computer programmer or a vet or start my own business doing something no one else is doing.' She shrugs. ‘It's a big question.'

Tom nods, both staring into space happy to be doing nothing.

Some time later, Tom and Gull hear the kitchen bell ringing and mounting reluctantly, turn their horses' heads for home.

‘We've got fifteen minutes to get there,' Tom says as he races off ahead of Gull. In no time, they're racing neck and neck, the horses racing for home and some oats.

Exhilarated, Tom and Gull dismount in front of the big shed and lead their horses around the back to the stables. Putting a light blanket over each of them as they cool down, Gull and Tom race each other to the kitchen.

Except for Lucy, Jake, Helen and Shirley, who are already eating, the kitchen is deserted.

Washing her hands at the sink, Gull asks ‘Where is everyone?' then sits down between Helen and Shirley.

‘Gone home,' Helen answers stifling a yawn. ‘Everyone's only here for the mornings to top up the supplies. We should be right for tomorrow with Shirley's help,' she adds.

‘I'll be here early,' Shirley says as she hands Gull a plate of salad. ‘I'll come over with Ted and invite myself for breakfast.'

‘You know you're always welcome,' Helen smiles as she pours the tea.

‘After lunch, I want to show Gull the vegetable garden.' Jake turns to his cousin. ‘Maybe you could help me with some weeding. Then we can pick whatever Mum wants for dinner.'

‘Yeah! Yum,' Gull says as she takes a mouthful of lamb, tomato and lettuce.

‘Our very own lettuce and tomato,' Lucy exclaims proudly. ‘Grew them ourselves.'

‘Wow!' Gull says as she takes another bite of the cucumber with lemon balm and dill dressing.

‘And the herbs,' Lucy adds.

‘Grew everything from seed,' Shirley nods. ‘Helen and I get the seeds from the Diggers' Club, all original. None of your hybrid stuff for us thank you very much. Then we hand them over to Lucy who plants and grows them. And to help her even more,' she says briskly, picking up a small crunchy carrot, ‘we invite ourselves over and eat them.' She laughs and the others laugh with her.

All except Helen, who is busy yawning. ‘Oh, sorry,' Helen says apologetically. ‘I don't know what's come over me. I can't stop yawning.'

‘Can't be the company,' Shirley says. ‘We're as funny as a circus of fleas. Or maybe,' she adds conspiratorially, ‘that's the problem. You're exhausted from all the laughing. It couldn't be the hard work: we're all used to that. Excluding Gull, and she's holding up really well,' she says, winking at Gull.

‘Maybe you should lie down for a bit, Mum,' Jake says gently. ‘We can clear up here.'

‘Oh, no, I'm sure …' The next minute, Helen's head drops onto the table, a second after Lucy has jerked her cup of tea away. Everybody else looks up startled.

‘Mum?' Lucy asks worried.

Shirley stands up and comes over to Helen. Gently, she shakes Helen awake. ‘Think you'd better lie down,' Shirley says and, helping Helen up, firmly steers her towards the main bedroom. A few minutes later, Shirley returns, a frown on her normally sunny face.

‘Is Mum alright?' Tom asks. Shirley looks around at the children's faces, a look of concern on each one.

‘I think she's just overdone it. You know what she's like,' she says as breezily as she can. ‘If your father's worried about anything, she takes on all his worries. Or if there's any trouble in the air, she picks up on it faster than anyone. And it ends up affecting her before anyone else: she's that psychic.' The four worried faces watching her still look worried. ‘Oh, I'm sure it's nothing that a good lie down won't cure. She'll be right by dinner time, mark my words.' She smiles encouragingly at the four anxious faces. ‘Now, who's for another cuppa?'

Chapter 4

After scavenging for crumbs
under the table at lunch, Useless trots up the stairs to the Folly. As usual, Useless lies down in his favourite spot. Tiny dark specks leap into the air. Once again, the ancient Mite family lands on the windowsill. Ma, the matriarch, jumps closer to the window, using the window like a magnifying glass.

‘Sound,' Ma mumbles.

‘What sound?' Max asks, her protector always by her side. Ma never lets on that she needs no protection.
He's a good, boy, if thick.

‘Not sound,' she says morosely. ‘Vibration.'

‘A vibe?' Cha-Cha asks excitedly, inching closer, her miniscule body already swaying. ‘Vibes? Like dancing?' she asks hopefully.

Ma mentally rolls her non-existent eyes. ‘No,' she says sharply, mentally slapping Cha-Cha into line. Instantly, Cha-Cha stops dancing.

‘Humming.' Ma says shortly.

Cha-Cha moves closer but more timidly this time. ‘Like singing?' she asks. She cringes, waiting for another slap.

‘Yes. Could be. Like singing,' Ma answers softly. Ma's voice is almost a caress. Cha-Cha breathes a sigh of relief. ‘Cha-Cha, come here.' Ma mentally pushes Max out of the way, Cha-Cha taking his place. ‘Can you sense that vibration?'

Cha-Cha listens intently, eager to please Ma. ‘Sorry,' she says crestfallen. ‘Can't feel or hear it from here.' She waits for a slap. It doesn't come.

‘Where is it?' Ma mentally crawls over the back of Useless, taking Cha-Cha with her. ‘Now can you hear that humming or singing or whatever it is?'

Cha-Cha listens. ‘Only faintly, Ma.'

‘What is it?' Ma asks.

‘It's too faint,' Cha-Cha says after a moment. ‘It's almost as if …'

‘Yes?'

‘It's as if something's been crawling around on Useless but it isn't now.'

‘Just what I was thinking,' Ma mumbles. ‘Good work,' she adds belatedly.

Cha-Cha glows with pride.

‘But now, we have to go and find the real thing: see where it's moved. That's enough for now,' Ma says decisively to her brood. ‘Get ready.' With that, she shifts her small, black body and jumps. Following her lead, the other mites jump back onto Useless who whimpers slightly, stands up and pads downstairs.

* * *

By the end of the week, three-quarters of Harry's farm has been harvested. Over a strong cup of tea in the early morning, Harry says to Ted and Jimmy, ‘Listen fellas, I reckon I can knock the rest of this crop over on my own.' The three of them are standing together outside the big shed, their bright red Harvesters glowing faintly in the rays of the rising sun.

‘Yeah?' Jimmy asks.

‘Yeah. I reckon things have gone so smoothly that you may as well take the Harvesters and move on to the other farms. I'll just clean up here and knock the rest of the crop down flat by the end of this week. Then I'll go help the other farmers.'

‘You sure?' Ted asks.

‘Yep. No worries.' Harry stares up into the milky blue, searching for clouds. ‘The weather is holding up really well: no rain for another couple of weeks, they're saying. And the baling's coming along too.' The three of them automatically turn towards the sheds in the distance. Already, the place is buzzing even though it's just after seven, the locals are so eager to get the job done properly. Harry waves and gets an answering wave from one of the new arrivals. ‘They'll be baling now that the hemp's sorted out. And we'll be sending off the first load by the end of the day, and then more tomorrow.'

‘What a smooth operation,' Jimmy says pleased. ‘No machinery breaking down for a change.'

‘We're a long way from finishing,' Ted reminds him dryly. He drains his mug of tea and puts the mug on Harry's Harvester.

‘Mind you,' Harry says, ‘I envy you those cabins on the Harvesters. I'm out in all weathers while you two sit up there as if you're in your lounge rooms.'

Both Jimmy and Ted give Harry a huge grin: they know how much more comfortable they are.

‘Well, we'll get going then,' Ted says, ‘now that we know you're jealous,' he grins. ‘I'll head over to the Davies's place.'

‘And I'll head out to Carlton's,' Jimmy says.

‘And at the end of all of this,' Harry states, ‘we'll have one big party that'll take forever to end.'

‘You're on,' Jimmy and Ted say together as they climb onto their Harvesters and head back out the way they'd come a week ago.

Harry strolls back towards the kitchen and through the screen door. Helen, Shirley and the children are still having breakfast. Harry puts the three mugs in the sink. Then he sits down at the table and pours himself another cup of tea.

‘What've you done with my husband and Jimmy?' Shirley asks. ‘Don't they get another cuppa?'

‘Nope. Saving on tea leaves,' Harry chuckles. They all laugh, knowing how many litres of tea the men drink all day. ‘We've decided they can start on the other farms. I'll finish up the Folly on my own. It's only another hundred hectares to do, the ones closest to the house. And closest to the tea supply,' he winks. ‘Actually,' he says quietly, ‘that was my plan all along: to do a quick sprint back to the house every hour for a refill.'

‘Dad,' Tom groans. ‘You never stop, do you?'

‘I thought you liked my sense of humour,' Harry exclaims pretending to be surprised.

‘You're so weak, Dad,' Tom says getting up and giving his father a playful punch on the arm.

‘A bit like this tea,' Harry grins into his mug. ‘What about a fresh brew while you're up, Tom?'

Just then, Shirley happens to glance over at Helen: she's yawning. Thinking quickly in case Harry sees Helen falling asleep, Shirley gets up hurriedly and grabs his thermos. Shirley thinks to herself,
Can't have Harry worrying about Helen's sleepiness: he's got enough on his plate, what with the harvest and all the other farmers. I'll have to keep working this out with the kids.