The Sunnyvale Girls (9 page)

‘No, I'm not.' But right now avoiding Maggie sounded like a great idea.

‘I wish you would just talk to Nan,' said Flick with a huff. ‘You have stuff to talk about. Have you even stopped to wonder if Rocco is still alive? Don't you want to know more about him?'

Toni didn't know how to handle the questions. Maybe if she'd found out about Rocco when she was younger she'd be more understanding, but right now she felt lost. Was her place even on this farm? Where did she belong? And most of the time she kept thinking about what her life would have been like if she'd known the truth. Would she have got on better with Arthur? Instead of fighting against their differences, would they have respected them? And she hadn't even started thinking about Rocco. Was he alive? Did she even care?

She hadn't had enough time to figure all this out. Flick was asking for miracles.

What was she to do? Maybe she would find the answers in the stars if she watched them long enough.

MAGGIE
wiped her hands on the tea towel after clearing away the breakfast dishes. Only Flick and Jimmy had turned up; no sign of Toni. She should have expected that after she didn't show for dinner but it still cut deep. To top it off, early this morning Maggie had woken for the toilet, padded past Toni's room and noticed her bed hadn't been slept in. Her daughter never forgave easily.

Maggie clearly remembered the time she and Arthur had said Toni couldn't go away to a party with her friends. Toni had stopped talking to them for a whole week and camped out on the lawn in a tent. Even as a fourteen-year-old she'd been full of fire and passion. Just like Rocco.

Maggie pulled out a stool and sat down, looking out the kitchen window. She felt sick, her gut twisted and acid bubbling deep in her belly. Her child was hurting and it was all her fault. Maybe if she'd kept her mouth shut none of this would be happening. Maggie hadn't intended to let the secret she'd kept for so long slip out but since getting Rocco's letters she hadn't really been herself. The memories had engulfed her and it was like being plunged deep into water. The vivid memories washed over her like waves, replaying her life over and over.

But knowing Rocco had planned on coming back for her changed everything, and with Arthur long gone she couldn't feel guilty about telling Toni the truth. Arthur died with a daughter, but Toni lived on and deserved to know her real father. If only she would calm down, just enough for Maggie to tell her about Rocco. About the kind of man he was. Maggie wanted Toni to love him like she did.

Her hand automatically went to her pocket. Maggie pulled out her favourite letter, the one she'd been carrying with her. It was the shortest letter of the lot. It simply said,
Dear Maggie, I'm coming for you. Ti amo, Rocco
.

The years she'd dreamt about him coming back for her and Toni, how happy they'd all be. A family. What would have happened if she'd got the letters back then, when they were intended? Would she still have waited out the years with Arthur until Rocco returned? Would she have told Arthur that Rocco was coming for her? Would Arthur have walked away without a fight?

Arthur Stewart wasn't a fighter, and he hadn't been much of a farmer either, but he'd tried his best. His brothers had called him the runt of the litter when he was younger and he never did seem to grow into his lanky body. But he'd had a heart as big as Sunnyvale and a gentleness not seen in many men. It wasn't his fault that he lost the use of his legs and she understood that it had changed him. That's why she'd never given up on him, even though he'd grown bitter, lost and depressed. She couldn't imagine what it was like to be waited on by your loved ones, losing so much independence and not feeling whole.

But she clung to the man he'd been. She'd seen his eyes after Toni was born; he'd loved her instantly and claimed her as his own. While she was young he doted on her but as she grew older, she began to look more and more like Rocco, and her strong will twisted Arthur up, more so when he was confined to his wheelchair.

Maggie carefully refolded the letter and tucked it away. She pulled out a small bag of home-grown potatoes from the bottom cupboard for her shepherd's pie. She found a small one, about the size of an egg. A smile crossed her face. Another vivid memory. She closed her eyes, willing it to take her back.

But an approaching ute caused the memory to slip away like fog in the morning light. Maggie pulled out a peeler from the drawer and peered out the window. It was young Chad.

‘Flick, darling,' she called through the house. ‘You have a visitor.'

Her granddaughter was supposed to be off working on the old house but had snuck back to check her emails.

‘Coming!' she yelled back. Flick thumped through the house as she ran to the door. Chad had stepped up onto the verandah and Flick slowed when she saw him.

‘Hey, baby, how are you?' His voice floated through to the kitchen, and Maggie shuffled towards the open door, ears straining while the half-peeled potato sat forgotten in her hand. She could still see them out the window.

‘I didn't think you cared,' Flick said softly.

‘Of course I do,' he said, pulling her close.

Flick let him but she was still frowning. ‘I thought you were going to come out to the club last night. I needed you.'

Maggie sighed heavily. She hadn't realised the toll all this was taking on Felicity too. Would they ever forgive her? Could they all get past this? No matter how much it hurt, deep down Maggie was still relieved her secret was out. Fifty-three years of holding the truth inside had taken its toll. It was not something she could ever discuss with Arthur either. Maggie told stories about Rocco and Giulio while Arthur wasn't around but there were times when Toni would ask about them and Arthur would pale. Had he worried that Rocco would return? Had he feared he'd lose Toni? Or even Maggie? It was too late to ask Arthur those questions now.

‘I'm sorry I wasn't there.' Chad didn't offer an explanation.

Flick tilted her head, giving him a stare Maggie knew well. ‘Were you stuck at the farm?' she asked.

‘Ah, yeah. We had a fence down and lost some sheep to the neighbours. Had to draft them off.'

‘Right. I see. Funny that, 'cos I heard from Shannon that Justin said you were the life of the party at his place.'

Chad's eyes rolled to the side. ‘Sorry, Flick. We had such a shit run with the sheep I stopped for a few at the pub. I was going to come but Justin was there and wouldn't take no for an answer.'

‘So he forced you to his house for an impromptu party?' she said frankly.

‘Pretty much. You know what they're like,' he said, caressing her face. ‘After a few at the pub I couldn't drive anyway. I'll make it up to you, I promise. You shearing tomorrow?' he asked.

Maggie noticed the subject diversion and she could see Flick hadn't missed it either. She felt guilty about listening to their conversation but she worried for her granddaughter.

‘Yes, we are. Can you stay and help me work on the house? Jimmy and I have got all day to work on it.'

‘Um, no.' Chad frowned and kissed her lips. ‘Sorry, babe. I actually have to get back and help Dad. I had to come out this way to pick up some parts for the old truck. Turned out Noel had some at his workshop in Karlgarin. He's saved us a packet.'

Maggie felt Flick's disappointment. Chad hadn't actually come here for her. He just happened to be passing by.

‘But I'll call you tonight and we can have a long chat if you like. You can tell me what's been going on. Okay, babe?'

Maggie looked down at her potato, clenched against her apron. Lately something about Chad had started a niggling sensation deep in her chest. He was a lovely boy and they all enjoyed his company, but recently his life seemed to have become more important than Flick's. Maggie didn't like seeing her granddaughter put aside, and she was worried Chad had lost his way.

If only she could talk to Toni about this. Maybe she'd come in for dinner tonight. Maggie didn't want to push her; Toni deserved time to process everything. Maggie could wait. After all, she'd waited this long. With a sigh, she stepped back to her pile of potato skins, worrying about them all.

SHEARING
was the last thing Flick felt like doing. She sat at the table eating her eggs on toast but her mind was still obsessing over her conversation with Chad the day before. Not even the crispy bacon could take her mind off it. What to do about Chad? Didn't he realise how much this family chaos was eating at her? Why hadn't he cared enough to ask? Even to take some time out of his day so they could talk.

He didn't even stay for long yesterday, and as for that ‘I'll call you tonight' comment – well, she'd waited and his call never came. Automatically her mind threw in some excuses: he'd got stuck at the farm, he'd had an accident, he'd fallen asleep after a hard day's work. But she couldn't help thinking he'd just found the pub again. Maybe that's why she never called him – she was too afraid of what she'd find out.

‘How are you going, love?' asked Maggie, placing the bottle of tomato sauce on the table for Jimmy. Hopefully he arrived soon because Flick felt rather lonely at the table by herself. Nan had already eaten and apparently her mum had already grabbed something too.

‘I'm fine,' she said rather shortly, then regretted it. Maggie's eyes softened and Flick knew there was something on her mind.

‘I didn't get a chance to ask yesterday, but is everything all right with Chad?' Maggie asked, giving Flick's shoulder a squeeze. ‘He didn't stay for long.'

Why did everyone in her family, including Jimmy, have to notice all the small things and keep tabs?

‘Yep, all good. He's going to come out one day while we're shearing and give us a hand.'

Maggie sighed. ‘I'm sorry.'

The words came out of the blue, and Flick looked up at her nan, who stood there with a pained expression.

‘I never meant for this to hurt anyone and I know you're all caught up in it,' said Maggie softly.

Flick patted her hand and smiled. It had obviously upset Nan that Toni was still sleeping over at the quarters. She was prob­ably living on two-minute noodles and tins of spaghetti, all so she didn't have to cross paths with her mum.

‘Don't worry yourself, Nan. We're a tough bunch. It will all blow over soon, trust me.' Flick hoped she spoke the truth.

Jimmy walked in with the gun in his hand. ‘Morning all. Save me some of that coffee, please, Flick. Someone forgot to put the gun away from the other night.' His gaze was directed at Flick but his tone was teasing.

‘Morning, Jimmy,' Maggie said. ‘You remind me so much of Rocco in that photo, standing there with the gun, all handsome.'

Jimmy gave her a grin. ‘Am I handsome enough for a bit of bacon too?' he asked with a wink.

Maggie chuckled. ‘Oh, you're a scoundrel. Go get that gun locked up and come get your eggs.'

‘Give him nothing, Nan,' said Flick with gusto.

Jimmy poked out his tongue at her, then went to lock up the gun in the cabinet.

‘You know, it's been ages since we did a roo cull. Have you seen how many there are near the top paddock?' said Flick when he came back

‘I had noticed. The dogs could go some roo meat too,' said Jimmy.

Maggie put Jimmy's eggs on the table. ‘Back in my day we were the ones eating the roo meat. Mother's roo tail soup was my favourite.'

Flick screwed up her face. ‘Gross. I'll pass, thanks.'

‘I should make you a rabbit stew. You'd love it if I didn't tell you what it was.'

Flick shivered at the thought. ‘I don't know how you lived like that back then.'

Maggie wiped her hands on her apron. ‘We didn't have much of a choice. We were on rations, had to use coupons just to get tea and sugar.'

Jimmy chewed his mouthful quickly so he could speak. ‘I rem­em­ber my dad talking about the Italian prisoners a few times. The ones he knew came back and settled on farms nearby. We called that area Little Italy.'

‘I think you'll find there a quite a few around. Look at Mr Di Franco, he came back after the war,' said Maggie.

Flick started thinking about Rocco and the letters. He had said he was coming back for Maggie. Flick could tell from the letters how much he loved her, so what could have happened to stop him from getting back?

‘Hey, Nan, where was Rocco from? What part of Italy?'

Maggie's face crinkled as she thought hard. ‘He did tell me but it was a long time ago, I can't remember the name of the place. It was somewhere in the middle area of Italy but not far from the coast. Giulio was born nearby too.'

‘You know, Rocco could still be alive, Nan.'

Maggie's eyes darkened. ‘I'd like to think so, sweetheart,' she said and headed back to the kitchen. ‘You'd better get a move on,' she called. ‘The shearing crew just drove past.'

Chairs scraped against the floors as they stood up. Jimmy took his plate with him, still shovelling the last of his eggs as he went. He detoured to the kitchen to drop off his plate and Maggie pressed a bacon and egg toastie into his hands.

‘Make sure she eats it, please. She won't have time to sneak back in to pick at the fridge today.'

Jimmy nodded and followed Flick to get their boots.

‘See you at smoko, Nan!' yelled Flick.

Smoko was her favourite time, especially during shearing. Maggie always made the special stuff for them all: jam and cream scones, hedgehog and caramel slice, Anzac biscuits.

Down at the shed the shearers were already picking a stand and setting up their gear. Each year they had the same crew: Mouse, Bottle Top Bill, Donnie and Squeak, and this year they had a new kid they called Pup. He was still trying to pick up his numbers but Mouse said he worked hard and was a clean shearer. Jimmy did the pressing, Toni classed and Flick helped roustabout when she wasn't pushing up sheep into the pens with Jimmy. Her mum was already at the shed. No doubt she'd been here since five, setting up.

‘Hey, Mouse, how've you been?' asked Toni as she shook the big guy's hand. He was the opposite of his nickname – tall and solid, and he stomped around like an elephant.

‘Great, Toni. Looks like we have a clear run, no rain forecast, touch wood.' Mouse rested his hands on his hips. ‘Thanks for letting Pup tag along, he really needs the shed time. He's a good kid.' He nodded to the scrawny pimple-faced kid on the end stand. ‘Just turned eighteen.'

‘Hey, Squeak,' said Flick to the girl who walked towards them. She'd just set up the CD player in the usual spot by the side wall.

‘Flicky Flick, how are ya, mate?'

The two girls hugged. Squeak, whose real name was Sara, was Mouse's daughter, five years older than Flick. She's been rousing for her dad since she could throw a fleece. She was nearly as big as her dad, and had the lean muscled arms of a basketball player. Squeak could drink Flick under the table with both hands tied behind her back.

‘Great. Ready to go? Brought some good tunes?' she asked.

Squeak nodded as she tied up her blonde hair into a topknot. ‘You bet. Hey, have you met Pup yet?' Flick shook her head before Squeak dragged her over to his stand.

‘Hey, Pup, this is Flick. Pup's one of my second cousins.' Pup gave her a half wave and a smile then went back to putting on his moccasins. ‘Yeah, he don't talk much.' Squeak glanced at her watch, looked up at her dad, then turned on the music. ‘Let's get this show on the road! Yeah, baby.' She smacked her hands together and rolled her shoulders.

U2's ‘Beautiful Day' was cranked up to full volume. Flick followed Squeak to the shearers, who had turned on their handpieces, the whirring motors echoing off the tin walls. Sheep shuffled in their pens, hoofs against the boards. Soon the
clunk clack
of the press would join them.

‘Mouse and Bottle Top still the quickest?' she yelled in Squeak's ear.

Squeak nodded. They both took up positions by the two fastest shearers, waiting for the bellies.

Flick's mood picked up and she felt like she was on a high. The music pulsed through her and the camaraderie with the crew was fun and infectious. She found herself skipping with the scraper and flinging the shorn bellies with pizzazz. Wheatus was the next tune with ‘Teenage Dirtbag'. Squeak always made sure they had the latest tunes, but the good old favourites like AC/DC, Bon Jovi and Def Leppard still made the rounds.

Half an hour in and Flick had discarded her checked shirt, rousing in just a black singlet (now covered with wool) and her jeans. She'd be head to toe in sweat and lanolin by the end of the day, her hands encrusted with sheep poo and blood and nails all black and dirty. But it made her feel like she'd done an honest hard day's work. Plus it was always fun with this crew.

Squeak paused the CD player on Pink's ‘There You Go' when it was smoko time. The sight of Maggie walking in with three massive Tupperware containers was enough to stop a herd of stampeding cattle – or in this case, very hungry shearers who knew just how well Maggie fed them.

‘Missed you, Maggie,' said Bottle Top. His smile was dotted with black holes where his teeth had once been; his party trick was opening his beer bottles with his teeth.

‘They all go soft around Maggie,' said Squeak, who was scraping up the wool under the table.

‘I know.' They weren't the only ones. Flick approached her nan and gave her a kiss. She was a sight in her boots, dress and apron. ‘Thanks, Nan.'

Toni turned her back and made a cuppa before taking it out of the shed in silence. Flick started grinding her teeth.

Maggie dropped a plate of food into Flick's hands, pleading with her eyes. ‘Can you take this out to your mum? I don't want her starving herself for my benefit.'

Flick hated how this tension had visibly aged Maggie. Overnight she seemed tired and slower moving. ‘Okay, Nan.'

With a sigh she headed outside to where Toni was sitting on the steps with her coffee. A predictable smile spread across her face when she saw the handful of food.

‘Is that for me?'

Flick nodded and handed it over. Toni bit straight into the marshmallow slice and groaned with pleasure.

‘Nan doesn't want you to starve,' she said and regretted it when her mum froze mid bite.

Toni immediately handed the food back to Flick. ‘I don't need it, thanks.'

She knew full well how Nan would feel if she returned with the food. It would be another rejection. ‘Mum, don't you think you're being —'
childish
was the first word that sprang to mind, but Flick wondered how she could put this nicely, ‘— difficult?'

‘I'm trying to deal with this, Felicity. I don't want her help, she's done enough already.' Toni resumed sipping her coffee, but Flick noticed she'd kept one piece of slice in her hand.

‘You can't hate Nan forever. She loves you and thought she was doing what was best for you. We all make mistakes, Mum!'

Toni didn't respond. Now Flick had lost her appetite, and that was a rarity. She snuck back into the shed, hoping to sit down with the food before Nan noticed. But Maggie had been waiting. Even though Bottle Top was telling her a story, her eyes found Flick and immediately dropped to her hands. Flick could hear her heart tearing a little more.

Feeling caught in the middle again, Flick dropped heavily onto the wool bale beside Donnie. ‘Hey, Donnie, going all right?'

‘Yeah, love. Getting a bit of arthritis these days. Need the extra Export medication to keep it in check,' he said with a wink.

Flick almost smiled. ‘Donnie, I don't think the doctors would classify beer as medication but I'm sure it's really working for you.' She took a bite of caramel slice. For the first time ever it seemed bland.

‘Oh, it does – by the eighth one I don't feel anything.' He gave a deep belly laugh, one which was never missed in a crowd. Donnie's blond mess of hair hung around his face like scraggly wire. Half of it was almost turning to dreadies. He sobered up when he realised Flick wasn't joining in. ‘What's going on, love?' He nodded towards Maggie and leant closer. ‘What's the deal with Toni and Maggie? As soon as she arrived it was like Antarctica in 'ere.'

‘Something's goin' down, Donnie.' Flick rolled her lip between her teeth. ‘And I'm stuck in the middle, you know?'

He patted her knee. ‘Hang in there. I'm sure it will blow over. They're both tough old birds, they'll come around.'

And he was right. They just needed more time. But Flick didn't want to feel like this for the rest of the day. She rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck, letting her mind clear. Then she gave Donnie a real smile.

‘Ready to keep up with me now?' he teased.

‘Bring me everything you got. You're gonna love the next run, Donnie, I have four pet sheep coming through.'

Donnie's laughter died. ‘Don't you dare put them in my pen,' he said. Then his eyes lit up. ‘Actually, can you put them all in Bottle Top's pen?' he whispered. ‘I'll shout you a few beers.'

Flick raised an eyebrow. Typical Donnie, up to no good yet again. No one liked shearing pet sheep as they were often difficult. These four, Snowy, Penny, Baa and Bruce, had been Flick's pets for a long time. Even now they would still
baa
when called, but only Penny and Snowy came up for pats.

‘I'm sure that can be managed. Deal.' They shook hands as Jimmy walked past them. His expression said he knew their handshake wasn't good news.

Jimmy continued outside, emptied his cup and began chatting with Toni.

‘Those two make a nice couple, don't ya think?' said Donnie.

Flick turned to the old shearer and closed her mouth. ‘You getting a bit soft in your old age, Donnie? A bit sentimental, me ol' mate?'

He shrugged his big shoulders, his beer belly jiggling with the movement. ‘Got a soft spot for ya mum. She's a good woman and she deserves to be happy. Been watchin' them two over the years but this time something's different. Time they got their act together, I think.'