Standing Strong (38 page)

Over near the trees was a bit of a rise that might make a good site for a house, if one was so inclined. It wouldn't have the far-off view of the ocean that his dad's had, but the patchwork of farmland and scrub was picturesque, and the blue of the distant hills and mountain ranges was quite beautiful. Perhaps that was the reason someone had planted the pines. And they'd definitely been planted – they were in nice straight rows. He'd never considered the place for its aesthetics.

He drove down to the trees and parked. The super shed was far enough away to not be a blight. There was no reason why this couldn't be a nice spot for a house. Except for all the extra distance on dirt roads to get to town. Damien frowned. That was the fly in the ointment. And it was a big fly. He sat there feeling deflated and not even sure why. And then something started tugging at his brain, like the thread of a memory he couldn't quite grasp.

Something about a boundary? Or perhaps it was just the disappointment that the boundary was so far away from anything. It wouldn't work – he couldn't be driving that far to town. And it was all dirt roads. Damien knew he was probably being spoilt, but he knew he'd resent the travelling. There was no point going any further. Oh well, he'd at least considered it as an option. Time to head back, though he figured he may as well go right around and check on the whole place while he was over here.

He headed east towards the small paddock surrounded on all sides by scrub, with just a gap to enter. He only tended to venture into it to check for sheep during muster. It was cleared but was too small for him to be bothered putting the tractor in to crop it. What you wanted was big open spaces for cropping and enough areas of shelter for stock. This was a pain – a waste of twenty acres of good soil. The effort and cost to clear it and add it to the adjoining paddock wouldn't have been worth it. But now he was looking at things through different eyes, looking for different areas of potential, he could see how much of an asset this small, secluded paddock could be to a few horses, donkeys, or even camels – whatever needed a home. He could easily have solar-powered electric fencing installed to keep stock from getting near the barbed wire.

He drove on along the boundary and up onto the next rise, where he stopped to take in his surroundings, get his bearings. He was so rarely over here that he now felt a little disoriented. He looked around. Before the fire, he would have been able to see the top of his big implement shed. But it had definitely been over there to his right, because he could see the line of Stobie poles. He looked to his left. Two paddocks intersected with his on the other side of the fence. One was the northern boundary to the piece of land the Havelocks had bought.

His heart rate quickened. If Jacqueline's parents let him put a track through here to the council road – put in an easement – he'd only be a kilometre from his current driveway. And the old cottage was on the other side of the scrub, so they'd still have their privacy.

Damien's dad had fought all those years to get his road in from the bitumen. He'd wanted it to go right past his place, through what was now Damien's block, and join up with the back road – to make carting grain easier for all those out that way. Maybe Damien could go some way towards making that dream of his come true too …

No, hang on. He didn't want grain trucks rumbling too close to his home. His own private track to meet up with the end of the current council road and get straight out to the bitumen highway would be enough. God, it might actually work in Esperance's favour to have two entrances, he suddenly realised. It would be like serving two sides of the district without people having to drive so far. God, why could everyone else see it and he couldn't? If he could get the council to start grading and taking care of the five hundred metres of road beyond his current driveway that ran alongside Tina's boundary and put down five hundred or so metres himself, he'd be set.

He turned the ute around and headed back the way he'd come. His brain was firing with creativity and his pulse was racing with excitement. He pulled up on the rise facing north and took in the view. Then he got out and faced west and took in that view. He did the same for the remaining two directions and all the angles in between, taking careful note of what he could see, where the prevailing wind would travel in each season. When he'd finished, he sat in quiet contemplation.

And then another thought struck him like he'd been hit over the head with a sledge hammer: it didn't matter where he put his house. There was no power, no power lines to take into account – he could stay off-grid. There was water laid on to the paddocks, but not near here. He should be able to be self-sufficient with that too by collecting enough rainwater off the roof, and cart some if not.

Just like all those weeks ago, when he'd realised his destiny lay in Esperance, Damien buzzed with the slightly overwhelming feeling that the world really was his oyster. He ran his hand rhythmically along Squish's belly. He heard the metallic rattle of the big dogs' chains hitting the tray as they settled down for a snooze. He stared out through the bug-speckled windscreen framed in dirt. His brain raced a mile a minute, but he felt calm. He'd build his own house here on his land, cut the apron strings for good. His dad had always wanted to build a mudbrick house. He'd also toyed with straw bales. But back then it hadn't been done often and involved too much trial and error. Now it was a completely different story.

But maybe having a transportable arrive on a truck was a damned sight easier. Or one of those two-storey weatherboard or corrugated iron houses with the garage underneath could be the go. The view might be quite spectacular from another level up.

As for income, he'd get a contractor to crop what he could here, run some sheep himself, and make up any shortfall with working for other farmers during the busy times. He was licensed to drive semi-trailers, so he could even do some truck driving to make ends meet if necessary.

Damien was surprised at how little the thought of getting work away from his property bothered him. He'd heard of other farmers doing it, but he'd always seen it as a sign of failure, total humiliation, and admitting defeat. No doubt he'd got that view from his judgemental mother as well. While she was all about impressions, now he could see that life was more about whatever it took to keep your dream afloat. Some things were worth doing and some compromises worth making. With or without Jacqueline, he was going to do this. He had to. He hoped Tina wouldn't get her nose out of joint and withhold the proceeds of their partnership, including the insurance money. But if she did, he'd find a way around it. He'd heard about a farmer's son suing his parents for unpaid wages. He didn't think he'd go down that path, but if his mother did get difficult he'd damn well fight for himself and his future.

He took a deep, slightly tentative breath to see how his decision felt. He was calm and rational, driven. And the longer he stayed here, the more he liked the feel of the place, especially the whisper of the wind through the pine trees. He dragged the pad of paper from the dash and began drawing a rough map of where everything was, marking up plans for his future.

Damien became engrossed in shifting between his hand-drawn map, which had on it what he wanted and where, and his to-do list. He needed to get his priorities right and just focus on the crucial things for now. Moving himself was fine, easy – he just had to hook the van to the ute – but to move the animals he needed enclosures down here. He'd decided that south of the house was best. That way the hot north winds would blow any odours and dust away.

It actually felt quite good to be starting over, though he did feel a little guilty that the working bee would essentially be rendered a waste of time. But he couldn't worry about that. He had a blank canvas on which to work and would think it all through carefully before doing anything permanent.

Damien was startled when his phone started vibrating and ringing on the dash, very loud in the silent cab.

‘Christ, scared the crap out of me. How 'bout you, Squish?' he said, putting a reassuring hand on the little dog while he picked up. He frowned at the unknown number displayed.

‘Hello, Damien McAllister speaking.'

‘Hey, it's me,' a muffled voice hissed. Whoever it was must be whispering.

‘Sorry, who am I speaking to?'

‘Lucy, your sister, remember me?'

‘Where are you and why are you whispering? I can barely hear you.' Damien almost laughed, realising his voice had gone quiet to match his sister's.

‘I'm hiding in the loo at Auntie Ethel's.'

‘Why?'

‘You're never going to believe this, but Mum's turned up.'

Damien felt the calmness he'd been experiencing seep out of him and tension sneak in.

‘But I only rang her not long ago.'

‘She was on her mobile, wasn't she? Well, she could have been anywhere.'

‘Great. All good things must come to an end, apparently.' Damien felt decidedly deflated.

‘Yes, well, anyway …'

‘So, what's the story?'

‘This is something you're also not going to believe … Well, no, actually, you probably won't be surprised.'

‘Lucy, just spit it out.'

‘She swanned in here on the arm of a bloke, like she's just come back from a holiday.'

‘You're right, I'm not surprised. She hates being on her own. So, what's he like, a creepy loser like the last one?'

‘No. Actually, he seems really nice. And there's a nice shiny Merc out the front.'

‘Oh, won't the old ducks in the street be all in a fluster? I hope he's here looking for a farm to invest in.'

‘I don't know what's going on. Look, I'd better go before they send out a search party for me. I'm just warning you. Act surprised when you get a call from your mother in a few minutes. I suspect you'll be summoned to a family meeting, or at least dinner.'

‘Okay. Thanks.'

‘Hey, are you okay?'

‘Yeah. Well, as well as can be expected under the circumstances.' Damien found himself smiling at having used one of his father's common phrases. Lucy took it as the dismissal it was meant to be and they hung up.

‘Never a dull moment around here, Squish,' he said after he'd closed his phone.

Concentration now broken, he put his papers back on the dash and put the vehicle in gear. The tension was still within him and he could feel the frown in his face. He was annoyed at letting his previously buoyant mood be upset. He'd head home to feed the kittens – a cuddle with them was sure to make him feel better. He hadn't actually meant to be out so long, he suddenly realised, opening the phone up to check the time. He cancelled the alarm he'd set before driving off.

The phone rang again. He stopped the vehicle and retrieved it from the dash. Auntie Ethel's home number was lit up on the screen, though chances were it wasn't Auntie Ethel on the line.

‘Hello, Damien speaking.'

‘So how come you don't know it's me today?' Auntie Ethel said, with her usual cheerfulness.

‘Hello there,' Damien said, smiling and relaxing slightly. ‘I wasn't sure if it might be my mother using your phone. Lucy called me.'

‘Ah, I thought she might have. Either that or my egg sandwiches for lunch disagreed with her,' Ethel said with a chuckle.

‘So, how is she?'

‘Top of the world – she's the centre of attention.'

‘Who is he?'

‘You'll find out. The reason I'm calling is to invite you in for tea tonight. No, Jacqueline will not be here. I think your mother will be enough to deal with with.'

‘So, I'm being summoned, then, am I?'

‘Yes. This is compulsory. You're not leaving me and your sister to deal with her. You know how she is when she's met a new man.'

‘Like a giggling teenager, I know,' Damien said with a groan.

‘Yes, only it's worse this time.'

‘Why's that?'

‘You'll see.'

‘Righto. I've got a few things to tell her, myself, actually.'

‘Sounds ominous. Do I need to hide the knives?'

‘Not from me, you won't,' he said with a laugh.

‘Good to hear. See you later then.'

‘Yes, because I apparently don't have a choice,' Damien said, still feeling a little jovial. Bless Ethel, she really was the tonic.

‘No. You don't. Cheerio then.'

‘We have a dinner date, Squish. And a date with destiny,' he added. He put the vehicle back into gear and carried on home to see to the animals and have a shower before heading into town.

Chapter Thirty-six

Damien arrived at Ethel's and pulled up behind a navy blue Mercedes. He sat for a few moments taking it in. In a different lifetime he might have owned such a stunning beast.

‘Well, this is it, Squish, time to face the music,' Damien said, and got out.

He snuck a look in the side windows of the vehicle as he passed by. Probably best he had his hands full of chocolates and wine, else he might not have been able to stop himself running a hand over the impressive piece of machinery.

He was still thinking of the car as he lifted his hand to knock on his auntie Ethel's door. As expected, his mother answered. She had a tendency to take over. And, also as expected, she turned her nose up at seeing Squish standing beside Damien.

‘Hi Mum,' he said, moving forwards.

‘Damien, lovely to see you,' Tina said, and hugged her son vaguely. She was just as Lucy had said: happy, and looking around ten years younger. Annoyance stabbed at him. He hated how she was so good at glossing over things, pretending they hadn't happened. She was an expert at putting on a happy face – should really have been an actress. Sometimes he wondered if she actually forgot things or whether it was all just a very good act. If he hadn't sorted out his life, essentially planned on cutting her out of a large chunk of it, he might have been more angry right about now. But now he could see her for what she was: an insecure person desperate to control, desperate to appear perfect and part of a well-adjusted family. Damien thought if Tina stopped pretending long enough, she'd realise just how damaged her relationship with Lucy was, and she'd have a fit. Damien pitied his mother for her lack of insight, but he wasn't about to enlighten her. He loved his mum, it was just that more and more often lately he really didn't
like
her all that much. Like now, when she was standing there all nice as pie, doing her we're-the-perfect-family skit in front of this new bloke.