Standing Strong (40 page)

The conversation over dinner was polite but the atmosphere a little tense. Damien took special note of how his sister interacted with their mother. He'd remained blissfully ignorant for too long. Lucy was polite, but a lot quieter than she'd been recently. She answered her mother's probing questions, which Damien now suddenly realised were not intended to politely ask after Lucy's life out of interest, but designed to make her daughter feel uncomfortable, put on the spot. Anyone who didn't know Tina very well wouldn't pick it, but the snide tone and emphasis on specific words were a giveaway. Damien's breath caught and he had to cover up his shock with a sip of wine as what he'd missed for so long became obvious.

‘And how is the
office
job?' Tina asked.

‘Great, thanks,' was Lucy's simple reply. At least she wasn't going to fuel the fire. Why would she tell her mother anything about her life but the barest essentials?

‘Where do you work?' James asked.

‘KYOM Advertising – in London.'

‘Oh, wow. They're huge. And do incredible work.'

‘Yes, but it's still just an office job. It's not as if you do any of that,' Tina said primly.

Damien's brow furrowed as he tried to think what Lucy had ever been interested in, had been encouraged to do. His dad and Lucy had spent ages together in the shed woodworking. She'd had a better knack and more patience for it than Damien had. At one point he remembered she might have mentioned becoming a cabinetmaker. But he couldn't remember any talk of that since their father had died.

‘I'm a graphic designer, Mum, so, yes, I do do some of that.'

‘Don't tell me you were involved with that hilarious men's underwear ad for the Super Bowl last year. That was KYOM, wasn't it?' James asked.

Damien was having to forcibly keep his mouth from dropping open. Even he'd heard of the Super Bowl ads. He'd never watched the game, but he knew how famous it was for its ads. Wow, his sister was doing that?

‘Yes. And I was, actually. The Bright Eyes Optical two years ago was mine too.'

‘I don't remember that one. But this is fantastic. Wow. I've met a celebrity.'

‘What do you mean
yours
?' Tina asked.

‘My work, Mum,' Lucy said with a weary sigh.

Damien wondered just how many times Lucy had explained to their mother what she did for a living, and felt ashamed all over again for also being clueless.

‘Well,' Tina said, in the tone she used whenever she was beaten or not the centre of attention.

‘I don't think you understand how talented your daughter is and just how well she's doing, Tina. KYOM is one of the largest advertising firms on the planet.' James turned back to Lucy. ‘So how long are you over for?'

‘I'm not sure. I might move back and settle in Melbourne or Adelaide. Perhaps start a business.'

‘Oh, you won't want to be taking that sort of financial risk if you've already got a good job.'

‘My financial situation really isn't any of your business, Mum.'

‘And I'm sure Australia would be terribly boring after the London high life.'

Sneers all over the place, Damien observed, his blood starting to boil. ‘Why can't you ever just be supportive,' he suddenly found himself saying.

‘I am being supportive. Of course I'm being supportive.'

‘How? Not once have you said, “Well done, that's great, whatever makes you happy” – and without a sneer, I mean. You should be very proud of Lucy, not trying to tear her down or belittle her. She went to London with barely a cent and not knowing anyone …' Damien refrained from adding
to get away from you
‘… and has studied and worked hard to get where she is. I know I'm proud of her. And I'm sorry I haven't ever said it properly before,' he said, now turning to Lucy. His sister gave him a weak smile.

‘Of course I'm proud of her, I'm her mother.'

You could never win. Tina was the way she was and would never change. She was a self-centred bully who would never understand anything where anyone else's feelings were concerned. He could see why Lucy just steered clear. Tina had regularly pissed him off, but he didn't tend to hold onto things for long. Maybe it was being male that made all the difference. Or maybe Lucy was just supersensitive – wasn't that one of the things they said about creative types? He so wished he could go and ask Jacqueline about it. He sighed to himself, careful to not let it out.

‘God, Tina, from where I'm sitting, you're nothing but a bully,' James said quietly, shaking his head. ‘Give the girl a break. And Damien. You should be pleased your kids have done so well despite you clearly trying your best to drag them down.'

‘I have not.'

‘Oh really?' James stared her down with arched eyebrows. ‘They're doing too well for you, but you make out the exact opposite because you're so disappointed in yourself and hate the thought of them doing better than you. But what have you ever done? Tina, you need to deal with your own insecurities and stop manipulating, emotionally blackmailing and bullying people. I think you're damned lucky they still speak to you at all. They're both a lot more tolerant than I'd be. You spent the whole six hours in the car telling me how difficult they are, but now I'm seeing who the difficult one is.' He stood. ‘Look, I'd better go before I say something I regret. Thanks for the offer to stay, Ethel, but I'll see if the motel has a room.'

‘Yes, good idea,' Tina said acidly.

Damien wanted to leap up and throw his arms around the man and tell him how wonderful it was to hear someone standing up to his mother, not to mention figuring her out in a heartbeat. He could see Lucy was looking enormously grateful too.

‘Hey, no, don't do that,' Damien said, leaping up. ‘You're welcome to stay with me. I have a couch and table that turns into a bed. I'm in a pretty comfortable caravan. The reception for the motel will probably be closed anyway.'

‘Oh. Okay, if you're sure.'

‘No problem at all.'
Are you kidding? You've just stood up to my mother and uttered words I've probably wanted to say for years and hadn't quite realised, and if I had, probably wouldn't have found anyway.

They all trooped up the hall to the front door, leaving Tina at the table, her jaw tight with rage.

‘I'll just get my bag,' James said, going to his Mercedes.

‘I'm so proud of you, Damien, for going out on your own. As usual, your mother managed to steal the limelight. I hope you won't change your mind,' Ethel said, giving him a tight hug.

‘Thanks for standing up for me. It really means a lot,' Lucy added, surprising Damien with a hug moments after Ethel had let him go.

‘Well, you can come and help me build pens tomorrow if you're so grateful,' he said with a laugh. All this emotion and being deep and meaningful was getting a little awkward and embarrassing.

‘Okay.'

‘Come on, Squish,' Damien said, bending down and picking the dog up.

As he went around to the driver's side of the ute, he glanced across at Jacqueline's house. Light was glowing at the edges of the curtains in the lounge room. His heart lurched.
God, I miss you
. He'd love nothing more than to be going over there and curling up together and analysing tonight's happenings. And he so desperately wanted her to say it was okay that he really didn't like his mother. Was it okay? He realised with a jolt that life would be a lot calmer and easier without Tina in the picture. Clearly Lucy had come to that conclusion years ago and these days very carefully managed her interaction with her mother.
Oh well, better late than never, Damo
.
You're doing it, you're standing up for yourself by moving onto your own place. And then you can padlock the gates and not let her onto the property if you choose.

Damien took a deep breath of the fresh evening air. It was a little sad to think it had come to this, but it was what it was. And he really did feel quite liberated. And a little scared. No, he'd hold onto feeling liberated. He reckoned this was the real freedom he'd been searching for since his dad had died. Esperance Animal Welfare Farm had only been halfway there, he could see that now.

‘Right, got everything?' Damien said as James got in after placing an RM Williams–branded duffel bag in the back of the ute.

‘Yep. Thanks for this.'

‘No worries.' It seemed so inadequate, but Damien had no idea where to start to explain just how much what he'd said tonight had meant.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Jacqueline forced herself back into the habit of taking long morning walks and also walking the few blocks to work. The exercise helped to keep her head clear. This waiting for the board to make their decision and notify her really would do her in if she let it. While she was learning to enjoy her own company again, Jacqueline was also loving getting out in the car. She'd even taken herself down to Pigeon Bay the last few evenings for a walk along the jetty and beach, and to dip her toes in the ocean before the weather got too cold. She'd hoped to see Paul, but hadn't. She was definitely settling into the district. Sure, she would have preferred Damien's company, but as it was, life was pretty darned good – well, while she could block out the dark cloud looming overhead, that was. Would it dump its rain on her or keep on moving and reveal blue sky? She would have to wait and see.

As Jacqueline left the house for work, she wondered who owned the lovely dark blue Mercedes at the kerb in front of Ethel's that had arrived while she'd been at work the day before. Something was going on with her friend – more to the point, she was up to something – and it was clear she didn't want to share it with Jacqueline. No doubt she'd hear soon enough. Most likely from one of her clients – nothing stayed a secret around here for long. She really hoped her own secret had managed to stay hidden – she didn't like to think that people sat in her office knowing she'd made such a mistake in her own life. And it wasn't as if she could say to them, ‘Do as I say, not as I do.' Picturing herself saying it to a client made her smile broadly as she unlocked the door to her office.

Regardless of the outcome of the board's review into her relationship with Damien, she would be okay. She thought she'd stay here and adapt if she needed to, especially as her parents were set to make the move over. They'd rung, full of excitement, to tell her they'd found a builder who specialised in working with stone and blending the old with the new. Apparently he was from Melbourne and had moved to the district for love. Wasn't that nice?

At lunchtime, just as she'd finished eating her ham, cheese and mustard sandwich at her desk, there was a gentle tap on her door – too gentle for it to be Ethel, she lamented. She was really missing her friend's company.

‘Come in,' she called.

The door opened to reveal Doctor Squire. Jacqueline's heart seemed to freeze for two beats before racing to catch up.

‘Hello.' She was pleased she managed to sound bright.

‘Do you mind if I sit?' the older man said, pointing to the two chairs.

‘Go right ahead.'

‘It looks like we've had word,' he said, handing her one of what she now realised were two envelopes in his hand. No need to ask word from where or whom.

Jacqueline's heart pounded as she read her name on the front of the envelope and then turned it over and slid a nail under the seal. She noticed that on the other side of the desk, Doctor Squire was doing the same and felt a surge of renewed respect, realising he'd waited to open his own letter with her.

‘Right,' she said, taking a deep breath as she pulled the contents out and unfolded the crisp letter.

She tried to take in the words, commit them to memory, but her brain was feeling addled. She started again.

Dear Ms Havelock, Regarding
… blah, blah, blah.

And then there it was:

It went on to wish her all the best with her career.

She was off the hook. It was over. Jacqueline was engulfed by relief so intense her chest filled with a ball of anxiety. It floated up, lodging in her throat and causing her eyes to fill. She bit her lip.

‘Good news,' Doctor Squire said.

She nodded, fighting the tears.
Hang on, was that a statement or a question?

‘It's over, Ms Havelock. Well done,' he said, smiling warmly at her and reaching across the desk to clasp her hand in such a touching gesture that Jacqueline nearly sobbed.

‘I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself,' he said, shaking his head slowly. ‘Finally, a little win for the country. We get to have our cake and eat it.'

‘Sorry?' Jacqueline's brain really wasn't working properly. Relief was consuming her, cutting off all other thought processes.

‘You get to keep your qualification, I get to keep you – if you want to stay, that is – and you get your man, I think is the way to put it.'

‘What?' The word came out in a whisper. Or had she spoken at all? Her mouth was certainly open. She closed it.

‘Here, read for yourself,' he said smiling and handing her his piece of paper.

She frowned as she read. Loud white noise roared in her ears.

Dear Doctor Squire, Thank you for your submission in response to
… blah, blah, blah. Jacqueline skipped forwards.