Outback Sunset, page 24
Curtis tried to attract attention. ‘I will have another, bro. I need the practice ’cause one of these days I will drink you under the table.’
‘The hell you will!’
Vanessa’s smile thanked Curtis for his intervention, and like a co-conspirator he grinned back at her. They had a good, mutual understanding of each other nowadays, seeming to know when to join ranks against Bren’s more outlandish, unworkable ideas, and when to jointly encourage him. They made a good, if silent, ‘team’.
‘Wazza, mate, fancy a game of soccer in the rain?’ Bren challenged the lone stockman the station had retained. They could get away with a lean, mean working crew of just five, including Vanessa, because all were experienced in handling stock and other situations.
‘If I can have Curtis on my side,’ Warren responded after some consideration.
Bren looked questioningly at Reg. ‘We can do ‘em mate, can’t we?’
Reg shook his head. ‘You’re mad as a cut snake, Bren.’ Then he gave his boss a crooked smile. ‘Why not?’
A few minutes later Fran and Vanessa, while Kyle was having his afternoon nap, stood on the verandah, peering through sheeting rain as the four men kicked Kyle’s soccer ball around the front yard. In seconds they were soaked and being covered in mud. Ripe language and insults rent the sodden air and with Curtis and Warren more lithely built and better coordinated than Bren and Reg, they ended up with the lion’s share of the ball, a fact which infuriated an overly competitive Bren.
‘They’re not coming inside wearing that mud,’ Vanessa muttered to Fran. However, in spite of her schoolmarmish tone she had to laugh at the sight they made. Every other time one man kicked the ball, he more or less ended up on his backside. ‘At times like this I wish I had a video camera.’
‘That wouldn’t be good, they’d be inhibited. Besides, the lads are just letting off steam. No one can get used to days, then weeks of inactivity during the wet,’ Fran said, by way of excusing the rough-housing. ‘Silly Reg, he’ll be so stiff tomorrow he won’t want to get out of bed.’
‘Men,’ Vanessa chuckled. ‘I’ll never understand them.’
‘Mmmm, isn’t that what men say about women?’ Fran replied tongue-in-cheek. ‘They can shower the mud off in the stockmen’s quarters. I’ll make a pot of coffee to go with the madeira cake I took out of the freezer earlier on.’
Vanessa watched for a few more minutes, then she left them to it to check on Kyle …
It was late in the evening, the wet had come and gone and the flooding creeks and puddles were drying up. The Morrisons had retired for the night, Kyle was in bed and Vanessa, Bren and Curtis sat around the kitchen table, discussing finances.
‘The idea’s laudable, Vanessa, but I don’t see how the station can afford it,’ Bren said as he dropped the piece of paper onto the kitchen table.
‘I don’t think the station can afford not to. We should look at ways to drought-proof Amaroo.’ She tapped the paper with its rows of figures. ‘Each year a sum of money should be set aside — perhaps two or five per cent of the station’s net profit — in a separate, untouchable account for when it will be needed.’
This was a scheme Vanessa had thought up while working in Melbourne. She would rather Amaroo have less disposable income each year than go through the privations they’d recently suffered. Their cash reserves had been expended and in the end she had had to sell the property in Darwin to keep the station’s figures in the black. There had to be a better way …
‘I don’t agree. Droughts here are as rare as hen’s teeth,’ Bren pointed out. ‘We probably won’t see another one in our lifetime.’
‘I hope we don’t,’ Vanessa said with fervour, ‘but if we do I’d rather be prepared — surely it’s good management. It’s going to take a year, probably two years, for us to become financially comfortable again. As well, we have to rebuild the breeding stock we sold.’ She stared directly at him. ‘A downturn in overseas sales, such as what happened during Desert Storm in ’91, could finish us.’
‘That isn’t likely,’ Curtis intervened. ‘The export beef trade is booming in the Middle East and Asia. I’ve heard that some stations in Western Australia can’t fill their prescribed orders.’
Vanessa’s chin tilted determinedly. ‘Maybe so, but where’s the harm in being prepared for the worst?’
‘Vanessa has a point,’ Curtis conceded to Bren. That he did made his brother scowl at him.
‘Ganging up on me, are you?’ Bren retorted. He was becoming increasingly irritated by Vanessa’s obsession with finances. After all, she was a relative Johnny-come-lately to the outback, what did she really know?
‘No, but it is worth considering,’ Curtis refused to be intimidated by his brother’s churlishness. ‘Why not run the idea by Fabian, see what he thinks of it?’
Bren stared first at Curtis, then he turned an angry gaze on Vanessa. ‘I own Amaroo and I’ll make the decisions, thank you both.’ And so saying, he scraped his chair back, got up and strode from the room.
Annoyed by his display Vanessa got up, her intention to go after him. As she did she silently acknowledged a growing frustration at the way Bren dealt with confrontations and matters he didn’t like, by ignoring them or walking away, instead of talking things through. That it was happening more often with regard to Amaroo and their personal relationship concerned her. Just recently she’d said she wanted another child and they’d argued unsatisfactorily about it without reaching an agreement because Bren had walked away.
Curtis touched her hand. ‘Let him cool down.’ For a moment or two he studied the fieriness in her eyes, the rapid breathing, signs that her temper was on the rise. ‘You know Bren, he doesn’t like to be told. He likes to think “suggestions” regarding Amaroo emanate from him. I wouldn’t bring the savings plan up again. In a week or two — when he’s mulled it over — it’s likely that he’ll raise the matter as if it were his own idea.’
Vanessa stared at Curtis, admiring his ability to read Bren so well. Fleetingly, she wondered if he had studied psychology when he attended university. ‘Your brother can be very … annoying. I only want what’s best for Amaroo, we all do. Why can’t Bren see that?’
Curtis gave her a slow grin. ‘Stubbornness, it’s a Selby trait. You should know that by now. He’ll come round, wait and see.’
‘But … You do think it’s a good idea, don’t you?’
‘It has merit,’ he agreed. ‘As you know, there’ll be years when our profits will be low due to a variety of reasons. Most stations experience that.’
‘Then, in the years we make good profits, we put aside twice as much.’
His grin widened. ‘You’re a hard woman to get around, Vanessa Selby.’
Delighted that he saw the merit of her plan, Vanessa’s anger abated and her eyes suddenly twinkled at him with mischief. ‘That I am, Curtis. You should know that by now,’ she paraphrased what he’d said earlier. ‘Living in the outback has taught me to be determined.’ She rinsed their coffee cups in the sink then walked to the hall doorway. ‘I’ll say goodnight.’
Left alone at the kitchen table, Curtis did his best — and failed — to erase from his mind that cheeky look of hers before she’d left. Vanessa Selby was turning out to be a woman of some substance. Feisty, intelligent, talented. He brushed crumbs off the table with his left hand and let them fall onto the floor. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head as a panoply of memories assailed him, from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. How she had dug her heels in and been determined to learn everything she could about outback life, embracing the good things and the hardships with equal vigour. How brave she’d been after the dust storm. Yes, she was turning out to be a true-blue, modern pioneer woman though she didn’t have a drop of Aussie blood in her, which made her character and behaviour all the more admirable.
His swing from dislike to admiration, to respect and liking, had occurred subtly, he realised, because he had been almost unaware of the change. He squinted at the sheen on the stainless steel kitchen sink, wishing … What did he wish? That Bren would appreciate the treasure he had in Vanessa. She, not his moody brother was becoming Amaroo’s strength, its heart, its soul. But in the next breath he scoffed at his musings — they were too fanciful — as he stood up and went outside. Tilting his head back he looked up at a star-studded night, doing so was a ritual with him, before he went to bed.
Christ, he slapped his thigh as he walked towards the cottage, his brief talk with Vanessa had put him into a strange mood. What he needed was to get away, to go and see Regan. He’d go whenever Georgia was off on a photo assignment in Europe. That way they wouldn’t need to see or trade insults with each other.
Regan was almost twelve. That thought jolted him. Where had the years gone, and how quickly they were passing. His daughter was almost a teenager, and he’d been alone, without a woman for almost seven of those years. He’d never done anything really about trying to find a woman, as he’d said he would do before Kyle’s transplant. Maybe that’s how it was meant to be. Not every man in the outback ended up happily, or even unhappily, married. That made him spare a fleeting thought for Nova and the night she had kissed him — such un-Nova like behaviour had been a shock. He shrugged a shoulder, dismissing her action as coming from someone who’d had a few too many glasses of wine. Nova didn’t fancy him, he was sure of that. She was in a full-on relationship with Leo, the guy in the band. After a last look at the stars, and a long sigh, he opened the cottage door and went inside.
Vanessa typed the words ‘the end’ into the computer, sat back and breathed out in a satisfied sigh. The script provisionally titled North of the Nullarbor was finished, at last. The work had taken considerably longer than anticipated and she knew that Kerri was anxious to receive the final draft because she had two potential backers. They were interested in an overall production package which, if negotiations went well, might include Toni Collette, veteran actor Jack Thompson in the role of Rufus Whitfield and Andrew Clarke as Rupert. With the possibility of Jane Campion, a talented director from New Zealand — if she liked the script — directing the film. The project was getting to the exciting stage and seeing the script through to the end had given her a sense of fulfilment. However, having limited experience in the ways of film and stage proposals, Vanessa knew the project was a long way from being a done deal.
Bren came into the office and stood behind her. His strong hands began to massage her tight shoulder muscles. ‘Finished. That’s great, hon.’
‘I don’t know about great, but it was a relief to type “the end”.’
‘You’ve devised a wonderful, pioneer story, Vanessa, about Emily Whitfield and her family,’ he assured her. ‘There’s passion and privation, greed, murder, a cattle stampede and the bad guy gets his just desserts in the end. I’m no expert but I reckon it’s top movie material.’
Vanessa chuckled at his praise. ‘Maybe you should go to London and try to sell it to the backers.’
‘Your agent wouldn’t like that. I’m still not sure that Kerri fully approves of me.’
She turned around in the chair to look at him, couching her words so she didn’t hurt his feelings. ‘Nonsense, Bren. If Kerri didn’t like you, believe me, you would know it in no uncertain manner. She doesn’t hide her feelings, her likes or dislikes unless it’s prudent for her business to do so.’
‘If you say so.’ He spun the chair around once and when it came full circle he pulled her out of it and imprisoned her with his arms. ‘Coming to bed?’
She blinked coquettishly at him. ‘Will you make it worth my while?’ She had gone off her contraceptive and, whether Bren liked it or not, they were going to have another baby. She was confident that he’d come around and be happy about the idea once she became pregnant.
‘You bet.’ He kissed her, gently at first, then, with growing passion. His hands roamed across her back, fitted around her waist and then slid down to cup her buttocks and pull her hard against him.
In response, Vanessa’s arms crept around his neck and she arched against him seductively. They’d been married almost five years and despite some ongoing difficulties in their relationship, the excitement between them remained strong, perhaps even stronger because they were periodically separated due to her work. Lovingly, the fingers of her right hand traced down his recently shaved cheek and across his chin.
A discreet cough made them leap apart, almost guiltily.
‘Sorry,’ Curtis drawled from the doorway. ‘Thought you should know. Reg had a call from Nova. She’s coming home. He’s going to pick her up from Kununurra in the morning.’ Having delivered the message, and with a slightly embarrassed grin, he disappeared.
‘Too many damned interruptions around here,’ Bren grumbled as he patted Vanessa’s bottom. Hand in hand they went and checked on Kyle then walked towards their bedroom.
After they’d made love, Vanessa lay on the bed listening to Bren’s even breathing as she snuggled up to him, still too wide awake to fall asleep. It was good that after a few weeks thinking time he had agreed to go ahead with Amaroo’s savings plan. Curtis had been right about his brother’s need to chew things over then make out that it was his idea. She didn’t care who took the credit for it as long as Amaroo’s future was assured.
And, at least they’d made love without arguing about another baby. Why wasn’t he keen to have more children? That he wasn’t puzzled her. Being an only child, she wanted a big family, three at least but Bren, disappointingly, appeared content with just one. She didn’t want Kyle to go through the loneliness of being an only child, as she had. And while she wasn’t entirely comfortable with deceiving him about going off the pill, she desperately wanted their son to have a brother or sister to play and grow up with. It would tie her down more and she’d do less stage and film work but that was, she had decided, an acceptable trade-off. And Bren would be happy about her doing less work as he didn’t like her to be away from Amaroo for long periods of time.
Her thoughts shifted to London, and her next engagement. In three weeks she and Kyle were flying to the United Kingdom where she would have several weeks of rehearsal before appearing in the drama, The Women’s Room at the Lyceum Theatre in the West End. She and Kyle would be gone for almost five months. Vanessa was looking forward to it, yet, at the same time she dreaded being away for such a long time even though there was appeal in the fact that it would be super to catch up with old friends and to show off her beautiful son.
She sighed and stretched like a sated cat. Tomorrow she would go and pick up Nova. She had to do several things in Kununurra and she didn’t think Reg would mind if she took his place. Moving her body close to Bren’s warmth, she let sleep overtake her.
The young woman Vanessa met at Kununurra Airport mid-morning was sombre and dull-eyed. Not even seeing a bouncing, energetic Kyle again lifted Nova’s obvious depression. The chopper’s engine made talking difficult, even with headsets and attached mikes for communication, so on the return trip Vanessa wisely said little, though internally she was concerned. After landing the chopper and switching off the motor, she reached across and laid her hand over Nova’s.
‘When you’re ready,’ she said as she watched Reg and Fran drive one of the station’s utes towards them, ‘we’ll talk.’
Nova, understanding, nodded then asked, ‘Where’s Curtis?’
Vanessa schooled her features to show nothing of her thoughts, a technique she had mastered for television because there were times when her face was too expressive. ‘He and Warren are on the slopes, due west and past the old quarry, should you think of riding out that way.’
Nova regarded Vanessa for a few seconds, and then gave her a weak smile. ‘Thanks.’
It was three days before Nova felt sufficiently settled in to seek Vanessa’s company. There were things she wanted to tell everyone but couldn’t, as yet, bring herself to mention even to her father or stepmother. She didn’t think they would understand that for her the last three months had been hell! She had sunk to the depths, lower than a snake’s belly slithering on the ground — that’s what she likened it to. Now she was in the throes of clawing her way out of the hole she had dug for herself then willingly fallen into, but she knew she had a long way to go before she got to the top.
Nova and Vanessa went for a bike ride down to Gumbledon Creek, while Fran took care of a disappointed Kyle, who’d wanted to go with them.
Propping her bike up, Nova got off and wandered close to the creek’s bank. Gathering her thoughts she looked across the creek and saw a row of barrels lined near a fallen tree on the other side, ‘the shooting range’. ‘Do you still practise shooting?’
‘Bren insists that I do, once every three months. He says it’s easy to lose your eye if you don’t practise regularly.’
‘He’s right. I suppose you’re a better shot than me by now.’ Probably better at just about everything, except singing, she thought disconsolately.
Vanessa gave Nova a wry smile. ‘You’ll understand if that’s not something at which I want to be better.’
There was a little silence between them then Nova said as she leant against the trunk of a willow bark. ‘You’re so lucky, Vanessa. You’ve got it all together.’ It was hard to keep the envy out of her voice but she managed to. ‘Shit, I wish I could say that about my life. I’ve …’ she shook her head and blinked back the urge to cry, ‘messed up.’
Vanessa put her index fingers behind her ears and wiggled them. ‘I’m all ears,’ she said with an encouraging smile. ‘Unburden yourself.’
‘I’ve been, umm … sick. I didn’t tell Dad, didn’t want him to know. For the last six weeks I’ve been in a sanatorium, drying out.’ She raised an expressive eyebrow and pre-empted the expected question. ‘Uppers, downers, alcohol.’
‘Hard drugs?’
‘Shit, no. I might be stupid but not that stupid. I started taking uppers because I wanted to perform at my best. Leo introduced me to the habit. Then I needed downers to come off the highs and to relax. The boozing started when our relationship started to go down the tube. We busted up, you know.’ She made brief eye contact with Vanessa. ‘His fault, not mine. Leo couldn’t stand me being more popular than he was. His bloody ego couldn’t cope with it.’
