Standing Strong Read online

  The way he felt about Jacqueline, she could tell him she was the great-great-granddaughter of Hitler and didn’t have a problem with what he’d done, and he’d probably shrug and say, ‘Yeah, okay, whatever.’ She was seriously under his skin and could do no wrong in his eyes.

  ‘It’s love, isn’t it, little one?’ he said, stroking the top of the joey’s head. ‘Right, all done? Back into bed then.’ He held the baby roo against the homemade pouch hanging on the back of one of Ethel’s wooden kitchen chairs. There wasn’t a whole lot of room in the van for furniture that wasn’t built-in, but there was also nowhere really to hang the pouch. Damien had briefly wondered if one of the cupboard doors might do the trick, but dismissed it. The last thing he wanted to do was damage the flash van he’d been loaned. The filthy black grime that already seemed to have seeped in despite him taking his boots off and wiping Squish’s paws before coming in was bad enough. He really hoped the curtains were washable. The couch was leather and should be able to be wiped off. Auntie Ethel would know how to sort it out. Anyway, it was a problem for another day. He was doing his best.

  Damien picked up the binoculars and peered outside. A light fog was hanging over the gullies. Pity it was all black from the fire, otherwise it would have been a lovely sight. He couldn’t see the young buck anywhere. Hopefully that meant he was happily grazing over the rise or, better yet, had found his mob or joined up with a new one and was in company.

  One thing that bothered Damien in all of this was reconciling his past views about kangaroos with how he felt now. Since he was a kid he’d loved spotlighting – hunting kangaroos. It was a uniquely country sport and entertainment. But now he was thinking more deeply, and had changed himself and his life so much, it was really troubling him. Looking at the joey and thinking of all the work he and his auntie Ethel had done bringing her and the young buck back from the brink and then how many kangaroos he’d shot over the years – and foxes, rabbits and wild cats too, for that matter – made his stomach turn and his skin crawl. But they were pests: in large numbers, kangaroos caused havoc trampling crops and eating pasture the sheep needed, and carnivorous predators preyed on lambs that were crucial to a farmer’s livelihood. One good thing about a few years of drought was that pest numbers had been kept down naturally. If they got too high again, he didn’t know what he’d do. There was no way he could live with saving their lives one day and going out shooting them the next night. Culling was always done humanely, but it still didn’t sit right with him at all. Why was life so full of compromises and contradictions? Was it especially so out here on the land, or was it just because that was what he saw day in and day out? In many ways it was a wonderful life to live, but it could also be confronting. The things he’d seen and done and taken for granted … Christ! He’d have to put it out of his mind and deal with it when it came up, otherwise he might go completely mad.

  ‘Fancy a walk, Squish?’ Damien asked quietly. The dog leapt off the bed and was at the door in a split second, wagging his little tail. ‘I’ll take that as a very enthusiastic yes, then,’ Damien said with a chuckle. ‘You’d be useless at poker.’

  He grabbed the jumper of his long-gone uncle Gordon that he’d been wearing the day before. He considered leaving the joey in her pouch, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her out of his sight. Her pouch had straps to wear it like a backpack, or as a front pack – thanks to Auntie Ethel.

  She was a thinker all right. And a doer. Damien had quite often thought over the years that his auntie Ethel had been wasted out here being a stay-at-home housewife – she’d have been a great inventor or engineer. It made him a little morose to think that if she’d been young now – and not born into an era where women stopped working when they got married – she could have really done something meaningful with her life. Not that being a mother wasn’t meaningful. But perhaps it was the way it was meant to be. And he’d certainly never heard her complain. About anything; she was one of the most positive people he knew.

  And, anyway, there’d be plenty of people thinking I’m mad doing what I’m doing. But he was happy saving lives – even if they weren’t human. And as far as he could see, giving something a chance was as important to the world as inventing something cool like a smartphone app. Well, maybe it wasn’t. But it did feel good to be helping, no matter how small his actions might be in the scheme of things. Damien felt himself choking up. This was the first time since losing his dad that he could remember being truly content and feeling that he was okay with his place in the world. God, he wished his dad was here to see it. He swallowed hard.

  ‘Righto,’ he said boldly in an effort to rid himself of the downer threatening to engulf him. With the pouch secured to his front and the binoculars in hand so they couldn’t hit the joey if she popped her head up, Damien let Squish out, then carefully negotiated the caravan’s steps, and shut the door behind him.

  Over at the new dog enclosure, he was greeted enthusiastically by his farm dogs, Bob and Cara. Their whole bodies shook and they whined and moaned as they waited at the gate to be let out.

  ‘Okay, everyone, we’re off. Bob, Cara, you stay close. No chasing anything,’ he called as they loped off ahead. Squish was by his side, his little legs going a mile a minute to keep up with Damien’s long-legged stride.

  He skirted around the bare black earth that had once been his stubble and sheep feed for the next year. He hadn’t thought about that particular loss as yet, but now his mind was clearing, it would make sense to plant a crop and cut hay. But he wouldn’t do it himself. He had no plans to replace all his expensive equipment and go back into cropping. No, he’d keep that part of the insurance money and let someone else have the grief by contracting it out.

  He called the big dogs back to his side as he climbed the small rise. He didn’t want them tearing off out of sight and startling the young buck or sheep. He didn’t have to worry about Squish; the pup was struggling to keep up. And, anyway, being so short, Damien doubted he saw anything beyond feet and legs. He took pity on the little guy, put the binoculars around his neck so he had both hands free, and then bent down and scooped him up. He draped the little dog around the back of his neck, retrieved his binoculars from under the dog, and carried on.

  Damien was a little out of breath when he paused at the top of the rise to take in the gully stretching below. The joey and Squish together were heavy. Half of the gully was black. On the other half, a mob of about a dozen kangaroos grazed. He took a few deep breaths.

  ‘Do you reckon our buck’s down there?’ he said, and received a lick on the neck from Squish. He put the binoculars to his eyes. He wished they’d put some sort of marking on the roo – from here they all looked the same. A gust of wind must have carried their scents down the gully, because suddenly all the roos lifted their heads and turned towards them.

  ‘Stay!’ he commanded Bob and Cara. ‘At ease, you two,’ he said, taking the binoculars away and looking directly at the dogs looking up at him expectantly, crouching and ready to give chase. The only way the dogs would believe him was if he got himself settled. He carefully lowered Squish and then himself onto the ground. It was nice to have the time to just sit and watch. There were a million things he should be doing, but it could all just wait for a bit. He really wanted to see if he could make out the young buck they’d released. He was actually quite anxious to know he was okay, and hadn’t had a relapse and ended up going off into the scrub to die. He crossed his legs under himself. The joey’s pouch was the perfect length to sit in his lap. Squish sat beside him, panting, and Bob and Cara gave a frustrated harrumph and lay down nearby. Settled, he brought the binoculars back up to his eyes. He was surprised to see one of the roos was out on its own, halfway between him and the mob, and making its way towards him. Damien could now see the bare patches of pink, healing skin on its legs.

  ‘It’s really you,’ he muttered, a lump forming in his throat. To see this guy out here in his own environment when not much more than a week ago h
e’d thought he hadn’t much of a chance was quite overwhelming. The roo was now just metres away; one or two decent bounds and he’d be on top of him. Damien wished he’d remained standing. He felt a little vulnerable, sitting down like this. The roo hadn’t shown any sign of aggression while in their care, but you could never be totally sure what any creature with a brain might do.

  He held his breath and put his hand out towards the battered-looking creature, which was now just a long neck and arm stretch away. They stared at each other. Suddenly the roo stretched its neck the final distance and positioned his head right under Damien’s hand. He obliged by scratching the soft, slightly wiry fur on the roo’s head. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

  In a cloud of dust, the roo turned and bounded back down into gully towards where the other roos had resumed their grazing. Damien was left wondering if the encounter had really happened, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. His chest ached. After a few moments he gathered himself, rubbed a sleeve roughly across his cheeks, carefully got up, and set off back home with his menagerie in tow. God, it was all too much, too emotional. But, damn it, despite how sad he felt, it felt good – happy-sad, like the end of a movie.

  Damien was desperate to call Jacqueline and tell her about his encounter with the young buck, but he restrained himself; it was one of those you-had-to-be-there moments. Sure, she’d be pleased for him and would ooh and ahh in all the right places, but the moment was already lost. Besides, they would share plenty together down the track.

  He did want to see her today, though; he wanted to get her thoughts on the house plans. He’d pop in and surprise her for lunch at work. He knew she didn’t schedule appointments between twelve and one.

  Meanwhile, he had a stack of things to do. He thought he might get a bit bored now he didn’t have all the farm jobs to do, thanks to the fire, but there was a lot of administrative stuff regarding Esperance to deal with. Ordinarily he hated paperwork and had been quite happy to leave the farm paperwork in his mum’s capable hands, but Esperance was totally his venture. And, anyway, this paperwork was a means to an end. It was an important part of things, not just a pain in the arse, like he’d usually viewed it. God, he’d really had a few things the wrong way around in his brain. But he’d got his shit together now and had a clean slate. Thanks to the fire, there was a nice clear line drawn in the sand, so to speak. It was filthy, actually. Everything was filthy, thanks to the soot and grime.

  Chapter Three

  Jacqueline’s morning was quiet, with two people cancelling appointments; it seemed a cold was making its way through the district. While she didn’t like the extra time it afforded her to think about her predicament, she was thankful to be spared the germs. The last thing she needed was to get sick.

  It was almost lunchtime. She’d meant to pack something at home, but in her distressed state she’d completely forgotten. She really didn’t want to head out to the bakery; didn’t feel up to smiling and chatting when she was carrying this burden. But her stomach rumbled as if to remind her that life went on and she couldn’t hide in here all day. She considered indulging in a few chocolate biscuits, but knew the last thing she needed was to feel sick from too much sugar – she already felt queasy.

  She had run out of tears and sadness in the shower that morning. After all, it was only her job she was giving up – she still had Damien. She had briefly felt sad at losing the little cottage that came with her job. She hoped Ethel might put her up for a few days while she found another rental, and she hoped her parents might tide her over financially, if it came to that. She would hate not being independent, but she couldn’t leave Wattle Creek now. Maybe she could get some bar work in the pub.

  Having forced herself to stop with the what-ifs and the self-pity, she now just felt mostly numb, lost, and bewildered that everything could go so spectacularly wrong so quickly, that it was of her own doing, and all because she’d blocked something very important out of her mind.

  But she’d written her resignation letter to Doctor Squire and printed it out. It was sitting in her in-tray – where she kept looking at it – in case any changes came to mind. Doctor Squire had got caught up at the hospital. She didn’t want to give it to Louise and Cecile and risk them opening it, nor did she want to slide it under his door where they might find it first. Anyway, all those options were gutless. She needed to look him in the eye and ’fess up to her crime like the adult she was. She’d considered begging him to keep her on as an unregistered counsellor, but had decided she’d leave him to make that suggestion if he wanted to. She was the one who had done the wrong thing – she had no right to ask for any concessions. If he wanted to offer them, then that was up to him. Though, knowing what little she did of Doctor Squire, she figured he’d be keen to wipe his hands of her as quickly as possible. Jacqueline was startled from her thoughts by a knock on the door. She hoped it wasn’t Louise or Cecile wanting her to head out for lunch. They both knew she was there, so there was no hiding, and no being rude. She plastered a smile on her face to help her voice sound cheery and called, ‘Come in.’

  The door opened and there stood Damien. Dear, sweet Damien with his brooding eyes and floppy dark hair, wearing what she knew was a joey in a pouch on his chest. Beside him was Squish. She couldn’t help but beam at the scene, it was so cute. And yet also a painful reminder.

  ‘We’ve come to have lunch with you. If you don’t already have plans?’ Damien said, carefully leaning across her desk to kiss her.

  ‘No, no plans.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he said, placing two white bakery bags on her desk. He pulled the two chairs in front of her desk closer. Squish leapt onto one and sat there looking very pleased with himself. Damien went to sit down, but appeared to change his mind. ‘Actually, do you mind if I hang this little one over the chair? I think she’ll fit.’

  ‘Go right ahead.’

  Jacqueline looked on with amusement as he set about organising the bundle. Finally he settled in his chair.

  ‘Right, egg, lettuce and mayo or ham and salad. Your choice.’

  ‘Egg. Thanks very much.’ Ham and salad was Damien’s preference, she knew that – he was just being polite.

  The joey’s head popped out of the pouch like a periscope and she looked around, taking in her new surroundings.

  ‘Uh-oh, looks like someone’s awake. Damn, I was hoping I’d have another hour or so.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘She’s going to want to hop out and stretch her legs.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ It’s not my office, and I won’t be here for much longer, anyway.

  ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. If she wants to get out, she’ll get out,’ Damien said with a laugh.

  Seconds later the joey had climbed out of the pouch, found her feet, and begun making her way around Jacqueline’s office to check it out.

  They tucked into their sandwiches – Damien with gusto, Jacqueline less so. She was pleased to see that Squish had his own lunch – a few crusts of wholemeal bread. She found herself struggling to be normal with Damien, to even look him in the eyes. But she’d sorted out the mess – well, as good as – so what was her problem?

  Finally they were screwing up their paper wrappers and leaning back in their chairs, satisfied. An awkward silence loomed.

  ‘So, how’s it all going?’ Jacqueline asked, and cursed how professional she sounded.

  ‘All good. Coming together. Thankfully it’s not as hectic as last week’s whirlwind. Actually, can you look at the house plans and give your opinion?’ he asked, reaching down and picking up a roll of papers she hadn’t noticed. She’d been too busy thinking how good it was to see him, despite the fact he was a sad reminder that her career was over.

  ‘Sure.’

  They chuckled as the young roo did one more lap of Jacqueline’s office before finding her pouch and somersaulting back in.

  ‘That’s so cute,’ she said, wistfully.

  ‘It is. I never get
tired of seeing her do that. Hey, are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, fine. Why?’

  ‘You don’t seem totally yourself. You seem, I don’t know, troubled.’

  ‘Probably tired. It’s been a crazy few weeks, though nothing compared to what you’ve been through.’

  Damien frowned. ‘Well, if you’re sure. You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yep. It’s all good,’ she said, smiling, but unable to quite bring herself to look him in the eye. She felt a stab of guilt as sharp as a knife dig in under her ribs. Should she just tell him?

  ‘Right, so,’ he said, standing up to lean across her desk and unroll the plans. ‘I just want to know if you think I need to make any alterations. I’m disappointed you didn’t get to see through the place that day before …’ Damien unrolled the large sheets without finishing his sentence and began collecting objects from her desk to hold the unruly corners down.

  Suddenly they were both staring at the letter to Doctor Squire in full view on top of her in-tray. Damn it, she should have at least tucked it into one of the middle trays. But she’d become distracted by the cuteness of Damien and his small menagerie, and then hadn’t really had a chance. Regardless, there, staring up at them in clear, bold, underlined type were the words: Re: Resignation of psychologist position. Jacqueline felt her cheeks heat up. Damien, frowning, looked from the piece of paper to Jacqueline.

  ‘You’re resigning?’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s all good. We’re all good,’ she said, trying to sound bright.

  ‘But I thought you liked it here in Wattle Creek.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘So, why are you leaving?’

  ‘I’m not.’ Well, I hope I’m not.

  Now Damien looked really confused. Jacqueline sighed, swallowed, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth. ‘I’ve made a huge mistake …’

  Damien sat in stunned silence as she told him everything. And then, just as she had that morning, he tried to find another solution. And to every suggestion, she shook her head. She’d been through every scenario, looked at it all from every angle.