The doctors are happy with Billy’s progress, but his treatments and the side effects are likely to keep him in hospital and then a rehabilitation unit for another few months. I visit at least once during the week and, depending what times are best for his family, also on Saturday afternoons. Today it’s Friday, but my afternoon’s work has been cancelled. I push back my hair, still damp from the rain, as I approach the nurse’s station.
‘Where will I find Billy today?’
A nurse points down the corridor. ‘He’s still in room thirty-two, only …’ she smiles, ‘I doubt he’ll be in there.’
Billy is moved from room to room depending on the level of care he requires, but the nurses do their best to find him a bed near a window. His current outlook—if you look past the hospital carpark and a modest housing development—is a narrow strip of grazing land at the foot of the Horseshoe Range.
As the nurse predicted, there’s no sign of Billy, so I store clean clothes in his cupboard and talk to his roommates.
‘You’re looking much brighter today, Phil.’
‘How’s your baby grandson, April?’
‘Home tomorrow, Charlie? You won’t need to … water the garden.’
Charlie, determined to live the rest of his life in his house with his family close by, has refused further treatment. Phil will move to the palliative care ward next week. But April and Billy are responding well to their treatments.
April holds out her phone. ‘Look, Prim. Gilbert is getting bigger by the day. Have you ever seen a more beautiful little bub?’
I scroll through the photos. ‘He and my niece Lissa are running neck and neck.’
She laughs. ‘You’re a diplomat, you are.’ She points to the window. ‘You’ll find Billy in the chapel garden, but I hardly need to tell you that.’
‘He hates being cooped up.’
‘That man!’ She laughs. ‘Rain, hail or shine, he goes outside for fresh air.’
Billy has lost even more weight and his skin is sickly pale, but his face lights up as I walk along the path, neatly bordered with box hedges, towards him. He’s sitting in a wheelchair in his favourite spot, a vermillion-coloured bench beneath an arch of wisteria. I search for buds on the tangled branches.
‘This will be magnificent … when it flowers.’
‘It will,’ he says, indicating the seat next to him. ‘Not that I’ll be here to see it.’
My legs wobble as I sit. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Steady on, Prim.’ He leans forward to awkwardly pat my hand. ‘I meant I’ll be back on the farm by then.’
‘Oh.’ I manage a shaky smile. ‘That’s okay then.’
‘You’re a soft-hearted goose, have I ever told you that?’
‘Every time I see you.’
‘And on that,’ he says mock seriously, ‘what are you doing back here again? Last time I looked it was Friday afternoon. Haven’t you got a business to be running?’
I changed from work boots to the clean boots I had in the car, but I lift a leg and show him my sock. ‘See the mud? I was vaccinating alpacas all morning.’
‘That’s half a day, what about the rest?’
I stretch out my legs. ‘It’ll take a while for my … work to build up.’
‘Pricking Farquhar’s pride is one thing; him carrying on like this is another. Why’s he so nasty? What’s his problem?’
‘He has a lot to lose.’
‘That’s a different line than I usually get.’
‘It is?’
‘You usually give me the “I’ve put it all behind me” bullshit.’
I smile. ‘Your memory is back with a vengeance, isn’t it?’
‘Spit it out, then.’
‘I’m not supposed to—’
‘Anything you tell me, I never heard from you.’ Billy’s eyes are bright, not with pain or fever, but curiosity.
I tap his knee. ‘Last month someone who used to … work at the stud approached me about Farquhar. My reading of what they said was that Farquhar knew about the doping and was desperate to cover it up.’
‘Course he would be. Who was it that told you?’
‘I promised not to say.’
‘The cattle were clear when Doc Sinclair did the tests.’
‘This person gave me the name of the hormone.’
‘That’s got to help.’
‘Yes and no—there was no trace of it.’ A gust of wind whistles through the wisteria. ‘Also, I can’t name my source.’
‘Are you back to where you started, then? Your word against Farquhar’s?’
‘More or less.’
‘You don’t have work and this weather would have Noah getting out his ark. Haven’t you got enough to be going on with anyway?’
‘Farquhar has done something wrong and he’s getting away … with it. I’m keeping my options open.’
Billy considers the calluses on his thumbs. ‘Them action heroes like the Avengers,’ he says. ‘They all get together for a reason. To take on a big shot like Farquhar, you’ve got to get people in your corner.’
‘And drag them down with me?’
‘What about the Scots bloke? If you’ve got your facts right, he’s been duped by Farquhar. He wouldn’t like that, would he?’
‘No, but I can’t risk him confronting Farquhar. Or talking to Rowena, the head of HR at the zoo. She’s … warned me off too.’
‘Blake’s not a bad, bloke, Prim. How about you trust him a bit?’
‘I doubt he trusts me.’
‘Because he doesn’t know you. That’s all it could be.’
When Billy shivers, I jump to my feet. ‘Let’s get you out of the cold.’ After I release the brake on the wheelchair, we make our way slowly across the courtyard. Even sitting down, Billy gets breathless, so I talk for both of us. ‘It’s freezing tonight. I’ll put an extra rug on Juniper.’
‘Do you want me to have a word to the doc?’
‘Thank you, Billy, but no. He’s not the appropriate person.’
‘You took a dislike to him months ago.’
‘He’s … still visiting, isn’t he? That’s good.’
‘Don’t change the subject. You got problems with him because of your stuttering?’
‘Why … would you say that? Has he … said anything?’
‘I haven’t been gossiping, if that’s what you’re implying.’
I squeeze his arm. ‘The … stuttering is manageable.’
‘Don’t start throwing up again.’
Students were given practical exams at Billy’s farm. We’d examine an animal and specialists and academics would ask questions, more questions, and even more questions. I often knew the answers but, particularly in the early days, it was hard to get them out. Billy would stick up for me and then he’d come searching, muttering encouraging grumbles while I vomited behind the shed.
‘Forcing words never … works.’
‘Is Doc Sinclair making you talk? That don’t sound right.’
By the time the nurses have helped Billy with his shower, put him back to bed and given him his meds, his eyes are dull with fatigue. I sit at the end of his bed and flick through the television channels.
‘The Farmer Wants a Wife is on soon.’
‘I’ve been a widower for over twenty years. Reckon I might’ve missed me chance on that show.’
‘Never too late, Billy, and didn’t Tom buy you a new phone? I could download an app for online dating.’
He laughs as he points to his side table. ‘That reminds me. There’s nothing smart about a smart phone, that’s for sure. Get the sod out for me, will you?’
‘Language!’ April sings out.
‘If “sod” is language,’ Billy says, ‘I’m going straight to hell.’
As April puts on a headset and fiddles with a remote, I get out the phone.
‘The dang thing was ringing, but I pressed the wrong button. Can you take a look?’
Three missed calls. ‘The last of Dr … Sinclair’s calls … was an hour ago. I’m going … soon … so you’ll have time to call back before dinner.’
I’m barely off the bed before Billy redials. ‘G’day, doc. Sorry I missed you; my phone’s been playing up. No, all good. Prim’s here, she’s got it sorted. Sunday night? Look forward to seeing you then.’
‘I’d better get home.’ I say as Billy ends the call. ‘It’ll be dark … soon.’
‘Every Sunday,’ Billy says happily, ‘me and the Scots bloke share a beer. Watch a bit of TV too. Good way to start the week.’
‘Are the doctors and nurses okay … with you drinking?’
‘They shouldn’t care, the way they go on about holistic health and all that claptrap. Anyway, me and Doc Sinclair don’t see the harm.’
‘Are you sure the doctors don’t mind?’
‘Popular bloke, he is. You should’ve seen the crowd last week.’ He waves across the room. ‘Charlie had his nephews in and April had her grandson. There was a bloke nurse and two of them friendly learner doctors. Phil was in fine form, and we all had a good old chin wag.’
I top up his cup from the jug. ‘When you’re well enough to stay with me overnight, I’ll give you a cider.’
‘While I’m there, I’ll have a look at the donkey shelter and see what supplies I’ll need to make it a bit more permanent. Won’t be long before I’m back at work.’
‘Eeyore will be grateful.’ I kiss Billy’s cheek. ‘I’ll call the hospital in the morning to get a better idea of when that might happen.’
‘You do that,’ he says. ‘And in the meantime, think about having a word to the doc about Farquhar and this new information you got. Also,’ he takes my hand and pats it, ‘I haven’t said anything because I know you’ll be nervous about it, but I hope it goes well with your mum and your auntie tomorrow.’
I smooth the blanket over the foot of the bed before lying a pillow on top. ‘It’ll be good to … see them.’