Towards four o’clock in the afternoon, Lara began to glance out of the window and up the road at regular intervals. Where was Conrad?
All the preparations for the funeral were complete. She had spent the morning making up a funeral leaflet on the computer and potting some sun jewels in terracotta basins to put near her mother’s grave. The Country Women’s Association ladies were taking care of the food for the wake and preparing the hall. Alice had been into town to meet with Father Callaghan and to help decorate the church. Lara had wanted to go too, but had supposed that she wouldn’t be welcomed by any of them.
Alice had now arrived home and was having a cup of tea at the table. She looked exhausted. She’d been holding it all together for everyone else for just a bit too long. ‘Doing what should have been my job, I suppose,’ Lara thought bitterly. Why was it that just the sight of Alice made Lara feel guilty? It had been that way since the day she was born. Sitting at Alice’s elbow was Theodore, quietly imbibing some milk through a bright green straw that Alice had brought home from town for him. How strange that he’d become so attached to his half-sister in such a short time.
Sam and Jeremy were working over at the little Redstone graveyard on the far side of the cattle yards. Shaded by the old kurrajong trees, they had been tidying up with the tractor and ute, and digging the newest grave. Lara was concerned about her father. He had aged a great deal since she’d last seen him, and looked very frail and unwell, especially these last few days since Olive died. If only he’d been easier to talk to, more approachable. How had Alice managed to grow so close to the old man?
Lara heard an engine and rushed back to the window, thinking it might finally be Conrad, but it was only the men returning. Alice jumped up to reboil the kettle. Lara stood and watched her father and Jeremy talking in the shed. Jeremy was gesticulating with his hands as he talked. He was always energetic, she’d give him that. She could see that her father was listening patiently, and she noticed how bent and tired he looked. Then the distant dust trail of an approaching vehicle caught her eye.
‘At last!’ she said. ‘Conrad’s here.’
‘Just in time for a cuppa,’ Alice commented and took an extra cup out of the cupboard.
Lara, Alice and Theodore went outside to meet him, and Lara yelled to the other two children, who were watching TV in the sitting room. Conrad’s usually spotless silver BMW was caked in dust as he pulled up right in the centre of the turning circle. He climbed out and groaned. Lara gave him a kiss and he patted the children’s heads. Then he turned to Alice and gave her a matter-of-fact smile and perfunctory greeting. ‘How are you, Alice?’
‘I’m alright thank you, Conrad. How was your trip?’
‘Abominable. I don’t know how you people tolerate the state of those roads. You really need to get onto the council about it.’ He shook his head. ‘And no mobile phone coverage if you get into trouble! Ludicrous!’
Lara turned to look at her father and Jeremy, who had walked over from the shed. The old man looked defeated. He waved and nodded at Conrad, then continued past into the house. But Jeremy, who’d overheard Conrad’s comment, stopped to join the welcoming committee.
‘You don’t like our roads, digger?’ He grinned in welcome. ‘You’re in the wild, wild west now, mate. You gotta like it or lump it.’
‘Conrad, this is Jeremy,’ Alice said.
‘Oh . . . should I know you? You must be the head of the Redstone Executive.’ Conrad snorted at his own joke. Lara felt slightly uneasy. She wished Conrad would refrain from baiting the young ringer. It would undoubtedly lead to trouble.
‘Who, me? Don’t be silly, I’m just middle management,’ Jeremy answered, unperturbed.
‘It’s just that you sounded so . . . well qualified.’ Conrad looked sideways at his wife. But Lara had already learned the hard way that it was a mistake to enter into any sort of banter with the ringer.
‘Well, I can blow my nose without a hanky,’ Jeremy said enthusiastically. ‘I bet that’s something you can’t do.’
To Lara’s horror, Jeremy proceeded to demonstrate, leaning forward, holding one nostril closed and snorting a stream of air and mucus out through the other one. It landed on the ground not far from Conrad’s expensive casual shoes. The kids giggled. Jeremy then repeated the process with the other nostril. He stood back, his chest out and hands on his hips, looking expectantly at Conrad. Conrad looked back coldly. Alice opened her mouth to say something but Jeremy beat her to it.
‘Lighten up, old mate. Oh . . . I’m getting the picture, you don’t like anyone’s jokes but your own, eh?’
Lara wished Jeremy would be quiet. Her husband never had much patience when he was tired.
‘Surely there’s something you should be doing?’ Conrad asked.
‘Bloody oath there is! I should be kissing Alice.’ Jeremy grabbed hold of his workmate and swung her round. ‘Should’ve done it yonks ago but she just won’t let me . . . See?’ He set Alice down again and winked into her exasperated face. The kids giggled again.
Conrad turned to Lara. ‘Is there any necessity for us to be standing out in the heat, talking to this imbecile?’
‘Well, your kids are getting a laugh out of it.’ Jeremy launched into a monkey impression and the kids laughed louder.
‘Come inside for a cuppa, Conrad,’ Alice grabbed her stepfather’s arm firmly and, to Lara’s relief, steered him towards the house.
Jeremy did his monkey walk all the way back to the shed and dangled there from a beam, issuing chattering noises before finally disappearing into the shadows. Lara was shocked to find she had to suppress a smile. The kids, who had stopped to watch, looked disappointed to see him go.
Late in the morning of the following day, there was an unusual amount of traffic on the Redstone road. The funeral was over and Jeremy was driving the town car with Sam in the front passenger seat. They were leading the long procession of cars towards Olive’s final resting place. Jeremy tried to ignore the sombre presence of the hulking black hearse in the rear-vision mirror.
Try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to get his head around the fact that Olive had gone. She’d been so full of life for an old girl. So much go in her still. He’d always imagined that dying old ladies would be quiet and weak. But Olive had been strong, brave and determined, right up until the end. It was a bloody shame. She hadn’t seemed ready to go, somehow.
He glanced at Alice in the mirror. She was sitting in the middle between a swollen-eyed Bonnie and Theodore. She had her arm around the little boy and her face was calmly serious, betraying nothing. Bonnie had sobbed bitterly throughout the entire service, while Alice, statue-like, had shown little emotion of any kind. But Jeremy knew how badly she was hurting and wished he could go to her and comfort her. Why couldn’t she just let herself have a damn good bawl?
Then Jeremy glanced at the hunched figure of Sam beside him. He seemed to have visibly diminished since Olive’s death. The sight of the dignified old man brought the lump back into his throat. He decided it was time to speak, to break what had been a long silence. ‘She wasn’t such a bad old girl, your Olive. Pretty damn gutsy, I reckon.’
Sam looked across and nodded an acknowledgement of the comment. They drove on for a while longer, then Jeremy spoke again, more to himself than anyone. ‘Wish I didn’t give her so much curry. Hope she doesn’t come back to haunt me.’
Alice gave a little gasp and Jeremy could feel her glaring at the back of his head. He hadn’t meant any disrespect. He just couldn’t believe that a feisty temper like Olive’s could be extinguished, just like that, in one go.
Jeremy looked at Sam again. He was looking out the window at the ruddy landscape sliding by. Jeremy wondered whether it all looked different to him now that Olive was gone. His other half. He just couldn’t fathom that sort of union with another person. Tied together for a lifetime.
Jeremy hoped he hadn’t upset the old bloke. A moment later he was relieved when a slow rumbling chuckle shook the old man’s frame.