8

As Kaydon let himself in through the laundry the smell of Indonesian cooking made his stomach growl. He stripped out of his soggy clothes and snuck stealthily to his room with only a towel around his waist, hoping Mum’s visitors wouldn’t see.

He checked out his reflection in the mirror and took a moment to flex his biceps, willing them to catch up with Aaron’s. He crunched his six-pack. Not bad. He whistled as he took a long, hot shower.

The kitchen was filled with people Kaydon had never met. Aaron, freshly shaved and wearing long sleeves for a change, stood at the bench with his arm around a short, stocky girl wearing tight jeans and a white sleeveless top. Her curly hair was pulled into a ponytail.

Aaron grinned when he saw Kaydon. ‘Hey, Squirt. This is Stacey.’

He knew Kaydon hated that nickname. If all these people weren’t there Kaydon would have knuckle-punched him in the arm and started a rumble. ‘Hey,’ he said instead.

Stacey smiled enthusiastically. ‘Kaydon, good to meet you. Aaron talks about you all the time.’

‘It’s probably all lies.’

‘It was only good stuff,’ she said, giving Aaron an adoring look. Ugh, so they were like that.

Aaron lifted his beer to his mouth, then set it down to grab a handful of peanuts out of a bowl on the bench. He tossed one in the air and caught it in his mouth. At no time, Kaydon noticed, did his arm leave Stacey’s shoulder. Not a good sign.

‘Kaydon, come and meet Chrissy,’ said his mum, as she walked from the lounge into the kitchen. She had her match-making voice on. ‘Chrissy is Hugh’s daughter.’

Kaydon went blank. Who was Hugh?

‘Hugh Parker. Your father’s new partner,’ Mum said out of the corner of her mouth.

‘Hi, Kaydon.’ A tall brunette waltzed into the kitchen. Her hair was swept up and she wore a full face of makeup, with dark mascara that made her blue eyes look huge. A cloud of perfume accompanied her, making his eyes want to water. ‘You’re my date next weekend.’

‘Err, hi. Am I?’ He hadn’t even said hello to this . . . Amazon . . . and was tied to her already.

She gave him a knowing smile. ‘Your mum works fast.’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, she does. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. We’ll have fun. How tall are you?’

‘Pardon?’

‘There will be media there. We have to look perfect.’ She walked over to Kaydon, rested her hand on his forearm to steady herself, and slipped off her high-heeled shoes. ‘Stand back to back with me,’ she said, taking him by the elbows and turning him about.

‘I’m one eighty-three,’ Kaydon said. ‘They measured me in gym class.’

‘I’m one eighty-five and a half,’ she said. ‘I’m trying out for a modelling agency next week. It would be great to get my photo in the paper.’ She began pulling her shoes back on. ‘You’re shorter than me, but that’s okay, you will make me look taller.’

‘Great,’ said Kaydon. I think. He smiled.

Chrissy put her hand on his arm again. ‘Sorry, I’ve probably made you feel like you’re in a job interview. This has just come at a really great time for me.’

‘That’s okay.’ Her hand was soft and she was running it up and down his arm. It was making his thoughts scatter.

‘Modelling is the only career I’ve ever wanted,’ Chrissy explained. ‘It can take you all over the world. But Mum and Dad won’t let me pursue it until I turn eighteen.’

‘Yeah, well, good luck with it.’ She was certainly pretty enough. And she had the body. Her string-strap dress showed every one of her curves.

‘It’s my birthday in a couple of weeks.’ She spun on her toes. Her blue, full-skirted dress twirled around her hips and floated back down as she came back to face him. ‘As soon as I’m officially an adult, I can sign up with an agency.’

‘Gunnedah is famous for its supermodels, Chrissy. Stick around, there could be something in the water,’ said Bron. ‘Come and meet our neighbours.’

Chrissy sashayed off like someone on a catwalk. Bron stared over her shoulder and shot Kaydon an Isn’t she something? look.

Stacey stared after her, agog. Aaron raised his eyebrows questioningly at Kaydon.

‘What?’

Aaron sashayed over to Kaydon and began running his hand up and down his arm. ‘Hey, cuz,’ he said, in a breathy voice that was clearly meant to mock Chrissy. ‘Check out my new . . . 308!’ He pulled an iPhone out of his pocket and began scrolling through some photos of a large gun.

Kaydon pushed him off. ‘Get out of it, idiot.’

Aaron chuckled and showed a picture of himself kneeling over a bloodied pig with a gun resting across his knee. He was looking into the camera with the smile of choirboy.

‘That is one good-looking fella,’ said Stacey, peering over his shoulder.

He shoved the phone into his back pocket again and flicked his hair off his shoulder. ‘I do what I can, babe. Juggling my modelling career and shooting; it can be tricky, but I manage.’ He planted a huge kiss on her that sent her arching backwards. She squealed and giggled.

‘I think she was talking about the pig.’ Kaydon made his way to the dining room and left them to it.

Mum had set the table in the huge formal dining room with the gold-rimmed Wedgewood plates and the gold-plated cutlery. She had the damask linen tablecloth happening and every crystal glass in the house seemed to be on the table. A wrought-iron candleholder in the centre of the table held five tea-lights and there were flowers from the garden on each end of the table.

‘Because my boys are home.’ Bron always counted Aaron as one of her boys. And Uncle Maurie and Dad. She just liked feeding people.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ said Kaydon. ‘It looks great.’

Uncle Maurie and Aunty Bev were already seated, as were the couple sitting closest to Dad.

‘Hugh, meet my son Kaydon,’ said Pat, rising from the head of the table.

Hugh Parker was younger than Kaydon had expected – a clean-cut man in his early forties with a gingery complexion and wearing a white business shirt and trousers. He stood and extended a hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Kaydon.’

‘Hi,’ said Kaydon, taking the smooth, cool hand and trying not to wince as the man squeezed a little too tightly.

‘This is my wife, Allie.’

Kaydon smiled and shook her hand too.

Aaron and Stacey entered the room, and Stacey looked surprised when Aaron pulled her chair out for her. Kaydon wasn’t. Aaron knew Mum’s rules. The dining room was her turf and she made the rules formal.

Chrissy looked at Kaydon expectantly.

‘Kaydon,’ his mother scolded.

He pulled her chair out. When did he agree to all this again?

‘That’s better,’ said Bron, unfolding her napkin onto her lap.

‘How’s school going, Kaydon?’ asked Mr Parker, pouring a glass of wine.

‘Yeah, doing okay,’ he said, without mentioning the principal’s award he’d got at the end-of-term assembly. His father hated hearing about anything academic. Pat was more a hands-on sort of bloke.

‘Your mother tells me you got an award for environmental science,’ said Mr Parker. ‘Well done.’ His tone was lukewarm.

‘Thanks,’ said Kaydon, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. These conversations never went well for him.

‘What was your topic?’ Mr Parker reached out for a bowl of steaming rice.

‘Carbon cycles,’ said Kaydon.

Hugh Parker’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Bit of a greenie, hey?’

The dislike Kaydon felt for the guy went up a notch. ‘I’m interested in sustainable farming,’ he answered. Why should that make him an oddball?

Mr Parker looked amused.

‘Sustainable delusion,’ his dad muttered.

‘Some major fast-food retailers are sourcing sustainable beef these days,’ said Kaydon, ignoring him. ‘There’s a growing market for it.’

‘Ah, but will they pay more for this sustainable beef?’ Pat said. ‘Or will they just tell farmers how to run their properties and dictate what prices they’ll get?’

‘If you reduce your emissions, you reduce your costs, by using less fuel and such,’ Kaydon argued. ‘You also have benefits like better soil and healthier river systems. I think it’s a real shame the government didn’t adopt a carbon-price scheme.’

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table and Kaydon realised he’d gone too far. ‘Carbon’ and ‘tax’ were dirty words in this house. Mr Parker kept a poker face, put the spoon back in the rice and passed it to Chrissy.

‘No carbs for me,’ said Chrissy, passing the rice bowl along.

‘You wanna get some grass-fed beef into you,’ said Pat.

Kaydon sighed inwardly. That’s what his dad did when he was seriously annoyed: abruptly changed the subject.

Pat pointed to one of the curries and gave Chrissy a wink. ‘No carbs in that. It’s what all the Gunnedah supermodels are raised on. Just ask Miranda Kerr.’

‘Isn’t she a vegetarian?’ asked Chrissy.

‘No bloody way!’ said Pat.

‘So what are your thoughts on carbon sequestration, Kaydon?’ Mr Parker wasn’t so easily led from the topic.

Part of Kaydon’s assignment had been about planting carbon sinks on farms: rows and rows of trees that absorbed carbon from the air and pumped it back out as fresh oxygen. It was always a controversial topic and Kaydon wondered what Mr Parker’s thoughts were. This could be a loaded question.

‘It would be good if the government paid farmers to plant trees,’ he finally answered. How could anyone argue with that?

‘And what about low-methane cows,’ said Mr Parker. He put his fork to his mouth.

His wife rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah, why not?’ Kaydon muttered, wanting the conversation to end. Now the guy was just teasing.

Kaydon heard Stacey whisper to Aaron. ‘What are low-methane cows?’

Aaron started hissing with laughter. ‘Cows that don’t fart.’ He hissed some more and pulled his napkin over his mouth to try and control himself. ‘Sorry, Bron.’ He pulled the napkin from his mouth and roared with laughter.

His humour split the tension that was building in the room. Mr Parker laughed too, and soon the whole table was exhaling in a relieved wave of chuckles. Kaydon smiled tightly. So his ideas were a joke. Great.

‘And how is the new place going?’ Auntie Bev asked, deftly changing the subject.

‘Settlement will be any day,’ Mr Parker smiled. ‘Just letting the solicitors do their thing.’

‘It’s as good as settled,’ said Pat. ‘The builder arrived today – wasn’t expecting him for a couple of weeks.’

‘Did the agent let him on okay?’ asked Mr Parker.

‘No problems, just a couple of phone calls,’ Pat answered.

‘He didn’t tell us he had four kids,’ said Bron, passing the curry dish along. ‘No way will they all fit in that old hut.’

‘I’ll tow the caravan down there tomorrow and help Ken and Melinda get the place sorted out.’ Pat frowned. ‘Don’t know how they’ll survive on the small salary I offered him, though.’

‘Where are they from?’ Mr Parker asked.

‘They were on the coast. Blue Gum Flats, I think.’

A frown crossed Mr Parker’s face.

‘People get a lot of government handouts for having four kids these days,’ said Mrs Parker, helping herself to the beef curry. She had the same brunette hair and long hands as her daughter. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much. They probably get more money than you draw from the farm.’

Kaydon tried to imagine how the Harvey family was living. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a house on that place, just a bunch of run-down outhouses and sheds.

‘He seemed like a very nice man,’ said Bron. ‘I gave him two free tickets to the ball so he can bring his wife.’

‘I’m going to take the boys out to show them around tomorrow. We’ll meet you out there,’ Pat said to Hugh.

‘No need,’ said Hugh. ‘I’ll leave that side of things up to you.’

Kaydon looked Hugh Parker over, took in his crisp white shirt and smooth, clean hands, and thought it weird that a man wouldn’t want to even see the land he owned. Or part-owned.

‘We’ll all catch up again at the Easter Ball,’ said Bron, changing the subject. ‘I hope you’ll come. It’s legendary in this town.’

‘Of course we will,’ said Mrs Parker. ‘Chrissy has her heart set on it.’

Bron shot Kaydon a look that clearly said, You can thank me later.

Kaydon gave her a wry smile. Maybe this time she had got it right. Chrissy seemed nice. And beautiful. If she plastered posters all over town of him dancing with her, he’d be a legend in no time.