he’d appeared more often and Amanda had sensed a subtle change in their relationship. He’d be at the kitchen table when Amanda came in to grab some lunch or sitting in the lounge room watching the news when she finished work for the evening. He’d started to make conversation more too.
Last night’s conversation was still fresh in Amanda’s mind. She’d known that Brian wanted to talk to her about something as he’d come in while she’d been cooking tea. Almost dropping with tiredness, Amanda knew that she had to eat properly, so every night she tried to cook. Last night she couldn’t bring herself to face the stove, so she’d popped her head into the living room and said that baked beans on toast was on the menu. Her father had smiled at her briefly and said that sounded good then turned back to the news.
Unexpectedly, he’d arrived in the kitchen before she called him and sat at the table, facing her. Amanda could see him looking at the once cream-coloured walls. Above the stove, they were now a grimy brown from the grease that had risen over the past months. Amanda knew her father was thinking of all the times he’d come into the kitchen to see Helena scrubbing the wall. She’d wanted a rangehood for so long but it had never eventuated. Amanda didn’t have the time to scrub walls.
Her father cleared his throat and began uncertainly. ‘I’ve been thinking about your mum’s grave. We need to put a headstone up.’
‘We can’t do it for about a year, Dad. I looked into it not long after the funeral. I hated to think of her lying there unnamed, people not knowing who is buried in that grave. But it’s got something to do with the earth settling properly before they can put up a headstone.’
Amanda took the toast, buttered it and poured the baked beans onto the plate.
Her father nodded. ‘That’s right. I remember now from when Dad died.’ There was silence. ‘Have you got any ideas about what you want on it?’
Amanda flopped at the table and handed over a plate. ‘I can’t think of the right words to describe how special she was yet.’
‘Me either.’ They ate in companionable silence for a while.
‘I really miss her,’ Brian said.
Amanda was quiet. It was the first time that he’d said anything of the sort. ‘Me too. Is it getting any easier for you?’ she asked delicately.
Her father chewed slowly and then shook his head. ‘What about for you?’
Amanda tried to analyse how she felt. On the one hand, she didn’t have time to miss her mother. But she longed for her.The conversations, the laughter. Amanda had always wanted to work with her and it would never happen now. Not able to find the words, she just shrugged and her father nodded as if understanding her feelings – maybe for the first time.
Coming out of her thoughts, she looked at her dad and asked ‘How would have you handled Slay during the crutching, Dad?’
There was a silence as her father took a sip of his drink and scanned the horizon. Waiting for him to answer, Amanda looked over and noticed he’d stiffened.
‘Looks like someone’s coming up the drive.’ Brian said, ignoring her question. She took a swig of her beer; despite the chill of the air, the beer was warm and flat. She screwed up her nose.
‘Who’d be coming here now?’ she wondered. ‘It’s nearly dark.’
‘Not expecting anyone?’
‘No.’
They watched as the lights from the car came closer. Amanda couldn’t really make it out in the darkness, but it looked like some sort of four-wheel drive.
She frowned as Brian leaned forward in his chair, suddenly watching intently.
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ he murmured quietly. ‘After all this time. What the hell does he think he’s doing, showing up on my farm?’ His voice began to rise in anger. ‘You make bloody sure he knows he’s not welcome here.’
Amanda looked at her father in surprise. His face was bright red and furious. As she watched, her dad stood bolt upright,
Last night’s conversation was still fresh in Amanda’s mind. She’d known that Brian wanted to talk to her about something as he’d come in while she’d been cooking tea. Almost dropping with tiredness, Amanda knew that she had to eat properly, so every night she tried to cook. Last night she couldn’t bring herself to face the stove, so she’d popped her head into the living room and said that baked beans on toast was on the menu. Her father had smiled at her briefly and said that sounded good then turned back to the news.
Unexpectedly, he’d arrived in the kitchen before she called him and sat at the table, facing her. Amanda could see him looking at the once cream-coloured walls. Above the stove, they were now a grimy brown from the grease that had risen over the past months. Amanda knew her father was thinking of all the times he’d come into the kitchen to see Helena scrubbing the wall. She’d wanted a rangehood for so long but it had never eventuated. Amanda didn’t have the time to scrub walls.
Her father cleared his throat and began uncertainly. ‘I’ve been thinking about your mum’s grave. We need to put a headstone up.’
‘We can’t do it for about a year, Dad. I looked into it not long after the funeral. I hated to think of her lying there unnamed, people not knowing who is buried in that grave. But it’s got something to do with the earth settling properly before they can put up a headstone.’
Amanda took the toast, buttered it and poured the baked beans onto the plate.
Her father nodded. ‘That’s right. I remember now from when Dad died.’ There was silence. ‘Have you got any ideas about what you want on it?’
Amanda flopped at the table and handed over a plate. ‘I can’t think of the right words to describe how special she was yet.’
‘Me either.’ They ate in companionable silence for a while.
‘I really miss her,’ Brian said.
Amanda was quiet. It was the first time that he’d said anything of the sort. ‘Me too. Is it getting any easier for you?’ she asked delicately.
Her father chewed slowly and then shook his head. ‘What about for you?’
Amanda tried to analyse how she felt. On the one hand, she didn’t have time to miss her mother. But she longed for her.The conversations, the laughter. Amanda had always wanted to work with her and it would never happen now. Not able to find the words, she just shrugged and her father nodded as if understanding her feelings – maybe for the first time.
Coming out of her thoughts, she looked at her dad and asked ‘How would have you handled Slay during the crutching, Dad?’
There was a silence as her father took a sip of his drink and scanned the horizon. Waiting for him to answer, Amanda looked over and noticed he’d stiffened.
‘Looks like someone’s coming up the drive.’ Brian said, ignoring her question. She took a swig of her beer; despite the chill of the air, the beer was warm and flat. She screwed up her nose.
‘Who’d be coming here now?’ she wondered. ‘It’s nearly dark.’
‘Not expecting anyone?’
‘No.’
They watched as the lights from the car came closer. Amanda couldn’t really make it out in the darkness, but it looked like some sort of four-wheel drive.
She frowned as Brian leaned forward in his chair, suddenly watching intently.
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ he murmured quietly. ‘After all this time. What the hell does he think he’s doing, showing up on my farm?’ His voice began to rise in anger. ‘You make bloody sure he knows he’s not welcome here.’
Amanda looked at her father in surprise. His face was bright red and furious. As she watched, her dad stood bolt upright,
Similar Books
