The Party Line by Sue Orr Page B

nightdress against his cheek, he closed his eyes and gently breathed in and out. He was sleeping next to Bridie.
    He switched the light back on. The blouse and the nightdress he would not wash, not ever. He folded them carefully and put them to one side.
    The rest of Gabrielle’s clothes went into the tub. He needed to talk to her about why she was wearing Bridie’s things. Did she not have enough of her own clothes? Did she need new ones? He would never notice. Would she ask him?
    Not tonight, though. He was not ready for the conversation yet.
     
    Car lights shone in through the window of the little shed. The vehicle pulled to a stop near the end of the gravel. The headlights went out. It was Jack.
    Ian put the blouse and the nightdress carefully on a shelf and came to the doorway.
    ‘Ian,’ said Jack, as he walked towards the door. His head was down and his hands were in his trouser pockets.
    ‘Hello, Jack.’
    ‘Got a minute? I would have phoned first but your line was engaged …’
    ‘Sorry … that’d be Gabrielle. She’s got a new friend at school.’
    ‘You’ll have to remind her you’re on a party line. It’s all party lines around here. She’ll piss everyone off if she sits on the phone all night.’
    ‘I will tell her, thanks Jack. I’ve left her to it, it’s just good to see her making friends. But you’re right.’
    ‘Ha,’ said Jack. ‘Tell her other people listen in. The mothers. Tell her that. That should sort her out. Anyway. Just wanted a word about this morning.’
    Ian had been waiting for this. Right until he started the washing, he’d thought of nothing else. It was all over. They’d be on the road.
    Jack pulled his cap off his head and scratched at the back of his scalp. Then he flicked the hat back on his head.
    ‘Have you got a rifle, Ian?’
    ‘Ah … to be honest with you, Jack, no. I had a gun, a while back. But something happened, a bit of a near miss to an accident, and I got rid of it. Brid … my wife, she didn’t want it in the house. Not with a kid around.’
    All of that was true. Ian watched Jack shuffle his feet, looking at the ground. Every time Ian mentioned Bridie to another male, the reaction was the same.
    ‘Well, look, you need one. For situations like today.’
    Ian felt the tension seep out of his neck. ‘Yes, I know. You’re right. I should have one. I should have gone and bought a new one, after …’
    ‘Never mind all that now,’ said Jack quietly. ‘I’ve got a spare at home. You can use that until you get yourself sorted out. You’re supposed to have a licence but. Have you still got your licence from the other one?’
    ‘No.’ Ian had never had a licence. Again, not a lie, as such.
    ‘Well, you’ll need to sort that out. I’ll drop the rifle off tomorrow.’
    Jack stepped back into the darkness. Ian listened to the crunch of his boots on the gravel. He’d spent all afternoon imagining how the conversation would go. Not once did he anticipate it turning out like that.
    ‘Oh, Ian?’
    Ian looked out the doorway. Jack had stopped at his car door.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘That calf. It could never have lived, you know. So early, half its bloody organs wouldn’t have even developed. I had no choice …’
    Ian looked at Jack’s silhouette. It was quite still. Behind Jack, at the bright bare window of the kitchen, Gabrielle was watching. She waved to Ian, he waved back at her. The window was shut. She couldn’t hear what was being said.
    ‘I know, Jack. It was a bloody shame, wasn’t it?’
    ‘But you know, sometimes with those calves, even though they’re going to die, there’s something in them.’
    Ian wasn’t sure what Jack meant.
    ‘There’s some kind of will. What I’m saying is that they don’t give in so easily, when the moment comes. Like today, for example. It taking more than one blow.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘That’s why you need a gun.’
    ‘Like I said, Jack. It was a bloody shame.’
    Ian hesitated in the doorway of the wash