Page 61 of Nothing Without You

‘I don’t have a husband. It’s just me, and I’m chasing the job.’ She spoke quickly before he could stop her. ‘I ran a bait shop in Yeppoon for ten years. I have experience in every aspect of the business, from sales to ordering, to bookkeeping and customer service. I’m a Jack of all trades when it comes to working with fishing gear.’ She didn’t give Bert time to interrupt. ‘Unfortunately, my partner was killed and I have moved here to the island. I am looking for a job, and you won’t find anyone better than me.’

Bert’s bushy eyebrows raised high on his forehead and he made a funny clicking sound with his tongue. ‘I’m after a man. Most of our customers are men. Sorry, love.’

Taking a step closer to the counter, she dangled the hook she had rescued in front of him. ‘Mustad Viking 92553—known for its reliability and versatility when chasing bream. It has a special sharpened point, ensuring penetration and a secure hook-up. Traditional J-shape, consistent performance and good for freshwater rivers, estuaries, beaches and coastal bays. A trusted choice.’

Bert blinked and cleared his throat.

‘And it was about to fall on the ground. Do you realise Bert, that in today’s world, someone will sue you if that gets in their foot? I’m not only good with serving customers, but I know my stock and what the customer wants. There isn’t anything I can’t do. My bait shop was about the same size as this, so it would be easy for me to work here.’

Bert put his head down and started fixing the reel again. ‘We ain’t ever had a woman working in here. Even when my Eileen was alive, she stayed out of the shop. Only come in to bring us morning tea or lunch. I’m sorry, love. Maybe you can get a cleaning job at the new motel, or there’s a new dress shop that’s looking for someone a couple days a week.’

‘I’m looking for full-time work. I want to work five days a week, and if that includes Saturday and Sunday, I wouldn’t care.’

She could tell she had piqued his interest with that last bit. ‘If you employed me, you’d find your sales would increase, you’d be able to leave me to run the place by myself and …’ she gazed around, ‘I would have this place tidied up and ship-shape in no time.’

For a moment she thought he was interested. He looked to be in deep thought. But then … ‘Sorry love. I need a fella.’

Placing the hook down carefully on the counter in front of him, she placed her hands on the reel and held it steady as he worked on it. ‘That’s a shame, Bert, because you’ll never find a man or a woman who knows as much about bait and tackle as I do.’

Taking her hands away she straightened up, his eyes meeting hers as he looked up. ‘I’ll see you sometime Bert. You know I would have worked the first week for nothing. Then you could see how good I am. But anyway, I’ll see you later.’

She gave him a little smile and turned to walk slowly out of the shop. When she approached the door, she paused but didn’t look back. Taking a few more steps she got her car keys out, ready to drive off. She had just opened the car door when a voice sounded behind her.

‘Okay. Okay. I’ll give you a go. One week’s trial, and then we’ll see.’

Turning around she looked straight at him. ‘You won’t be sorry. I’ll be here at seven o’clock in the morning.’

Bert was still standing in the same spot, staring at her as she started the car, gave him a wave, and slowly drove away. She had a job, at Bert’s Bait Shop.

Chapter Seventy-Two

Two days later, Bert placed some papers in front of her. ‘It’s a work agreement, like a contract. Read it when you go home and if you want to change anything, just let me know. I’ll come in every second weekend and any days you need to have off. I don’t want to give work away completely, otherwise I’ll have nothing to do. I do want time off to go fishing though and fix my yard up.’

She looked down at him from where she stood on a ladder. The large blades of the fan that kept the hot summer air circulating had obviously never been cleaned. The dust must have been an inch thick, but eight buckets of soapy water and five rags later, she had them glistening. The casement windows, the shelves and even the bathroom out the back all looked brand new. Nothing had escaped her cleaning cloth.

Although there was a steady run of customers, there had also been time to get the place organised, and Bert stayed behind the counter, watching everything she did. He left for a while and came back with some fish and chips for them to share for lunch. ‘Take a break. You haven’t stopped. You’re making me feel guilty for sitting here behind the counter.’

Munching on a chip, she grinned at him. ‘I like to be busy, and I already love this shop. It just needs a clean and, if you don’t mind, I could reorganise the stock a bit better.’

Bert munched on a chip, his eyes roaming around the shelves and other items stacked and piled in different places. ‘I must admit, I haven’t had the same enthusiasm since Eileen died.’ He cast his eyes down. ‘She was the love of my life. I miss her every day.’

Evie patted his wrinkled hand. ‘She sounds like she was lovely. You’ll have to show me a photo so I know what she looked like when you talk about her.’

‘You got a boyfriend?’

‘No. I did, but he was killed. He wasn’t a very nice person. I’m starting my new life here on Stradbroke.’

‘Good for you,’ Bert said, ‘and good for Bert’s Bait Shop.’

After a couple of weeks, Bert started to take some days off and left her to run the shop by herself. By now she had rearranged the stock, and made lists of what she wanted to order. In the afternoons when she finished her shift, she made her way to the yard behind the shop. At the back of the building was an old fibro house where Bert lived. He had a couple of chairs under the shade of a huge fig tree, and the two of them would sit on the chairs and go over the catalogue books and new brochures that the big suppliers sent out.

Bert always had a cold bottle of sparkling apple juice and two glasses ready, and she loved sitting in the cool of the afternoon, talking to him. He had lived on the island for over thirty years and told her stories about the massive humpback whales that travelled northward on their annual migration along the coastline. He talked about the different fish he caught along the eastern beaches, and the turtles that made their way up the dunes to lay their eggs. Every part of the island had a special place in his heart, and when he was younger, he and his wife explored every nook and cranny, photographing and listing the different wildlife that lived on the island.

Evie loved his stories, and she sometimes wished she could put him and Matilda together and just sit and listen to them. One afternoon, Bert’s only son, Ezra, joined them. He was visiting from Melbourne and was amazed at the change in the shop. He hugged Evie and talked to her like he had known her all his life. ‘Thank God you came along. I love Dad to bits, but the last thing I want to do is live on this island where I’ve been all my life, and work in the same shop that Dad did. I’m an actor, and I’ve just started to get some good roles in the movies and TV shows they’re making down south. I just got a small part in a show called ‘A Country Practice’.

‘Wow. That’s great, and don’t worry, I’ll look after your dad and the shop. This job is perfect for me, and I have no intention of leaving the island. She had surprised herself when she said that, and for the first time she recognised that living on Stradbroke, where there wasn’t any traffic and not many people, suited her fine.

The following week, when she sat and had an afternoon drink with Bert, he talked a lot about Ezra and his hope of becoming a famous actor. Bert’s eyebrows always moved up and down when he became animated, and she loved listening to him and watching the different expressions that crossed his weathered face. ‘He’s gay, you know,’ Bert said suddenly, before taking a long sip from his drink.

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