Page 24 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘Oh, that man!’ Lynn said as she packed his shopping into a cardboard box. ‘I spent twelve months hinting I’d like him to come along, and another twelve straight-up telling him. May as well be talking to a brick wall for all the good it’s done me.’ She rolled her eyes dramatically, but Sean thought there was more than a trace of disappointment in her tone.

He handed over his credit card. ‘Maybe he doesn’t have the right clobber?’

‘Nothing special needed. Not for Tuesdays, anyway. It’s really just a practice session. The monthly dance in the old bank, though—’ Lynn inclined her head toward the top of the main street ‘—that’s when you’d better have your hat and boots on. Mandy will have your guts for garters, otherwise.’

‘Well, you might have had me persuaded, but now I’m terrified.’ He laughed as he hefted his box. ‘Are you headed home, Tracey? Need a hand with your bags?’

‘Oh, that’s lovely of you, Sean. I’d normally bring my car to get the groceries, but Bear needed a bit of a walk.’ Tracey nodded at the long-furred grey dog lying patiently at the end of the checkout. Without lifting his head from his paws, Bear looked up at him with chocolate eyes that spoke of his patience at spending many hours of his life waiting for his mum to finish chatting. ‘He’s getting a little slower now, so just a couple of blocks twice a day is plenty enough walking for him.’

Sean hooked two of Tracey’s bags onto his wrist and shouldered the door open. The summer fly strips had been taken down and in their place hung clusters of shiny round gumnuts, the size of walnuts. ‘New kind of insect repellent?’ he called to Lynn as he held the door for Tracey.

‘Kind of. That’s young Keeley. You know, Lucie Tamberlani’s daughter? The little girl at the RAG meeting at the start of the month. She’s following in her mum’s footsteps right enough: scraped those nuts out hollow and stuffed them with all kinds of things, like dried lemongrass and rosemary and lavender. She promises me they’ll keep out insects. And she made some with peppermint oil to put on the shelves out in the storeroom, because I always have trouble with mice once the weather turns chilly.’

He’d seen the girl at the meeting, sitting quietly in a corner, threading coloured rocks on a string. ‘How old is she?’

‘Just six. Smart little thing, she is. Said her mum can’t be taking care of everything, now she’s got a new little brother or sister on the way, so she’s taken it on herself to help out the family. Got her dad—well, stepdad, I suppose—Jack, in on the job, too, drilling holes for her to hang the nuts from.’

Sean nodded. ‘Got to admire that enterprise.’ He could remember when Charlee had been like that. Whip smart, innovative, into everything. ‘Tell you what.’ He juggled the box into the crook of his arm so he could pull out his wallet again. ‘I guess she wants cash? I should have a couple of twenties in there.’ He tossed the wallet onto the counter. ‘I’ll take whatever that will buy me.’

‘Oh, they’re only a dollar each, love, and I’ve probably got about a dozen.’

‘Take a twenty for her, then. And let her know I’ll buy another dozen whenever she wants to make them.’

Lynn carefully slid the twenty under the edge of the register and handed his wallet back. ‘Keeley will be so thrilled. I know she had her eye on a funny little duck toy for when the baby arrives.’

He was immediately tempted to head down the aisle Lynn indicated and pay for the toy for Keeley to give her unborn sibling, but throwing his money around to encourage Keeley’s entrepreneurism wasn’t going to bring back the Charlee of his memories. ‘I’ll come back later and unhook the nuts. You said Chloe will be in?’

‘Mmm.’ Lynn looked distracted, frowning out of the window, then glancing at her watch. ‘She’s running late. If you see her, tell her to hurry along, will you, Tracey?’

‘Of course,’ Tracey said as they left the shop. ‘You know, it’s such a shame about Ant,’ she confided as he strolled beside her down the slight slope of the street toward the river. A brisk breeze seized Tracey’s embroidered shopping bags, knocking them against Sean’s knees.

‘How so?’

‘Lynn won’t let on, but it would mean a lot if Ant would turn up at the dance once every so often. You can see he’s keen as anything on her, but he doesn’t seem to realise thathe has to do a bit more than just take her out for dinner once a week. Especially when the pub he’s taking her to is her own. That’s almost the same as coming around to her house for dinner.’

‘Hers? I thought Ant owned the Settlers.’

‘He does. And Lynn owns the Overland, dead opposite. You haven’t run into her there?’

‘I’ve only been there once or twice.’ Once. When he was feeling strong. ‘I saw her behind the counter, but assumed she was working there.’

‘Ah. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as busy as our Lynn. Of course, she always was. But since Michael died …’ Tracey shook her head meaningfully. ‘I guess Lynn is searching for purpose in her life. And that’s where Ant should come in, the silly man. It wouldn’t take much for him to turn out once a month for the dance.’

‘Maybe he’s worried about making a fool of himself?’

‘Rubbish,’ Tracey said firmly. ‘He hasn’t even thought that far. No, he’s quite comfortable with the way things are, thank you very much. He needs shaking out of that complacency.’

‘Does he now?’ Sean said consideringly.

Tracey glanced sideways. ‘Is that a mischievous twinkle I see in your eye? What do you have in mind, Sean?’

‘Nothing. At least, not just yet,’ he said. ‘But to paraphrase Ethan from the RAG meeting a few weeks back, a full mind stops empty hands getting up to no good.’

‘Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop?’

‘And idle lips his mouthpiece.’ Sean finished the proverb grimly, although he wasn’t thinking about gossiping and troublemaking, rather the years his lips had spent wrapped around a bottle. It wouldn’t do him any harm to have something else on his plate; something to distract from thecravings. And to take his mind from worrying about Heath and Charlee.

Tracey paused alongside a white van pulled up to the kerb. Magnetic Australia Post logos adorned the wide-open sliding door and a guy in his mid-twenties crouched inside among cream calico sacks, the tops cinched tight with leather straps and heavy buckles. He had a fistful of envelopes, which he was sorting into a narrow grey tray, and small parcels sat on the ledge behind the front seats.

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