Page 58 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘You’ll have time to work in the office and do this?’ He wouldn’t have thought temping would provide enough funds for the animals Amelia already had, never mind the entire zoo he could imagine his daughter was planning.

‘Dad,’ Charlee warned around her mouthful of bread. ‘Boring.’

Amelia gave an amused snort. ‘No. Perhaps I’ve finally done my penance.’ She gave him a look that spoke volumes. ‘I won’t extend my contract when it runs out in a few weeks. Though I think if we set this thing up and stick with only baby farm animals—that’s what you said is most popular, isn’t it, Charlee?—plus some guinea pigs and rabbits, that kind of thing, this is something Charlee will be able to run by herself.’

‘More fun if we’re both in it, though.’ The plaintive note in his daughter’s voice made it seem she wanted—no,craved—the interaction with the other woman.

And that instantly reminded him of what he’d stolen from his daughter, the ways in which he’d failed her.

22

Amelia

Amelia had noticed that Charlee seemed emotionally younger than her age, but she found that neediness and Charlee’s tendency to emulate her both flattering and endearing. Her new understanding of the tragedy of the Brennans’ lives helped smooth things over with Heath. She could see that he loved his daughter, but struggled to find the best way to help her. That insecurity was endearing, tempering the surliness that she now recognised as armour.

‘We will be in it together,’ she assured Charlee. ‘At least for a while, to get the farmyard up and running. I don’t imagine that will be an overnight thing. But the biggest problem we have is that small animals tend to grow into large animals. We’re going to have to put out feelers to see if there’s somewhere with land enough to agist all these animals when they grow too big. I don’t think we want to be piling five billy goats into a horse float, nor do suburban mums want a full-grown bull munching on their flower beds. So we need a retirement plan for them.’

Charlee was watching for her father’s reaction and Amelia hoped Heath wouldn’t realise the lines had been rehearsed, and that he was being manipulated into offering to house the animals. Or, if he did realise, that he’d intuitively know Charlee would appreciate his surrender more if she thought it reluctant. Amelia had quickly learned that Charlee loved a chance to prove her arguing prowess, even if her logic was sometimes sketchy. The travelling farm would engage her attention far better if she felt she’d had to fight to justify it.

‘Speaking of large animals …’ Heath said, as their plates were delivered to the table, steak overflowing the slabs of sourdough.

‘Dad!’ Charlee screwed up her nose.

Heath picked up his knife and pointed at her plate. ‘Don’t see you going vegetarian over there. No point pretending not to know where your food comes from.’

‘Friends or food, the age-old dilemma,’ Charlee said lugubriously, though she tackled her sandwich with gusto.

‘I don’t know about age-old,’ Heath said. ‘Don’t think the Neanderthals had too much of a problem deciding.’

‘Different race, Dad,’ Charlee said, her words loaded with the full force of teenage scorn.

Amelia caught Heath’s small smile and realised he’d successfully diverted his daughter’s train of thought. Either he was aware of the need to play her or he was buying time to consider the idea of housing the animals. ‘I’ve always had kind of a weird thing about that, too,’ she said. ‘We butchered our own stock; it was a necessity because the property was so remote. And, while I can carve up an animal, I could never eat anything I’ve named. Got to draw a line somewhere, you know?’

‘A property? That’s where you learned to fly?’ Heath asked.

She nodded. ‘Where, but not why. I’m not a stock pilot, that’s a whole ’nother ball game. I just love the freedom of flying. The solitude.’

‘So dangerous, though,’ Charlee interrupted, her forehead creased.

‘Statistically less dangerous than—’ Amelia broke off, pushing a chip around her plate as she tried to cover up the comparison she’d been about to make. Charlee’s missing mother was proof that car travel was more dangerous. ‘Maybe it’s that, in the air, you realise that the world is so much vaster than your own little experience. We’re so … inconsequential. But it’s hard to see that when you’re one of the ants, milling around on the ground with a billion other ants. Up there you get the big picture …’ Dropping the chip, she spread her arms wide to illustrate. ‘And you realise that no matter your emotions or hurts or joy or anything else, you’re such a tiny little atom in the universe that you have no impact on anyone else.’

Heath shook his head. ‘I don’t think you’re right. I get the bit about us being ants in the scheme of things, but everything we feel, everything we do, every decision, every behaviour impacts others.’

He looked at Charlee as he spoke, though she was focused on her food now, and Amelia could see the sorrow in his eyes. It was clear that his wife was not all he had lost in the car crash. He might not always make the right decisions, but this man loved his daughter with everything that was in him. And that was grounding: for so long, she’d felt that she had a monopoly on that kind of love, that no one hurt over Noah’s death as much as she did. Her parents had sold the property and run from any pain, Tim had turned to drink and his mates to drown his sorrow. Each had found a way to deal. Only she had been left to bear the grief, and she’dthought perhaps she was alone in the world. Yet, behind Heath’s often brusque exterior, she could see he hurt every bit as much as she did.

So was there a hidden danger? Should they stay away from one another? Because what if their grief fed off the other’s, their addiction to punishing themselves multiplying and intensifying? Could they actually be toxic to one another?

Heath pushed away his plate, and Amelia realised he’d eaten less than her or Charlee, despite them having morning tea only a couple of hours earlier. ‘The thing about retiring animals,’ he said slowly, as though he was thinking the problem through, ‘is that it’s not only about housing them.’

‘Yeah, they have to be fed. Obviously.’ Charlee rolled her eyes.

Heath shook his head. ‘Not that. If these animals are accustomed to being petted, it’s not fair to take them away from that and just stick them out in a paddock. They’ve become habituated to human touch and attention. They’ll still need that.’

Charlee looked a little deflated.

Guilt coiled uncomfortably inside Amelia. Had she encouraged Charlee to get excited about an unrealistic dream? ‘I guess I’ve always kept my animals with me, so I’ve never really thought beyond the fact that “retirement” seems to be a universal goal. You know, older animals get “put out to pasture”, and that’s when they get the good life. But you’re right, maybe it’s not so great in these circumstances. I know I’ll never let Karmaa and Kismet be put in a paddock where they’re not close enough for me to pet every day.’

The last words were almost a challenge to Heath. They still hadn’t discussed whether her sheep were fostered or adopted,and she hadn’t worked out how or where she planned to keep them long term. But the fact that she wouldn’t contemplate having them agisted more than a few minutes from her meant that she should have thought this travelling farm scheme through more thoroughly, instead of getting swept up in Charlee’s enthusiasm and her own eagerness to provide the teen with something that was clearly missing from her life. And perhaps she’d been too focused on the unexpected opportunity to fill a deep-seated need in her own life—the child-shaped hole in her heart.

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