Bottlebrush Creek Read online

  ‘Your mum went to a lot of trouble. I felt bad we hadn’t made it for Christmas Day before. And that pudding. I never knew you were such a sentimental bloke, Rob Jones.’

  ‘One of us has to be. I nearly lost it when Max waltzed in, expecting to play happy families,’ said Rob. He struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. ‘Gives me the shits that Mum didn’t even warn us. How the hell did she think it was going to go?’

  Angie opened the shed door and tiptoed towards the caravan. Transferring Claudia to her bunk bed was going to be tricky—the last thing they needed now was her waking up.

  ‘So you had no idea he was coming?’

  Rob ran a hand through his hair. ‘Wouldn’t have gone over there if I’d known. The quicker Max buggers back off to wherever he’s been, the better.’

  Twenty-two

  Boxing Day dawned warm and sunny, a replica of the day before. Angie hoisted the plastic milk feeder over the fence, hooking the metal anchors over the gate so the teats pointed out like a triple-breasted wet-nurse.

  ‘Steady on, you lot,’ she yawned, pouring in the first bucket of warm milk. The calves headbutted the green contraption, their gummy mouths scrambling for a teat. Milk splashed out the sides.

  ‘Welcome to feeding time at the zoo,’ said Rob, tipping the next bucket into the trough. The first rays of sunshine turned the foam around the calves’ mouths a golden hue, and warbling magpies accompanied the slurping noises as the calves guzzled their breakfast.

  When the milk was finished, the biggest two calves continued to suck loudly.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Angie, slipping a hand into each mouth. ‘Don’t want a bellyful of air.’

  Claudia wobbled precariously on the fence post as she patted their soft speckled coats. With both hands jammed in their mouths, Angie used her hips to brace Claudia, feeling like she was playing a game of Twister: left hand in one mouth, right foot away from the sloppy green poo, right hand in another mouth, left hip keeping Claudia from toppling to the ground. She watched Rob’s face soften as he hoisted their giggling girl onto his shoulders.

  Exhaustion was written in the dark circles under his eyes. They had both struggled to fall asleep. Angie had been surprised when Rob had knocked back their tried-and-true sleep remedy. That was a first. Understandable, she told herself after an hour of tossing and turning. Sex and a long-lost sibling didn’t belong in the same headspace. Sleep, when it had finally claimed them, had been restless.

  Angie hauled the feeding trough off the fence and hosed it down as Rob and Claudia stroked the calves. To ask or not to ask? Rob had shut down last time she’d queried him about Max, but now that he was here in person, their baggage would impact on her too. She switched the hose off and cleared her throat.

  ‘So, what is Max’s story?’

  Rob’s smile slipped away, replaced with a bitter look. ‘He screwed me over years ago and I haven’t wasted my time on him since.’

  The calves drifted away from the fence. Angie rested a hand on his arm—she could almost feel the anger pulsing through him. Was this really how she wanted to spend the first day of the rest of their lives? Better to come back to it when he’d cooled down.

  She tried another tack. ‘Let’s go for a ride—you, me and Claud in the sidecar. Have a stickybeak at those weatherboard houses you liked in Warrnambool, check out their finishings? Or we could work up a sweat painting weatherboards, then ride across to Yambuk and go on the giant slide.’

  ‘Beach, beach, beach!’ said Claudia, but Angie didn’t miss Rob’s quick glance across the paddock.

  ‘Happy to be anywhere but here until he clears out. I’d get us on the first plane to Darwin if we didn’t have the new calves to feed,’ Rob said, clenching his jaw.

  Or a house to renovate, thought Angie.

  Rob tensed as footsteps sounded at the front of the cottage. Max? He set down his paintbrush.

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Angie, climbing down from the small stepladder in her paint-splattered shirt.

  Rob continued to paint, struggling to keep his strokes even as he worked out what he’d say if it was Max. He’d lain awake for hours, but he still didn’t know how he was going to manage his brother.

  Shame rippled through his anger. Like everyone else, Angie probably thought twins should get along. She and her sisters were tight. And as Bobbi had pointed out at the pub, Angie had proved she could run a business, and manage staff and all the financial complexities. What will she think of me when she finds out the reason for my estrangement from Max?

  He slapped paint on the boards, not bothering to mop up the excess that dripped onto the path. Max has made his bed, he can sleep in it. It’s our cottage, and I’m going to prove I’ve got what it takes to fix it up. Damned if I’ll let Max spoil this for me too.

  His brushstrokes steadied as he heard car doors slamming and several voices coming from the driveway. Not Max then.

  He climbed down from the ladder, almost colliding with Claudia as she raced around the side of the cottage.

  Two more children were hot on her heels, shrieking with delight at the sight of the mulberry tree. They scrambled up the branches like little monkeys.

  Angie came around the corner, followed by a lady pushing a wheelchair. The man in the chair had aged immeasurably, but his big ears and gap-toothed smile were unmistakable. Rob rushed to greet his old neighbour and the woman who had babysat him when he was a boy.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Ivan, Lisa! So great to see you.’

  ‘You too, Rob, and so nice to meet your gorgeous fiancée. How about those kids!’ She nodded to the children in the tree. ‘I told my grandsons all about that tree, said it would be brimming with mulberries. They were my accomplices in jailbreaking Dad out of the old folks home today.’

  Ivan nodded, his eyes darting around the property.

  ‘Should’ve known you’d want to keep a keen eye on the project,’ said Rob. Ivan didn’t seem to hear, so Rob repeated himself, unsure whether he should crouch down or speak louder. In the end he did both, relieved when Ivan met his gaze.

  ‘What type of autumn crop are you planning? You’ll need to take some soil samples in the next month or so.’

  Rob laughed.

  ‘Once a farmer, always a farmer, right, Dad?’ Lisa lowered her voice and leaned close to Rob. ‘He’s here one minute, in his own world the next. But he seemed to perk up when we drove down Enderby Lane. Recognised the cottage straightaway, even with the new paint job and the fancy new sign.’

  They did a slow lap of the property, with Lisa marvelling at the progress as Angie and Rob filled them in on the renovations.

  ‘You’ve done a top job so far. We’ll come back next Christmas to see the finished product, won’t we, Dad,’ said Lisa. They all smiled, but Rob knew he wasn’t the only one wondering if Ivan would see another Christmas. As if sensing his thoughts, Ivan fixed him with a stern look.

  ‘Your mum didn’t need to worry, Rob. I would’ve looked after you even if she hadn’t put the extra sugar in my coffee,’ he said, with a tap of his nose and a wink.

  ‘Excuse me?’ said Angie, her smile faltering.

  Lisa shot them an apologetic look. ‘I think we’ve tuckered him out. You don’t even drink coffee, Dad.’

  Rob felt Angie’s hand in his as they waved Ivan and his family farewell.

  ‘It’s a bit of a sobering sight, isn’t it? Ivan was always the fittest bloke for miles, ran rings around Dad even though he was twenty years older.’

  ‘Wonder what Ivan meant about your mum.’

  Rob shrugged. ‘You heard Lisa, he’s not running on all cylinders these days. Come on, let’s finish painting that back wall. I’m almost ready for a swim.’

  Rosa wiped her hands on her overalls, the khaki fabric absorbing the grime. She sprayed the cow’s udder with iodine solution, making sure each teat was covered.

  Patting the cow’s black-and-white-splotched leg, she moved along to the next cow, waiting for the auto cup
remover to do its job.

  John moved behind her, gesturing to a speck of poo on her cheek. ‘You’re off with the pixies, love. Missed a bit.’

  Rosa let him rub her face with the end of his handkerchief. ‘Thanks,’ she sighed, trying to dredge up the enthusiasm to move on to the next cow. It was the same every morning and night: the milking machines didn’t wait for anyone. Dragging out the evening milking wouldn’t make her life easier, nor help the cows impatient to be unloaded and back in their paddocks for the last rays of golden sunshine.

  ‘She’ll be right, love. Don’t get your knickers in a knot over this blue. If Rob’s not man enough to share a postcode with his brother, then I’ll eat my hat,’ John said over his shoulder. ‘And remember what I said about meddling?’

  Rosa bowed her head. ‘I just wish Rob had given him a chance. Surely enough time has passed?’

  John clicked his tongue from the end of the aisle. ‘Just leave it be, Rosa. All good on your end?’

  Rosa attached milking cups to the cows on the opposite side. ‘All clear.’ She was so distracted. The last thing she needed was an unmilked cow walking out. She rubbed her spine, wishing she’d remembered to slather Deep Heat on her back beforehand.

  John opened the metal gate and patted the lead cow on the rump. ‘C’mon, girls, out you go.’

  Rosa walked along the pit to the opposite end of the dairy. With the press of a button, the feed troughs were refilled. They worked in tandem and in silence, John herding the fresh row of cows in and Rosa attaching the milking equipment on the other side.

  ‘I haven’t heard boo from Rob or Angie since Christmas, and now it’s nearly New Year’s. I’m babysitting our poppet tomorrow, so at least that’s something. But I just wish Rob would give Max another shot. Don’t you think there’s something we can do, John? I’ve had a word with Max—he’s happy to put it all behind them. He lost a lot of money too, not just Rob, remember.’

  ‘Best thing we can do is leave them to it. Rob and Max are big boys, they don’t need us fussing in their lives.’ John checked the milk flow monitor and then checked his watch, whistling at the time. ‘An extra set of hands will be handy for milking, but Max’s got a lot to learn. Still takes him too long to feed the calves. He should have been back here ten minutes ago.’

  Rosa rolled her eyes at John’s back as he ushered in a fresh batch of cows. If only he was as good with people as he was with cattle. She pulled out a packet of Panadol and washed the tablets down with a glass of milk, warm from the vat. The arthritis wasn’t helped by hours on the concrete floor. It was going to be up to her to sort this one out. A little nudge here and there and they’d soon be mending fences.

  The caravan parks were overflowing with tourists, and Port Fairview seemed to be in full holiday swing, but Angie was determined to make the Christmas to New Year’s break productive. Outsourcing Claudia next door was a stroke of brilliance, thought Angie as she surveyed her morning’s progress. More weatherboards coated and the chance to plant the weeping cherry tree her sisters had given her for Christmas, in memory of their mum.

  Violet danced on the end of her chain, her excited barks making the chickens rush to the opposite side of their new yard.

  ‘Right, Violet. Time to collect Claudia. No chasing cows, okay?’ She strapped on the leash and braced herself as the pup shot forwards.

  Violet strained at the lead the whole way across the paddock, and by the time Angie had reached Rosa and John’s fence, her arms felt like they’d been yanked from their sockets. The hot-pink roses lining the north wall of the dairy were in full bloom, reminding Angie of her mother’s beautiful rose gardens at McIntyre Park.

  Max wandered out of the calf shed. John’s border collies ran alongside him, catching the drips from the empty milk buckets he carried. He nodded at the excited pup. ‘Got your hands full?’

  Violet yipped with excitement and scrambled to join the other dogs.

  Angie gave a dry laugh. ‘Not trained yet, so she’s a bit mental.’ Angie’s arms twinged. ‘Violet!’ She yanked the pup back.

  ‘Might want to keep her tied up for a bit, there’s a mob of feral pigs on the move,’ Max said. ‘Bloke at the pub was talking about it last night, reckons there’s a heap of them in the blue gum plantations and the reserves.’

  Angie couldn’t help scanning the scrub at the back of their property. ‘The guy who did our new foundations said the same thing. Rob thought it was a crock of shit.’

  Max laughed and continued walking. ‘Good luck changing his mind, then. And tell Claud I’ve got a new calf for her to feed next time she’s over, though she’s going to need to come up with a better name than Princess Sparkles to impress Uncle Max.’

  Angie watched him for a beat, examining the familiar stride. He walked like Rob, talked like Rob, looked like Rob. Was he really as bad as his brother made him out to be?

  She tied Violet to the tank stand, well out of reach of the boot rack, and rapped on the screen door. ‘Knock, knock,’ she called, slipping her boots off.

  ‘Come in,’ called Rosa.

  Angie went inside, expecting to see Claudia at the bench with a plate of sandwiches and evidence of a morning spent drawing, reading and baking. Seeing her huddled in the corner took Angie by surprise.

  ‘Rough morning?’

  Rosa stepped away from the oven with a tray of sausage rolls. ‘We’ve had better.’

  Angie spotted a red scratch along Rosa’s cheek. ‘Woah, what happened?’

  ‘Tell Mummy, poppet.’ Rosa’s clipped voice worried Angie more than the scratch.

  A sob came from the corner.

  ‘There was a misunderstanding. Claudia thought it was a good idea to bite Granny when she didn’t get what she wanted. It’s happened a few times now. I didn’t say anything because I thought we’d dealt with it, but today I bit her back. And that’s when she scratched me. Hence the timeout and naughty corner.’

  Angie’s stomach plummeted. Claudia had never bitten an adult before. But she wasn’t sure which piece of news alarmed her most: Claudia scratching and biting her grandmother or Rosa biting her back.

  ‘You bit her … ? How on Earth is that supposed to teach her anything?’

  Angie stepped back from the island bench, the rapport she’d begun to feel with Rosa crumbling like a top-heavy sandcastle. As much as she appreciated Rosa offering to take Claudia for a few hours, she couldn’t condone this. Wouldn’t condone this. ‘Angie, really. I did the exact same thing to Rob and Max when they started biting and it cleared it up straightaway. She needs to understand how much it hurts.’

  Angie shook her head, lost for words. ‘Come on, Claudia. It’s very naughty to bite people. Say sorry to Granny and we’ll head home.’ She scooped Claudia up and backed out of the farmhouse. Her pace matched her mood. Who the hell bites a child? She pulled the phone from her pocket and tried Rob’s number. It went straight to voicemail. ‘Rob, you won’t believe this. Call me.’

  Angie struggled to hold onto her temper as she strode to the cottage, yanking Violet’s lead sharply when the dog veered towards the pile of discarded weatherboards.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand. Lowering Claudia to the ground, she sat on the edge of the sandpit and answered Rob’s call.

  ‘Ange, what’s up? Don’t tell me the dahlia committee have added more jobs to your list?’ Angie flinched. His mum’s latest prank blew the demands of little old Mrs Ellis out of the water. And Rosa was the one who had landed her on the committee in the first place.

  ‘Your mum bit Claudia! Apparently Claud’s been biting again. Did you know?’

  Angie dropped the dog’s lead as she rubbed her neck. Violet bounded towards the woodpile by the sandpit. Her high-pitched barking amplified the beginning of a headache.

  Angie wasn’t sure what response she had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been laughter. ‘You think it’s funny? Jesus, Rob, I’m fuming!’

  ‘Mum loves telling the story of how she cured our biting. I�
��m surprised you haven’t heard it before. Like when she caught me smoking, and she locked me in the wood shed and made me smoke the whole darn packet before I could come out. Sounds harsh, but it worked both times. Maybe you’re overreacting?’

  ‘Overreacting?’ Angie sucked in an incredulous breath.

  Violet’s barking increased.

  ‘You still there, Ange? What’s the dog doing? Ange?’

  Angie stood up and strode towards the woodpile. ‘That dog has probably bailed up a rabbit or something. Maybe one of those feral pigs everyone’s talking about.’

  Rob groaned. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Don’t let Mum bother you, Ange. She means well. And don’t read too much into the wild pig stuff, either. The nutcases will be rolling out the Grampians mountain-lion conspiracy theories and the Tantanoola tiger legend if they think they’ll get a rise out of someone.’

  Angie shoved the phone into her back pocket, annoyed at the brush-off. She vented her frustration at the dog. ‘Get out of it, Violet. Out!’

  The dog wouldn’t budge. Angie felt Claudia’s hand slip into hers as she bent down to see what the pup had found in the woodpile. A coil of brown and yellow caught her eye. Angie leaped backwards.

  ‘Snake!’ She swept Claudia up and rushed her to the cottage verandah, grabbing the spade she kept by the back door. She ran back and thrust it into the woodpile. The snake reared up, surging forwards and striking at Violet. The dog sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the bite. Adrenaline kicked in and Angie brought the spade down again, slicing the reptile in half.

  She dragged Violet away by the collar. Even though she knew the writhing reptile wasn’t going anywhere, it was still deadly. Angie’s knuckles were white as she clung to the spade. She thought of the snake biting, of Rosa biting, of Claudia biting, and she brought the spade down again and again and again until the creature’s venomous fangs were still. Angie bit back a sob as she looked at the pieces of snake. She’d grown up with snakes, remembered Angus dashing for his gun whenever one slithered too close to the house, but never before had she killed one. She shrieked and dropped the garden tool when something brushed her hand.