11 SEAN

11 Sean

‘Just caught me, lovey.’ Lynn turned from chatting with Tracey as Sean plonked his groceries on the counter.

‘Wish I was that lucky, Lynn,’ he said with a grin as he used the carton of milk to slide his bread and vegies along the counter toward her register. Streaks of dark wood showed through where decades of shuffled groceries had rubbed the cream paint away. ‘Didn’t know you closed up early on a Tuesday.’

Lynn examined each of his items as though checking on his diet. ‘Not closing; Chloe will be here to take over in a couple of minutes. Second Tuesday of the month is for line dancing.’

‘Ah, I saw something about that on the noticeboard outside the post office.’

Tracey executed a little jig, which he assumed were steps from the dance. ‘You should come along. You and Heath.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Lynn agreed, smoothing her apron across her stomach. ‘We were just saying that it’s nice to see you both in town a bit more often now.’

‘That might be pushing it a bit for Heath,’ he said carefully. ‘Both the dancing and the socialising.’

‘Not for you, though?’ Lynn said, and Sean recognised his mistake. He should have led with a regretful excuse. ‘I tell you, we’re awful short of men at the dance, aren’t we, Tracey? Well, not that you want one, or that we actually need them—it’s not a partnered kind of thing. But it’s always nice to have a bit more balance.’

‘Ladies, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were propositioning me.’

Tracey tittered.

‘You hardly know me at all, lovey,’ Lynn retorted, then surprised him by blushing as Tracey gasped.

‘You’ve not persuaded Ant to go along, then?’ Sean said hurriedly. It hadn’t taken him long to catch up on that bit of local gossip: apparently Lynn and the owner of one of the two pubs had been having something of a slow-burn relationship for years.

‘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 that he 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 the cravings. 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.

‘Hello, love,’ Tracey called. ‘Roni mentioned that you’d cut back on the farm to take on the post contract.’

The guy moved out of his awkward crouch, almost tumbling from the vehicle, then stretched with a grimace. ‘Lachlan Mac was keen to take on some extra hectares to share farm, so I figured that after five years of doing a job the old man set up for me, I should probably find something myself.’ He waved at the van. ‘Contracts don’t come up until the new financial year, but Brody needed someone to do the run while he and his missus are away on that cruise. Thought I’d give it a spin. This “get on the road and be your own boss” gig seemed like it would be a winner.’ Despite his words, the man’s tone was uncertain. ‘But I tell you, lived here all my life and I never realised how many roadside delivery boxes there are in the district. And I didn’t allow for all the parcels, either,’ he added, gesturing for them to look inside the van. The rear was piled high with boxes and padded bags of all shapes and sizes. ‘I’m delivering everything from mufflers to live bees.’

‘Sean would be one of your roadside deliveries, then? He’s out at the old Wegener place. You know, the one Marian’s husband took over?’ Tracey asked. ‘Though that would have been before you were born. Oh, sorry, Sean Brennan, this is Ryan Smithton.’

‘Wait.’ Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Brennan. RSD 691, Frahn Road, right? It’s a sideways milk churn. Was painted red, mostly just rusted now. Has the mother of all huntsman spiders living in it.’

Sean chuckled. ‘You’re right. Though I can’t say I’ve seen the huntsman.’

‘That’s because she likes to hitch a ride on your outgoing mail,’ Ryan said in a woebegone tone. ‘Number of times I’ve had to double back to your box to drop her home … But don’t worry, yours isn’t the only roadside mailbox with a resident.’ He shook Sean’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you, in any case. Hey, wait up … Are you one of the guys rattling old Dave’s cage by talking about setting up a skatepark?’

‘I don’t know that we set out to rattle any cages but, yeah, it’d be my granddaughter’s—’ he hesitated ‘—friend, Ethan, who came up with the idea.’

‘Well, you got Dave worked up all right, so buy this Ethan a beer for me, okay?’ Ryan grinned. ‘Dave’s a narky old bugger, always complaining about his mail being wet even though his box is an ag chemical drum nailed to the fence. May as well be a rain gauge, seeing as it collects every drop.’ He turned back to the van. ‘I’m getting a bit old for that kind of thing myself, but my bro, Alex, will be all over a skatepark. We could do with a bit of life in this town.’

‘You’re not too old,’ Tracey said. ‘It’s only a few years since you were in nappies, love, and I should know! Besides, you’re a good ten years younger than Ethan.’

Lucky Heath wasn’t around to hear that one. ‘Why don’t you and Alex come along to the next meeting?’ Sean suggested. ‘It’s open house, we’re keen to hear everyone’s thoughts. And we won’t get any action unless locals are there pushing for it. And pushing back against those who aren’t so eager.’

Ryan snorted. ‘Dave, you mean? Tempting as that makes it, I’m kind of full-on, man.’ He gestured at the parcels, as though he expected to still be delivering them when the meeting was on. ‘What with this, and still doing some work out at Roni’s farm. But I’ll give Alex a heads-up, see if he’s keen.’

Sean recognised the blow-off. Apathy was always the biggest stumbling block in getting any new idea moving. ‘No worries. Hope we’ll see at least one of you there, then.’

‘Goodness, this skateboard thing really seems to be taking off,’ Tracey said, clicking her tongue at Bear, who had taken the interruption as an excuse to lie down. His pointy black ears swivelled and he slowly lumbered to his feet. ‘It’s incredible you’ve already got this up and running.’

‘I think we’re a long way from that,’ Sean said, though in truth, it was rather nice to have accolades directed his way. It had been a while. ‘We’re not even walking, never mind running. And it sounds like Dave is drumming up support for his anti-campaign.’

Tracey shook her head, seeming oblivious to the wind blowing her wild curls every which way. ‘No, love, this is going to take off. I can feel it. The way you whipped everyone into line at the meeting, I’ve never seen anything like it. What were you doing before you came to Settlers?’

His heart stuttered before he realised the question wasn’t particularly personal. He’d become too immersed in Heath’s need for seclusion and privacy. ‘Corporate work. Allied health services. Took a bit of a step back and a change in direction a few years ago, though.’ A ‘step back’ being a euphemism for a golden handshake designed to quietly move a high-functioning alcoholic off the department’s wage book.

‘To become a farmer? You’re running a few sheep out there, I hear?’

Of course she had. ‘I am. But, no, I went into life coaching. Just haven’t really got back into it since we moved here.’

‘Life coaching. I can imagine you’d be good at that, love.’

‘Oh, you know what life coaching is?’

‘Not a clue,’ Tracey said airily. ‘But you’ve got that manner about you. Likeable, that’s what you are. Down to earth, my friend Marian would have said. And she had a fine eye for picking out the gems in a mullock heap.’

He chuckled. ‘Mullock heap? That what Settlers Bridge is?’

‘Oh, not at all. Though I don’t mind telling you, a few years back it wasn’t as lively as it is now.’

‘Lively?’ He struggled not to sound too disbelieving.

‘I’ll say. It’s so exciting to see everything happening in Settlers Bridge over the last few years.’

‘Such as?’ Although the main street boasted some impressive sandstone buildings, and he was thrilled with the service the GP offered, it seemed the town was stuck in a somnolent time warp, content to exist rather than thrive. Dave’s opposition to the skatepark—or any progress, apparently—attested to that. On the other hand, he thought, mentally evening up the scoreboard, the majority of attendees at the RAG meeting hadn’t been adamantly opposed to growth, although it was clear they wanted to retain their country roots.

‘Well, there’s Roni’s animal rescue, Gabrielle’s inn, Lucie’s … Oh, I’m never sure what to call her thing. It’s like a chemist, but she only uses plants and good stuff, you know? And then there’s Samantha—’ She shook her head as though this last was beyond belief. ‘Well, I’m not too sure about that one, but if the talk at the CWA is true, we might lose Ploughs and Pies. Of course, that doesn’t mean we’ll get something to replace it, which will be a shame.’

‘Maybe you should look into opening a cafe?’

Tracey giggled. ‘Oh, goodness me, no. I’d love to help out with the baking, but running a business? Oh, no, no, not for me.’ She pointed across the road to a dusty shopfront, the window emblazoned with gilt lettering. ‘Though, if I was going to open a shop, I’d get Tractors and Tarts up and running again.’

‘Interesting name.’

‘Ploughs and Pies one side, Tractors and Tarts opposite. Settlers Bridge used to be busy enough to support a cafe and a bakery. Maybe we’ll get back there again. Though tarts puts me more in mind of …’ She drifted off, fiddling with Bear’s lead. Then she shot a glance at Sean. ‘Years ago, I said to Marian that I’d love to have an op shop. To raise money for a good cause, like the Flying Docs. I could use Tractors and Tarts. Put the farm and work wear on one side—you know, tractors. And women’s wear on the other. Tarts .’

He guffawed, surprising himself with the sudden lightness of spirit. ‘I like your vision, but I’m not too sure that name would be politically correct.’

Tracey waved off his caution. ‘We don’t care about that kind of rubbish out here.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘When you get to know me better, you’ll discover I rather like bending the “rules”.’

Sean was struck by how Tracey seemed to embrace life, the simple joy she evidently found in strolling the main street of a tiny country town, chatting about people and memories and dreams. ‘In that case, Tracey, I think I most definitely want to get to know you better.’