It seemed a million miles from the responsibilities of a mortgage, a stressful job, and her grief. She’d done this often as a child: hidden herself away from it all in her own style of meditation. Now she felt so at peace she was annoyed she’d let herself grow up and get caught up in the web of city life. But everything was a compromise; a quiet farm meant being at the mercy of the seasons and other uncontrollable forces. No, there was no way she could ever live this way again.
Sitting back at Bernadette’s kitchen table, Claire looked up from her laptop as her friend made a loud bustling entrance, laden with over-flowing calico shopping bags.
‘So sorry I’m late. Old Mrs Jericho couldn’t make up her mind between the Edwardian or Victorian settings.’
‘No worries.’
‘I’m starving. Let’s eat, then get you over to the farm before you chicken out.’ Bernadette tipped a pile of butcher’s paper-wrapped parcels and large loaf of crusty bread onto the table.
‘I’ve already been,’ Claire said quietly.
Bernadette stopped with the calico bag still aloft. ‘Oh,’ she said.
Claire shrugged. ‘Yeah, it just felt right.’
Bernadette got out plates and cutlery and brought them to the table.
‘Was it okay?’ Bernadette asked. They’d spent so many hours this year with arms wrapped around each other, Claire sobbing, Bernadette fighting back tears of sympathy. She’d really hoped those clouds were behind them.
‘No. Depressing.’ Claire laughed, trying to play her mood down.
‘I knew it would be – that’s why I didn’t want you going alone.’ Bernadette thought Claire had been a little hasty in getting rid of the horses, like she’d been waiting for the opportunity. She’d tried to talk her out of it, had even offered to feed them and keep an eye on them herself. But Claire had been adamant.
‘It was like those ghost towns you read about – void of life. There was even iron flapping in the wind.’
‘Oh Claire.’ Bernadette moved to put her arms around her best friend, but Claire waved her away.
‘Don’t. I’ll become a basket case.’ Claire laughed tightly.
‘Focus on the positives – he’s going to pull through. Remember, where there’s life there’s hope.’
Unlike with Keith, who was gone forever. The unspoken words hung between them. Bernadette really felt for Claire – the poor thing had had one hell of a year.
Even though Bernadette had no evidence, she wondered if the universe was conspiring to get Claire back up into the Adelaide Hills. Maybe it was just selfishness, wishful thinking on her part. Claire’s husband had been cruelly taken – that certainly wouldn’t do anything to bring her back. Instead, it had made her focus more on her career in order to outrun the memories. And Jack’s accident and confinement to hospital just served to drive her further into the safety of the city’s hustle and bustle.
She looked up suddenly at hearing Claire’s voice, and wondered how long she’d been lost in her musing.
‘Sorry?’
‘You were miles away. I was just saying I put a couple of nails in some loose iron on the stables.’
‘Bit dangerous to do on your own, don’t you think?’
‘Probably, but it felt good. You know, actually doing something for Dad. For the briefest moment everything was back to normal – before…’
‘Did you check inside the house?’
‘No. I know I should have, but I just couldn’t.’
‘There’s nothing you should or shouldn’t do, Claire. You do it when it feels right and don’t when it doesn’t. There are no rules.’
‘God I wish I could be like you – not a worry in the world.’
‘Hey, I’ve got plenty I could worry about. I just choose to change what I can and ignore what I can’t. And it’s taken a lot of practice. Remember, I wasn’t always like this.’
Claire remembered all right. Remembered Bernadette worrying constantly about exam results and subject choices for the best career, while she’d just gone along following the subjects and teachers she liked without giving the future much thought. She’d almost forgotten what a stress-head her best friend had been: the time the ambulance had been called when she’d had a panic attack during the year eleven maths exam; the masses of hives that erupted before opening her HSC results.
Now she thought about it, Claire realised it was bizarre how things had changed – not that she could be called a worrywart, she decided firmly.
Chapter Four
At work, Claire got herself into a routine blur where she managed to wade through her mass of emails and remove a number of items from her long to do list. She was feeling a little better – less snowed under and more optimistic regarding Jack’s recovery.
She’d been pinching him hard on the arm every so often in the days since reading about Dr Burrows’ Stimulation Therapy. She hated doing it and felt terribly guilty afterwards, but on Sunday night she’d got a reaction. It was only a slight change of expression, but it showed a response to pain nonetheless. She was ecstatic and a little reluctant to leave when the nurse told her visiting hours were over.
The next morning Claire went to the office with a slightly lighter step. At her desk, she checked her watch. Derek would be in any second. She looked forward to their ritual Monday morning chats, and especially enjoyed the news from inside the racing fraternity.
She smiled as Derek assumed his customary perch on the edge of her desk.
‘How was Murray Bridge?’ she asked.
‘A couple of winners, couple of losers, you know how it is.’
‘Yeah.’
There was an awkward moment when no one spoke. Claire added a note to the bottom of her list.
‘Any change with Jack?’
‘Actually, there was a little,’ she said, beaming up at him.
‘I take it by your good mood it was a change for the good.’
Claire gave Derek a brief rundown of Dr Burrows’ theory before telling him how she’d pinched her father and got a small reaction.
‘That’s great. Want to reconsider taking some leave to spend more time with Jack?’
‘No thanks, I’m fine – told you that last week.’
‘But if what this Dr Burrows says…’
She gave a tight laugh and waggled a finger at him. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Claire thought he looked embarrassed, caught out, but what she heard next nearly caused her to topple off her chair.
‘As you know, I’m off from this Wednesday to next Thursday. I’d like you to come with me – just for a few days,’ he blurted.
‘What?!’ she cried, blushing furiously. But Derek was holding up a silencing hand, an unreadable expression on his face.
‘Purely platonic, Claire – separate rooms and all that.’
She was slightly miffed at his apparent lack of interest. Not that she was interested in him. But a little flattery never went astray. Responding to her perplexed