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Under The Harvest Moon. Gary Blinco
Читать онлайн.Название Under The Harvest Moon
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781456600310
Автор произведения Gary Blinco
Издательство Ingram
‘I hit him because he was givin’ me the shits, like you do sometimes,’ he yelled.
‘Whatever do you mean?’ she cried, her eyes wide in shock, wondering how this man she loved, and whom she thought loved her, could speak to her in such a way.
‘Because you expect too much of a man, that’s why,’ he said loudly, but there was a catch in his throat, like a chastened child. ‘The boss wanted too much from me, it smothered me. I had to get away from it so I punched him, flattened him right out. Then he sacked me.’
‘You got the sack?’ she said, incredulous. ‘Yeah!’ he spat.
‘An’ I don’t care. They wanted too bloody much from me, just like you do.’
‘But I don’t, Derwent,’ she protested. ‘I don’t make any demands of you, do I? And if you hated the job so much, why didn’t you just say something?’
‘You don’t make demands in so many words,’ he said, flopping on the bed and cradling his head in his hands, ‘It’s just that I know what you expect; and there aren’t too many friggin’ jobs about here, or so you would have told me. Why whinge about the one I had.’ He looked at her with one eye closed so he could focus through the effects of the drink.
‘You want me to be your mother and father; to bring home the bacon like good old dad did, and I can’t … I feel smothered by it all.’ She moved to sit beside him on the bed, suddenly sobbing as he pushed her away roughly.
‘Give me some room, for fuck’s sake,’ he said hotly, ‘Just leave me alone.’ She returned to his side, hoping to console him. He pushed her again, harder this time and she fell to the floor, giving a frightened little cry as she came to rest sharply against the bedroom wall. Derwent rolled over on the bed, covering his head with the pillow and moaning softly. He was unconscious in seconds.
She sat and stared at him for a long time. He looked so young and vulnerable as he slept heavily, the anger gone from his face as he snored softly. She wondered if she had been unconsciously demanding, if she really did have an unspoken expectation that he would replace the parents she had lost. Her mind raced as she tried to remember what she might have said, or what she may have done that caused him to be so threatened, so unhappy in his new life.
She wondered why it had taken a belly full of grog to give him the courage to cry out as he had done. She sat on a chair in the darkened room and thought about both the past and the future for a long time. Perhaps the time had come to move away from this little cottage with its friendly ghosts. Perhaps the only way this marriage could succeed would be if they left this town and struck out on their own somewhere, away from the ghosts of her parents and the clutches of his overbearing father. What Derwent had said in his drunkenness was true enough. She had assumed that she could continue her life as it had been, with a new family the only difference. He had not been consulted in her plans; she just assumed he would fall into line. She smiled at last, the bones of a plan firm in her mind. She undressed and climbed into the bed beside him.
* * *
The next day Derwent was contrite and repentant, apologising for his drunken behaviour, or the parts of it he remembered. ‘I’m glad you got it off your chest before it festered any more,’ she said airily as they sat over breakfast. ‘I think we need to get out of this place and now seems like a good time to do it. You have lost that rather awful job, and I can leave the bank any time I like, and I think I like now.’
‘But what can we do? We need money to live on, you know,’ he said, suddenly more responsible without the abandonment that comes from drunkenness. ‘The few bob I get from the band won’t pay the rent and feed us, and I won’t even have that if we move away from here.’
She smiled at him over the rim of her teacup. ‘I have a bit of money now’, she said. ‘Mum and Dad left me a bit, and probate on the will came through two weeks ago. We can set ourselves up pretty well.’
He looked at her evenly. ‘I didn’t know you were left any money,’ he said slowly. She realised suddenly that she had not told him, had not even discussed her inheritance with him at all. Somehow it had not occurred to her that he should have been told, that sharing everything was an integral part of marriage.
‘Of course not,’ she laughed, deciding to try to keep the moment light. ‘I wanted to be sure you were not just marrying me for my money.’ She fell serious as he squirmed a little at her words. ‘I, no we, have about 900 pounds. We can buy a small truck, something big enough to cart the stuff we need to set up a little home wherever we go. I want to keep the things mum and dad left me, at least some of them. We will still have a bit of back-up money in case it takes a while to find work somewhere.’
He had raised his eyebrows at the amount and she could see dark clouds deep in his eyes, but he seemed excited by her suggestions. ‘I know where we can get a truck like that,’ he said eagerly. ‘I can trade the old bike in as well, then we can just take off.’ He smiled widely, like an excited child who had been let out of school early.
‘Good,’ she grinned. ‘Now let’s finish our breakfast and wash up the dishes. Then you will take me to the bedroom and perform your husbandly duties, the ones you denied me last night. Then we go shopping.’ He rose quickly from his chair and threw the dishes in the sink, and then he gathered her in his arms and carried her giggling form to the bedroom.
* * *
They left the town three days later, the two-ton dodge truck packed neatly with a careful selection of her inherited belongings, and her father’s camping gear in case they had a mind to live rough from time to time. They had sold everything else. They called at the small farm to say goodbye to his parents and shared a few strained minutes in the little farmhouse over a cup of tea. Later his parents had waved them off, a look of detached relief on their faces as they watched the small truck recede down the lane before a billowing cloud of dust.
Derwent seemed so happy as they drove away that day, and the happiness and good spirits continued for a long time. They travelled widely, chasing the seasonal work around the countryside, defying the tyranny of distance in the old truck and growing closer as the months wore on. They worked the sheep farms around shearing time, Derwent worked in the shearing sheds and she usually found work cooking or helping out somewhere on the stations. When the shearing cut out, they looked for the wheat farms and the harvests, or the fruit picking seasons along the granite belt of the state. Life was good, free and easy and their love for each other provided the bond that held it all together.
Then for some unexplained reason Derwent began to drift away from her again, as if the stability in their relationship was too rich for him, too far removed from his troubled upbringing, a happiness he didn’t deserve. He began to drink heavily, withdrawing from her and finding a new interest in the ready supply of women who also adopted the nomadic life they had. Many of the seasonal workers were from other countries, ‘New Australians’, as most people called them in hushed, condescending tones, as if their inability to speak English was a sign of some inherent stupidity.
The women among these newcomers often had more relaxed morals and attitudes, and Derwent was popular with many of them. His free spirit somehow appealed to people who had fled a war-scarred Europe or England. His shyness and gentleness about sex had disappeared as well, and his new confidence gave him a raw earthy charisma. Now he was often rough with her, and he appeared to feel the need to prove himself at every opportunity. Perhaps that was why he began to look at other women, to prove that he could be a man with them as well. It was as if he had consciously thrown off her hold on him and rebelled against her as he had done for most of his life with his father.
Derwent soon became well known and popular in every labour camp they found, and they began to follow the same crowd of workers to each new employment opportunity. His musical