Australian Affairs: Wed

‘Joe!’ she yelled, sticking her head out into the rain. ‘That’s enough! Get out!’

‘Joe, that’s ‘nuff!’ parroted Jacko.

A tree branch hurtled past Joe, almost sweeping him with it.

Turn back. Ellie was urging him, under her breath now, so she didn’t alarm Jacko.

To her relief, Joe must have realised his venture was useless. At last he turned and began to make his way back to the bank.

But Ellie’s relief was short-lived, of course. Sure, she was grateful that Joe hadn’t drowned himself, but she had no idea how they could live together amicably till the river levels dropped. It would take days, possibly weeks, and the strain would be intolerable.

She was so busy worrying about the challenge of sharing Christmas with her ex that she didn’t actually see what happened next.

It seemed that Joe was standing perfectly upright one moment, and then he suddenly toppled sideways and his dark head disappeared beneath the ugly brown water.

* * *

Joe had no warning.

He had a firm footing on the causeway, but with the next step there was no concrete beneath him and he was struggling to regain his balance. Before he could adjust his weight, he slid off the edge.

He felt a sudden jarring scrape against his leg as he was pulled down into the bowels of the dark, angry river.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.

Scorching pain shot up his calf, and now he discovered that he also couldn’t move. His foot was jammed between the broken section of the concrete causeway and a rock.

Hell. This was it. He’d survived four years of war and now he was going to die here. In front of Ellie and Jacko.

He was a brainless idiot. What had Ellie called him? A moron. She was dead right. No question.

And now... As his lungs strained for air, frantic memories flashed. The first time he’d seen Ellie in the outback café. The first time they’d kissed.

Last night and the chubby, sweet weight of Jacko in his arms.

His signature, acknowledging their divorce.

Don’t freaking panic, man.

This was a major stuff-up, but he’d been trained to think.

He had to forget about the pain in his leg and his dire need for air and he had to work out a plan. Fast.

Clearly, his first priority was to get his head above water, but he was anchored by his trapped leg and the massive force of the rushing river. There was only one possible course of action. He had to brace against the current and use every ounce of his upper body strength, especially his stomach muscles, to pull himself upright.

Almost certainly, he couldn’t have done it without his years in the Army and its daily routine of rugged physical training.

As he fought his way upright, his arm bumped a steel rod sticking out of the concrete. As soon as he grabbed it, he had the leverage to finally lift his head above the surface.

He dragged a great, gasping gulp of air. And immediately he heard Ellie’s cry.

‘Joe! Oh, God, Joe!’

She was in the river, making her way towards him through the seething, perilous water. Her dark hair was plastered to her head, framing her very white, frightened face, and she looked too slender and too fragile and too totally vulnerable.

At any moment, she would be whipped away downstream and Joe knew he wouldn’t have a chance in hell of saving her. In the same moment, he thought of trusting little Jacko strapped in his car seat, needing Ellie.

‘Get back,’ he roared to her. ‘Stay on the bank. I’m OK.’

‘You’re not. Let me help you.’

‘No,’ he bellowed angrily. ‘Get back!’

He, at least, had something to hang on to, which was more than Ellie had. ‘There’s no point in both of us getting into trouble. If you’re washed away, I won’t be able to help you. For God’s sake, Ellie, stay there. Think of Jacko. What happens to him, if neither of us gets out?’

This seemed to get through to her at last. She stood there with the river seething about her ankles, clearly tormented by difficult choices, but at least she’d stopped stubbornly coming towards him.

Joe knew he had to get moving. His foot was still jammed and his only hope was to ignore the pain and to haul his foot out of the trapped boot.

Clenching his teeth, he kept a death grip on the steel rod as he concentrated every sinew in his body into getting his foot free. The force of the river threatened to push him off balance. Slicing pain sheared up his leg as if it was once again sliced by something rough and hard, but somehow, miraculously, his foot was finally out.

Now he just had to stay upright as he fought his way back. He was limping and he stumbled twice, his bare foot slipping on rocks, but he didn’t fall and, as he reached the shallows, Ellie was there beside him.

‘Don’t argue, Joe. Just give me your arm.’

He was happy to let her help him to the bank.

At last...

‘Thanks,’ he said. And then, with difficulty, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, well, thank God it’s over.’ Ellie seemed to be suddenly self-conscious. She quickly let go of him and stepped away. Her hair was sleek and straight from the rain and her clothes were plastered to her slender body. And, now that they were safe, Joe probably looked at her for longer than he should have as they stood on the muddy bank, catching their breath.

‘You’re bleeding!’ Ellie cried suddenly, her eyes widening with horror as she pointed to his injured leg.

Joe looked down. Blood was running from beneath his ripped jeans and spreading in bright red rivulets over his bare foot.

‘I think it’s just a cut,’ he said.

‘But we need to attend to it. I hope it won’t need stitches.’

‘I’m sure it’s not urgent. Go to Jacko.’

As if backing up Joe’s suggestion, a tiny voice in the distance screamed, ‘Mama!’ The poor little kid was wailing.

‘He needs you,’ Joe said, shuddering at the imagined scenario of poor Jacko abandoned in the car while both his parents were swept away.

At least Ellie was already on her way to him. ‘You’d better come too,’ she called over her shoulder.

* * *

There was only one option. While Ellie comforted Jacko, Joe found a towel to wrap around his bleeding leg and, after that, they drove their respective vehicles back to the homestead.

‘Nuisance, I know,’ Joe said as he set his luggage on the veranda again. ‘This totally stuffs up your plans.’

Ellie shrugged. She’d morphed from the bravely stubborn warrior woman who’d rescued him from the river back to a tight-faced, wary hostess.

‘We should take a closer look at your leg,’ was all she said.

‘I don’t want to bleed all over the house.’ Joe’s leg was stinging like crazy and he’d already left bloody footprints on the veranda.

‘Let me take a look at it.’ Ellie dropped to her knees beside him, frowning as she carefully parted the torn denim to examine his leg more closely.

This was the first time Ellie had touched him in years, and now she was kneeling at his feet and looking so worried. He felt momentarily deprived of air, as if he was back in the river.

* * *

Ellie felt incredibly flustered about patching up Joe’s leg.

She’d been hoping for distance from her ex, and here she was instead, tending to his wounds. And the task felt impossibly, disturbingly intimate. She knew she had to get a grip. It was only a matter of swabbing Joe’s leg, for heaven’s sake. What was wrong with her?

Of course, she was still shaken from the shock of seeing him almost drown in front of her. She kept reliving that horrifying moment when his dark head had disappeared beneath the swirling flood water.

She’d believed it was the end—Joe was gone for ever—and she’d been swamped by an agonising sense of loss. A slug of the darkest possible despair.

Even now, after they were both safely home and showered and changed, she felt shaky as she gathered bottles of antiseptic, tubes of cream and cotton wool swabs and bandages and anything else she thought she might need.

Now she could see the contrariness of their situation. She and Joe had made every attempt to split, finally and for ever, and yet fate had a strange sense of humour and had deemed it necessary to push them together again.

Here was Joe in her kitchen, dressed in shorts, with his long brown leg propped on a chair.

It wasn’t fair, Ellie decided, that despite an angry red gash, a single limb could look so spectacularly masculine, so strongly muscled and large.

‘Blood,’ little Jacko announced solemnly, stepping closer to inspect the bright wound on Joe’s calf.

‘Jacko’s always seriously impressed by blood,’ she explained.

Jacko looked up at Joe with round worried eyes, blue gaze meeting blue. ‘Band-Aid,’ he pronounced solemnly.

‘Thanks, mate.’ Joe smiled at the boy. ‘Your mum’s looking after me, so I know I’m in good hands.’

To Ellie’s dismay, she felt a bright blush heat her face. ‘I’m afraid Joe will need more than a Band-Aid,’ she said tightly as she drew a chair close. ‘Jacko, why don’t you go and find Teddy? I’ll give him a Band-Aid, too.’ With luck, she would get most of this task done while the boy was away, looking for his favourite stuffed toy.

But, to her annoyance, she couldn’t quite meet Joe’s eyes as she bent forward to examine his torn flesh. ‘It looks like a very bad graze—and it’s right down your shin.’ She couldn’t help wincing in sympathy. ‘It must have hurt.’

‘It’s not too bad. I don’t think it’s too deep, do you?’

‘Perhaps not, but it’s had all that filthy river mud in it. I’d hate you to get infected.’ Gently, conscientiously, Ellie washed the wound with warm water and antiseptic, then dabbed at the ragged edges with a cotton wool swab and extra antiseptic. ‘I hope this doesn’t sting too much.’

‘Just slosh it on. I’ll be fine.’

Of course. He was a tough guy.

Ellie wished she was tougher. She most definitely wished that being around her ex-husband didn’t make her feel so breathless and trembling. And overheated.

She forced herself to be businesslike. ‘Are you up-to-date with your tetanus shots?’

‘No worries there. The Army made sure of it.’

‘Of course. OK. I think I should put sterile dressings on these deeper patches.’

‘I’m damn lucky you have such a well stocked first aid kit.’

‘The Flying Doctors provided it. There are antibiotics, too, if you need them.’

‘You’re an angel, Ellie.’

Joe said this with such apparent sincerity she was terrified to look him in the eye, too worried he’d read her emotions, that he’d guess how upset she’d been by his accident, that he’d sense how his proximity set her pulses hammering.

Carefully, she tore the protective packaging from a dressing patch and placed it on his leg, gently pressing the adhesive edges to seal it to his skin. Then, without looking up, she dressed another section, working as swiftly and efficiently, and as gently, as she could.

‘The Florence Nightingale touch suits you.’

Ellie’s head snapped up and suddenly she was looking straight into Joe’s eyes. His bright blue gorgeous eyes that had robbed her of common sense and stolen her heart at their very first meeting.

Joe responded with a slow shimmering smile, as if he liked looking at her, too. Her face flamed brightly. Dismayed, she clambered to her feet.

‘Teddy!’ hollered Jacko, suddenly running into the room with his fluffy golden bear.

Excessively grateful for the distraction, Ellie found a fluorescent green child-pleasing Band-Aid and ceremoniously applied it to the bear’s furry leg. Jacko was suitably delighted and he showed the bear to Joe, who inspected the toy’s injury with commendable attention for a man not used to children.

‘OK,’ Ellie told Joe brusquely as Jacko trotted off again, happily satisfied. ‘You can throw your things into Nina’s room. You should be comfortable enough sleeping in there.’

This time she was ready when a blush threatened at the mere mention of his sleeping arrangements. A deep breath and the sheer force of willpower kept it at bay, but she didn’t miss the flash of tension in Joe’s eyes.

Almost immediately, however, Joe recovered, and he gave her an easy shrug. ‘I’m fine with sleeping in the swag.’

‘Don’t be silly. You can’t sleep on the study floor with an injured leg.’

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘OK. I’m not fussy. I’ll sleep wherever’s most convenient for you.’

Their gazes locked and Ellie’s pulses drummed. She knew Joe must have been thinking, as she was, of the big double bed where she slept. Alone. The bed they’d once shared so passionately.

Hastily she blocked out the dangerously stirring memories of their intimacy, but, as she put the first aid kit away, she wondered again how she was going to survive several days of Joe’s presence in her house. She felt quite sure she’d already stumbled at the first hurdle.

CHAPTER FIVE

JOE’S BROTHER, HEATH, answered when Joe rang home with the news that he couldn’t make it for Christmas,

‘Jeez, mate, that’s bad luck.’

‘I know. I’m sorry, but with all this rain it’s impossible to get through.’

‘Mum will be upset.’

‘Yeah.’ Joe grimaced. It was way too long since he’d been home. ‘So, how are Mum and Dad?’

‘Both fighting fit.’ Heath laughed. ‘Excuse the pun. Should remember I’m talking to a soldier.’

‘Former soldier.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, they were really excited about seeing you.’

Joe suppressed a sigh. ‘I suppose Dad’s busy?’

‘He and Dean are out in the paddock helping a heifer that’s having twins. But Mum’s around.’

‘I’d like to speak to her.’

‘Sure. She’s just in the kitchen, up to her elbows in her usual Christmas frenzy. Making shortbread today, I think. I’ll get her in a sec—but first, tell me, mate—if you’re stuck at Karinya, does that mean you’ll have to spend Christmas with Ellie?’

‘Looks that way.’ Joe tried hard to keep his voice neutral.

‘But you’re still going ahead with the divorce, aren’t you?’

‘Sure. Everything’s signed, but I can’t deliver the final paperwork till the rivers go down. As far as we’re both concerned, though, it’s a done deal. All over, red rover.’

‘Hell. And now you’re stuck there together. That’s tough.’

‘Well, at least I get to spend more time with Jacko.’

‘That’s true, I guess,’ Heath said slowly, making no attempt to hide his doubts. ‘Just the same, you have my sympathy, Joe.’

‘Thanks, but I don’t really need it. Ellie and I are OK. We’re being perfectly civil.’

‘Civil? Sounds like a load of laughs.’

‘You were going to get Mum?’ Joe reminded his brother.

‘Yeah, sure. Well, Happy Christmas.’

‘Thanks. Same to you, and give my love to Laura and the girls.’

‘Will do. And good luck with you know who!’

Joe didn’t have long to ponder his brother’s final remark. In no time he heard his mother’s voice.

‘Darling, how lovely to hear from you. But Heath’s just told me the terrible news. I can’t believe you’re stranded! What a dreadful shame, Joe. Are you sure there’s no way you can get across that darned river?’

‘I nearly drowned myself trying.’ Joe wouldn’t normally have shared this detail with his mother, but today it was important she understood there was no point in holding out hope.

‘Oh, good heavens,’ she said. ‘Well, I guess there’s no hope of seeing you for Christmas.’

‘Impossible, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s such a pity.’

In the awkward silence, Joe tried to think of something reassuring to tell her. He’d felt OK before talking to his family but, now that he’d heard their voices, he felt a tug of unanticipated emotion. And nostalgia. He was remembering the happy Christmases of his past.

‘So, how are you?’ his mother asked after she’d digested his news.

‘I’m fine, thanks. Copped a bit of a scrape on the leg, trying to cross the river, but nothing to worry about.’

‘And how’s Jacko?’ His mother’s voice softened, taking on a wistful quality.

His parents had never met Jacko, their grandson, and now the sadness in her voice was a stinging jolt, like a fish hook in Joe’s heart. He’d told himself that his parents probably didn’t mind—after all, they had six other grandkids—but there was no denying the regret in his mother’s voice.

‘Jacko’s a great little bloke,’ he told her. ‘I’ll email photos.’

‘That would be lovely. I’m sure he’s a dear little boy, just like you were.’

It was hard to know how to respond to this, especially as his throat had tightened painfully. ‘He’s a cute kid, all right. Gets up to mischief.’

‘Oh, the little sweetheart. I can just imagine. Joe, we’ll still get to meet Jacko, won’t we? Even though you’re divorced?’

‘Yes. I’ll make sure of it.’ Somehow. Some time. Joe added silently. He wasn’t sure when. But it hit him now that it was important for Jacko to meet his side of the family.

He imagined the boy meeting the raft of Madden uncles and cousins—meeting Joe’s parents. It hadn’t occurred to him till now, but he wanted the boy to know the whole picture. It was important in shaping his sense of identity.

Hell. He’d been so busy carving out a new life for himself that he hadn’t given his responsibilities as a father nearly enough thought.

Now, he thought about Christmas at Ridgelands. He could picture it clearly, with the long table on the homestead veranda groaning beneath the weight of food. There’d be balloons and bright Christmas decorations hanging from posts and railings. All his family around the table. His parents, his brothers and their wives and their kids...

They would have a cold seafood salad as a starter, followed by roast turkey and roast beef, all the vegetables and trimmings. Then his mother’s Christmas pudding, filled with the silver sixpences she’d saved from decades ago. Any lucky grandchild who scored a sixpence in their pudding could exchange it for a dollar.

There would be bonbons and silly hats and streamers. Corny jokes, family news and tall stories.

When Joe had first arrived back from Afghanistan, he’d been too distanced from his old life to feel homesick. Now, he was seized by an unexpected longing.

‘Oh, well,’ his mother was saying, ‘for the time being, you’ll have to give Jacko an extra hug from me.’

‘Will do.’ Joe swallowed. ‘And I’ll make sure I come to see you before I leave for the new job.’

‘Oh, yes, Joe. Please do come. It’s been so long. Too long.’

‘I know. I’ll be there. I promise. Give my love to Dad, and everyone.’

‘Yes, darling. We’ll speak again. Can we call you on this number?’

‘Sure.’

‘And you give my love to—’ His mother paused and ever so slightly sighed. ‘Perhaps I should say—give my regards to Ellie.’

‘You can send Ellie your love.’ Joe’s throat was extra-sore now, as if he’d swallowed gravel. ‘She’s always liked you, Mum. I’m her problem.’

‘Oh, darling,’ An unhappy silence lapsed. ‘I just hope you and Ellie manage to have a stress-free Christmas together.’

‘We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’re on our best behaviour.’

Joe felt a little shaken as he hung up. While he’d been a soldier on active duty, his focus had been on a foreign enemy. With the added problem of an impending divorce hanging over him, he’d found it all too easy to detach himself from home.

Now, for the first time, he began to suspect that avoiding his family had been a mistake. And yet, here he was, about to run away again.

He’d barely put down the receiver when the phone rang almost immediately. He supposed it was his mother ringing back with one last ‘thought’.

He answered quickly. ‘Hello?’

‘Is that Joe?’ It was a completely different woman’s voice.

‘Yes, Joe speaking.’

‘Oh.’ The caller managed to sound disappointed and put out, as if she was wrinkling her nose at a very unpleasant smell. ‘I was hoping to speak to Ellie.’

‘Is that you, Angela?’ Joe recognised the icy tones of his ex mother-in-law.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Ellie’s out in the shed, hunting for Christmas decorations. I’ll get her to call you as soon as she gets in.’

‘So where’s Jacko?’ Angela Fowler’s voice indicated all too clearly that she didn’t trust Joe to be alone with her grandson.

‘He’s taking a nap.’

‘I see,’ Angela said doubtfully and then she let out a heavy sigh. ‘I rang, actually, because I heard about all the rain up there in Queensland on the news. There was talk of rivers flooding.’

‘Yes, that’s right, I’m afraid. Our local creeks and rivers are up and Karinya’s already cut off.’

‘Oh, Joe! And you’re still there? Oh, how dreadful for poor Ellie.’ Ellie’s mother had always managed to imply that any unfortunate event in their marriage was entirely Joe’s fault. ‘Don’t tell me this means... It doesn’t mean you’ll be up there with Ellie and Jacko for Christmas, does it?’

‘I’m afraid we don’t have a choice, Angela.’

There was a horrified gasp on the end of the line and then a longish bristling pause.

‘I’ll tell Ellie you called,’ Joe said with excessive politeness.

‘I suppose, if she’s busy, that will have to do.’ Reluctantly, Angela added, ‘Thanks, I guess.’ And then... ‘Joe?’

‘Yes?’

‘I hope you’ll be sensitive.’

Joe scowled and refused to respond.

‘You’ve made life hard enough for my daughter.’

His grip on the phone receiver tightened and he was tempted to hurl the bloody phone through the kitchen window. Somehow he reined in his temper.

‘You can rest easy, Ange. Ellie has served me with the divorce papers and I’ve signed on the dotted line. I’ll be out of your daughter’s hair just as soon as these rivers go down. In the meantime, I’ll be on my best behaviour. And I hope you and Harold have a very happy Christmas.’

He was about to hang up when he heard Ellie’s footsteps in the hall.

‘Hang on. You’re in luck. Here’s Ellie now.’

Setting down the phone with immense relief, he went down the hallway. Ellie was on the veranda. She’d taken off her rain jacket and was hanging it on the wall hook, and beside her were two large rain-streaked cardboard cartons.

‘Your mother’s on the phone,’ Joe told her.

A frown drew her finely arched eyebrows together. ‘OK, thanks.’ She was still frowning as she set off down the hall. ‘I think Jacko’s awake,’ she called back to Joe. ‘Can you check?’

‘Can do.’

Even before Joe reached the boy’s room, he heard soft, happy little chuckles. The lively baby talk was such a bright, cheerful contrast to his recent phone conversation.

In fact, Joe couldn’t remember ever hearing a baby’s laughter before. It was truly an incredible sound.

He slowed his pace as he approached the room and opened the door slowly, carefully, and he found Jacko, with tousled golden hair and sleep-flushed cheeks, standing in his cot. The little boy was walking his teddy bear, complete with its fluoro Band-Aid, along the railing. He was talking to the bear in indecipherable gibberish. Giggling.

So cute.

So damn cute.

Joe felt a slam, like a fist to his innards. The last time he’d seen his son, he’d been a helpless baby, and now he was a proper little person—walking and talking and learning to play, beginning to imagine.

He’d missed so many milestones.

What will he be like next time I see him?

It was difficult enough that Joe had to spend this extra time with Ellie, while trying to ignore the old tug of an attraction that had never really died. But now, here was his son jerking his heart-strings as well.

As soon as Jacko saw Joe, he dropped the teddy bear and held up round little arms. ‘Up!’ he demanded.

Joe crossed to the cot and his son looked up at him with a huge, happy grin. It might even have been an admiring grin. A loving grin?

Whatever it was, it hefted a raw punch.

‘Up, Joe!’