Bush Bashin' Read online

  After I’d finished I decided to organise the sauce for tomorrow night’s dinner before I started the cleaning. For some reason sauce always tastes nicer the next day than it does the day it’s cooked. And luckily this was an easy cream sauce to make.

  Creamy garlic chicken had been a winner when I’d worked in the restaurant; I was hoping it would go over as well here.

  “Are you okay?” Lizzie leant against the doorframe and watched me as I began cleaning up. In the weeks since being here I’d given up on the hand washing of everything, and the dishwasher was one of my most beloved appliances in the kitchen.

  I shrugged as she walked over and made herself a cuppa, she was settling in for a chat. Normally I’d like nothing better than a good gossip session, but today I was really tired, and I knew she wasn’t going to let me get away until I told her why I was down. “I’m okay, only a little tired. I’m still getting used to such different hours than the restaurant back home.”

  My best friend chuckled softly. “You are home, silly.”

  Half a smile was all I could give in return.

  “Now tell me what’s really going on? I’ve noticed you’ve been a little quiet lately, and not talking to the hands. Is there something you want to tell me?” She fixed me with her “I want the truth now” stare.

  My hands clenched on top of the bench in front of me as I decided, fuck it! She needs to know what’s going on.

  “It’s not that I’m quiet around the workers here. The problem is, after Bo’s misguided outburst about me getting married, none of your male workers are comfortable around me anymore. I’m quiet because none of them want to talk to me.”

  Just with the telling of my hurt I felt a lot better like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and set part of my anxiety free. The look of horror on her face was quickly being replaced with one I’d come to associate with her being pissed off beyond belief.

  “Stone the crows! They’re fucking wankers… They’re all dumbarse wankers. Don’t let them get to you.” Lizzie tapped her nail on the bench as she thought it through. “We’re going to have to address this you know. I won’t have bullying on my property.”

  A sigh fell from my lips. “They aren’t bullying me, Lizzie.” I wanted to explain how much it hurt me now they didn’t talk to me anymore but couldn’t find the right words I didn’t want to come off sounding like I was whining. “They’d have to actually be talking to me to be able to bully me.”

  “Yes they are. Their silence toward you is a form of bullying. They all know my stance on workplace behaviour. Leave it with me, I’ll have a think about it and work out what to do.”

  “You don’t have to do anything.” I tried again but she cut me off.

  “Yes I do. If I don’t stop this now it’ll only go on until it blows up in all our faces. You’re a bloody fine chef and they should be lucky you gave up your city ways to come across the country and feed them. If they upset you enough and you leave I’ll kick all their arses. Really, it’s better if I give them all a good slap up the side of the head right now.”

  § § §

  Nothing changed the next day and I knew Lizzie was still pissed off because she hadn’t eaten one meal in the dining room. She came and sat with me in the kitchen. I wanted to tell her to forget about everything but the look on her face held determination and a determined Lizzie wasn’t going to deviate from whatever course of action she deemed necessary to handle the situation on hand. I was grateful she was such a damn good friend.

  The whole of the day after pretty much followed the same course, and all was quiet between me and the men I cooked for.

  While I was resigned to what was happening in my life, Lizzie was simmering almost at boiling point, and when she blew things were going to well and truly hit the fan. I really hoped my friend knew what she was doing and didn’t mess up her workplace environment because she was pissed off for me.

  Later in the night as I lay in bed, I was still shaking my head as I thought about how my angry my friend still was. I also knew Lizzie would remain this way until she’d made a decision on how she was going to handle the situation. The little bit of doubt over telling her about my problems niggled at me, but I wasn’t going to let the hands’ inconsiderate behaviour push me all the way back to Queensland.

  Was I feeling sorry for myself? Probably.

  My thoughts were interrupted as I heard a soft knock at my closed door and the faint sounds of a baby crying. When I got up I was surprised to find Ren standing there with Annie in his arms and an expression on his face which I interpreted as “for the love of God please help me.” Before he could even open his mouth I’d already reached for the child in his arms. Annie was cradled against my chest as I headed back toward the bed and laid her down.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong, and she wouldn’t stop crying. Jamie and Darla ducked into the pub with Bo and Sally.” Ren explained as he stood fidgeting behind us. I wanted to tell the man to sit down as he was making me nervous, but instead I concentrated on little Annie.

  “For starters, Grandpa, you have too many clothes on her.”

  As the layers were peeled away she calmed down slightly. “A good rule of thumb is, if you’re hot then so is she.” The words tumbled out of me as I allowed myself to have a quick perusal of the man standing there in a singlet and a loose pair of jeans.

  When Annie was sufficiently undressed I stood and cuddled her close. “Now I think she may need a bottle. Do you have one already prepared or do I need to go make one?”

  “I have one Darla left for me.” Ren turned and left only to return a few minutes later with a bottle and a drip cloth for throw up. The funny thing was, as Ren laid the cloth over my shoulder his fingers traced against my throat and again I broke out with goose bumps flowing across my skin in a heated roll like a wave crashing upon a shore. To cover myself I sat on the bed scooting enough until my back rested against the headboard and began to feed the baby. My focus never left the other man as he seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking to the other side of the bed and almost mimicked the way I was sitting. He didn’t speak for the longest time. I didn’t mind because for some strange reason the silence between us felt comfortable. Like we had known each other since forever and didn’t find it necessary to use words.

  The silence was broken when the bottle was finished, Annie was burped and Ren reclaimed his granddaughter, readying to leave the room. She woke with a start and began to cry again. He looked at me helplessly and I could do nothing except pat the spot on the bed he’d moments before vacated, gesturing for him to come back to the bed.

  Was I feeling guilty for having the man back on my bed? Did I look stupid? I wasn’t complaining at all. I thought he looked damn fine in my bed. A little overdressed maybe, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I was going to quite happily take what small amount of time I’d been given. Seriously, I hoped little Annie cried all night long so Ren’d stay right where he was. Ren on the other hand seemed restless like he didn’t want to be here. I really couldn’t blame him. Part of me hoped he was uncomfortable being around me, remorseful even, especially after the way he had left me standing next to the helicopter. Hell, he was only here now because Annie needed me. And yet I wanted him to stay.

  The look of worry on his face prompted me to say something.

  “You’re safe here. I promise not to molest you while you’re here. Besides, since David I’ve behaved myself . Well almost. We don’t want to shock little Annie now would we?”

  “I’m not worried about that sort of thing. Who’s David?”

  The worry around his eyes lessened fractionally. “I don’t want to monopolise your time, but Darla told me if Annie started to cry I should bring her to you. She seems to think the sun rises and sets with you.”

  I was confused and didn’t know whether he was talking about Annie or Darla. Either one liking me was a good thing as far as I am concerned. I studied him before saying. “David’s my ex-boyfriend. We were
together almost twelve years before we separated. He found someone else to give his love to.” I really wasn’t bitter and regretted how I sounded as if I were. “I really don’t mind you being here, but are you gonna be able to handle it when—” I bit the rest of my sentence off. No use asking for trouble, and he was already looking a bit weirded out about my talk of my ex. I didn’t want to bring up anything which was going to remind him of the day of the helicopter flight.

  “When what?” Ren spoke, paling slightly.

  I stared at the now-sleeping baby lying on the bed between us.

  I didn’t want to have to answer him in case he hadn’t seen what the other hands were doing. No use pointing out the problem.

  Then again if he hadn’t noticed he was obviously blind. Seeing as he was just as much to blame as the rest of them.

  “When what, Jeremiah?” Ren asked steadily.

  Frustrated at myself for putting a downer on the evening I glared at him. If I channelled my inner anger, if I focused my thoughts and defences he wouldn’t be able to hurt me. “Are you going to be able to handle it when the other guys think there’s something going on between us? I bet someone saw you come in here and their tongues will be wagging, especially after we took the horrendous — in my eyes — flight together.” Sadness rushed over me and what I’d blurted out. I really didn’t want to know his answer.

  “Jacko’s out in the lounge, but I think he’s grateful I left the room when Annie started bawling. I don’t care what the others think about our…friendship.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We’ll see, but I don’t want you blaming me when they start giving you the cold shoulder as well.”

  Ren frowned. “Is that happening to you?”

  I snorted — I couldn’t help myself. “You’ve all been doing it. If you hadn’t noticed only the women, Bo, and Brian actually still talk to me. To the rest of you I’m a non-entity.”

  “I’m not ignoring you, Jeremiah.” Ren sighed. “I really have a lot of things on my mind at the moment. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

  I wanted to believe him, I really did. But actions speak louder than word. Every night Ren was almost the first person finished eating and he was gone before I could blink. If this wasn’t a sure sign of avoidance then what was?

  Hurt washed over me. “I think it would be better if you left. Annie’s dead to the world now, so maybe you should take her and head back to your own room. Better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

  “Jeremiah, I—I…” his words trailed of as he hauled himself out of the bed and carefully lifted his grandchild into his arms.

  At the door he stopped and said without looking back into the room. “I promise, I haven’t been ignoring you on purpose. I’ve had a few things I needed work out.” He left before I could even formulate a reply.

  And for the first time in a long time I did something I hated doing.

  I cried.

  Chapter Five

  Send it down, Huey

  Translation: Let it rain

  The best I can tell you is the next day, even though the men still didn’t converse with me as much as I would have liked, I wasn’t as angry and upset as I had been since the whole shemozzle first started. My emotions were still all over the place and my mother would have told me I needed to have a good cry like I had last night. I would like to point out right now I was definitely too old to cry and it won’t be happening again anytime soon. I decided after my chat with Ren the previous night I was going to ignore the silly bastards right back. I was definitely over letting them grind me down emotionally. Nana Daisy would have said “Send it down, Huey,” meaning, if it’s gonna rain then it ‘mose well pour and flush all the bad crap out of the pipes. She always said emotions were like a storm brewing on the horizon. There were only two possible outcomes. One: it could fizzle out and become nothing but an annoyance, or two: it could land on your head and shake you to your very core. Going by Nana’s way of thinking if I ignored the situation it would fizzle out and become nothing.

  That was precisely what I intended to do. That was until Lizzie entered the dining hall. The look on her face spelled trouble and I dreaded what was about to come out of her mouth. Brian on the other hand refused to look at his wife and when his gaze met mine he winced in sympathy.

  Oh crap!

  I knew right then the storm was about to land on our heads.

  The anger poured off my friend in waves. “You’re fired. You’re all bloody fired. Let me rephrase what I’ve said — all the men are fired.” She glared at each and every man sitting in the room. They all stared back at her somewhat stunned and even a bit confused.

  “How dare you treat one of our own less than what he is. How dare you treat my friend like he’s a bad taste left in your mouth. He,” she pointed directly at me and I cringed, “came all this way to cook for you fuckers and look how you’re all treating him. We’ve already spoken about this. You know my thoughts. If you’ve got a problem with Frog’s sexuality then pack your shit and get the hell off of my property, because he is staying.” Her statement had more than a few of the hands dropping their gazes in what I assumed was shame. I could only hope it’s what I was seeing.

  “I’ve never treated Frog badly,” Bo blurted out, a look of indignation on his face.

  Lizzie’s glare softened fractionally. “Then you can stay, Bo. But it was your stupid statement which set the other idiots off.”

  She once again let her gaze roam around the room. “As for the rest of you, make up you minds on what you want, because I’m serious. In my eyes Frog’s the only one still guaranteed a job. He’s staying, even if I have to duct tape him to the chair to keep him here.”

  After my initial shock wore off I tried to lighten the mood in the room. “I promise I’ll stay. No need to tape me to anything. Do you know how hard it is to get duct tape off?”

  A ripple of quiet laughter flowed through the room. The hands all began making eye contact with me and I hoped it was a sign things here going to get better. The only one who stared at me openly was Ren. And I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with him, because I knew he was remembering what I had said last night before I asked him to leave my room. I hoped our friendship, or what there was left of it, didn’t move onto even rockier grounds.

  The noise in the hall rose to normal as we all began eating. I for one was glad because it meant I was no longer the centre of attention. I much preferred it when things ran smoothly.

  “What’s on the menu for tonight, Frog?” Jacko called from across the room.

  I grinned. “I’m cooking creamy garlic chicken on a bed of basmati rice with greens and cheesy bread.” I knew he was trying to get things back to normal, or at least attempt to show he was.

  “Does that sound okay?”

  He shook his head in mock dismay. “All depends on what you are making for dessert. After the garlic we sure won’t be kissing.”

  I don’t think he even realized his faux pas until I spoke and made him blush to the tips of his roots. “Jacko, we won’t be kissing regardless of if there’s garlic or not. You really aren’t my type.”

  Bo laughed hard enough that he sprayed his drink all over the table. I was worried he was going to pop something with the way he was turning red. Sally thumped him on the back and called him a “fidiot,” which had the rest of them laughing. To tell the truth I was glad when the breakfast was over and the hands all went to work. I needed to clean up and relax and get myself back on track so to speak.

  When I’d finished the dishes and poured myself a much needed cup of coffee someone knocked on the door frame. A guy not much older than me stood there smiling.

  “Hi, my names Lester Downs. I heard from one of my hands last night we have a bona fide chef in the area.” He walked in and took a seat on the other side of the counter. He looked at home here in what I’d come to think of as my kitchen.

  “Would you like a coffee or a tea?” I asked while still wondering
what he was doing here.

  “Tea would be great, thanks.”

  I set about making his beverage and asked. “Why would you be in need of a bona fide chef? And who would have pointed you in my direction?” I was curious as to why he had sought me out. “By the way my name’s Jeremiah.” I added as I shook his hand.

  “One of our hands, Ryan, was talking to Bo at the local pub in Kununurra, and he may have mentioned what you were before you moved to Billingsford. Actually I think Ryan’s words were more of how Bo was spruiking about all the food you had been cooking over here. I rang Lizzie last night to find out if it was true and when she said yes I jumped in the car and came straight here this morning.” His hands seemed restless as he spoke. “As to why I’m here, I’m hoping you would do me a little favour. Actually, it’s kind of a huge favour. I’ve asked Lizzie and she said it was okay if you agreed you wanted to help.”

  The guy was making me nervous and I wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. “What exactly is this favour you’re after?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Alec and I were wondering if you could come to Hazeldowns for a couple of days and help oversee the barbeque for Saturday. Most of the stuff is organised already, but due to unforeseen circumstances our cook, Aaron, is no longer available to do his job. Since he left things have all been going wrong.”

  “May I ask why?” Lizzie had told me they were a gay friendly station, but I wasn’t going to go somewhere when there was a good possibility I might get hurt.

  Lester must have sensed my thoughts as he held up his hands, “Nothing sinister I assure you. Two days ago he got a phone call from his sister. Apparently his mum’s in hospital and they needed him to fly back to Perth and help out. The problem is he’ll be gone for the next two weeks or so. Aaron always oversaw the barbeque. He didn’t trust the catering company. Between you and me, I think he may have been onto something. Since they found out yesterday Aaron isn’t here they’ve not been as helpful as I’d like them to be. They don’t want to do business with me or Alec.” The tinges of red colour his cheeks told me he was either embarrassed or angry.