Barbara Hannay - Australian Affairs - Wed

She turned and lifted the lid on the slow cooker, giving its contents a stir, wishing she was more on top of this situation.

‘That smells amazing,’ said Joe.

She felt a small flush of satisfaction. She’d actually set their dinner simmering earlier in the day, hoping it would fill the kitchen with enticing aromas, but she responded to Joe’s compliment with a casual shrug and tried not to look too pleased. ‘It’s just a Spanish chicken dish.’

‘Spanish?’ Joe raised a quizzical eyebrow.

No doubt he was remembering her previously limited range of menus. ‘I’ve broadened my recipe repertoire.’

Joe almost smiled, but then he seemed to change his mind. Sinking his hands into his jeans pockets, he looked around the kitchen, taking in the table set with red and white gingham mats and the sparkling white cupboards and timber bench tops. ‘You’ve also been decorating.’

Ellie nodded. ‘Before I became pregnant with Jacko I painted just about every wall and cupboard in the house.’

‘The nesting instinct?’

‘Something like that.’

Joe frowned at this, his eyes taking on an ambiguous gleam as he stared hard at the cupboards. His Adam’s apple jerked in his throat. ‘It looks great,’ he said gruffly.

But Ellie felt suddenly upset. It felt wrong to be showing off her homemaker skills when she had absolutely no plans to share this home with him.

‘Where’s Jacko?’ he asked, abruptly changing the subject

‘Watching TV. Nina’s recorded his favourite programmes, and he’s happy to watch them over and over. It helps him to wind down at the end of the day.’

This was met by a slow nod but, instead of wandering off to check out his son, Joe continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, his gaze thoughtful.

‘He doesn’t watch a lot of TV,’ Ellie felt compelled to explain. ‘I...I usually read him story books as well.’

‘I’m sure he loves that.’ Joe’s blue eyes blazed. ‘Chill, Ellie. I’m not here to judge you. I’m sure you’re a great mum. Fantastic.’

Her smile wobbled uncertainly. Why would this compliment make her want to cry?

They should try to relax. She should offer Joe a pre-dinner beer or a glass of wine.

But, before she could suggest this, he said, ‘So, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to sign those divorce papers?’

Ellie’s stomach dropped as if she’d fallen from the top of a mountain. ‘Well...um...yes,’ she said, but she had to grip the bench behind her before her knees gave way. ‘You could sign now...or after dinner.’

‘It’s probably best to get it over with and out of the way.’

‘I guess.’ Her reply was barely a whisper. It was ridiculous. She’d been waiting for this moment for so long. They’d arranged an out of court settlement and their future plans were clear—she would keep on with the lease at Karinya, and Joe had full access to Jacko, although she wasn’t sure how often he planned to see his son.

This settlement was what she wanted, of course, and yet she felt suddenly bereft, as if a great hole had opened up in her life, almost as if someone had died.

What on earth was the matter with her? Joe’s signature would provide her with her ticket of leave.

Freedom beckoned.

The feeling of loss was nothing more than a temporary lapse, an aberration brought on by the unscheduled spot of cattle work that she and Joe had shared this afternoon. Rounding up the herd by the river had felt too dangerously like the good old days when they’d still been in love.

‘Ellie?’ Joe was standing stiffly to attention now, his eyes alert but cool, watching her intently. ‘You’re OK about this, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, of course. I’m totally fine.’ She spoke quickly, not quite meeting his gaze, and then she drew a deep, fortifying breath, hoping it would stop the trembling in her knees. ‘The papers are in the study.’

‘Ellie.’

The unexpected gentleness in his voice brought her spinning around. ‘Yes?’

‘I wish...’

‘What?’ She almost snapped this question.

What do you wish? Tell me quickly, Joe.

Did he wish they didn’t have to do this? Was he asking for another chance to save their marriage?

‘I wish you didn’t look so pale and upset.’

Her attempt to laugh came out as a hiccup. Horrified, she seized on the handiest weapon—anger. It was the weapon she’d used so often with this man, firing holes into the bedrock of their marriage. ‘If I’m upset, Joe, it’s because this is a weird situation.’

‘But we agreed.’ He seemed angry, too, but his anger was annoyingly cold and controlled. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’

‘Sure, we agreed, and yes, it’s what I want. But it’s still weird. How many people agree to a divorce and then put it on hold for four years?’

‘You know why we did that—so you’d be looked after financially if I was killed.’

‘Yes, I know, and that was generous of you. Just the same, it hasn’t been a picnic here.’ Suddenly, Ellie could feel the long months of tension giving way inside her, rushing to the surface, hot and explosive. ‘While you were away being the hero in Afghanistan, you were distracted by everything over there. But I was here, supposed to be divorced, but surrounded by all of this.’

Flinging her arm dramatically, she gestured to the homestead and the paddocks beyond. ‘Every day, I was left with the remnants of our lives together. A constant reminder of everything that went wrong.’

‘So why did you stay?’ Joe asked coolly.

Ellie gasped, momentarily caught out. ‘I’m surprised you have to ask,’ she said quickly to cover her confusion.

He shrugged a cool, questioning eyebrow.

And Ellie looked away. She’d asked herself the same question often enough. She knew exactly why she’d stayed. Even now, she could hear her dad’s voice from all those years ago. If you start something, Ellie, you’ve got to see it through.

Her dad had told her this just before her thirteenth birthday. She’d been promised a horse for her birthday and he’d been building proper stables instead of the old two-sided tin shelter they’d had until then.

Ellie had helped him by holding hammers or the long pieces of timber and she’d handed up nails and screws. While they worked her dad had reminded her that owning a horse was a long-term project.

‘You can’t take up a responsibility like a horse and then lose interest,’ he’d said. ‘I’ve known people like that. They never stick at anything, always have to be trying something different, and they end up unhappy and wondering what went wrong.’

Tragically, her father had never finished those stables. He’d also he’d been mending a windmill and he’d fallen and died three days before Ellie’s birthday. In the bleak months that followed, Ellie’s mum had sold their farm and moved into town, and the horse that should have been Ellie’s had gone to another girl in her class at school.

In a matter of months, Ellie lost everything—her darling father, her beloved farm, her dreams of owning a horse. And the bittersweet irony of her father’s words had been seared into her brain.

If you start something, you’ve got to see it through.

Years later, with a failed marriage and failed attempts at parenthood weighing her down, she’d been determined that she wouldn’t let go of Karinya as well.

‘So why did you stay here?’ Joe repeated.

With her arms folded protectively over her chest, Ellie told him. ‘I love this place, Joe. I’m proud of it, and I’ve worked hard to improve it. It was hard enough giving up half a dream without giving up Karinya as well.’

Joe’s only reaction was to stand very still, watching her with a stern, unreadable gaze. If Ellie hadn’t been studying him with equal care, she might have missed the fleeting shadow that dimmed his bright blue eyes, or the telltale muscle twitching in his jaw.