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‘Are you okay? How’s things?’
‘I’ve just spent Zoom time with Em.’
‘Hmm. How did it go? What’s the latest?’
‘Yeah, mate, she’s fine and well. Happy, you know. She has a new pink room with loads of toys and a pet kitten. Life couldn’t be better.’
‘How long since you last saw her?’
‘Couple of weekends ago because we haven’t got arrangements in place yet.’
‘Where is your wife living?’
‘Brisbane.’
‘Okay. Yeah, long drive. Did you let Lisa move there?’
‘No, of course not. But her family are there and I guess, it makes sense...’ His words petered out.
‘Yeah, that sucks. What’s Lisa saying about access?’
Noah told him that Lisa was being amenable to time whenever he wanted but the practicalities were difficult. The three-and-a-half-hour trip one way made dropping in after school or on Saturday morning to watch her dancing lesson impossible.
Andrew swore and Noah grimaced. Yeah, he understood; felt the same way to be fair but every swear word in the world didn’t change his situation. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as Andrew got worked up. Eventually he calmed and they talked through a range of options. There just wasn’t the option he wanted—to have Emily home with him.
Noah’s chest hurt as his mind flitted back to the last weekend they’d spent together as a happy family. They’d taken Otis for a walk along the creek and had a great muck-about time, chasing a ball and tumbling in the grass. They’d come home muddy but with big smiles. Oh, how he wanted to be doing that right now; for things to be different; like it was, how it used to be before Lisa left. Unfortunately, she’d met someone else, but he understood, it wasn’t about the new bloke, it was the lure of the bright lights of the city. Lisa was a city girl who’d given up her life and moved to Bellethorpe for the idyllic country experience; and done it for him. Like many city dwellers, she’d yearned for a hobby farm, a veggie patch and the rural trimmings. Except, like his father, some people couldn’t hack small town life with its lack of resources and comforts. But as the years had passed, Bellethorpe had advanced. Okay, it didn’t yet have a cinema but that would come. It was only two hours to the closest one anyway. In the country, that was a trip out for milk.
Noah could mull or he could try and fix the mess he found himself in. Andrew was still talking. Yep, he’d nut out what might work for spending time with Emily and talk to Lisa. Andrew was heavy on reminders of parental rights. He’d done that and each time it had ended in an argument, didn’t seem any point going over the same ground again. Andrew said they’d put it to the group next meeting and get some more ideas. The other guys had gone through this before and could help.
Noah arrived at the town hall, cut the engine but took a couple of deep breaths to loosen his tight muscles. All he wanted was to spend time with his daughter.
And on top of everything he’d lost the house he was pinning his future on. A family home for him and Emily. Even if she didn’t live with him full-time, it would have been their home, together.
Which is why he needed to attend this council meeting. To prevent something like that happening to others. The group of locals would make decisions about his beloved Bellethorpe without his input and make decisions he wouldn’t agree with. He had to attend.
And that was half the problem. He loved his home here in small town Bellethorpe, where he was born and raised. Noah loved this place with a fierce passion, similar only to the love he had for his daughter. He was old-school country and proud and determined to keep his town great. But the weight of that commitment was also hard to bear.
In weaker moments, he wondered what it would be like to care less, be more spontaneous and light-hearted. Then he could move closer to Emily and life wouldn’t be so tough. But the thought of leaving rural life made his muscles stiffen. Emily was born here … this should be her home. But those thoughts only spun him off on an emotional rollercoaster once more that did nothing but make his blood pressure spike.
Inside the usual faces were in session. This wasn’t a parliamentary meeting of local appointed pollies, but rather a group of concerned citizens and elected members attended too. Jacqueline Kennedy, the Mayor, never missed a meeting and she rose to greet him upon arrival.
‘I hope you brought your A game, this one is going to be feisty.’
Noah’s shoulders sagged. Another fight: he wasn’t sure he had it in him tonight.
The group settled and the chairperson raised the agenda. A development company had sought approval to develop a multi-storey shopping complex. Noah considered the plans and listened to the arguments as to why this was a wonderful idea.
These meetings were getting a bit old. It was always about new, brighter and better things for the benefit of citizens. Why didn’t anyone see that Bellethorpe was fantastic as it was. It had everything residents needed—fresh fruit and produce direct from the farms, plenty of local wine and major amenities. There was a good mix of community shops where residents could source whatever they needed. And if they couldn’t, another option was never far away. And whatever they didn’t have, they made up for in community spirit.
Someone spoke of tourism numbers and attracting more visitors to the region. Noah waited a beat before speaking up. ‘We have multiple wineries that attract thousands of people each year and have our local accommodation booked out on weekends, especially during those long winter months. We also have other attractions like the Christmas tree farm, the fruit orchards and the national park isn’t far away. Aren’t tourists coming here to escape their city life? They don’t come here to shop and if they do, they don’t want the same stores. They want something different.’
The tension in the room heightened and a few members rolled their eyes. He knew he was often the odd one out. The group said he was anti-development, anti-anything that generated change. They said he was against change even if it was for the better. The debate raged and as always, ended with the development group being allowed to submit their formal plans for consideration. It did become a bit like Groundhog Day with the same discussions on repeat. If nothing else, Noah Hawthorn would keep the bastards honest.
Back home, the house was dark and chilled, but not with cold air, emptiness surrounded him, pervaded every corner. Noah didn’t turn on the lights, but sat in the darkness, let his emotions whirl around him, alive and electric. He pulled out the earlier poem. Tinkered with it, tried out new words, other expressions. He scribbled notes by the light of his phone. Sometimes words were the only weapon he had that made him feel in control. Who knew that a simple builder from the country could do something else with his hands than make things?
Pain, grief, feeling sick
It’s always the mud that sticks
