Fenced-In Felix Read online

  It was going well. The outgoing visitors had brought life and laughter to my little corner of the outback. The campers seemed to be enjoying themselves. And Josie… Josie had stirred me from my steady comfort zone and had encouraged me to try new things for the business. The guests’ laughter wafting back from the fire right now was proof of her good instincts.

  I wasn’t really a people person. My friends were all a lot more outgoing than me. The proof of that was in their success at including a disparate group of people and making them welcome. I was more of an introvert, happiest by myself or talking with friends. More of a listener than a talker, more of an observer than a participant. Even last night, in the company of friends, I’d listened to the banter between the others and hadn’t joined in much. I was probably in the wrong job. Horse training, with its solitude, was more up my alley. No people skills necessary.

  However, for better or for worse, I was running the campground, and I was making a go of it. Maybe I needed to be dragged out of my comfort zone occasionally.

  Something rustled behind me, and I glanced back, expecting to see a dingo, or maybe a ’roo, but it was Ripper who came leaping over. He seemed delighted that he had found me, and I looked around to see if anyone was with him.

  It wasn’t Sue or Moni who stepped across the sand, but Josie. Ripper ran in circles around her as she got closer.

  She came to a stop in front of me. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No. I just wanted a few moments by myself. I’m not used to so much company these days.”

  “Oh. Then I’ll leave you to it. Sorry.” She turned to go, and only then did it sink in that my words must have been taken as a rebuff. I took a couple of paces and grabbed her wrist.

  “No, I didn’t mean you. Please stay. If you want to.”

  She glanced at my fingers, still encircling her wrist, and I released her, but she didn’t move away.

  “It’s beautiful here in the darkness. Even Worrindi isn’t this silent.”

  I nodded. “I was thinking.”

  “About what?” As she came closer, there was a faint tang of wood smoke from the campfire in her hair.

  “About how unsuited I am to be running this campground.”

  “I think you’re doing a great job of it. Look back there.” One arm waved in the general direction of the fire. “Happy campers. The cabins get more bookings every day. You run trail rides a few times a week. You must be doing something right.”

  “Yeah. And that’s great. But the outgoing person who walks up to the campers and starts a conversation? That isn’t the real me. The real me is a person who lives alone and can go days without talking to another human.”

  “Is that what you want to return to?” She moved closer and placed her hand on my forearm, where it hugged my waist. “Sure, you’re an introvert, but most introverts still need some sort of interaction with others.”

  “No. Yes.”

  Josie looked puzzled. I wasn’t surprised. I was confusing myself. “I enjoy the company of others. Sue, Moni, the two from England. And I really enjoy your company. But all of you… Well, you’re a natural at conversation, at banter, at jokes. I think you could strike up a conversation with a rock.”

  Her teeth flashed white as she replied, “Well, only if the rock sat on a barstool and complained it was out of work and its partner had left it.”

  “There. That’s exactly what I mean. A quick response. You set people at ease. You came here, and in no time you organised the campfires and encouraged people to come trail riding. I’ve lived here all my life, and I can’t see what’s under my nose. I’m just wishing I were more like you and the others. Confident and outgoing. If I were, my business would fly along.”

  “Oh, Felix.” She shifted closer, and her hands settled on my waist. “And here I was, envying what you have with every fibre of my being. Wishing I were more like you, with your quiet confidence and sense of belonging.” Her lips twisted. “You don’t get it, do you? These faults you’ve listed, well, that’s what people love about you. That’s why you have campers coming and staying, even in the stinking weather we’ve got right now. You’re genuine, Felix. Honest and steady. Like that rock you mentioned. And it shines out of you, and people come flocking. Those campers? They’re all looking for the real outback, the one of Waltzing Matilda, red dirt and blue sky, and wide horizons. They’re not looking for the staged tourist experience. They’re looking for you. And you, exactly as you are, are part of that experience.”

  Her words made me pause. Maybe the negatives I’d perceived were some of the drawcards.

  Instead of dwelling on that, I focussed on Josie’s earlier words. “Would you really want to live somewhere as quiet as this?”

  She was silent. “Yeah. I would. I’ve never really felt I belonged anywhere. Not with my father, such as he is, and not in any of the towns and cities we moved to when I was a kid. Not any of the places I visited overseas, either. I’m not saying I belong here, but I would give it a fair crack at staying.” She heaved a sigh. “Maybe one day.”

  For a moment, we were silent. I loved Jayboro’s isolation and quietness, but at times, I was lonely. What would it be like to have someone to share that life with? Someone who loved the outback as much as I did? Sue and Moni had found each other; they were my marker as to what was possible. Maybe. One day. But equally, they were very lucky to have made their relationship work. Who would there be for me?

  Someone like Josie. The thought popped into my head. Here was a lesbian to whom I was attracted, standing in front of me and saying that she wanted nothing more than to live somewhere like Jayboro. It seemed like fate. But I was more cautious than that.

  Josie wanted this right now; next week or next month, her wants might be different.

  And Jayboro was mine. Handed down to me from my parents. It was my little patch of land, carved out of the main station and given to my father when he’d retired. I had Buckley’s chance of finding another tiny patch of land here outside of a town. Most of the land was held by the stations, huge parcels normally measured in square kilometres. There were stations that were larger than small European principalities, larger than whole counties. If I were to leave Jayboro for any reason, I would battle to find anywhere comparable.

  Sue had mentioned that to me once when she was talking generally about the division of assets when relationships failed. She’d warned me to think of that if I found a partner.

  It was way too early to think about Josie moving in with me, and even if she did, I didn’t think she was after what I could give her in a monetary sense. No, that wasn’t relevant. But did she see me as anything more than a convenient lesbian, someone who owned land she could escape to from Worrindi, somewhere she could board her horse?

  “You’re here now,” I said. It was a mundane comment, neutral. It didn’t offer anything or any encouragement for us together.

  “Yeah. And I think I’m pretty lucky at the moment. A job I enjoy. You here to visit. Flame.”

  Maybe, having Flame here was part of that security. Riding her—or not—wasn’t as important as knowing her horse was nearby. What did I know? I’d lived here all my life. It was hard for me to relate to Josie’s peripatetic lifestyle.

  “I’m glad you’re in Worrindi.” I meant it. Life was brighter with Josie in it.

  Her hands still rested on my waist, and I moved closer to enfold her in my arms. She fitted snugly under my chin, and her head rested on my shoulder. With her arms curved around my back, we stood for long moments in the darkness, pressed tight together. There was a burst of laughter from the campfire and then Ripper’s little sigh as he sat next to me and pressed his body against my leg.

  Josie raised her head, and the invitation was obvious. I bent to kiss her. The kiss was not one of passion, more one of exploration. Of warmth and getting to know her. Of promises, maybe, and a shared enjoyment of the night and where we were. Her tongue came out, touched mine, and then we were really kissing. Still not a kiss o
f passion, but one done for the pleasure of kissing without the expectation of more.

  Eventually, I raised my head. “We better get back. The others will wonder where we are.”

  Josie moved away and picked up my hand. She threaded her fingers through mine. “I don’t think they’ll wonder.”

  She was right. When we reappeared at the campfire, hands linked, there were a couple of knowing smiles. I was glad they didn’t give us the third degree.

  What I was building with Josie still felt too fragile to sustain much teasing.

  CHAPTER 11

  It was a late start the next morning, but the others were keen for another trail ride. Even though it was hot, the six of us went out for a gentle hour’s ride.

  Nora seemed more and more comfortable on a horse, so much so that she wondered aloud whether she and Ger could take lessons when they got home to England; maybe go on a trekking holiday in Scotland.

  Josie didn’t mention riding Flame, and I didn’t suggest it but merely threw her a halter and said that Diesel had enjoyed having a better rider for once.

  The others had to leave that day, but before they did, they cleaned their cabins so that I didn’t have to. I protested, saying it wasn’t necessary, but they did it anyway. Ger came over to get the clean linen, and they made the beds up for the guests arriving later and checked on what else was needed.

  “Maybe we should run a B&B in Mungabilly Creek.” Moni stuck her hands on her hips and looked around the immaculate cabin. “This doctoring and lawyering business is getting old. We could convert the house, have three guestrooms. Mrs T could cook breakfast.”

  “She wouldn’t be happy with that,” Nora remarked. “She reckons it’s hard enough taking care of you two messers.”

  “Stick to being a doctor,” Ger said. “And Sue has to stick at being a lawyer so that she can employ Nora if we come back for a six-month visit.”

  “Are you going to?” I asked.

  “Thinking about it. We’re having a great time, although realistically, we’re both city people, so if we did come back, we’d probably work in Brisbane for a stint.”

  “Maybe we’ll come back for the Melbourne Cup and see Fiery Lights win by three lengths!” Ger dug Josie in the ribs as she spoke and laughed at her own joke.

  There was a beat of silence, and then Josie chuckled, but there was an edge to it, the sort of laugh someone gives when they’re uncomfortable.

  I looked over to where Flame grazed in the paddock. With the extra hay Josie was supplying, she was filling out and was now sleek, whereas before she’d been too thin. She looked every inch the classic racehorse.

  “We have to go if we’re to get back to Mungabilly by dark.” Moni stepped forwards to hug me and reached up to kiss my cheek. “Thanks, Felix. It’s been great. Love the new cabins.”

  She released me, and Sue took her place. “Hope it continues well with Josie,” she whispered in my ear under the guise of a hug. She squeezed my hand and moved on to say goodbye to Josie.

  The two Brits also hugged me. “We’ve loved visiting,” Ger said. “I hope we’ll get to see you again.”

  “I love it here,” Nora said as she, too, kissed my cheek. “Think of me the next time you buy chicken in Worrindi.”

  “Chickodile,” said Sue.

  I stepped back with a grin as Nora whirled around and started chasing Sue while the others laughed. The chase ended abruptly when Nora cornered Sue against the fence and stuffed gum leaves down her shirt.

  “Don’t mind the children.” Ger grinned. “You’d think they were thirteen, not thirtysomething.”

  And then they all climbed into Sue’s four-wheel drive and were gone in a flurry of waving hands, Ripper’s barks, and shouted goodbyes.

  Josie and I were left alone. Suddenly, it seemed very calm. I’d loved having the others visit, but the silence was appealing.

  Josie was also quiet. Her hands rested on a fence post.

  “Need any help with anything?” she asked eventually. “I have to be back in Worrindi by early afternoon, though.”

  “Nothing you’d want to do. I have to clean the amenities block and the camp kitchen and empty the rubbish bins.”

  “Who do you think cleans the toilets at the Commercial? I’m not above such work, Felix.”

  She meant it. Sincerity infused her voice.

  “Thanks, but I can do it. I’ll be done soon, though, so why don’t you come up to the house in an hour or so and we can have a sandwich?”

  “Sure. I think I’ll take Flame for a walk. Poor old lady looks a little bored.”

  “Any news on when your tack might arrive?” I asked the question idly, but the answer was suddenly all-important.

  “No. I can’t contact my friend. I think she might be away.”

  “If you want to wait until after lunch, I can walk alongside if you want to ride Flame bareback.”

  “I think I’ll have to leave after lunch. Thank you, though.”

  “It seems silly, Josie, having her here and not riding her. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to try her first? Maybe if I ride her and get out all those kinks and hijinks from her not having been ridden for so long, you might feel more at ease.”

  “Maybe the next time I come up. I’ll see if Madge will give me another two days together next week. Maybe then.”

  “Maybe.” I hesitated. Words I shouldn’t say hovered on my tongue. It really wasn’t my business. As long as Josie paid her agistment fees, what concern was it of mine what she did with Flame? “That’s what you said before. I’m wondering if there’s something you’re not telling me? Some other reason you don’t want to ride Flame?”

  “Is that what you think?” Her gaze slid away to lock on Budgie and Smoke grazing side by side. “No. I’m just a little nervous. You’ve seen me ride your horses. You can tell I’m not that capable a rider. I don’t want to get ignominiously dumped on my arse in the dirt.”

  “Don’t want to get those mauve pants dirty?”

  “Purple. They’re purple.” She peeped sideways at me. “I’m trying to impress you, Felix, in case you haven’t noticed. Trying to fit in with your life.”

  There was enough of a smile in her voice that I couldn’t tell how serious she was. But the thought that she wanted to fit in with me was heartwarming. Was I falling for Josie? I knew that I was. But was I falling for her enough to ask her to stay, with all that entailed? Whoa, Felix, I thought. Whoa girl. Just because she’s the first single lesbian who’s come your way for a long time, doesn’t mean you should be booking her a U-Haul. Or a horse float.

  And there was still something that didn’t quite add up about Flame.

  We parted company. Me to the joys of cleaning the campground, plus a round of the few campers who were there. I offered a cheery hello, checked that they were okay, offered tourist advice if anyone asked, and made sure they were generally comfortable. I’d found that by doing this, someone often decided to stay an extra night or two or book a trail ride.

  Maybe Josie was right. Maybe my quiet approach was the way to go out here.

  “We enjoyed the campfire last night.” The Americans, Suze and Larry, had chatted with Moni last night and shared stories about America.

  “I’m glad. We organise them once a week or so, whenever there’s enough campers to make it worthwhile.”

  “We’re on our way down to Brisbane for a few days,” Suze said. “We’re going to meet up with a couple of friends, and then we’ll be touring. If we come back this way in a few weeks, do you think you’d be able to arrange one for us? Our friends would love it.”

  “Sure, weather permitting. It will be the height of the wet season then. You might not get through, and the heat will be intense. But if you make it, I’ll do it for you.”

  “That would be great. We’ll do our best. We had a great time last night.” She grinned. “Was it really crocodile your London friend was cooking?”

  I grinned too. “Chicken.”

  “Figured. We
do the same in Arizona and tell our visitors they’re eating rattlesnake. No rattlesnake I know has two breasts, two wings and tasty thigh meat.”

  “I better get on.” I lifted my cleaning gear. “Things to do. Take a card when you leave and give me a call when you know you’ll be back this way. It will be my pleasure to have you stay again.”

  “Thanks, Felix. And please thank your…partner? Girlfriend? I’m sorry, I’m an old fuddy-duddy and I don’t know the preferred word.”

  “Josie?”

  Suze nodded.

  “Josie’s not my partner. She’s a friend.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “No worries.” I gave Suze a reassuring smile so she knew I hadn’t taken offence and left with my cleaning gear.

  The amenities block was already sparkling clean. I suspected Sue and the others had been through there too. Both cabins would be occupied again tonight. They were going so much better than I’d hoped. Maybe this time next year, there’d be four cabins standing there. Not in a row; that was too ordered and smacked of the type of commercial campground that my guests seemed keen to avoid. Maybe up on the slight rise. That would also put them further out of reach of any flood—although if there was a wet season like that of 2011, nothing would save them from going under. Even my house, nearly two metres in the air on stilts, had had water lapping mere centimetres under the floorboards and brown snakes climbing up onto the veranda to escape the flood.

  I bagged up the rubbish and went back to the house to prepare the promised sandwich. Over in the paddock, Josie’s mauve pants stood out like a beacon as she led Flame around the perimeter. Flame ambled along like a compliant old nag. I really couldn’t see her giving any trouble to a rider, even bareback, but then horses were unpredictable creatures, as my dad had been fond of saying. He should know. Over the years, falls off those unpredictable creatures had broken more than a dozen bones in his body.

  Back at the house, I made some simple sangers with sliced bread from the freezer, ham, and tomato. I put them on a plate with the last of Nora’s coleslaw from last night and carried it out to the veranda to wait for Josie.