Gone Fishin'
Chapter 26

Copyright© 2010 by Pedant

It seemed a rather long drive, but we found 'River Pines' quite easily. I pulled in and by the time we were out of the Rover, there was a woman coming towards us from the house. She was fairly tall, rather thin and had the shiniest black hair I'd ever seen.

"How do you do?" she said. "I'm Mary Kelly and you must be the Scotts."

"Hello, Mrs. Kelly," said Rob, "Not quite. I'm Robert Gordon Scott and this is my daughter Weena Hollister and her husband, my son-in-law, Gordon Hollister."

"Ah, a family outing? Well, let me show you the cabin and then I'll fix us some tea and cake."

Weena and I still hadn't said a word. We followed Mrs. Kelly past the house to a small "cabin." She opened to door to reveal a sitting room-kitchen and three doors: two led to bedrooms, the middle to the washroom. I went back to the car to get the bags and put them inside. Rob and Mrs. Kelly were chatting. I heard Rob refer to himself as a widower who was retiring and looking for a place to "loaf and fish." Mrs. Kelly remarked that he could fish "here," that she even still had her husband's tackle. With that she led us back to her house.

It was a comfortable, small house. Stone below and then timbered with wood siding. Mrs. Kelly offered us tea, but we agreed it was too close to meal time for cake. "I frequently just have tea and cake with butter and preserves at this time and a meal in the middle of the day," she told us.

"That's why you're so thin, lassie," said Rob. "You'll just have to come out for a real meal tonight. Perhaps to the hotel. You can direct us on the shorter way into town."

"Oh! I couldn't! I've not been out for dinner in ages."

"I'll brook no denial. You're saving us from one of those ghastly places off the Busselton highway."

I looked at Weena, who was clearly amazed at her father in full pickup mode. He reminded me of a few lads I knew in Canberra – walk into a pub, focus on a woman, and that was that. I thought he was pretty slick for a man over 50.

"The lad who sent us here called you the widow. Was it a recent loss?"

"Oh. Not really. Just over a year. But it was sudden."

"A friend of ours on a station lost her husband to a snake in a woodpile," I remarked. Weena was watching as though she was at a three-way tennis match.

"My Ned was struck by a tree. The trees give to us and the trees take away."

"Ned Kelly?" I couldn't keep it back.

"Yes. Edward Kelly. His family claimed that they were related to the outlaw. And they were from Victoria. Ned was proud of it. He was brought up thinking the government was evil. Anyway, Ned was a forester. He was out among the karris when – they think – a gust brought one down on his truck. Weakened by termites, they said. I doubt whether he knew it."

"You poor woman," murmured Weena.

"My son and daughter both wanted me to come live with them, but he's in Queensland and she's married and far north, in Broome, and I love it here." She looked at us. "And what about you two?"

"I'm a nurse. I was living in Laverton and Gordy arrived and swept me away. We were married less than a month after we met. We live in Perth now."

"Very succinct, dear. But less than a story. Maybe your husband can fill in a bit."

"I work for the CSIRO – I guess I'm part of the evil government. I was sent to Laverton and entrapped by this siren. But my folks are in Queensland. What does your son do?"

"Cattle breeding. He's in North Burnett. They do something with cross-bred Angus."

"Really, my family's south-west of there, Mitchell, near Roma. My dad raises cattle and my older brother's a vintner. There's a good market for pedigreed beef. Our friends in the Territory raise cattle, too."

"Sorry to break in," said Rob. "But let's get going before the rush starts and it gets dark. I expect that you ladies want to freshen up. Gilding the lily." Mrs. Kelly blushed. Silver-tongued bastard, I thought

We went back to our cabin and Weena headed straight for the washroom. "You're a devil," I said to Rob.

"Not at all. I'm being nice to a widow. I'll bet she's living on insurance and what little this cabin brings in. Anyway, she's a good-looking woman, even if a bit thin. And I'll bet that's the result of scrimping on food."

"You're at least part right, I'll admit. I wonder what she meant about fishing right here."

"We'll find out tomorrow. You might open up a bit as to what you both do. Otherwise, I'll have a conversational vacuum to fill."

Weena popped out. "Next!" Rob replaced her.

"Your dad thinks we should do more talking at dinner."

 
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