Free The Break by Deb Fitzpatrick Page A

another.
    Rosie said, ‘I’m a bit scared to get up, in case I don’t like the place anymore.’
    Cray looked reproachful, alarmed.
    She laughed. ‘No, no, don’t worry, I’m only kidding.’
    â€˜I can’t wait to get up,’ he said. ‘I’ve been awake since about five. Waiting for you to wake up. Since when did you sleep in, anyway?’
    â€˜Since when didn’t
you
?’
    Rosie stayed in bed while Cray got up like a kid on holiday and started cracking eggs rather dramatically in the kitchen.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ she laughed.
    â€˜Scramblers. Up to it?’
    â€˜Of
course
.’
    She heard him put the things down then, and cross the house to the ocean side. She heard him yank open the sticking sliding doors and the creak of the verandah as he stepped outside. She felt, and smelled, sea air fill the house.

9
    Tassie blue gums reached orange tips to the sky. Liza walked in line with a row of young trunks, thermos in hand, wishing the poor buggers didn’t have to be planted in such an unerring grid. She stopped, listening for sounds of Ferg: rustling, pruning, muttering. Sam was at home, eating vegemite on soft white bread — his favourite — and browsing on the internet. Sometimes she’d hear the odd
Wow!
coming from his room, and she didn’t regret him getting that computer at all. Not as long as they were on the farm and he was still interested in life outside his bedroom; in the river, where she knew he went sometimes before it got dark, though she didn’t let on, not to him, not to Ferg. She often saw him heading off through Mrs Perry’s place, into that striped evening sky. He always went on his own, and she’d watch him moving away from the house, crouching down sometimes to examine some small thing that had caught his eye.
    Mike had rung earlier, in high spirits. The doctor said he could come down, had teed up a nurse at the local hospital to keep him on track with the program if he wanted to make the move. Liza wanted to say
Don’t come down, don’t come down and get Ferg all messed up again
, but how could she — Mike was family, and he was over the moon about his decision. She was going to need to remind Ferg that everyone deserved to feel wanted.
    So here she was with a thermos of coffee to tell Ferg what he didn’t want to hear. And she was going to be on his side about it. She would not even insinuate how he
ought
to feel.
    She held a foil package lightly, so the heat from her fingers didn’t melt the chocolate. Mint Slices, her favourite.
    â€˜Stand up, you stubborn bastard.’ He was trying to prop up a young tree against a stake, but it kept sliding away and bouncing back to its angled stance.
    â€˜Maybe a piece of rag tied around it would make it stay, Ferg.’
    He turned around. ‘Christ! I didn’t hear you coming. A rag, yeah, I know, but I ran out of your old t-shirts the other day. Mmmm, I hope that’s what I think it is, and what’s that?’
    â€˜Yep, coffee. And some biscuits.
My old t-shirts
,’ she gave him a death-ray glare.
    â€˜They’re great for farm jobs.’
    â€˜So glad I’m useful for something.’
    Ferg let go of the tree, laughing. He sat down on a dry patch of ground, patting the earth next to him for her.
    They poured the coffee into enamel mugs, talked about their day.
    Eventually, she said, ‘Um, Mike rang. Earlier.’
    Ferg looked up at her, learned from her face what he needed to know.
    â€˜Oh, shit.’ His head lolled into his free hand, coffee sloping dangerously in the cup. ‘Shit. When?’
    â€˜Well, he said he’s not sure. He wants you to ring him and you can sort it out together. I think he knows he might be imposing, Ferg, cos he said he’d probably rent a place in town.’
    â€˜Good.’
    Liza stopped herself from saying anything more. Ferg got up and walked back to the