Free Flying the Coop by Ilsa Evans Page B

Chris’s mother suddenly shrieked, without bothering to move the receiver away from her mouth. ‘Graham! Christin’s on the phone! Did you want to sayhello? Just tell me if you do, though, because she’s rung to talk to me this time. Not you.’
    â€˜Fine.’ Chris’s father’s deep, gravelly voice came quite clearly, indicating that he was probably in the same room as his wife.
    â€˜Look, Mum, the real reason I rang was to tell you my news.’
    â€˜You have news? Graham, she has news!’
    â€˜She’s not pregnant, is she?’
    â€˜Of course not. What a stupid thing to say.’ Chris’s mother lowered her voice: ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’
    â€˜Of course not,’ snapped Chris irritably.
    â€˜Thanks be. So what’s the news?’
    â€˜I’ve bought a farm!’
    â€˜A farm?’
    â€˜Yes, down in Healesville. It’s a free-range chook farm. A thriving business. The kids and I are going to move down there after settlement.’
    â€˜Graham, she’s bought a farm.’
    â€˜What the hell for?’
    â€˜ I don’t know. Christin, why did you buy a farm?’
    â€˜Because I wanted to!’
    â€˜Because she wanted to, Graham.’
    â€˜Girl’s a fool. Hope she didn’t use all her money.’
    â€˜Of course she wouldn’t, Graham! What a thing to suggest!’ Chris’s mother’s voice dropped again. ‘Chris, dear, you didn’t use all your money, did you?’
    â€˜It’s an investment , Mum!’
    â€˜Oh dear. This isn’t one of your . . . well, impetuous ideas, is it?’
    â€˜Certainly not.’
    â€˜And you’re sure you want to do this? And follow it through? Because, far be it from me to cast a bit of gloomand doom, but you’re not exactly known for commitment, are you?’
    â€˜I don’t think that’s quite –’
    â€˜Like your accountancy degree. I don’t know that your father ever got over you throwing that in halfway through. Then there was your netball. You were really good at that until you tossed it all away. Oh, and what about that saxophone you had to have? Halfway through the first term of lessons and you’d had enough. And then, of course, there’s your marriage.’
    â€˜Thanks for all your support,’ said Chris bitterly, picking up her wineglass with her spare hand and taking a gulp.
    â€˜And it’s not like you actually know anything about farming, do you?’
    â€˜I’ll learn.’
    â€˜She says she’ll learn, Graham.’
    â€˜Huh!’
    â€˜The owner’s staying on for a month to teach me everything. It won’t be a problem. Besides, how hard can poultry be?’
    â€˜Remember Fluffy?’ asked Chris’s mother in an ominous tone of voice.
    â€˜Fluffy was a rooster. And seeing as I won’t be having any roosters, or rabbits – because neither lay eggs – I can’t see history repeating itself.’
    â€˜Ask her if she still thinks battery hens run on batteries,’ called Chris’s father clearly.
    â€˜Tell Dad that was when I was about three. I’ve matured a bit since then.’
    â€˜She says she was only three, Graham, so don’t be stupid.’
    â€˜She was six , not three. Because it was when she went on that prep excursion to the farm. And some little boy put cow dung in her pocket and she lost her temper and socked him with her lunchbox and gave him concussion. We had to go up to the school.’
    â€˜Far be it from me to point the finger but she gets that temper from your side, you know. Same as the red hair.’
    â€˜That’s right, blame me.’
    â€˜Okay,’ replied his wife obligingly.
    â€˜Hey!’ called Chris loudly. ‘You two can discuss my genetic abnormalities later. I only called to give you my news.’
    â€˜Well, thanks for ringing, dear, it’s always lovely to