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CHAPTER
42
The world didn’t stop revolving just because Joey felt like he was dying on the inside. Daisy was at his door at half-past eight Monday morning with a snuffling four-foot sausage of spotty flannel beside her.
‘Joey—I’m in a bind. Can you mind Amy for me?’
He looked down and slapped his Happy Uncle Joey persona into place. ‘Amy? Are you sure she’s here with you? All I can see is this giant … squishy … polka-dotty’—he put his tickling fingers to work at what he guessed was rib height and was rewarded with a snotty giggle—‘lump.’
Amy tossed back the flannel hood of her dressing gown. ‘It’s me! It’s me, Uncle Joey.’
‘She’s crook,’ said Daisy, ‘so I can’t send her to holiday care, but I’m driving Mum and Dad into Lismore today for Dad’s radiation treatment. It’s no place for snuffling eight-year-olds.’
‘I’mnine, Mum,’ said Amy. ‘Maybe if you’d remembered to put candles on my birthday cake last week, you’d know how old I am.’
Daisy rolled her eyes over Amy’s head. ‘Somebody gets a little fractious when they have a runny nose.’
He pulled Amy’s pigtail. ‘Are you too fractious to see the surprise I’ve got for you? Go stand at the back door and wave a piece of cheese around.’
His niece looked up at him. ‘No way. Is Gus back?’
‘Why don’t you go find out?’
‘But stay inside where it’s warm!’ yelled Daisy after the spotty lump careened off down his corridor to the back of the house. She turned back to him. ‘Sorry.’
‘Ken needs my help in town at two o’clock. One of his helpers can’t make it. Will you be back by then?’
‘Should be. Thanks, Joey, I hope you don’t mind me dropping Amy in like this.’
‘I don’t mind so long as it’s okay for her to watch TV if we run out of kid-safe activities. I’ve set today aside for moping.’ Had he said that out loud? ‘I mean, for muster business, so I’ll be on the phone. I guess Amy can help me with getting the lanyards sorted. Tuning the walkie-talkies … that sort of thing.’
‘You’re a lamb, Joey. You need me to pick up ice-cream? Booze? A romcom from the library? They are the classic accompaniments to moping.’
He winced. ‘No thanks. I’ll be handling my dumped heart the manly way, Daisy.’
‘What way is that?’
He shook his head. If he knew, he’d be doing it.
‘Come here, you big lug,’ she said and pulled him in for a hug. ‘While I’ve got you in my clutches … there’s something you need to know.’
Another muster job, great. It wasn’t like he had trees to fertilise, seedlings to inspect, muffins to bake.
‘This is going to be one of those occasions where it’s not okay to shoot the messenger, okay?’
He pulled back from her so he could see her face. Yes. Guilty as. ‘What is it?’
‘There’s a rumour going around town.’
‘Daisy, if this is about Mrs Farmer Joe, I’ve already heard more than I want to.’
‘Only indirectly. We got this from Carol, who got it from Kirsty.’
‘Hang on a sec … who’s “we”?’
‘Me, Merv O’Connor, Ken, Hogey.’
‘Clarence has a gossip quartet now?’
