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Shutting the door on Bridie, Caleb strode to the kitchen. He collected the dish of beef lasagne from the fridge and shoved it towards the bin. The solid mass didn’t move, and he rammed it again. The dish jammed against the edge of the plastic tub and spilled over. With two hands Caleb thrust the whole thing in and pushed hard for good measure, cracking the bin and causing the dish to shatter to the ground and scattering the contents across the floor.
8
‘How are you feeling?’ Caleb smoothed the hair off Sybella’s brow. It wasn’t clammy today.
‘Much better,’ Sybella replied and sat up in bed. The colour had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling once more. ‘But, but, tell me,’ she said, ‘what did everyone think of the lasagne? Did they love it?’
Caleb didn’t blink. ‘I don’t know, no one said,’ and he turned his eyes away, suddenly very interested in the contents of her bedroom.
‘What!’ she exclaimed, ‘I’ll ask them tomorrow. I bet it was the best they’d ever had.’
Caleb kept his gaze diverted. He wasn’t so sure the kids loved the frozen version he’d purchased from the local co-op this morning en route to school, but hey, who knew? It was much better than the alternative and that was poisoning the entire school community with his efforts.
‘That vomiting was gross. Uncle Caleb, can wild berries make you sick?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Yesterday yukky Joshua Thomas dared me to eat a bunch of berries we found growing at the edge of the playground. He called me a baby when I said I wouldn’t. I’m no baby so I ate them.’
She had his attention now. ‘Did anyone else eat them?’
Sybella sat up taller. ‘No one else was brave enough.’
He gripped Sybella’s spare pillow tight to his chest. Was it possible his cooking wasn’t responsible? A flicker of hope flared…but surely a few berries wouldn’t make her vomit all night? But he guessed, she was tiny, a little waif of a thing. Doubt crept in. She’d eaten the dish he’d prepared only hours later; but he’d cooked the beef extra-long. If he’d had a drink, would it have been different? Too much coincidence…
Sybella touched him on the arm when he took too long to reply. ‘Well, they could, I guess. It depends. How about next time you don’t take the risk and call him a baby back for being an idiot?’
She giggled. ‘Yeah, okay. It’s not worth that gross sick. Next time I’ll be braver and say no.’
Caleb didn’t know what to do with that information. Berries or lasagne? A freak accident or his cooking? It was easier to think the worst. And no one was sick at school yesterday, so disaster diverted.
‘As you’re feeling better, I’m thinking we visit Bridie at her farm. What do you say we make berries and Greek yoghurt tomorrow for tuckshop? We can cut up the strawberries and place them in a plastic cup and top it with yoghurt and granola? Sound good?’
‘Yummy, yes, except we need to use a recyclable paper cup, okay?’
‘Okay,’ he agreed.
He’d rarely used his car since arriving in Bellethorpe. It had taken an eternity to drive from Sydney but since then, he’d only walked the small distances in town. Except the Finch Berry Farm wasn’t walkable but only a short drive away.
Dark clouds bruised the sky and turned the world a grey pallor; a gust of wind buffeted the car door as he opened it. Caleb hadn’t bothered with a warm jacket but checked Sybella was wearing one. It was blue with stars on it.
‘There’s lots of fruit in this town, isn’t there?’ he commented as they passed Appletree Orchard with a large red golden delicious sitting atop a high pole. Then they passed a few wineries, that was more his style. He could taste the crisp dry white liquid as they passed Carrington Estate Wines and then next, Cockatoo Ridge Winery.
Less than five minutes from the CBD of Bellethorpe, the rain bucketed down in large, fat drops and even in the car the temperature dipped to freezing. Whether it was the ominous weather or being out of the township, but it felt like they were miles from civilisation and that sensation on his first day of entering a horror movie returned. If it wasn’t for the scattering of low-set fibro farmhouses and long stretches of fields with a variety of produce, he might be on a highway to hell. Times like this he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the country.
The flash of a bright red sign became obvious through the weather. Green letters advertised Finch Berry Farm and sure enough, next to it was a grand red strawberry so life-like it even had the pips and a bushy green top.
Turning where the arrow indicated, they entered a long drive lined with tall, majestic eucalypt trees adjacent to fields of yellow grass. As they moved closer, paddocks filled with lines of berries surrounding a home set in the middle. ‘She has a shop here, too,’ he addressed Sybella as they pulled into a designated parking area.
‘Yeah. It’s only open on weekends, I think. Not sure. You can do a tour, too and once they had a train, you know for kids. You’re too big.’ She undid her buckle. ‘We’re gonna get soaked.’
Caleb wiped the frosted glass interior and searched outside for any form of shelter. ‘Hey, what’s that over there?’ he pointed and Sybella raised in her seat to get a better look.
A blob of pink bounced up and down in frantic movements. ‘That’s Bridie. What the heck is she doing out there?’ his voice became a whisper as a crack of thunder boomed across the sky. ‘You wait here,’ he commanded Sybella, and he raced out of the car.
The rain belted down in heavy sheets, blinding him. His shoes sank into the softening ground, and he was saturated through to the skin in seconds. Reaching her side, he shouted, ‘Bridie, what are you doing?’ With jerky and fast movements, Bridie kept searching for berries and shoving them into the basket at her feet. ‘Bridie!’ he said and touched her arm that flung back in fright, the berry she held, flying through the air.
‘What are you doing? Stop,’ he gripped her arm.
