the hallway, wriggling her bum back into her
skirt. She couldn’t get the grin off her face.
* * * * *
Mick drove through the front gates of
the rodeo grounds and then stopped to pay a little old couple at the gate. The
sun had set and the halogen lights blared over the main arena. Mick got
chatting for so long that Liz and Sophie got out and headed for the grandstand.
The Ladies’ Barrel
Race was in full flight and Liz clambered to the top of the grandstand to
watch. Sophie followed up the wide concrete steps. On the way up she nodded
hello to Jaimie and his Bangaloo mates. They lifted their hands in hello and
kept talking among themselves. Whatever they were talking about seemed intense,
so she kept walking. Men were tedious when they started arguing.
They passed Pete and
Paul, who sat with a bunch of girls who looked as if they were still in high
school. Best not to cramp their style, she thought, feeling suddenly old. She
kept climbing.
‘Rene!’ She called out
and he spotted her. He gave her an uncomfortable smile and waved, but didn’t
shift over to offer a seat, instead quickly turning back to the people he was
sitting with. What was with everyone tonight?
The only spare seats were
at the very top of the grandstand, behind a mob of young blokes who looked as
if they would be riding bulls later in the evening: they wore large black hats,
rodeo belt buckles and dirty jeans.
‘Why is everyone so uptight?’
she said to Liz as she looked down on Jaimie and his mates. Usually everyone
buzzed with warm welcomes on rodeo night. Tonight everyone seemed so serious.
Maybe they just hadn’t lubed up yet.
‘They don’t want to be
seen talking to Brett Sampson’s girlfriend,’ Liz answered.
‘Seriously?’ She was
incredulous. ‘I’m not his girlfriend. We’ve never even shagged.’
Liz gave her a
disbelieving scoff. ‘Do you think we’re all stupid?’
‘I haven’t,’ she
swore, swiping her fingers back and forth across her chest. ‘Cross my heart and
hope to become a nun, I haven’t.’
‘I still don’t think
any bloke is game to go near you.’
Sophie rolled her eyes
‘Why? Do they think he’ll come and murder them or something?’
Damn it. How had Brett
done that: kept her under the thumb when he wasn’t even here? He’d been around
for little more than a week and somehow managed to lay some exclusive claim
over her, a claim acknowledged by the entire district. That would be fine, if
he had spoken more than three words to her all week, or actually given her some
red hot sex, as everyone at this rodeo seemed to be imagining. He wasn’t even
here to sling a possessive arm over her shoulder.
Pfft, what did it
matter? They could all just get over it. She was her own person. Always would
be. When she got home she would get straight online and look through some dildo
catalogues. She’d buy herself a good one. From America. Where everything was
supersized.
In the arena, a palomino
mare cantered around the barrels. ‘Hey, that’s a Stoneleigh mare,’ she said excitedly
to Liz. She took a seat and pulled a bottle of water out of her bag. ‘She was
one of the first horses I broke in up here. Out of a quarterhorse mare. Gee,
she’s slow! No wonder Boss Carney sold her.’ She took a guzzle and replaced the
lid.
‘I remember her,’ said
Liz. ‘Real pretty horse.’
Liz knew bugger all
about horses. She still brought cooked vegetables left over from the kitchen to
the horse shed, thinking soggy cauliflower cheese made a good horse treat.
One of the men in
front of her turned and stared. She vaguely recognised him, probably from steer
riding. He was from one of the nearby stations, though she couldn’t recall
which. She gave him a brief smile, but his eyes scrutinised her in a way that
didn’t seem complimentary. He turned back to the others and Sophie noticed him
whack his mate on the leg. He leaned in and whispered something into the guy’s
ear and he too turned around and
skirt. She couldn’t get the grin off her face.
* * * * *
Mick drove through the front gates of
the rodeo grounds and then stopped to pay a little old couple at the gate. The
sun had set and the halogen lights blared over the main arena. Mick got
chatting for so long that Liz and Sophie got out and headed for the grandstand.
The Ladies’ Barrel
Race was in full flight and Liz clambered to the top of the grandstand to
watch. Sophie followed up the wide concrete steps. On the way up she nodded
hello to Jaimie and his Bangaloo mates. They lifted their hands in hello and
kept talking among themselves. Whatever they were talking about seemed intense,
so she kept walking. Men were tedious when they started arguing.
They passed Pete and
Paul, who sat with a bunch of girls who looked as if they were still in high
school. Best not to cramp their style, she thought, feeling suddenly old. She
kept climbing.
‘Rene!’ She called out
and he spotted her. He gave her an uncomfortable smile and waved, but didn’t
shift over to offer a seat, instead quickly turning back to the people he was
sitting with. What was with everyone tonight?
The only spare seats were
at the very top of the grandstand, behind a mob of young blokes who looked as
if they would be riding bulls later in the evening: they wore large black hats,
rodeo belt buckles and dirty jeans.
‘Why is everyone so uptight?’
she said to Liz as she looked down on Jaimie and his mates. Usually everyone
buzzed with warm welcomes on rodeo night. Tonight everyone seemed so serious.
Maybe they just hadn’t lubed up yet.
‘They don’t want to be
seen talking to Brett Sampson’s girlfriend,’ Liz answered.
‘Seriously?’ She was
incredulous. ‘I’m not his girlfriend. We’ve never even shagged.’
Liz gave her a
disbelieving scoff. ‘Do you think we’re all stupid?’
‘I haven’t,’ she
swore, swiping her fingers back and forth across her chest. ‘Cross my heart and
hope to become a nun, I haven’t.’
‘I still don’t think
any bloke is game to go near you.’
Sophie rolled her eyes
‘Why? Do they think he’ll come and murder them or something?’
Damn it. How had Brett
done that: kept her under the thumb when he wasn’t even here? He’d been around
for little more than a week and somehow managed to lay some exclusive claim
over her, a claim acknowledged by the entire district. That would be fine, if
he had spoken more than three words to her all week, or actually given her some
red hot sex, as everyone at this rodeo seemed to be imagining. He wasn’t even
here to sling a possessive arm over her shoulder.
Pfft, what did it
matter? They could all just get over it. She was her own person. Always would
be. When she got home she would get straight online and look through some dildo
catalogues. She’d buy herself a good one. From America. Where everything was
supersized.
In the arena, a palomino
mare cantered around the barrels. ‘Hey, that’s a Stoneleigh mare,’ she said excitedly
to Liz. She took a seat and pulled a bottle of water out of her bag. ‘She was
one of the first horses I broke in up here. Out of a quarterhorse mare. Gee,
she’s slow! No wonder Boss Carney sold her.’ She took a guzzle and replaced the
lid.
‘I remember her,’ said
Liz. ‘Real pretty horse.’
Liz knew bugger all
about horses. She still brought cooked vegetables left over from the kitchen to
the horse shed, thinking soggy cauliflower cheese made a good horse treat.
One of the men in
front of her turned and stared. She vaguely recognised him, probably from steer
riding. He was from one of the nearby stations, though she couldn’t recall
which. She gave him a brief smile, but his eyes scrutinised her in a way that
didn’t seem complimentary. He turned back to the others and Sophie noticed him
whack his mate on the leg. He leaned in and whispered something into the guy’s
ear and he too turned around and
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