and his son looked up at him with a huge, happy grin. It might even have been an admiring grin. A loving grin?
Whatever it was, it hefted a raw punch.
‘Up, Joe!’
‘OK, mate. Up you come.’
Jacko squealed with delight as Joe swung him high, over the side of the cot. Then, for a heady moment, Joe held the boy in his arms, marvelling at his softness, at his pink and gold perfection.
Hell. He could remember when this healthy, bouncing kid had been nothing more than a cluster of frozen invisible cells in a laboratory—one of the sproglets that had caused him and Ellie so much hope and heartbreak.
Now the collection of cells was Jacko, their miraculous solo survivor.
And, after everything they’d been through, Joe found himself in awe.
‘Wee-wee!’ announced Jacko, wriggling with a need to be out of Joe’s arms.
He quickly set the kid down. ‘Do you want the toilet?’
Jacko nodded and clutched at the front of his shorts, pulling a face that made the matter look urgent.
‘Let’s go.’ With a hand on his shoulder, Joe guided him quickly down the hallway to the bathroom, realising as he did so that, despite having several young nieces and nephews, this was a brand new experience.
‘I think you have to stand on this fellow,’ he said, grabbing a plastic turtle with a flat, step-like back and positioning it in front of the toilet bowl.
Jacko was red-faced as he climbed onto the step and tugged helplessly at the elastic waistband on his shorts. It was a moment before Joe realised he was needed to help the boy free of his clothing, which included pulling down a miniature pair of underpants printed with cartoon animals.
‘OK. There you go. You’re all set now.’
And then, out of nowhere, a fleeting memory from his own childhood flashed. Tearing a corner of paper from the roll on the wall, Joe dropped it into the bowl.
‘See if you can pee on the paper,’ he said.
Jacko looked up at him with open-mouthed surprise, but then he turned back and, with commendable concentration, did exactly as Joe suggested.
The kid was smart.
And right on target.
‘Bingo!’ Joe grinned. ‘You did it. Good for you, Jacko!’
Jacko beamed up at him. ‘Bingo, Joe!’
‘You’ve earned a high five!’ Joe held out his hand.
‘What are you two up to?’
They both turned to find Ellie in the hallway behind them, hands on hips. Beautiful but frowning.
‘I did Bingo, Mummy,’ Jacko announced with obvious pride as he stood on the turtle with his shorts around his ankles.
‘Bingo? What are you talking about?’ She directed her frown at Joe.
He pointed into the bowl. ‘Jacko hit the piece of paper. I thought it would help him to aim.’
‘Aim?’ Ellie stared at him, stared at both of them, her dark eyes frowning with disbelief. As comprehension dawned, her mouth twisted into the faintest glimmer of a smile—a smile that didn’t quite make it.
‘He’s not in the Army yet,’ she said tightly. ‘And don’t forget to wash your hands, Jacko. It’s time for your afternoon tea.’
* * *
‘So, do you have a job for me?’ Joe asked once Jacko was perched on a stool at the kitchen bench and tucking into a cup of juice and a plate of diced cheese and fruit.
Ellie looked pained—an expression Joe was used to seeing after a phone call from her mother. No doubt Angela Fowler had once again piled on the sympathy for her poor daughter’s terrible fate—this time, being forced to spend Christmas with her dropkick ex.
In the past, that pained look had irritated Joe. Today, he was determined to let it wash over him.
‘Perhaps I could assemble the Christmas tree?’ he suggested.
‘That would be helpful.’ Ellie didn’t follow through with a smile. ‘The tree’s in one of the boxes on the veranda.’
‘You’d like it in the lounge room?’
‘Yes, please.’
* * *
Ellie took a deep breath as she watched Joe head off to the veranda.
Conversations with her mother had always been heavily laced with anti-Joe sentiments and today had been a doozy.
This is a dangerous time for you, Ellie. I don’t like the idea of the two of you alone up there. You’ll have to be very careful, especially if Joe tries anything.
Tries what, Mum?
Tries to...to win you back.
Of course, Ellie had assured her mother there was no chance of that. Absolutely. No. Chance. But she wished this certainty hadn’t left her feeling quite so desolate.
These next few days were going to be hard enough with the two of them stuck in the house while the rain continued pelting down outside. It would be so much easier if she could carry on with the outside work, but the cattle were safe and until the rain stopped there wasn’t a lot more she could do.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t even give Joe a decent book to read. Since Jacko’s birth, she’d only had time for cattle-breeding journals, women’s magazines and children’s picture books.
Ellie decided to let Joe get on with the tree while she cooled her heels in the kitchen with Jacko, for once letting him dawdle over his food, but as soon as he’d finally downed his afternoon tea, he was keen to be off.
‘Where’s Joe?’ was the first thing he asked.
So they went back to the lounge room and, to Ellie’s surprise, Joe had almost finished assembling the six-foot tree. He made it look dead easy, of course.
Jacko stared up at the tree, looking puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand why adults would set up a tree inside the house. As an outback boy, he hadn’t seen any of the city shops with brightly lit trees and Santa Clauses, although he had vague ideas about Christmas from books and TV.
‘This is our Christmas tree,’ Ellie explained to him. ‘Mummy’s going to make it pretty with lights and decorations, and soon there’ll be lots of presents underneath it.’
At the mention of presents Jacko clapped his hands and took off, running in circles.
‘Well, that got a reaction,’ said Joe, amused.
‘He can still remember the pile of presents he scored
