Joe knows nothing of this and he would kill me if he knew I’d asked you to help him.
So if you could possibly drop in, pretending you have work for Jessica, and, seeing the pile of logs, ask about them in my presence. I will then explain about them needing to be moved and then, if you’ll offer to help load them, right there in front of Joe? We can offer you little in return, but would be delighted if you would stay for tea. I know Jessica and Meg would like that very much. Yours sincerely,
Hester Bergman (Mrs).
It is a crude enough plan but it has the virtue of simplicity and an element of truth. The fence posts do need to be moved and Joe’s back has been troublin
g him sufficiently for Jessica to persuade him to postpone the task for several days.
The idea is for Jack-to arrive and to be told by Meg that Jessica has been somewhat unwell for some time. Joe, unbeknownst to Hester, has that very morning decided to take her into Wagga to see their family doctor. Furthermore, a message has arrived to say that old Mrs Baker has taken a turn for the worse and Hester has gone over to be with her. The combination of events has, regrettably, made it impossible to get a note over to Riverview Station in time to cancel Jack’s visit. Meg is therefore left behind, alone in the homestead, but she’s made a nice tea and baked an apple pie and she insists Jack stays to eat as originally planned by her mother. The rest, as they say in the classics, should see nature take its course.
There is usually very little movement on the road to Yanco before sun-up and not a lot after. Occasionally a bullock dray makes an early start to avoid the heat of the day and may be seen trudging its weary-looking way to one of the outlying stations. If such is the case on this particular Thursday early morning, its driver will be puzzled to observe Jack Thomas clattering and clanking on his way home to Riverview Station in his motor car.
Jack has slept little, with Meg proving to be a most willing partner, keeping him busy until he cries out from exhaustion. It had proved very awkward when Meg first started to be amorous with Jack who was somewhat taken by surprise. He had moved the logs on his own and had returned to the kitchen, where Meg had put out a bottle of stout for him. She’d bade him sit on a small bench at the table and poured the dark, rich liquid into a glass and placed it in front of him, and then she’d sat next to him, her thigh rubbing against his. He tries now to recall the exact sequence of events, his mind back in the Bergman kitchen.
Jack is unable to move without sliding off the side of the bench. He is nonplussed and brings the glass to his lips to conceal his embarrassment. Now he feels Meg’s hand placed boldly on his thigh.
He brings the glass down from his lips and places it back on the table.
‘Ah, I don’t think we should, er ... I’m not sure,’ he stammers.
Meg laughs. ‘It’s a present, a going-away present, just a little kiss, Jack.’ She is surprised at her own boldness and at how easily the words come.
‘Meg, we’re not walking out together,’ Jack says doubtfully.
‘But we should be, Jack, I have always wanted you.’
‘Wanted me?’ Jack looks at her, surprised.
‘To walk out with me,’ Meg laughs.
‘Well, it’s not like that, see,’ Jack manages, ‘I’m sort of ... well, Jessie.’
‘We both love you, Jack,’ Meg says quickly, stopping him from going any further. ‘Don’t you want me to say goodbye to you properly?’ Meg rises slightly and kisses Jack on the cheek. She smells of rosewater and her lips are soft against his rough, stubbled skin. Her hand now rests between his legs and Jack knows that she will soon feel his rising, feel him coming alive. He tries to fight back the urge that overcomes him. ‘Meg, I mustn’t.’
‘Mustn’t what, Jack? Mustn’t let me give you a little farewell kiss, a little present to take to the war?’ She takes Jack’s head in both her hands and turns him towards her and kisses him gently on the lips, her kiss lingering. Meg is beginning to get excited herself. Suddenly she rises from the table. ‘Come, Jack.’
Jack is afraid to rise, afraid his reaction to her kisses will show through his trousers, but Meg pulls at his hand. He rises slowly, and Meg turns and kisses him as he stands. ‘Come and get your reward, my brave soldier going to war,’ she coos.
Meg leads Jack into Hester’s bedroom which still contains the marriage bed which Joe has not shared for many years. The linen is freshly starched and the bed wears the prettiest rose and blue coloured quilt Meg herself has appliqued.
‘No, Meg, really,’ Jack says, pulling back, ‘I can’t, please, I mustn’t.’
Meg stops and turns to him and her large, dark eyes fill with tears. ‘Jack I want to give you this present. I want to give you what I value the most.’ She gives a pitiful little sob. ‘Now I see I’m not good enough for you. Not good enough for the high and mighty Jack Thomas.’ She gives a second little sob and looks up at him. Bending her forefinger, she wipes a single tear from her cheek.
Jack doesn’t know what to say. ‘Of course you are, Meg. You’re beautiful, it’s just that me and .. .’ His voice trails off.
‘It’s only a little present. It’s all a country girl has got to give. Something only you and I will ever know about, Jack. It can be our secret forever.’ Then she adds, ‘Poor Jack, don’t be concerned, it is only little me saying goodbye. I am so very proud of you, you know, volunteering to fight the Germans.’ She bursts into tears and sits on the bed. ‘Jack, you may die, you may never come back,’ she says in a sad little voice. ‘May I not have this at least to remember you by?’
Jack looks down at the distraught Meg. She is achingly beautiful and her snowy breasts heave most enticingly with her distress, for somehow the top four buttons to her blouse have come loose and he can see the warm, firm flesh rising and falling.
He quickly moves over to Meg and puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. ‘Meg, please .. .’ Meg grabs his hand and places it against her eyes so that the wetness of her tears is felt on the back of his hand. Then she kisses his hand and pulls it downward so that it rests on her breast. Jack feels he must surely burst through his moleskins. She places her free hand about Jack’s neck and pulls him down to her so that Jack is forced to go onto his knees in front of her. She looks directly into his eyes, her own shining with her sweet tears. ‘Do you hate me so much, Jack, that you would humiliate me so?’ She sobs and throws herself at him, embracing him, whimpering against his chest.
Jack can contain himself no longer. Her heat is against him and he thinks he must die from his desire to take her.
‘No, no, Meg, you are lovely,’ he gasps, overcome with the need to tear her dress from her body.
Meg now smiles brilliantly through her tears and then pushes him gently away and rises from the bed. As she stands upright again her skirt mysteriously drops from her waist to the floor and at the same time the last two buttons on her blouse seem to have unfastened so that her breasts now rise high above a straining bodice, half of one nipple showing pink and sublime.