'HOME…'
So much heartfelt satisfaction in Johnny's voice. And his grin was pure pleasure.
They were still in the air, flying over the woolshed, the name of the sheep station—Gundamurra—painted in large letters on its roof.
Coming home was all Johnny had talked about ever since they'd woken up in the hotel room this morning. No mention of the concert, nor its traumatic aftermath. It was clear to Megan that he was determined on letting it all go, blocking it out. She wasn't sure if that was right for him, but she wasn't about to cast shadows on the happy twinkle in his eyes.
She grinned back. 'You've still got to get this plane down safely.'
He laughed and brought it in on the airstrip, a perfect landing but for the inevitable bumps along the ground. 'Need to get this strip graded again,' he remarked as he switched off the engine.
Which meant he'd hire a grader in the coming weeks, cost no object to Johnny. Megan didn't worry about what he spent on the property anymore. As long as he was happy.
'Another thing,' he said as they went about disembarking. 'I'm going to buy a helicopter. Emily can teach me how to fly it.'
'Why do you want a helicopter?'
'It would be more handy for checking out the property than a plane. It can land anywhere. And who knows? The Big Wet might come next year and break the drought. It could be raining in January when the baby is due and I want to be able to get you out in time. If the airstrip turns into a bog, we'll need a helicopter.'
She laughed, pleased that he was looking ahead, making plans. 'By all means get yourself a helicopter. And I'm sure Emily will be delighted to give you lessons.'
'Right! Now for Evelyn's superb carrot cake,' he said with relish.
Of course, Evelyn had it ready for him.
And Johnny was in such high good humour he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek to thank her for it. 'I love being in your kitchen, Evelyn,' he declared, sitting down at the table, ready to enjoy his afternoon tea. 'This is where I really feel I'm home.'
'Oh, go on with you, Mr Johnny.' She was bridling with pleasure, beaming love right back at him. 'You're just proving the old adage—the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Here you're served with good home-cooking instead of all that hotel stuff.'
'Only you, Evelyn, can make a cake like this,' he declared, hoeing into the huge slice in front of him.
'Well, that's nice to know. Now tell me how the concert went?'
He shrugged. 'Did its job. Full house. Lots of money for drought relief.'
Evelyn sighed her frustration at what was to her a totally inadequate report. She shot an appealing look at Megan, who knew where Johnny's dismissive attitude was coming from. Nevertheless, it was measly fare for his greatest fan. Impulsively she jumped into the task of giving satisfaction.
'He was wonderful, Evelyn. He had the whole audience—thousands of them—in his hands. The way he used his voice was just magic. They didn't want to let him go when the concert ended, standing up and cheering and clapping. I've never heard anything like it. Absolutely amazing!'
Her warm appreciation of his performance seemed to startle Johnny, jerking his head towards her, but he frowned, too, as though he didn't want to hear it.
'So they should want more,' Evelyn happily declared. 'He's the best singer I've ever heard.'
'Well, they can buy my music anytime they like,' Johnny said carelessly, then switched to a charming smile. 'You will always have it free, Evelyn. Now please…we're hanging out for news of what's been happening here while we've been away.'
Over and done with, Megan thought. And Johnny kept it that way.
The weeks rolled on towards Christmas. Megan became more heavily pregnant. Johnny bought his helicopter and learnt to fly it. He took over more of the running of Gundamurra, insisting that she had to slow down and rest, look after herself and the baby.
Quite frequently e-mails came in from his agent who was based in Los Angeles. Johnny read them, answered them, deleted them. He did not discuss them with her, didn't even refer to them. Which Megan found disturbing. The block-out on his career seemed too extreme.
Eventually she felt driven to question him. 'All these e- mails…are you getting offers for work, Johnny?'
'Nothing I want to take up, Megan. I'm finished with all that.' He smiled with grim irony. 'Sooner or later my agent will believe me.'
She let that ride, leaving the decision completely up to him, though she wondered if he would remain content with their life here. Times changed. Currently he was looking forward to being a father, but later down the track…
He shrugged and added, 'Most of the messages are about outstanding business which will roll on for years. Contracts with recording companies and sponsors running out, being re-signed…stuff like that. Nothing for you to worry about.'
'I'm not worried.'
'Good!' He smiled. 'I don't want you to be. I like my life just the way it is, right here with you.'
He meant it and she accepted it, not raising the issue again.
Johnny invited their extended family home for Christmas and they all came. Tradition was upheld with the Christmas Eve party held around the homestead quadrangle, everyone who worked and lived on Gundamurra attending. Johnny took on the role of Santa Claus, giving out gifts he'd bought personally and piled under the Christmas tree with almost childish delight, anticipating the surprise and pleasure they'd give when unwrapped.
It made Megan wonder how many miserable Christmases he'd spent as a boy. Empty times. Lonely times. And she thought how much her father's understanding had encompassed when he'd opened his heart and mind and home to his three bad boys, turning their lives around, teaching them there were different paths to take—paths far more rewarding to their true inner selves.
'If anyone can fill Mr Patrick's shoes, it's Mr Johnny,' Evelyn whispered to Megan, almost bursting with pride in her personal favourite, watching him charm the children with 'Ho-ho-hos' as he made much of selecting just the right gift for them.
But would filling those huge shoes answer what Johnny truly wanted for himself?
Megan remembered what Mitch had said when she'd been so angry over the terms of her father's will, carrying on about Johnny being a pop-star—
You've just pasted a label on the man which I knowto be very superficial, Megan. Johnny has not yet reached the fulfilment of the person he is.
And yes, it had been a superficial label, meanly judged.
Her father, Mitch and Ric had known Johnny far more deeply. She was still learning about the person he was, knew that fatherhood would be something big in his life, but where true fulfilment lay for him, she didn't know. Perhaps he didn't know himself yet. She could only hope it lay in their life at Gundamurra.