Theresa is 16, Paul is 14 years old.

"LA LA la la LA lahhhhhh" Terri sung the scales as her mother listened carefully.

They were both seated side by side at the piano. The air was warm, the sun outside beat down drying the fodder and every piece of moisture from the ground.. and the ceiling fan ticked as it swung slowly around and around above them.

Tick.......... Tick........... Tick.........

"Territry!!" Daddy yelled, he had a holler that you could hear for miles around and if he coo-ee'd... Well cover your ears people 'cause it could travel a mighty long distance more!

"Theresa's all mine this afternoon! Don't you go absconding with her to do your dirty work again!" Lorraine smiled indulgently but was miffed. Finally, her daughter was being...., well..., being a daughter. A young lady. Perhaps refinement around the corner... instead of cow dung, calf roping and branding irons.

One could only hope.

She was playing the piano and interested in music and she was singing, it was an absolute godsend, and her father...

All her father saw was a jackaroo, a glorified free farmhand that did his bidding without grumble, curse nor stomp of stubborn feet. The sixteen-year-old loved her father to bits, certainly a daddy's girl was their Theresa.

"I need the scrub bull flushed out of the undergrowth again. He's sniffing around the purebreds and Terri is our man"

"She's a young woman Phillip Mohin!"

"Not on my watch she isn't. Be the day hell freezes over before a lad gets near my daughter!"

"Daddy!"

"And that Tommy needs to move on down a ways. Camping on that hillock yonder and taking up your evening's with his dream-time stories and spear throwing demonstrations"

"Tommy's no harm daddy he'll be off on his walkabout soon anyway and I fully intend to spend time with him beforehand"

"Oh you do, do you" Phil leaned on the railing looking out over the rear of the property, wondering about young fellas, his daughter and that damn bull in the paddock yonder. He stood tall and turned to look inside the homestead. Glaring, with a hint of a joke in his eye, through the screen door at Theresa "Well if Melvin sees Tommy holding your hand down by the waterhole again you better make sure the boy has a pair of shoes cause I'll be chasing him down with the rifle"

Terri stood by the screen door and stuck her tongue out at her father and he dutifully pretended to catch it through the mesh.

He was being serious and silly at the same time..they jest and carried on and mother rolled her eyes every time. Her dad groused and grumbled about Tommy the aboriginal boy that hung about the property... but did daddy know? She doubted it.. she and Tom had ridden miles and miles that particular day....

She had wanted to know and he wanted to tell and oh, tell he did. Touching and kissing and fingers all over, inside and out and his thing... oh boy that was a shock. She'd seen the horses and the bulls do it and watched the kelpies mate with frenzied movements but Tommy was something else indeed. Smooth as silk and black as night and fit her hand so well. Not as big as a horse's one obviously but girls are nowhere near as big as a mare...

I knew 'bout the semen and had even helped manually inseminate, with the old disused turkey baster, a few butch cows that wouldn't let the herd bull stick 'em.... So not getting that stuff in her was on the Theresa Mohin's TO DON'T list. And anyway, Tommy obliged by pulling it out and keeping her safe-

Her daddy was looking at her funny, was she smiling like a goof? Oops.

"Can I run that bloody bull up toward-"

"Theresa- language!" Lorraine slapped Theresa on the rump, the moleskins she wore thick enough to protect from any real sting from the slap.

"Sorry ... can I run that darn bull till his nuts fall off" Terri grinned evilly at daddy and waited for her mother to grumble indignantly.

"God help this nation with young women talking like that! You see Phillip, this is why you shouldn't have her out mustering and branding and cutting those poor calves with the stockmen"

"Cutting their gonads off ma? !?!" Slipping her Akubra on her head she smirked cheekily at her father as he shook his head. Leaning a hand on the door she pushed the screen open.... Battling to get out, and not let half a million sticky black flies, in.

"I give Up! You hear me! Give. Up!" Lorraine good-heartedly tossed her unanswered pleas as she passed by the doorway. Theresa, or Terri as her father affectionately called her, leant against the timber of the homestead jovially recalcitrant, grinning widely as she peered inside her riding boots for red back spiders. "Give up- Theresa!!"

"Jokes mother, it's actually called castration-"

"..Which is something else I have up my sleeve for Tommy and every other young town bull sniffing in my backyard around my daughter" Daddy inserted that little tibbit like it was actually something to do with the conversation. I guess he was reminding me in his not very subtle-like way to stay well away from the other sex.

"Daddy!"

"Just saying, bullet or knife, it's easy and cheap either way"

"You want me to ride out with you and flush that bull out of your good heifers or not!?"

"Darling girl I trust you but it's them randy young studs I don't. You gotta protect the prime heifer-"

"Mummmm.....! Daddy called me a heifer again!"

*****

"You sent mail to Mary lately?" Dad let his horse 'Cherry' have her head. Reins released and left loose as the two animals, with us aboard, traversed the home paddock. The rollie paper in between his lips, tobacco pouch out and ready, nestled between the horn of the saddle and him.

Cherry was a dark roan mare, as old as me and docile as a pet cat when we meandered along or flighty as a emu when she knew there was work to be done.

Smartest horse about actually, daddy's favourite; Although he would call her nag and say she was one of many, I saw the extra rations she got on the sly and the odd sugar cube that emerged from his pocket that was then popped between her floppy lips caressing his hand for the treat.

"Melvin took the satchel over to the royal flying doctors plane at the Pennicosts place last Tuesday when they picked up Missus P and the baby... Or was it Wednesday? Either or."

"Finish up that leather bracelet strap for her?" Daddy scratched the match on a tree as we rode by and lit his smoke. A big puff floating off into the heavens like he was a train. "She'll like that piece. You made it lovely"

"Awww schuks paaaa"

"Don't come the cheeky with me luv" Daddy's English accent.. which he called scouse,  shone through in those few words, making me wonder what it was like to be within the walls of a family the spoke like that all the time.

Daddy has been around the farmers and jackaroos in Australia a long, long time now and his 'scouse' had leached and thinned through all the years. Only on the odd occasion was I blessed with the sounds of his homeland.

We made the river which was as thin as the hall carpet runner and as shallow as my baths had become. Daddy pulled Cherry up to let her have a slurp of the liquid. Pure gold it was. "Better rain soon"

"Ahuh. Be good if the gorge was closer, wouldn't it. Be right for water then I should think. Can I have a smoke, pretty please dad?"

"One puff. And for heavens sake don't tell your mother" Leaning over I got a wink and the durry. "...Take water from somewhere you're not supposed to can lead to unknown, and perhaps, terrible consequences. Same in life Terri. Like stealing it is. If the Lord wanted us to have water he'd let it rain or open the gorge wider"

"I don't know about the lord, he sure makes it tough on people" Puff puff I go.

Daddy turns back to the slip of water and chats away, the smoke forgotten. "Well perhaps they should pray a little more, hmmm?"

"I guess a little more prayer never hurt."

Daddy lead the way through the thicket of Mulga scrub and I lagged behind.. Puff puff pufferty puff "So... the leather eventually got nice and soft after a bit of work, that's how I made the bracelet so good. Annnddd I managed to stick it in the mail bag right at the last minute thank goodness!"

"One puff I said!!"

"Oops sorry daddy"

"Oops my left boot! Gee girly if mother doesn't smell it on your clothes, she'll see it for sure with that yella colour on your teeth!"

"Goodness, my teeth aren't yellow are they?!?" Slowly, and with as much of an apologetic face as I could possibly muster, I passed the less than half an inch of durry back.

"Not yet they aren't, you shouldn't smoke" Daddy actually managed to look contrite as my eyebrows shot up. He was a silly jovial dad on the whole. I could never ask for better "Come on move that manky nag of yours and let's find that bloody bull"

In a flash my best, most poshest English accent, mocked daddy right back "My mount is not ... manky!" He shook his head with a smile as I leaned down low and wrapped my hand lovingly around her neck and ran my fingers through the long straight mane. I looked after my horses, groomed them daily and now, I talked to my special girl "No you're not. You're a lovely horsey you are. Don't you listen to the old man" Daddy moved Cherry closer and swotted my behind! "Hey no smacking the toshy!"

"Mary will think it's a book mark if you didn't give instructions for use, ya know"

"You think?"

"Packed flat- a diamond shape at the top, the couple of toggles at the bottom. Sure as eggs she will"

"I'll be sure to mail her as soon as I get back... Well as soon as we get back then into Normanton to the post office that is. And when will that be daddy?"

"Give or take six months" The laugh he gave as he pressed Cherry into a fast canter ahead of me was very, very naughty!

********************

Paul pushed the gate open. Struggling with his school bag, a few wildflowers and the fresh bread from the bakery.

"I'm Home!?"

"In here darling"

"Hi mum, how was your day" His fingers released the flowers to her and she smiled happily at him as she took in the white and yellow petals.

"Oh you know, laundry and cooking and babies being birthed. Thank-you for these lovely blooms luv"

"Mrs Holman have her kid then?"

"Yes Missus Holman had her baby James" Lying back down, Mary closed her eyes "I'm not feeling the best pet, can you see if there are some Heinz beans in the cupboard. I know there are eggs and of course. that glorious smelling bread"

"You lay still and nap and I'll make tea alrigh"

"alrighT is how we pronounce the word correctly, James"

"AlrighTTTT mum" Bustling about, searching high and low, Paul found the last tin of beans. She's been tired for months now and he knew deep down something was strange. Something was amiss. But at fourteen you didn't want whatever was upsetting the apple-cart at home to interrupt life. Mucking about, and getting up to mischief with your mates, was the most important thing in life.

"Jamie, can you fetch me that letter"

The letter, the one she kept in her apron.

Mary had quietly brought about the idea of a far-flung cousin, in a far-flung land but she couldn't bring herself to say the actual fact in all so many words... You have a sister.

Sure, she whispered it over them as they slept. And as they grew into strapping handsome lads she hesitated time and time again. The words settled often and dear on the tip of her tongue. But she hesitated and didn't know how to exactly explain just what she and their father had done all those years ago.

How would the boys feel? Would they feel betrayal? Would their eyes lose their shine and confidence in their parents? Because these same parents demand honesty and integrity above all else. And admitting such a life-changing utterance would most definitely be viewed as betrayal of the family's long held belief in honesty.

Theresa, her mothers' namesake. Theresa being her middle name and the name Lorraine and Phillip had blessed her/ their daughter with. It was like a big nod of thanks every time they called the girls name.

And what of Jim?

Jim had closed his eyes every single birthday and wished the child well and the couple sat close together on the bed whenever there was a new piece of correspondence from across the waves. Seeing her grow maybe not through her physical being but through her mind. Scribbles and pencil mistakes making way to passionate missives over three pages long.

Yet Jim never uttered the words to the boys either.

Paul dutifully fetched said envelope and presented it to his mother as she sat tired and pale in the armchair.

Mary nodded weary thanks to Paul and clutched her daughter's words to her chest. And she wished...

Wished she had met her daughter once more, wished she could navigate that fateful life-changing moment with Jim, that wonderful moment when Theresa finally came to call. Wishing to be there to smooth over young Michael's and teenage Paul's' frowns and explain this deed was a blessing to all concerned and that now she, Theresa, was here they were all to be happy and loving. A family.

Paul hummed as he made dinner that evening. His father eventually strolling in the door from work at the cotton exchange nigh on dusk; coat and hat placed neatly on the rack beside the door, a tender kiss and stroke of his palm over mother's pale cheek. Michael rode up to the front door late from his friends place, slung his bicycle down on the path and made his noisy way inside. Within moments, before he got any further than the parlour even, he was marched straight back outside to put the bicycle to rights.

Paul washed up mechanically without even bothering to quarrel with Mike over 'who's turn' it was.

Neatly he placed the tea-towel over the oven rail before fleeing the sombre mood that so often descended over the cosy buttoned down house, as it readied for bed.

Flopping on his mustard yellow bedspread he huffed out a sigh, closed his eyes a few moments and let his over active imagination turn on and spark. He turned everything off, here in his room. All of the worries of the world outside, off. Everything that was trying to tell him all was not as it should be, off.

Pulling his precious book from its hidey-hole under the loose floorboard in his closet he got down to business, writing methodically and always neatly on the faint blue lined exercise books' page. A few lines of prose emerged and grand ideas swirled, thoughts that it would make a nice poem or perhaps, somehow, someday, a song.

The evening stole away his night, cold creeping in from the outside, Liverpool bedding down in the Mersey, and winters, chill. His father knocked and bade goodnight. Then they came... the many, many kisses that rained from her lips. Her love dripping like treacle, thick and syrupy good, over him.

And later that hour he hummed again. Although a tad louder this time... Yes, he hummed louder when he heard her crying in the marital bedroom down the hall, through the thin walls. Crying to Jim as she had done so almost nightly this past week, well after she spent precious minutes wishing the boys pleasant dreams.

After she finished clutching Michael too tight for a regular mother's bedtime hugs and kissing him much too much for a healthy mothers' 'sleep wells'.

Something was wrong but he wouldn't inquire.

He could ignore the problem if it wasn't spoken of.

Wasn't acknowledged.

He could close his eyes.

Be blind.

Go about his day with nary a bother.

Laugh with his mates, without battling tears and silent fears.

Yes, he could do it all, if he was blind.

Glossary:

Akubra- The Akubra is a hat. An Akubra in Australia is what a stetson is to America.

Coo-Eee- A shout used usually to attract attention, find missing people, or indicate one's own location. When done correctly—loudly and shrilly—a call of "cooee" can carry over a considerable distance.

Waterhole- A natural place holding water near or in the line of a stream/river etc.

Durry/Smoke- A cigarette :)

Jackaroo (male)/Jillaroo (female)-  Equal to an American cowboy. Works on a property, or in the States, a ranch.

Kelpie- A dog! A wonderful working dog bred mainly for sheep mustering but used on properties for its great herding abilities.

Mustering- round-up.

Walkabout- In Australian Aboriginal society, Walkabout is a rite of passage during which males undergo a journey during adolescence, typically ages 10 to 16, and live in the wilderness usually alone for a period as long as six months to make the spiritual and traditional transition into manhood.

A/N: Please note I do not mean anything derogatory towards using the words aboriginal or dream-time in this fictional story :)