Chapter 3 #3
Again, Spencer felt out of his depth amid the constantly shifting sea of emotions, the scrutiny of the film crew, the pressure to uphold his standards when each lady was offering her affection in this strange, fast-tracked relationship.
Emily stepped towards him, gently tugged his crossed arms apart and burrowed into his chest. And while he wasn’t keen on the overt affection Ginger and Hope had tried to offer, he couldn’t stand there like a robot when one of the women was upset, or when Emily was offering him the same support.
Is this for real or for show? Why was he finding it so hard to discern between the two?
Emily snuggled into his chest. ‘This seems a lot less brutal when you’re watching it happen to someone else on TV, in the comfort of your own lounge room.
The start of the week, and the aftermath of those farewell dinners, is the worst. I was pretty sure you weren’t sending me home Sunday, but there’s always that “what if?” moment.
And after yesterday’s ridiculous four-wheel drive challenge, I’m about cooked. ’
Spencer knew exactly how she felt. He was maxed out trying to juggle the full house. He’d chosen five confident, capable and hard-working ladies, but living with them, and the dynamic nature of the experiment, had been a steep learning curve.
Hope—the first to leave—had been lovely but full-on and she’d failed to mention she was scared of sheep until the day they were filming in the sheep yards, while Ginger had a habit of sharing too much information about previous lovers and medical dramas, especially after too many drinks.
Which left Kyra, Madeleine and Emily as the last three ladies in this crazy experiment …
Emily burrowed her hands into the pockets of his bee suit and for the first time since they’d begun filming, Spencer didn’t step away.
‘You sure floored it across the muddy obstacle course,’ he said, turning his thoughts to the four-wheel-drive challenge. ‘Addison looked like she was about to lose her breakfast when you pulled up, and I’m pretty sure you went even faster with me in the passenger seat.’
‘Guilty as charged.’ She laughed. ‘I shouldn’t have been showing off, given the other girls are as likely to become rally car drivers as they are agronomists, but I’ve tackled a few boggy paddocks over the years. I’m not scared of getting my hands—or my ute—dirty.
‘Maybe we can call off the whole thing, and you can choose me now, put everyone else out of their misery and banish the film crews. I’ve seen it done on previous seasons,’ she said.
‘Maybe.’ He chuckled.
Emily tilted her face up to him, her blue eyes bright. A tentative smile crossed her lips. ‘Do you mean that?’
Do I? Spencer suddenly craved his rowdy classroom. Restoring order to a room full of teenagers was easier than keeping track of his flip-flopping emotions.
He looked up, the moment lost when he saw two cameras filming from different directions and Dana shaking her head, frowning as she noted something down on her clipboard.
Of course they were listening in. When weren’t they?
‘Sorry kiddos,’ Dana said. ‘No can do. We’ve already lost a farmer this season and there’re a few legal issues with a frontrunner in the Tassie bloke’s circle.
Get cosy, have as many of those little deep and meaningfuls as you like, but this train is running all the way to the station.
Strap in and enjoy the ride. And put those ruddy boots on, Emily, then let’s get this filming wrapped before my fingertips freeze off! ’
Dana consulted her notepad again, murmured more instructions into the microphone attached to her earpiece, then glanced at Spencer.
‘How about we film some B-roll while we’re waiting. Make-up, over here!’
Within moments, a camera tripod was locked into position and the sound guy was holding the fluffy microphone above Spencer’s head.
Spencer held his breath as the make-up artist dusted powder over his face.
‘Try not to squint, babe.’
‘Wouldn’t want the make-up settling into my wrinkles and everyone thinking I’m the wrong side of forty-five, right?’
‘Don’t look so worried, you’re a handsome devil.’ She grinned, checking the time. ‘They’re harder on poor Emily, being the oldest female farmer on the show. I mean, forty’s kinda old, but it’s not totes old old, you know?’
It was an effort not to groan. Most of the crew members looked as young as his niece and nephew, and he’d heard the make-up artist, with her lip piercings and leather jeans, sticking up for Team Hawkins after another handler asked her what it was like wrangling ‘the oldies’.
‘I heard Kymmy, the contestant with Farmer Matt in Emu Park, put in a request for a do-over if things fizzle out between you and your contestants. Not that they will, those ladies are mad about you.’ The make-up artist snapped her palette shut.
So why did it still feel so staged? And what was keeping lunch? He wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of late nights and an empty stomach. Why on earth had he invited this chaos into his life?
Because it was time to get back out there again.
Because he was this far through the painstaking process of on-camera dates and challenges, and only an idiot would give up this close to the end.
Because Belle had been fond of the show, and Ian and Louisa had encouraged him to do it, and after his role in their daughter’s death, he couldn’t deny them that.
Spencer was so deep in his spiralling, he missed Dana’s question and had to ask the producer to repeat it.
‘Can you tell us why you love farming and beekeeping?’
They’d danced around this question before, and he sensed the producers wanted him to say he’d been fascinated by bees from a young age, or that he was happiest when he was checking the hives or collecting honey, but that had been Belle and Ian’s story, not his.
‘Bees are a key part of the property, but my real passion’s teaching, and setting country kids up with an education that’s as good as, if not better than, their city counterparts. I’ve got—’
‘Cut, cut,’ said the producer, shaking her head.
‘This show is called Love on the Land, Spencer, not Teacher Wants a Wife. Let’s go over it again: we want bottle-fed lambs and farm machinery, a little more about the pastures and the farming-specific challenges, mate.
Not that we don’t care about school kids, of course they’re the future of our food, our fibres, but let’s have a little less of this “side hustle” talk and more focus on our target market.
’ Dana clicked her fingers at the camera guy and nodded again, a strained smile on her face.
‘Take two, from the top. Remember, our viewers want an escape to the country.’
Spencer looked across the paddock. After the hubbub of filming, he was ready for his own escape.
While the Limestone Coast region was famous for vineyards, award-winning wineries and beaches to the south, the short drive between Penwarra and South Giddi Giddi was lined with trees, and as well as grapevines, the large paddocks were full of sheep, cattle and crops.
It was profitable land, and though Clem was only a hobby farmer at best, with her tiny sunflower crop, she knew these properties were the envy of many drought-stricken farmers in the north of the state.
She slowed as a crumbling limestone and paddock-rock cottage, similar to the ruins near Sunny Cross, came into view. Clem had relied on Google Maps for directions yesterday, but her memory served her just fine today with the second food delivery.
She veered right at the next fork in the road, muted the radio and tuned in to the humming insects and rustling trees.
She turned at the mailbox and was soon in front of the two-storey red brick home with manicured lawns, hedges leading to the front entrance and wide bullnose verandahs encircling both levels.
‘Over here.’ Clem saw Spencer beside the rotunda, standing on a stepladder that looked too rickety to hold her weight, let alone his.
What was it about him that made heat run through her body? She tucked her dark hair behind her ears, feeling her earrings jangle against her wrist, and returned his wave.
‘Fairy lights, huh? Did you just happen to have them lying around, or do the producers buy them in bulk for all the farmers?’
Two spots of warmth appeared on his cheeks, though as she got closer she could see the tightness of his smile and the weariness in his grey eyes. Perhaps the last few weeks hadn’t been all canoodling over fluffy rescue lambs and fairy-lit dinners?
‘Sorry, that was—’ She waved a hand as he descended the ladder.
She wasn’t even sure what she’d intended it to be—A low blow? A snarky joke?—but she’d regretted it, whatever it was, as soon as she’d seen the hurt cross his face. What was it about Spencer Hawkins that made her blurt out random things?
‘Where would you like the food?’
‘I thought yesterday’s lunch was a distinct upgrade—was that you too?’
‘Thanks, it sure was.’ Clem opened the boot of the Jeep, her heart swelling under the praise. She passed him the first two boxes. ‘Exploding sewerage pipe at Brew Haven,’ she said, trying to keep the glee from her voice. ‘You didn’t notice the Sunny Cross Cafe branding on yesterday’s boxes?’
Was he that preoccupied with his harem of ladies that he’d only registered the change of quality, nothing more?
‘By the time I got back from filming at the beehives, there were only a few leftovers on a plate. It’s the quick or the dead around here when it comes to food,’ he said. She noticed him peering at the food longingly.
‘Nice place,’ she said, gesturing to the pond with its multilevel water feature and giant waterlily pads.
She’d noticed the rotunda when she’d delivered yesterday’s catering, but today the outdoor dining table was set with candles, fresh flowers and pale blue crockery.
‘I can only imagine poor North Giddi Giddi has a lot to live up to?’
He laughed, shaking his head. ‘North Giddi Giddi is my mother-in-law’s family farm in Canada.’
‘Ah, Louisa and Ian. Two of my favourite regulars.’ She looked back at his home. It was big alright, but from what she could see, it was the only residence on the property.
‘Do you all live in the same house?’ Clem’s mind skipped ahead. Was that why he was still single? She grabbed a box of savouries, eager to do something with her hands. ‘Not that it’s any of my business.’
She started walking towards the rotunda before remembering it was set for two, and from yesterday’s catering brief, she knew the vegan catering was for the crew. She eyed the fairy lights, candles and fluffy throw cushions adorning the rotunda. Definitely a romantic dinner planned for that space.
‘Ian and Louisa’s place is on the western side of the property, three kilometres from here,’ said Spencer, leading the way to the deck.
‘Where’s everyone now, though? I thought the place would be crawling with camera crews and harried-looking minions, rushing to do the bidding of the director.’
‘They’re filming the ladies bake biscuits with Louisa and my sister, Addison.
I couldn’t bear to watch, not after they got into a hearty debate about the best way to crack eggs.
Way too many cooks in the kitchen for me, not to mention the cameras and crew.
Thought I’d tackle a few outside jobs instead. ’
‘I know where I’d rather be too. Though it beats me why they’re buying in food when you’ve obviously got some good cooks among your ladies. I’ve seen you turn sausages too, and Mia said you were a handy chef.’
Spencer paused on the steps, resting an elbow against the deck’s timber rail.
‘Mia thinks anyone who can avoid burning meat pies in an oven is amazing. Jeff gives us blokes a bad name in the culinary department, so her standards aren’t especially high.
Plus, the camera crew’s ultra-fussy. After a food poisoning incident a few seasons back, they steer clear of anything that wasn’t prepared in a commercial kitchen. ’
Clem set down the food boxes on a wicker dining table, spotting three slender blonde women through the generous kitchen window.
It turned out Spencer Hawkins had a type, and it was the polar opposite of the curvaceous brunette staring back at her, reflected in the glass.