Chapter 1. The Emptiness Inside
Sally the receptionist/nurse stuck her head round the door and said, "That was the last, Prue." Prudence cleaned down the examination table then washed her hands. A dog with "The Itch," a cat with an aching tooth, a snake that wouldn't eat and a budgerigar in its cage but already dead; that had been the evening's work.
She went out to the reception area where Sally was doing the last of the clearing up.
"You go and get something to eat, Prue," Sally said, "I'll finish up here."
Prue smiled her thanks and envied Sally that she would go home to the vineyard block and to husband Stan and a couple of kids. She went into the kitchen and not feeling like eating she made herself a cup of tea and sat brooding.
It had been a hard day, not because of the work load, but because it was the anniversary. It had been on this day four years ago that Jerry her husband had been killed in a glider accident. Another vet who was a glider enthusiast had taken Jerry up with him; "It's as safe as houses…safer than an international airliner," Jerry had assured her. Some houses were obviously safer than others because a clump of trees, a sudden change in wind direction and pilot misjudgement had ended Jerry's life.
Just two years of marriage to her beloved Jerry and it was all over. That hadn't been the only thing that was over. She had been carrying their child and the shock of Jerry's death had caused her to abort it.
With that double loss Prue's life seemed to come crashing down. The plans they had for their family, the veterinary practice they were going to open together, the deep love they had shared, all gone.
When she came out of hospital Prue had returned to working in Joe's practice. He and his wife had been very compassionate, but Prue's heart wasn't in the work. Had it not been for her neighbours Elise and her husband Frank, Prue thought she might have gone mad.
Those two listened to her repeating the same story again and again as she relived the moment when they had come to tell her of Jerry's death until even she could not speak the words one more time.
After a year of grieving Prue knew she had to make a change in her life - make a new start, but what, where? All around her were reminders of Jerry and the life they had planned. She knew she must get way to some new place, and it was almost pure chance that she decided it was to be Queens Bend on the banks of The Great River.
As a first step in her new life Prue had taken a holiday and had stopped off at the Queens Bend pub for lunch. There she had met Sally and family celebrating her husband's birthday together with friends. Somehow she got drawn into the festivities, but as she was to discover, Queens Bend people were like that. They drew you to them and made you a part of their lives.
It was in discussion with Sally that Prue mentioned she was a vet that led Sally to say. "I trained as a veterinary nurse and I wish we had a vet in Queens Bend. The nearest one is forty kilometres away and he's getting near retirement."
Instead of driving on as she had intended Prue booked into the pub for a couple of nights and in that time looked the little town over.
Queens Bend, as its name implies, is situated on a wide sweeping bend of the river – perhaps one of the most beautiful spots in the whole hundreds of kilometres of the river. The population of the town itself is less than a thousand people, but beyond the town were the vineyard blocks, a couple of wineries, and a bit farther out cereal growing and some mixed farming.
"This is the place," Prue had decided, and had hunted around for a suitable property to establish her practice. She looked at several places and finally settled on a house that was more expensive than she had planned for, but it was close to the river with only a bitumen road and an expanse of tree strewn reserve land between it and the river bank. From the front windows of the house the broad sandbar on the other side of the river could be seen, and often in the evenings kangaroos and wallabies would come down there to drink at the waters edge.
The house served both as residence and the place of her practice and after nearly three years Prue had established herself as "The Vet." Prior to her arrival, and because of the inconvenience of getting to the only other vet, the locals had tended to treat their animals with home remedies that often did more harm than good; now they looked with pride on "Our Vet Prue."
Finishing her tea Prue sighed and rose. She still didn't feel like eating so she wandered out of the house, across the road and stretch of park to stand on the river bank. It was late summer and in the deepening twilight the moon was rising.
She sat on a wooden bench looking out over the river. It was running slowly now, the melted snow from the mountains far upstream having long ceased its influence. She heard the plops of fish leaping to feed on hapless insects, and the screeching of corellas settling down for the night in the cliffs beyond the town.
Farther along the bank from where she sat a couple of houseboats had pulled in and there was laughter and music coming from them. Looking back at the town she saw the lights in the house windows and thought of the families behind those windows, and no doubt there were people in the pub having an evening drink or eating a meal.
The town had embraced her, but for all the friendship she received, there was a dull ache, an emptiness inside her that even in the midst of good company and conviviality would suddenly make itself felt. For even when surrounded with people, it seemed that everyone had someone; a husband, a wife, children; it was almost as if in the town of Queens Bend she was the only one who had no one to go home with, to tuck into bed with, to make love with.
Certainly she had received offers, but in that respect Queens Bend differed little from the rest of humankind. There were predatory males – husbands looking for "a bit on the side." The main difference was, that unlike living in one of the large metropolitan centres, everyone in Queens Bend would know almost before the deed who was climbing into whose bed. In any case Prue did not want that sort of relationship; but what sort of relationship did she want? She did not know the answer to that question, for having loved fully once and lost, she hesitated to risk love again.
It had grown dark and the moon was well up, its light reflecting on the river streaking the water with silver. There was a burst of laughter from one of the houseboats. A vision of her and Jerry making love and then falling asleep in each others arms came to her. A tear ran down her cheek.
She rose and made her way back to the house trying not to think of what had been and what might have been. In the house she went to the kitchen and despite the fact that she still didn't feel particularly hungry she made a sandwich and pouring herself a glass of red wine sat down to consume and meditate. This always seemed to be worst part of the day. It was okay during the working part of the day, people coming and going, animals to be seen and put right; it was the nights that were so often lonely.
She decided on an early night and a read in bed. The house had two stories; the only house in Queens Bend that boasted such lavishness. She made her way upstairs and after a shower clambered naked into her lonely bed.
She was reading for about the third time "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Bronte, with its wild landscape and brooding if often veiled sexual hunger. It was possibly not the best read on this particular day. Heathcliff's cry of desolation, "Cathy…Cathy…" dragged an echo from Prue, "Jerry….Jerry."
She let the book fall and reached into the drawer beside the bed, and taking out her vibrator she plugged it into the wall socket and placing the vibrator head against her clitoris she switched it on. She had it on its lowest setting and she lay relishing its gentle buzzing and soothing massage, so like Jerry's tender touch.
