Man Drought by Rachael Johns

ready to have words with her.’
    He paused while Cal delivered two mugs filled with steaming coffee to the table. Imogen thanked her and then wrapped her hands around the mug, eager to hear more. Jenna had called her a soppy, hopeless romantic on more than one occasion, and there was more than a little truth to the accusation.
    While Imogen sipped, Charlie continued, almost as if he were reminiscing to himself.
    ‘I arrived at the homestead to find Elsie bent over the rear end of a sheep, her hands stuck up its backside, tugging away like the animal had eaten a gold nugget and she needed to pull it out.’
    Imogen giggled at Charlie’s description.
    ‘It was a pet sheep, apparently.’ He shook his head. ‘Somehow it had gotten in with the rams and gotten itself pregnant. Elsie’s little sisters were running back and forth from the house bringing cold cloths to lie upon the ewe’s head. It was as bizarre a sight as ever I’d seen. Elsie was talking to the old girl like she was a human in labour.
    ‘Well, I just stood there like a stunned mullet – I’d completely forgotten why I’d come and was mesmerised by the first birth I’d ever been privy to. After a while, she looked up, sweat covering her rosy-cheeked face. She blew some tearaway hair out of her eyes and glared at me. “If you’re going to stand there staring, the least you could do is lend a hand. Lord knows there aren’t many uses for a man, but this baby’s stuck and I could do with a bit of strength to pull her out.”‘ Charlie chuckled to himself.
    Imogen could almost guess what was coming next.
    ‘We got it out too,’ Charlie said, pride shining through his words, even all these years later. ‘Elsie checked the wee lamb over and when she was satisfied it was breathing, she laid it down next to its mother. Then she turned back to me, placed her bloodstained hands against my clean-shirted arms, leaned forward and kissed me. On the lips!’
    Charlie turned the colour of a fire engine, all the way up his sideburns.
    ‘Ooh,’ said Imogen, tickled by the thought. She couldn’t imagine his grandson ever getting so flustered over a woman, especially not decades after the event.
    ‘And when she’d finished – kissing me, that is – she looked right into my eyes and said, “Well, I may have just found another good use for a man.” Then she kissed me again.’
    Imogen pressed her hand against her heart. ‘So it was love at first kiss, then?’
    ‘Aye, it definitely was.’ Charlie sighed. ‘Once I’d experienced the magic of those lips, nothing else seemed to matter anymore. And I certainly didn’t want any other man laying a claim on her.’
    He dug his wallet out of his pocket and opened it to a black-and-white photo of the most naturally beautiful woman Imogen had ever seen. She was incredibly tall and wiry, and freckles spattered her cheeks, which she could tell, despite the lack of colour in the photo, were as rosy as beetroots. Imogen had never seen the resemblance between Gibson and Charlie and now she understood why. Gibson was the image of his grandmother – same eyes, same wry smile, even the same stance.
    ‘I haven’t got many, but this one’s my favourite.’
    Imogen took her time to admire the photo. ‘She’s beautiful.’
    She thought of her photos of Jamie – placed strategically throughout her apartment so she’d never have to go more than a few hours without seeing him. Her eyes stung with threatened tears. Would she be the same as Charlie when she was in her eighties? Fifty years was a very long time to be alone.
    She had to think of something else to say before she became a blubbering mess. ‘So, when did you give up teaching?’
    Charlie had already told her he spent most of his adult years on the family crop and sheep farm, only moving into town a fewyears back when the homestead grew too small – whatever that meant.
    ‘I handed in my notice within two weeks of Elsie’s kiss. After that I worked with