Kate glanced towards the slow-combustion fire in the corner of the kitchen. The room had been warm when she’d come in to find her dad eating his breakfast.
Laura poked at it, then put some more wood on and strode across to the kettle. Her outfit brought a temporary smile to Kate’s face. She’d obviously been going through drawers of old clothes. She sported worn ugg boots with a hole in one toe revealing a stripy pink sock, a pair of purple trackpants and her old school jumper, topped off by her hair, which, although beginning to fade, was a crown of colour around her face.
“Hell, look what the cat’s dragged in.”
Kate’s smile faded. Bree had let herself in. Of course she was dressed in her standard denim and thick blue jumper; her hair shone and was pulled back in a neat ponytail. She stopped to look from Kate to Laura. “Should have worn my sunglasses.”
Kate sighed, put her head in her hands. She’d peered in the bedroom mirror when she’d slipped on her dressing-gown. She knew how terrible she looked.
“It’s bloody freezing in here.” Bree strode to the fire. “Have you let the fire go out?”
“I’ve just added wood,” Laura said.
“Where’s Dad?” Bree asked.
“Haven’t seen him,” Laura said.
“He’s doing something on the tractor.” Kate lifted her head.
“What?” Bree went to the window.
“I don’t know.” Kate looked at her sisters who both had their backs to her. “I need to tell you something.”
They turned. Bree’s look was expectant, Laura’s full of concern.
“You’re sick, aren’t you?” Laura slid into a chair next to her, and slipped her warm hands over Kate’s. “I knew something was wrong.”
Bree remained standing, arms across her chest. “Let her talk, Laura.”
Kate took a breath. “There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s just that I’m…I’m—”
“Pregnant!” Laura squealed.
“Yes.” Kate breathed out. Another hurdle crossed.
Laura threw her arms around her and pulled her close, then sat back and looked up at Bree. “We’re going to be aunties.”
“So that’s why you haven’t been looking so good?” Bree said.
“I feel like crap.”
“This is so exciting.” Laura bounced up and down on her chair. She was squeezing Kate’s hands so tightly she had to extricate them before they lost circulation. “Have you told Dad?” Laura stopped bouncing, her eyes wide. “What about Mum? Does she know?”
“You two and Dad are the only ones I’ve told.”
Bree sat on the chair on her other side. Her dark eyes locked on Kate. “What about Sean?”
Kate shook her head. “He’s driving interstate. I want to tell him…in person, when he gets back.” She turned to Laura, avoiding Bree’s questioning look. “That’s why you mustn’t say anything. I don’t want him hearing about this from anywhere else.”
“Like Facebook,” Bree said.
Kate grabbed Laura’s hand. “Oh, hell no. Laura, you mustn’t breathe a word…to anyone.”
“Of course I won’t until you tell me I can.” Laura huffed. “I can keep a secret, you know. But why haven’t you told Sean? I thought he’d be the first person you’d tell, even if it was by phone. He loves kids. He’ll be over the moon.”
“Laura, stop,” Bree said.
“What?”
Kate had her head down, scrabbling in her pocket for a tissue. She was trying to hide her tears but Bree had seen them roll down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Laura’s tone was hushed this time.
“I don’t want it.” The words fell from Kate’s mouth in a ragged whisper. She squeezed her eyes shut. Neither of her sisters spoke. The fire whooshed as a log ignited. Something banged outside as the wind picked up and beyond that there was the drone of the tractor.
“Why would you not want a baby? Is there something wrong with it?”
“Shut up, Laura.” Bree’s arm went around Kate’s shoulder and she could no longer keep her sobs silent.
“I’m sorry, Kate.” Laura’s voice was heartbroken.
“It’s all right.” Kate dabbed at her cheeks and blew her nose. “It’s not your fault. I’ve been a bundle of mush since I found out. I’m healthy and pregnant. The doctor sees no reason for concern over the…its health. I have to have a scan in a week or so.”
“It must have been a shock,” Bree said.
“Why?” Laura looked from one to the other.
“Sean and I both have problems…health issues that…nothing serious but…” Kate sniffed. “We didn’t think we’d ever be able to conceive naturally.”
Bree squeezed her shoulders then let her go. “I’ll make you a fresh tea.”
Kate gave her a grateful smile. She’d forgotten the heart-to-heart they’d had one Christmas several years ago. Everyone else had gone to bed but Bree and Kate had stayed up drinking. It wasn’t long after Kate and Sean had agreed no IVF and no babies for them. Kate had told Bree about it and Bree had supported her decision. All on practical grounds, of course. She was of the theory that assisted pregnancies weakened the gene pool, survival of the fittest, she’d said.
Kate looked at Laura who was still watching her, eyes wide with worry. “I know it seems weird to some people but I’ve never wanted to be a mother.”
Laura twirled one lock of purple hair in her fingers. “What about some toast?” Her look was so hopeful Kate nodded.
While they were busy behind her she took some deep breaths, wiped her face again, pulled herself together. Now that she didn’t have to try to hide how she felt, some of the tension that had gripped her since her visit to Dr Strauss abated. Her shoulders relaxed. Bree came back with another cup of tea and coffees for her and Laura. Laura brought assorted condiments and a plate piled high with toast. Kate had a sudden desire for toast smothered in butter and some of her mother’s apricot jam.
“What’s Dad doing out there anyway?” Laura asked.
“I don’t know,” Kate said through a mouthful of toast. “He didn’t say.”
“Tractor’s stopped.” Bree leaned back, listening, and the other two did the same. The back door banged.
“Hell’s teeth.”
They all grinned at each other as their dad burst through the kitchen door. He stopped mid-stride. “What’s going on here?”
“Breakfast,” Laura said. “Want some?”
“It’s nearly morning tea time.” He looked pointedly at his watch.
“It’s Saturday morning,” Bree said. “What’s the rush?”
He paused then held up his muddy hands. “I’ll wash then come and join you for a quick cuppa but you’ll all have to get your skates on. There’s bookwork needs doing this weekend and then we’ve got a tennis court to build.”
He clattered back through the kitchen door, banging it shut behind him, leaving his daughters to gape at each other in surprise.
Natalie leaned on the kitchen bench and peered out the window at the bright day. It was the first windy day since she’d arrived and she knew the red dirt would be creeping its way inside. It did most days anyway but today it had help.
Yesterday she’d been restless after Gabe had left. Knowing he wouldn’t be calling in took the shine off the day but not her decision to stay. She’d tossed aside the book she’d been reading. The main character had decided she must leave her husband and Natalie wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision. The story had unsettled her.
Today she wanted to get out and do something. She glanced around the tidy cabin. She’d cleaned out the fridge and scribbled a list of items she needed. The bed was made and the floor swept. She knew Rosie would do it again. It was her job to clean the cabins and although Natalie had said she was happy to do her own, she always knew when she returned after her morning walk or a swim that Rosie had been there. The coffee and tea were topped up, a chair straightened, the fresh smell of pine in the bathroom.
<
br /> A vehicle rolled to a stop outside.
She opened the back door as Rosie climbed out of her four-wheel drive.
“Hi, Natalie. Sorry I haven’t seen much of you the last few days,” Rosie said. “I’ve been busy. My cousin’s been away and I’ve been doing her jobs as well as mine. She’s back now.” Rosie stopped below the step, looking up at Natalie. “I wondered if you’d like to come to my place for a cuppa?”
Natalie was grateful for the distraction. “I’d love to, thanks.” She pulled the door shut behind her and followed Rosie to her vehicle.
Rosie lived with her mother in a new house on the other edge of the community. Natalie had only seen it from the distance on one of her walks. The map of the community had been clear about where visitors could and couldn’t go and she respected the privacy of the locals who lived here. Her time with Gabe had always been spent out away from the community or at her cabin. She didn’t even know if he had his own place or stayed with someone else when he was here.
They pulled up under a carport that was lined with bright-leafed plants and Natalie followed Rosie past a garden overflowing with lush tropical vegetation and taller frangipani, and then under an arbour of bougainvillea leading to the front door.
“Come in.”
Inside she felt the instant relief of cool, clear air. There was a sleek air conditioner purring from high on the wall, so different to the old machine in her cabin, which was efficient but made a heck of a racket.
“This is lovely,” Natalie said, taking in the simple lines of the modern home.
“Much better than my old house. Especially on days like this. The windows keep most of the dirt out. I hate windy days here. Damn pindan gets into everything.”
“Pindan?”
Rosie cast her arm towards the window. “Red dirt.”
Natalie nodded. “I envy you windows that close snugly. I live in an old farmhouse and nothing fits properly any more. It’s impossible to keep the dust out.”
Rosie brought mugs of tea to the table with milk and sugar. Natalie sat, then noticed the dresser at the end of the table was crowded with photos, mostly of men and boys. Among them she recognised Gabe. He was quite a lot younger but the camera had caught that bright smile of his and a glint of mischief in his eyes. She turned away, surprised by how much she missed him.
“They’re all my family.” Rosie placed a plate of biscuits on the table and came to sit beside her.
“All of them?” Natalie glanced back. There had to be about thirty different photos, if you included those scattered over other surfaces in the room.
Rosie laughed. “I call them my family. I’ve got four kids of my own. Three boys and…” She looked to the photos. “A daughter.”
Natalie followed her gaze and saw an old photo of a much younger Rosie beside a man and four young children, one a baby in her arms.
“The others are my lost boys.” There was pride in Rosie’s voice.
“Lost boys?”
“Gabe was one of them.” Rosie pointed a finger towards his photo, in prime place, middle front of the dresser. “He’s my brother’s boy. He went haywire in his young days. My brother and his wife couldn’t cope. They were living in Broome then but my brother was working away a lot. Gabe got in with a bad crowd. Did some stupid stuff. Drank too much. You know. Could have gone to jail.”
Natalie tried to imagine the Gabe she’d met doing stupid stuff, as Rosie put it.
“I went and got him. Brought him back here. Found him some work.” Rosie’s eyes sparkled. “There’s always something needs painting here. He did all those cabins.” She blew on her tea, took a sip. Looked back at the photos. “I got one of my cousins to take him bush, remind him who he was and where he comes from. He’s doing well for himself these days but he likes to come back and visit. Touch base with home. He was my first success.” She looked lovingly at the photos then a sadness settled on her face. “Some of them couldn’t adjust, didn’t stay, went back to their bad ways. I thought maybe…well. Charlie’s another lost boy. He wasn’t doing so well, wanted to go back, but that kayaking trip we took together was a turning point for him.”
Natalie could relate to that. The kayaking trip had been for her too. She’d been set to leave that first day. The release she’d felt out on the water, her delight in all the sea creatures and the sheer bliss of simply enjoying herself had been her reason to stay.
“Charlie went out again this morning with a group and my cousin Ron. Ron takes kayak tours, and mud crabbing and fishing trips. He said Charlie did a good job.” The smile returned to Rosie’s face.
“I saw mud crabbing on the list of things to do.”
“Would you like to go?”
Natalie screwed up her nose. “I’m not sure about that. Gabe showed me some pictures of the crabs. They’re huge.”
“Monsters.” Rosie tipped her head back and laughed. Natalie took a sip of her tea and the restlessness she’d felt all morning dropped away. Being with Rosie was like being in the company of someone she’d known for years instead of a few days. It reminded her of Brenda and the huge hole her move had left in Natalie’s life. Brenda had been one of a kind.
“Have you got kids?”
Rosie’s question shifted her thoughts to the family she’d run away from.
“Yes, three girls.”
Rosie’s gaze strayed back to the photos.
“You have a daughter, you said.”
“Angela. Now she’s my angel.” Rosie wasn’t looking at Natalie but somewhere into the distance. “She died in a car accident along with her dad.”
“Oh, Rosie.” Natalie felt bad for raising such sad memories. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. We lived in Perth then. My sons were all under ten. I brought them back here. They’ve grown up now. Doing well for themselves. They’re always wanting me to go and live with them but two are in Melbourne and one in Perth. I visit them. I’ve got grandies now but I won’t leave here for long. My mum’s here.” Once more she glanced at the photos. “Coming home healed me when I thought I wouldn’t be able to go on living. There’s something about this place…I don’t want to leave.”
“I can understand why,” Natalie said. “It’s beautiful country.”
“I’m glad you stayed.” Rosie fixed her penetrating gaze on Natalie. “You seem to be a lot happier.”
“How can I not be happy when I’m holidaying in paradise?” Natalie glanced away from Rosie’s stare to the frangipani tree she could see through the window.
“You’re carrying something inside you that’s causing you to hurt.”
“Am I?” Natalie tried to make light of it but didn’t shift her gaze from the tree, still sensing the intensity of Rosie’s look.
“Gabe noticed it too.”
“Did he?”
“You remind me of my lost boys when they first arrive. Some of the things they’ve seen and done shouldn’t happen to kids. Their eyes are like the shutters we use to keep out the wind in cyclone season and then, as this place works its magic, you can see that light begin to shine out from inside them again.”
“They’re lucky to have you.” Natalie risked a look at Rosie, who shrugged.
“All I can do is provide a roof over their head and decent food to eat; it’s being here that makes the difference.” She leaned closer. “I’ve seen that change in you since you first arrived with a face all shut up. Is it being here, or Gabe who’s made the difference?”
Natalie shifted on her chair. The backs of her legs had stuck to the vinyl upholstery in spite of the cool of the air conditioner. Her first reaction was to say ‘the place’ but then she pictured Gabe’s smile and a wave of guilt swept over her.
“Listen to me.” Rosie’s laugh broke the tension. “If my mum was here she’d be telling me to mind my own business. I’ve always been a stickybeak. Poking my nose into things I shouldn’t.”
Natalie stood up. “Thanks for the tea, Rosie. It’s been lovely to cha
t.”
“Any time.” Rosie followed her to the door. “Gabe said you want to stay longer.”
Natalie paused, the door still shut against the windy day outside. “I’m not in a rush to go. I’d better let them know at the office though.”
“You’ll be right. I already told Tika to pencil you in for another week.” Rosie smiled and opened the door. A blast of hot air greeted them and Natalie hurried outside, not wanting to allow the dirt into Rosie’s lovely clean house but Rosie stepped out after her and shut the door.
“Would you like to go fishing?” she said. “I wouldn’t mind some fresh fish again and Charlie’s nagging me to take him.”
“I’d love to.” Natalie was pleased to have something to look forward to.
“I reckon this wind will drop out by early afternoon. We’ll pick you up after lunch.”
Twenty-Six
Bree stood under the back verandah watching the rain pelt down. Not the drifting drizzle that had been taunting them on and off since early May. This was the big, heavy, pounding drops of a soaking rain they badly needed. The tennis court where they’d been working all morning to get rid of the weeds and make it level was a quagmire. The others had all come inside for lunch when the rain started but Bree had gone to the shed to tinker with a bike she’d pulled apart. Now she was greasy and wet.
Tomorrow they’d start seeding the small part of their property they cropped but there’d be no more outside work today which meant she’d have to tackle the BAS. Reluctantly she let herself inside where she was greeted by a burst of hammering, a grunt and then swearing. She swallowed her grin as her dad flapped one hand back and forth in the air and clutched a hammer in the other.
“What are you doing?” The kitchen door had been removed and was now lying along the passage wall.
“Fixing this bloody door so it will shut properly.”
She was surprised at that. Normally with a break in the season he’d be out making sure everything was ready to start seeding. Even though they’d been ready for a month, he’d usually be double-checking.
Kate came out of the bathroom, a towel around her head. “You’re here,” she said. “I’ll just get dressed and dry my hair and we can start on the BAS.”
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