by Annie Seaton
‘You got a point there. So, bacon and eggs or pancakes?’ he asked. ‘I’ve cooked both.’
‘I’ll have both. Thank you for getting up to look after me.’
‘Just doing what I get paid for, love.’
Emlyn left the kitchen and headed over to check her email before she packed up her laptop. A niggle of nerves hitched in her tummy, but she tried to tell herself it was merely hunger. She opened the email program and looked at the six unread emails from David. They were still in bold font because she hadn’t opened them; she’d read them on the trip down.
Clicking on the most recent one, she was surprised to see the brief reply.
I’ll be home tonight. You come to the house. Can’t wait to see you there.
Even though that had been her intention, the tone of the email made her cross, and she was tempted to disagree. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she realised she was overreacting. It made sense for her to go there. They had the future to talk about, and if she stayed it would save booking into a hotel for one night.
Maybe she would stay. It would be a good opportunity to grab some of her stuff and show David that they could have an amicable parting of the ways. It all depended on how he was, and how he’d take the finality of her packing up her clothes.
It would be hard, but it had to be done. Emlyn snapped the laptop closed and slipped it into its case with the cables and the spare battery she’d left charging overnight as Bill put a loaded plate on the table.
‘Breakfast,’ he called over to her.
Emlyn drained her coffee and smiled when she looked at the plateful of food. ‘Looks like I won’t have to eat again today.’
‘I’ve packed a sandwich and some fruit for you, too.’ Bill gestured to the brown paper bag next to her plate.
The move to reach over and hug him was spontaneous. ‘Thank you.’
‘I hope you have a good trip.’ He whistled a happy tune as he went back into the kitchen.
Emlyn did the best she could with the loaded plate, then she pushed it aside and glanced at her watch before she picked up her backpack and laptop bag.
‘Don’t forget your lunch pack,’ Bill said as he came out of the kitchen.
‘I’ve got it.’
He waited while she stowed it in the backpack and reached over and pulled her in for a one-armed hug.
‘I hope it all goes well. And drive safe in this rain.’
‘I will. Thanks, Bill.’
He looked embarrassed as he went back to the kitchen.
Emlyn pushed open the door and waited on the verandah. The rain was still bucketing down; there was no sign of anyone stirring in the other dongas. Last night at dinner, Greg had suggested spending a night in the caves when she returned.
‘Before we start on the new grids. To see how much activity’s in there at night.’
‘Shift work, eh?’ Larry said. ‘Was that in my contract?’
‘We can write it in,’ John said before Emlyn could respond, but Larry had waved his fork in the air.
‘Just joking,’ he said.
What they’d found so far had been encouraging, and she liked the idea of spending a night down there. When she got back from Brisbane, things would be sorted with David—hopefully—and she could move on and focus totally on her work.
Maybe start thinking about her future and where she would settle.
Not Brisbane. There were too many memories there. Emlyn stared at the rain splashing into the overflowing puddles in the driveway as she waited for the heavy shower to pass. She’d always lived there and had stayed in her home town to do her university degree. David was a blow-in; he’d grown up in western Queensland in a small town east of Charleville, where his father was still the local school principal. David had talked about taking her there for a visit, but they’d never got there. With their hectic work schedules, there’d been little time to do the long drive, and every time she’d suggested flying to Charleville for a short visit, David had come up with an excuse.
He’d had taken to city life like a duck to water; when they’d bought their house, he’d wanted it to be close to the city.
‘It’ll give our kids so many opportunities.’ His expression had always been animated when he’d talked about the children they’d planned on having one day. They’d both come from families where they’d had no siblings, and both of them had dreamed of a large family. They’d found the perfect house in Bardon not long after David got his promotion. Close to the city for him, and close to the university for Emlyn. Best of all was the huge backyard with six towering mango trees, a tree house in one of them and a swing from the low branch of another.
‘The owner thought about taking the trees out to sell the house, but—’
The real estate agent had looked at David, whose eyes had widened in horror.
‘God, no. That’s the best thing about the whole house, isn’t it, Em,’ he’d said.
Her heart warmed as she remembered his enthusiasm. They’d lived in that house for five years before the invitation to the wedding had arrived.
After their first disastrous camping trip, and once her dad knew that David was the one for Em, they’d gone camping with her parents every opportunity they could get. In national parks, beside rivers, on top of mountains and on the beach, her father had slowly turned David into a seasoned camper. On the long weekend in October the year before last, they’d packed up the tents and headed down to Northern New South Wales to a fabulous spot that Mum and Dad had been visiting for years. Illaroo campground was on the beach and they could lie in the tent and watch the waves break on the sand only a hundred metres away. It was a wonderful hiatus from their busy lives.
‘Hope we don’t get a tsunami,’ David had said as he’d hammered in the tent pegs on the site closest to the sand.
Emlyn had stood there sipping the coffee that Mum had poured from a thermos and watched children playing on the beach.
‘You are such a wet blanket, Davy boy,’ she said as she smiled at him over the rim of her cup.
‘Speaking of wet blankets,’ he looked skywards with a grin. ‘Is that a rain cloud I spy?’
‘Next time we’ll leave you at home,’ Emlyn said.
David threw down the hammer, jumped up and grabbed her in a close hug, peppering wet kisses over her cheek and neck. ‘Oh, sweetie, you’d miss me too much.’
‘Oh, you are so romantic.’ Emlyn went straight for his ticklish spot, spilling warm coffee over both of them in the process.
‘Speaking of romance, you two,’ her mother said with an indulgent smile—she was well used to the way that Emlyn and David teased each other. ‘Fiona’s getting married. The invitations go out next week. A Valentine’s Day wedding.’
David picked up the hammer and got back to work. ‘Who’s Fiona?’ he asked.
‘One of my cousins from the country,’ Emlyn said, turning to her mother. ‘Is she getting married in Warwick, Mum?’
‘No. They’re flying all the guests to North Stradbroke and putting us up in luxury tents for the night after the wedding.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ Emlyn said.
‘Am I invited?’ David asked with a frown.
‘Of course you are, David,’ Mum said.
He shook his head. ‘This little black duck doesn’t fly anywhere.’
Emlyn closed down the memory as the rain eased. She unlocked the van and put her laptop and backpack on the passenger seat. With a smile, she put the brown paper bag that Bill had handed her within easy reach. Hurrying around to the driver’s side, she ducked her head as the rain began to fall heavily again. It was going to be a wet trip to Townsville. She glanced at her watch, hoping she’d left enough time to get there with the road conditions slowing her down.
‘Fingers crossed,’ she said quietly as she turned on the car and reversed down the circular drive. As she went to turn onto the dirt road, she remembered her phone charge was low and pulled over to plug it into the car charger.
The road was slippery, and Emlyn eased back on the accelerator. The house was deserted as she drove past and she thought how difficult it would be for them working with the cattle out in the rain and mud. At least Gavin was out there helping.
The road widened as she approached the thicket of black tea trees, but the ruts on the edge were overflowing. As she slowed, the engine coughed and the car almost stalled.
Emlyn frowned. John had asked Bill to check the water and the oil in the van, and she knew he’d had a close look at the tyres after the incident with the Troop Carrier. He’d assured her all was good, but she bit her lip as she considered whether to turn around and swap vehicles.
Another glance at her watch decided her to keep going; she’d just have to risk it. The engine seemed to recover—maybe it had been a bad batch of fuel and had cleared itself. She’d fill up at Greenvale and get the mechanic there to have a quick look at the engine if she had time. She was almost to the Kennedy Development Road when the motor stopped dead. She eased the car over to the side of the muddy road and tried to start it, but the engine didn’t even turn over. Reaching for her phone, Emlyn groaned. She hadn’t pushed the charger all the way in and the phone was almost flat.
‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ she cursed as the screen flickered and then went black. There was nothing she could do apart from walk back to the dongas. By the time she swapped cars, she wouldn’t have enough time to drive to get to the airport to catch her two o’clock flight.
Why hadn’t she left earlier? It was too late now to do anything; she wouldn’t make it.
She narrowed her eyes. Unless she walked to the main road and could flag someone down who might have a phone. She could call John and one of them could bring out the other van for her.
Coming to a quick decision, she dug in her backpack for her waterproof jacket and slipped it on before climbing out of the van. Leaving everything in the van, she set off for the road as best she could in the slippery red mud.
It was only a minute or so later when the sound of a car reached her. She stopped and turned, waving her arms at the ute appearing out of the mist.
‘Is that your van back there?’ Gavin peered at her through a half-wound-down window.
‘It is. It died on me. I’m so pleased you came along, Gavin. I’m in a tearing hurry, can I use your phone?’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry. I don’t have one.’
She bit her lip. ‘I’m on the way to the airport and I’m running out of time. Could you give me a lift back to the donga so I can swap cars?’
‘I can do better than that. I can give you a lift to Townsville. I guess that’s the airport you’re going to.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I thought you were helping move the cattle.’
‘I’ve been out there since dawn, but I have to be in Townsville by lunchtime for a meeting at my rifle club.’ He gestured to the other side of the ute. ‘You’re getting soaked. Jump in.’
Emlyn hurried around to the door, but Gavin had reached over and opened before she got there.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘Have you got stuff in the van?’
‘Yes, my bag and computer.’ Emlyn looked at her watch as Gavin did a three-point turn. It was almost seven-thirty. ‘Are you sure you can take me to the airport and get me there by one?’
‘I can. My club isn’t far from there.’
‘Okay then, thanks. I’ll take you up on your offer, I appreciate it.’
Gavin pulled the ute up close to the van and she quickly grabbed her things. The rain had eased slightly, but the clouds loomed dark overhead.
‘Thank you,’ she said as she stowed the two bags at her feet. Wiping a hand over her wet face, she glanced across at him. ‘And thanks again for the offer of a lift. I do appreciate it.’
‘My pleasure.’ He put the car into gear and the back fishtailed as the wheels churned in the mud. ‘We all appreciate the plan you’ve thought up to save the farm. Least I can do.’
Emlyn looked at the window for a moment before she replied. ‘How do you think the road will be?’
‘Fine. But I’m going to take another way out to the main road, because I reckon the creek in the first gully on the main road might be up. You probably wouldn’t have got through, anyway. There’s another road that comes out the other side of Conjuboy. It was good that I found you. I’ve got something to show you, too. You might be able to mention it at your meeting.’
Emlyn frowned. If Gavin had thought the creek was up why had he been going that way? ‘Okay, as long as we’re not late getting to the airport.’ She nodded and reached for her bag. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll take the opportunity to go over my notes while you drive.’
‘No problem, love. Besides, we haven’t got that much to talk about, anyway. I’m not that interested in what you’re doing over there, but Travis seems to think it’s worth pushing on with, apparently.’
She looked across at Gavin; he was different today. He had an air of confidence that she hadn’t seen before, but then she realised it was the first time she’d been alone with him. Maybe he was overshadowed by the other males in the family. ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea?’
‘Shit, no! Insects?’ A snort followed his laughter. ‘It’s almost as bad as Travis and his bloody son’s obsession with the history of the place. It’s all a waste a time, but if it floats your boat, who am I to criticise?’
Emlyn shrugged and tried to be a bit sociable. ‘What do you like to do?’
The smile that crossed his face and the silence that followed made her uncomfortable. They weren’t even off the station and there was five hours to go—at least. Emlyn bit her lip; she’d dealt with much harder things in her life than being stuck in a car with a jerk for a few hours.
‘I’ve got my rifle club and other things I do. Just a bit of this and a bit of that. Have my fingers in a few different things.’ He reached over to open the glove box and Emlyn shrank back as his hand brushed her leg. ‘How about some music?’
‘That’d be good.’ It would mean no more conversation. ‘Oh, and I’ve got some food in my bag, too, so yell out if you get hungry.’
‘I will.’
She frowned at him as he rested his elbow on her knee while he fiddled in the glove box. ‘Do you want me to get a CD out for you?’
‘Yeah. There’s a Bloodhound Gang one in there. Do you like them?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t heard of them.’
Gavin inserted the CD and turned the volume up loud. Emlyn reached forwards and pulled out her laptop as the cabin was filled with a heavy guitar riff.
‘Can you work with the music up high? There’re a couple of songs you’ll like here.’ His loud laugh filled the cabin. ‘A bit of biology in them.’
Emlyn turned on her laptop, aware that Gavin was glancing at her frequently. Her discomfort increased as the lewd lyrics got louder.
Charming. She set her lips and logged on.
‘You got one of those dongles?’ he asked over the music as he nodded at the computer. ‘Mobile internet for watching movies?’
‘No. I’m just working on some data files and then some more work on the sponsorship application.’ She put her head back down and focused on opening the program. ‘I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.’
‘Shame,’ he said. ‘I could have suggested some good movies.’
Emlyn lifted her head and regarded him coldly. ‘I’m in the mood for work. I appreciate the lift, but I’d be grateful if you’d let me get on with it.’
‘Oh, la de da. Too good for some cow cockies from the bush, hey, Doc?’ Gavin changed back a gear and Emlyn looked through the windscreen. The terrain was familiar and she realised they were on the road that led to the back gate. They were heading west not east.
A little ripple of anxiety added to the discomfort that had settled in her chest. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I told you I’ve got something to show you. Might make all the difference to
your application.’
‘There’s not time. I have to be at the airport by one.’
‘Yeah, I know, you already said.’
‘I can’t afford to be late. I have to check into my flight.’
‘Don’t stress. We’ve got plenty of time. This is a shortcut to the main road.’ He reached over and turned off the music. ‘You’ll be really interested in this. How far do you think you’ll get along the tubes?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I was just wondering whether you think you’ll get this far.’
‘Why? Do you think there’s something there that will interest us?’
‘Don’t stress,’ he muttered as the car slowed. ‘There’s no need to stress.’
Emlyn took a breath as uneasiness trickled down her spine. She knew that she’d been oversensitive with people over the past few months, but there was something about Gavin’s behaviour that unnerved her.
She stretched back in the seat and reached into her pocket, wrapping her fingers around her phone. Gavin glanced across at her; his mouth was set, and as he started to slow the car down and turn onto another track where the trees encroached on the narrow dirt road, Emlyn pulled out her phone, hoping there might still be a smidgeon of charge in it.
‘What are you doing?’ he said.
‘I’m just seeing what time it is.’ She kept her voice brisk.
‘You just looked at your watch.’
‘I’m checking my flight times,’ she said, relieved when the screen came on. Opening up a new text message, she started to type.
I’m in a car with Gavin and we are heading west.
Bloody hell. Who could she send it to?
‘No point trying to send a text, Doc. Way out of service here.’
‘I was just confirming my flight.’
‘Were you?’ He raised his eyebrows.
The ute travelled along a narrow track. To the right was a high hill covered in the telltale green vegetation that covered the tubes they were working in at the glade.
Maybe I’m worrying for nothing.
But all Emlyn’s senses were on high alert. Mum had called it her ‘spidey sense’ and right now it was screaming at her to get out of the car.