The Roadhouse

by Kerry McGinnis

  I had to smile at that. ‘That’s enough, isn’t it? It’s nothing really, Mike. I was just wishing that I was more certain about things, and life in general. Braver, I guess, than I am. Like Ute. Can you see me crossing half the world on a solo holiday just to teach a man a lesson? Which is more or less what she’s done. And then taking all this’ – I waved a hand to encompass the broad reach of the night, and the emptiness of the land beyond the garden – ‘in her stride as if it was no more than a park in the Hague? If they have room enough for parks there.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed, ‘but I can see a young girl with her heart and faith shattered, who left home for a distant city, which must have seemed every bit as formidable a challenge as another country given her background, and who made a go of it there. That takes courage, Charlie. And you stuck it out, you supported yourself, followed your dream. What makes you think any of us operate on certainty, anyway?’

  ‘Annabelle did,’ I said. ‘She never had the slightest doubt. What she wanted she took.’

  He snorted. ‘There’s a difference. Where would society be if we all acted like that?’ He squeezed my hand. ‘You shouldn’t doubt yourself. I think you’re amazing, Charlie. The most amazing girl I’ve ever met.’

  ‘You do?’ I goggled at him and very deliberately he grounded his coffee cup, took my chin in his hand to tilt up my face, and kissed me.

  ‘That’s to prove it,’ he said. In the shadows his half-lit face gazed down at mine, wearing a look that was part quizzical, part apprehensive. ‘Well, are you going to sock me now, and add me to the nitwit queue?’

  ‘No,’ I said and, reaching up to cup his face in my hands, I kissed him back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was up early the following morning, humming over the task of making sandwiches and filling the thermoses. I had packed a bag for Mum the previous night, breaking off every now and then to relive that instant as Mike’s lips met mine. We had talked and touched and made plans for today, and when he finally drove off after the rest had departed, he had kissed me again lingeringly, in a way that left me elated and unsettled until sleep had claimed me.

  ‘I’ll be back tonight,’ I told my two co-workers as I scrambled through breakfast, burning my tongue in my haste to be gone. ‘I’d take the cash if the banks were open, but it’ll just have to wait until we bring Mum home.’ Since the attempted robbery years before, the safe was emptied on a regular basis, leaving only a couple of hundred dollars for daily transactions. Mum hadn’t installed an EFTPOS line and wouldn’t, she had said, until the business doubled. Nobody was holding their breath for that to occur, so the calico bags of notes and coins continued to be ferried into the Alice whenever someone visited.

  ‘You watch yerself,’ Bob growled. ‘Plenty of idiots be’ind the wheel these days. Drive like maniacs, some of ’em.’

  ‘I’ll be careful. I’ve got water, tools, and tucker. And I’m sure that Mike can change a tyre. I’ll be fine, Bob.’

  ‘You have the beautiful day, Charlie.’ Ute winked at me. ‘A nice drive in the country, with plenty of stops, yes? Is good as concert or museum visit.’

  I grinned at her. ‘Shame Eric can’t take you on one too.’

  She shrugged. ‘I am working, but he come and we talk. Who knows? Perhaps I make him blinis. We will see.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad everyone’s happy,’ Bob growled.

  ‘Ah, lighten up, you old grumble-guts.’ I surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m off. Don’t worry if I’m a bit late home.’ I grabbed the lunches and headed out to the station wagon, which was fuelled and waiting in the shed.

  It was a beautiful morning, chilly enough for a jumper and the woollen gloves I’d pulled on. The crisp air made a pale-blue backdrop for the lavender ranges, and a light breeze shivered the dun and olive shades of scrub and bush. The first of the men were straggling up from the camp for their slightly later Sunday breakfasts, their dusty yellow machines that would sit silent all day drawn up like sleeping monsters in the cleared bay beside the camp.

  I sped past to the turn-off and a short distance west down the highway, slowing when I reached the thin track that speared away south to the new Garnet outstation. Mike was waiting beneath a mulga tree, his lean form propped against the dark trunk. He wore a fleece-lined jacket over jeans and shirt and his boots had been polished. He grinned from beneath his Akubra, pulling the door open as I stopped beside him.

  ‘Morning, Charlie. How do you manage to look so pretty this early in the day?’

  I felt myself blush. ‘Do I? Thank you, Mike. Where’s your vehicle?’

  ‘Back in the mulga a bit, outta sight. I could wish I had a dog to leave with it, but it should be safe enough.’

  ‘Like Bob’s Jasper,’ I agreed. ‘He’d tear the leg off anyone who came near it.’ I giggled suddenly. ‘Bit like his master really. But a different story once you get to know him.’

  ‘The man or the dog?’

  ‘Both. I guess in all the ways that mattered Bob was more like a father to me than my own dad.’ I pondered the matter as I drove back onto the road. ‘It was always him I went to for company, or comfort, or help – a broken toy, a flat bike tyre, a sick pet. Dad wouldn’t be bothered, or he’d tell you he’d do it later – only he never would – and Mum was always busy. Whenever I felt put upon, Bob was there for me. I suppose, in a way, he was my best friend till I went off to boarding school. What about you? Were you ever lonely as a kid?’

  ‘Ah, well, I had my brothers. We’re all pretty good mates. I’m probably closest to Jeff. Dan’s five years younger – that’s quite a gap when you’re a kid, plus he’s got town interests. Being a stockie, Jeff’s always out on the stations. We meet up for a beer, see each other at Christmas – it’s that sort of arrangement. Did you not get on with Annabelle, then, even when you were little?’

  ‘No.’ I flicked him a look. ‘There’s only one queen bee to a colony and she was it. I read somewhere that the first queen to hatch in a hive stings the rest to death while they’re still in their cells. Annabelle would’ve approved of their actions, take my word for it.’

  ‘Ah.’ His brows rose in a query. ‘No word back from the coppers on how the investigation’s going?’

  I shook my head. ‘But, talking to Mum the other day, I got to wondering if Paul – Annabelle’s partner in the crime – might’ve killed her because she was a witness to the murder? Or that she was about to run out on him and he found out. The money she wanted – it could’ve been so she could leave the country.’

  ‘It’s possible,’ he conceded. ‘Anyway, it’s much too nice a day to waste on mysteries we can’t solve. Tell me what you’ve got planned.’

  ‘To organise something for Mum. I want a greeter, transport, accommodation, possibly a nurse to look in on her every other day … Difficult to do on a Sunday, but it’s the only time I have.’

  ‘The accommodation might be a problem, but I meant more personal stuff, Charlie. Like where should we have smoko, and which park you’d like to eat lunch in, and when do I get to kiss you again?’

  My heart repeated its little flip but I said sternly, ‘Certainly not while I’m driving. Let’s wait for smoko time to come.’

  ‘So, then?’

  ‘I’ll think about it. You seem to have a very demanding nature, Mr Webb.’

  ‘Only with important stuff,’ he deadpanned, adding, ‘I love that little smile of yours, Charlie.’ His brown eyes crinkled at the corners and my heart flip-flopped like a teenage girl’s.

  In the end we just pulled off the road and uncapped the smoko thermos in the shade of a beefwood for our cuppa. It wasn’t a long stop; we couldn’t afford the time. The morning had warmed up and we shed coats and gloves before continuing.

  ‘You want me to spell you?’ Mike asked after our break and I was glad to let him drive. It gave me the chance to curl sideways in my seat and watch him. The sight of his clear-cut profile framed by the side window and his strong brown ha
nds on the wheel made something within me purr like a contented cat. I liked the way the dark hair curled about his ear (it had a moderate-sized lobe and lay flat against his head) and the strong line of his jaw. There was a tiny scar on the side of his chin, the width of my smallest fingernail, and curved in a similar arc.

  ‘What happened there?’ I leant in to touch it lightly.

  ‘That?’ He fingered the skin. ‘That was Jeff’s fault. He threw a gun at me.’

  ‘A gun?’

  ‘A cap gun. It was the foresight that cut me.’ Seeing my look, he laughed. ‘It wasn’t the OK Corral or anything, Charlie. I was six and we were fighting over the gun, and in the end he chucked it at me.’ A glint of chrome and glass from within the dust cloud ahead had him braking to pull the passenger-side wheels half into the table drain as the approaching road train powered past. When the dust had blown away he steered us carefully back through the gravel rill edging the road. ‘The track could do with another grade about now,’ he observed.

  ‘Mmm,’ I agreed, then remembered something. ‘What did you mean about accommodation being difficult?’

  ‘Just that rodeo weekend’s coming up. The town will be busting at the seams with all the station people and tourists come Saturday, and they’ll all have booked ahead. Didn’t you know it was on?’

  ‘I’d forgotten. Damn! Well, I’ll have to think of someplace she can stay. Though a friend’s house would actually be better – that way she’d have someone to keep an eye on her.’

  He shrugged. ‘We’ll have to do some visiting when we get in, then. So, did we decide on a lunch spot?’

  We wound up on a shaded bench in the Civic Centre Park, where we ate our sandwiches and drained the second thermos. Packing up again, Mike slid behind the wheel with the cryptic utterance, ‘Come on. I’ve had an idea.’

  It proved to be ice creams bought from a little convenience store half a block from the backpackers’ lodge where he normally stayed, and which we ascertained was booked out – not that Mum would have been comfortable there with its dorm beds and a shared kitchen. When the cones’ smooth sweetness had been consumed, I heaved a sigh of completion, then used a cup of water from our drinking supply to rinse sticky hands.

  ‘That was lovely. Now, to work. First stop the Uniting Church manse. I don’t even know if the Thorntons are in town – they could be out on patrol – but I’m rather pinning my hopes on them.’

  ‘And Plan B is?’

  ‘Kathy Gleeson. Kathy used to cook at Abbey Downs – eight, maybe ten years back. She and Mum were friends but I don’t know if they’ve kept in touch. I noticed an ad for her husband’s business on a hoarding back there – he runs a drill rig, so they could be out of town.’ I hoped that it wouldn’t come to that and it didn’t. The first press of the doorbell brought Rae to open it, her pleasant, elderly face breaking into a smile of welcome.

  ‘Charlie, and Mike! How lovely to see you both. Come in, I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘We just had lunch actually, thanks,’ I said. ‘It’s a one-day trip today – we’re due back tonight. I’m just so glad we caught you – I half expected you’d be out on patrol.’

  ‘Not much point just now,’ she said, leading us into the living room. She patted a chairback. ‘Sit down, make yourself at home. You’re sure you won’t have some tea?’

  ‘No, it’s fine thanks, really. Why do you say that?’

  ‘What? Oh, the patrol – the rodeo, Charlie. Everyone will be in the Alice anyway. Will the Abbey lot be amongst them, Mike?’

  He nodded. ‘Not me though, or the cook. Kevin’ll probably come in, and the boys all have time off for it, starting Friday. The managers don’t like the timing – everyone’s mustering – but if you don’t let the men go they’ll just pull out anyway. This way at least you get them back.’ He grinned, ‘And a sorrier bunch you’ll rarely see till the grog’s out of ’em.’

  I sniffed theatrically. ‘Men! This is your idea of fun, is it?’

  ‘Not mine, no. But hey, Molly’ll find it easy to get a lift home.’

  ‘Not with a bunch of drunken ringers, thank you very much!’

  ‘So, she’s coming home?’ Rae interposed. ‘That’s wonderful, Charlie. When?’

  It was the opening I needed. ‘The Care Flight gets in from Adelaide tomorrow. I gather she’ll be taken to the hospital here to get her follow-up appointments with the visiting cardiologist before she’s officially discharged, but I’d forgotten about the rodeo and now I’m worried that I won’t get accommodation for her. I want her to spend at least a week in town. I just don’t feel she should be taking on a long road trip immediately.’ I paused, then rushed on, ‘Mum doesn’t actually know about this part of the plan, but really, Rae, don’t you think after a big op like that she should be close to a doctor, just for a while?’

  ‘You’re perfectly right, Charlie. And don’t worry, we’ll look after her for you. She can stay with us for as long as she needs to. As for getting her home, I’ll keep an eye out among the rodeo crowd to see if I can find somebody respectable’ – her eyes twinkled – ‘and sober to drive her home. Ben and Sue Damson, for instance, or maybe the Himans. They’d be happy to do it, I’m sure.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I stretched my neck, feeling the tension run out of my shoulders. ‘It’s so strange – I’ve never had to worry about Mum before. She always seemed, I don’t know, indestructible. She was like a machine, never ill.’ I stood up. ‘Well, I suppose we’d best be going. We have to fuel up and —’

  ‘You’re sure you won’t take something first? It’s a wearisome drive back.’

  ‘No, we’re fine, thanks. But if you wouldn’t mind, maybe we could boil the kettle and fill our thermoses?’

  ‘Of course. Bring them in and I’ll put the jug on.’

  It was another half hour before we got away. Mike brought in the bag I’d packed for Mum, carrying it under Rae’s direction straight into the guest’s bedroom.

  ‘I’ll ring the hospital and leave my number so they can let me know when she’s ready for pick-up,’ Rae said. ‘It’ll be a slow business – the Care Flights don’t usually land until around ten. If she’s discharged much before noon I’ll be surprised.’ She returned my hug. ‘Don’t worry, Charlie, and have a safe trip home. It’s been so nice to see you both again.’

  ‘Rae’s just lovely,’ I said as Mike pulled out from the kerb. ‘I hope I’m half as nice when I’m her age.’

  ‘You reckon you’ll need time to achieve it?’ he teased.

  I flicked a fingernail against his wrist. ‘You know what I mean. Head for the fuel depot. God, it’s half-two already! Where does the time get to?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  The trip back took longer than I’d expected. I reclaimed the wheel for the first half, which included the stretch of bitumen until the turn-off onto the Plenty River Highway when we began meeting a string of road trains coming from the east. They hogged the crown of the road, forcing me to slow and move over. Mike, staring intently between the slatted bars of the trailers, said, ‘They’re from Kharko – I just caught an earmark. Sale bullocks. Ours aren’t going off till next week. We’ll load them straight after the rodeo.’

  ‘Speaking of which, why aren’t you going in for it?’

  ‘To view or ride?’

  ‘Either or both,’ I said. ‘I thought all ringers loved rodeos?’

  ‘Nah. How many ways can you get piled off a bucking horse? Besides, I rather thought I might hang out with you.’

  ‘Well, great – but I’ll have to work, Mike. Still, it would be nice to have you around. And there’re always the evenings.’

  ‘Good. Maybe Bob can find me a job to fill in the days. Don’t you get any time off, Charlie?’

  I shrugged. ‘Today’s off. You can’t keep office hours in a business like the Garnet. Customers come when they come.’

  We stopped for a quick cuppa by the side of a dry creek where yellowed grass spilled down the red soil bank to the c
oarse sand of its bed. I sifted a handful through my fingers, surprised as always at the quantity of the little spiral shells among the grains.

  ‘I used to collect these when I was a kid.’ I frowned, trying to resurrect the memory. ‘From the creek near the mill. It’s proper sand there, like this. The stuff in Penny Creek’s more powdery, like pink talc. They were my little people, no arms or legs, but still …’ I held one up between thumb and forefinger. ‘A couple of pencil spots for eyes, then you glue some hair on. I’d cut a curl off with Mum’s scissors – until she found out, of course.’

  Mike’s brown eyes smiled at me. ‘Oh yes. How old were you?’

  ‘Five, maybe. I had a whole little family of them.’

  ‘And how much hair left?’

  ‘Oh, plenty.’ I pulled my hat off to run a hand through my thick curls. ‘A good thing about hair like mine is it can take a lot of mangling before it shows. So there was Mum and Dad and Uncle Bob, and two little babies and me.’ I smiled reminiscently. ‘I thought when I grew up that I’d have two babies, you see, so they could keep each other company. Looking back I don’t seem to have bothered with a husband. They lived in a tobacco tin Bob gave me. He smoked, you know, till Mum made him quit.’

  ‘Ah, well. I collected frogs. No shortage of them up north. I tied coloured strings round their necks so I could tell which were mine. Trouble is’ – Mike’s teeth glinted in a grin – ‘frogs don’t really have necks and the strings never stayed on. So maybe I just collected the same six over and over. And they escaped so often I eventually gave up on the collection. What happened to your little family?’

  ‘I lost them. They just vanished. I always blamed Annabelle for it. My things had a way of disappearing. She claimed I was just careless with stuff, but it wasn’t that. You might forget where you put things down but sooner or later you find them again. I never did.’