The Roadhouse

by Kerry McGinnis

  ‘Oh, Mum! Didn’t you tell Dad what had been done to you?’ I knew nothing of my maternal grandparents save that my grandmother had died young in childbirth and Grandfather Graham in a mining accident when Mum was a girl. She had answered my questions the one time I had asked what had become of them, and had never mentioned them again.

  ‘Of course not. I couldn’t. Times were different then, Charlie. Respectable girls were expected to enter the married state as virgins.’

  ‘But it wasn’t your fault!’

  ‘That I was spoiled goods, you mean? That wouldn’t have mattered. The time to tell him, if I was going to, was before the wedding.’ She sighed. ‘And then there wouldn’t have been one. And I needed him. I was alone in the world – unskilled, working in a boarding house for little more than my keep when we met. I thought he was the answer to a prayer. If I’m honest, I didn’t actually love him, but I liked him well enough, and I thought that love would come.’

  I shook my head. ‘Thank God times have changed. How old were you when your father —?’

  ‘The first time he did it? Eleven.’

  Horrified, I said, ‘Couldn’t you have told someone – the police?’

  She sighed. ‘The two of us lived in an old hut on a mining field in the desert, Charlie. How would I have got into town to see a policeman? My home had cracks in the walls, a dirt floor, and a long-drop dunny out the back. If you wanted a bath you bucketed water to fill a tub. I scrubbed my father’s clothes and cooked his meals and whenever he wanted sex, he came to my bed, which was a swag on the floor. There were two other families on the field but I didn’t know the women, so who was there to tell, supposing I hadn’t been too shy, or far too ashamed, to breathe a word about it? And he was always sorry afterwards. He said he couldn’t help it.’

  ‘Huh!’ I said angrily, ‘The man was a paedo. He should’ve been locked up.’

  ‘Well, he also said if I told they’d put me in a home, and with my mother dead he was the only security I knew. Every time it happened he’d swear he’d never touch me again, but a week or two later he’d be back. It wasn’t as if there was a door I could lock against him.’ She sniffed and I realised that tears were running silently down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Mum, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell Dad this – after you were married, I mean? Make him see how it was?’

  She took the tissue I gave her and wiped her eyes. ‘Because of the guilt and the shame. I can’t explain it. My father did it, not me, but I still felt as if it was somehow my fault. It crippled me emotionally. Which is why, in case you’re wondering, there’ll never be anything between Bob and me. I know he loves me, and for his sake I’m sorry that it’s so, because he deserves better, but I’ll never marry him. He accepted that a long time ago and has settled for companionship. It might be selfish of me, but a friend is better than loneliness.’ She gave a final sniff and crumpled the tissue. ‘Well, now you know. We’re all as our pasts have made us. And I know mine must have contributed to Annabelle’s problems, because Lord knows she had them.’

  She seemed to give herself a mental shake then, as if disposing of the uncharacteristic stew of emotions she’d displayed, said practically, ‘Bob’s at the backpackers’ tonight and I’m staying with the Thorntons.’ She eyed my crutches. ‘Now that you’re more or less mobile, I’m guessing they’ll let you out tomorrow.’

  The time for confidences was plainly over, so I nodded, though there was more I wanted to ask. ‘But I’m staying in town until Mike leaves too, so if you want to get back sooner, I’ll find my own way home. Is that okay?’

  ‘We’ll work something out,’ she agreed. Then, seeming to realise that she still held my toilet bag, she tutted and rose to put it in the bathroom. When she returned, she’d washed her face and patted her greying curls into place as if the past half hour had never happened. Composed and in control again, she kissed my cheek. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Charlie.’

  ‘Yes, see you, Mum.’ Saddened and amazed, I returned the embrace and watched her leave, reflecting on how little one ever knew about another, even those whose familial ties were closest, and whose lives one had judged to be open, if difficult, books.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I had an unexpected visitor that evening in the shape of Len Wilder, who tapped on my open door and entered, hat in hand. ‘Came up to see Mike,’ he explained, ‘so I thought I’d look in, see how you’re doing.’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks, Len. Take a seat. I’ll probably be out tomorrow.’ I’d removed the neck collar without incurring a reprimand and now pointed to my crutches. ‘I’m sort of mobile. How’s Cora?’

  He grinned. ‘She’s settled down. Bit like a wattle fire that woman, flares up quick, but it doesn’t last.’

  ‘Well, that’s good. So you came all this way just to see Mike? That was kind.’

  He shrugged. ‘I drove his vehicle in. I couldn’t leave it out in the scrub, and he’s gonna want transport when he gets out of here. Just dropped in to tell him where it’s at. The copper came in too, so I’ll get a lift back to the Gem Tree with him tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Why’s Tom needed in town?’

  Len shrugged. ‘Who knows? Procedure, I reckon. It’ll be the biggest case the cops have had in this neck of the woods. The bloke committed double murder – damn near a triple one. Young Mike’s real lucky to be alive.’

  ‘I know.’ I shivered. ‘When I saw him lying there with all that blood … Thank God you knew what to do. It never even occurred to me to check his pulse.’

  ‘Yeah, well, back in the day I was an ambo. I guess the training never leaves you – it’s sort of automatic, you know.’

  ‘Really?’ I was impressed. ‘So how did you get from that to camp cooking? Mike mentioned you’d worked in stock camps.’

  He hesitated and I said quickly, ‘It’s none of my business. I expect I was surprised or I wouldn’t have asked.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ He turned his hat about and shrugged. ‘No secret really. The job burned me out. It’s stressful enough dealing with strangers, you see some awful stuff, especially with road fatalities. It’s the kids that get to you. Of course it’s got its good side too – saving folk, getting them to help in time … But one night I was called out to a head-on and found my best mate and his family in the wreck. He had a road sign speared clean through his body and his little girl was dead.’ Len grimaced. ‘One of her arms was in the ditch. That did it for me. I quit the following week, just after their funerals.’ He stood up. ‘Anyway, you and Mike survived so at least your story’s had a happy ending. Something to tell your grandkids when you’ve got ’em. I’ll be getting off now. Might see you out at the Garnet sometime, eh?’

  ‘I hope so, Len. And thank you for all your help. You were splendid.’

  The colour rose under his tan and he shook his head, shrugging off the praise. He was an interesting character, I thought – artist, bushman, trained paramedic, and shrewd with it. I wondered what Mike had told him, for I was almost certain that he’d used ‘your grandkids’ in the collective sense.

  After the doctor’s visit next morning I was free to go. I pegged my way along the corridor to Mike’s room to tell him and found him sitting in the chair, restless and bored. He rose at my entrance, gesturing at the chair, but I chose to sit on the bed instead.

  ‘Easier to get back up. How’s your head feeling today?’ I noticed that his bandage had been replaced with a dressing and nodded at it. ‘That’s an improvement, but it does highlight your very odd-looking haircut.’

  ‘You’re not kidding.’ He kissed me and grimaced. ‘I feel fine but they’re still keeping me in for another twenty-four hours. A precaution, the doc reckons. And he’s insisting on a further week off work.’

  ‘Well, that makes sense,’ I said mildly. ‘You can’t wear a hat till the wound closes and you don’t want to be getting dirt and sweat in it. Why don’t you come home with me once you’re out? You can lie around getting fat or
serve behind the counter, whatever you feel like.’

  ‘Sounds good. Thanks, I’ll take you up on that, Charlie. How about dinner tomorrow night, then we can head back the next morning?’

  ‘If you’re sure, Mike. Why don’t we just wait and see? You might be a bit shaky still.’ I looked down at my wrapped, shoeless foot. ‘And I certainly don’t feel up to a glamorous night out. More like a pizza on the couch. Maybe that’d be better, and save the dinner for another time? I wouldn’t mind truly, as long as you’re on the couch with me.’

  He grinned and kissed me again. ‘Right, so the first order of business will be to find accommodation with a couch.’

  ‘Or you could just bring the pizza round to the Thorntons’? Rae has a very nice lounge suite.’ I glanced at the clock. ‘And now I have to go. I told Bob I’d wait for him in the cafe and the wardsman is probably chasing around looking for me right now.’ Mike’s look changed to one of puzzlement. ‘The wheelchair,’ I explained. ‘They never let you walk out of these places. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.’

  ‘All right, love. I’ll see you whenever, then. Pizza it is.’

  Ten minutes later, I wriggled thankfully into a comfortable position in the station wagon’s seat as the hospital vanished behind me.

  ‘Yer got enough room there?’ Bob asked. My crutches were in the back and he’d stuck a toolbox, padded with a couple of cornbags, in the footwell to rest my bad leg on.

  ‘Yes, it’s fine thanks, Bob. You’re heading home today?’

  ‘Yep.’ He squared his hat on his head, adding gloomily, ‘God knows what sorta mess those two’ll have the place in. I just hope Eric hasn’t buggered up the diesel.’

  The diesel that ran the generator was, according to Bob, only kept alive by his arcane knowledge of it. I guessed he’d be more disappointed than not if Eric had succeeded in keeping it running.

  ‘It’ll be fine. Ute could manage an army, let alone a roadhouse.’

  ‘You think?’ He didn’t, obviously. ‘So you’re still plannin’ on comin’ back, Charlie?’

  ‘Of course I am, you old grump. What else would I do? And before you ask, I’ll be back Friday if Mike’s up to it. He’s off work for a week, the doctor said, so I’ve invited him to stay.’

  Bob grunted. ‘Yeah, well, I s’pose you could do worse than ’im.’

  ‘So you actually like him?’

  He gave me a dour look. ‘I never said that. But at least he ain’t a know-all like most young fellers. That’s something.’

  I hid a smile at this rousing encomium and said encouragingly, ‘Well, it’ll give you a chance to get to know him better. Because he’s going to be around for a while – a long, long while, I hope. And I’ve been wondering, Bob, now that they have her killer, what do you reckon are the chances of the police releasing Annabelle’s body? I think it’d help Mum if we could have a funeral, so we could get on with our lives and put it all behind us – am I right?’

  ‘Yeah, yer are.’ He indicated as he turned into the Thorntons’ street, squinting at the houses. ‘This the one? Right.’ He directed the car into the driveway. ‘I already asked the cops, an’ we can bury her whenever we want.’ He opened his door. ‘Stay there till I get hold of your crutches. Molly’s at the funeral joint now, gettin’ a date an’ sortin’ things before we leave.’

  Rae and Don came hurrying out then to usher me inside and there was no time for more talk about it. Bob drove off to collect Mum from the funeral parlour. They returned briefly, stopping only long enough to say goodbye and collect Mum’s bag.

  ‘So when’s it to be?’ I asked hurriedly between exhortations to stay off my feet and not to let Mike drive until I was perfectly certain he was fit to do so.

  ‘Sometime next week. Don will decide as he’s taking it. We’ve already had one service, so perhaps people won’t bother for this, but I’ll have to let them know so they have the option. Take care, Charlie, and we’ll see you in a day or two.’

  She kissed me and left, accompanied by the Thorntons, while I stayed in my seat, listening through the window to their last-minute exchanges, the slamming doors and then the engine starting up and fading away down the street.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Three days later Mike and I were back at the Garnet. Home had never looked so good.

  ‘It’s like I’ve woken from some nightmare,’ I confided as Mike pulled in clear of the fuel pump apron. ‘How’s your head?’ It was a question I had asked perhaps too often during the trip out, for he answered with somewhat laboured patience.

  ‘It’s fine, thank you. It doesn’t ache, I’m not dizzy, nor am I experiencing any trouble with my vision. Can we please just forget about it, Charlie?’

  ‘Sorry. It’s just that my ankle still hurts and I simply fell over – you were shot!’ It worked as I’d known it would; the moment of irritation was subsumed in concern for me.

  ‘Just wait there. I’ll get your crutches, or I could carry you in if you like?’

  ‘I don’t want to give you a hernia,’ I said. ‘The crutches will be fine.’ My foot had, in fact, improved, but was not yet up to bearing my weight.

  Ute grinned and gave a piercing whistle as I clomped my way through the screen door Mike held open for me. ‘Charlie, you are here! And Mike! Your head is well again? I have made the big prayers for you both. So, God hears, I think.’

  ‘That was nice of you,’ I said as she flung her arms exuberantly about me. ‘Careful, don’t knock me down.’ Mum and Bob had arrived by then. Mike pulled out a chair and I sat, returning their greetings and inquiries.

  ‘Just another day or two,’ I told Mum, ‘then I can toss these.’ I tapped the aluminium crutches. ‘Well, actually they have to go back to the hospital. I suppose Sid can deliver them for us.’ To Bob I said, ‘Yes, the trip was fine. Not much traffic. Diesel’s still working, I see.’

  He scowled at me and went off to organise a cuppa.

  ‘How’s Eric?’ I asked Ute. ‘And the road crew? They must almost have finished the job by now.’

  ‘Is one week more,’ she said. ‘And Eric is wrong, the Murphy man did not come so all is well. They go where is more work to make. And me also, soon.’ She nodded. ‘This I have told to Molly. Is ten days but your foots will be better then, yes? And you will cook instead, Charlie.’

  I worked through this as I picked up the mug of tea Bob had provided and took a sip. ‘So you’re going with the camp as their cook?’

  ‘But no, no. Me, I go home, to Europe, to make the organising. I sack myself from my job but I must tell them, yes? Is only polite, Charlie. And also that my family, my friends, know that I leave them for always, to marry and live in the great bugger-all with my man. Then I come back. First is the notice to Molly, then is the plane trip and the goodbyes. And while I am not here, Eric will make the asking of your government, yes? For the papers and the marrying so I am not, how you say – illegal person here.’

  ‘Right.’ It was a typically energetic plan. Very Ute-like. ‘We shall miss you,’ I said. ‘I will miss you. You’ve become part of the old Garnet.’

  ‘And me also, Charlie. You are my first friend in this country so we will keep the touch when I am back and married. And Eric and me, we come often to visit you here. We drink the beer and talk about our men, and how I teach you to make the rolls, and the day you get stolen away, yes?’

  I pulled a face. ‘Well, maybe not the last bit, but the rest, you bet.’

  Her brow began to furrow and I said hastily, ‘Never mind, it just means okay. We’ll certainly do that.’

  She beamed, satisfied, and returned to the kitchen.

  By Saturday my discarded crutches were handed to Sid, who promised to personally deliver them to the hospital. By then the covering on Mike’s head wound had been reduced to a half-dozen steri-strips, and a fuzz of dark hair had started to grow back over the area. He fitted his hat on rather gingerly still, but his headaches had stopped. He wasn’t yet up to heading a ball in a socce
r game, he said, but was otherwise as fit as a mallee bull.

  ‘Oh yes?’ I pulled his head down to inspect the wound. ‘It is healing, but it looks a bit raw still. I think you should wait until at least after the funeral before you start work again.’

  This ceremony was to be held at two o’clock on Thursday. We travelled into Alice in two vehicles with Mum and Bob in the station wagon, and Mike and I in his Toyota. I hadn’t expected many of the locals to turn up – as Mum had said, they’d already attended Annabelle’s memorial service – but old Spider Webb came, and George and Bess Himan. I was surprised to see Rob Wyper in the church, barely recognising him out of his shorts and blucher boots, but he had come to town to pick up a machinery part, he explained, and thought he’d pay his respects. And to my immense surprise, both Len and Cora Wilder had turned up, arriving just behind us.

  ‘I thought you’d be out in the hills hunting gems,’ I said, greeting Cora. ‘Nice to see you both again, and very good of you to come today. Especially as you didn’t know Annabelle.’

  ‘But we’ve met you,’ Cora said, ‘and then you had such an awful time with that terrible man. Len told me all about it. How are you both?’ I could see her sneaking peeks at Mike’s head where he stood talking to her husband, but his hat covered the wound.

  ‘We’re both fully recovered, thanks,’ I said, ‘though it might’ve been a different story without Len’s help. Come and meet my mother, Cora. And do you know Rae Thornton?’ I gave Mike, who looked up as I turned away, a little wave, marvelling that we were so attuned to each other’s presence that we could actually feel when one of us drew apart from the other. Like quicksilver, our bodies yearned to join, but we hadn’t managed it yet.