Blood Brothers

by Charles Beagley

  “Good heavens, you do know a lot. I didn’t realise how important he was until the crash. Just goes to show how we sometimes take our husbands for granted.”

  “Hear, hear,” Jeff exclaimed, with what looked like a fresh glass in his hand.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Marge said. “You have an early start tomorrow.”

  “Not on my behalf, I hope,” Kate said.

  “No, Kate, it’s all right. I shall be seeing to your arrangements tomorrow. He’s got to get out to Steve with a spare part for the campervan.”

  “How did he know?”

  “We have walkie-talkies for the stockmen to carry when they’re out on the range. They were an expense we just had to pay. They’ve been a godsend since we got them and they run off batteries that we keep charged in the radio shack.”

  “I seem to have strayed a bit, I’m sorry,” Kate said.

  “That’s okay, Kate,” Marge said, glancing over to the other two, lying back with their eyes closed. “Isn’t it, lads?” she called out.

  “I can hear every word, Marge,” Jeff muttered. There was no reply from Sean.

  Marge laughed. “We already know quite a lot, even if some of it is slightly exaggerated. “I know you’re both English, but why did you leave all that culture to come out to one of your colonies?”

  “I don’t think we really class Australia as one of our colonies; I suggest that’s all on your side. To us, Australia is another country, like any other. If I was to sum it up simply, I’d say we emigrated because of the terrible weather and the state of the country back then. And, yes, we miss the culture, but it was a small price to pay for all the advantages we have here.”

  “Why choose Broome?”

  “We didn’t. We landed in Melbourne. We had relatives there who made our integration that much easier. I fitted in fine with my credentials in the educational field, but Martin was the one who had difficulties. His area of engineering was not catered for as it had been in England, so he had to lower his sights.”

  “That can be very hard for a man. His job is everything.”

  “Yes, he had a bad time for a couple of years.”

  “So how did Western Australia come into it?”

  “He saw an ad for an Engineering Consultant’s job for an American mining company in Broome. Although, at the time he didn’t realise he wouldn’t actually be working there. He was to be a travelling engineer.”

  “Didn’t that put him off? I mean it’s a long way to travel for a job if it’s not what you really want.”

  “He was bedazzled by the dollar signs. For a start the salary was twice what he was getting, all the removal expenses were paid for and on top of that they provided a low interest house loan. It was manna from heaven.”

  “You didn’t mind that? You must have been settled in your job by then.”

  “That’s just it, Marge. When the American company found out about my qualifications they contacted the Broome Educational Authority and lined up an excellent opportunity for me. Subject to the interview, it was in the bag. And when they found out Martin was hesitating, they flew the whole family up to Broome on an all-expenses-paid holiday. We were able to have our interviews and enjoy the beautiful weather at the same time.”

  “Of course you still had all the hassle of selling your house in Melbourne.”

  “No, Marge. That was the icing on the cake. They hired an agent to take care of everything. That’s what it’s like dealing with these giant American companies.”

  “I don’t know, Kate. I mean I’m glad for you and your family, but it sounds like you’re selling your soul to them.”

  “There you are,” Jeff interrupted. “You sound just like my father. He didn’t want anything to do with the government aid and low interest loans. He said once that the government’s got hold of you, they own you.”

  “That was a different situation, Jeff.”

  “How different? We’re still in hock to the bank.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him, Kate; he still blames his father for getting the station into such a mess. It had nothing to do with money. He was too easy on the Aboriginal stockmen. He let them do what they wanted.”

  “You soon sorted that out,” Jeff spoke up again. “Now I have to work twice as hard just to keep things working. If it wasn’t for those jackeroos every season I don’t know what we’d do.”

  “And whose idea was that?”

  “All right, you two. Can a man not get any sleep?” Sean uttered.

  They all laughed and Marge shook her head, “Kate must think we’re a terrible lot, arguing all the time. We don’t mean anything by it.”

  “I know, Marge. It reminds me of home. I miss not being able to talk to the kids. I keep checking my mobile, but all I keep getting is the ‘No Signal’ sign; when are they going to put some mobile towers out here?”

  “And where would they put them, Kate?” Jeff asked. “The Great Sandy Desert is an enormous place. Then you have the Gibson Desert and following that the Great Victoria Desert, which takes up half of Western Australia.”

  “I suppose you’re right. In America the mid-west is just the same.”

  “Yes, but they’ve got around their problem with satellite phones. That’s what we need to do; get ourselves one of those satellite dishes.”

  “And add more expense to our bank account,” Marge reminded him.

  Kate never did finish her tale of the Dexter family’s progress when they reached their new environment in Broome with the extreme difference in the climate, only two seasons instead of four, and not seeing Martin for days on end. There were too many interruptions and the evening was drawing to a close.

  She had not taken into account the different lifestyle of the inhabitants of the cattle station on the verge of the Sandy Desert. Early to bed and early to rise was their regime. Like country folk everywhere, they measured their day by the rise and fall of the sun, the dry season and the wet season. They were a God-fearing people; if he could not help them, no one could.

  By ten o’clock they were preparing for bed. Sean said his farewells and left for his permanent guest-room, Jeff surprisingly embraced Kate and wished her a safe journey and that Martin would soon recover in Broome. Then he left the room for an early start in the morning. Tomorrow was just another day to them.

  Marge stood up, bent over Kate and kissed her on the cheek. “I won’t say goodbye just yet. You and I have an early start tomorrow, getting Martin ready for the plane, having our chat with Miss Gerry and with my little lesson on the radio. So I’ll leave my goodbyes till then. If it’s too early, you can watch television if you like. It’s not much good though.”

  “Good heavens no, Marge,” Kate said, standing up. “If we’re getting up early in the morning, I’ll need all the sleep I can get; although I doubt if I will sleep. I’ll be thinking about how Martin is going to cope on the plane.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Kate opened her eyes wondering what had woken her. The room was still dark, and reaching for her mobile she discovered her alarm had not gone off yet. She lay there going over her discussion with Marge as they had climbed the stairs, about a four o’clock call, so that they could leave for the station at five. It was only three-thirty.

  Then she heard the thump of a car door, a man’s voice and another thump. She eased herself out of the bed and went across to the window. It looked still and lifeless with only the barest of light creeping around the corner of the house. It was too early for sunrise, until she remembered her window was facing west. Then two brilliant beams of light shot out across the dirt forecourt, getting longer and narrower until a dark shape appeared behind them. Kate was not sure, but she guessed it was Jeff’s Land Rover. It turned left. The beams disappeared behind the shape, with only a glow outlining it until it turned right at the conjunction of the circle and the long beams lit the track as it headed towards the station.

  As Kate started to return to her bed she caught the smell of cooking. She
opened the door. Marge was up, probably pottering in the kitchen after making breakfast for Jeff and Sean. There was no point in going back to bed now, not when Marge would soon be knocking on her door. Kate tiptoed across the landing to the bathroom, switched on the light, had a quick wash down and dried herself.

  Back in her room she switched on the light, put on the clothes she’d worn the night before, packed her holdall and saw to her make-up. She checked herself once more in the mirror and nodded. One last check of the room to see that she was leaving it tidy and she switched off the light and made her way across the landing and down the stairs towards the lounge.

  There were two table lamps on in the lounge, which cast a glow across the shiny wooden floor all the way to the foot of the staircase. Going only on the pervading smell and her recollection of Marge and Jeff’s movements with the food last night, Kate headed into the dining room and turned right towards a lighted doorway, and as Kate walked into the huge kitchen Marge looked up from a table she was sitting alongside, finishing her breakfast.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall opposite.

  “You’re up early, Kate. I was going to let you sleep on till four.”

  “I woke early for some reason, so I decided to get up.”

  “Probably those two oafs banging about…I told them to be quiet with your room right above the garage area, but it’s like dealing with children sometimes. Anyway, don’t stand there holding your bag. Drop it over there and sit down.”

  Kate did what she asked and sat down opposite. Marge was just finishing what looked like a hearty breakfast. She had a drink from the mug she was holding and, looking Kate in the eye, asked her if she was ready for her breakfast.

  It was almost four o’clock in the morning; the thought of eating anything at that time made her shudder. Then she noticed the white plate at the end of the table opposite the huge black stove. On the plate was a sausage, two slices of bacon, a chopped tomato and alongside the edge of the plate was a brown egg.

  Kate looked at Marge with a frown. “You don’t expect me to eat all that, do you? Not at this time in the morning?”

  “We always start the day with a good breakfast inside us. You can’t run a cattle station on an empty stomach. You never know when your next meal will be.”

  “I don’t have to run a cattle station, Marge.”

  “No…but you are going on a long flight.”

  Kate held off her reply for a moment, contemplating whether or not the plane would furnish refreshments during the flight. “Instead, would you possibly be able to make up some of those beef sandwiches you mentioned earlier, please?”

  Marge looked disappointed for the moment, and then she smiled and returned the plate to the large old-fashioned icebox standing in the opposite corner of the room. “Very well,” she said returning to the table. “I’ll make you an assortment. You might get sick of just beef.”

  Before she started, she made Kate a mug of tea as she toasted some of her homemade bread by the open stove and left Kate a dish of butter and a pot of blackberry jam. Kate hesitated, asking her where the blackberries had come from.

  “As you may have noticed from your window, I have a small garden of sorts,” Marge answered as she got on with the sandwiches. Passing Kate two pieces of toast, she continued, “Anyway, amongst the essentials I treated myself to a blackberry bush; I had it sent down on the mail run. It took a year to mature, but eventually I got enough berries off it to make some jam. Now get on with your breakfast, we’ll have to leave soon.”

  “One last question,” Kate said, “How do you heat the water?”

  Marge smiled and pointed to the large black stove she cooked on.

  After breakfast, Kate sat in one of the rattan chairs on the veranda waiting for Marge to bring her car around from the garage. It was surprisingly warm for five o’clock; not hot of course, but not chilly either. In Broome, close to the open sea, there would always be an early morning fret that left the garden lathered with a layer of dew. It soon disappeared when the sun climbed above the distant hills; by which time Kate would be just starting her day after Martin’s early start.

  Once again a pair of beams turned in front of the house. Marge got out of her earlier model Land Rover and climbed the steps for Kate’s bag. She threw it on the back seat assuming Kate was going to sit beside her in the front. She did, and with only a reminder for Kate to put her seat belt on, she set off along the circular track back towards the main route to the station.

  Kate could see lights in the distance. The station had already been awake for over an hour. She turned to Marge, her blank expression highlighted by the coloured dashboard lights, wanting to chat.

  “It must be a long day for you, Marge,” she said.

  “Oh, it’s not that bad once you get used to it. Yes…I have to get up early, but by six-thirty…seven, the day’s mainly my own… Except today. Apart from seeing you off, it’s accounts day. I go round all the different sections of the station and sort out their expenses and mark it all up in the ledger.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought that was necessary out here.”

  Marge laughed. “Oh dear, I wish. Not only do I have to balance how much of our collaborative supplies each outlet is using; there’s the tax man to satisfy.”

  “The tax man?” Kate exclaimed.

  “Oh yes… It might only be once a year, but we still have to justify what profit or loss we make on the end-of-season cattle sales.”

  Kate shook her head in amazement, “Isn’t that just the thing? I never thought you would be bothered with all the paraphernalia of the outside world. But I suppose civilisation does have a long reach.”

  By the time Marge pulled up in front of Jeff’s office, Kate could see the sunrise lighting up the stockyards further on towards the east. They looked gaunt and spidery against the orange glow and the silhouettes of the stockmen, leading out the horses ready for another day, were like marionettes on a rustic stage.

  Kate expected Marge to stop outside the school for her last-minute talk with Miss Gerry, and just as she was about to turn and say something, she saw the old teacher walk out of Jeff’s office. She was standing on the boardwalk when Marge pulled alongside and switched off the engine, and she waved to Kate.

  “I got up early this morning so that I wouldn’t miss you,” she said, as Kate walked round to the boardwalk. “Are you all ready to go?”

  Kate gave her a kiss on the cheek and when Marge joined them, they all walked into Jeff’s office. Chris was sitting by the desk with his medical bag in-between his feet, with a look of apprehension on his face.

  “Everything’s ready, Kate,” he said. “Martin’s had his meds so don’t be surprised if he seems a little drowsy.” He checked his watch and glanced in Marge’s direction. “I checked with the pilot and we have a window of forty-five minutes if you want to sort out your radio details.”

  Kate was amazed once again. “You were right. Everyone, even Chris, seems to know my business. “How did you find out about the radio?”

  He hesitated while he ran through last night’s activities. “I don’t know really. It seemed to be general knowledge. I spent some time with the doctor, the pilots, of course, and oh yes, a funny Irishman popped his head in when we were playing snooker. He wanted to talk to the doctor.”

  “There’s your link, Kate,” Marge said nodding her head. “And don’t ask me how he found out…it would take too long.”

  Knowing she was going to spend the next three hours with Martin, Kate turned her attention to the important matters of Willy and what to do with the radio communication. She sat down in a chair next to a small table in the corner where the radio equipment was. Marge sat in front ready to explain, while Miss Gerry stood alongside. Chris left the room, presumably to see to Martin.

  “If I can start first,” Kate interrupted Marge, who was eager to get started. “I just wanted to ask Miss Gerry if Willy was serious about improving himself.”

  “He talks about no
thing else, Kate. That’s why he got himself into so much trouble with his clan.”

  “Didn’t you say Jeff sorted that out?” Kate replied.

  Miss Gerry glanced at Marge for confirmation. “Yes, it’s all sorted.”

  “Good…so I can go ahead with my enquiries?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so,” Miss Gerry said, nodding her head.

  “I think there’s going to be a lot of consultation before anything’s settled, so let’s sort out this radio procedure as we haven’t got much time,” Marge said.

  Kate nodded, eager to learn another skill, although by all accounts she wouldn’t actually be doing the communicating.

  “Remember I said Martin’s radio man will be handling the radio – that’s if I can persuade them to let me use it.”

  “Of course, I remember you telling me,” Marge answered. “That makes it much simpler. All you really want to know is our call sign and what frequency we use…they’re funny about that. Then as soon as you get the okay, get the radio operator to call us and leave his call sign and frequency.”

  “Is that all?” Kate asked, surprised it was so simple.

  “Yes…except it does take some experience to get the transmission right. But that will be your operator’s problem. I’m sure they’re more proficient that me.”

  A smile crossed Miss Gerry’s face and she jumped in to say her piece.

  “That sounds great. As soon as we make contact we can keep in touch and pass information to and fro until we can reach a final solution about Willy’s welfare.”

  Marge jotted down the information on her pad, pulled off the top sheet and handed it to Kate. She dropped it into her bag straightaway.

  Just as they shook hands and hugged each other, Chris popped his head around the door. “Have you settled your business? The doctor’s ready with Martin.”

  Kate stood up and made her way outside. The tears began to flow when she saw the nurse, Mini, waiting by the car. Kate embraced her and didn’t want to let her go. But she had to, just as she had to say goodbye to all those who’d helped her and Martin. By now there was a crowd gathering on the boardwalk as Chris and the doctor helped Martin into Marge’s car. Chris went in first, then Martin and finally Dr Fitzpatrick. Kate returned to the passenger seat with her window open so that she could hold Miss Gerry’s hand one last time. Marge switched the engine on and slowly made her way past the waving hands of the stockmen sitting on the railings and on to the waiting plane at the end of the runway.