*
By six, it was almost dark and a drizzly rain settled over the camp. Lavina tried, for Cathy's sake, to appear optimistic as they returned from the stream with two armfuls of old dry wood.
"Steve will be fine," she said. "If we get the fire going, it will be a homing beacon for him."
Cathy dropped her load next to the spluttering fire of smoke.
"Hell Mum," she muttered. "The drizzle's put it out."
"No," Lavina replied. "Put some of the small dry bits on and when it bursts into flames, add larger pieces. Once the heat builds up, the rain won't make any difference."
Cathy nodded. "I'm getting cold." She shivered. "We need the fire to warm us."
The pair sat down and coached the fire along so, within a few minutes, the kindling was burning fiercely and larger pieces began to ignite. The smoke became less as the heat increased and that wonderful smell of burning driftwood filled the air. True to Lavina's words, the drizzle around the fire evaporated and flickering flames became so hot Cathy had to shift back a few meters.
The dancing orange light and smoke that seemed to be squashed by the drizzle overhead, disguised the increasing darkness beyond their immediate area. It was Cathy who looked out and noticed that the trees were now only dark silhouettes against a black sky.
"It's getting dark, Mum. Will Steve be okay?"
"He'll be fine. He has the torch and promised to mark the way. He's done a lot of tramping and knows what he's doing." She wiped a hand over her face and realized her hands shook a little as her eyes focused on the slope above.
*
By nine thirty Lavina was worried, extremely worried. Cathy was asleep and wrapped snugly in the sleeping bag in the tent, the fire was still burning and a pile of red embers formed a solid base. Lavina moved closer to the flames and, using a long stick, moved the unburned outer sections of wood into the hot interior where they instantly caught alight and a shower of orange sparks drifted through the air.
She stood up, stretched and for the fourth or fifth time in as many minutes, stared into the blackness with gloomy thoughts filling her mind. Without Steve, all was lost. She and Cathy couldn't survive without him. The food was already half gone, Cathy's feet were a mess and she had abrasions down both legs and one arm. She was physically well but knew that if the weather turned worse, their chances of survival would diminish.
She tossed two more pieces of wood on the fire. Tiny tongues of flame cackled and curled around the new wood, there was a slight hiss and larger flames burst into the night air. She saw Cathy was sound asleep so zipped her jacket up and made her way up through the shrubbery to the tussock.
Drizzle and wind ripped into her when she climbed out from the sheltered hillside. The view was of total darkness as the wind howled through the tussock, like those old movies of ghosts and haunted houses. Lavina shivered from both the cold and, she had to admit, trepidation. She turned and the view of the burning fire helped overcome her fear of the lonely night.
After one more glance into the darkness she decided it was ridiculous staying on the bleak plateau and was about to return to camp when she spied something. A tiny light twinkled across the tussock. She wiped drizzle from her wet face and squinted. Yes, it was a light!
"Steve, is that you?" she yelled but the wind seemed to tug her words away. "Steve!"
She walked half a dozen steps into the darkness. "Hello!" a faint reply came back.
"Steve!" Lavina screamed and burst into a run. She stumbled over tussock but didn't care. The circle of light grew larger and she could see the shape of his body behind it. "Steve!" she yelled again.
Suddenly he was there, in her arms. His scruffy unshaven face was rubbing into her cheek. Their lips met and Lavina burst into tears.
"I thought you were lost," she sobbed. "Don't do that to me."
"I had to return the long way," he apologized and told her the good news.
Lavina clung to him and sloshed in kisses between his words. "Oh Steve! I don't know what we would have done."
"Where's Cathy?" he replied as Lavina slipped in beside him and they began to walk back towards a faint flickering reflection of the fire through the foggy drizzle.
"She's sound asleep. There's our fire." Lavina tucked her arm around his waist and placed her head on his shoulder. "I should be angry with you, you know."
"I'm sorry, Lavina, but if I'd returned any earlier I would have missed the track."
They walked back down to the warmth of the fire together and Lavina pulled a pot of bubbling water from the flames, poured some into two waiting mugs and handed Steve a steaming coffee. She went to the tent and saw her daughter was still snoring away and returned to sit beside Steve. An arm wrapped around her and they swapped news. Gradually the fire died and Lavina checked on her daughter once more. Cathy was sound asleep.
"I changed my mind," Lavina whispered to Steve.
"About what?"
"I don't want to wait until we get home. Cathy's asleep, it's quite warm out here and..." She stopped and took both her lover's hands but let one go so he could pull her jacket zip down and lifted her jersey up.
Their love making under a secluded tree away from the tent was every bit as passionate and desperate as the very first time.
"Steve," Lavina moaned as her nipples tightened and a frantic orgasm shuddered through her receptive body. She clutched at him, kissed his lips, his neck, his hair. She pressed her fingernails into his shoulders as she responded in frantic passion to his penetration. Slowly they both recovered from mutual orgasms before they sat up and realized it was cold.
Lavina smiled at her lover for a second but her lip quivered and she began to cry softly.
"Why the tears?" He kissed her lips and clasped her again to his chest.
"Just relief," Lavina said, sniffling. “It could have been... Oh Steve, first I almost lost Cathy...then you were so late returning ... I thought you were lost. All day today we tramped but got nowhere."
"But tomorrow we'll walk out," Steve said. "Come on. I could do with some more coffee and a bite to eat."
Lavina stood and fastened up her clothes. "There's some tinned sausages," she said. "I kept them warm for you."
She hesitated and her eyes almost glowed in the darkness. "Steve can I be very cheeky?" she asked in a shy voice.
"Go ahead." His own voice sounded choked with emotion, as if he anticipated what was about to be said.
"Can Cathy and I move in to your apartment when we get out of here? She suggested it." Lavina repeated the earlier conversation she had had with her daughter. "If it's no trouble, I'll take her out of the boarding school. She can either be a day pupil or attend a local public school. But only if you want it that way."
"I do," Steve said. "I've wanted it to be like that for weeks, now, almost since I first met you." He kissed her again. "Now about those sausages..."
"Just like the old cliché." Lavina laughed. "The best way to get to a man is through his stomach."
She walked over, placed the last three pieces of wood on the fire, moved the blackened pot from the edge of the embers to the hotter central section and gave the food a stir.
*
Morning dawned, cold and crisp with the exposed grass white with frost. The three stiff and tired refugees stoked the fire, cooked some more porridge and packed up.
"Monday morning," Steve gave a sideways grin. "I guess someone down there will be missing us soon."
"I was due back at school by eight last night," Cathy said as she pulled on a second pair of socks, both used and dirty but warmth was more important than hygiene at the moment. "Old Mrs. Howlett will be mad." She smiled and puffed condensation into the air. "I'd rather be here with you and Mum anyhow, Steve."
"Surely, Grant has come to his senses by now," Lavina added. "The last time he was high on those drugs he slept for a day and regretted his actions." She grimaced. "That was the last time he was violent and afterwards he used all his charm to persuade me not to wa
lk out." She shrugged and shook her head. "Like a fool, I believed him."
*
Sunday morning for Grant Ryland was the usual alcoholic hangover complementing the withdrawal symptoms from Saturday's Uppers.
"Damn the woman!" he muttered as he staggered out to feed the dogs. He wandered past the implement shed and spied the jeep. Oh hell! He'd forgotten about that.
After he'd tossed some food at the dogs, he lifted his motorbike into the rear of the vehicle and headed up the road. Within ten minutes, the gravel changed to clay and mud. Grant switched in four-wheel drive, low ratio and continued another four kilometres until he was in thick bush and at the entrance of one of the walking tracks.
"This'll do," he muttered and parked the vehicle beneath an overhanging tree. He dragged his motorbike out the back, locked up the jeep, tossed the keys away into thick undergrowth and headed home on the bike. During the whole time, not one other person was seen in the remote countryside.
Grant arrived home, cursed all women and slept away the rest of the morning. That evening, he anticipated everything would change after Janice Ludlow arrived. Sex was foremost on his mind. The woman was beginning to protest but this only turned him on more. Her having a father that was a stern religious disciplinarian helped him enforce his dominance over the girl. One threat to tell her father of their relationship and she was putty in his hand.
However, the three hours of Janice's visit were completely different from his expectations. She had arrived looking grim and even the short flight they'd had in the Cessna, something she usually enjoyed, didn't change her mood. There was one blazing row, no sex and his bluff to tell her father was thrown back in his face. She ended up leaving in tears with a frustrated man thinking back to the wife and family he'd abandoned up on the plateau.
By Monday morning, Ryland was regretting his actions even more. He shook his throbbing head, wandered out to the Cessna and taxied to the paddock that was used as the airstrip. Lavina, after all had been pretty loyal over the years. She was probably shit scared by now so he'd fly up and bring them all back. That bastard who was having a fling with her didn't deserve to be rescued, but the chances were Lavina would get over her urges and come back home, even if it was just for the kid.
His mind switched to his mistress. It wasn't his fault Janice Ludlow couldn't look after herself. Even before the incident the other night, she'd become demanding and possessive. Bloody women were always like that. They were perfect for a few weeks then began to get their fingers into you and before one knew it, they would take over and be telling you what to do. Mind you, life with Janice wouldn't have been too bad and her father's money could have helped get the farm out of the bank's clutches.
That new schoolteacher at Lower Forks Road School had possibilities. She was keen on booze, he knew. He could slip one of his pills in her drink at the pub, offer her a ride home and... he grinned. With the wife at home and a new bit of light relief up the road, he could forget about the Ludlow tart.
Deep in thought, Ryland swung the Cessna around and studied the frost-covered grass. It'll be bloody cold up on the top. Serve the bitch right. He opened the throttle and took off.
The airplane was a reliable old craft, too reliable. Grant was hundreds of hours behind in the engine maintenance and never bothered to log flight plans or anything else. After all, he only flew up to a few top strips when he went hunting or wanted to bring the sheep down from the top ridges. He hadn't flown down to the low country for years. He blew on his hands and turned the heater to full. Everywhere, hills glistened in a thick white frost.
Ryland adjusted the throttle, levelled off and watched as the grass changed to bush. The valleys became steeper and denser, the ranges higher and the bush turned to scrub, then tussock. This was the first range. He'd dropped Lavina, the kid and that other bugger off at the top of the second one. He grinned and was about to increase altitude when, without even a splutter, the engine died.
"Shit!" Grant reached for the starter. Lights glowed red and dials swung back as the Cessna dropped. The plane was between two ridges with nothing below except thick bush and a small river in the valley. That was the only clear space.
"Mayday! Mayday! Cessna ZK HTG has engine failure. Position is..." His voice continued in a raised panic as he eased back the flaps and fought the heavy controls. The motor wouldn't start and there was a distinct smell of gasoline. The carburettor had probably frozen.
"Mayday!" he screamed. The radio crackled and a calm voice from a distant controller replied.
"We have you on radar ZK HTG..."
Grant was too busy to respond. The tiny plane levelled out between trees above the river in a smooth landing. However, the right wheel clipped a rock, the Cessna flipped and careened into the valley wall at close to a hundred kilometres an hour.
Nobody heard the scream of tortured steel being ripped apart, or heard the roar as fuel tanks ruptured and exploded like a terrorist's bomb. Ryland didn't even have time to utter a final curse. Black smoke bellowed into the air from the wreckage.
*
Once the trio reached Stainer's Track the orange rectangles showed the way through the reasonably clear undergrowth under towering trees. There wasn't any sign of a natural track, so the trail markers were all that prevented the trampers from becoming completely lost. At one point, the markers stopped and Steve suggested Lavina stay by the last one while Cathy and he move forward. Then Cathy waited at the next marker while Steve continued on to search for a third one.
After ten minutes and searching in three directions, Steve yelled, "I found one!"
The relieved mother and daughter caught up to him and the journey continued down a slope so steep it jarred their calf muscles.
"Mum," Cathy whimpered when they reached a level strip. "Can we stop for a rest? I'm buggered."
Lavina glanced at Steve who nodded and slipped the backpack from his shoulders. It was almost noon and they'd been walking downhill for an hour. They leaned against a massive tree and rested. Lavina looked totally exhausted and couldn't even raise her normal cheerful smile. She shut her eyes and grimaced.
"Is there a problem, Lavina?" Steve asked.
"Just cramp. It'll go in a minute." She bit on her lip and managed a smile. "I never realized walking downhill was so difficult."
"That last section was pretty steep," Steve said. "I'm proud of both of you. We've made excellent progress. At this rate we'll be at that hut by mid-afternoon."
Cathy smiled at the compliment and hobbled to her feet.
"Do they hurt, sweetheart?" Lavina asked.
"A little, but no more than your cramp, I bet."
"Let me see," Steve ordered. He bent down, unlaced Cathy's shoe and peeled off the two socks she was still wearing. The youngster flinched as the last sock was removed to show a pulpy mass of bruised flesh.
"Cathy," gasped Lavina. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't want to slow us up." Cathy gazed up at her mother. "It's always me holding you up."
"No it isn't!" Steve answered. "Your mum's tired and so am I. You are not holding us up one little bit."
"But I will, Steve," gasped Cathy with tears springing to her eyes. "I don't think I could get down another section like the one we've just done."
"You won't need to," Steve said. He gently took the girl's other shoe and sock off and found this one as bad as the first. "We'll bandage your feet again but leave your shoes off. They're causing the trouble."
"But Steve?" Lavina said.
"I'll piggyback her," Steve said with grim determination. "If you don't mind wearing this biggest backpack, and carrying the tent too, Cathy can put the smaller one on and I hitch her up on my back."
"Are you sure, Steve?" Cathy protested. She was almost in tears.
"Of course. Families stick together." He grinned and turned around. "Now jump up, young lady and don't throttle me."
Lavina watched the two people she loved. The muscular man with whiskery face, mud covered
jeans and eyes that tried to hide his tired condition carrying her growing daughter, hair loose from its normal ponytail and pale face trying to maintain a certain dignity.
"Okay, we're off," Steve said. He hitched Cathy up onto his back and with her clinging to his neck, headed for the next orange rectangle.
The ground levelled and after an hour, they found themselves beside another stream.
"Steve," Lavina puffed, "I think this is the same stream but we're below the waterfall."
"Could be," Steve said. He hoisted Cathy up and tried at the same time to straighten his back. He was exhausted but was not about to admit defeat. Cathy, heavy from the beginning, now felt like a ton of cement as he plodded forward. He shook his head and squinted. There was another marker ahead. He staggered and almost fell, but continued on.
"Steve! Stop!" ordered Lavina. "You're exhausted. Put Cathy down. We can rest for a while."
Steve was about to reply that he was fine when he turned and saw Lavina's concern.
"Okay." He lowered Cathy from his back.
"Thanks, Steve." With a twitch of a smile on her face, Cathy hobbled over to a stone by the stream and dipped her feet in. "My God, the water's cold," she yelled and pulled them out again.
Lavina took out the gas cooker. "I think a hot drink will go down well. You two relax and I'll get it ready. We can also use warm water to soak your feet, Cathy."
"Okay, Mum. Thanks." Cathy leaned back to relax. Of the three, she now looked the fittest. Colour had come back into her cheeks and a sparkle returned to her eyes.
Lavina rubbed a hand over her face. "How far do you think it is now, Steve?"
"Hard to say. We made quite a good pace." He glanced at his watch. "It's just after two. I'd say we'd be there a little after four."
*
It was ten past five and the three still staggered on. Over the last twenty minutes, they'd walked through cold, penetrating rain. Cathy was almost asleep on Steve's back and his walk was stooped. It appeared that only sheer willpower kept him going.
Like Twigs in a Storm Page 6