by Lucy Walker
Mrs. de Berhans crossed the room and picked up a telephone hand-receiver from a small table near the fire place. A click connected her with Appleton.
‘Annabel! Good, you’re the one I wanted. We’re going for a picnic to the Salt Lakes. Which day will you come … to-morrow or Friday? Now don’t hesitate … you’re coming … that’s the end of it …’
There was a long pause as Mrs. de Berhans listened. Then she put her hand over the cup of the receiver and looked impishly at Kate.
‘You come and add your persuasions, Kate. Don’t let her back out. Say it’s for your sake …’
Kate took over the receiver.
‘That you, Annabel? Please come for the picnic. Mrs. de Berhans has planned it all for you before you go to Albany. Without you it has no point … please, Annabel. You see, I’ve been out with Beatrix most of the time. And Hal. But not with you. Mrs. de Berhans and I want you. Blow getting ready to go to Albany … what you haven’t got ready you can buy … or go without …’
Kate looked joyously at Mrs. de Berhans.
‘She’s coming,’ she whispered. ‘She’s gone to tell Mrs. Weston. But she’s quite firm about it …’
‘Hallo, Annabel! You’re coming! Hurray? We’ll get the others to agree later. To-morrow? Whacko!’
Chapter Six
The picnic to the Salt Lakes was on Thursday. It was fixed for that day so that Annabel still had a day for her final preparations to Albany.
However, Mrs. de Berhans and Kate were no match for Mrs. Weston. She was up betimes. She supervised the preparations of the food in the kitchen. She hovered round the cook while chicken roasted, a leg of lamb cut from the meat roasted in the giant oven the night before; ice-cream set in the vacuum billycans to keep it frozen; pile upon pile of ham, cold lamb and tomato and cucumber sandwiches made. The first apples from the Jonathan trees were fetched up from the orchard with the bloom still on them.
All this was achieved before the other members of the family had emerged from their bedrooms.
‘Mother’s up to something,’ Beatrix said, tiptoeing into Kate’s room. ‘She hasn’t turned on such a spread in years. And driving Cooky and Riley mad while she pokes round them. They’re no sooner one end of the kitchen skimming the clotted cream into a jar than she hauls them down the other end to reach for the chutneys and pickles. But it’s not all good nature. She’s up to something.’
‘Have you been out spying, Beatrix?’
‘Spying’s the word. I tiptoed round the outhouse to the kitchen porch to see what was going on. I wasn’t going to be seen and roped in to help organise. The table is loaded with the picnic china too. That means she’s sending some of the men too …’
Beatrix broke off, her hand to her mouth.
‘No,’ she said suddenly and fiercely.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s Mrs. de Berhans’ picnic. Don’t tell me Mother’s gone and organised the neighbourhood! Wait …!’
She dashed from the room.
Kate could hear altercation on the veranda where breakfast and lunch were usually held. Hal’s voice too!
She hurried with her dressing and was just on the point of putting away her brush and comb when Annabel knocked and came in.
She was in her floral overall.
Kate, looking at her, knew the worst at once.
‘Annabel, you’re not going!’
‘No. Please don’t be offended, Kate. I really couldn’t manage it. Mother thought I’d be too tired. A picnic’s awfully exhausting, you know. And there’s so much to do …’
‘Annabel … There isn’t anything to do I can’t do for you. I can spend all day to-morrow pressing your things, packing … I’m an expert on packing. What could you have to do for so short a visit?’
‘It isn’t just me, it’s the children’s things. Sugar hasn’t a decent play-suit. It’s getting hotter now and she needs summer play-suits. I hadn’t realised she’s outgrown them all.’
Annabel stood inside the door. The light from the windows was shining on her face. She had a firm, almost stubborn jaw.
Kate sat down on her bed.
‘Don’t you want to come? It was for you Mrs. de Berhans arranged it.’
‘Oh no, she didn’t, Kate. Not really. It was to get you and the Benallens out for the day. Plus me and Beatrix … but really an excuse to have a picnic without Mother.’
Kate was bewildered.
‘Annabel, dear … Really and truly … Mrs. de Berhans thought it would be fun for you. You don’t ever go out.’
‘It was really designed to leave Mother out.’
Kate felt uncomfortable. There was some truth in this, she knew.
‘I think we were to ride most of the way … and then come back to one of the lakes that could be reached by the jeep. You know the country and I don’t. But I thought you and the children were to go by jeep. You see, Mrs. Weston would not be able to stand such a ride … even for a few miles …’
Annabel turned to the door.
‘You’re sweet, Kate … but you don’t know the de Berhans and the Benallens as I do.’
‘And you’re not coming?’
‘No. Mother’s going to take the children. Hal will drive her over in the station waggon. The picnic can be at de Groot Lake. There’s a car track right through the de Groot estate.’
Kate sat on her bed and listened to Annabel’s footsteps receding down the passage.
‘And she doesn’t even care,’ she thought. ‘Or does she?’ Mrs. Weston coming! The picnic place altered! And Mrs. Weston bringing the children anyway!
Kate felt flabbergasted. She wondered if Mrs. de Berhans knew yet what had happened to her picnic.
She gave her hair another brush for luck and went out on to the veranda. The great bowls of plums and cream were standing waiting for attention. The scones and bread rolls were smoking in the still air. It smelt so good. It looked so colourful on the white breakfast cloth on which stood so many gaily coloured bowls and dishes.
Beatrix came through the wire door from the garden path and let it swing to behind her with a resounding bang.
‘I’ve just been having a few words with Hal. He’s got the fleet out … all except the “super-sonic”. It, thank God, wouldn’t clear the stumps and holes on the track.’
‘What does he want the whole fleet for?’ Kate asked meekly.
‘They’re all coming … Mother, and … the Cricks.’
‘Which Cricks?’
‘The ones Mrs. de Berhans likes least. Mother’s decided we ought to give them a treat.’
‘But Beatrix …’
‘I know. It’s Mrs. de Berhans’ picnic. It was, but it’s not now.’
Uncle Harry came round the corner from the kitchen veranda.
His hat was pulled forward over his eyes. There were two cockatoo feathers in the hat band.
‘Breakfast? Well, that’s good. I’m hungry.’
He sat down, putting his hat on the floor under his chair. Kate ladled him some plums. Beatrix went away towards the kitchen.
‘You coming to the picnic, Uncle Harry?’ Kate asked. As she was alone with him she did not mind drawing her chair up close to his and putting her mouth near his ear.
‘Picnic? Did you say picnic, Kate?’
‘Yes, picnic. A picnic to the Salt Lakes. We’re all going.’
‘Who’s going, Kate?’
‘All of us.’
‘I wondered what the deuce Hal had the three cars out for.’
‘He’s not taking the “super”.’
‘Beautiful car that … Kate. No good on the outback tracks through. Got an engine like a bird. Beautiful car. Except Hal’ll ruin it. Ruins all the horses.’
‘Are you coming, Uncle Harry?’
‘Coming? Who? Me? No. I’m not coming, Kate. Get very nervy when there’s a lot of people round and I can’t hear ’em properly. Going to muster in the Southdowns. Dipping begins next week. You seen the new dipping race and
bath, Kate.’
She shook her head.
‘What do you dip the sheep for?’
‘Lice. And improves their fleece no end.’
Mrs. Weston came hobbling round the veranda.
‘There you are, Uncle Harry. Have they given you your breakfast?’
He didn’t hear so he took no notice.
‘Kate says you’re all going for a picnic?’
Mrs. Weston’s smile was positively malignant.
‘Yes. We’re all going.’ She sat down beside Kate and breathed painfully. She put her hand on her knee and grimaced. Then she put her hand on her heart and breathed painfully again. Kate thought it was all phony. Then reproved herself for such unkindness. However, she couldn’t bring herself to sympathise. She went on eating plums as if she didn’t notice.
Mrs. Weston, finding no one taking notice, began to incline her own attention towards the plums.
‘Kate, be a good girl. Just give me a few plums. Just a few. I’ve been in that boiling kitchen ever since six-thirty. I don’t really feel up to much.’
‘I wish I had known you would be up so early. I would have liked to help. I thought Mrs. de Berhans was preparing the …’
‘Preparing nothing … Nobody at Arundel can cook chickens properly. Besides, they’re very mean with food over there. They wouldn’t bring enough.’
They ate in silence. Kate arrived at the coffee roll and tea stage and stood up.
‘I’ll get the tea tray, shall I?’ she said. ‘I suppose everyone is occupied this morning.’
‘Yes, get it, that’s a good girl, Kate,’ Mrs. Weston said seraphically. ‘And while you’re round there would you ring through to Arundel and tell them of the change of plans here. Just say Annabel just can’t get there … it’s really too much to expect of her. Now don’t forget that part, Kate. You might add that I’ll bring the children.’
Kate hesitated.
‘Perhaps Annabel should ring …’
‘Nonsense,’ Mrs. Weston said testily. ‘You and Mrs. de Berhans thought up this picnic … now you run along like a good girl and explain the alterations.’
Kate walked reluctantly around to the kitchen veranda outside which was the switchboard. Beatrix came out of the kitchen, letting the wire door bang behind her.
‘Beatrix …’ Kate whispered. ‘You ring up …’
‘Not on your life. Anyhow, they’d know already. The bush telegraph would tell them.’
‘Bush telegraph?’
‘Nobody would ring through. They’d know we’d hear on the switchboard. Mrs. Willy would see that someone rode over … don’t you fret.’
‘Mrs. Willy? But she’s Mrs. Weston’s friend.’
‘Nobody’s anybody’s friend in Blackwood, Kate. Well, revise that … I think the two “B”s are faithful. The de Berhans and the Benallens. But that’s all.’
Mrs. Weston came hobbling round the corner.
‘Oh, and Kate …’ she added. ‘You might ring Peg Castillon up and tell her we’ll pick her up at the Forest Valley boundary turn-off. Tell her to come in the waggon with me …’
Again she favoured Beatrix with a sly smile.
‘She can look after the children,’ she added.
Kate stiffened and stared blankly at Mrs. Weston.
‘Don’t say it, Kate …’ said Beatrix.
Kate lifted the receiver and held down the plug in the Arundel number.
‘It’s Kate …’ she said weakly. ‘Things have been altered here a little … I think it really is too much for Annabel …’
Mrs. de Berhans’ voice interrupted her.
‘Someone’s standing there listening in to you? Is that it, Kate? Well, don’t bother to say anything, dear … I’m just sorry. I really thought we’d get Annabel away from Appleton this time. Never mind. We’ll have fun one way or another.’
‘You know the arrangements … there are three car loads coming from Appleton?’
‘I know, my dear. Billy Cricks came over bareback at the crack of dawn and told me. Since then there’ve been a stream of informers. Still, we’ll have fun.’
Kate hung up.
‘Well, what did she say?’ Mrs. Weston was leaning on her stick watching Kate intently.
‘She’s sorry about Annabel; and she says the more the merrier. She thinks we’ll have fun.’
‘Oh, she does, does she?’ said Mrs. Weston.
‘Don’t you think we’ll have fun?’ Kate asked suddenly. The older woman looked at her for a moment. Kate met her eyes firmly. Mrs. Weston turned away, shrugging her shoulders.
‘Well, it’s up to you young people …’
It was ten-thirty when they drove out of the main gate of Appleton and turned along the Blackwood River road back towards Blackwood. About eight miles farther on there was a turn-off to Forest Valley and then on about fifteen miles to the Salt Lakes. Kate rode with Hal and Mrs. Weston in the station waggon. She had Sugar on her knee and Judity sat behind with Baby. Mrs. Weston sat beside Hal. There was the silence of a funeral instead of the gaiety of a picnic.
At the Forest Valley turn-off Peg was sitting on a log waiting for them. She wore slacks, a brilliantly striped blouse, and a wide-brimmed straw hat.
‘Hullo, everyone!’ she said.
Hal said: ‘Howdy, mate, how are you doing?’
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’m doing fine.’
She climbed in the station waggon in the seat beside Kate.
‘When do we pick up the de Berhans’ party, Hal?’ Kate asked.
‘At the corner of their outback boundary.’
‘I think they’re bringing a horse for me,’ Kate said. ‘I want to get off there. Would anybody mind if I did that?’
There was a silence.
Then Peg spoke.
‘I mind, Kate. I was pleased as Punch to see you sitting here. And now you’re going to leave.’
‘Only for a little while. Mrs. de Berhans and I arranged it yesterday.’
‘You didn’t say anything about it to me,’ Mrs. Weston complained.
‘I thought Peg might be late … or go in one of the other cars … in which case you’d need me with the children. So I didn’t say anything.’
Hal remained silent. He had not said anything to Kate since he had brought her home from Arundel the evening before. Then, while he garaged the big car, Kate had walked towards the homestead. Hal did not overtake her, and she did not loiter. By common consent they had no more to say to one another. Or so it seemed.
At the Arundel boundary a horse party was eagerly awaiting the cars from Appleton. Mrs. de Berhans with her overseer, Strong, and the two boys were on horse-back. George, the younger boy, had a saddled horse on the lead.
‘Just your luck, Kate,’ Peg said, but without animosity. ‘See you later!’
Except for Peg, Kate had no compunction about leaving the Appleton party. It was not so much for her own sake either. She knew that Mrs. de Berhans had been sincere in her wish to give both Annabel and Kate an outing. And she agreed that Mrs. Weston was a blight on any party though she determined to say nothing about her hostess in this way.
They waited until the third of the Westons’ cars had raised its portion of dust along the de Groot track and then set off at a good canter.
‘This is the life, Kate!’ Mrs. de Berhans called gaily. It was indeed. The mounts were superbly trained. Strong, the overseer, acted as groom as well as guide and confidant. He rode after the manner of Bellew and Kate guessed he spent the greater part of every day in the saddle. Mrs. de Berhans was a good horsewoman but somewhat lacking in style. She was a happy rider and Kate felt as if they all might break into song any minute.
They certainly were having fun. They certainly were.
The track swerved around past the home paddock of the de Groot homestead … ‘a breed of bachelors’ Mrs. de Berhans called them. ‘And not one of them under fifty.’ At the corner of the last fence, where the track wound away into unfenced and unclaimed virgin forest
country, Mrs. Benallen was waiting on horseback. She exactly matched Mrs. de Berhans in figure, colouring and style. They might have been sisters.
‘Hail all!’ she called with stockwhip raised.
‘Howdy, mate?’ said young Ron de Berhans mischievously. ‘How you doin’?’
‘I’m doing fine, Ron. And how is everyone from Appleton and Arundel?’
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘Fine!’
Kate had the vaguest sense of disappointment. She wondered why Rick had not come, but she did not like to ask. However, one of the boys forestalled her.
‘Say, where’s Rick, Aunt Harriet?’ George asked.
‘He’s coming by plane,’ she answered merrily. Kate thought it was a joke. But no, the boys were obviously serious.
‘You don’t say! Did he go to Albany in the mail plane? Billy Cricks reckoned he saw him motoring in to catch it.’
‘That’s just what he did do, George,’ Mrs. Benallen said. She sidled her horse in alongside Kate.
‘I hear the whole Appleton party has come? Well, all the more fun in numbers … but nothing’s going to stop us riding round the Salt Lakes, Kate. Promise me?’
‘What are the Salt Lakes exactly?’
‘Just that. You’ll see in a minute. We’ll come through the last of the jarrah country in a minute, then it’s about three miles of low scrub country. Very unprepossessing. The salt in the depressions comes through. The lakes have a lovely hard salt rim … the world’s best riding ground.’
They cantered on, occasionally calling to one another.
Just as Mrs. Benallen said, the tree country came suddenly to an end and there stretched for miles the low scrubby bush-land.
In the distance a cloud of dust hovering over the track showed how far ahead of them were the cars.
‘What is the track for?’
‘It’s one of the back roads to Kattanup. It by-passes the lakes really.’
The sun streamed down and the heat here in the open country was quite different from Blackwood. It was dry, dusty and plagued with flies. The riders in front had thousands of flies on their backs. Kate supposed she had likewise. The track was sandy but straight.