by Lucy Walker
‘Good-night, Mrs. Benallen.’
‘Good-night, Kate. Sleep well, dear.’
Kate stole back to her room and sat on her bed peering out of the window. It was some time before she could discern the shadow within the shadows that was Bellew.
‘I can’t bear to let him down …’
Then resolution came to her. She changed her soft felt slippers for a pair of light shoes … a protection against the dew, and opened the long french windows on to the veranda. She wrapped her dressing-gown round her tight and stepped out, across the veranda and on to the lawn.
‘Bellew!’ she called softly. ‘Bellew!’
He came out from the pines, walking in a slow, dignified, yet rolling gait across the lawn. He stood in front of Kate, towering over her, twiddling his hat in his hands, yet for all the world like a frightened schoolboy.
‘Bellew, what’s the easiest way to get to Kattanup?’
‘The big car, madam.’
‘Or any of the cars for that matter … but I can’t do it. They’d never lend me one of the cars. Also … Hal wouldn’t calmly give me Chester. How long does it take to ride … by the back road … that is the shortest, isn’t it?’
‘Two and a half hours, madam … on a fast horse.’
‘Is Roany in the paddock? Could you get him in first thing in the morning … or better still, to-night, and saddle him up first thing in the morning?’
‘Roany? Were you thinking of riding Roany, madam? You couldn’t manage Mr. Weston’s horse, madam. He’s as bad as his master. He ruins his horses. That is what he will do to Chester. He will break him in one week-end.’
‘I can ride Roany if I am with you, Bellew. You must come with me. We will go to Kattanup and simply swop the two horses … we won’t ask Hal. Then, if Annabel comes back on Monday I’m going away. It won’t matter what they say … or do about it. I won’t be here.’
Bellew was silent.
‘Darkie might be better, madam … even Becca.’
‘No, it’s got to be Roany … if the worst came to the worst and Hal was difficult he might swop with Roany … but never with any other horse. But we’ll try and just take one and leave the other … without asking him.’
Bellew’s hands were trembling and his head was nodding as if he were palsied. Kate put her hand out on his arm.
‘Don’t worry, Bellew. We’ll get Chester back.’
‘Mr. Benallen, madam?’
‘He’ll have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch us, Bellew.’
She said good-night and went back to her room. She stood by the window and watched the boundary rider crossing the lawn and disappear into the orchard round the side of the house.
Kate got into bed again. She was too restless to fall asleep. It seemed of doubtful merit to be taking an Appleton horse and be riding off with their boundary rider to kidnap another Appleton horse. Yet she owed Bellew more than she owed the Westons. Would they punish him later … in their own obscure way? They had a genius for obscurity and for meting out punishment. Kate began to have doubts not only about the merit of the plan but about its ultimate success.
‘They have only to take Chester away at some later date …’
Then, horridly, came the recollection of Annabel’s children.
‘I promised her … and Peg isn’t even here to take over. Oh damn!’
There was nothing for it but she would have to wait for Peg and Rick Benallen to come. Please God, they would come early enough, and please God, Rick would not try to dissuade her. Perhaps he would come too?
But that was wishful thinking … and she wished her heart wouldn’t thud and bump about the way it was doing.
Kate dozed off and woke about three hours later to the sound of the outside veranda wire door banging. No one but a Weston allowed the door to bang behind them like that! Uncle Harry?
Kate heard heavy boots pounding about in the region of the kitchen veranda. There was a glow through the passage doorway which meant lights were on. The kitchen wire door was banged too.
It wasn’t Uncle Harry … he had worn soft shoes after dinner. That clumping came from field boots.
The passage light was switched on and someone padded softly out in the region of the kitchen. Mrs. Weston!
Then voices … angry raised voices. Then a child’s frail cry.
Kate jumped out of bed and, slipping her gown and slippers on, went down the passage to the night nursery. Baby was sitting up in her cot.
Kate lit the night light and sat down by the cot. She soothed Baby and let the child hold her finger. The noise of voices, banging doors, had woken the child. But the light made all things familiar … especially those raised voices. One of them was Hal’s.
What was Hal doing back again … and at three o’clock in the morning?
Kate sat on beside the cot. The little girl watched her with drowsy eyes, one finger of Kate’s clenched tightly in her hand, two of her own fingers in her mouth. Kate left those comforting fingers where they were. Annabel … or even Judity … would have slapped them away.
‘Poor little mite …’ Kate said. ‘You’ve got so much … and yet so little.’
The voices outside went on for a long time, and Uncle Harry’s was added to Hal’s.
Presently Mrs. Weston came along the passage and peered into the night nursery.
‘What? That child awake? I knew this would happen if Annabel went away. She’s never woken up the night before. Now none of us will get any rest.’
‘She’s asleep now,’ Kate said gently. ‘I’ll go back to bed in a minute. It wasn’t naughtiness … it was the wire doors banging behind Hal. They woke me up too …’
‘Of course that’s Hal all over …’ Mrs. Weston said, coming close to the cot. Kate quickly lifted the coverlet high over the baby’s mouth. She knew Mrs. Weston wouldn’t pass the two comforting fingers in the child’s mouth.
‘Ssh!’ said Kate. ‘She’s asleep now. If we want a night’s sleep we had better leave her.’
Mrs. Weston tiptoed, in her lopsided fashion, to the door.
‘You heard Hal come home?’ she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Stranded out on the back road nearly all day! Not a single car through the whole time … neither coming or going …’
Mrs. Weston did not meet Kate’s eyes. She was on the defensive more than offensive.
‘How was Hal stranded?’
The kitchen wire door banged. Field boots clattered around the veranda and Hal came into the passage. There was a small tear near the shoulder of his shirt. He looked at Kate with raised eyebrows. He had a lump of cold lamb jammed between two slices of bread in one hand and a steaming pint cup in the other.
‘Reception Committee?’
‘Ssh! Keep quiet,’ Mrs. Weston said. ‘You’ve already woken the child once with that noise. Why can’t you shut a door behind you, Hal?’
He didn’t answer her but went on looking at Kate … a large lump of cold meat and bread in one cheek, the enormous cup raised to his mouth while he sipped.
‘Why have you come back, Hal?’
Uncle Harry stamped up the passage.
‘You might well ask him,’ he said. ‘I wish your father was alive, young fellow … he’d take a gun to you …’
So Uncle Harry could hear when he wanted to …?
‘What is the matter, Hal?’ Kate persisted.
Hal shrugged.
‘The bloody horse pig-rooted and threw me. Twenty miles from anywhere and not a damned car through till about an hour and a half ago.’
‘What happened to the horse?’
‘What do you think? You don’t leave a horse lying about with a broken leg! He’s dead.’
Kate felt as if he had given her a blow across the face.
‘Hal, you killed Chester?’
‘Well, I didn’t pull the trigger, if it comes to that. Alan Castillon finished the job … but I gave the order. You always shoot a broken-legged horse.’
He too
k another bite and another sip of tea.
Kate stood in shattered silence.
Then she looked at Mrs. Weston. Then at Uncle Harry. For once there was no mask on anybody’s face. They were all shocked … and all afraid for Bellew.
‘Uncle Harry?’ Kate said. ‘Is that true? Do you have to kill a horse with a broken leg?’
He nodded.
‘Most times, Kate. Specially if the horse is away from home. They couldn’t fix him there where he was.’
‘What does pig-rooting mean, Hal?’
‘Stuck his leg in a rabbit warren.’
‘In my day it meant throwing a bad rider over his head,’ Mrs. Weston said with a snort.
‘You go to bed, Mum,’ Hal said. ‘You can’t do any good jawing all night.’
‘Where’ve you put that Castillon? Burns, I suppose, has gone to his own cottage?’
‘Castillon’s down in the jam house,’ Hal said. ‘I told him to lie quiet. I don’t want him seen round here. He’s not supposed to have been in Blackwood since last Sunday.’
‘Why?’ Kate said.
‘Listen, Kate, you go to bed, will you? This is men’s talk … you wouldn’t understand.’
‘I understand you took Bellew’s horse. You took a horse you knew couldn’t or wouldn’t stand the way you ride. And you’ve killed the horse …’
Kate suddenly felt weary. She passed her hand over her head. ‘To-morrow I’ll start and understand why Alan Castillon had to do the shooting and why Alan Castillon is not supposed to be in Blackwood … but I suspect you didn’t want to shoot Chester yourself, Hal … so that when you told Bellew you wouldn’t have to admit to too much guilt.’
‘That horse is not Bellew’s horse …’ Mrs. Weston began.
‘Oh, go to bed,’ said Uncle Harry. He stumped off along the cross passage. Kate ran after him.
‘Uncle Harry, please? Where is Bellew sleeping, do you know?’
‘Down the bunk house.’
‘Not with Burns? Or near Alan Castillon?’
‘No, the other side of the saddling paddock.’
‘Don’t let Hal tell Bellew …’
‘I’m taking the gun down to the cockatoos in the morning. I’ll tell him.’
Kate turned back towards her own room. She stopped by Hal and his mother.
‘Good-night, Mrs. Weston. Good-night, Hal.’
She went up to her own room. She got back into bed and lay with her hands under her head and waited for daylight.
She dozed on and off but was wide awake when the sky grew pale and the stars faded out. It was incredible that light should come so soon. Like pulling up a blind. One minute it was black night with an inky sky and ten minutes later it was daylight. Five more minutes and the sun came up.
Kate was already in her dress. She pulled on a jacket against the early morning chill and tiptoed down the passage. Uncle Harry had taken the gun always left loaded inside the kitchen door. He would be already in the orchard.
Kate ran along the kitchen path, through the pine grove to the top of the orchard. Down at the bottom she could see Uncle Harry sitting on an upturned box, his shotgun across his knee. Then far away Kate heard the cockatoos. A wild squealing like a host of ghosts edged on the morning air … faint and far away. Then she could see them coming … rank upon rank of black cockatoos. As they came overhead … millions and millions of them, they screamed again. Loud, shrill and bloodcurdling. Kate could see the red under the black wings. Uncle Harry cocked his shotgun and fired. One cockatoo detached itself and came fluffily but strangely silent … still as a stone, to the earth. Uncle Harry was reloading when Kate saw Bellew leading his bay gelding into the saddling paddock. She ran towards Uncle Harry, and as she ran she noticed that the flock of birds had wheeled, hovered a minute over the orchard … then when Uncle Harry fired again had fled screaming on their way.
Uncle Harry reloaded and propped the gun against the box.
‘That’s settled ’em,’ he said. ‘They know there’s someone here meaning business. They won’t come back this morning.’
‘Uncle Harry …’ Kate said. ‘Look … there’s Bellew. We must tell him.’
‘What? What did you say, Kate?’
He cupped his hand over his ear. With dismay Kate saw he had not put on his hearing aid. She grasped his arm.
‘Come on …’ she said.
She half pulled, half guided Uncle Harry between the trees until he himself could see Bellew saddling up by the hitching rail.
‘Oh …’ he said. ‘Oh well! I suppose someone’s got to tell him. Why not wait till after breakfast?’
Kate started to tell him they had to tell Bellew before Hal did, then she remembered he couldn’t or wouldn’t hear.
She dropped his arm and walked quickly towards the orchard fence. From down the drive she could hear the rattle and zoom of a motor engine. A little cloud of dust was rising down by the big gates. In a minute it became the jeep.
‘Rick!’ she thought. ‘Thank goodness he has come.’ She would have waited until Rick and Peg had joined her now, but Bellew, at this minute, lifted his head and saw her. Something in her face … or in her dress … told him she was not coming with him. His hands on the saddle straps began to tremble. Kate walked slowly towards him. He wouldn’t look at her.
If only Rick would hurry! If only she hadn’t hurried so much herself. How was she to know whether it mattered very much to them that Hal had taken Bellew’s beloved horse?
Bellew’s head began to shake.
Kate was close to him now.
‘Bellew … I … Bellew, there isn’t any need to go.’
Over on the other side of the paddock the jeep had stopped and two figures were getting out of it. Kate looked miserably across at them. They were at least four hundred yards away. She had to speak … to say something.
‘Bellew … please look at me.’
He lifted his head as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He turned his almost sightless eyes on Kate. And that seemed as if it took a terrible effort.
‘Bellew, you know?’
His head shook.
Kate put her hand on his arm.
Would Rick never get here?
‘Bellew … Chester … is …’
Their eyes met.
‘He’s dead.’
Kate bent her head. Her eyes filled with tears and they fell down her cheeks. Never in all her life had she felt so utterly, so intolerably sad. She did not weep for Chester but for Bellew.
Rick was running the last few yards now. He put his hand on the fence post and vaulted the fence.
‘Kate, what is it?’
He was on the other side of the horse and he looked at the two standing there. Bellew wasn’t trembling any more. He was looking at the girl.
‘Bellew …!’ Rick said sharply. The boundary rider did not stir. Uncle Harry caught up with them all at last.
‘Oh, there you are, Rick. I suppose you’ve heard … there’s the devil to pay over that horse. Hal had to have it shot, of course.’
‘Shot? Chester?’
The words reverberated through the air like shots themselves.
Bellew looked wildly round. He looked at Uncle Harry … looked at his empty hands … then he turned and ran down the orchard.
‘Where’s he gone?’ Uncle Harry seemed a little bewildered.
‘Where’s your gun?’ Rick asked sharply.
‘Down at the bottom … left it on the box.’
Peg was climbing through the wire fence and Rick turned and pushed her back.
‘Get through, Peg. Get out of here and take Kate.’ He turned to Kate.
‘Come on, Peaches,’ he said more gently. ‘Get cracking … out of here. I’ll look after Bellew.’
‘But why …?’
‘He’s gone for that gun. When people like Bellew crack they generally run amok. Now get out and quick. Peg, I’ll leave Kate to you … hustle off.’
Half pulling Kate, Peg made off across the c
orner of the paddock so that they’d come into the pine grove just below the jam house. In a few minutes they were through the wire fence and hidden from the lower orchard by the high creepers around the jam house and the trellis work between it and the pine grove.
‘Stay here, Kate,’ Peg said. ‘Don’t move. If you hear anyone … anyone at all … get down in those creepers. I’ll scout out and see if Rick and Uncle Harry have got Bellew before he does something silly with that gun.’
She hadn’t finished speaking when there was the sound of a shot from the lower orchard.
‘It’s only a shotgun,’ Peg said soothingly. ‘Can’t do much with that. I wonder who he potted then.’
Peg crept away in the direction of the first row of apple trees. She turned.
‘Coast’s clear … scram for the homestead,’ she said.
From behind, however, Kate heard heavy boots. She dived down into the creepers.
From the other side of the jam house Alan Castillon came walking towards her. He was looking beyond the creeper into the orchard. At the same moment there came a whistling behind him. Alan turned and said, ‘Hullo, Hal! What the blinkin’ hell are you doing sneaking up on a feller like that?’
Kate could not see Hal, but she heard him.
‘Get in that jam house, you bloody fool. I told you to keep out of sight. The whole gang of ’em’s down the orchard.’
Boots came crashing up between the avenue of trees. Someone was dodging and running … dodging and running. Bellew came out on the rise and saw Castillon and Hal. Alan Castillon, who had his head turned speaking to Hal, did not see Bellew stop and aim. Hal must have dodged or dropped to the ground but Alan Castillon turned and moved forward and walked straight into the fire. He dropped where he stood.
Bellew vaulted the fence, was back in the saddling paddock. He twisted back along the fence and took a flying leap on to the bay horse. A minute later it was thrashing the stubble from under his hoofs, Bellew sailed over the fence into the drive and became a cloud of dust on the long drive out of Appleton.
Rick and Uncle Harry were coming up the orchard slowly now. Kate saw them. Uncle Harry was holding his arm. Only then did she decide she felt a little faint.
It only lasted a minute, for when she opened her eyes Hal was bending over Alan Castillon.