Sadie kept quiet.
Lachie heaved a sigh. ‘Anyway . . . You going to give me that game of pool some time?’
‘Um, yeah. Sure.’
‘How about right now? Better than watching the Magpies get belted again.’
‘Now?’ squeaked Sadie. ‘But we’re in Wycheproof!’
‘They have pool tables in Wycheproof, you know.’ The corners of Lachie’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. He had the bluest eyes. ‘But yeah, you’re right, they might not let us into the pub. Not you, anyway. How old are you?’
‘Fourteen,’ said Sadie. ‘Practically.’ She was mortified.
‘Yeah? Seriously?’ Lachie kicked the fence again; the whole length of wire vibrated. ‘BALL!’ he yelled without warning. ‘Oh, crap. BALL! I can’t watch this,’ he said abruptly. He turned his back and dug his hands into his pockets. ‘I’m going home.’
Sadie stared. ‘Your dad won’t leave, will he? Isn’t he the president of the club or something?’
‘I don’t need Dad. I’ve got my bike. Come and look.’ He strode away without a backward glance. Sadie followed, prepared to admire any old bicycle if it belonged to Lachie.
‘There,’ said Lachie proudly. It wasn’t a bicycle; it was a trail bike. ‘It’s new. Birthday present.’
‘Wow,’ said Sadie. ‘Don’t you have to be eighteen to ride one of those?’
Lachie grinned. ‘Not on private property. I can ride it round the farm as much as I want.’
‘But – we’re not on the farm now.’
‘Nah. But who’s going to arrest me? The police round here all know me.’ He patted the seat. ‘Want a ride?’
Sadie swallowed. ‘I don’t think my mum . . .’
The scowl reappeared on Lachie’s face. ‘Well, if Mummy won’t let you . . .’
‘Where would we go?’ said Sadie hastily.
Lachie shrugged. ‘I dunno. Know anywhere worth going?’
‘What about your lake?’
‘My lake? Yeah, jeez, it’s great, isn’t it. Real tourist attraction.’
‘What about the stones?’
The words were out of her mouth before she could call them back. Far off in the distance, she heard a crow’s mournful cry. Waaa-waaah . . .
Lachie frowned. ‘What stones?’
‘There’s a circle of stones – big ones, with carvings . . .’ Sadie’s voice faltered.
‘Yeah? Where?’ Lachie was interested now. ‘Can you show me?’
‘I – I guess.’
‘I’ll bring you back before your mum even knows you’re gone,’ said Lachie. ‘You can wear my helmet.’ He held it out enticingly, a round black fishbowl. Sadie lowered it onto her head and staggered under its weight. She thought her neck might snap; she could barely see. Lachie laughed. ‘I hate wearing that thing! I don’t need it anyway. Up you get.’
A moment’s scramble, and Sadie found herself on Lachie Mortlock’s motorbike, her arms round his waist, her thighs wedged against his. She could feel him breathe; she could feel his muscles ripple as he moved. Please God, don’t let me fall off, she prayed, not because she was afraid of getting hurt, but because it would be so humiliating.
Lachie revved the engine and then they were speeding down a dirt track, bumping over ruts. Trees flashed past; paddocks streamed by in a blur.
Sadie’s arms ached, her bum felt bruised. Ellie would surely notice she was missing; she’d be in trouble again. The noisy drone of the engine vibrated through her head.
At last they reached the lake. Clots of yellow mud spurted under the bike’s wheels. Lachie yelled something, but she couldn’t hear. She guessed he was asking directions, and she flung out her arm. He swerved the bike, and Sadie leaned, terrified, almost parallel with the ground. Lachie straightened the bike, and though she couldn’t hear it, she knew he was laughing by the way his ribs vibrated under her hands.
She managed to indicate the cluster of dead trees that surrounded the hollow. Lachie drew up the bike and killed the engine. Sadie clambered down, her knees knocking. She lifted off the helmet and suddenly she could see and hear and breathe again.
‘There,’ she said shakily.
Lachie walked up to the ring of stones. He peered at one, then another. He walked slowly right around the circle.
‘Holy crap,’ he said softly. ‘I never knew this was here. I never saw them before. Looks like an old burial site or something.’
‘Not a burial site,’ said Sadie, surprised by her own certainty. ‘It’s not for that.’
‘Yeah? What’s it for, then?’
A secret place. A story place, the crow had said. ‘I – I don’t know,’ said Sadie.
Her legs shook; her whole body was racked with shudders. She wrapped her arms round herself. Maybe she had motion sickness from the swooping journey on the bike. She was terrified she might throw up. She never should have brought Lachie here; she should have protected the secret. Crow’s place.
‘Lachie,’ she said, with sudden desperation. ‘Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this place.’
‘Secret women’s business, is it? Secret men’s business? Secret kids’ business?’ He was laughing at her. Then his face softened. ‘Okay, mate. It’s your special place, is it? I won’t tell anyone.’
Not my special place, thought Sadie. It belongs to the crows. But she didn’t say it aloud.
Lachie tipped up her chin and gazed into her eyes. Sadie thought she might faint. ‘So now it’s our special place, okay? Our secret?’
Sadie nodded. She could hear crows cawing angrily somewhere in the distance, but she didn’t care. Her heart was singing; she had a secret to share with Lachie Mortlock.
They were back just in time to see the Wyche- proof Narraport Demons defeat the Boort Magpies by five goals. The Wycheproof crowd whooped and whistled and flourished their blue- and-red scarves; the Boort supporters wound their black-and-white scarves round their necks and hunched into them. They dispersed swiftly, jangling their keys and muttering, ‘See you back at the pub.’ The slam of car doors reverberated round the oval, and a line of vehicles soon streamed down the Boort road.
Ellie squeezed Sadie’s shoulders. ‘What happened to you? I couldn’t find you at half time.’
‘Hanging out with some kids,’ mumbled Sadie.
‘Oh good! I knew you’d make friends if you kept trying. Well, I don’t mind sharing you if I have to.’ Ellie checked her watch. ‘I told David to be at our place at six. I thought we could take him to dinner at the pub.’
Sadie turned away to hide a sudden smile. Lachie would be at the pub. Maybe tonight they’d play that game of pool. Maybe he’d call out, Hey, Sadie! for everyone to hear. Maybe he’d throw his arm around her shoulder and draw her inside the charmed circle in the pool annexe, and she’d become one of the gang. After this afternoon, anything seemed possible . . .
But Sadie’s heart dropped when Walter sidled through their front door behind David. Now she’d be expected to look after him instead of hanging out with Lachie. She could tell Ellie hadn’t expected Walter either, from the extra-warm smile she put on when she saw him, and the way she ushered him into the living room with her hand on his back. ‘Isn’t this lovely!’ she said brightly.
Walter stared at the carpet.
‘I thought we’d go down to the pub! We had a great meal, didn’t we, Sadie? Local sausages and steak, and the chips were to die for. It’s the place to be in Boort on a Saturday night. Not that there’s a massive amount of competition . . .’
David hesitated. ‘If you want to.’ He glanced at Walter and Sadie. ‘Would you guys rather stay here?’
Ellie punched his arm. ‘Of course they’ll come! Are you trying to get me on my own? Is that your cunning plan?’
Walter muttered, ‘I don’t care.’
‘I want to come,’ said Sadie, glaring.
David’s shoulders twitched inside his leather jacket in the slightest of shrugs. ‘Okay.’
Sadie and Walter walked in
silence behind David and Ellie along the darkened road. The steady chirp of the frogs floated to them from the lake’s edge. David had his arm round Ellie’s waist, and fragments of conversation floated back to the others.
‘. . . thought it would take ages to fit in,’ Ellie was saying. ‘But everyone’s been so friendly.’
‘Because you had family here . . .’ David mur- mured. ‘. . . not really strangers . . .’
‘I feel as if we really belong here, you know? Like we’ve come home.’
Speak for yourself, thought Sadie, but then she remembered Lachie, and a glow of warmth melted her bitterness away. Maybe, just maybe, one day Boort might feel like home to her, too.
Just past the war memorial lay the low silhouette of what used to be the Hazzards’ shop. A sudden wave of giddiness washed over Sadie and she stumbled.
‘You okay?’ said Walter.
‘Yeah. Just tripped on a stone.’
The pub was bright and noisy, filled with drinkers and music and the smell of beer. A fire roared in the back bar, and the jukebox blared from the annexe where the pool table stood. Sadie could just hear the click of balls through the hubbub, and a distant whoar! as someone potted a tricky shot.
Heads turned as they entered. That always hap- pened when someone came into the pub. Then people would either smile and nod g’day, or if they didn’t know you, they’d turn back and resume their conversation.
But Sadie realised immediately that something was different. People looked round. They stopped talk- ing. They stared, and their neighbours turned to stare too. Sadie felt as if the whole pub had fallen silent, watching them.
‘I’ll get the drinks.’ Ellie bounced up to the bar as if she hadn’t noticed anything wrong.
David shrugged off his leather jacket and hooked it on his finger. ‘Warm in here, eh?’
Walter ducked his head and stuck to David’s side like a burr. Sadie’s heart was thumping. The noise level hadn’t dropped much; she knew that everyone in the pub couldn’t have gone quiet, but she felt as if a spotlight had been trained onto their little group of two white females and two black males. Craig Mortlock muttered something, and someone sniggered, and though Sadie couldn’t hear what he’d said, her face burned.
‘Two beers and two lemonades,’ announced Ellie, her hands full of glasses. ‘It’s a bit quieter in the back bar, why don’t we look at the menu in there?’
Her chin was up. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. Sadie knew that her mother had noticed the stares and the muttering.
Once they’d left the front bar, the hum of conversation and laughter rose again. They perched on the two worn leather couches in front of the fireplace, and Sadie gazed unseeing at a menu. The print swam before her eyes. David murmured to Ellie, and Ellie said loudly, ‘I’m okay if you are.’
‘I’m okay,’ said David. He sipped his beer, surveying the room over the rim of his glass. His eyes caught Sadie’s, and he gave her a swift wink. Sadie found herself smiling back. Her heart stopped thudding; when she looked down at the menu again, the print sprang into focus.
‘I’m having the sausages,’ she said. ‘The sausages are really excellent.’
‘Didn’t you have a sausage at the footy?’ protested Ellie.
‘No,’ said Sadie. ‘Anyway, it wouldn’t count. They’re practically different food groups. These sausages have actual meat in them.’
David laughed. ‘Sausages sound good.’ He spread his arms across the back of the couch and stuck his boots up on the low table. He didn’t care if people muttered and stared; he knew he had as much right to be there as anyone. He looked strong, invincible, like a warrior.
Suddenly Sadie wanted to show him that she could be as brave and bold as he was. She jumped up. ‘Want a game of pool?’ she asked Walter.
Walter glanced at David. David gave a slight nod. Walter stood up and followed Sadie, his hands jammed in his pockets, his head down.
The annexe was almost empty. No one was playing. The whole gang was outside in the beer garden, gathered round Troy, looking at something. A gust of laughter exploded from them, and for a second Sadie wished she were out there with them all, standing beside Lachie, included in the joke. She heard Jules’s scornful cry, ‘Get lost, Fox!’ and everyone sang ooooh!
‘Do you want to play or what?’ said Walter.
Sadie turned her back on the gang and racked up the balls. Walter watched her, hands in his pockets.
‘Grab a cue,’ said Sadie, and when he didn’t move, she tossed him one. ‘We don’t have to play if you don’t want to.’
Walter shrugged. ‘I don’t care.’
‘Do you know how?’
He shrugged again. ‘Sort of.’
Sadie explained the rules and took first shot, but she missed and the ball ricocheted uselessly off the cushion. Walter hefted his cue awkwardly onto the table, lined up and thrust. The ball shot straight into the pocket.
Sadie gaped. ‘I thought you couldn’t play!’
‘Thought wrong, didn’t ya,’ said Walter with a grin, and lined up his next shot.
Sadie didn’t even notice that the gang had trooped back inside until Jules tapped her on the shoulder and jerked her thumb. ‘You kids – off.’
‘We’re nearly finished,’ said Sadie.
‘You are finished. Now.’
Sadie glimpsed Lachie at the back of the room, one foot propped against the wall, his head lowered. ‘We’ll only be a minute,’ she said.
Lachie glanced up, and for one glorious moment Sadie thought he was going to stride over and pull Jules away. Leave her alone, guys. Because I say so. Lachie smiling down, their eyes meeting, just like this afternoon, only this time everyone would see . . .
Lachie pushed himself off the wall and strolled to the pool table. ‘Come on, kids,’ he drawled. ‘You heard Jules. Your turn is over.’ He didn’t even look at Sadie; he was staring at Walter.
Walter didn’t move. His eyes were down, his hands wrapped round the cue. Maybe he thought if he ignored them they would go away.
Lachie leaned forward. He tried to prise the cue from Walter’s fingers. ‘Did you hear me? I said, get lost.’
Walter didn’t let go. He raised his head and stared into Lachie’s eyes. ‘You should watch out, mate,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Bad things happen to people who piss me off.’
‘Is that right?’ said Lachie.
Walter smiled. ‘Didn’t you hear about what I did in Mildura? Put a policeman in hospital.’
‘Yeah, sure you did.’
Walter leaned forward. ‘With the power of my mind.’
‘Bull,’ said Lachie, uncertainly.
Walter shrugged. ‘You believe what you want. I put a curse on this guy. They reckon he might learn to walk again by Christmas. If he’s lucky.’
‘You’re full of it,’ said Lachie. But he let go of the cue.
Walter tossed it onto the table. ‘We were finished anyway.’
‘No, we weren’t!’ said Sadie. ‘This isn’t fair!’
‘Life’s not fair.’ Jules wrenched Sadie’s cue from her. ‘Go on, piss off with your abo boyfriend.’
A ripple of nervous laughter ran around the annexe. Sadie heard someone mutter something-lover.
‘Like her mother,’ murmured someone else.
‘What?’ Sadie swung round, clenching her hands into fists. ‘What did you say?’
‘C’mon, Sadie,’ said Walter. ‘They’re not worth it.’
Lachie slung a cue across his shoulders, hooked his arms over it and swaggered around the table. Troy whispered to Fox and they sniggered together.
Walter suddenly lunged for them, wiggling his fingers and making spooky noises, and they both jumped back, swearing.
Walter snorted. ‘See you round, tough guys.’
Sadie followed him out of the annexe. She was almost crying with rage. ‘Don’t you just want to hit them?’
Walter shrugged. ‘Nah. There’re better ways.’
‘You didn’t – you didn’t really curse that man, did you?’
Walter didn’t answer, but he threw her a look over his shoulder and raised one eyebrow.
David and Ellie were still sitting by the fire. They weren’t speaking. David was drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch, and Ellie’s lips were pressed together.
Ellie attempted a smile. ‘Who won?’
‘We did,’ said Walter.
David stood up. ‘They’re calling our number. Let’s eat.’
They left as soon as the meal was finished. ‘No point paying for coffee when I can make one just as good at home,’ said Ellie; but Sadie knew the real reason was that they all wanted to escape as quickly as possible.
Sadie would have liked to go to bed; it had felt like the longest day of her life. But she couldn’t because Walter was there. They sat staring at the football on TV while Ellie and David disappeared into the kitchen to make the coffee.
After a few minutes Walter said, without taking his eyes from the screen, ‘They’re arguing.’
‘What?’ Sadie shot an alarmed glance toward the sliding door that separated the living room from the kitchen. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
Walter stared at the TV. Sadie slipped out of her chair and tiptoed to the door.
She heard Ellie’s voice, a little shriller than normal. ‘That’s ridiculous! That was years ago.’
Then David’s voice, slightly louder. ‘So what do you think was going on tonight?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? You – and me – some people have trouble with it, you must know that by now.’
‘Sure, but there’s more to it than that in this town. I didn’t want to go to the bloody pub in the first place.’
‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ Ellie’s voice rose.
Crow Country Page 5