Daintree

by Annie Seaton

  Maybe.

  She insisted on being dropped at George’s. Jeremy wasn’t keen but she convinced him she was okay, and asked him to take Wilma’s box to the park for her in the morning.

  ‘I’ll see you in the morning then. I’ll get George to bring me into town.’ Emma shut the car door firmly and waited for Jeremy to drive off.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come across the river with you? I could spend the night, just to keep an eye on you, of course?’ Despite the concern in his voice, Jeremy’s eyes were dancing.

  Emma put the trembling of her knees down to the incident with her car. ‘I’m quite sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll wait till you’re across the river.’

  ‘No. I’m fine.’

  ‘Yes, Doctor Em.’ That all too familiar grin flashed again as Jeremy lifted his hand and drove off slowly.

  Emma stood for a long time watching the tail-lights until they disappeared, then she climbed into the punt and headed towards Crooked Cottage.

  Chapter 23

  Saturday morning

  Dalrymple Park—Rainbow Day

  Emma had a restless night. Flashes of car accident victims she had treated in emergency and the possible injuries she could have sustained—or worse—if she’d not been able to slow down came to her every time she closed her eyes. The only way to block it was to remember Jeremy’s gentle hands as he’d examined her. When she finally went to sleep, she dreamed that Wilma was in the car with her and woke up in the early hours covered in a lather of perspiration. She was sure she’d heard a vehicle and a plane after that but when she’d got up and peered through the kitchen window there was no sign of anything over the river. Whether it was a dream or just an overactive imagination, whatever it was had her seeing shadows wherever she went.

  The third time she woke it was after seven and she shot out of bed and hurried around getting ready. Emma dug deep into the wardrobe and found her favourite long white pants and a short-sleeved red top. A shell necklace and a pair of dangly earrings, a spray of perfume and she was ready. She would be much later getting into town then she’d planned.

  George had no problem lending her his old beat-up ute to get there.

  ‘Just treat the old girl, gently.’ He grinned at her. She felt a rush of affection. George was wearing a pair of blue-striped flannel pyjamas. He’d healed well and his bruises were almost gone, but his cheeks were unshaven. ‘I’ll grab a lift in later, if I decide to come in.’

  ‘You have to come. The whole district will be there.’ Emma took the keys and climbed up into the old ute. ‘Ugh, what’s that smell?’

  His grin got wider. ‘I picked up a dead roo yesterday.’

  Emma leaned out the window. ‘Don’t you dare think about eating it. How many times do I have to tell you about the parasites and diseases?’ George just grinned at her and she shook her head. ‘I’ll see you in town.’

  ‘We’ll see. Too many people for me in one place.’

  The smell of brewing coffee tickled Emma’s nose as she parked the ute in the hospital car park and walked to the end of the main street. The highway was gridlocked with traffic as locals, tourists and passers-by fought for the few remaining car parks. Rainbow Day was becoming more popular each year and she knew that by mid-morning the highway would have cars parked all the way across the bridge to the north side of town. The large park was at the end of the main street and fronted the highway along one side. She loved these days and she loved this town. The way the community pulled together never failed to impress her.

  She was pleased to see that Jeff’s team had set up the tents and all of the stalls were open and stocked with a variety of fresh produce, preserves and craft goods. There were already queues at most of them as people vied for the best deals of the day. The first half of the day was for the stalls. The organised events didn’t begin until lunchtime.

  She knew she’d find Jeff and Cissy in the coffee tent. They always manned the portable coffee machine that the local church used to raise funds. She lifted the flap and poked her head in. ‘Sorry I’m so late, guys. Jeff, you’ve done a great job. Clever move putting the coffee near the kids’ stuff.’

  ‘Thanks. We had lots willing helpers, and yes many happy parents are keeping us busy.’ Jeff’s voice was concerned. ‘Are you okay? Jeremy was here at sun up and he told us what happened.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it later. I’d love a coffee when you get a chance, please, Cissy. No rush. Double shot.’ She was going to need an energy boost to see the day out. ‘Do you guys need a hand?’

  ‘No, all good here. Come back in five and I’ll have it ready,’ Cissy called over her shoulder.

  Emma wandered around, pleased to see how many stalls there were this year. Forming a committee to organise the day had been the best thing she’d ever done. Last year, she had run herself ragged. This year the load was shared.

  ‘Coffee’s ready, Em.’ Cissy called her as she walked back to the tent. ‘Can you give me a hand for half an hour?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Emma closed her eyes and inhaled the coffee that Cissy handed to her. ‘No problem. Where’s Jeff?’

  ‘There’s a problem with the PA system. He won’t be long, I hope.’ She rubbed a hand over her eyes and flicked a glance at the long queue.

  ‘You make the coffee and I’ll take the orders,’ Emma said.

  ‘Thanks, you’re a doll. Coffees are all four dollars, and cakes and biscuits are two dollars each. The paper bags are under the till.’

  Emma worked steadily, taking orders and slipping slices of homemade cake and biscuits into the small white bags until there was a bit of a lull in the queue. She chatted to the locals, and many of her patients walked over to say hello. Her tiredness lifted and she began to enjoy herself.

  ‘Phew, that was busy.’ She picked up and drank the last of her now-cold coffee.

  ‘Thanks, Em. Really appreciate it. I’ll make you another one.’

  The flap at the back of the tent lifted and Jeff slipped under.

  ‘Hi, darling. All sorted?’ Cissy went over and hugged her husband and Emma waited by the counter.

  ‘Sorry, I took so long. All fixed now. It was a simple fix but bloody Sergeant Smith held me up. He thinks he’s in charge today and he’s changed all the order of the events this afternoon.’

  ‘I’ll go and see what I can sort out. Thanks, Jeff. Like I said, you guys have done an awesome job.’

  Cissy came back over to the counter. ‘Thanks for your help, Em. You still feeling okay?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘What time’s the tug-of-war?’ Cissy called out as Emma walked away.

  ‘It was three o’clock.’ Emma smiled. ‘I’ll check there’s been no change. I hope everyone has their teams sorted.’

  She wandered through the crowd sipping her coffee, returning smiles and stopping for the occasional chat. The last stall of the first row was particularly busy and she caught a glimpse of a long white braid as the woman behind the counter turned to reach for a jar on the makeshift shelf at the side of the front table.

  ‘Wilma!’

  ‘Hello, Emma.’ Wilma’s smile was wide today and her skin colour was good.

  Emma wrinkled her nose as the pleasant smells mixed around her.

  An array of soaps, salves and small bottles were lined neatly on the table.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Emma glanced up at the sign above the counter. Daintree Delights. Natural Remedies.

  ‘I’ve almost sold out of soap.’ Wilma’s lined face was bright with happiness.

  ‘You look much better.’ Emma smiled as she reached for a dark bottle with a colourful label.

  ‘Took my medication like you said.’

  ‘Mr Bogeyman? And The Monster Cure?’ Emma chuckled as she read the labels on the small bottles.

  ‘Gets rid of bad dreams for the little ones.’ Wilma’s smile widened as Emma picked up a pink bottle. ‘That’s sold well too.’

>   Emma put it to her nose and sniffed. ‘Lavender Oil Love Potion? Smells good.’

  Wilma tapped the side of her nose. ‘Lavender oil and a secret ingredient. Might give you a bottle.’

  Emma put the bottle down with a chuckle.

  ‘When you called in last night, I forgot to tell you I had a visitor the other day,’ Wilma said.

  ‘A visitor?’

  ‘That Troy fella from the rainforest centre called in to introduce himself. He seems very nice. They’ve decided not to put the walk in near my place because of some palm cockatoos that are out there.’

  ‘Troy? He said he was going to call in. That’s great news.’

  Wilma shot Emma a secretive smile. ‘He said he knew you. Seemed quite smitten. When he realised we were friends, he wanted to know all about you and how often you came out to see me. So you got yourself two fellas?’ Wilma’s eyes were dancing and Emma laughed. ‘Maybe you don’t need that lavender potion after all.’

  ‘No, not me. No fellas. Troy was probably just happy because I was the one who told him about those cockatoos. And Jeremy is just an old friend.’ She reached over and gave Wilma a hug. ‘I am so happy to see you out here and looking a lot more relaxed.’

  They were interrupted by a couple of women who picked up the soaps and sniffed them.

  She smiled. So Troy had been asking about her. As Wilma took the sale, Emma left and made her way back to the centre of the park. The jumping castle was covered with children jumping and squealing. A group of women stood by the coffee tent chatting as they watched the children playing. The white plastic chairs and tables were full with locals and tourists sipping coffee.

  As Emma walked past the squealing children she caught a glimpse of sandy hair just before Jeremy’s laugh reached her. A fluttering feeling stirred in her stomach and her pulse quickened. She stood to the side of the tent and watched as he laughed and talked to the group around him. Holding court was the term that sprang to her mind. It was good to see him at ease. Today he had dispensed with the designer labels: she was sure that was a white Bonds T-shirt tucked into a pair of faded jeans. She focused her attention on him. The T-shirt clung to his chest and her pulse kicked up another notch.

  The women around him seemed entranced.

  He lifted his head and caught sight of her. The flutters in her stomach pooled in her lower belly.

  ‘Excuse me.’ He left the group of young women and took Emma’s arm, guiding her to the side of the tent. ‘How are you this morning?’

  ‘I’m good, but I will admit to not sleeping well.’

  ‘You look beautiful, Em.’ He reached over and touched her necklace. ‘Is that the one I bought for you?’

  ‘It is.’ She held his gaze, confusion swirling through her as her legs got a bit shaky. She reminded herself this was Jeremy, not Troy. But she couldn’t help the grin as Wilma’s words flitted into her thoughts. Two fellas.

  Well, she’d enjoy it today. It would make a change from working hard and having no social life.

  ‘Emma, got a minute?’ Jeff called over from the coffee machine, holding up an empty milk carton.

  ‘Looks like I’m needed. I’ll see you later.’ She gave him a quick smile and turned on her heel, legs still tingling. After she’d got the milk for Jeff from the mobile cool room, she headed across to a small office next to the council building. Inside, the floats were being distributed, and takings put away securely.

  ‘How’s it going?’

  Jenny was behind the desk, taking her turn on the roster that Emma had set up last week. She flashed a bright smile. ‘What a morning. This is going to be our best yet. Apparently there’s a caravan muster up at the cape and they’ve all come down for the day. They’ve even entered a grey nomie team in the tug-of-war.’

  ‘So how many teams do we have?’

  ‘Would you believe sixteen entries at one hundred dollars per team? Sixteen hundred dollars raised just from the tug-of-war alone! You’ve excelled yourself this year, Emma.’

  Emma fanned her cheeks. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s a whole town effort. Even Wilma’s down there with a stall.’

  Jenny gave her a sly grin. ‘Did you see old George?’

  ‘Nope. Do I want to?’

  ‘He’s got a little stall down the back. He’s selling knives and axes.’

  ‘He’s what? The old bugger was whinging about coming into town.’ She grinned as she remembered George criticising Rainbow Day as a damn fool idea. ‘I remember when he said we didn’t need any more tourists in our rainforest, god love him. Can I get you anything, Jenny?’

  ‘I’d kill for a coffee.’

  ‘How about I take over here and you can go for a wander?’

  ‘You’re a sweetie, Em.’ Jenny stepped out from behind the desk and hugged her. ‘There’s plenty of change in the safe if any of the stallholders come in.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be right.’

  She walked around the counter and sat on the stool, casting her eyes down the list of figures that Jenny had tallied up. A very successful morning so far. The Dalrymple Gorge committee would be flush this year.

  *

  The door pushed open and Emma looked up. She stifled a groan as she met the pursed lips of Jock Newby.

  ‘Doctor Porter.’ His voice was almost a grunt. ‘Who’s in charge here?’

  ‘Is there a problem, Mr Newby?’

  He drew himself to his full height and puffed his chest. ‘Who’s in charge?’

  ‘I guess I am.’ Emma straightened her shoulders. He really was the most difficult man but she had to live and work in the same town so there was no point antagonising him.

  ‘That woman selling those quackery creams and remedies. Does she have a licence?’

  Emma played dumb. ‘What woman?’

  ‘You know who I mean. Wilma Randall. Who knows what’s in that stuff she brews out in the bush. It’s not legal. We have standards you know.’

  ‘It’s not a problem, Mr Newby. All the rules and regulations have been followed for the day and for the stallholders.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. She didn’t know how legal it was for George to be selling knives and axes but he wasn’t complaining about that.

  ‘I want to see it.’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘Her registration.’

  ‘I really don’t think that is any of your business.’ Emma’s voice was cold. She held her temper. She knew Wilma was licensed as a complementary practitioner and furthermore had RTO status to run courses.

  He leaned forward and put his face close to hers. ‘It’s bad enough that we have you performing your hocus pocus in the town without you encouraging more of it. Ridiculous that you go into the rainforest picking leaves. You should be using your time to look after your patients better.’

  Before she could reply, the door opened and Jeremy walked in. He crossed the room and Newby stepped back. Emma clenched her hands in her lap, aware that her cheeks were flushed with anger. She concentrated on keeping herself calm and pushing back the angry words that hovered on her lips.

  ‘Dr Langford. Have you met Mr Newby yet? Our local pharmacist.’

  ‘I have.’ Jeremy nodded courteously. ‘Good morning, Jock. How are you?’

  Jock Newby glared at her and swept past Jeremy without returning his greeting. He called back to her as he shoved the door open. ‘This isn’t the end of this.’

  Jeremy looked after him. ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘He was asking about Wilma’s licence. Don’t worry. Jock’s had a bee in his bonnet about me ever since I came to town and now he’s trying to take it out on her.’

  ‘Seems like a nasty type.’

  ‘He has a problem with our therapies. Closed-minded, that’s what he is. Anyway enough of that, not your worry.’ She looked up as Jenny opened the door and came in with a cup in each hand.

  ‘One for you too, Em. Thanks for holding the fort. Jock been giving you a hard time?’

  ‘He wanted to know if
Wilma was a registered practitioner.’

  ‘Everything is in that folder. It’s all good, so stop worrying about him.’

  Jeremy waited by the counter as Emma came around to the front and picked up her coffee. ‘I’ll be buzzing by the end of the day!’

  Jenny looked from one to the other and winked at Emma.

  ‘Looking good today, Doctor Langford,’ she said.

  Emma giggled. ‘We have a new pin-up boy.’

  She was pleased to see him blush.

  *

  By early afternoon, the crowd of locals and tourists had moved across to the old grandstand ready for the organised events. The stall holders were packing up, happy with the day’s sales, before they too wandered over to the grandstand. The Lions Club manned the food stall and a long line for the steak and sausage sandwiches wound around the base of the grandstand. A large group of onlookers cheered from the sidelines as the sack race began. There were a half dozen novelty events for the local children before the tug-of-war heats began.

  Emma stood beside the grandstand, ticking off the tug-of-war teams on the list that Jeff had handed over.

  ‘I need a word, Doctor Em.’ She turned at the gruff voice.

  ‘Sell all your knives, did you?’

  George pulled a wad of notes from his pocket. ‘And don’t worry. I paid my stall fee.’

  ‘You old bugger. You told me you weren’t even coming.’

  ‘Changed my mind. Besides, I wanted to have a look at your car over at Reg’s garage.’ He took her arm and pulled her out of earshot of the people walking towards the grandstand. Emma frowned as George looked around and lowered his voice.

  ‘You’ve been pissing someone off big time. I told you to stay away from the rainforest.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  He let go of her arm. ‘I went to the garage to see your car. You sure made a mess of it.’

  ‘Yes, I think it will be a write-off. I haven’t had time to report it yet. I’ll have a word to the sergeant before the tug-of-war heats.’

  ‘Reg said your brake line was cut.’

  ‘What?’ Emma put her hand to her mouth. ‘Is he sure?’

  ‘One hundred percent. He showed me. It was a clean cut.’