‘Good luck,’ Melinda called, leaning back in her chair and letting out a deep breath. Poor little mite, she thought. Well, nothing an X-ray and a few painkillers won’t fix.
‘Melinda?’
She jumped up and saw a man standing in a doorway—she hadn’t heard it open. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m Wes Corris. Please, come through.’ He indicated down a brightly lit passage. ‘Third on the left.’
Melinda gathered her folder and handbag and followed his instructions. As she started towards him, she heard the doors slide open and glanced over her shoulder to see her neighbour.
‘G’day there, missus,’ Ernie nodded to her.
Melinda realised he was holding a young child’s hand. She nodded to him and matched Wes’s steps towards his office.
‘I understand you’re new to Barrabine,’ Wes said as he settled behind his desk.
With a quick glance, Melinda saw the back wall of the office was lined with medical books, while the right wall had whiteboards covered with staff leave and jobs to be done. His desk was ordered and the entire office held only one personal item: a photo of what she assumed was his family—a woman and two small children.
‘Yes,’ she answered, placing her handbag on the floor and sitting down. ‘My husband,’ it still felt odd saying the word, ‘is a detective within the gold squad and we moved here a few weeks ago.’ Melinda tapped one finger nervously on her knee.
‘A big job,’ Wes said. ‘Bit of a wild west town this one.’
‘So I keep hearing.’ She didn’t mention this was the whole reason she didn’t like to go out or want to make friends. That and the fact she had come to realise if she made friends, once again she’d have to leave them. Melinda had come to the conclusion it was easier to keep her distance and not get too close to anyone.
There was a pause and Wes realigned his writing pad and pen into straight lines.
‘How can I help you, Melinda? I understand you’re looking for a job.’
She nodded. ‘I’m a paediatric nurse.’ Opening the folder, she brought out her résumé and laid it on the desk in front of him. ‘I’ve also got my certificates here.’
Wes picked up her resume and started to read. ‘Ah, you’ve worked under Tania Supple. I know Tania quite well,’ he commented, his eyes still on the paper.
Melinda took the time to study the office a little more closely. The medical books were on obstetrics and palliative care. She wondered how Wes had ended up behind a desk, managing people and budgets. Most nurses didn’t like the management side of the job.
Finally Wes put down the résumé and rubbed his eyes tiredly, even though it was only ten in the morning.
‘I’m sure you understand, Melinda, that there has to be a vacancy for you to be able to apply for a job in the public sector.’
Melinda felt her heart sliding down into her feet, and the hope she’d held on to for so long disappeared with that one sentence.
‘At this point I don’t have a vacancy, as much as I need another three nurses and probably two emergency doctors. Budgets, God, don’t even talk to me about the lack of money in health.’ He let out another long sigh. ‘I can’t offer you a job, Melinda, as much as I need you and would like to. The hospital just doesn’t have the money.’
Glancing down, she picked at the hem of her shirt, swallowing hard, while thinking of something to say.
‘As soon as something becomes available, I’ll let you know. You’d be a great asset for us.’
She nodded and looked up. ‘Thanks for your time.’
‘I watched you out there, with the little girl. I can see you’re an excellent nurse. You’ve got an affinity with kids.’
‘I love what I do,’ she said simply. ‘I loved my work in Perth and leaving my job at Princess Margaret Hospital was one of the hardest things I’ve done. I spent a lot of time studying to be able to get there.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘My husband got the job here.’
‘You gave up your career for him?’
Melinda paused. ‘Not giving it up,’ she answered. ‘More like putting it on hold.’
‘I hope he appreciates the sacrifice you’ve made,’ said Wes. ‘It’s not always easy to get back into those good jobs like you had at PMH once you’ve been gone for a while.’
Panic flared in Melinda. She hadn’t known that. What if…Anger burned at her throat.
‘And you worked in the burns unit mainly?’
She refocused on him. ‘Yes, but I started in Emergency. It’s all in there.’ She indicated to the résumé.
‘Which did you prefer?’
Melinda gave a slight shrug. ‘It’s hard to choose. The adrenalin and rush of Emergency can be addictive, as I’m sure you’re aware. Burns had its own type of urgency. The kids in burns, I’d get to talk to them a lot more, you know? Once they’d had their surgery or treatment, they were in the hospital for a while, often reliant on the nurses. They’d have long baths to wash away the dead skin, so we could assess the severity of the burn. Kids often got frightened, so I’d spend time sitting with them, talking to them.’ She paused. ‘Seeing them come back for more treatment was always great too. I guess we had a longer relationship with our patients than the ones who came into Emergency. Sometimes we’d see the same kids six or seven times a year.’
‘Yeah, I understand what you’re saying.’ Wes stood up and Melinda followed his lead.
‘I know this isn’t what you’re looking for, Melinda, but there is a position as a community health nurse going over at the community health campus. The job has a focus on babies and toddlers.’ He leaned down and scribbled a phone number and some directions on a notepad then handed it over. ‘At least it would keep your hand in. Keep you busy and working with kids.’
Melinda took the piece of paper and thanked him.
‘Good luck,’ he told her. ‘I’m sure you’ll find something which suits you.’
Out on the hot street Melinda walked quickly to her car, desperate to be inside where the air-conditioner would dry the sweat on her forehead and the tears that were threatening to spill over. She’d put so much hope into getting a job at the hospital and, although she understood everything Wes had said, still for some stupid reason she’d thought she’d be able to buck the system and walk right in.
Maybe not thought. Hoped.
In the safety of the car, Melinda let the tears fall. During the past month she’d been so lonely and bored. She was homesick and beginning to feel she’d given up her life to come to a place she hated. She’d only moved here for Dave. To help further his career, and now, according to Wes, she might lose everything as a result. Where was the fairness in that? Maybe if I never fit in, she thought, I’ll be able to go back home and Dave’ll understand. Maybe if I’m quick enough they won’t have replaced me at PMH and Dave and I could commute to see each other.
Only three months ago she’d been racing in and out of wards, treating wounds, bandaging and offering pain relief. Soothing frightened children and explaining procedures to parents. She’d been involved in handover meetings and coordinating operations. And now here she was, sitting in her car on the wide street of Barrabine, the sun beating in through the windscreen, and nothing for her to do except go home and look at four walls. She knew very few people and none of them really interested her anyway. From what she’d seen, everyone was keen for a drink and that was about all. Around town she’d seen women pushing kids in strollers or stuck behind the counters of shops. And Kathy? Well, Kathy seemed to stay at home all day, doing wifely things. What could they possibly have in common? What could they talk about?
A little voice reminded her she really hadn’t looked very far—the local supermarket, the pub and the parks. The mine museum, where she’d sat for hours in the Chinese garden, in front of the waterfall. The only water feature there was—again something she missed from Perth, which was on the sea. That was all. There was sure to be career women around here somewhere. There sur
ely had to be someone she could have an intellectual conversation with.
There was a tap on the roof of the car and she jumped. Looking up, she saw Kathy smiling at her through the bug-splattered window. Melinda plastered a smile on her face, pretended to cough and quickly wiped her eyes, before winding down the window.
‘Hello there, Melinda,’ Kathy said in a pleased voice. ‘I’ve been thinking about you. How’s everything going?’
‘Fine, just fine,’ Melinda answered through gritted teeth. She really wanted to scream out she wasn’t fine at all. ‘And with you?’
‘Oh, you know, just the normal things. Getting Spencer organised for work, washing, cleaning. We’ve started ballroom-dancing lessons, so I’ve been practising a little while Spencer is at work. It’s such fun. You and Dave should come along. Get out and meet people.’
‘Spencer is ballroom dancing?’ she asked. The very thought was too improbable to imagine.
‘Oh yes. Despite his looks, he’s very light on his feet.’ She paused. ‘Would you like to have an early lunch with me? I’d really love to hear how everything is going for you.’ Melinda felt the hotness of tears behind her eyes again and shook her head very quickly. She couldn’t afford for anyone to be too kind to her today. She’d start crying again and probably wouldn’t be able to stop. ‘No thanks, Kathy. Not today. I’ve got another appointment to get to. But thanks for the offer. Maybe next week.’
Kathy gave a small smile. ‘Sure, Melinda whenever you’d like to. I know you might find this hard to believe but I think we have some things in common. It’s not too long ago I moved here, you know.’ She put her hand in the open window and squeezed Melinda’s arm, then readjusted her handbag safely on her shoulder and left.
What was that supposed to mean? Melinda wondered. That she understood what she was feeling? Ha, unlikely! No one could. No one had given up the same sort of job she had and followed their husband to the ends of the earth. Melinda watched her walk down the street, trying to fight the isolation that swept over her.
Chapter 5
Dave was scrutinising the surface around the mine shaft when he noticed the two sets of footprints. They weren’t his or Spencer’s—the grips on both were wide and jagged, although one set was smaller than the other.
He stared at them for a minute, trying to work out why they looked familiar, then he realised they had the same tread as his brother’s Rossi boots. Different to the Blundstone boots he and Spencer wore. He made a mental note to look at the soles of Tim’s boots, then grabbed his camera.
Snapping a couple of close-ups of the outline in the dirt, he hoped he could get a cast made and they’d be able to confirm the brand of shoe and size of the foot. He glanced at Tim’s feet, trying to see what type of boots he wore, but they weren’t anything like Rossi boots. His were ankle-high lace-ups with the Blue Steel logo sewn to the tongue of the boot, and his feet looked like they were larger than the biggest print he’d found.
‘Got prints here, Spencer,’ he called, following the trail of footprints. In this type of dirt, the feet seemed to sink in a little more than usual, leaving clear outlines of the sole. ‘Go anywhere?’ Spencer called back.
‘I’ll follow them.’ Dave hoisted the camera over his shoulder and brushed the tiny black bush flies away from his face, remembering Ernie’s advice about buying himself a fly net. He would find a camping store when he got back to town and do just that. Spencer and Tim were both wearing one, so they wouldn’t take the piss.
As he walked, he drew a line with a stick, separating his prints from the others. They couldn’t get confused that way. He followed them through bushes and trees until he hit a little dirt track. Looking up and down it, he couldn’t see a car or even vehicle tracks. The outline of the prints seemed to start from the edge of the bush and end at the mine shaft. He stood still and let his eyes look at all the aspects of the thick scrub, then took a couple of steps into it. He could see where the footprints started from—or finished. He couldn’t be sure if they started at the mine or the bush. Or vice versa.
Curious, Dave thought as he snapped more photos and went to report his findings back to Spencer.
He wanted to know a lot more about Tim Tucker. Most murder investigations began with the person who had seen the victim last…but this wasn’t a murder investigation.
Yet.
The hut Tim Tucker lived in was nothing more than a permanent tin shed, with a mud and water mix plastered over the inside of the tin and coated with a lime whitewash. To Dave it looked like something out of the 1920s. There were three tiny rooms—a bedroom, a kitchen and a laundry, all sparsely furnished—but it seemed to have everything a person could need: a hand-operated washing machine, an oven (albeit a bricked-up fireplace with a frying pan hanging over it), and a modern-day travel fridge running off battery power, which to Dave’s thinking looked completely out of place. He was sure Tim’s living area could have been an exhibit in the mine museum!
The only other thing that looked out of place was a polished piano wedged hard up against the wall, taking up at least half the living area. It seemed like the most cared for item in the house. The mahogany was polished and there wasn’t a skerrick of dust on the outside.
‘Couldn’t ask for a better view,’ Tim said as he put the kettle onto his gas burner and lit it. ‘Tea?’
Both the detectives nodded their thanks and Dave turned to look out the door. Tim was right. The red earth was scattered with saltbush and broombush, blackbutt and gimlet trees. While the trees stood tall, the bushes grew in clumps beneath, creating what looked like paths, which made Dave want to head out and follow them. The ironstone sprinkled across the soil still looked like it could be an abandoned asphalt parking lot, but Dave knew better now and saw beauty in it.
‘It’s very picturesque,’ he said. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘Bought my lease back in 1938 and haven’t moved from here since.’ He put three pannikins out on the handmade wooden bench and threw a handful of tea leaves into the boiling water. Dave watched the bubbles boiling up the sides of the billy, mesmerised. He hadn’t seen tea made this way since his granddad had taken him camping up in the north of Western Australia.
‘Nineteen thirty-eight?’ Dave finally asked, surprised. ‘You must have been young.’
‘I was eighteen then.’ Tim turned and looked out the door, his faded blue eyes clearly seeing a scene from the past. ‘I’m seventy-seven now. Been here fifty-nine years.’
‘Fifty-nine years? And you’ve never left?’ Dave was incredulous. Fifty-nine years living out here, without any luxuries, without company. He found it hard to fathom.
‘No. I love it here. The country, the landscape. You know. I’m happy in my own company. Couldn’t imagine living in town with neighbours after all this time. Even a trip into Barrabine for supplies is an effort for me.’ He looked around and sighed contentedly. ‘No, this is where I’m happiest.’
‘And mining?’
‘Mining doesn’t matter to me the way it used to.’
There was another heavy sigh, this time from outside and Dave turned to see the red heeler asleep in the sun. He looked very relaxed and nothing like the fierce dog he had encountered when he’d first arrived.
Spencer got out his notepad. ‘Righto, you know the drill, Timmy,’ he said. ‘We need to ask you a few questions.’
Tim poured the tea and put the mugs on the table. ‘Sugar? Milk? I’ve only got long-life.’
‘Just sugar for me. Thanks,’ Dave answered.
‘Same,’ Spencer said.
Tim turned and took a bag of sugar out of the fridge and put it on the table. He saw Dave looking. ‘Stops the ants from getting into it,’ he said by way of an explanation. Leaning against the bench, he took a sip of his tea. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘How did you discover the body? I’m going to say body because we don’t know what is down there. Might be ten people for all we know.’
‘Geez! I hope you�
�re wrong,’ Tim said.
‘Me too.’ Spencer was quiet while he waited for Tim to answer.
‘I’ve had a few nightly visitors lately. You know how it is.’ He talked straight to Spencer. ‘Fellas walking onto the lease with detectors in the dark. Looking around. I don’t mind if they want to have a look on my lease—you know, the amateurs. They’ve only got small detectors which go maybe a half a metre down—they’re not going to find the mother lode. If they find a piece, there’ll be something bigger there, more than likely. All I ask is they pinpoint the site they found it and then I can take my machines in and have a look. But they keep sneaking onto the place when I’m not looking. When it’s dark or they think I’m not around. Sometimes I see little pinpricks of light. If you watch for long enough you can see them moving slowly across the land.’
‘Pinpricks?’ Dave asked.
‘They wear headtorches so they can see where they’re walking,’ Tim explained. Then he gave a wicked laugh. ‘Sometimes I send Chief out to give ’em a bit of a scare.’
Spencer shook his head, disgusted. ‘It’s not only you. We’re getting more and more complaints about this. They’ve got the fever and they get greedy. Don’t take notice of the boundaries. We’ve even had bigger mining companies complaining of people walking out onto their tenements. Too many people straying over the borders.’
‘Chief here,’ he nodded to the dog, ‘he usually gets rid of them, but if it’s further over, he won’t hear them. Last night he got a bit excited, barking and carrying on. Kept running off into the bush and coming back as if to get me. Reckon it was about ten, so I got in me ute and followed him. Didn’t see anyone, or any lights. Thieves are too clever for that, so whoever was there last night wasn’t an amateur.’
Tim put down his cup and wiped his hands across his eyes, getting rid of the sweat which had pooled there. Dave did the same—it was bloody hot under this tin roof. Probably forty-five if not more. He wondered how Tim could live out here without air-conditioning and other mod cons. Then his grandfather’s voice stopped him. ‘All he’s ever known, lad.’ His wise words often returned to Dave when he was dealing with people.
Fool's Gold Page 5