Kookaburra Dawn

by Amanda Doyle

  ‘Did you have a good trip out?’ Leith asked politely, then added, ‘We’ve all been hoping that you might have come in on the galah session to tell us about it, Renata, but you never have.’

  Rennie blushed. ‘I haven’t bothered to learn how to work the set, Leith,’ she admitted candidly. ‘I shall be here such a relatively short time, you see, that I don’t suppose Chad thought it worth even demonstrating, although he taught Magda how to do it straight away. In any case, I’d be too shy to join in.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ stated Leith briskly. ‘It’s all very informal. We’ve been itching to hear you, and that English voice is quite charming. It would really take a trick. Just wait till I tell the others that I’ve actually met you. That will be a meaty piece of news for them! I must say—’ she looked Rennie over appraisingly—‘Chad didn’t tell us that you were quite so decorative.’

  ‘Didn’t he?’ Rennie shrugged. ‘I’m not a decorative person, really, Leith—not like that. I mean, it’s just that I’m a model, professionally trained to make the best of myself,’ she explained uncomfortably.

  The other girl laughed openly at her embarrassment.

  ‘My dear, it’s nothing to defend yourself about. Besides, I’ve got eyes in my head, haven’t I? Funny that Chad didn’t mention it, though. He usually does, about anything out of the ordinary.’

  Rennie’s colour deepened.

  She turned away, hoping that her companion would not notice. It would be humiliating to have to explain to this pretty, flame-headed creature that Chalford Sandasen had not bothered to mention it for the very same reason that Leith had unwittingly mentioned. So far as he was concerned, Rennie was obviously very ordinary indeed—so ordinary, in fact, that his green eyes passed over her carelessly and quickly in a cold, remote sort of way, and his mouth seldom lifted in that endearingly lopsided grin with which it responded to Magda, for instance, and his manner, although never lacking in actual courtesy, could scarcely be called warm or congenial. Rennie hoped fervently that she would manage to avoid the necessity of such an admission to anyone at all before she left Barrindilloo. She hardly liked to admit it, even to herself, because of the peculiar little ache it brought to the region of her heart. Hurt pride, no doubt, and she despised herself for it.

  Now she spoke quickly.

  ‘Tell me, do you live far away, Leith? How many miles did you ride this morning to get here?’

  ‘Only about seven, actually. The outstation where our men are drafting just now is our nearest point to Barrindilloo. Our boundaries are conterminous as far as the Yogill Bore block, but the homesteads are over sixty miles apart. That’s why I took the opportunity to come on, when my father was driving as far as that in the ute.’

  ‘It’s bad luck that Chad isn’t here,’ murmured Rennie awkwardly.

  The distance this girl had come, just to see him, frankly appalled her. And riding all alone like that, on that dreadful horse!

  ‘No matter, although of course it would have been nice to see him. As I said, the main object of my mission today was to meet you and Magda. Chad has already booked me for the race meeting, and that’s scarcely any time away now, anyway.’

  Leith had imparted this piece of information proudly.

  Rennie supposed that by ‘booked’, she must mean that Chad had asked her to be his special girl-friend, his partner, over those two hectic days when all the people would foregather from far and near to the Yogill Bore for the races and evening festivities. If that were the case, and what Murtie had just told her was also true, then there were going to be a lot of disappointed damsels at that meeting, and it was likely that all their eye-fluttering would be in vain. Rennie could hardly imagine that any of them, even the city sophisticates, could possibly be more pretty or fetching than the girl who walked at her side right now!

  They went up the steps, through the gauze door and on to the veranda.

  ‘Magda?’

  Leith hesitated, and surprisingly, Rennie realized that this pretty, confident girl was actually shy and awkward in the child’s presence.

  They talked for a while, and it was Rennie herself who glossed over the difficult silence, and set the small child laughing.

  ‘Now, run and tell Elspeth that we’ve a visitor for lunch, will you, poppet? We shall need an extra place at the table, so you could ask Mayra or Nellie about that, too.’

  Magda scampered off with alacrity, and Leith Mindon gave a tiny, wry grimace as she placed the topee on the cane table and sank into one of the veranda deckchairs.

  ‘I’m afraid children aren’t my strong point,’ she confessed ruefully to Rennie, as she accepted a tall glass of iced lemon squash which the other had brought from the fridge. ‘I can’t seem to strike quite the right note, ever—either treat them too young, so that they give me one of those dreadfully discomfiting oblique stares that only kids are capable of or else endow them with an adult understanding that turns out simply not to be there—result, more horrid stares!’ She sipped her drink thoughtfully. ‘Just my luck, that Chad should choose to saddle himself with one, but I dare say it’s something I can get used to in time, if I really try. With him there to help me, I’m sure it’ll work out all right. Give me animals any day, all the same!’

  Rennie did not quite know how to reply to this observation. She was fond enough of animals herself, but to prefer them to Magda—

  Leith’s implications had left her in no two minds about one thing, however, and that was that should Murtie wish to bet on this slender, chestnut-haired retroussé-nosed young woman as the successful candidate for the role of Mrs. Chalford Sandasen, it was more than probable that he would win!

  Indeed, the way Leith had spoken, it looked as though a quite definite understanding had been reached. Rennie wasn’t quite sure just how you reached that sort of understanding over an essentially public instrument like that transceiver-set appeared to be, but there was no doubt that Chad had achieved it, all the same. Perhaps he had written a letter, perhaps he had merely altered the tone of that deep voice of his in the speaking of some otherwise innocent phrase, or perhaps it had come about at some meeting quite a while ago, and was in fact a secret agreement of long standing between them.

  However it had been accomplished, Leith had got the message, there was no question about that because of the decided way in which she had just spoken. And now she had passed the information on to Rennie, so that she had got the message, too!

  At the sight of Ashley walking up from the store, Rennie rose to her feet.

  ‘There’s Ash. I’ll just tell Elspeth that we’re ready for lunch, if you’ll excuse me, Leith. I’m sure you know where to go if you’d like a wash.’

  It was a cheerful meal. Magda burbled on to Ash about her morning participation in the School of the Air, her initial wariness of the stranger in their midst forgotten in her eagerness to tell this man, of whom she had become so fond, about all that she had been doing so far today.

  ‘And we sang “Green Grow the Rushes O”, Ash. We’ve been learning it for days. I was given the bit about three, three, the rivals, and the others all got a line to learn, too. And today we put the whole thing together into a proper song. It was great fun, except that Philip out at Jabiru Ponds forgot his line, and for a minute there was just a lot of crackling and static and silence when Miss Brown called him in.’

  ‘And what was Philip supposed to sing?’ asked Ash, amused.

  ‘He was “four for the gospel-makers”. That’s easy, but he forgot it, all the same. I didn’t, though.’

  ‘Good for you, Magda. Tell me, how is the pony coming along?’

  ‘Oh, have you got a pony?’ Leith was immediately interested.

  ‘Yes, Chad got me one specially,’ the little girl replied with some pride. ‘Her name is Dolly, and I can trot her now.’

  ‘I’d love to see her afterwards?’

  ‘Well, you can if you like.’ For some reason, Magda still sounded cautious.

  After lunch was over, As
h went back to his store, and Rennie, Magda and Leith walked together over the hot, hard ground from the homestead to the stables, and while they were admiring Dolly, who should appear but Chad himself.

  ‘Hullo, Leith. Where did you spring from? You must be working the Yogiil Plains corner, are you?’

  He had looked unsurprised, but pleased too, to see Leith Mindon leaning over the rail at Dolly’s box.

  ‘We are,’ she nodded, ‘so I just thought I’d ride over and meet Renata and Magda, when I had the chance.’

  ‘Is that old nag in the horse-paddock yours, by any chance?’

  Chad’s white teeth gleamed for an instant in the darkness of his sun-browned face. His eyes, as they rested upon Leith’s copper-bright, curly head, were smiling too.

  ‘Yes, that’s Blinker, all right. He was the only spare I could get hold of today.’

  ‘Then that’s a measure of how much you wanted to pay us a visit, and we should be flattered! Come, Leith, I’ll ride back with you as far as the boundary. Your Blinker doesn’t look the most dependable of mounts to me!’

  It was with a tiny pang of something akin to envy that Rennie watched them leave the saddling yard a few minutes later, riding away out into the distance.

  Leith sat erect, her helmet with its bobbing-cork fly-veil back in place. At her side, Chad’s long, lean form looked broad and powerful, slanted easily in the saddle as his spirited stallion set the pace. He rode long-stirruped, the reins held loosely between the fingers of his left hand] while with his other he leaned down and opened the only gate they would have to go through, wheeling his horse and motioning his girl companion through. He did it with the same quiet gallantry as he so often did in holding open a door for old Elspeth, or even for Rennie herself, and the gesture somehow brought a lump to Rennie’s throat.

  The odd, choking feeling was still with her as she stood there, watching, until the man and the girl had ridden together right out of her vision.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The tableau of those two riders remained with Rennie over the next couple of days, although she did her best to exorcise the memory from her mind.

  Instead, she made herself think about other, more satisfactory things, such as the way in which Magda was progressing with her lessons, and the pleasantness of those interludes of chatting with Ash in his office, and Elspeth’s warm gratitude over the many small acts by which Rennie found she was able to assist the older woman in the management of this sprawling homestead.

  Her thoughts, too, dwelt longingly upon Keith. They dwelt hopefully now, as well as longingly, because it really did seem as though Magda was going to be happy at Barrindilloo after all. Admittedly there were drawbacks, such as Chad’s bachelor state and the lack of company of other children in her own age group, but since her meeting with Leith Mindon, Rennie could well believe that the former would in due course solve itself. She was unable to bring herself to mention the lack of a wife to Chad—as she once had!—because she could imagine the way those green eyes would narrow so chillingly, the way that mobile mouth would immediately pull itself into the level, forbidding line that told her more clearly than words ever could to mind her own business.

  She did, however, summon sufficient courage to broach the latter problem, and was surprised, when he replied, that she had not thought of such an obvious and suitable solution herself.

  ‘When Magda is thirteen or fourteen I shall send her to a good boarding-school, where she will learn how to live with other girls, and how to participate physically in community life, in a way that she is able to do only mentally at the moment, by means of the radio communication with these other bush children, who are as isolated as she is herself. There’s plenty of time to think about it, and in the meanwhile her personality can develop and emerge at its own pace. The lack of young companionship will not harm her temporarily. Indeed, it will give her time to get over her tragic experience. Time, too, for those scars to heal so that they are virtually invisible, and therefore unlikely to draw possibly hurtful comment from the others. Youngsters can be unintentionally tactless, not to say cruel, at times, Renata.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that aspect,’ confessed Rennie with humility. Then—‘Where would you send her?’

  ‘To one of the capitals. Possibly to Sydney itself. I have a sister in Brisbane, actually, who’d be only too willing to keep an eye on her, but the bulk of my business is transacted in Sydney.’ He shrugged. ‘I have to fly down often enough to be able to keep in constant touch with Magda and her progress. That’s no problem at all.’

  No, it wouldn’t be a problem to Chad, Rennie could see that well enough. When he set his mind to doing something, he was surprisingly thorough and single-minded in the execution of that purpose.

  A sudden warm excitement set her blood tingling, as she found herself imagining her own return to Sydney. To Keith. Free at last, in an honourable way, to go to him without encumbrances. She would miss her dear little Magda of course, but she could never give the child all the things which she now saw that Chalford Sandasen, the legal uncle, could and would give her.

  Rennie could envisage the way Keith would hold his arms wide open so that she could fly right into them like a pigeon homing to its rightful nest. She could picture the way his eyes would linger so hungrily upon her, the way his lips would meet hers to claim her at last for his own.

  She stood up abruptly, a little breathless, and as she left Chad’s presence found herself submitting to a look so shrewd, so intent, that she wondered if he could possibly have guessed the turn of her own thoughts.

  Soon—once she was quite, quite certain—Rennie would write to Keith and tell him all the things that were in her heart. She had been tempted to, many times, since she had come out to Barrindilloo, but had fought down the urge because of her sturdy resolution to put Magda’s welfare first.

  She had been unable initially to accept as more than the remotest possibility the idea that Chad Sandasen’s way of life could be a favourable environment for her little orphaned charge. Because of the implications for herself and Keith, it was something that she wanted to believe, very much, almost more than anything else in the world. Indeed, the realization of how much it meant to her, personally, and to her whole future, acted as a curb upon Rennie’s judgment. It was because she wanted so much that it should be so that she dared not be over-eager in telling herself that Chad and Barrindilloo were suitable substitutes for herself in caring for the child.

  Now, she was almost convinced, and had allowed herself cautiously to recognize the fact.

  The result was this sudden delicious feeling of anticipation and excitement on her own behalf—of sheer relief, as though an enormous burden of responsibility had removed itself from her slender shoulders, leaving her free at last to think, to dream, and to know that there was every likelihood of those same thoughts and dreams coming to fruition.

  Rennie found herself humming lightheartedly as she strolled in the sunlit morning, over the lawn and beyond. She had no particular aim or purpose, but walked with a step that was today light and springy with hope and satisfaction, the outward testimony of her newly-acquired peace of mind. Her heart itself was singing this morning, a song of love that was soon to be requited. Love for Keith. A love that was to be reciprocated this time, because the verdict, the outcome, was not after all to be ‘Rennie and Magda’, it was to be ‘Rennie alone’. She could go to Keith under his own terms, at last, and she would do that with a supreme gladness of heart.

  And then it wouldn’t even be ‘Rennie alone’. It would be ‘Rennie and Keith’. That phrase—‘Rennie and Keith’—she found inordinately satisfying. So satisfying that Rennie stopped her humming, and said it several times, experimentally, under her breath.

  A cloud of dust at the high-railed stockyards caught her eye, and Rennie’s steps turned carelessly in that direction.

  As she approached, she could feel the reverberations of pounding hooves coming up through the ground to echo in the soles
of her own feet, could hear the snorting and whinnying, and the sound of a voice that growled and shouted and coaxed by turns.

  The voice belonged to Harry Goola. He was running a wild-eyed young colt around the yard on a long rein, persuading it into obedience.

  The animal’s flank was shaggy with sweat, and Harry’s own black face gleamed like wet satin, too, as he bent and turned with the horse, his filthy but ever-present pipe clenched unlit between his firm white teeth, as he pivoted on the spot where he stood while it circumscribed a widening, dust-trampled arc about him. Every now and then it would rear and plunge, cavorting away in a sudden fit of rebellion, and when it did that Harry would bite harder on his pipe, and dig the heels of his boots deeper into the powdery turf, winding the rope about his own wiry body, resisting and pulling until he regained control of the animal’s actions.

  As Rennie climbed up on to the rail she saw that there were some fifteen or twenty other horses shut in the adjoining yard to the one in which Harry was working.

  They appeared to be of mixed ages and sizes, but all had one thing at least in common. They tossed their heads restlessly when Rennie looked down at them, snorted softly through dilated nostrils, wheeled in a body against the fence, and jostled from one end of their tight-packed prison to the other, as though realizing that soon they, too, must feel the pressure of that implacable rein, and the crack of the stockwhip perilously near their rump if they should choose to disobey its signals.

  ‘What are you doing, Harry? Taming them?’ asked Rennie, glad of the freedom her blue denim jeans afforded as she ascended agilely to the topmost rail.

  ‘You-ai, missus. Harry bin break-in thatfella, allasame him like-um more better get out there alonga that scrub.’ A grin. ‘Him like-um more better prop’ly runaway bush!’

  Harry waved a black hand nonchalantly at the skyline before bringing it to bear on the rope once more, and grinned again, and Rennie found herself smiling readily down into that wrinkled dusky face. With its glistening black skin, short grey stubble of beard, broad nose, the wide mouth with its ceremonial front gap between flashing white teeth, and those wonderfully expressive liquid-brown eyes, so clever and keen, alert even to the most infinitesimal detail of object, sign or movement such as the white man’s eye could rarely perceive, Harry Goola typified the best and finest characteristics of his aboriginal race. What was more, he had a personality to match, a personality that was loaded with charm, dignity, kindliness and merriment. At times the merriment took control completely. At others, it was modified by the superstitious overtones that were part of his inheritance, and on those occasions, Harry’s eyes could widen apprehensively, and his tongue would trip nervously over all manner of gloomy prophecies and daunting predictions, at such a speed that only Chad himself could understand. But these moments were rare indeed. For the most part, Harry was the happiest and sunniest of characters, a picturesque figure in his faded shirt, straining braces, sagging, bagging trousers and ageing felt hat, with its oil-stained crown and battered brim. The pipe completed this picture. As Rennie had already observed times without number, Harry and his pipe were not to be parted, no matter what he happened to be doing. That pipe was as much a part of him as his spiky fuzz of grey whiskers, his melting eyes, and his wide, white, gap-toothed smile.