by Di Morrissey
About A Distant Journey
Celebrating 25 years as Australia’s favourite storyteller, Di Morrissey’s latest novel is a tribute to the real Australia she knows so well.
In 1962 Cindy drops out of college to impulsively marry Australian grazier Murray Parnell, moving from the glamorous world of Palm Springs, California, to an isolated sheep station on the sweeping plains of the Riverina in New South Wales.
Cindy is flung into a challenging world at Kingsley Downs station. While facing natural disasters and the caprices of the wool industry, Cindy battles to find her place in her new family and continues to feel like an outsider. As she adjusts to her new life, Cindy realises that the Parnells are haunted by a mystery that has never been solved. When she finally uncovers the shocking truth, her discovery leads to tragedy and Cindy finds herself fighting to save the land that she has grown to love as her own.
Contents
Cover
About A Distant Journey
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Acknowledgements
About Di Morrissey
Also by Di Morrissey
Copyright page
With love to my family in Nevada and California –
especially in Palm Desert.
Prologue
She could smell it coming. Taste it. Feel it.
The rasping dryness in her nostrils and throat, the thick stickiness of the air, the burning behind her eyeballs. Her skin felt like old paper. She strained her reddened eyes at the horizon, dreading the changing colour of the sky, fearful of a golden puff, a sliver, curling above the skyline.
The stillness was all around, broken only by edgy horses, silent birds, dogs lying under the house on their bellies, ears flattened. Sheep in the paddocks, huddled together in fear.
They knew it was coming towards them. Their fate would depend on the turn of the wind. There was nowhere to go.
It was the waiting that was hardest. Men and women stood poised with whatever they had to hand, no matter how ineffectual, ready to fight their worst nightmare – an Australian bushfire.
The pregnant woman was alone, pressed to her mattress. The oppressive heat and air pressure had exhausted her, drained her of energy, of hope. They’d soaked the walls outside, even the verandah, with precious water. Containers of dam water waited, as well as blankets, towels and hessian sacks ready to soak and use as weapons against the flames.
She heard the fire truck scream uphill from the muddy dam, the weight of water in its belly challenging its tyres to grip the hot, dry grass. It made her feel less isolated, if only for a moment. She climbed off the bed and went out onto the verandah.
The heat of the day had not diminished. Across the parched brown paddocks, ominous colours had begun to bleed into the searing sky: oily red, evil orange.
The surreal sunset only confirmed her fears. As she stood gripping the rail, night closed in around her. The smell of smoke was stronger now, the air temperature and pressure changing, as though some yawning mouth was sucking the air upwards before spitting it back as specks of ash that drifted through the charred sky.
She heard rumbles in the distance as vehicles sped off to where the sneaky advances of orange tongues had begun to lick through paddocks, shrubs and trees.
Now it was real.
She pictured the crouching and rising beast, marshalling hordes of fiery sparks. The fire would form a front that stretched for miles, pushed ever forward by the howling wind behind. A single guerrilla spark could ignite trees, forests, hillsides. The relentless surge would spare nothing; growth, creature or person. Irascible, mercurial, leaping roads and rivers, it would race across the land, changing direction in a breath, allowing no escape.
She knew that the men would spread out through the paddocks, damp towels turbanned on their heads, wet cloths knotted at their throats, alert to any lick of flame, any glowing ember. They would swiftly pound at the fire with their primitive equipment, snuffing out its red heart, until another fire came to life somewhere else and threatened to race away beyond their control. Sometimes there was no help for it; the sparks would catch and a new fire would flare up to form a snapping, crackling, searing wall of flames, forcing the men to retreat as best they could before being encircled.
The smell of smoke menaced the air now. She gasped for breath and stumbled back inside. She made her way to her bed and lay down, her eyes stinging.
Not long afterwards, she heard the wind rattle against the window. Did this signal a change in its direction? Was she in the fire’s path, or had it turned away?
She was so alone. She went to the bathroom and looked down at the bathtub, which was partially filled with water. Do not leave. Keep low to the ground where the last breath of fresh air might be. If the fire comes, lie low in the water with a wet blanket over you, she’d been told. She’d been drilled and warned. But now she was consumed by fear. Surely someone would come for her?
Time passed. Conditions deteriorated. She waited. The noise of the wind outside grew and grew, snarling and roaring like an animal released from its cage. The smoke in her eyes and throat grew worse and despair crept inside her like a shadow.
She prayed for herself. Prayed for her child. Prayed that someone, anyone, would come and find her before it was too late.
1
As the taxicab stopped in front of the small apartment complex of Hacienda Hideaway, Babs Mason brushed her fair curls from her face and craned forward. She was immediately captivated by the pueblo-style building with its wide balconies, stucco walls and shingled roof. She turned to the small blond boy sitting next to her and forced a smile onto her tired face.
‘Well, Joey, we made it. This is Palm Desert,’ she said.
Though they had been on a long bus ride, the boy bounced on his seat in anticipation. At first Joey had been skittish and shy, but their fellow passengers had been kind
to him, sharing candy and crackers. The changing scenery had kept him entertained, as had the occasional commentary from the Greyhound driver. But in spite of his excitement, he reached now for Babs’s hand.
‘Is this our new home, Mommy?’ he asked as they climbed out of the cab.
‘Sure is. C’mon, let’s go explore.’ Babs opened her handbag and carefully counted out the change for the cab driver, who’d driven them from the Palm Springs bus station some thirty minutes away. She glanced at the carefully folded notes in her purse. The money would have to last for some time. A taxi was a luxury, but she’d felt it was worth it for the final leg of their journey. She snapped her purse shut. The driver took her bags and a portable sewing machine from the trunk and left them beside the front door.
He wished her luck, and then walked briskly back to his cab.
‘Mommy, can we see the pool now?’ Joey hopped impatiently from one leg to the other. Babs smiled at his enthusiasm. He’d endured such a long journey to see this much-promised pool, so Babs left their things by the entryway as the two of them went to search for it.
Hand in hand, mother and son strolled across the neatly clipped green lawns around the complex of six apartments. In the centre was a kidney-shaped swimming pool and several sun lounges. Joey raced to the edge and dipped his hand in the blue water.
‘What do you think, Joey?’ Babs asked.
Joey grinned. ‘Can I get in n
ow?’
‘I think we should get settled first, don’t you?’
Joey frowned and seemed about to argue, but one glance at Babs’s face and he reluctantly nodded his head. Walking back towards their apartment, Babs saw the communal laundry, complete with modern washing machines, dryers and ironing boards. ‘Goodness, you’d think with all this sun, you wouldn’t need a clothes dryer,’ she murmured to Joey.
‘Oh, you’re not allowed to hang anything outdoors,’ said an older woman who was walking past them, carrying a basket of dirty washing. ‘And you can’t hang towels over the railings, either. They’re strict about it, but it keeps standards up.’ She stopped for a moment and gave Babs a welcoming smile. ‘Are you going to be staying here?’ she asked.
Joey hid himself behind Babs as the woman leaned down to greet him. ‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘My name is Deidre Kramer. My husband, Sol, and I are in number two.’
Babs gave a small smile. ‘I’m Barbara Mason, though everyone calls me Babs, and this is Joey, my son. We’ve just arrived from Portland, Oregon.’
‘Well, welcome to Palm Desert,’ said Deidre with a wide smile. ‘That’s a big trip for a little guy. I bet you and your mother are both tired after such a trip. Say, why don’t you come up and have a cold drink with me. I’m sure you’d like a cookie, wouldn’t you, little man?’ Joey nodded shyly. Deidre dumped the basket inside the laundry. ‘I can always do this later. Come on.’
Babs felt a bit hesitant about taking up Deidre’s offer. She would really have preferred just to settle into the place quietly and without fuss, but the woman seemed so nice and welcoming that she thought it churlish to refuse. Besides, Babs thought, she might need a friend in the future, and Deidre might turn out to be that person.
‘Thank you very much for your offer. That would be lovely.’
As Joey sat quietly eating his cookie and sipping his lemonade through a plastic straw, his mother looked admiringly around Deidre’s apartment. The living area was small, but Babs thought it very stylish. The plush red lounge with its wooden legs was teamed beautifully with a low wooden buffet which sat next to the television set in its polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room.
A small but very modern dining table setting was just outside the kitchen. There was a small drinks bar in the corner of the living room, its red vinyl-covered stools matching the lounge. How chic, Babs thought. Several framed paintings of the surrounding desert hung on the walls.
‘Deidre, you have a really lovely home. I love the way you’ve decorated it,’ she said. ‘Those paintings are beautiful.’
‘Well, thank you, Babs. My husband did them,’ said Deidre, plumping a pillow next to her on the couch. ‘Palm Desert might not be as ritzy as Palm Springs, but it’s a handy place, quiet, and not at all pricey like Palm Springs, which is going crazy with those new houses they’re building. Have you heard about those?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘They call them “Alexanders” after the construction company that’s making them. Very smart, compact and a simple design. They’re also building a development they’ve called Twin Palms Estates. Every apartment has its own swimming pool and I can tell you, you won’t get much change from twenty thousand if you want to buy one.’
Babs’s jaw dropped. ‘Heavens, who has that sort of money?’ she exclaimed. ‘Anyway, like you said, it seems quiet and clean here. I’m sure we’ll be just fine.’
‘Certainly the peace and quiet and the convenience here suits me and Sol, and Palm Springs is only twenty-five minutes away by bus. But don’t get me wrong, Palm Desert is a go-ahead place, too. This land used to be where General Patton’s tank repair facility was during the war, but after the war Edgar Bergen and some of his buddies got together and developed it. Now look at us,’ Deidre said proudly.
‘You mean the Edgar Bergen, the ventriloquist?’ asked Babs, her face lighting up. ‘How exciting.’
Deidre smiled. ‘Is that what brought you here? The film stars?’
‘Sort of,’ replied Babs vaguely, looking away. ‘I’d seen a lot of magazines that featured Palm Springs and I thought it looked like a very glamorous place.’
‘Long way from Portland, though,’ said Deidre, eyeing her guest speculatively.
Babs gazed out the window at the sunny view and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Portland’s not very nice in winter. It’s cold and wet, and I wanted to raise my son someplace pleasant and sunny.’
‘Joey seems a very nice little boy,’ said Deidre, looking at the lad, whose blond head was bent intently over his drink. ‘How old is he?’
‘Six.’ Babs glanced fondly at her son.
‘He seems tall for six. Takes after his father, does he?’ Deidre shot Babs a curious look.
Babs had no intention of discussing Joey’s father with Deidre on such a short acquaintance, so she cleared her throat and returned to the subject of Portland.
‘Yes, I wanted to live someplace where the sun shines all the time. Besides, Portland isn’t always a very safe city to live in. There’s a lot of crime.’
Deidre nodded. ‘Well, you’ll get a lot of sun here, all right. It gets up over a hundred degrees in summer. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. It’s a dry heat, but you can’t go running around in the middle of the day, young man,’ Deidre said, turning to Joey. ‘Still, I expect you’ll enjoy using the pool. Can he have another cookie, Babs?’
Joey gravely accepted another cookie from Deidre.
‘Joey, say thank you to Mrs Kramer,’ prompted Babs. Joey nodded but didn’t speak. He slouched down in his chair and nibbled on the cookie despondently. He looked tired. Babs gathered her handbag and stood up. ‘Well, Deidre, it’s been so nice chatting to you. I’d better get our bags up to our apartment. Can you tell me if there’s a diner close by? I simply couldn’t cook this evening after our trip.’ Babs took Joey by the hand and helped him up.
‘Oh, there sure is. Betsy Morgan has a cute little place half a block down called Betsy’s,’ Deidre said as she walked them to the door. ‘Not a very adventurous name, but she does good food. It’s all decked out in red and white, you can’t miss it. Can I help you with your bags?’
‘That’s kind of you, but I’ll manage. I haven’t got very much.’
‘So it’s just the two of you, then?’ asked Deidre as Joey finished the last of the cookie.
‘Yes, that’s right. Just Joey and me,’ said Babs as she steered Joey out the front door. ‘What do you say to Mrs Kramer, Joey?’
Joey murmured a thank you as Deidre patted his head and waved them off. ‘You and I will be friends, Joey. You’ll see.’ She turned to smile at Babs. ‘Just holler if there’s anything you need, Babs. It’s a nice bunch of folk around here, you’ll soon fit in.’
*
As soon as Babs opened the door of their apartment, she smiled. It had exactly the same layout as the Kramers’s and was wonderfully light and airy, although the furniture that came with it was not nearly as smart as Deidre’s. In one corner of the living area was a brown sofa. There was no buffet or television set, although there was a small bookcase and an incongruously large dining table surrounded by four solid, if unfashionable, chairs.
Just the perfect place for my sewing machine, Babs thought to herself.
Putting her bags and sewing machine down, she and Joey explored the bedrooms. There was a large main bedroom and a smaller one off to one side. She was pleased to see that there was an air-conditioning unit as well as large built-in closets. How modern, she thought. Next to the bedrooms was a good-sized bathroom.
Although the furnishings in the apartment were basic, everything seemed clean and functional. She hoped they would do well here. She had taken such a big gamble with their lives. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She tried to quell the anxious knot in her stomach. She just had to trust that she had made the right decision.
After supper at B
etsy’s Diner, Babs and Joey walked hand in hand in the late afternoon light along the dusty road at the edge of town. Joey was subdued and Babs peered at him. He was often anxious and she was worried about how he would handle the move. She hoped this fresh start was the right thing for him. They paused and stood on the edge of the road. Behind them lay the small village of Palm Desert with its neat rows of houses and apartments, the carefully planned streets coupled with well-watered emerald green grass verges. In front of them the desert valley stretched out towards the base of the mountains.
‘Joey, will you just look at that view. So much space.’ She pointed to a distant mountain topped with white snow. ‘That mountain looks like an ice-cream cone, doesn’t it?’
A small grin appeared on Joey’s pinched face. ‘Can we make snowballs, Mom?’
‘The snow’s too far away to walk to, honey, but maybe one day we’ll go up there.’
Joey grew serious again. ‘Mom, when am I going to see Dad? Is he coming to Palm Desert, too?’ he asked anxiously.
Babs inhaled sharply. She had been dreading this question. She knelt down in front of Joey. ‘Darling, I think it might be better if we don’t see Daddy for a while,’ she said gently. ‘But you’re going to love it here. It’s so beautiful. We’re going to have a marvellous new life, a better one, you’ll see.’ Joey nodded and Babs put her arms around him and hugged him briefly. Releasing Joey, Babs straightened up and looked across to the serene mountains. She thought about her plans for the future. She wondered if she had been too optimistic about them. What if she failed? She couldn’t go back to Portland. She felt fear rise in her chest.
‘Mom, look at the horse!’ said Joey. He tugged at her hand and pointed down the road. A horse was trotting towards them, whinnying loudly. Sacks of what looked like corn hung behind the saddle, and in front of the rider sat a small boy, younger than Joey. The man was dressed in leather chaps and a faded blue shirt, while the boy had straight dark hair, cut below his ears. Joey stared at them, fascinated.