Raintree Valley

by Violet Winspear

  She took a deep breath of the air that had a buoyancy in it, as if champagne tickled her nose. Vance slowed the jeep and directed her attention to a blue gum tree and a pair of koalas playing in the branches and nibbling the tips of the leaves. They had black-button noses, innocent eyes, and a furry teddy-bear look. ‘Cute, eh?’ Vance smiled at Joanna. ‘Cuddly and trusting, and they never bite.’

  ‘I must take a snap of them!’ She leaned over to the back seat to open her suitcase, in which her small camera was tucked down in a corner. She felt Vance’s hand against her waist, holding her as she adjusted the camera and took a picture of the koalas.

  ‘You’ll see dozens of them around the homestead,’ he laughed.

  ‘I want to send snaps to Gran,’ she explained, sliding down into her seat. ‘If she sees what a lovely place Raintree is, then she won’t imagine that I’m somewhere at the back of beyond and in danger from wild men.’

  ‘But, Joanna,’ he leaned near and the breath of a kiss brushed her cheek, ‘this is the back of beyond, and the Corraines do have wild blood in them.’

  She looked into his eyes that were the deep blue of evening skies - unlike Adam’s, that were like the sky early in the morning, cool and clear and silvery.

  ‘Are those wide white gates the entrance to the station?’ She pointed along the road.

  ‘Yes, those are the gates of the kingdom,’ he jested.

  As they approached the gates an aborigine boy slid off a rail and swung them wide open. He stared at Joanna, hitched his pants and went back to his perch.

  ‘You should be at school,’ Vance called out as they passed through the gates. ‘Adoniah will tan your breeches.’

  The boy shrugged. ‘Don’t have to know sums to be stockman,’ he retorted.

  ‘Don’t you be so sure.’ A grin twitched at the corner of Vance’s mouth. ‘Those cows have got to be counted at the mustering.’

  ‘Boss do that. The Boss do all the figuring.’

  ‘Sure, the Boss is mighty clever, but he had to go to school to get that way.’

  The boy looked sceptical, as if in his opinion Adam Corraine’s wisdom was a gift of the gods.

  ‘Come on, jump on the running-board and we’ll drop you off at school.’

  The boy stared again at Joanna and when she smiled at him, he came running across and took a show-off leap on to the running-board at her side of the jeep. His skin was like brown satin and his teeth gleamed rice-white in the shy smile he gave her. She was to learn that Adam Corraine’s best stockriders were aborigine men, who lived on the station with their families and had their own houses set among the mango and candelabra trees.

  The wooden school building was surrounded by a picket fence and a bronze bell hung in the porch. The sound of the assembly hymn sounded sweet on the morning air as the reluctant pupil entered the school.

  ‘Adoniah Smith is another of our remarkable characters,’ smiled Vance. ‘He not only runs the school, but he can shoe a horse, play a violin, and grow roses. Roses, Joanna, in this part of the world - deep red ones.’

  ‘I’m beginning to believe that this place is truly Shangri-la.’ She looked about her at the bungalows set among the shade trees, at smoothly kept lawns on which cane chairs and tables were set, where children’s toys lay bright in the sun, and bits and pieces of washing dried white in the warmth. A tame goose strutted across the buffalo grass, and a slim dark girl waved as they passed by.

  ‘That’s Lenita, the Italian wife of one of our stockmen. They’ve not long had a bambino, and is Boye proud of his son!’

  Joanna glanced back at the lovely Italian girl, like a picture against a background of red poinciana trees and a coolibah that shaded a child’s cradle.

  To be a painter!’ Joanna exclaimed. ‘One would go beautifully mad trying to get it all down on canvas.’

  Vance chuckled. ‘Aunt Charly is an inspired amateur. A couple of her paintings adorn the walls of my bungalow.’

  ‘Don’t you live with the family up at the house?’ Joanna gave him a surprised look, and wondered in that moment if any antagonism lay between him and his cousin Adam.

  ‘I prefer a bachelor bungalow,’ he said suavely. ‘I take my meals up at the homestead, but it suits me better to have my own place with my own things around me. You’ll have to call on me, Joanna. I’ll make you very welcome.’

  She heard him and smiled absently, for most of her attention was upon the building they had come in sight of, the house built long ago by King Corraine and crowning the flat summit of a hill. It rambled as good houses should and had walls aglow with mauve clouds of bougainvillea. It was fronted by the graceful wrought-iron beloved of the Victorians, and slender pillars supported a deep shady veranda that winged around the house with covered ways leading to courts and gardens. The louvred shutters beyond the front veranda were open to let in the breeze, singing now and again through the tall trees. Soon she would know the name of all the trees and meant to know them, but right now she sat bemused as Vance braked the jeep in front of the homestead.

  It was so strong and so right, set there on a summit overlooking the valley. A place of cedar and iron and lion-gold stone, its shady veranda rooms overhung by a wide-roofed upper storey. With flowering vines clustering around the pillars, soft veils against the stone, and cane long chairs and rattan tables set about within the veranda, the beams of the cedar retreat from the sun hung with lamps and baskets of flowers.

  There the family would sit when the sun went down and the men rode in from the hills. They would watch the stars in the vast, immeasurable sky of this faraway land, and the smell of coffee would mingle with all the scents drifting up from Raintree Valley.

  She followed Vance up the steps of the veranda and across to the louvred door that led into the house. The heat faded to coolness in the long, fan-serviced lounge. The walls were panelled in golden bamboo, woven rugs lay on the polished boards of the floor, and there were armchairs with comfortable dents in them. It was a restful room, with one vivid painting of a pearling lugger with her sails set wide against the sea and the sky.

  Joanna gave a start — as if out of a dream - as Vance bent to a table and rang the cowbell that stood on it, ‘Aunt Charly is probably in the kitchen helping to prepare lunch. The kitchen is way back, but she’ll hear the bell. It might take her a few minutes to join us,’ Vance added. ‘She broke a bone in her foot and it’s still in plaster - there, can you hear the sound of her stick?’

  It was plain in the stillness that hung over the house, and once again Joanna’s heart was beating with the anxiety that she be acceptable in the eyes of a Corraine. Her fingers clenched on the strap of her bag. She didn’t know why she cared so much about being wanted here, but it would be unbearable if she encountered again the coolness and the lack of enthusiasm with which Adam Corraine had received her.’

  The person with the walking stick paused outside the door, and then it was pushed fully open and Charlotte Maud Corraine hobbled into the lounge.

  She stared at Joanna with the penetrating eyes of the family. She took in her skin and her wide eyes that had known only the gentle sunshine of Britain, and she nodded to herself in the way of the elderly. ‘Yes, you are English to your bones, aren’t you?’ Charlotte smiled and the shadow of beauty returned to the face that was seamed by the sun and the years and the pioneer life she had known in Australia. Her voice retained its English tones and there was in her manner something of grandness as she invited Joanna to take a chair.

  ‘Your journey has been a long one, Miss Dowling, but I hope a pleasant one. I expect you could do with a cup of tea? Vance, will you go to the kitchen and brew it? Young Tilly has her hands in a bowl of onions.’

  Vance smiled and gave his aunt a gallant little bow. ‘At your command, Duchess. Neither of us has had breakfast, so I’ll scramble some eggs and ham if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course it is, and I do wish you wouldn’t use slang.’

  ‘How about strine?’ He cocked a lopsid
ed grin at Joanna. ‘Do you fancy some baked necks?’

  ‘Baked necks of what?’ she asked in bewilderment.

  ‘Bacon and eggs,’ he laughed. ‘Australians have a habit of running their words together, haven’t you noticed?’

  ‘Well, I haven’t been here all that long—’

  ‘Stop devilling the young woman and go and make that tea,’ his aunt said severely. ‘She has only just arrived here and hasn’t had time to get used to our outbackish ways. You know where the bacon is hung, and get some new laid eggs out of the nest.’

  He sauntered away, leaving Joanna alone with his aunt, who leaned back in her chair after propping her plastered foot on a hassock. ‘I never thought to take to a stick before I was ninety,’ she said, and there was a shrewd glint in her eye as she looked at Joanna. ‘You seemed apprehensive as I came in just now - were you expecting to find me a crusty old thing who likes giving orders?’

  ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t like me, Miss Corraine.’

  ‘Oh, and why not?’

  ‘Your nephew thinks I shall make a hash of working here.’

  ‘Vance thinks that? I received the impression that he was rather pleased with the arrangement.’

  ‘I meant your nephew Adam—’

  ‘Ah, Adam!’ Charlotte Corraine looked quizzical. ‘So he was at the airstrip to meet you. What did he have to say?’

  Joanna gave an account of the meeting and though she tried to speak as calmly as possible, she couldn’t keep a note of indignation out of her voice. ‘I believe he thinks I’ve come here for a holiday!’

  ‘Tough, open-air men are often of the opinion that unless a woman has brawn she is unfit for anything but a life of idleness.’ Charlotte spoke drily. ‘It’s of little use telling them that a reed will bend in a storm, while a tree will often fall. They have to learn for themselves. I need someone reliable to assist me at Raintree, especially since this pesky accident to my foot, and I sensed that you were from your letters. I like also the spirit of adventure that brought you to Australia.

  ‘No, child,’ Charlotte shook her head at Joanna, ‘don’t tell me you came just for the sake of your sister. You came seeking a new way of life, just as I did many years ago. Though Adam and Vance have always called me their aunt, I was Kingsley Corraine’s cousin and through him I became the correspondent of his best friend out here in Queensland. I received a proposal of marriage by letter, and though you might not think it a very romantic way to fall in love, Logan and I were in love. He was killed in a cattle-stampede the day I arrived at Wandaday, where he was the manager for Kingsley. I stayed on, to become housekeeper for King when his wife died.’

  Charlotte smoothed the curving handle of her stick and a ruby ring gleamed darkly against her brown and weathered hand. An old-fashioned ring, embedded in the third finger of Charlotte’s left hand. The ring that had been sent to her years ago by the lover she had never seen - except perhaps in a photograph.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Joanna murmured. ‘It must have been a great shock for you, losing your fiancé in that way.’

  ‘I never lost Logan, my child. When you love someone, the one person you were meant for, he lives on while you live yourself. He is part of you. I met Logan in my dreams if not in reality. I knew exactly how he looked, and dreams don’t die as you grow older, they grow stronger, just as memories do.’

  There was silence for a moment in the room, while outside in the trees the galahs chattered away. Then Charlotte gave a dry little chuckle. ‘I haven’t talked like this for years. I suppose because there was no one to really listen. The boys have their work and Bonney would laugh at an old lady’s memories.’

  ‘I understand from Mr. Corraine that I am to provide a little companionship for his ward?’ Joanna was now feeling much more relaxed; she could even mention the Boss without that betraying shake of angry distress in her voice. No one had ever looked at her as he had done, as if she were a fair scrounger Vance had brought here for his amusement.

  ‘Well, yes, Adam has some sort of idea that she needs female company,’ Charlotte said with a slight frown.

  ‘Vance said she was pretty.’

  ‘She’s unsettled, Joanna. Doesn’t know what she does want, and talks a lot of nonsense about wanting to be a ballet dancer one day, and a nurse the next. Nurse indeed! She nearly passed out when I had my fall and broke this bone in my foot. Adam chivvied me for trying to do too much, but you can’t rely on the kitchen help. You have to be behind those girls every minute or they forget to put the yeast in the bread and the tea in the pot. Adam said advertise for a strong young wench and make sure she’s used to being miles from a town. Tell her we haven’t got television, a dance hall or a cinema, only a barn house where the latest dance is still the foxtrot.’ Charlotte smiled in her dry way at Joanna. ‘How long does Adam reckon you’ll survive without those amenities?’

  ‘He’s given me a fortnight. In that time, Miss Corraine, I’ve got to prove I can be of use here. If I fail to come up to his expectations then he’s packing me off to Hawk’s Bay, where he thinks I belong in a boutique! He doesn’t spare his punches, does he?’

  ‘He never did, even as a boy. Kingsley was tough with him because the Boss of a station as big as this one has to be a strong pivot around which everything revolves with ease and industry. With a strong man you know where you are. He can come up with the answers when everyone else is stumped. He can bear the burdens. Of course, to be that way takes toll of whatever charm lies under the armour, but Vance has enough charm for the two of them ... as I am sure you have discovered for yourself, Joanna.’

  ‘He was very kind to me at Hawk’s Bay and he made the flight a most interesting one. So many stars.’ Joanna smiled. ‘I could have reached out of the cockpit of the plane and stolen one.’

  ‘Who else but a born charmer would give a girl a ride among the stars?’ Charlotte chuckled. ‘I don’t think Adam would think of anything so romantic.’

  ‘I am sure he wouldn’t!’ Joanna bit her lip. ‘He’d be more likely to ask one to take a stroll among the stinging trees.’

  ‘But among the stinging trees, my dear, orchids sometimes grow.’

  Joanna gazed wide-eyed at Miss Corraine, and it was a relief when the door swung open and Vance entered carrying a loaded tray. There was a delicious smell of bacon and eggs and toast, and Joanna realized that she was ravenous. She and Vance sat down at a table to eat, while Charlotte Corraine sat watching them over the rim of a teacup. There was in her eyes a look of lively interest.

  ‘You see,’ Vance smiled at Joanna, ‘you had no need to be scared of Aunt Charly. She has a heart of pure gold.’

  ‘Vance,’ murmured his aunt, ‘do you mean half the things you say so unblushingly?’

  He grinned across at Charlotte. ‘I brought you back a lively lobster from the bay. He’s out in the jeep in a basket. Bought perfume for the kid, which should take the sulky look off her face for half an hour.’

  ‘She’s restless, Vance. At an age when she’s torn between acting like a child, and trying her wings as a woman.’

  ‘She’s such a little madam at times that I’d tan her bottom if I were Adam.’ Vance spoke with an unusual edge to his voice. ‘It amazes me, Aunt Charly. With that Bonney baby he’s as patient as if gentling a brumbie. Do you reckon he has a father complex about her?’

  ‘He was a great friend of the Ryans, and it was a terrible shock for Bonney, losing both of them at one go.’ Charlotte’s gaze settled on Joanna, who sat listening to the conversation with the intentness of great interest. ‘It was good of Adam, strong of him, to take on the task of telling Bonney her parents had died together in the flood. Lots of men shirk that kind of duty. Reminds me of King when he had to tell me—’

  There Charlotte broke off and clutching her cane she heaved herself to her feet. ‘I’d better check on Tilly and those onions, then I’ll show you to your room, Joanna.’

  ‘You’re kind, Miss Corraine.’ Joanna spoke sincerely, for she ha
d taken an immense liking to the woman who had cared all her life for other people’s children. King’s son, and then his grandsons.

  ‘You must call me Aunt Charly like everyone else,’ she told Joanna. ‘We’re one big family at Raintree.’

  She was gone, the sound of her cane dying away down the passage that led through the house to the kitchen. ‘Salt of the earth,’ said Vance. ‘She’s clung for years to the memory of one man, but no woman with natural instincts should do such a wasteful thing.’

  ‘I don’t think Aunt Charly has wasted her life - not entirely,’ Joanna said softly. ‘She has helped to make Raintree the place it is, and she can’t help but feel proud of being part of its backbone. She may have no sons of her own, but she has you, and your cousin.’

  ‘I thought you disliked him?’ The corners of Vance’s mouth were bent in a grin and his eyes were fixed on her face.

  ‘I’m not saying I like him,’ she rejoined. ‘It isn’t in human nature to like what stings us, but he is obviously a resourceful and keen-minded boss and I expect he will fulfil all his grandfather’s hopes in him.’

  ‘And what of me?’ Vance asked mockingly. He held a hand across the table, palm upwards, strong and brown and calloused from years of gripping the reins of a horse and riding the range that was so richly stocked with Corraine cattle. ‘What do you see in my palm, a long life and a merry one?’

  She smiled, for his lifeline was a long one, stretching across the hand she avoided touching. She was a little afraid of what her reaction would be if she allowed her hand to be enfolded by his.

  ‘You will live to be eighty and your family will be a large one,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘You don’t think I’ll stay a bachelor, Joanna?’

  ‘No man who goes around tossing proposals at girls - as if they were popcorn - is likely to remain a bachelor.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to marry a Corraine, Miss Darling?’

  ‘Not right now.’ And being a girl who couldn’t bear to see unwashed dishes on a table, she jumped to her feet, stacked the tray and asked Vance to show her the way to the kitchen.