White Gum Creek

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  For a second Viv’s face softened as she recalled the incident.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘the thing that got her in more trouble was that she said it didn’t matter how hard he tried he was too old to be relevant.’

  Tash laughed.

  ‘It was a beautiful moment.’

  ‘Yes, yes it was,’ Viv admitted with a hint of a smile.

  ‘I’m not saying that you should forget Sophie—none of us will. But don’t you think she’d want you to be happy and not go gunning for Nick all the time?’

  ‘It’s just that I can’t believe she’s gone. It’s not fair.’ Viv’s demeanour seemed to deflate before Tash’s eyes as she said this. It seemed to Tash that Viv was as haunted as Nick was.

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Tash said gently. ‘And you don’t have to like Nick or spend time with him. Just let him be and get on with your own life. Remember that Sophie loved you both.’

  Viv glanced up at her for a second and then nodded.

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘That’s all I ask. Now, would you like some bread?’

  ***

  Nick walked into the caravan. He was hot and tired and just wanted a shower. He’d spent the afternoon making sure that the water troughs were filled up and putting down hay. It wasn’t officially a drought, but summer had dried up most of the grass and the autumn rains hadn’t come yet. Nick had done pretty well, but from now on until they got some decent rain he’d have to continue supplementing the mob’s diet.

  On a positive note, his sheep were all in good condition. He may have let the farm fall into disrepair in the past, but he never compromised his responsibilities towards his animals, even though it was a small herd. He’d planned ahead and the big shed was filled with hay he’d grown last season. He’d put in several acres and had enough to feed the sheep right through the year.

  Nick took off his hat and chucked it on the table. His shirt followed next. He dropped it on the floor as he walked over and flicked on the small air conditioner. It wouldn’t take long to cool the place down, which was a good thing as the air was overly warm and close. He was about to head back out to the shower when a hint of a half-familiar scent caught his attention. He turned off the air conditioner and sniffed the air—nothing. It must have been his imagination, or maybe too much sun.

  He walked towards the opposite end of the caravan and stood by the bed, where the vague scent lingered. He closed his eyes and tried to remember why it smelled so familiar. It was light and fresh and lemony, and reminded him of sunshine and summer. He took a deep breath to try to capture it, and then wished he hadn’t. Everything fell into place in an instant—it was Sophie’s perfume. How could he have ever forgotten it? She had worn it all the time; it was just as much a part of her as was her smile.

  Nick looked around for the source, not that he expected to see the ghost of his wife manifesting in the corner. There was no reason for the fragrance to be in the air. Nothing that belonged to Sophie was still in the caravan, he was sure of that. There was no way he’d accidently left a bottle of her perfume sitting around unnoticed.

  If Nick had been in the same place he’d been in the past, this would have sent him over the edge. But he wasn’t unhinged by grief any longer. Someone was messing with him and although he had a fair idea who it was, he didn’t know why anyone could hate him enough to do this stuff.

  The shower would have to wait; Nick needed some answers. He tossed back the bed covers and threw his pillows to the floor. Wedged between the bedhead and the mattress was a small wad of cotton wool. He picked it up. It was soaked with Sophie’s perfume. There was nothing otherworldly about it. This was nasty and cruel, but not ghostly. Nick chucked the cotton wool into the bin and washed his hands.

  Anger simmered inside him as he stomped his way outside and towards the shed. Someone had taken Sophie’s memory and screwed with it—and that was unforgivable.

  He opened the double doors of the big shed and made his way past the tractor and hay bales to the back. A ladder led up to a loft that Nick used for storage. Over the past few years he’d barely been up there—but someone else had. It was the only explanation as to how Sophie’s possessions kept turning up. Nick moved a couple of boxes and an old wooden barrel he’d inherited when he bought the place. Behind them sat the large wooden chests. They were filled with memories of what his life used to be.

  Nick stood for a moment in silence. He hadn’t opened these up in five years—but he suspected someone had. A thin layer of dust covered everything up here except for the chests.

  Chapter 18

  Tash was driving along Mopoke Lane on her way out to Nick’s place. The sun had just fallen behind the distant hill, leaving a fiery pink sky. The lane meandered over the flats, through the low hills which sat just outside the town and along the edge of White Gum Creek.

  Even though autumn had arrived the days were still warm and dusty, so it was a relief to see that the creek was still flowing, even if it was only a trickle, and there was still a touch of green along its banks. The creek made her feel that she was away from the hum of the town and out in the bush.

  Just after the road swept around in a gentle bend, Tash pulled over and parked her car in a picnic area, which consisted of an old concrete table and bench under a group of poplar trees and a half-rusted sign. Most people never bothered to stop here, but Tash believed it was one of the best spots to watch the creek spill over the smooth river stones.

  The fact was she always felt better after sitting on the old table and watching the creek. It was a good place to think and soak in the natural beauty, which Tash occasionally forgot to take in. The air was warm and Tash could hear the buzz of a blowfly as it hovered too close to her head. She waved it away, took a deep breath, and let the tensions of the day fall away.

  She had told Nick that she’d be at his place by about seven, which gave her a good half an hour. Plenty of time to unwind.

  Tash leaned back on her arms and let the breeze waft over her. This thing with Nick was going well. She knew that they were taking it slow, and part of her thought it was a good idea. The other part…Well, that was another story. What they’d been doing up to this point had been nice—a lot of hand holding and a pretty decent kiss—and she knew that they were meant to be taking little baby steps, but bloody hell, they had been tiny.

  What Nick didn’t realise was the effect he had on her when he was standing close. It took all her willpower to stop herself from grabbing him and throwing him on the nearest bed, floor, any damn surface…She had wanted him for such a long time, and to be honest, all this delayed satisfaction and anticipation could be really tiring. Tash knew that he didn’t want to make a mistake, but if they kept going at this rate, who the hell knew how long it would take?

  That was probably unfair, but Tash had had enough of waiting. In her mind, she’d waited for years. She let out a long sigh, watching the leaves of the gums across the other side of the creek undulate in the breeze.

  Tash continued to mull over her relationship with Nick. They had something that, with a little work, could be turned into a firm foundation, but right now they were in a holding pattern. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy what they had; she did. But they couldn’t carry on this way indefinitely; something had to give, and maybe it only needed a gentle nudge.

  With thoughts of Nick still playing on her mind, Tash wandered back to her car. She plugged in her phone and scrolled through her music until she found a tune that mirrored her hopeful determination. The music filled the car as she pulled on to the road and continued on her way to Winters Hill. The road had a series of bends over the next kilometre, which meant that even though it was quiet, Tash had to keep her wits about her. Living in the country, other cars were the least of her problems. There were slow moving tractors, mobs of sheep moving from one paddock to another, cyclists and the odd kamikaze kangaroo, not to mention the time she was once confronted by old Mr Walsh’s prize bull standing his ground on on
e of these bends. Apparently, the bull, Goliath, was in the mood to play chicken with whatever crossed his path. Tash hadn’t liked her chances so she rang the local police to tell them about the belligerent and immovable obstacle on Mopoke Lane. As a result, what was supposed to have been a quick trip turned into an absolute saga as she had to wait for Mr Walsh, his farmhands and a couple of cops to come down and try to entice Goliath back off the road.

  Tash glanced in her rear-vision mirror and frowned. Wow, that’d come out of nowhere. A small white truck was now sitting right behind her. It wasn’t one of those huge ones that delivered from Melbourne to the outlying regional centres, but it still managed to dwarf Tash’s car. As she rounded another bend, she kept checking the mirror. The truck was too close, almost tailgating her, which was a bloody stupid thing to do, especially on this road. Tash slowed down a fraction, and the truck reduced its speed but didn’t pull back.

  ‘Come on, buddy, back off!’

  Tash negotiated another bend; there were four more before the road finally straightened out. She thought about pulling off to the side and letting the idiot pass, but there wasn’t anywhere to do that safely. She kept going and hoped that he’d be forced to slow down by the next bend. The turn was deceptive; at first you think it will be a gentle arc but halfway through you realise that it’s sharper than you first thought. Officially the bend didn’t have a name, but locally it was known as The Trickster. It had been the cause of several accidents over the years. Some were just bingles, but two were serious and one claimed a life.

  Tash knew the dangers of The Trickster, but it was becoming clear that the clown behind her didn’t. ‘Bloody idiot is going to get us both killed,’ she muttered under her breath as the truck edged out over the centre line. Tash slowed again as the truck started to pass her.

  Tash tapped her foot on the brake again. If another car was coming in the opposite direction, none of them would have a chance. The truck had pulled up alongside but then just sat there, mirroring her speed.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

  Tash gripped the wheel as she edged over the verge of the road, the tyres running off the asphalt and on to the dusty ground. Beyond the edge, the land dropped down about a metre before gradually easing off towards the creek. It was covered in low scrub and patches of dirt where no rain had killed off the grass. Her car ran over the white line, kicking up a great cloud of dust, and Tash tried to put distance between herself and the truck. Just as the road was beginning to ease out of the bend, the truck swung in close and nudged Tash’s car.

  ‘What the—?’

  The impact made her little car shudder and, in an instant, pushed it off its intended trajectory. The car veered off the road and bumped down the bank towards the creek. Tash let out a scream as she clung on to the wheel. The car gathered momentum as it ran down the hill, and she rammed her foot on the brake. For a second Tash thought she was going to end up in the creek, but instead the car careened into a copse of small saplings hugging the water’s edge. There was a loud bang as the car hit the trees. The force threw her forward, a sharp pain exploding as she hit her head on the steering wheel.

  Tash sat in stunned silence, cradling her head in her right hand. The last strains of the song were still playing, but she could barely hear it over the pounding of her heart. With some apprehension, she took her hand away from her head and saw there was a smear of blood. Tash undid her seat belt, grabbed her phone and got out of the car. The air was still warm, but she shuddered anyway. She looked up to the road, but the truck was nowhere in sight.

  Bastard!

  Her hands shook as she rang Nick’s number. After what seemed to be an age, Tash finally heard his comforting voice.

  ‘Nick, it’s Tash. I’m on Mopoke Lane. Someone has just run me off the road.’

  ‘What? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes…no…Can you come and get me?’

  ‘Hold on, sweetheart, I’m on my way.’

  ***

  Tash was leaning against the ute. Nick had his arm around her.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened, Tash?’ Senior Sergeant Jake Wilkins asked.

  ‘There’s not that much to tell. A small white truck came up behind me and drove me off the road.’

  ‘Can you think of anything else?’ Jake urged. ‘Even the smallest thing could be significant.’

  Tash closed her eyes for a second and felt Nick’s arm tighten around her.

  ‘Don’t suppose this can wait,’ he asked.

  Jake shook his head.

  ‘I’ll try and get it done as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tash said. ‘I was on my way over to Nick’s place and decided to drive down Mopoke Lane. I stopped and watched the creek for a few minutes and then carried on. All of a sudden, a white truck starts tailgating me. I slowed down, hoping that it would make him pull back, but it didn’t. Anyway, just as we were driving around The Trickster, he speeds up and pulls alongside. I thought he was going to pass, which was bloody stupid as we were on a bend, but he didn’t. He just sat there next to me. And every time I slowed down or sped up, he’d do the same. Whoever it was was doing it on purpose. I have to admit, I was scared. Just as we were in the middle of the bend he veered over and hit my car. It was enough to force my car off the road and end up…well…here.’

  Tash pointed to where her car was still rammed up against a group of saplings.

  ‘You’re lucky the trees were there, otherwise you might have ended up in the creek,’ Nick said.

  ‘I don’t suppose you caught sight of the number plate or anything that could help identify the truck?’ asked Jake.

  ‘Sorry, I should have, but it all happened so fast…’

  ‘It’s okay.’ He glanced at Nick. ‘Why don’t the two of you get out of here? Tash looks like she could do with a nice cup of tea.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea.’

  Jake smiled.

  ‘Now are you sure we can’t convince you to go the hospital and get that checked out?’ He indicated to her head.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ Tash assured him. ‘It was just a bump and a bit of blood. It’ll be fine.’

  ‘All the same, I think we should have it checked out,’ Nick said. ‘It would be the smart thing to do. Look, if you don’t want to go to the hospital, we could swing by the medical centre in Castlemaine.’

  ‘I think Nick has a point,’ Jake said.

  ‘Okay, fine, if it will make the two of you happy, I’ll get checked out. Hang on, what about my car?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, it’s sorted. Gary from the garage at Barker’s Creek is coming over to get it,’ Nick said. ‘Why don’t you jump in the car? I just need to have a quick word to Jake.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tash said as she pushed herself away from the ute and the warmth of Nick’s arm.

  Nick and Jake walked off towards the creek.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jake asked as he stared ahead.

  ‘This might not have anything to do with what happened to Tash, but I thought I should tell you anyway. I’ve been having some odd things happen at home.’

  ‘What, more vandalism? I thought we had that sorted.’

  Nick glanced over his shoulder at Tash.

  ‘No, it’s not that. I’ve had weird stuff happening. At first I thought I was going mad, but someone is messing with me.’

  Jake frowned.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Nick seemed a little nervous to be telling Jake this stuff. ‘I keep finding things—items, you know—and knickknacks that belonged to Sophie. They turn up where they shouldn’t be. Look, I know that sounds crazy, but I believe there could be a link.’

  ‘Sorry, Nick, you’re going to have to explain that one to me again.’

  ‘I believe that someone is purposely harassing me into believing that I’m being haunted by my wife. I’ve found pictures out of place, and after I put them away they materialise again. There’s a couple of boxes in the loft that are full of Sop
hie’s stuff. What I’m saying is that some of these old items are finding their way into the caravan and I’m not the one doing it.’

  ‘Okay, I understand. But how could that throw any light on what happened here?’

  It was easy to see that Jake was unsettled by this story. He was a pragmatic man who liked things to be straightforward and predictable. All this stuff was too unpredictable, and too hard to pin down.

  Nick ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I can tell you that this only started when I began going out again and meeting people.’

  ‘Nothing happened when you were a practising recluse?’

  ‘That’s right. It wasn’t until I started venturing out in public again that this started. No…actually, that’s not right. It only started when I began socialising again. Like the poker night I go to with Matt and Freddy.’

  ‘And you’re saying that it’s got worse?’

  Nick thought about it for a second.

  ‘Yeah, it’s intensified since I started seeing Tash. But even before that. I went out with Jules Harvey a few times; I think it started around then.’ Nick sighed. ‘It might not have anything to do with this. For all we know, the driver of the white truck could have been drunk, or angry at life, or a serial killer.’ He tried to smile.

  ‘Thanks, Nick,’ Jake said. ‘Listen, could you drop in tomorrow so we can go over this again and make a record of it? Meantime, write down everything that’s happened and don’t leave anything out. It could be someone with a grudge towards you or it could just be a coincidence. Either way, I’ll look into it.’

  ***

  Nick drove Tash to the medical centre to get checked out. The doctor was sympathetic, and told her she was lucky to get away with just a bump on the head. The cut was small and didn’t need stitches, and enough time had passed to dismiss any concerns about concussion. Tash shot Nick a look as if to say: see, I told you I didn’t need to come; but he was still glad that they had.