Alice nodded. Her hands were sweaty inside her fire gloves. She gripped her drip torch tightly, but its weight made her arm shake. The sound of the fuel sloshing about inside made her queasy.
‘Radios?’ Aiden asked. The group checked their radios. ‘Right. Let’s light ’em up.’
One by one the wicks of the drip torches were lit. Alice flinched as hers ignited. It hissed like a living thing. Her hand shook.
‘Make sure your breather valves are open,’ Aiden called. He turned to Alice. ‘Drop the flames to the ground behind you, like this,’ he said, lowering his drip torch to a spinifex tussock, setting it alight and walking away. He burned and walked, burned and walked. ‘Walk away from it.’
The hiss and crackle of the earth catching fire rose around them. She tried to focus on her boot-clad feet as she walked at a slow pace through the red dirt and bushes, lowering her drip torch and dropping flames behind her.
One, two, drop. One, two, drop.
I’m, here, drop. I’m, here, drop.
The memory played out in front of her: the blurred ground beneath her as she and Toby ran from her father’s shed. The hot wind on her face. The lightning cracking the sky into pieces. Her beautiful mother, coming beaten from the sea.
‘Alice.’
She hadn’t realised she’d stopped walking.
‘Keep going,’ Aiden instructed the rest of the group. He called her name again across the paddock, fifty metres away.
‘You’re just going to take a step, towards me, now.’ His face was calm and his voice was steady.
She looked down at her feet. They would not move.
‘Alice, you can do this. Walk to me. Now,’ Aiden said more urgently.
She was shaking; the can of fuel and drip torch wobbled heavily in her hands. Her feet would not budge. Heat from the wall of fire behind her began to radiate through her fire gear.
‘Alice.’ Aiden began to run to her.
She could not move.
He reached her side, bracing her. ‘I’m going to take you by the arm and we’re going to run together, okay?’
Alice nodded. Using his weight Aiden jolted her forward. She ran awkwardly by his side, watching her feet move out of time with his.
When they were safely away from the fire line, Aiden took his pack off and opened it, retrieving a water bottle and some jelly beans.
‘Here,’ he said, handing her both. Watched her carefully as she ate and drank.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered, handing his water bottle back once she’d had enough.
‘Has it passed?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘Lulu has panic attacks too sometimes. Tries to tell me they’re vertigo.’
Alice glanced away. She didn’t know Lulu suffered from anxiety too.
‘How are you feeling now? Do you need me to radio HQ and ask someone to come and get you?’
‘No,’ Alice answered. ‘No, I’ll be fine.’ She tightened her grasp on the drip torch. ‘I’m fine,’ she said again, willing strength in her voice.
Aiden studied her. ‘Righto,’ he said, nodding as he put his pack on. ‘Let’s work together, though. Follow my lead.’
As she and Aiden walked the paddock, working together to light a methodical line of fire, Alice felt her shoulders relax and her hand steady. With his support and watchful eye, she got the job done.
After an hour, they were collected by the pick-up team on quad bikes and driven ahead, until there was a decent distance between them and the fires. At the top of a dune they stopped to have lunch in the shade of desert oaks. Alice closed her eyes as she took a long drink from her water bottle. Her armpits were damp from the cold sweat of fear.
While the group ate their sandwiches and chatted, Alice sat to the side and kept her back turned to the distant wave of orange flames behind them. When she caught Aiden’s eye, she didn’t suppress her grateful smile.
At the end of the day, back at headquarters, Alice hurried to finish up and get home to Dylan. She was just about to leave when Aiden interrupted.
‘Mate, I’ve been called out to help on sunset patrol, which leaves us short a set of hands to tick off safety checks. It shouldn’t take too long. Would you mind?’
Alice swallowed her rising fear. ‘Sure,’ she said, masking her nervousness.
‘Hey, Pinta-Pinta,’ Ruby called from across the car park. ‘I’ll give you a hand, then you can give me a lift home.’
‘Great,’ Aiden said. ‘More the merrier. Thanks, Alice.’ He turned away but stopped and came back, his arms open wide. ‘You did great today. Well done.’ He gave her a short but warm hug.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I really appreciate that. And all your help today.’
After Aiden left, as Ruby and Alice walked towards the work shed, a revving engine caught Alice’s attention. Her stomach plummeted as she recognised Dylan’s profile in a work ute, speeding away from headquarters.
By the time Alice and Ruby wrapped up, Alice’s gut was twisted in a hard knot of fear.
‘Nyuntu palya, Pinta-Pinta?’ Ruby asked as she climbed up into Alice’s truck. ‘You okay?’
Alice didn’t answer. She couldn’t trust her voice.
‘That fire scared you today,’ Ruby stated. Alice nodded again without replying. ‘Uwa, fire can be scary, yes. But it is also many other things. Like medicine. Fire keeps the land healthy, and so keeps us healthy. Where we have fire, we have home. That’s not so scary, is it?’
‘Medicine?’ Alice asked distractedly.
‘That paddock you burned today,’ Ruby explained, ‘was covered in seedpods that need fire to split open and germinate. Without your fire today, the land gets sick. The land gets sick, our stories get sick, we get sick.’
‘Fire has never been medicine to me,’ Alice said quietly. ‘I thought it might have been once. But I’ve only ever known it to be the end of things.’
In her peripheral vision, Alice saw Ruby studying her. Their hand radios interrupted, crackling to life and calling Ruby’s name. Ruby unclipped hers from her belt, responded, and clipped it back in place.
They drove the rest of the way home in silence.
After Alice dropped Ruby off, she doubled back to the work yard. Dylan’s work ute was parked outside the workshop. Had he seen her hugging Aiden? Would it be a problem? Surely not, she reasoned. They’d not had lunch as planned, nor been in touch through the day, but he’d understand that she’d been out on fire work. And, as Sarah said that morning, Dylan had been on burnings many times. He wouldn’t begrudge her the chance to learn.
As Alice walked in, she flickered with hope that he would not be jealous, of Aiden, or her day. He’d told her she was the love of his life. What kind of disservice was she doing to their relationship if she didn’t trust that and believe in him? She imagined how the scene might unfold: he’d wrap her in a hug and tell her how proud he was of her. Whisk her home, crack a beer, and ask a flurry of questions, wanting to hear all about her day.
He didn’t look up from his emails when she walked in. The screen threw a sickly light on his face.
‘Hey,’ she said, forcing herself to smile.
His jaw was set. He didn’t respond. She waited.
‘Did you hear? I did my first controlled burn today,’ she said. The tightness of her smile hurt her face. He still didn’t look at her. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
‘I heard,’ he said, staring at his computer. ‘No surprise there, though, the darling of the park getting chosen to do fire work.’
Fear cut through her stomach. When he turned to face her, his eyes were dark and sunken, his lips pale.
‘But this is what you do, right? With your big eyes, and your butterflies, and your smile. People can’t get enough of you, can they? And you play them like a fucking song.’
Her feet were root-bound.
‘So, how was fire work, then?’ His lips stretched in a cruel smile. ‘Go on. You want to tell me all about it? Tell me all about it then. Wh
o were you on a quad bike with? Hey?’ He shoved his chair back; she flinched. ‘Who’d you have your legs wrapped around on a quad bike, Alice?’ He slammed his hand on the desk. ‘Because I checked your training sheet and you don’t have your quad bike licence. So, who the fuck were you all cosied up to? And don’t you fucking lie to me.’ Spittle gathered in the corners of his mouth. She couldn’t speak.
‘Tell me who you were with,’ he screamed.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. He moved so fast she didn’t have time to brace herself. He grabbed one of her arms and wrenched it behind her back.
‘Tell me,’ he whispered.
When he threw her into the wall, the force of his strength winded her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hear. She willed herself to flee.
‘Yeah, that’s it, run away, you fucking prick-tease. I saw you hugging Aiden. I know what you are. Go on. Run away.’ His voice roared after her. ‘Good fucking riddance.’
Later she would remember her body moving independently of her mind. Twisting out and away from him. Running to her truck. Turning the key in the ignition and simultaneously pressing her foot down on the accelerator. Again, her mind floated somewhere above her, disconnected, watching herself drive. She stopped at Dylan’s gate to gather Pip into her arms, returned to her truck and allowed the headlights to guide her safely home.
When she drove around the bend in the road there was a dusty rental car parked in her driveway. Alice pulled up and walked shakily alongside the car, peering through the windows.
Low voices came from around the back, the rich scent of tobacco smoke. Pip ran ahead through the garage.
Her legs were leaden. She walked slowly out to the patio.
There, in the last of the day’s light, stood Twig and Candy Baby.
26
Lantern bush
Meaning: Hope may blind me
Abutilon leucopetalum | Northern Territory
Tjirin-tjirinpa (Pit.) is found in dry, often rocky inland regions. Leaves have a heart-shaped base. Yellow hibiscus-like flowers appear mostly in winter and spring, but can sometimes appear endlessly, their bright colour shining all year round. Used by Anangu children to make small toy spears.
Candy broke down. She rushed to Alice and fussed, stroking her face and hair.
Twig hung back. She dropped her smoke at her feet and put it out under the heel of her boot. Once Candy let her go, Twig stepped forward and pulled Alice into her arms.
Alice shook as she made tea. Smoke clung to her skin, to her hair. Dylan’s rage continued to play on her. The revulsion on his face. The harmful intent of his strength.
She carried three cups of tea to the table where Candy and Twig sat, so familiar but so out of context in her desert life. Set them down, trembling.
‘Are you all right?’ Candy reached forward, putting her hand over Alice’s.
Alice sat, closed her eyes briefly and gave a nod.
‘How did you find me?’ she murmured.
They exchanged a glance.
Twig took a sip of tea. ‘Moss Fletcher.’
‘As in, the vet?’ Alice exclaimed, her mind reeling. ‘In Agnes Bluff?’
Twig nodded. ‘He read the insignia on your truck when he took you to the doctor. Googled Thornfield, called us looking for next of kin. He rang us after you emailed him and said you were here.’
Alice couldn’t look at either of them. ‘He had no business doing that.’ Dylan’s voice: You play them like a fucking song.
‘Maybe not,’ Candy said gently. ‘But we were so relieved when he rang.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘You just left, sweetpea,’ she said. ‘I texted and called and emailed you every day …’ her voice broke. ‘You just left.’
Outside her fairy lights twinkled in the bruised sky. Would he call? Her head ached. The adrenalin was fading, leaving a silt of exhaustion in her body.
‘You know why I “just left”,’ Alice said. ‘What else was I supposed to do?’
‘I know it’s so hard to see it this way, but June was trying to protect you.’
‘Oh god. This isn’t …’ Alice abruptly stood and pushed her chair in. ‘I can’t do this,’ she said, holding her hands up. She had no fight left in her. She didn’t want them there. Her mind was a mess; all she could think about was Dylan. She didn’t have room for ghosts and old memories. Besides, deep down she knew she was being unfair. They didn’t deserve her fear, pain and anger. The best thing she could do for everyone was take some time out.
‘I just need a moment.’ Alice turned her back and headed for the shower. As she was about to shut the bathroom door, Candy spoke.
‘She’s dead, Alice.’
The words hit her like a trio of explosions. She could see Candy’s lips moving, but heard only snippets.
‘… a massive heart attack …’
Alice shook her head, trying to hear. Her legs were numb.
‘… we were cut off from town by the floods. Day and night she sat on the back verandah, watching the water rise. We found her, eyes wide open, staring out at the ruined flowers.’ Candy’s face was empty.
Alice looked at them both, as if seeing them properly for the first time. Candy’s eyes were bloodshot; her blue hair was dull and brittle. Twig’s hair had silvered at her temples. Even under her utilitarian clothes, her frame was visibly gaunt.
June was dead.
Alice stumbled into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, pressing herself against it as her legs gave out. She sank to the floor. Desperate for comfort, she turned on a warm shower. Clambered in, fully clothed, and sat under the water. Held her face up to it. Pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and let herself wail.
Alice stayed in the bathroom long after she’d showered. She wrapped herself in towels and lay in the empty bath, her eyes closed, unwilling to move, unwilling to speak.
Through the walls came the muffled sound of Twig and Candy talking in the lounge room. Sliding the back door open. Teacups being washed in the kitchen sink. The squawk of her dining chairs on the lino. Footsteps to the bathroom door.
‘Alice.’ Twig’s voice. ‘I think it’s best we go and get a room at the resort. Give you some space. It was a mistake to bring you this news without any warning.’ A pause. ‘We’re very sorry.’ Another pause. Receding footsteps. At the sound of her front door opening, remorse hauled Alice out of the bath. She flung the door open. Pip rushed in, weaving herself around Alice’s legs.
‘Wait,’ she called.
Twig and Candy were already outside. At the sound of her voice, they stepped back through the front door.
‘You could stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. I’m off work now for four days.’ She raised her chin. ‘You should stay. We should talk.’ Her heart beat steadfast in her ears.
They glanced at each other. Candy was the first to speak. ‘How about I rustle up something for a late dinner? We aren’t of any use to each other on empty stomachs.’
While Candy helped herself to the kitchen and Twig sat out the back to roll a smoke, Alice went into her bedroom to get dressed. Every movement took monumental effort. Knickers on. Had June been in pain? One leg. Next leg. Did she know she was dying when the heart attack happened? Shirt over her head. Did she cry or call out for anyone? Was she scared? Alice’s head felt too heavy for her neck to carry. She crawled into bed, just for a moment, seeking the comfort of her pillow. Curled into herself.
There he was.
The smell of his cologne on her shirt, the wending green scent and something else besides. His body, his dreams and his breath, earthen and salty.
Alice lifted the neck of her shirt over her nose, inhaling deeply. He’d been upset, he’d been excluded from the burn. He was sensitive to her attracting other men’s attention. She should have been more mindful. She should go to him and apologise. He’d just lost his temper. Everyone does that now and then.
Alice tried to quell her tears. She sat up and turned her lamp off. Looked across the dun
es to his house. It sat dark and unlit, a shadowy hulk under the star-splashed sky.
When she awoke the next morning to the smell of brewing coffee and the sounds of Candy and Twig in the kitchen, Alice didn’t know where she was, in time or place. She could have been nine. Sixteen. Twenty-seven.
‘Cuppa?’ Candy asked as Alice plodded into the living room, bleary-eyed.
‘Yes, please.’
‘How’d you sleep?’ Twig asked.
‘Dreamlessly.’ Alice yawned. ‘You?’
‘Fine.’ Twig nodded.
‘We felt like schoolgirls on camp. Imagine that at our ages.’ Candy smiled, handing Alice a steaming cup of coffee. She nodded in thanks.
Silence settled over them. Outside, Pip chased her tail in circles.
‘She needs to get out.’ Alice took a sip of her coffee. ‘There’s a track I walk sometimes, from my back fence to the crater wall. It leads to a view I think you’d like.’
With Pip scampering ahead, Alice, Twig and Candy walked through the bush. Occasionally one of them stopped to point out a desert rose, or wedge-tailed eagle gliding overhead. Mostly they walked wordlessly as they followed the trail up the crater wall. When they reached the viewing platform, Twig was wheezing. She sat in the shade to catch her breath.
‘It’s those bloody durries you smoke all day long,’ Candy chided. Twig shooed her away.
Alice passed water around and poured some in a bowl for Pip, who lay panting by Twig. The morning air cooled their skin. They turned to the view of the crater. The desert peas swayed bright red.
‘How spectacular.’ Candy sighed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many desert peas in one place.’
‘They draw tourists from all over the world.’
‘They’ll flower now right through summer until autumn.’ Twig jutted her chin towards the crater. ‘Where my family’s from, down south, we call them flowers of blood,’ she said quietly. ‘In our stories, they grow where blood has spilled.’
‘You’ve never told me that,’ Candy said. ‘Is that why you always took such care growing them at Thornfield?’
The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart Page 29