by Helene Young
She slid the window down. After the humidity of Cairns it was a relief to feel the dry air on the western Tablelands. With the first deep breath of red dirt and dry grass the tension left her spine.
‘Tastes good,’ she said and Ella laughed.
‘You always say that.’
Felicity stuck her head right out the window, the wind whipping her hair loose from its clip. It must be how the kelpies felt hanging off the ute. ‘It’s the truth,’ she yelled, feeling free for the first time in a week. ‘Tastes like heaven to me!’ A small mob of wallaroo taking shelter under a gangly ironbark raised their heads at the noise, too drowsy in the heat to bother moving. Their large ears twitched to catch her words.
‘You miss it, don’t you?’
‘It’s home,’ she replied, rolling the window up as the heat seeped in. ‘Brisbane never truly felt like it.’
‘Really? Even though you’ve spent thirty years there? With all of us, where we were born?’
Ella sounded wounded and Felicity turned in her seat. She still marvelled that this young woman, with her bright smile and determined chin, was her daughter. Ella had her father’s blonde hair and dusky eyelashes, along with his skin, which tanned easily. ‘Maybe Brisbane was home because we were a family but, since you left and Sean’s barely there, I’ve felt less and less like I belonged.’
‘Is that why things went wrong for you and Dad?’ She looked vulnerable, at odds with the self-confident set of her shoulders. Too easy to underestimate the effect of a divorce on the children as well as the parents.
Ella was still looking for reasons, probably wanting to apportion blame more evenly. Felicity understood that, but it was hard to be even-handed in the face of Todd’s betrayal. She kept her voice low, as though she was dealing with a crisis in the emergency department.
‘I don’t think so. It was no hardship for me to come and visit Mum, whereas Todd hated every minute of it.’ She looked out at the sparse horizon. ‘Godforsaken, he used to call it. Once Dad went, I think he felt like Mum used any excuse to get me up here.’
Ella chuckled. ‘Granny D is a master manipulator!’
‘She’s ninety-three, Ella. Who knows how much longer she’ll be with us?’
Or how much longer we can keep Roseglen, Felicity added to herself. After Charlie passed away, Ivy had mentioned that the property should go to the three of them when she died. A lovely gesture, but it was inconceivable that they could run it amicably. It was tough enough with one person in charge. Ken was furious when he’d found out Mitch was agisting cattle to help defray the overheads. She was sure that Ken would have pushed hard for Ivy to sell. His heart wasn’t in farming. It wasn’t a matter of if but when Roseglen left Dunmore hands.
‘Do you really think she’s unwell?’ Ella asked, glancing sideways, her eyes darkening to navy.
‘At her age, any illness or a fall . . .’ Felicity sighed. ‘She bounced back from her quad bike accident, but she shouldn’t be living in that big house by herself. And she’s tired, honey. She misses Charlie every minute of every day. I wish . . .’ She petered out. She wished that she’d known a love like that. ‘The sum of the two halves was greater than their individual worth.’ It was one of Charlie’s favourite sayings.
‘So, then, are you thinking . . . you might move?’ Tension crept into the air. They needed to discuss this.
‘Yes, I am thinking about moving back here. Sean’s almost finished his course, and it’s not like he spends much time at home now. You’re in Cairns so I’d be closer to you anyway.’
‘Were you thinking this before Dad screwed up?’ The note of accusation hurt and Felicity flashed back.
‘No, Ella. Up until a week ago I had no intention of leaving a job I love, or selling our house, or moving back to Roseglen or dealing with any of the other disasters that I’m currently sorting through.’
‘Hey, I’m just asking.’
They sat for a minute in silence.
‘I’m sorry, El. I’m struggling just as much as you with all this change. And if I have one more hot flush, I’ll scream.’
‘No, I’m sorry, Mum. I know Dad’s been a dick and Misty was always on the prowl, but it never occurred to me that she and Dad would hook up. You do know that they’ve moved in together, right?’
‘Oh, yes. Olivia told me in the driveway as I was leaving this morning.’ Her stomach tightened at the memory of the latest confrontation. ‘It’s still my fault, apparently.’
‘That sucks. But Olivia always was just an air-kissing social networker.’
‘Yep. Thank God for true friends.’
‘How are Steph and Paula?’
‘They think a new job and a change of scenery is a fine thing. They’re all for a girls’ week on the road to pack and relocate me.’
Ella giggled. ‘I’ll come too.’
‘Nothing’s decided. I still need to talk to Mum. It’s her house. And I need to find work up here.’
‘But if you sell the house, you’ll be all right for a while?’
Felicity shook her head as the faded sign for the turning to Limestone Hill flashed up. ‘The mortgage hasn’t dropped at all in twelve months. I won’t even have a useful deposit for another house.’
‘Seriously?’ They stopped at the T-junction. Ella looked across. ‘That’s awful, Mum. I always thought we were doing well with both of you working still.’
‘So did I.’
‘Shit.’ Ella turned right.
‘I’m young enough to get ahead again.’ She wasn’t feeling young, but surely in fifteen years she could put aside enough for later?
‘I wish . . .’ Ella tried, then stopped.
‘Wishes are for fishes, your Granny always says.’
‘And I never did get that. She’s full of silly sayings.’ They shared a smile and went back to watching the countryside slide by. Not far to go now.
The sparse grass in the paddocks wore the silvery coat of an early frost. Most of the locals would struggle to remember the last time there’d been anything but cobwebs in their dusty rain gauges. Only a few properties had falls from isolated thunderstorms this wet season, such was the luck of the country. The land looked empty without cattle. Kilometres of wire hung defeated from fence posts that were cracking and warping in the heat. Even the mobs of roos were smaller as the feed grew harder and harder to find.
Ahead, a telltale smudge of dust hung in the air. Ella slowed as they came out of a long bend. Two men on horseback were moving scrawny cattle across the road.
Ella grunted. ‘God, look at the state of those cows.’
‘Not much meat on them, but there’ll be more feed on the travelling stock routes than these paddocks.’
‘The old bloke should be sitting on his verandah watching his great grandkids running around. And his saddle’s seen better days.’
‘Yeah, and the young one should still be at school.’
They watched in silence as the couple of hundred drought-masters ambled across. Bringing up the rear were two lean kelpies, tongues lolling. Four years of an El Niño weather pattern had sucked the life out of western Queensland and its small towns. The fly-in-fly-out miners of the boom had all flown the coop. Even Limestone Hill, the closest town to Roseglen, had shop windows festooned with ‘For Lease’ or ‘For Sale’ signs.
If only Charlie had been willing to use the freshwater lakes running through the stalactites and stalagmites of the caves under their land, the way the Trethowans had, Roseglen would have been in better shape. Arran Downs must be a dust bowl by now. God knows why Ken hadn’t destocked completely as well.
The last of the herd passed through the gate and the young fella lifted two fingers to the brim of his hat. As she raised a hand, Felicity wished she had a cold drink to give them.
Ella drove on. Weathered advertising signs flashed by. ‘Last fuel until Coen’ one proclaimed, as it had for the past forty years. ‘Only five minutes to Ma’s Country Kitchen’ spruiked the next one.
; ‘Pull up at the roadhouse and I’ll fill the car,’ Felicity said.
Ripper, the yard dog, with ears twitching to keep the flies at bay, sprawled in front of the freshly painted stand holding LPG gas bottles. The new central bank of pumps, high enough to take B-double road trains, dwarfed the car.
‘If you don’t mind filling, I’ll go up and pay,’ Felicity said.
‘Righto. Can I have a red slurpie?’
‘You’ll rot your teeth out.’ It was a familiar refusal.
Ella bared her even, white teeth at her mother and laughed. ‘Hasn’t happened in twenty-six years. Just joking. Slurpies are too sweet for me these days.’
Felicity was still smiling as the sliding doors swished closed behind her. She missed the old bead curtain and the kaleidoscope of colours it cast on the lino. As a child, she’d had to be dragged away from counting the clicking glass droplets of magic.
‘Hi Joan, how you’re doing?’ she said to the rounded woman behind the counter wearing her uniform of floral dress and apron that proclaimed ‘My Kitchen Rules’.
‘Lissie!’ The other woman’s smile was replaced with a frown. ‘Ivy okay?’
Felicity nodded. ‘I hope so. She sounded all right last night.’
‘That’s a relief. Ken said she’s getting forgetful. She rang here the other day wanting to check on a credit card transaction. She didn’t remember filling up. I checked the security tape. It was her, all right, with Ken. Apparently she rang the Feed Shed to ask them about a sale as well.’
‘Really? She never mentioned it to me.’ Was Ivy’s keen mind starting to slip? If so, it was sudden. ‘She was in her car? I didn’t think she was driving much these days.’ That was cause enough for concern.
‘No, no. In Ken’s car, but he was with her. She’s paid for his fuel before, though, so that might be the explanation.’
‘Has she?’
‘She’s so independent. Told me she likes to pay her way.’ Joan rolled her eyes. ‘So what’s Ken going to do now?’
Felicity wasn’t entirely surprised at the direction of the conversation. Her brother generated more speculation than the rest of the family combined. ‘Not sure.’
‘Now he’s not in parliament, we wondered if he’d take over running Roseglen?’
Felicity kept her smile polite. ‘No plans for that. Mum’s doing okay still and until the drought breaks there’s nothing to do but hang on.’
‘Good to know. Edna said she’d heard Mitch Trethowan made him an offer and Ken turned him down, wanted more money. I told her she had the wrong end of the stick, that Ivy owned Roseglen, not Ken.’ Joan took Felicity’s credit card, her gaze sliding down to the eftpos machine. ‘That’s forty-eight dollars twenty-seven, Lissie.’
Felicity was incredulous, but she kept smiling. ‘The only property Ken can sell is Arran Downs. Maybe that’s what Edna meant. Roseglen is Mum’s.’
‘We did wonder if he’d be in on that development Mitch’s got on the go, but the word is they went toe-to-toe in the pub the other night. Figured he’d missed out on it.’
‘Mitch is doing a development? Where?’
‘Dunno. Tourism stuff, probably. Something to do with the mob from Yarrandunna Station. Mitch’s employed a few of them so that’s a good thing for the Aboriginal community. The drought’s hit them hard, too.’
‘Of course. It’s tough enough in the good times. But Ivy’s not mentioned anything about a development.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t know.’ Joan leaned on the counter. ‘How long are you staying?’
‘Just a couple of days.’ Felicity found a smile and changed the subject. ‘How’s your crew?’
‘Did you see my new grandson last time? He’s a little darlin’. Being a grandparent is way easier than being a parent. You don’t know what you’re doing first time around. Your Todd must have the patience of a saint, the amount of time you spend up here.’
Felicity kept her smile in place. Joan didn’t know all the gossip then. ‘Todd understands what’s important.’
‘Make sure Ivy calls if she needs anything,’ Joan continued. ‘Glad she’s still on the CWA committee. Gets her out and about, although we miss her as president. No one got out of line when she was in charge.’
‘No one was that silly,’ Felicity retorted with a laugh. Ivy had ruled the Country Women’s Association in Limestone Hill for decades.
She frowned as she walked back to the car. Maybe the credit card thing was a simple misunderstanding.
‘Good to go?’ she asked Ella who was sauntering back from the bathroom. ‘What do you think of the new facilities?’
‘A whole lot better than they used to be,’ she said with a grin. ‘They even have a speedy hand dryer. Limestone Hill has entered the twenty-first century!’
Felicity laughed as she closed the door and waited for Ella to start the engine.
A four-wheel drive hazed in dirt pulled in and the driver’s side window wound down as it drew level. Mitch Trethowan’s smile reached all the way to his eyes. That blue hadn’t faded. Ella lowered her window.
‘Ladies, good to see you. I heard you were both heading home.’
‘Hi, Mitch,’ they chorused. Felicity leaned across. ‘Just a quick visit.’
That stubborn jaw of his jutted a little. ‘She’ll like that. Yell if you need anything.’ Another car came in behind him and he nodded before waving an apology. ‘Catch you ’round,’ he said, the creases around his eyes deepening.
Oh, I wish you had, thought Felicity as they turned out onto the road. As kids they’d made their own fun, riding, swimming and exploring the underground caves, convinced they starred in their own version of Swallows and Amazons. As teenagers they’d drifted apart, with Felicity at boarding school and Mitch schooled locally. One long hot summer, when she was seventeen, he’d taught her to kiss and briefly she’d dared to dream. Then reality smacked her down. Ultimately they’d chosen different paths – or, in her case, chosen poorly under the influence of alcohol while nursing a bruised pride. But every time she saw Mitch she had a niggling sense that she’d missed out on something wonderful.
‘You know that was about the best time of my life, mustering for Mitch.’ Ella broke into her thoughts. ‘Flying an aeroplane, sleeping in a swag, doing an honest job.’
Felicity turned, surprised. ‘Better than being a first officer in an airline?’
‘Different,’ Ella said. ‘You’re the boss when you’re mustering, making your own decisions about the aircraft. Right now, I pretty much have to do what the captain says. Some are better than others.’
‘Is it not what you want?’ Felicity felt sick. After all the sacrifices she’d made and extra hours she’d worked to pay for the lessons, she hoped Ella wasn’t about to chuck it in.
‘No, I love flying, but I just thought it would be different somehow. Maybe I can understand why Aunty G left and started flying aid missions.’
‘Right. Well, you’re young and you have options. See how this goes for a while. You can always change.’
‘Yeah, I know. Mitch is a cool boss. He’s always playing dumb practical jokes. The ringers think he’s awesome.’
‘Nothing’s changed, then.’ Felicity felt a pang of nostalgia. She’d been a willing accomplice on the daily trips to and from primary school with Mitch. Toads in letterboxes were just the tip of the iceberg.
Ten minutes later they turned in at the forty-four-gallon drum that Charlie had shaped to resemble a cow sitting on a stump. Bare paddocks flanked the driveway and the homestead sprawled across the rise, the high peak of its roof giving a nod to the Scottish roots of the first generation of Dunmores, and the unlikely need to shed snow. The bullnose verandah roof cast a long shadow over the deep sash windows, French doors and wide boards as it wrapped around the house.
‘This place needs a paint,’ Ella remarked as they got closer.
‘It does.’ Bare timber showed through the brown trim on the handrails and the wrought iron had streaks of rust th
rough the white, but the elegant lines remained. Felicity was reminded of summer holidays filled with the heady scent of climbing roses that curled around the balustrades.
A fungus had overrun the ones in the front garden the year after Charlie died. The stumpy azaleas Ivy had planted coped better with the heat, but the flowers lacked the scent and grace of their predecessors.
Ella stopped the car under the awning around the side. The dogs emerged from their kennel, bounding over to greet them.
‘Hey Wex, hey Lady.’ A haze of silver glistened in muzzles and foreheads.
‘You two looking after Ivy?’ Felicity asked as she scratched their necks. She stood, feeling the pull in her knees. Nursing hadn’t been kind to her joints. Her weight wasn’t helping, either. But counting calories was something Todd had thought she should do. And eating what she liked made for surprisingly cheerful mealtimes.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed Ella’s Esky, loaded with fresh milk, butter and eggs, then headed up the back ramp onto the verandah. Ella trailed behind, playing with the dogs.
The homestead had stood for over 120 years, growing like topsy as new babies arrived. By the time Ivy and Charlie called it home there were five bedrooms, a large bathroom with a huge cast-iron bath, a drawing room, dining room, kitchen, and office all wrapped up safely in shady verandahs. A wide hallway ran up the centre of the home. Felicity remembered Georgina cheering the year she came home to find the kitchen had been extended and modernised, and the drawing and dining rooms had been combined into one spacious light-filled room at the front of the house. Felicity was almost as excited when her parents added a shower to the bathroom and then converted the back bedroom to an en suite attached to their room.
Felicity trailed her hand up the thick railing of the ramp. It had been Charlie’s idea and Felicity was always grateful he’d finished it before he died. The land sloped down to the house here so it didn’t look out of place as it joined the path to the carport where Ivy’s blue car gathered dust. Her mother could still make her way to the washing line which was vital as Ivy insisted air-drying was the only appropriate way to deal with laundry. Ivy looked regal today, standing behind her wheeled walker. Her snowy white hair was brushed back from her face and her neat blue dress matched her eyes. ‘Summer sky eyes’, Charlie used to call them, delighted that both his daughters and Ella had inherited them.