Silver Clouds

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Silver Clouds Page 12

by Fleur McDonald


  ‘Some of the newspapers have been used for cupboard liners, just laid on top of one another. I’m sure she couldn’t have kept all these papers just for that, but I’m loathe to throw any of them out until I’ve had a really good look at them. According to Elsie, I’m looking for a huge family secret, so I don’t want to throw them out if there’s some chance it’s in there!’

  Paul smiled wryly then took a sip of his drink. ‘I don’t think it will be life-changing, Tessa. Maybe someone married a man the family didn’t approve of or ran away, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.’

  ‘I know,’ Tessa agreed. ‘Our family is very boring! Well, this generation is. Aunty Spider wasn’t, though. She always had a part of her that was shut away and she wouldn’t let anyone in.’

  ‘Yeah, she did, didn’t she? Had a bit of a mysterious air about her. And it wasn’t even that, was it? More like part of her life she just never wanted to share. She loved us to the end of the world and back, was a wonderful support and steadying influence in our lives, but I always felt there was a small part of her life that she didn’t want to share. I really always thought it was William and losing him so young that made her put a wall around herself and she was never going to let anyone get through it.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s exactly how I felt. I miss her.’

  ‘I do too.’

  They sat companionably for a while then Paul stretched. ‘Well, I’d best be off. Your mother will be wondering where I am.’

  ‘Oh, before I forget. I’ve got a pile of bed linen for Marni – would you take it back to her? I don’t reckon I need fifteen sets of sheets here.’

  ‘No probably not.’

  Tessa went to get them. ‘How’s Mum?’ she asked when she returned with an armful of thick cotton sheets. ‘Did she help shift the sheep today?’

  ‘Yep. She’s fine.’ Paul opened the door into the ute and Tessa piled the linen onto the front seat.

  ‘Just going back to Spider for a moment, Dad. One thing I’ve noticed as I’ve been looking through the photos is that there’s such an age difference between her and your dad – Grandpa. I started to draw up a family tree. Her oldest sister was Grace – she was born in 1912; then Len – who started out here on the Nullarbor – in 1914; George, 1915; Edward, who was born in 1920; and Spider in 1921. Then there’s this baby who appears years later. Like in 1931. That’s your dad, Tom. Such a gap. Quite curious, really.’

  ‘Not that odd. Don’t forget the war was in the middle of that. It was a bit hard to have babies when the men were fighting on overseas. Also, back then more babies died. There wasn’t the same level of medical intervention as there is now. A miscarriage is another thought. And there’s always the good old mistake.’

  ‘Good point, I hadn’t thought of that. So your grandfather fought in the Great War then?’

  ‘He did. He was on the Western Front but was injured and sent home in 1917, I think. It took him a long time to recover – I can’t remember what was wrong with him. Must have taken a bullet somewhere, or some shrapnel, I guess. Grandma and Mum helped nurse him in Adelaide. That’s where we were originally from. South Australia.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know that.’ Tessa was intrigued. ‘I guess I don’t really know much about your grandparents. I know more about Spider and Grandpa’s life out here than anything.’

  ‘They all helped here. It’s because of them Danjar Plains is what it is. Old Len was a bit of a drifter – he never seemed to stick at much, from what I can remember, but the others, they were salt of the earth, hard-working and dependable men. They all died close together, but I’m not sure how. Spider never talked about it, so I didn’t pry.’

  Tessa looked to the sky. ‘I wonder what stories the land would tell us if it could speak.’

  ‘Many we wouldn’t want to hear, I’m sure,’ he answered. ‘Night, Tessa, sleep well.’ He leaned over and kissed her cheek and she put her arms around him in a brief hug.

  ‘Night, Dad. Thanks for the visit.’

  From the verandah she listened as the sound of the ute grew distant, until she could hear nothing but silence. Feeling restless, she picked up the pot that sat in the centre of the table and tossed it from hand to hand.

  Something moved inside and clunked against the side of the pot. Tessa stopped and shook it. This time, Tessa could feel something hitting the inside walls.

  She upended it onto the table. A shower of dirt fell out and through the cracks in the table. She peered inside the pot and saw a small box covered in dust. At first she tried to fish it out, but the bottom was too deep for her fingers to reach and she didn’t want to be bitten by a red-back spider, so she tapped it gently on the table.

  A dirt-encrusted jewellery box clunked softly onto the iron. Tessa stared at it, not sure what to think. Her thoughts flew back to the letter she had from Spider.

  Mystery . . . skeletons, she’d written.

  Finally Tessa opened the filthy box. Nestled on fawn-coloured silken bedding were two gold wedding rings, looking as new as could be. Tessa stared at them, trying to remember if Spider had ever worn a wedding ring. She had. But it was thick and old. Scratched and dull. These rings were shiny. There didn’t seem to be a blemish on either of them.

  Taking one, she went over to the light to see it better. There was writing on the inside, but it was hard to read. Tessa raced inside to grab a torch.

  ‘Forever mine, forever yours.’

  She checked the second one. The same.

  How strange! And why hide them in the pot? Tessa kept the rings in her hand, inspecting them, thinking. She went into her bedroom to find the final letter from Aunty Spider. As she opened it, she felt a tingling sensation.

  ‘Our family has a few skeletons and secrets!’

  Huh, won’t make it easy for me? Well, Spider, I’ve just had two rings literally fall into my hands. It can’t be that hard from here on in, she thought. But where to start? The obvious thing would be to work out who the rings were intended for.

  Back to the photos.

  Pouring another glass of lemonade, she went into the lounge. From their spot on the bookshelves she pulled out four photo albums and started to flick through.

  In Spider’s familiar handwriting there were labels against them all. One showed a young family of three standing in front of a horse and carriage. ‘Grace, Len, George. Adelaide 1911.’ Tessa looked more closely and realised the family were standing in a wide open street.

  ‘Grace, Len, George, Edward. Mummy and Daddy’, said the next one. Tessa looked at the tall imposing man who was her great-grandfather. He wore a bowler hat and a belted overcoat, while the children wore dark clothes, with collars high to the neck. It looked like Great-Grandma was pregnant again. Tessa checked the date on the photo and worked out that the baby would be Spider. Why were they always so serious in photos back then, she wondered as she studied each unsmiling face.

  Turning page after page, she saw the children grow until Grace wasn’t in one photo and neither was Len.

  The dog whined and Tessa realised she’d been lost in the past for too long. If she was going to head over to Harrison’s tomorrow to look after Cally, she needed to pack and get ready.

  After a quick tea of eggs on toast, she packed her bag and set it at the front door.

  Then she went back to the rings. Carefully she pulled out the lining of the box, looking for some sign of ownership, but there wasn’t even the name of a jeweller.

  In the laundry she found a cardboard box, in which she neatly stacked three photo albums from the shelves. Tessa hadn’t touched the writing desk yet – she hadn’t felt strong enough to go there – but if she had something to look for it might help. Were there diaries, letters, anything?

  She pulled out the drawers and had a quick look through. The first one looked like it held nothing but bills; the second, recipes. The long one across the top contained writing pads, envelopes and stamps, plus letters that needed answering.

  Other than that,
nothing useful.

  She didn’t really want to spend much time in Spider’s bedroom yet, so she hurried in, yanked open the top drawer in the bedside table and rifled through. There was nothing there either, so she made a quick escape.

  She would just have to make do with the photo albums and see what she could come up with.

  A bit annoyed but very curious, Tessa stopped and looked around the lounge room. ‘Who were you keeping secrets for, Aunty Spider, and why were you the secret keeper?’ she whispered.

  Chapter 16

  The two-wheel track that led towards Danjar Plains’ boundary and on to Harrison’s was rough and full of potholes. Deep puddles lay across their path, but Ryan handled the ute with ease.

  It was the second week in February and Tessa’s babysitting job was about to start.

  Tessa was silent, watching, one moment sure she recognised places from childhood, then doubting herself. It all looked the same and she couldn’t be certain that the places she remembered were what she was actually staring at.

  ‘I want to head up to the northern part of the place,’ Ryan had said when he’d arrived to pick Tessa up. ‘Haven’t been up there for a week or so. Got a few waters and fences I can check on the way.’

  ‘I haven’t been up there for years!’

  ‘You haven’t been home for years,’ said Ryan simply, then changed the subject. ‘You can get to Harrison’s from the back of our place – do you remember? We butt up against his side boundary.’

  ‘I may not remember the names of paddocks and things of that sort, but I do know who our neighbours are,’ said Tessa. ‘Be a good way to see some of the countryside. Although,’ she conceded, ‘I’m having trouble working out where we are.’

  The ute hit a pothole and Tessa felt the box in her pocket containing the rings press into her thigh. Even with the hours she’d spent the previous evening poring over the pages of the photo albums, she was still no closer to finding out who the rings belonged to.

  She wondered whether she should tell Ryan about them, but there was really nothing to tell. It wasn’t in her nature to say something unless she could back it up or there was reasoning behind it. She’d learned that quickly in her job.

  As she opened the third gate, she looked about her. There was nothing but vivid blue sky and shrubby bushes, the land stretching on and on until it merged with the sky at the horizon. She’d first thought there weren’t any changes, but the soil colour had transformed from white to apricot and the trees were slightly smaller than the ones closer to the homestead. So isolated, so much space. It had taken a bit of getting used to after the busyness of London, but getting used to it she seemed to be. She could feel the land beginning to get under her skin and it was unlike any feeling she had ever experienced. She knew she was changing too. Waking in the mornings, Tessa didn’t crave the rush and adrenalin she had when she was working. She had slipped into the relaxed way of life quickly. There were times when she wondered if she might have never left Danjar Plains, but for Kendra’s accident. But she’d pushed it away. She knew what she was experiencing now was akin to a holiday and nothing else. The moment she hit the city, her blood would begin to buzz again.

  Tessa shook her head as she latched the wire around the fence post and made sure the gate was secured. She didn’t want to stay. She was here to do a job, and once Aunty Spider’s house was done and the mystery solved, she’d be moving back to the city. There were some jobs she wanted to research on the net and she planned to do that while she was at Harrison’s – hopefully his internet connection was better than the one on Danjar.

  Jumping back in the ute, she opened her mouth to ask Ryan about the stock stealing, but he spoke first.

  ‘Tessa, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while. Marni is acting like she is because we’re having trouble falling pregnant. You probably worked it out when she rushed off like she did the other night, but I wanted you to know that’s the reason.’

  The quiet inside the cab was broken only by the jarring rattle of the ute tray as they drove over rough ground.

  ‘Oh, Ryan,’ was all Tessa could think to say for a moment. ‘I did think something was up, when she reacted so badly after I talked about becoming an aunty.’

  ‘She’s been through a bit of a rough time. She miscarried three months ago and we’d been trying for over a year before that happened.’

  Sympathy for her sister-in-law hit Tessa hard. She didn’t understand the craving for a child but she had heard from friends it was the worst kind of yearning – enough to change personalities. Obviously it had done so with Marni, because the carefree, quick-with-a-smile-and-a-laugh young woman who had married her brother was now a closed-off, quiet, almost haunted woman. She was nothing like how Tessa remembered her. When she’d first arrived home, she’d wondered if the isolation had eaten away at Marni during the previous couple of years, but with Spider’s cryptic clues in her letter and Marni’s recent behaviour, clearly it wasn’t that at all.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ryan. It sounds like you’ve had a terrible time.’ She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried to work out what to say. ‘Um, so, what can you do? Have you been to the doctor? Don’t feel like you need to answer if you don’t want to,’ she stumbled.

  ‘Doctor Mike from the Flying Doctor thinks we should go to Kal for some tests, but he’s talking IVF.’

  Ryan sounded disgusted.

  ‘From what I know that’s a very good option.’

  ‘What do you know then?’ Ryan shot her a curious look.

  ‘Not very much, just what I’ve heard girls in the office say,’ Tessa admitted, watching Ryan’s shoulders slump slightly. ‘But, I do know it can take over your life, that the desire for a child can overshadow everyday life. It can become an obsession.’

  ‘That’s what it is! Exactly,’ Ryan burst out. ‘The thermometer lives in her pocket and if her temperature is slightly raised, she calls me on the radio. “It’s time to come home, honey,” she says. On the bloody radio! She monitors everything she eats and getting pregnant is all she talks about. We used to laugh and chat; she’d come out in the ute and we’d have fun. Now she’s constantly anxious.’ Frustrated, he ran his fingers over his head. ‘Anyway, I just wanted you to know, in case you thought you’d offended her or something. She’s just easily upset these days, so don’t take it personally.’

  Tessa felt her heart squeeze at the defeated look on his face.

  ‘It’s easy enough to get sheep and cattle pregnant,’ he continued. ‘We cull the ones who don’t, so our flocks are fertile. It’s not something I ever really thought about or imagined we’d have trouble with. She blames me – thinks I drink too much, don’t eat the right things, it’s too hot out here. Apparently high temperatures affect the sperm count, but it doesn’t seem to do that with the stock! It’s warmer out there in the paddock than what it is in my bedroom, I can tell you. She’s got me in these bloody boxer shorts to make sure things – circulate! I don’t know who has the problem but I can’t see the point in blaming each other. It’s just one of those things.’ He sighed. ‘I feel like a bloody failure.’

  ‘You can’t feel like that! Neither of you can! It’s just nature.’ Tessa was trying to sound wise. She hoped what she said was true.

  Ryan looked at her and missed seeing the pothole ahead. The ute jarred as it ploughed into the deep rut. Tessa hit her head on the window as the vehicle veered off into the bush. ‘Ow!’

  The scratching of the brush against the ute sounded like fingernails down a blackboard and she wanted to put her fingers in her ears.

  ‘Sorry, sis.’ Ryan gunned the accelerator and Tessa felt the back end of the ute swing to the side. She squealed and lunged for the handrail.

  Ryan let out a laugh. He turned the wheel and got the ute back onto the track. ‘Awesome!’

  ‘If you think so,’ Tessa said, rubbing her head. ‘Oh my ears. That’s a terrible noise!’

  ‘Ripping it up makes me think I’m a young blok
e again. It’s fun, and fun, dear sister, is like coffee in the morning. Essential!’

  Tessa laughed, then became serious. ‘So can I do anything to help?’

  ‘Nah, I don’t think so. Just somehow gotta get a bit of time away from here, get to Kal and then up to Perth, I guess. Bloody hell, would you look at that?’

  Tessa followed his line of sight. ‘What?’

  ‘The fence. It’s down.’

  She peered out, searching the bush. She couldn’t even see a fence, let alone one that was down.

  Ryan drove off the track and into the scrub, picking the path of least resistance. They bumped over clumps of grasses and avoided large sticks and piles of rocks.

  Then Tessa spotted it. ‘How the hell did you see that from the road?’ she wondered aloud. The fence seemed the same colour as the bush to her and was about twenty metres from the road.

  ‘I’m going to know where my fences are. I run the joint!’ Ryan killed the engine. ‘Can you grab me the pliers? They’re in the toolbox in the back.’

  They got out. Tessa retrieved the pliers then watched as Ryan inspected the fence.

  He pulled a couple of wires and tested the tension on the top one. ‘Look at this,’ he said. ‘The top two are fine. They haven’t been touched. But the lower ones have all been pulled away from the posts. It’s been done so you have a quick glance at the fence, see the top wires and think everything is okay. But if there are any stock grazing along here, which they do to get to the tank, they can go under the fence and into next door’s place.’

  ‘What are you saying? The neighbour has deliberately done this? Why?’ Tessa asked innocently.

  ‘Not a neighbour. I think it’s someone who has local knowledge, but I don’t think it’s a neighbour.’ He shook his head. ‘We haven’t got any proof who’s doing this. This is the whole reason I’ve been driving around at night. I’m trying to see if we can catch them at their own game. We’ve got theories about who it might be, but no firm proof. It started four years ago. Stock counts were down, and when the Hunters came to muster the cattle for calf marking the number of calves was right down. It took a while to work out someone was deliberately dropping fences and turning off bores, because it doesn’t happen often. Whoever is doing it isn’t doing it all the time.’

 

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