‘Old man wanted to let Alice know straight away. We’ve hooked it up for now, but it needs attention pretty soon.’ He patted the mobile clipped to his shirt pocket. ‘There’s no signal out there anyway. I was going to leave a note but that dog of yours wasn’t keen for me to move far from my vehicle.’
Coop couldn’t help the small smile that twitched at his lips. Jilly, his blue heeler, didn’t like Skitch much either.
‘Anyway, I had to come into town so thought I’d keep my eye out.’
Coop continued to stare at Skitch.
‘Just doing as I was asked. The old man said to give us a call if you need help fixing the fence.’ This last sentence came out in a rush and Skitch’s face turned red. ‘We’ve been Alice’s friends for a long time,’ he muttered, putting his four-wheel drive into gear.
Coop was once again reminded that he was the newcomer. Skitch’s dad, Barry, had always helped Alice in the past, and Coop got the strong impression old man Barnes still didn’t trust him.
‘I’ll get on to it,’ he said. ‘Tell your dad thanks.’
He nodded to Skitch and turned his ute out along the highway towards Alice’s farm. You have to be in a place a long time to win the trust of some locals, he reflected, knowing he wasn’t going to be here long enough for the Barnes family to get to know him that well. Coop never wanted to stay in one place much. He took up work where he could get it, and moved on when the job was done or when he felt the urge to try something else.
It was nearly dark by the time he got back to the property. Rusty, Alice’s old brown kelpie, hobbled from the side of the house and stopped by the gate. Coop’s blue heeler bounded from underneath a nearby tree and followed him to the sheds.
‘Hello Jilly.’ Coop scratched her head and threw an old tennis ball that she’d dropped at his feet. He unloaded the fencing gear, throwing the ball between each armful. Always comfortable with his own company, his dog was the only close friend he needed.
Coop had worked for Alice for over a year now, and he was beginning to get restless. But he couldn’t leave just yet. In the last month he’d noticed her strength and stamina waning, and when she finally told him about the cancer – and the need to get treatment in Adelaide – he’d promised to look after the place. Even now he shook his head at his own stupidity. He didn’t like having someone depend on him. Still, it shouldn’t be too long. Once Alice had regained her strength he’d be off to the next place.
Besides, he’d grown to like the woman they called a ‘tough old biddy’ in town. He was happy to help her out. She was a kindred spirit, a loner like him, and he knew it had been difficult for her to ask for his help. Alice didn’t like to rely on anyone any more than he did.
The chooks were already nestled in their boxes when he shut the rickety wire gate on them. He scratched his dog’s ears while he cast an eye over the enclosure. Alice had lost two of her laying hens to a fox a couple of weeks back. She’d been late home and the fox had been quick. Her old dog wouldn’t have heard a thing and Jilly had been with Coop, delivering a load of hay.
The hens were part of Alice’s domain; Coop hadn’t been near their enclosure for months. Now, even though the light was all but gone from the sky, he could see that the structure would barely keep the chooks in, let alone a cunning fox out. It was a wonder she hadn’t lost the lot.
‘We might have to do some work on this henhouse after we’ve fixed the paddock fence, hey Jilly?’
Coop thought about the sheep and the broken fence, but it was too late to go out there now. They were a mob of ewes about to lamb: Alice’s pride and joy. She had driven around them only yesterday, so the fence damage must be new, probably from a kangaroo. With any luck, they’d stay put till the morning and he’d get out there first thing.
He turned and walked back towards the house. Alice’s old dog was still sitting in the open gateway. Jilly stopped several paces away and dropped down to wait. She had always deferred to the older dog’s ownership of the house yard. As he looked from her to Rusty he noticed fresh tyre tracks in the dust. He followed them to the garage. They stopped by the path that led through Alice’s sparse garden to the house. Skitch must have driven right in.
Coop crunched along the gravel path, thinking back over the brief conversation he’d had with Skitch. Something was niggling at him, something that didn’t sit right, but whatever it was, it eluded him. He stepped up onto the verandah and reached the back door. His hand hovered over the handle. He’d never been inside the house without Alice being there. Rusty sat patiently beside him and let out a long, low whine.
Coop patted the dog on the head. ‘I guess none of us will get fed if we wait out here, will we, Rusty?’
The door was never locked. Inside, he took off his hat and hung it next to Alice’s. Hers was a broad-brimmed straw variety with a collection of feathers tucked into the band. He smiled at the recent addition of a large brown feather jutting out at an odd angle. The hat was the shape of a cattleman’s and always looked out of proportion on top of Alice’s slight frame.
A quick inspection of the fridge located the container of food that Alice had left for him and some bones for the dogs. He scraped some stew onto a plate. There was enough to feed him for a few days.
While the food turned in the microwave, he went back out to feed the dogs and clean up in the washroom by the back door. He splashed water on his face and rubbed it vigorously with a towel. Alice always expected him to use the bathroom here at the house. The old toilet in the quarters still worked but the shower house had collapsed long before he’d arrived. Shearers no longer needed overnight accommodation on the property, so it had never been fixed.
Back in the kitchen he tested the stew and set it going for a few more minutes. He was comfortable in this room – it was where he ate most of his meals with Alice. He’d never been in the spare bedroom at the end of the kitchen, however. He flicked on the light and cast his eyes quickly over the sparse furnishings. Along one wall was a single bed with an old, green candlewick bedspread; he hadn’t seen one of those covers for years. Beside the bed was a small chest of drawers with a lamp and against the opposite wall was a small wardrobe. This was where Alice expected him to sleep.
The microwave beeped to a stop. Coop turned without looking through the partly open door to the front of the house. That was Alice’s personal space. He knew there was a living room through there – he saw glimpses of it sometimes when she left the door open. Her bedroom was through there as well, but Coop wasn’t planning on going past the kitchen.
He ate his meal in silence. Alice always had the two-way radio on, along with her old radio or sometimes, in the evenings, the small TV on top of the fridge. Coop didn’t mind the quiet. Trouble was, when he stopped chewing he could hear a clock ticking. Alice must have a large clock in the loungeroom for it to be that loud.
He’d never noticed it before, perhaps because when Alice was around there was never silence.
He got up and tugged the door shut. The mat on the other side made a tight fit between the door and the floor, muffling the ticking sound. He picked at the remains of his meal, thinking about Alice. Hopefully she’d make a quick recovery. He sent up a silent prayer for her.
The knife and fork clattered onto the plate. He was getting too attached. Alice’s vulnerability was making him feel he owed her something, something more than the time he’d already put in. But he was here to do a job, that was all. He rinsed the dishes and put the casserole back in the fridge. Jilly barked in the distance – a couple of short, sharp yaps to remind him it was time to return to the quarters for the night.
He glanced at the light shining from the bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep in that bed. Then he pictured Alice’s shrewd look as she boarded the bus. He couldn’t go back on his word. He stood a moment before an idea occurred to him, and he headed out to the quarters.
Rusty had settled in his bed for the night, but Jilly was pleased to see Coop heading her way. The room in
the quarters was rough but comfortable and he’d been at ease there. His swag had been stowed away and hardly used since he’d started working for Alice. He pulled it out from under the bed and turned back towards the house. Jilly danced around him getting in front of his feet.
‘On your bed, Jilly,’ he ordered.
She stopped and hung her head.
‘You’re on your own tonight, girl, until I can work something out.’
She glanced up at him with a pleading look.
‘On your bed.’ His voice wasn’t so gruff this time, but she complied.
He felt her eyes following him in the darkness as he walked back to the house. Once inside, he rolled his swag out on the bedroom floor. He went around turning off lights but when he got to the switch for the verandah light he hesitated, then he dropped his hand, deciding to leave it on. Its soft glow illuminated the bedroom as he climbed into his swag.
Just as his eyelids drooped shut he remembered what it was Skitch had said, what it was that didn’t sit right. Something about wanting to leave a note but Jilly keeping him close to his four-wheel drive. That was odd, because the tyre tracks led into the house yard, and in all the time Coop had been here, Jilly had never crossed that boundary. Not even when Alice had tried to entice her with scraps. Still, Jilly was a smart dog. She probably understood that Alice was gone for a while. Maybe it had caused a shift in dog politics.
He flicked his eyes open and took in the glow from the outside light.
‘Get well soon, Alice, and don’t be gone long,’ he mumbled.
Chapter 4
The television was playing softly and Angela could hear the sound of dishes being washed in the sink as she entered her flat.
‘Damn,’ she muttered. She didn’t like the thought of Janice doing her housework. Around her were neat piles of folded clothes, and the loungeroom floor was clear of toys. She stepped silently into the kitchen.
‘Thanks Janice. You can leave those.’
The smartly dressed woman at the sink spun around. ‘Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.’ Her hair shone and her skin glowed. There was only thirteen years difference between them, and in the face of her stepmother’s practised radiance, Angela felt as if she was the older woman. She looked around her little kitchen. The benchtops were clear, the dishes nearly finished – even the floor sparkled.
‘You didn’t have to do all this.’
‘Claudia’s been asleep for ages. She was very tired, dear little thing. She’s such an easy child to look after.’
Angela drew in a breath through her nose and exhaled slowly, pulling her lips into a smile. ‘She has her moments, but it’s getting easier.’
‘We’ve had a lovely afternoon. I took her to see a movie and afterwards we walked in the park. She loves nail polish so she’s got a few different colours on.’ Janice chuckled and waved her own manicured hand at Angela. ‘We ate at my house then I brought her here. She’s such a mature little girl. She helped me tidy up the loungeroom then asked to have her bath. She found her own pyjamas and was nearly asleep when her head hit the pillow.’
Once again, Angela drew in a breath. Janice wouldn’t have a clue what it took to look after a child. She was no help at all when Claudia was a baby. Nigel was away a lot then, doing musicals and shows, and some days Angela hadn’t made it out of her dressing gown. There’d been a couple of times when she’d almost drowned in sorrow, or so it had felt, crying for her own mother, longing for maternal support and advice. If it wasn’t for her father and Kate, Angela didn’t know how she would have survived the world of feeding, bathing and endless washing, all on little sleep, pacing the house with a crying Claudia.
‘We’re usually fairly organised,’ she offered. ‘This week has been busy with Dad needing help, and with the wedding preparations …’
‘You must be worn out. I’ve got a meal for you in the microwave.’
Angela watched in stunned silence as Janice’s painted nails pushed the buttons to set the microwave in motion.
‘You sit down, I’ll bring it to you. Then I really must get going. I’ve had such a busy day. Claudia is a delight, of course, but it’s quite exhausting looking after her, isn’t it?’
Angela took some satisfaction in this confession, but didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she slipped into one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table.
‘How are the wedding plans going, anyway?’ Janice asked, pulling the TV dinner from the microwave. Angela recognised it as one of the emergency supplies from her freezer. She should have known Janice wouldn’t have actually cooked.
‘Is your dress ready?’
‘The dress!’ Angela clapped a hand to her forehead.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’ve got Dad’s car. The dress is in mine.’ Normally she took the tram to work but today she’d taken her car specifically so she could collect the dress. Which was now at the truck depot. The dressmaker had given strict instructions to hang it up so that any creases would drop out by Saturday.
‘Oh Angela, you really do need to be more organised.’
Angela stood up. She was dangerously close to losing the control she’d learned to maintain around Janice. ‘I’ll have to ring Dad,’ she said, searching around for the cordless handset.
‘Don’t worry him now,’ Janice said. ‘We can work something out. He’s so tired.’
Angela bit back her urge to scream about how exhausted she felt. No matter how diplomatic she was, Janice always found a way to push her buttons.
She spied the phone, amazingly right where it should be, on the shelf dividing the kitchen from the lounge. As she reached for it, a stack of papers beside it caught her eye and forced her to pause. On top were her credit card statements, open and clearly visible. She couldn’t remember where she’d left them, but it certainly wasn’t in a neat pile like this. She clicked her tongue, hoping Janice hadn’t looked them over.
‘You’re dropping Claudia with us tomorrow night, aren’t you?’ Janice asked behind her. ‘I’ll hang out your dress and you can collect it then.’
Angela turned back to Janice, putting her body between her stepmother and the paper pile. ‘I guess that would work. The wedding rehearsal’s at eight.’
‘That’s late.’
‘Two of the groomsmen are flying in from Perth.’
‘Perhaps one of them will be the man of your dreams and whisk you away to Perth.’ Janice’s chuckle tinkled across the room.
‘I don’t think so.’ Angela recalled Carmela’s warning about Tony’s cousin.
‘You should eat this before it gets cold.’ Janice wiggled her fingers at the meal.
Reluctantly, Angela sat back at the table. Something wasn’t right. Janice was being far too nice.
‘Don’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles.’
That was rich coming from Janice, the queen of dirty looks.
‘Did your father speak to you about the job in South Australia?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you going to do it?’ Janice’s voice seemed eager.
‘I haven’t had time to think about it.’
‘It would help him a lot. It’s a great opportunity for the business, but with a driver short, you can imagine how difficult that is for him.’
Angela recalled her father’s weary face. Janice was right, he really was tired. ‘Dad’s okay, isn’t he?’
‘Of course. He’s just working hard, poor love.’ Janice turned her penetrating gaze to Angela. ‘You should seriously consider driving for him. I’m sure he would make it worth your while. It would be a wonderful opportunity to put the past behind you and start afresh.’
Angela stuffed a forkful of vegetables in her mouth. This was sounding a lot like the conversation she’d just had with her father.
‘I hear there are plenty of single men in rural South Australia.’
Angela dropped the fork and stood up. ‘Thanks for looking after Claudia,’ she said, perhaps a little too abruptly. ‘It’s been a
long day and I have to be at work early tomorrow.’
Janice stood and collected her bag. Only the counter was between them now, and the glare from the downlights lit up the pile of papers like a spotlight. She tapped her blood red fingernails on the stack of bills.
‘Your father has already paid off a large credit card debt for you, Angela, and now I see you’ve got two cards.’
Angela snatched up the papers. ‘You’ve no right to go through my things.’
‘They were just lying around, I didn’t go looking for them. I had to clear a space for Claudia to sit. She was so keen to show me your lovely new television.’
Angela clutched the bills to her chest and glanced at the large flatscreen she’d ordered on an interest-free deal. Damn Janice and her sudden offer to babysit. She hardly ever came to the flat and now she was poking her nose into Angela’s financial affairs.
Janice softened her gaze and leaned closer. ‘I know you don’t think of me as your mother, Angela. I’ve never tried to take her place, but I am your father’s wife and we care about you. This job could mean a new life for you.’
‘I’m managing.’
‘There’s a difference between managing and living a full life.’
Angela put the bills down beside the congealing TV dinner. She longed to get in the shower and wash away the weight of the day.
‘Nigel’s not coming back to you, you know. And you’ve got debts up to your eyeballs again. This isn’t living.’
Angela felt the sag in her body. ‘I wasn’t expecting Nigel to come back, and I only need the extra card to get Claudia’s fees paid. I’ll pay it off again soon.’ She hoped she sounded convincing.
‘Don’t you see what a great opportunity this is?’ Janice’s voice was soft and coaxing as she stepped around the bench, closer to Angela. ‘Driving trucks pays better than what you’re earning now. You can get away from Melbourne, make a new start and not have to run into Nigel.’
For a few seconds Angela was mesmerised by the offer.
Queen of the Road Page 3