The girls appeared for dinner and Eliza said her goodbyes to them all, not understanding how people who had family could act like they didn’t care about them, when there were people like her around, who wanted nothing but a family.
Chapter 15
Eliza raced into the pub, puffing hard. The night was so clear but so cold; there was sure to be frost in the morning.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said as she pulled up a chair at the meeting. Glancing around, she realised she knew only a few people. Smiling tentatively, she tried to hide the rush of adrenalin that ran through her when she saw opposite her one of the faces from the magazine article.
‘Everybody, this is Eliza.’ Reen waved a hand in her direction. ‘She was the one who had the idea of the selfie trail.’
There was a general murmur of welcome. Reen went on to introduce everyone at the table.
‘I’m not going to remember everyone’s names,’ Eliza admitted. ‘Hope you don’t mind if I ask you again if I forget?’
‘You ask as many times as you need, dear,’ answered Mary Caulder. Her voice had a slight English accent and, like so many of the older people in the area Eliza had met, her expression indicated a sweet nature—she was just as Eliza had imagined.
‘How did you come up with the idea?’ asked a man whose name, she thought, was Mark Patterson. It was apparent he was a pastoralist, with his weather-beaten face and tanned skin.
Eliza shrugged. ‘I remember reading about something similar at a zoo, with kids. They had to follow a trail, taking photos of the animals, not themselves, with their iPads.
‘I thought we could make money by asking for a $100 entry fee plus a gold coin donation for every person in the car, at every stop. Sort of like a Rotary fine. Then, an adjudicator assesses the photos from all the places and decides who goes into the draw to win.’
As she talked, she stared into the fire, which was roaring close by. It had been her idea to do a hide and seek trail for the kids at Jindabyne.
‘Well, I reckon it’s a top idea,’ said Jacob, leaning forward and putting his hands on his knees. ‘You’re the only one here without a drink. Can I get you something?’
Eliza shook her head.
‘What does everyone think?’ asked Julie Nadier. ‘I wondered if it might be a bit too hard for some people?’ Eliza had met Julie before and hadn’t liked her very much. She was loud and gossipy, and Eliza tried to stay away from her as much as possible. This was a little difficult, though, as she was Reen’s next-door neighbour.
Will Jameson, the local shearing contractor, shook his head. ‘I think the genius of this idea is that it takes the tourists off the beaten track. Let’s get them to our stations, take them to the shearing sheds, or to the top of the highest peaks. Grey nomads talk to each other, and if people get to see some really different country and sights, they’ll be telling all their friends. We’ll get more people through the town and that’ll bring in more money.’ He scratched his grey beard and Eliza thought how much like Father Christmas he looked. Those mischievous blue eyes twinkled at her, making her smile back at him.
Everyone around the table—except Julie, who pursed her lips—nodded in agreement.
‘Okay, so let’s talk about where the route should go,’ Reen said, pulling the meeting back into order.
‘Hang on a minute. Are there any other ideas?’ Mary asked.
Everyone looked at each other.
There was general chitchat, then Jacob spoke up. ‘When we’ve got all this sorted, we should put Eliza in charge. It’s her baby and she’ll do a really good job of it.’
‘I’m happy to do the legwork,’ she agreed.
‘You’ll have to promote it too,’ Reen said. ‘You know, get the media on board and do some radio interviews, that sort of thing.’
Fear shot through Eliza’s stomach. ‘Um . . .’ she muttered.
Mark thumped the table. ‘Now, here’s an idea,’ he said, excitement in his voice. ‘Eliza is new to Blinman. She could follow the route we set up and post every day to the town’s Facebook page. We’ll all share the posts and it’ll get out there really quickly. I hear you’re an excellent photographer.’
‘No!’ The word shot from Eliza’s mouth before she could stop it.
Everyone turned to look at her, puzzled by her outburst.
She looked down at the table and tried to slow her heart rate, which had shot up of its own accord.
‘No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I’m not a front-of-the-camera type of girl.’ She paused as she tried to think of a convincing reason for this. ‘I get nervous, you know? I’d be much better off in the background, doing the legwork.’
‘How can you get nervous behind a camera and a computer?’ asked Julie in a condescending tone. ‘You’re not talking to anyone.’
Reen interrupted. ‘That’s fine, Eliza. It’s not a problem if you want to be behind the scenes. I do most of the media anyway.’ Still, Eliza saw Reen looking at her and she knew that her friend would be asking questions very soon. ‘Right, now, do we have anything else to discuss?’
‘Bra ping-pong,’ Jacob said with a wicked grin.
‘I’m sorry?’ Mary looked over at him, her eyes wide. ‘What are you up to this time, Jacob Maynard? I know that look.’
He grinned at Mary. ‘I think this’d be a fantastic extra activity for the camp cook-off. You get a wooden board and some old bras, and attach them to it. You have to make them stick out so you can hit a ball into them; basically, the aim of the game is to hit a ping-pong ball into a cup.’ He sat back and crossed his arms, looking very pleased with himself.
There was a moment’s silence before everyone around the table burst out laughing.
‘That sounds like a ripper,’ Will said. ‘Actually, I’d say more but I won’t while there’s ladies present.’
‘Good idea, young man,’ Mary said quickly, winking at Jacob. ‘I’m not sure my heart could take it, though.’
‘I reckon that’s brilliant!’ Reen leaned forward and pointed at Jacob. ‘You’re in charge of that.’
‘No problem at all,’ he answered. He shot a sideways glance at Eliza. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any black lacy bras you could lend me, do you?’
‘Want a cuppa before you head to bed?’ Reen asked as she limped towards her house.
Eliza, wanting to avoid her questions, yawned elaborately and said, ‘I don’t think so, thanks. I’m knackered from taking the kids to Kanyaka today.’
Reen stopped and turned around. ‘Did you enjoy the day?’
‘The kids were great and the ruins were unbelievable. I can’t get over how much work went into those buildings, and it would all have been done by hand. Just unreal.’ She stopped and looked up towards the hills. They were bathed in moonlight, the bush casting long shadows across the rocky ground. ‘And it’s amazing to think about the people who used to work in that mine.’ She shook her head before looking up at the sky.
‘It was certainly pretty tough back then,’ Reen agreed. ‘All right—well, get a good night’s sleep.’
Relieved, Eliza went to her room and sat on the bed, trying to work out her feelings. For so long, she’d just been thankful to be away from Dominic. But now, she realised, she was angry.
She was lying to her friends and she hated that.
Tonight, she’d felt she looked like a fool, having to react the way she did.
Eliza threw herself backward with a deep sigh, wanting to hit something. She grabbed a pillow and threw it across the room, before stamping her feet up and down on the bed.
Feeling a tear slip down her cheek, she knew she had to do something. She grabbed her iPod, camera and tripod, and headed out into the night.
The moon was bright enough for her to walk without a torch, and she made her way to the northern end of town before turning onto a dirt road.
From her earbuds pounded ‘Fight Song’ by Rachel Platten. It had become her theme song, as there was plenty of fight in Eliza yet, and
she wasn’t going to let Dominic beat her. But sometimes she needed to be reminded of that and this was one of those nights.
She would put ‘Fight Song’ on repeat, feeling the strength in the lyrics fill her being, knowing she would soon feel resilient enough to take on the world again. She reminded herself that the kowtowing, browbeaten Ashleigh was long gone, and she was Eliza now.
Eliza could stand on her own two feet. She was slowly healing, in this town whose people mostly showed only care and concern for her, a stranger who had just lobbed among them for no apparent reason.
She stopped at the edge of a creek and leaned against a gum tree. The eucalyptus scent surrounded her and the crisp, gentle breeze swept over her, lifting her hair as it passed by. As the song finished, she felt goosebumps ripple over her skin and her nipples harden.
Eliza smiled. Even on the days she thought she wasn’t coping, she was stronger than she’d been before and that was all that mattered. Pulling the earbuds out, she turned to face the wind.
Then she heard it. An engine. She turned and looked around her, trying to work out which direction it was coming from. Then she saw lights coming around the corner.
She moved into the scrub, before settling behind a prickly acacia bush. In the distance a fox barked. The goosebumps were back, but for a different reason. She was frightened this time.
Cars were uncommon here in the middle of the night.
The lights came closer, and Eliza could smell dust and hear gravel flicking up and catching under the car.
The moonlight reflected off the bonnet as it passed her hiding spot. It wasn’t a car she recognised, so whoever was driving it wasn’t from around here. She was familiar with most of the locals’ cars now.
This one looked different too. There was a small satellite dish on the roof, and the back of the roof and the bullbar were covered in aerials of all different shapes and sizes.
She squinted as dust blew over the top of her, but watched the car disappear further into the darkness.
Chapter 16
As Eliza had predicted, the next morning was frosty. On the tennis court fences, icicles followed the contours of the wire, and long spikes of ice hung from the leaves of the cypress pines in the main street.
Bundled up in a beanie and gloves, Eliza spent the first hour of the morning snapping the spectacle. It had been so cold, she hadn’t been able to have a shower, because the pipes, which ran along the outside of the units, were frozen. She would have to wait until she got back from Mary Caulder’s place. Chris had kept his word, and organised for Tilly to speak to Mary about her family history assignment.
She glanced at her watch, picked up her backpack and headed for the door. Then she suddenly stopped and turned back to the wardrobe. She grabbed the box she kept hidden inside, opened the lid and reached in. There was the article with the photo of the now-familiar Mary Caulder. Eliza was yet to meet John but she assumed she would today. She tucked the photo into her back pocket and headed over to the shop.
Chris would be dropping Tilly and Heidi off in about ten minutes.
‘It’s so good of Mary to do this for Tilly,’ Eliza said to Reen, trying to hide her excitement. She felt like her whole mission in coming here was about to be accomplished by this visit.
‘Mary will do anything for anyone around here,’ Reen answered as she chopped vegetables. ‘She is grandmother to the whole community. Tilly’s grandparents on Chris’s side are dead. I’ve only met Claire’s parents, Jane and Mark, once.’ She stopped and put her hands on her hips. ‘Now, they’re a strange family. They come and visit, but never want to get involved with things that are on or be a part of the community. Usually, when locals have family turn up, they’re happy to come in and have a meal at the pub, or fill in for the cricket team—that sort of thing. But Claire’s family never did, even when she lived here.’ She fixed Eliza with a stare. ‘And, after what you’ve told me about the way they left before helping Tilly with that assignment—well!’ she huffed. ‘I mean, they’re grey nomads! They don’t have to be anywhere at any given time. One more day wouldn’t have hurt.’
‘I know,’ Eliza said softly. She hadn’t been there when Chris had broken the news to Tilly, but she hoped it hadn’t bothered her too much. ‘I didn’t know both of Chris’s parents are dead.’
‘Yeah, they are.’
‘What happened?’
‘His mother, Fiona, had cancer and died when the boys were both quite young. Mary helped raise them. Well, not really raise them, but she was always on the other side of the fence if she was needed. You get what I mean? Dean did a great job as a single dad, but there were times when a woman’s touch was needed with the boys. Mary took over then.
‘It was funny—Chris and his mother never seemed to get along, and yet she and Jacob were inseparable. I think that’s caused some tension between the boys in the last few years.’
Eliza nodded, remembering what Chris had said about his brother and how harsh she’d thought it had sounded.
‘What happened to their dad?’
‘That was tragic. He was mustering on a horse—you know how rugged the country is around here. We think what happened is his horse tripped, or shied, something like that. Dean took a fall and, whatever happened, the horse landed on top of him.’ Reen stopped talking for a minute and fiddled with her necklace. ‘Everyone just hoped he died instantly because he wasn’t found for a couple of days, and the horse was still on top of him, still alive. It was pretty obvious it had been thrashing around, trying to get up, but with a broken shoulder, it couldn’t.’
‘Bloody hell!’
‘Yeah. It was a pretty awful time.’
‘I don’t think I can even begin to imagine. There’ve been some tragedies here, haven’t there?’ she said quietly.
‘Oh yeah, we’ve had more than our fair share,’ Reen agreed.
There was a pause and Eliza remembered the car she’d seen the previous evening. ‘Oh, by the way, I saw the weirdest-looking car last night.’
Reen looked up from the onions she was chopping. ‘Last night? Did you go out after the meeting?’
‘I couldn’t sleep, and the night was too beautiful for me not to try to take some photos,’ she answered.
Reen put down her knife and leaned against the bench as Eliza described the vehicle she’d seen. She thought she saw recognition in Reen’s eyes.
‘Do you know the car?’ Eliza asked.
Reen started to say something but was interrupted.
‘Eliza! Are you in there?’ Heidi came into the shop, Chris and Tilly following.
‘Yep, here I am. Ready to go?’
There was a chorus of ‘Yes!’.
‘Right then, we’d better get you in the car. You’ll be able to tell me the way, won’t you?’ She had a mud map that Reen had drawn for her folded in her top pocket, but didn’t think the girls needed to know that.
‘Yeah, we can,’ Heidi answered.
‘Cool. Well then, let’s hit the frog and toad.’
‘The what?’ Tilly’s brow crinkled in puzzlement.
‘Oh, that’s just a funny saying. “Hit the frog and toad” means hit the road,’ Eliza explained. She turned to Chris. ‘Thanks for bringing them into town.’
‘No problems. Cuts down the trip for you by a fair bit.’
‘We’ll see you later on, then.’ She turned to the girls. ‘Do you need to go to the loo or have a drink before we go?’
‘No way! Mary will have sponge cake for us,’ Heidi said, excitement in her voice. ‘She knows it’s our favourite, doesn’t she, Tilly?’
‘Yep!’
The drive to Mary and John Caulder’s was short in comparison with some of those Eliza had done. The girls chatted constantly throughout, their enthusiasm obvious.
‘Just round this corner,’ Heidi pointed. ‘The ramp is right at the bottom of the creek. Gets flooded sometimes.’
‘Do you get enough rain here to flood?’ Eliza asked as she took her foot off
the accelerator.
‘Some years,’ the girl answered. ‘Not very often, though. Uncle Jacob talks about one year he couldn’t get around Manalinga ’cause he kept getting bogged.’
Eliza turned into the driveway, crossed the cattle grid, and followed the road as it wound along a creek bed until it went up and over the bank.
In front of them was a flood plain, covered in green grass. Woolly sheep were grazing and, in the distance, Eliza could see a homestead nestled at the base of a line of hills.
She slowed down to try to take everything in, a feeling of peace coming over her. She slowed the car to a stop.
‘What’s wrong?’ Tilly wanted to know.
‘Do you mind if I take a couple of photos?’ Eliza asked, grabbing her camera bag. Without waiting for an answer, she was out of the car and scanning the view for the best angle. She stood and closed her eyes, hearing crows and magpies singing. There was an occasional bleat from a lamb and then a deeper, louder one from the mother ewe in answer.
She could hear the leaves of the trees in the creek rubbing together. A prickling sensation rippled across her skin and she opened her eyes. She’d never felt like this before.
A lone galah flew overhead, crying loudly, prompting Eliza to open her eyes. She looked straight at the homestead and realised it was pulling her towards it. Finally, she understood her reaction.
It felt like home.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ Mary called as she came down the steps from the verandah. ‘How are my girls?’ she asked, holding her arms open as Heidi and Tilly ran towards her.
‘Careful!’ Eliza said, frightened they’d knock the older lady off her feet.
‘Hello, Eliza,’ Mary smiled warmly at her. ‘Come on in.’
‘Thanks. How are you?’
‘Fine, as always,’ she answered as they walked inside, one arm firmly around each of the girls.
‘Did you make the sponge cake, Mary?’ Tilly asked.
‘Of course I did! I can’t have you two coming to visit me and not have any cake!’
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