Indigo Storm

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Indigo Storm Page 11

by Fleur McDonald


  ‘Where’s John?’

  ‘He’s sitting in the sunroom, waiting for his morning cup of tea.’

  When Eliza entered the house, she was surprised that it was cold and dark. As they walked down the passageway, she glanced into the lounge room. The small windows let in little light and the furniture had white sheets covering it.

  Further on, though, they came to the kitchen, which was warm and welcoming. A fire burned at one end and over the mantelpiece sat a line of photos—some of them black and white, others in colour.

  A large kettle hung over the fire, steam escaping from its spout, and on the table was the much-talked-about sponge cake, as well as homemade biscuits and sandwiches. To Eliza, it looked like there was enough food for a month!

  ‘Heidi, why don’t you take Eliza out to the sunroom, and Tilly and I will bring out the smoko,’ Mary said as she picked up a tray with a lace doily on it.

  So, this is what it’s like to have a grandmother, Eliza thought as she let Heidi lead the way.

  Stepping into the sunroom, she saw an old man with hunched shoulders and wispy grey hair sitting in an office chair behind a huge desk. Papers covered every inch of it. On one side there was a line of bookshelves, which ran the length of the room, sun-faded spines filling the shelves, and on the other were louvred windows, letting the sun spill across the floor. The walls were covered in more photographs.

  ‘Hi, John,’ Heidi said as she went to give the man a hug.

  ‘Ah, you’re here already,’ he said as she swung the chair around. He gathered the little girl in his arms. ‘And who have you brought with you?’ he asked.

  His eyes flickered over to her.

  ‘I’m Eliza,’ she said and held out her hand to shake his.

  After a moment’s pause, he took her hand in his. ‘Mary has told me about you.’ He seemed to be gathering himself before saying, ‘It’s nice to meet you, Eliza. Where are you from?’

  She opened her mouth to give a well-rehearsed answer, but stopped as a rattling of tea cups sounded behind her.

  ‘Who needs a cup of tea?’ Mary asked, entering the room.

  Eliza saw Mary glance at John. Mary’s eyes shut very briefly and an acknowledgement seemed to pass between the two of them.

  She was bubbling with questions but couldn’t say anything in front of the kids. Did they recognise her? Why did she feel at home here?

  ‘I’d love one,’ she answered at last.

  John cleared his throat and turned to Mary. ‘Well then, dear, you’d better play Mother,’ he said, hoisting Tilly onto his lap. ‘Now, little lady, I need to hear all about this family history project you have going on. Which teacher asked you to do this?’

  Eliza let the conversation flow around her, but her eyes were constantly moving. She looked at the photographs to see if there was anyone she recognised, but they were too far away.

  She searched Mary’s face for similarities to her own and couldn’t see any. Then she tried the same thing with John’s face. She watched as he laughed and talked with the girls.

  There was a moment when he glanced over at her, catching her eye, and something like recognition flashed through her, but it was so fleeting she could have imagined it.

  Or else she was looking for something that wasn’t there at all.

  Chapter 17

  ‘So, Eliza, what’s brought you to Blinman?’ Mary asked.

  The two women stood at the doorway of the sunroom and watched John dinkying the two girls on his motorbike. He’d offered to take them up to the top of the hill behind the house and show them the Sturt’s desert peas that were flowering.

  Eliza had wanted to go too—she hadn’t yet seen the flower—but it was too good an opportunity to talk to Mary by herself to pass up.

  ‘I had an accident coming up here,’ she answered, ‘and I totalled my car. While I was waiting for it to be fixed, I fell in love with the place. I enjoyed talking to Reen and I really do think this countryside is incredible. Plus, I’m paying off the repairs to my car.’

  ‘I see. Come and have a look around outside.’ Mary opened the door and indicated she should walk through. ‘I spend a lot of time in my garden these days. It’s a change from the dusty sheep yards.’

  ‘Who does the work for you now?’ Eliza asked, following the rocky path towards a large garden.

  ‘We lease it to Jacob,’ Mary answered. ‘A couple of years ago, I was hit by a wether in the sheep yards and broke my wrist. Then, a couple of months after that, John fell off his motorbike and cracked some ribs. We thought it was time to give someone younger a bit of a go. We still have a few sheep in the paddock closest to the house and that’s enough for us.’

  Eliza felt the smooth leaf of a locust tree that was towering over the back fence. ‘Um, I don’t mean to be rude,’ she said, ‘but are the girls safe with him on the motorbike? It’s just I’m in charge of them and I’d hate for something to happen—’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Mary interrupted her. ‘John only goes really slow these days and he’s been dinkying those girls since they were born.’ She smiled in the direction the motorbike had gone, looking nostalgic.

  Eliza still felt uneasy. How the hell would she explain it to Chris if there was an accident? She tried to let it slide.

  ‘I detect a slight English accent, Mary. Are you originally from England?’

  ‘Yes, dear. John and I came out as Ten Pound Poms. We came up here to work—what an experience that was. I’d never known heat or flies or dust like it. I cried for months. All I wanted to do was get on another boat and go home, but I couldn’t, and I wasn’t raised to quit things. After the shock wore off, I rolled up my sleeves and made the best of what we had. I wouldn’t live anywhere else now. They’ll have to carry me off here in a box.’

  ‘The flies have certainly been an experience,’ Eliza agreed. ‘They’re nothing like this where I come from.’

  ‘And where do you come from, dear?’

  ‘I was leaving New South Wales when I turned up here.’ She didn’t elaborate.

  As they wandered around the garden, Eliza exclaimed over the vivid geraniums and lavenders that were blooming. Mary told her she had planted the roses that were beginning to bud up many years ago.

  Outside the fence were the pepper trees that Eliza had noticed everywhere, along with a large palm tree.

  ‘How do you keep everything so beautiful? Surely the heat knocks the plants around.’

  ‘Oh yes, that certainly happens at times,’ Mary concurred. ‘I can remember summers when the heat was so intense, babies and the elderly died because of it. We’re lucky here, though, Eliza.’ She pushed open the wire gate and it squeaked loudly on its hinges. ‘Let’s head up to the woolshed.’ She pointed the way. As they walked over stony ground, Mary continued to tell her story.

  ‘We have underground water and that’s the only reason anything survives. We need the rain to bring the feed for the animals but, more importantly, we need water.’

  ‘Did you and John come up here all by yourselves?’ Eliza asked.

  An indecipherable look crossed Mary’s face. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘We came out with another couple. We thought it was going to be the adventure of a lifetime. We all wanted new challenges and experiences, and that was certainly what we got.

  ‘Now, have you seen a shearing shed before?’ she said, clearly changing the subject.

  Eliza understood that was the end of the conversation, and even though she had many more questions, she listened while the old lady talked of blade shearing in the early nineteen-fifties, and told tall tales of loud and boisterous shearers, cricket matches on dusty pitches, and tennis matches that turned into sing-a-longs around the piano.

  Once they were back in the house, Mary poured more tea and Eliza asked if she could use the toilet.

  On the way back from the bathroom, she stopped and looked at some of the photos on the walls. One of them showed Mary and another woman standing with John and another man, in te
nnis outfits. All four of them held racquets diagonally across each other.

  The next one showed a much younger John, holding a cricket ball high above his head. In another were a couple of young girls, both dressed in tennis whites, and off to the side was one featuring the same two girls with a birthday cake in front of them. Their eyes were sparkling as they looked at the candles.

  There were another four photos showing John and Mary and other couples in sporting outfits. In every one of them, they were smiling broadly and holding some type of trophy.

  ‘Oh, I see you’ve found the brag wall,’ said Mary, appearing alongside her.

  ‘Yeah, it looks like you guys were pretty keen on sport. Had you women beaten the blokes in this one?’ She pointed to the first photo she’d seen.

  ‘Unfortunately, they were just a little too strong for Clara and me. Still, sport is huge in country areas. It’s almost like the fabric that holds us all together in the tough times. Do you play anything? Our tennis team is always looking for new players.’

  ‘I haven’t played since school. I’ll sign up when the season comes around. You don’t still play, do you?’

  ‘I’m a bit slow around the court, but I do have a hit now and then. Nothing competitive anymore, I’m afraid. By golly, I used to love a good final!’ Mary’s face lit up. ‘Now, I’m sure it was 1958, and Clara and I were the defending champions. Copley—a little town just north of here—had another couple of girls who were very good, but we weren’t going to let them beat us. We ended up going right to the wire. We had tiebreakers every game! In the end we won but it was a marathon. Four hours and thirty minutes and, let me tell you, dear, we were a mess at the end of it because it had been a fairly warm day. It was worth it, though.’

  ‘And these two girls?’ Eliza asked. ‘They’re so cute!’

  ‘That’s our daughters, Karen and Roseanna.’ She looked fondly at the photo. ‘Such beautiful girls.’ She sighed. ‘I wished they’d stayed closer.’ She turned and started down the hallway. ‘I’m sorry, but talking about them makes me sad. I miss them, you see. Come back into the sunroom. I like sitting in there. I can look at the garden.’

  Eliza followed her, wanting to ask more questions. As she did so, she put a hand in her back pocket and pulled out the article she’d brought with her.

  Waiting until they were both comfortable, she took a deep breath and held it out. ‘I saw this in the R.M. Williams OUTBACK magazine. I know it’s a year or so old, but I was immediately drawn to it. I’m not sure why. Would you have any ideas?’

  Mary reached out and took the page. ‘Oh, I remember that. Such a lovely young girl from Port Augusta came up to do the interview. They wanted a couple of oldies to be in the picture, and we happened to be in Blinman that day, stocking up on a few things.’ She handed the page back. ‘It was just by chance we were there. The story isn’t about John and me, though. It’s just about the township of Blinman and a bit of history.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Eliza uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. ‘There was just something about the photo. I never understood if it was the photo of you two or the other pics of the countryside that attracted me to the area.’

  Mary was silent as she looked at Eliza, her eyes flicking over her face. ‘The country around here is certainly beautiful,’ she agreed after a while. ‘I can’t think it would have been John and me who attracted your attention. I don’t think I’ve ever come across you before, have I?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Eliza answered, feeling terribly stupid. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter. It was just a funny feeling I had.’

  Mary sat back in her chair. ‘Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? I’ve told you quite a lot about us.’ She linked her fingers together and put them on her knee as she looked at Eliza expectantly.

  ‘There’s not really very much to tell.’ Eliza was flustered. She’d felt comfortable with this woman until now.

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly! Everyone has a story. Where were you born?’

  Eliza looked down. She felt the tell-tale heat of tears behind her eyes. That was not what she wanted. She started to sing ‘Fight Song’ silently and imagined strength radiating from her core. Not her heart, not her head, but her core, deep within her.

  ‘Oh, my dear, I’ve upset you,’ Mary said softly, leaning forward to put her hand on Eliza’s knee. ‘I’m so terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.’

  Eliza shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine. I just don’t know much of my history, that’s why there isn’t much to tell.’ In one way, she wanted to tell Mary everything. To let it gush out of her and leave her, but she knew she couldn’t. She would be risking everything she’d fought so hard for. Her freedom, her independence, her ability to control her own life and be happy. So she pressed her lips together, swallowed and looked up.

  ‘I was living in New South Wales before I headed over here. Teaching at a school there. I really felt like a change, so I sold everything and left. I wanted to travel, to see Australia. So that was what I did.’

  ‘And your family?’

  ‘I don’t have any.’

  There was a pause, before Mary offered a quiet, ‘I’m sorry.’

  Eliza, wanting to lighten the atmosphere, smiled. ‘So, I’m off on a great adventure, but I seemed to have got stuck in Blinman!’

  ‘I don’t think that’s such a bad place to get stuck,’ Mary answered with a smile. ‘We like taking people under our wings here and that’s just what we’re going to do with you, my girl. We’ll be your family.’

  Chapter 18

  Dave reread the intelligence report that he’d printed off earlier that day.

  It was the second lot of information he’d received in about two weeks. The first time he’d been told animal trafficking could be going on, he’d driven up to the Flinders Ranges National Park, just to have a bit of a look around. It had been a while since he’d been up there and he needed to reacquaint himself with it. To hide what he was doing, he’d taken Kim with him, knowing they would be able to catch up with Reen during their trip.

  ‘We were camped in the Flinders Ranges National Park, and one evening, I was getting tea ready when I heard a conversation that I found very strange,’ Dave read. ‘There were three people, two men and a woman. The conversation went something like this:

  ‘So, can you get them out tomorrow?’

  ‘We’ll leave tonight. Have they been packed properly?’

  ‘What do you think I am? Of course they have.’

  This man sounded very annoyed.

  ‘Okay, we were just checking. We lost so many Flinders Rangers worm-lizards last time, we didn’t get paid.’

  ‘That wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘Have you got the equipment organised yet?’

  ‘Yep, that’s all done.’

  ‘We need as many eggs as we can get.’

  ‘I’m on the lookout.’

  I didn’t hear too much after that, as they moved away. I went out of my caravan to have a little look around, but I couldn’t see anyone or hear anything. I went straight to my husband and told him what I’d heard, because we’d seen something on the news about animal trafficking recently. We decided it needed to be reported.

  Dave put down the report and leaned back in his chair, thinking. It was a hearsay report—they hadn’t actually seen anything, just heard it.

  He’d never had to investigate anything like this before.

  Glancing through the first report he’d received, he tried to see how it all fitted together. The original account had come from the New South Wales Stock Squad. There was nothing concrete in it but the word around a few country pubs near the New South Wales and South Australian borders was that a group of people was trafficking animals and reptiles from the northern Flinders Ranges area, and officers should keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

  The something suspicious was this statement from Melissa and Ian Hooper, particularly the mention of the lizards and not getting paid for them. Da
ve thought it was worth going on another trip and having a chat with the ranger up there.

  Stuffing his mobile in his pocket, he went outside and opened up the back doors of his four-wheel drive. Pulling out the trays in the back, he methodically went through the equipment, checked the spare tyre and generally made sure everything was in order for a trip.

  ‘Hey there, you gorgeous creature,’ said Kim from behind him, putting her arms around his waist and laying a kiss on his neck.

  A smile broke across his face and, not for the first time, he thought how lucky he’d been to meet Kim again while investigating her niece after a money theft at the Torrica rodeo the previous year. He’d been lucky that Milly had been innocent and that Kim hadn’t been angry about the investigation.

  ‘Hey back,’ he answered and turned so he could kiss her.

  ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Reckon I’m going to head back up Blinman way.’

  Kim stepped back and leaned against the side of the car while Dave continued his check. ‘Ah.’ She paused before asking, ‘When are you heading off?’

  ‘First thing in the morning, I reckon.’

  ‘I’ll have time to cook up a few yummy things for you, then.’

  ‘Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to do that,’ Dave said as he opened the forensic kit and rifled through the contents.

  ‘I know, but I like to.’

  Dave gave her a gentle look. He’d never met anyone who had understood him so well or touched him so deeply. He would swear that she knew what he was thinking before he said it out loud. ‘Have I told you today that I love you?’ he asked.

  Kim gave a grin, cocking her head to the side. Her long, curly hair tumbled over her ample breasts and Dave felt his heart start to beat faster.

  ‘You might have told me but you haven’t shown me,’ she answered coyly.

  He put down the kit and, with one swift movement, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. ‘How remiss of me,’ he murmured. ‘I’d better fix that.’

 

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