by Di Morrissey
‘I’m sure they won’t give a hoot. The owner never comes near the place. But are you sure you want to take this on? You’d better check the outhouses.’
The old wooden bails had been upgraded from a milkshed to extra sleeping quarters. On one side was a sliding glass door looking towards the creek.
‘The light, it’s brilliant. Should be bright in here all day,’ exclaimed Dani.
‘It faces north,’ said Helen, bending down to lift a section of the blotchy linoleum. ‘Gawd, this must be fifty years old. You’d be better ripping it up and putting mats down on the floorboards.’
‘They’ll get splashed with paint. I rather like the bare look,’ said Dani rubbing a foot over the coarse, broad-milled floorboards. ‘I’ll rip out the lino and do the boards with a limewash.’ She stood there deciding where to put her easel. The room was empty save for a row of shelves on one wall which must have been used for clothing. A perfect place for her brushes and paints and rags and sketchbooks.
‘So it’s a yes then,’ grinned Helen.
‘You bet! Where do I sign?’
In the solicitor’s office in town Dani signed a six-month lease. Mr Archer was courteous, formally old-fashioned. And curious.
‘You’re pretty isolated out there, that doesn’t worry you?’ he asked.
The image of the old cottage snug in the little gully sprang to Dani’s mind. The place had no visible neighbours, no one would hear a call for assistance. The dirt road leading to the gate could possibly get boggy in a deluge of rain. Undoubtedly there’d be problems of all manner of creepy crawlies, snakes and wildlife on the prowl. It was totally unlike anywhere she’d ever lived. But she thought of the view . . . from every window in every room there was a vista of the paddocks, the creek, the distant mountain range, the beautiful stands of trees.
She smiled at the solicitor. ‘Seclusion I think, rather than isolation. I’m sure I’ll be fine. And hopefully I’ll do a lot of creative work, and my son will settle in too.’
Helen didn’t say anything but she wondered about Tim adjusting easily to such a place after being in a city. Maybe Lara would continue in her role of caring for Tim until Dani’s six months were up.
The first person Dani told was Max. She found him arranging a display of carvings and artifacts.
‘Hey, Max. Wow, they’re great, who did them?’
‘Local mob at Planters Field. They came to a course I teach at TAFE and then we started an art and crafts group in the community centre at Planters Field. Been good for keeping the young people out of trouble and the old people are passing on knowledge. What we sell goes back to the group.’
‘Good on you, Max. I’m sure visitors will love these.’ Dani picked up a carved and painted snake sitting next to a lizard.
‘Hope so. Tourists always assume stuff like this has come from the desert or Arnhem land. We have just as much culture and history in this valley.’
Dani was surprised. ‘It’s not well known, I guess. What happens out at the Planters Field community? It sounds like they’re still separated from the town. Like the old days . . . fringe dwellers.’
‘Kind of, but there are services, Aboriginal housing, resources, a support network for kids who run wild, a women’s refuge, that kind of thing. Council and other groups have beefed it up with new buildings. It’s not like the outcast reserve it was in my grandmother’s day.’ He straightened up. ‘So what have you been up to?’
‘Oh, Max! That’s why I came by. I have news – I’ve rented a house.’
‘That’s fantastic. A girl of action. Where is it?’
‘Out of town on the road to Cedartown, a bit of a dirt road turn off, through an old gate, over a cattle grid past some trees and there’s a lovely little valley with an old farmhouse that’s still very, er, rustic. So it’s pretty cheap.’
‘I’m surprised. I thought you’d stay in town. But that’s good. You need open spaces, let nature guide you. Have you got a good painting spot?’
‘You bet. In fact, I was going to ask if you could come and have a look and help me set it up. There’s old bails that have been converted to extra accommodation. Lots of light, perfect for a studio.’
‘Be a pleasure. You can raid my surplus supplies too.’
‘Oh, thanks.’ Dani gave him a quick hug as Sarah came into the gallery.
‘What’s all the excitement?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Dani’s rented a place out of town. On a property,’ said Max.
‘Really? That’s terrific. But what about your son?’ asked the practical Sarah, knowing what a big move it would be for an eight-year-old.
‘Sarah, I haven’t tackled that yet. I’m hoping the experience of being here will broaden him. I admire your boys and Tabatha and Toby so much . . . I’d love to see Tim learn a bit more about country life. Be more self-sufficient, not need the city stuff . . . you know.’
Dani hoped her voice wasn’t trembling. She was scared that Tim would simply refuse or, if she insisted, he’d simply suffer and be resentful. In her heart she had a strange pull to see her son at home in this environment. Learn skills like chopping firewood, fishing, riding, roaming through the bush, camping out.
She looked from Sarah’s slightly concerned and caring expression to the steady deep eyes of Max as he studied her. Dani wanted to ask Max to teach her son some of the knowledge he taught the Aboriginal kids. While she knew in her heart such things might not be useful in the career path Tim might choose or the life he might lead, she had a sense they were valuable lessons. Inwardly she smiled to herself imagining Tim visiting his dad in the city and regaling him with tales of bush exploits.
Max, sensitive as always, touched her hand. ‘If Tim comes here, he will be part of our extended family. We’d be proud to have him join Len and Julian in some of our adventures. It will be good for him. Your instincts are right.’
Sarah nodded. ‘Toby and Tabatha are good kids. They’ll be mates for him. Angela and Tony, and Helen and Barney, are a great family. Kids need that sense of continuity, of grandparents, and an idea of where they belong, where they’ve come from.’
Max squeezed her shoulders. ‘You’ve made a good decision, Dani. Now, when do we help with the moving in?’
‘I’ll have to make a visit to Sydney and pack up and rent my house, move my stuff. I’m going to do it quickly . . . before I get cold feet.’
Dani arrived in Sydney, rushing through Lara’s door like a whirlwind. Lara took the news calmly, although her mind was spinning. She wasn’t sure Dani was totally committed to the move but now she’d signed a lease, well, that was that.
‘If you think this is right for you, darling, then I’m all for it. I just worry about Tim. When are you going to tell him?’
‘I guess tonight. I can’t hang about.’
‘Dani, what if he is truly upset and against the whole idea?’ asked Lara.
‘Well, I know he’s probably going to react badly because I haven’t shown him the house and talked it through with him. But frankly it needs work before he sees it. I’m trying to make him see it’s just a short-term experiment that will be enriching and valuable for us both. It’s not the end of the world,’ said Dani.
‘No way, mum! Why didn’t you ask me?’ cried Tim.
‘I realise it’s a sudden change. But you did have a good time when you stayed at Chesterfield –’
‘That was a holiday! That’s different. What about soccer? The comp season is coming up. What about my friends? What about school? In three weeks we have an excursion. Then it’s the holidays. I’ll stay here with Ma and then go up to your place. Just for the school break.’
He wheedled and complained, sulked and stormed off to his room.
Dani sat over a pot of tea with her mother.
‘It’s not surprising he’s reacted like that,’ said Lara. ‘And, as we discussed, maybe he should stay here with me for the next few weeks, we’ve been having a great time while you’ve been up there. He’s moved a
heap of his stuff in anyway.’
‘What do I do about my place?’ Dani’s dream of escape to artistic freedom was becoming very complicated.
‘Honey, the school holidays are only a month or so away. And a friend of mine in Melbourne rang me a few days ago asking if I knew of a house to rent as her daughter is considering moving to Sydney and needs somewhere to stay to see how she likes it, if she can get work. She could rent your place. They’re a lovely family.’
As always her mother had a solution. ‘Okay, Mum, let’s do that. But you’re sure about looking after Tim? It’s a full-time job.’
‘I’m sure. But you consult your son.’
It was a short-term compromise. Dani sensed Tim was hoping she’d get the whole country art thing out of her system by the end of the holidays and they could go back to normal. And Dani realised she could get out of the six-month lease on the cottage at The Vale quite cheaply if she needed to. It was almost a peppercorn rent.
It was a wrench leaving Tim, especially when he looked close to tears. Lara dropped her arm around his shoulders and shot Dani a comforting message with her eyes.
‘Look after Jolly, Mum,’ said Tim tearfully.
‘She loves it up there, all those rabbits to chase.’ Dani hugged Lara. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Lara squeezed her arm. ‘Do what you have to do, darling. I did.’
Dani thought about those words as she drove along the dawn-drenched highway. Her mother had been the one to leave her father and had made references to her own mother Elizabeth striking out on her own. Maybe it was a genetic flaw. Dani hoped she’d be able to feel settled and be in a stable and committed relationship one day. God, I sound like something in a women’s magazine, she chided herself. And turned on the radio news to distract herself.
By the time she’d left the city and was considering where to stop for breakfast, Dani felt her spirits lifting. She had a sense of severing, of a journey begun. Last time she’d headed north it had been on a whim, into the unknown. Now she was going towards a goal, a dream that had surfaced, if inconveniently. She would follow her mother’s advice to trust her instinct and try not to feel guilty about it.
She began mentally to decorate and fix up the cottage at The Vale. And soon she was thinking about what she’d paint first. The possibilities were endless. Looking at the now familiar rural scenes flashing past, colours, brushstrokes and images of her vision of the hills, paddocks and towns came to her mind, and how she’d reinterpret landscapes and settings. And pushing to the forefront of her mind was the beautiful land around Kelly’s Crossing, which could possibly disappear beneath Jason’s new homes. That would be her first task, she decided, to capture the landscape through the eyes of Isabella. The land Isabella had seen and been captivated by enough to settle and meet great challenges.
Helen had the cabins rented out and insisted Dani and Jolly stay in one of the spare bedrooms in the rambling main house as it would take Dani a few days to get settled. As agreed with the solicitor, the cottage would be furnished from ‘old family memorabilia’ stored in a barn on the property.
‘I think I’ll be buying a lot of paint and colourful throws to cover things,’ said Dani.
‘You never know, some of that “old memorabilia” could be valuable antiques,’ laughed Helen.
‘Not if it’s been stored in a shed with rats and possums,’ said Barney dryly.’ You’d be better off going to an auction. Moxie has one every Friday morning. A few dealers are starting to come from Sydney. You’ll find a bargain or three, that’s for sure.’
‘Sounds fun. I’ll go once I get an idea of what’s going into the house.’
She dropped by the Nostalgia Cafe for a coffee and Claude and George were elated at her news.
‘Can’t wait to see it. How fabulous, you fell on your feet, girl,’ said Claude.
‘I did rather. Or maybe my spiritual friends would say it was all meant to be. I’m being led . . . ’
‘Bullshit,’ declared George. ‘I believe you make your own life. I threw everything up in Sydney to follow Claude to France, and look where we are now! A completely new life.’
‘Et nous ne regrettons rien!’ Claude touched his partner’s hand.
George smiled at Dani. ‘Never have regrets. Waste of energy. So, can we come to this auction thingy?’
‘Love you to come. It’s held at the back of the old butter factory in Cedartown. I’ll let you know.’
Dani arranged with Max to go out to see The Vale and to set up her studio. They drove out in Max’s old station wagon laden with the art supplies he was giving her.
‘You are generous, Max, I suppose it seems silly to get the studio arranged before I even have a bed. But I’m waiting till the auction tomorrow.’
‘Ah, this is all extra stuff from art classes I run at Planters Field. The group decided they didn’t want formal whitey art classes. They started painting in the long grass.’
‘Outdoors?’
‘Yeah, sitting under a tree, using canvases and occasionally bark. One of the old men has taught the kids how to make brushes using hairs and twigs. They’re starting to learn stories of their country.’
‘Do their parents know the stories too?’
‘Not many. So many were stolen generation, busted up from their relatives and land. Or they and their parents were made to live like white people – without any privileges. I’m the first in my family to get a good education, a job, and have a business.’ He paused, ‘I love Sarah and I can’t imagine not being with her. But sometimes I worry what my old grannies and elders might have said about me marrying a white girl and becoming acceptable.’
‘A foot in two camps. Is that why you work so hard for the local Aboriginal community?’ asked Dani.
‘Yeah. We still have a lot of problems. I need to keep that connection. I have mixed blood but I’m Aboriginal before anything else. I needed to know what my history is. We all do, Dani.’
She was silent, remembering Lara fumbling through the unknown photographs of her family. And what was she passing on to her son? She made up her mind that no matter how much Tim objected, six months or a year out of the city in the place where his maternal family had lived would give him a sense of continuity later in life wherever he settled.
‘And do you know that history now?’ she asked.
‘Bits and pieces. Sometimes fragments come to me in dreams. I have one old aunty nearly ninety, she tells me things. Or explains what I dream. I’ve learned a lot from her.’
They clattered over the cattle grid at the entrance to The Vale and at the top of the rise Max stopped the car and turned the engine off. Late afternoon light slanted across the gully. There was a distant curl of smoke from someone burning off. The shadows of trees were elongated as if reaching out to engulf the small white cottage. The horses she’d seen were not around. There didn’t appear to be any living creature in sight. All looked still, cold, quiet.
‘Looks like I won’t have any distractions out here,’ said Dani lightly, trying to cover a trace of nervousness.
Max pointed to the tall scrubby grass close to the eucalyptus trees. ‘See, there, by the trees. Two wallabies.’
‘Oh, how sweet.’
‘They’ve jumped the fence or part of it’s down. Watch your dog, they can claw pretty good if cornered.’ Max restarted the car but before putting it in gear he asked somewhat shyly, ‘Dani, I thought I might do a little ceremony. Just to make it your home. Would that be all right?’
‘Of course. What a lovely idea.’ She didn’t ask what he meant, figuring she’d find out.
Max stopped some distance from the house and they got out of the car. For once Jolly didn’t race off, but stayed close to Dani, watching Max.
From the back seat he took a bunch of gum leaves and his didgeridoo.
They walked a few metres then Max stopped, speaking quietly. ‘You stay here. I’ll just go first. Ask permission.’
He crouched down and lit the green gum tips and, a
s the fragrant smoke swirled above them, he put one hand on the ground and held the smoking leaves above his head as he softly chanted. The words were not very audible nor did Dani understand the language, but there was something respectful and gentle in Max’s tone of voice. He then rose, placed the burning leaves on the ground and lifted his didge, balancing one end on his outstretched foot, and began to play. The shivery drone of the plaintive notes echoed across the gully, winding through the trees and fading towards the mountains. Jolly dropped to the ground, laying her nose on her paws.
When Max lifted his mouth from the didge, he stared into the distance as if listening. Then, after stamping on the leaves to be sure there were no sparks left, he came towards her, appearing deep in thought.
‘So am I welcome? Cleansed? Safe?’ she asked.
Max didn’t answer for a minute. ‘Strange, not sure what to make of it. A lot of voices, many spirits are here . . . Oh, don’t worry, you’re welcome,’ he added, seeing the alarm on Dani’s face. ‘They’ll look out for you. They’re glad you have come. It will be fine. It seems you’ll find what you’ve been looking for.’
He headed back to the car. ‘Let’s check out that studio of yours.’
Dani paused, gazing at the scene around her, the white cottage in the centre of the peaceful landscape. Safe. How many places were safe in this world? Awakening to sickening news, too often, of bombings, attacks and destructive accidents seemed another planet away from here. Had disaster and tragedy struck in this calm valley while generations had lived here, she wondered. Had the war years, the Depression, natural disasters touched the people who’d first settled in this part of the valley?
‘Coming?’ called Max holding the door open for her. And as she got in he closed the door and looked at her through the window. ‘What were you thinking just now?’
‘I was thinking this is a safe place. Or has this valley and the river seen its share of drama and trauma?’