Blue Skies

by Fleur McDonald

  The sun had started to shine through the breaks in the clouds, and after being shut inside all morning, Amanda delighted in the feeling of brisk air on her cheeks and the sight of Mingus galloping ahead of her.

  Reaching the road, she pulled a bundle of letters from the forty-four-gallon drum that served as a mail box. Tearing off the rubber band that held it all together, she flicked through the envelopes to see what was there.

  Near the bottom of the pile was a letter from the solicitor she had seen in Perth. She stuck the rest of the mail under her arm and opened it.

  It was the title deed for the remnant vegetation grant. She stared at the name – it didn’t mean anything to her. But it did tell her that the tract of land wasn’t part of Kyleena.

  Amanda sat back on her haunches after pulling everything out of the top drawer in the filing cabinet. Somewhere in here there had to be a clue about the mysterious owner of nearly two hundred acres adjoining Kyleena. And maybe she’d discover why her parents had lied about the remnant vegetation.

  She’d ignored all distractions since she had returned to the house – the phone, Mingus – and was surprised to see that it was nearly dark – she’d been searching for more than four hours and still found nothing.

  Walking out to the kitchen to get a drink of water she noticed the light flashing on the answering machine.

  ‘Amanda, it’s just me,’ Adrian said. Amanda hit the delete button. She didn’t want to hear. The way he was carrying on was beginning to unnerve her a little – she hoped he wouldn’t cause trouble.

  She had just opened the fridge door to see what she might have for tea, when she heard a knock on the door. Mingus started to bark.

  It had better not be Adrian, she thought angrily, as she went to open the door. ‘How much plainer can I make it?’

  She yanked the door open, ready to give Adrian an earful, then stopped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. She was standing face to face with her father.

  Chapter 49

  ‘Hello, Mandy,’ he said quietly. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered, beginning to shake. She backed away from the door. ‘You’re dead! You’re not real. I don’t know who you are.’ Her voice rose to a scream. ‘No! Go away!’ She buried her face in her hands and stumbled into the house. Her father followed, closing the door gently behind him.

  Mingus approached Brian cautiously and sniffed his legs, then retreated uncertainly.

  ‘I’m so sorry to frighten you. I am real – I promise. Please, don’t be frightened.’

  Amanda took her hands from her face, to look at him. She could feel her heart thumping, almost coming through her chest, and there was a rushing sound in her ears. She could see his lips moving but not hear his words. ‘It can’t be you! I’m dreaming. Please, I want to wake up!’ She covered her eyes again and began to cry.

  Brian reached out and touched her briefly on the arm. ‘I’m real, Mandy. Touch my hand.’

  Trembling, she put out her hand, ever so slowly and Brian covered her hand with his. Amanda looked at his face, his eyes, his hands, then took his hand in hers.

  ‘You’re really here?’ she asked disbelievingly. ‘You’re not dead?’

  Brian shook his head.‘No, I’m not dead.’

  ‘Why are you here? Where have you been?’ She snatched her hand from his and backed away again, trying to make sense of his sudden appearance – which made no sense at all . . .

  ‘So where have you been living?’ Amanda asked. They were sitting at the kitchen table. It felt like hours since she had opened the door, but in reality it was only thirty minutes. She couldn’t seem to keep still, was agitated and jumpy. Brian, on the other hand, had a serenity about him that Amanda couldn’t ever remember him possessing. Between them was a letter that Brian had brought with him.

  ‘I’ve been out on the Nullarbor plains, working as a dogger,’ he said. I hunt dingoes, wild dogs and foxes – Doug the Dogger they all call me. I get paid in food or cash. Nobody really questions who you are out there. I do my job, they leave me alone. That’s how I like it. My life is very simple, no grog, no bills – two of my biggest fears.’

  Amanda tried to think of another question to ask. At some other time and in a different situation, she probably would’ve found it amusing that the one thing – the one opportunity – she’d wished for, longed for, was sitting in front of her and she couldn’t work out what to ask or say. All the things she’d gone over in her head or said out loud in the privacy of her bedroom, all the words she’d wished she could say to her father, had gone. She couldn’t remember what they were, or how they were supposed to come out.

  Her father filled the gap for her. ‘You’ve done wonders with Kyleena, Mandy. I could see it from the moment I came in the gate.The sheep are in good nick, the fences are well maintained – it looks like a well-run farm. You’ve done really well. I’m very proud of you. Congratulations.’

  ‘Um, thank you.’ There was a long silence and then Amanda said, ‘Dad, I’ve wanted to talk to you so often since you, um, died, but I never thought I’d get the opportunity. I can’t think of any bloody thing to say – all I want to do is cry and scream. I’m so nervous and happy, I’ve got so much I want to tell you . . .’ Tears started to stream down her cheeks again.

  ‘Mandy, it’s okay. All the crap we went through is done with. I wasn’t very well. I just couldn’t seem to bring myself out of the pit I was in.

  ‘I couldn’t look out of the window and see the good things – the lambs playing or the green grass. My wonderful daughter. All I could see was a great thumping debt that I couldn’t see my way clear of and a huge gap left by the person I loved most in the world.’

  ‘Were you still grieving for Mikey, too?’

  ‘Mikey.’ Brian ran his hands over his face and suddenly seemed weary. ‘You know,’ he said softly, ‘I knew coming back was going to be difficult for you, but I didn’t consider how much it would affect me.’ He half smiled. ‘I suppose I had the benefit of knowing that I was alive – you didn’t.’ He was quiet for a while as he collected his thoughts, then he asked,‘How did you find out about him?’

  Amanda explained about the photo and the date on the back.

  ‘I knew your mother had kept that photo – I didn’t know where it was though. Poor, poor little Mikey. Never a day went past that I didn’t feel the ute hit him. He didn’t make a noise you know – just a bump. Sometimes I would wake in the night feeling it again and again.

  ‘Helena tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault, but it’s pretty hard not to blame myself – I was the one driving the ute, after all. She was an amazing woman, your mother.

  ‘You know, being out in the bush, alone with your thoughts, makes you see everything differently – more clearly, perhaps. I was finally able to accept that Mikey’s death was an accident – just like your mother’s death was an accident. It doesn’t mean I still don’t have regrets deeper than the river, but I can think of the two of them now without a crushing sense of despair and guilt.’

  Amanda searched her father’s face. He looked so different. His hair was tied back in a long grey ponytail and an unkempt beard covered his face. But she could see that his face and his eyes were clear, that he was free of the fog of grief and guilt that had surrounded him.

  ‘Um, Dad?’Amanda took a deep breath.‘I don’t know how to ask this, but I need to know . . .’

  Brian smiled his understanding. ‘Did I fall or jump? Mandy, I don’t know myself. You were lying there unconscious and suddenly I just snapped. I didn’t know how I would cope if you’d died too.

  ‘I drove back to the house and called the emergency services, then got a blanket and some cash that I kept in the house – at the time, I couldn’t even tell you why I did that.

  ‘I talked to you while I covered you with the blanket, tried to tell you how sorry I was for the way I’d behaved . . .’

  ‘I heard you,’ Amanda broke in.‘But I couldn’t speak. It hur
t too much.’

  Tears welled in Brian’s eyes. ‘I’m so pleased. I often wondered about that. I want you to know I was sorry. I hoped that as time went on you’d understand why I’d acted the way I had.

  ‘Anyway, I was waiting for the ambulance, standing by the edge of the river. I could say that I wanted to die so I didn’t feel any pain if you died, but I don’t think it’s that straightforward. I just felt myself falling towards the river all of a sudden, but I can’t tell you if I slipped or subconsciously made myself fall. The cold water was a shock. For a while I just let myself be taken by it, happy to think that it was all about to end. But suddenly I couldn’t breathe, there was water all around me, I was banging into things – trees, logs, rocks. I couldn’t get to the surface and I was terrified.’

  Amanda could feel herself holding her breath as Brian described the scene – she could almost feel the rush of the water around her.

  ‘I knew then that I didn’t want to die. I fought my way to the surface and then tried to get out of the river. I ended up about eight kilometres down the river before I managed to get out. And when I did, I hitched the first ride I could find to the Nullarbor.

  ‘Sitting in the truck gave me plenty of time to think about what I could do, and by the time I got out at Norseman I knew how I was going to go about living a secret life.

  ‘I like the life I’m living now – I never want to come back to Esperance. Mandy, you’re going to have to understand that once I’ve told you what I’ve come for, you can never contact me again. I don’t want to be found. Of course I love you and miss you, and I think of you every day. And maybe one day I’ll pop up again. But not for a long time.’

  Amanda swallowed as she took in what he was saying.

  ‘Dad I don’t want to lose you again – I was so wrong in a lot of the things I did – I’ve been wanting to tell you, to apologise for the way I behaved.’ Her voice rose and she spoke quickly, stumbling over words. ‘Did I make you leave? ’Cos if I did, I’m so sorry. Dad, please come back – I’ve missed you so much. Your letters weren’t nearly enough. Why didn’t you sign them? I did wonder if they were from you. I know you were grieving and I was as well. My way of dealing with things was different, I wanted to bury myself in work, not have to think, and by doing that I didn’t give you the space you needed to grieve. I’m so sorry.’ Amanda began to weep, all the guilt and sorrow that she had hidden away spilling out.

  Brian reached across the table to hold her hand. ‘You didn’t make me leave. I went of my own accord. I’m sorry I can’t stay, but when I’m gone, once all the emotion has passed, you’ll understand why I can’t.’ Then he frowned.‘I haven’t sent you any letters though, Mandy. I’ve wanted to – I’ve written hundreds of them, but they’ve all gone into the camp fire.’

  ‘But I’ve got a letter from you every year since you left. Wait – I’ll get them.’ She wiped her face with her hand and raced to the bedroom, grabbed them from the wardrobe and ran back to the kitchen, suddenly frightened that he might be gone. She gave them to him and sat down.

  Brian opened the first one and stared at it.Then the second and third and the fourth. ‘I didn’t send these, Mandy. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me.’

  ‘So it is someone having a go at me, then.’ She described some of the other strange things that had happened, finishing with, ‘But the police reckon there’s nothing they can do.’ She shrugged helplessly.

  Brian sighed and stroked his beard. ‘I think the answer to all of that might be in this letter. There’s a hut down near the river – it was where my father started his farming life on Kyleena. I don’t think anyone remembers it’s there now, but I’ve kept it hidden for years.That’s where I’ve been sleeping the past few nights, trying to work out when was a good time to see you.’

  ‘I found that when I was walking through the bush! I’ve been trying to work out if it’s on our land or not.

  ‘And, I heard something when I went to shut the gate the other night. I thought it sounded like someone chopping wood, then I decided I was being stupid!’

  Brian smiled.‘That would’ve been me and it was part of Kyleena’s land. Now my father wrote me this letter not long before he died – he wanted me to know the family skeletons so I could help prevent any deception in later years. Once I read it, I took it down there so it couldn’t cause anybody any hurt, but I saw a photo of you and Adrian in the social pages the other day, and I knew I had to come and give it to you. Read it carefully – once you’ve finished, you’ll know what to do. Now it’s time for me to go. Give me a hug.’ He stood and held out his arms and Amanda fell into them, starting to cry again. She wished he would stay, but knew she couldn’t make him.

  After a tearful goodbye, Brian once again walked out of her life and Amanda watched until he vanished into the night.

  Chapter 50

  Michael spent long hours pondering Kathleen’s death. He was convinced that it had something to do with their relationship, but he couldn’t fathom what. He had tried to glean information about Kathleen’s past few years from the townsfolk without it being obvious that he was searching for answers, but the most he could come up with was that she had gone to Kalgoorlie to stay with some relatives – health reasons, apparently. No one knew if she had married while in Kalgoorlie or why she had not returned to Esperance. And then there was the question of the little girl who had appeared at the boarding house not long after the funeral. She was a pretty little thing, the local gossips admitted. She looked like Kathleen, with long hair and curls, but the parentage of the child had never been discussed. That was not the sort of thing one questioned.

  It wasn’t until Thomas Cramm sought out Michael long after the funeral that the reason behind Kathleen’s death became clear. He was now trying to put a plan in place to look after Kathleen’s family without lying to Grace – or telling her the full truth either.

  Neither Grace nor Michael had returned to the place near the river where Kathleen’s body had been found. The hut was empty and they had agreed to move the orchard. Neither of them wanted to visit the area again.

  Michael entered the makeshift abode in the end of the shed and smiled as he saw Grace bending over the stove. She was beautiful, and even though she had struggled with this pregnancy, it suited her.

  ‘How are my two favourite women this morning?’ asked Michael as he shut the door against the cool air.

  Grace straightened and smiled. ‘Well one is still in the land of dreams, for which I’m grateful. It’s given me time to get the morning chores out of the way and start the bread baking.’

  ‘Well if our little one is sleeping, now’s probably a good time to raise something very serious I want to discuss with you,’ Michael said.

  ‘Oh! Do I need to sit down?’ she asked, smiling at him.

  ‘What would you say to deeding the land around the hut and the river area to the Cramms? I know neither of us wants to go down there anymore, and I’m sure that it would be a very meaningful site to them.’

  Grace sat down slowly. ‘That’s some of the most productive country.’

  ‘I know, but it’s low-lying land – we can’t grow crops there or graze sheep if it’s wet. It’s really only productive if it’s not a wet winter. Most years we have much more rain than we need. And for their sake, a peaceful setting, surrounded by the beauty of the bush, is a much better memorial to Kathleen than a headstone.’

  ‘You’re probably right. I have no thoughts of returning to the area – I find it haunting knowing that she spent her last night there. And the river, even with all its beauty, is quite fearsome. The power it holds when in flood sends chills down my spine. The thought of someone willingly entering it is beyond imagination – and what if one of our children wandered off and fell in? Yes,’ she said decisively. ‘I think that to be rid of that area is a good idea.’

  Michael didn’t let his relief show, but said, ‘I will go in to Esperance some time over the next week and see a solicitor to o
rganise the transfer.’ He moved forward and gave her a hug. ‘You are a remarkable woman, Mrs Greenfield!’

  Chapter 51

  The next morning, Amanda, still emotionally drained from the time spent with her father, got up and turned the kettle on, then turned the letter over and over in her hand, all the while promising herself she wouldn’t open it until she was sitting down with a cup of coffee.

  Heaping coffee and sugar into her cup, she turned to the fridge to get out the milk and noticed a full cup of coffee standing on the kitchen sink. Her heart started to pound as she glanced around the kitchen and then moved forward to place her hand on the cup. It was hot. Who had been into the house while she was sleeping? She was sure that it wouldn’t have been her dad. She knew with certainty, he wouldn’t be back.

  Mingus lay happily by the door, so whoever had been there must have gone. Trying to subdue her rising fear, she grabbed the letter, called Mingus to her, and walked down towards her father’s old office. Entering, she locked the door and sat down, her hands shaking as she sipped the coffee.

  Slowly, she regained her composure. She thought about her dad and the meeting last night. Trying to analyse how she was feeling, she realised that she wasn’t as traumatised as she thought she might be. Perhaps somewhere deep down she had known he wasn’t dead. Or maybe she was just hoping . . . Whatever the reason, she was overjoyed to have had the opportunity to talk to him, to be able to say everything she had longed to say, even though she was desperately sad to have to say goodbye.

  When she had first woken from a deep sleep, she wondered if she had dreamed his visit, but on opening her eyes she saw the letter next to her bed and knew it had been real. She lay in bed with her eyes shut, going over every word that had been said, every smile and every touch.

  Finally she turned the envelope over and lifted the flap. As she withdrew the letter, she recognised her grandfather’s writing.