Where the River Runs

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘How did that work?’

  ‘I guess he just turned up at the neighbours and offered them money. They said yes or no.’

  Dave nodded. ‘Smart man.’

  ‘He certainly left our family in a good position.’ Tom scrunched the bedsheets up again and looked around the room as if searching for answers.

  ‘So you can’t remember the name of the family who were camped on the reserve then?’

  Tom thought for a while. ‘No. They would’ve all been gone by the time I was born. And I don’t remember anyone talking about anything like that. But I guess people came and went back then, didn’t they? There were lots of people walking the roads and looking for work during the Depression. I remember Grandma Adelia telling me about having to turn people away. They always gave if they could but it was a hard time and they had barely any food for themselves. Sometimes they had to keep the chooks in the cellar and guard the pigs and dairy cow so people didn’t steal them. Different times back then.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Dave agreed. ‘Tell me a bit more about your Granda Baxter.’

  Tom shrugged. ‘What’s to tell? One of life’s gentlemen. He and Grandma always had humbug lollies sitting in a wooden bowl next to their chairs in the sitting room. Grandma worked as hard as he did during the day and cooked for the whole family as well. They lived with my parents until they died. Made for a full house but it was fun when we went over there. My family lived in the overseer’s cottage until they all moved out and retired. Grandma Adelia died first, then Granda Baxter. After that, my mum died unexpectedly, and Dad didn’t want to be out here on his own, so he retired. Moved to Adelaide.’

  ‘Baxter was always around? For as long as you can remember?’

  ‘Sure was. He had a lot of time for us grandkids. I loved spending time with him.’ Tom was beginning to look tired. ‘Has someone called Pip?’ he asked.

  Chapter 25

  Chelsea was holding Aria’s hand as she recognised the tall, solid figure walking towards her down the hospital corridor and smiled.

  ‘Hello, Detective,’ she said.

  ‘Call me Dave, please. We’re all pretty laidback out here. Hello, Aria.’

  Chelsea dipped her head in acknowledgement as Aria said, ‘We’re going to see Papa.’

  ‘I think he’ll be very pleased to see you,’ Dave said.

  ‘Have you been in to see Dad?’ Chelsea asked.

  ‘I have. He seems in good spirits, despite everything.’

  Chelsea felt a sense of relief—as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. ‘I haven’t seen him yet. The doctor told me to head home until he woke up, so I did.’

  ‘And the doctor will be back today?’

  ‘I imagine so. I spoke with him last night and there are a few things that have to happen before they take him to Adelaide for surgery on his ankle.’

  Dave nodded. ‘Well, I hope he mends quickly. He did seem slightly confused when I left, but I’m sure it’s just the knock to the head.’

  Chelsea narrowed her eyes. ‘Confused?’ She turned to Aria. ‘Do you want to run on ahead, honey? Papa is in that room just there. She pointed and Aria skipped away. When they heard Tom say, ‘Well, hello there, young lady’, Dave continued to talk.

  ‘He was asking if anyone had called your mother.’

  ‘Oh.’ Chelsea felt her shoulders slump again. ‘I see. There’s been a bit of that recently.’

  ‘Do you want to sit?’ Dave asked, indicating the chairs lining the corridor.

  Undecided, Chelsea rubbed her right thumb over her left hand. ‘No, look, I’d better get in and see him. Thanks.’ She started to move away but turned back quickly. ‘Oh, is there any news on the bones?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you were here?’

  ‘Sort of. I wanted to ask Tom about a family that used to squat up on the reserve back in the early 1900s. I know he wasn’t born back then, but often there are family stories passed down. I thought he might know something.’

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ Chelsea said. ‘I love hearing old timers’ stories or reading old diaries. I think their lives were much more colourful than ours today, where we’re stuck on computer screens and always discontent.’

  Dave grinned. ‘Some of the best times I’ve ever had have been spent around campfires, telling stories. I had a mate who was a travelling minister—he’s dead now, but he used to tell the best stories. All true, but he made them sound like they couldn’t be!

  ‘Anyway, back to the bones, that was all I was after—any information on the squatter’s family.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about them, but I’ll have a look and see what’s in Dad’s office when I get home. I know Great-Granda Baxter used to keep diaries, but I have no idea where they are, or even if they’re still around.

  ‘Do you think the bones have something to do with my great-grandparents?’

  ‘Who knows. The time frames might fit but, at the end of the day, I don’t have any family members to compare any DNA we might be able to get from the bones, because I don’t know who he is.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a bit difficult—with bones that old we’d usually leave them undisturbed in the ground, but we didn’t know how old they were. Following through on a case like this is more for my own sense of satisfaction than anything else.’

  Chelsea processed the information then asked, ‘If the person was murdered, would you be able to tell from analysing the bones?’

  Dave held out his hands in a ‘who knows’ gesture. ‘It’s so tricky. Unless there is a clear bullet wound through the skull or something, it’d be hard to say it was murder. For me it’s about identifying the person rather than how they died.’

  Chelsea nodded. ‘Well, I’ll certainly have a look when I get back home and see what I can come up with for you.’

  ‘Just quickly,’ Dave said, ‘do you remember your great-grandfather well?’

  ‘Baxter?’

  He nodded.

  ‘A little bit. I was about six when he died. He loved to play the piano—the one we have at home is the one he bought. I can remember how the notes used to sing when he played, and his hands were arthritic by then, so I can only imagine what his playing must have sounded like when he was younger.

  ‘He used to tell us stories. Dale and I,’ she clarified. ‘We’d sit on his knee—or I would, and Dale’d sit at his feet—and he’d tell us stories of the olden days. About his team of Clydesdale horses and the others he used for mustering. There’s a photo somewhere …’ She wrinkled her brow, thinking hard. ‘I’m not sure where, but I remember it quite clearly—more than him maybe, because the photo has been around all my life and he hasn’t, of course. It’s a black and white shot of Great-Granda Baxter sitting on a really tall horse. He was wearing a huge hat and had a rifle slung through the saddle. He was a very imposing figure, but he was always so gentle with his animals and us.’

  ‘Those stories would be worth a mint if you could write them down,’ Dave told her.

  ‘If I could remember them! I’ll have to put my thinking cap on. It’d be good to be able to tell Aria some of them.’

  ‘Absolutely. Guess you’d better get in there and see Tom, then. Give me a yell if you find anything. Like I said, it’s more for my own satisfaction than anything else.’

  Chelsea gathered up her handbag and nodded. ‘I’ll let you know.’

  Dave left the hospital, his heard whirling. No one had mentioned Oscar. So what Kim had found was indeed odd. But what did it mean?

  ‘Hi, Dad.’ Aria was sitting on her father’s bed, eating chocolates when Chelsea finally walked in. ‘Oh, you’re lucky Aria. Where did they come from?’

  ‘The nurse brought them,’ Tom said. ‘And we’re sharing them, aren’t we?’

  Aria nodded, her mouth full.

  Tom shut his eyes, then opened them again, studying her for a moment.

  She pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Bit groggy.’ He shut his eyes
again but held out another sweet to Aria.

  Chelsea handed Aria a book from her handbag. ‘Can you please sit near the window for a little while?’ she asked. ‘I need to talk to Papa about something important.’

  Aria gave Tom a chocolaty kiss and climbed down from the bed, taking the picture book with her.

  With Aria settled, Chelsea reached over and took her dad’s hand in hers and held it. His face twitched a bit at her touch, but he didn’t move. Keeping her voice low and steady, she said, ‘I’ve spoken to the doctor and he says you need to go to Adelaide for an operation.’ She told him everything Ryan had said to her. Continuing to rub his hand, she took a breath and went on. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been worried about you, so I spoke to him about your memory. I was a little concerned you’d been under so much pressure since Mum died that it was affecting your memory.’ She paused, waiting for the angry response.

  It didn’t come.

  She continued. ‘Ryan—that’s the doctor—is going to talk to you about this and, if you agree, he’ll order some tests to be run when you get down to the city.’ This time she squeezed his hand. ‘Dad …’ she paused and took another deep breath. ‘Dad, I’d like to stay here, if it’s all right with you. Live on Shandona.’

  Again, there was no answer.

  ‘I saw the birth certificates for the babies too. You’ve been through so much. So much stuff I didn’t even know about. Do you … do you think we could put all of that behind us and not have any secrets again?’ Her throat closed over as she said the last part of her rehearsed speech: ‘I really want a relationship with you, Dad.’

  There was nothing more to say, so she didn’t. She just sat and watched his face, wondering at the memories and emotions flittering behind his closed eyes. The lifeless babies? Had he held them in his arms before giving them to the nurse to prepare for burial? Or had he and her mum bathed and dressed them themselves, then handed them to the funeral director? Was he remembering the breakdown in relations between his wife and his daughter? Had he automatically sided with Pip, or had he tried to stand up for Chelsea? What other scenes from his life that she knew nothing about were passing through his mind?

  None of it mattered, Chelsea decided. She’d said what she wanted to say and now it was up to him. All she hoped was that she hadn’t overburdened him. She didn’t want to exhaust him. Or scare him.

  She was so lost in thought, she didn’t realise he was squeezing her hand gently. Holding her breath, she looked at her dad and, even though his eyes were still shut, he was smiling.

  It was just about dark when the doctor arrived at the ward and Aria was getting tired and cranky.

  Chelsea had begun to worry she wasn’t going to make it home in time to have dinner with Lily, when he pushed open the door and came in with a large grin.

  ‘I heard from the nurses that you were awake and chatty, Mr Taylor. And you’ve got visitors! That’s nice. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Not too bad.’ Tom’s voice was gruff and Chelsea could still see the redness around his eyes from the tears that had slipped out earlier. Although of course they weren’t tears, only his eyes watering from all the medication, according to him!

  ‘Great! Let me have a look …’ He pushed the sheets aside so he could see Tom’s ankle, and Chelsea gasped. It was held together with what looked like a gadget from outer space. The pins encompassed the whole ankle and at certain points looked like they pierced the skin to hold the bones in place. His skin was a deep purple—the sort of colour Chelsea imagined a dead person’s skin would be as they decomposed.

  ‘Oh my God, what a mess!’ she said involuntarily, then wished she hadn’t spoken as Aria looked up from the iPad she was playing on and saw it too.

  ‘Yucky,’ she said, wrinkling her nose up.

  ‘Oh no, this isn’t too bad. I’ve seen much, much worse. The swelling has gone down a little, but I think we’ve got a couple more days before you’ll be close to seeing the inside of an operating theatre, Tom.’ He examined the ankle a little more then stood up. ‘So how about I organise a transportation ambulance to take you to Adelaide over the next couple of days? What do you think?’

  ‘If that’s what you reckon, doc.’

  ‘Sure is.’ Ryan pulled Tom’s chart from the end of his bed and wrote a few notes before asking how the pain was.

  ‘About a seven.’

  ‘I’ll write up some more meds. These ones might make you a bit drowsy too, so if you come in and your father is asleep,’ he said to Chelsea, ‘that’s why.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Now, Mr Taylor, Chelsea and I had a chat yesterday …’

  ‘I know,’ Tom spoke up in a strong voice. ‘She told me today. And you do what you gotta do. I’ve not been wanting to admit there’s something amiss with me, but I know there is. You organise what you need to and I’ll do it.’

  Chelsea’s eyebrows shot up and she leaned forwards. ‘Really? You’ve known and not said anything?’

  Tom shrugged. ‘Didn’t want anyone to think I was going mad. Didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed.’

  ‘Cal has,’ Chelsea said softly.

  Her dad looked down at the sheets and twisted them in his hands.

  ‘Mr Taylor, can you tell me what’s been happening?’

  Tom told him about a few incidents she knew nothing about. Chelsea felt as though someone was squeezing her heart. Where was the strong man who had tossed her into the air when she was small? Held the reins of a horse in his hands and been able to throw a sheep?

  ‘He’s an old sixty-three,’ she thought. She listened to Ryan tell her dad there was certainly something going on with his memory, but they needed to do tests to find out what it was.

  ‘I’ll organise for you to see a neurologist in Adelaide. They’ll make a hospital visit, okay?’

  Tom nodded and seemed exhausted with the effort.

  ‘Righty-o, I’d better get on with my rounds. Nice to see you both.’

  ‘I’ve got to get going too, Dad. Aria needs to go home and I’m having dinner with Lily.’

  ‘Run along then, both of you. I’m ready for a sleep anyway. Tell Cal I want to see him.’

  ‘Will do. And I’ll see you in the morning, Dad. Coming Aria? Say goodbye to Papa.’

  The little girl gave him a kiss and handed him her toy bear that she’d been playing with. ‘You keep Pandy tonight, Papa,’ she said. ‘So you don’t get scared.’

  Tom took the bear and cuddled it. ‘Thank you, Aria. I need Pandy tonight.’

  She touched his hand and he grabbed hers, giving it a squeeze.

  Ryan held the door open and they walked down the corridor together.

  ‘Are you happy with that outcome?’ the doctor asked Chelsea.

  ‘He took it a lot better than I expected.’

  Ryan stopped and leaned against the wall. ‘Sometimes it’s a relief to be told there’s something wrong. Dementia patients, before they’re diagnosed, often feel like they’re going mad—that’s the way they describe it. Now I’m not saying that’s where this is headed, just that talking about it is a relief.’

  Chelsea nodded.

  ‘Good, well, I’d better be off.’

  ‘So you’re not from here?’ Chelsea asked as they walked together towards the hospital entrance.

  ‘No, Port Augusta. I’ve got to say, though, it’s always nice to come here and get away from the busyness of the hospital there. I enjoy staying at the pub and having a few counter meals. This is my third time back and I’m just beginning to meet some of the locals. Almost like coming home now.’

  ‘Don’t your family find it hard while you’re away?’

  ‘No family, just me.’ He grinned. ‘Makes it easier to do this job.’

  She smiled. ‘I can’t see that being a doctor is at all easy.’

  ‘It has its moments. What do you do, Chelsea?’

  ‘I’ve just retired as a concert pianist.’ Suddenly it felt right to say that. There was no nee
d to hide that she wasn’t working anymore; she’d just retired. Anyone was allowed to do that. ‘I’ve been away from Barker for a while, and when I came home this time, it felt right to stay. And I guess Dad might need me as time goes on.’

  ‘He might. Are you the only child?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She stopped. ‘It’s just Dad and me. And Aria.’ She smiled as she stopped at the front door and Aria said, ‘Yes, and me!’

  ‘I guess that makes three of us now,’ Chelsea said.

  ‘I guess it does, and it’ll be nice for you all to be together.’

  Chapter 26

  Dave pulled a beer from the fridge and waved it at Jack.

  ‘If you’re offering,’ Jack answered.

  ‘So, fill me in.’ Dave handed him the stubby and poured Kim a wine. ‘Any breakthroughs?’

  ‘My biggest breakthrough,’ Kim said, ‘is I’ve convinced Jack to try online dating.’

  Dave looked at Jack in surprise. ‘Really? I thought you were deadset against that.’

  Jack took a long pull of his beer and shrugged. ‘Guess beggars can’t be choosers, can they?’

  ‘You’re not a beggar, don’t be stupid,’ Kim said. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with online dating. I know plenty of people who’ve tried it and found lovely partners.’

  ‘Like who?’ Dave wanted to know. He kept a straight face as he copped a severe glare from Kim.

  ‘Oh, you know, friends I knew before I met you.’