by Tony Parsons
Anne pulled the towel from beneath her coat and rubbed the pup as dry as she was able. It was a little black and tan bitch, between two and three weeks of age. She put it back with the other pups and then tried to rub Moss dry. It was too hard for her to bend over and she dropped down on her knees. ‘You’ll make your pups as wet as you are,’ she said as she rubbed her. Moss didn’t wait long and jumped back into her kennel. There was a board across the front and it was high enough to keep the small pups inside.
Anne made it to her feet and turned to go back to the house. The ground was very slippery and she felt momentarily light-headed. Her feet slid away and then she was falling, falling. She put out her right arm to try and cushion the fall and felt pain shoot up into her shoulder. Her whole body shook as she fell. Her stomach heaved, and as she lay with the rain beating down at her, a sudden pain gripped her. ‘Oh, God. Not now. Not here,’ she groaned. She realised she had to get up and somehow make it to the house. She pushed herself to her feet and found that she had a job to stand upright. Something was wrong inside her. ‘Can’t stay here,’ she muttered to herself through clenched teeth.
Slowly and painfully Anne pushed herself back to the front verandah. It was all she could do to get up the stairs and collapse into a big cane chair.
It was there that Angus and Shaun found her. Between them they managed to get her into the truck. The creek was now a frightening prospect and even the big truck felt the force of the water as it inched across the bridge. Anne was too far gone in her pain to fully comprehend the scene around her and Angus did not mention just how concerned he really was. Instead he concentrated on getting her across safely. Anne’s head was on his shoulder and she was trying hard not to cry out. The pains were coming and going with a severity she had not expected.
The truck inched up the far bank and Angus lowered the window and waved goodbye to Shaun on the opposite bank. Rain and wind beat at the windscreen and he could feel the truck tremble. Visibility was no more than about thirty yards. He looked down at Anne and she gave him a weak smile.
‘I took a fall, Angus, and now I think the baby is coming. Something happened when I fell, and it hurts a lot.’ She winced as a spasm of pain hit her. Angus tried to console her by putting his arm around her shoulders.
‘Hang on there, old girl. We’ll soon have you in hospital. I’ll change you over to the car when we get to Inverlochy, which will be a lot more comfortable for you. You’ll soon be in good shape.’
Anne wanted to believe him but she had her doubts. ‘Andy won’t know what’s happened to me,’ she said. ‘He’s on his way home from Forbes.’
‘Don’t you worry about that. We’ll leave a message for him at the Federal. He’ll find you,’ Angus said.
There was water spreading across the road below Inverlochy. The dip below the house was filled with water. It formed a cowal like a mini-billabong in flush times. Angus wondered how much more water was across the road on the way to town. If this rain kept up, nobody would be able to get to town. He debated whether to take Jane in with them. She was a couple of months behind Anne in her pregnancy, but Angus didn’t want to risk her having a similar sort of fall. What’s more, there was no time for her to pack.
He backed the big truck alongside the garage and looked down at Anne. ‘Can you make it inside or would you prefer to wait here while I run and talk to Jane?’ he asked anxiously.
She saw the concern on his face, even through her pain. ‘I think I’ll stay here, thank you, Angus. You won’t be long, will you?’
‘No, I’ll just tell Jane to call the ambulance and then we’ll get you into the car,’ he said, and raced off towards the homestead.
As he came into the house without waiting to remove his dripping oilskins, Jane asked, ‘Where have you been, Angus? What’s happened?’
‘Anne is in the truck,’ he replied. ‘She’s had a fall and the baby is on the way. Will you ring the ambulance and get them to meet us on the road?’
‘Oh, Angus,’ she said with alarm in her eyes. ‘Will you get Anne to the hospital in time?’
‘How should I know? I’m not a doctor. I’m more worried about getting her there at all. You should have seen the creek. And our cowal is overflowing. I’m inclined to think you should come with us. Andy’s out of town and I think Anne could use some support. No – on second thoughts, it could be a tough trip. I want you to stay here. Don’t want you going into labour, too. I’ll get back somehow.’
Andy was in trouble. The faithful Chev utility that had transported him to sheds all over Queensland had finally rolled to a stop in Bathurst. The nearest garage had towed it under cover and he had been assured that they could fit a new carbie.
‘It’s like this, mate,’ the garage foreman said. ‘There’s this cocky who’s a bit of a nut on Chevs. He’s got a bloody great stack of Chev spare parts. I reckon he’d probably have fifty carbies out there.’
‘Has he got one to fit my ute?’ Andy asked, trying to keep his temper in check.
‘Haven’t a clue. He’s out looking at his stock. Shifting them, his missus said.’
‘I don’t want to pressure you, but my wife is due to have a baby any tick of the clock and I can’t get through to her by phone. She could be in big trouble.’
‘That’s tough, mate. Look, I’ll send the young fella out straightaway. If Joe’s got a carbie, we can fit it real quick. No sweat. You go and have a feed so you’re ready to hit the track. Will your dog be right in the back?’ Ring was sitting in the mesh crate with canvas roof and sides which Andy used for carrying his dogs around in.
‘He’ll be okay.’
Andy tried to call High Peaks again, but the phone was still dead. The Inverlochy phone sounded okay and he was relieved when Jane answered. But not for long. When she gave him the news about Anne, he was left temporarily speechless.
‘Had a fall? And the baby’s on the way? Hell. Look, I’ll ring the ambulance.’
The ambulance station answered his call at the third ring. He knew all the staff there and recognised Tom Stratton’s voice.
‘It’s Andy MacLeod here, Tom. I’m stuck in Bathurst with car trouble. Do you know what’s happened with my wife?’
‘Sure, Andy. We’ve already picked Mrs MacLeod up. She’s in the hospital at the moment. She made it in time.’
‘Thank heavens. I’ll ring the hospital now.’
The hospital receptionist was not very informative. ‘Mrs MacLeod was operated on not long after she was brought in,’ she said. Andy had a job hearing her through the rain beating on the iron roof.
‘Is she all right?’
‘I believe so, but you would have to talk to Dr Ramsay yourself.’
‘Look, I’m stuck in Bathurst and I can’t get there yet. I’m Mrs MacLeod’s husband. Surely I have a right to know what’s going on.’
‘Mrs MacLeod is in a satisfactory condition and the baby is doing fine,’ the woman said almost grudgingly.
‘God Almighty, you could have told me that five minutes ago!’ Andy exploded. ‘If it would not be too much trouble, would you mind telling my wife that I have had a breakdown in Bathurst and I hope to be back some time late this afternoon.’
‘Very well, I will pass that message on.’
The line went dead and Andy put the phone down with his heart still beating wildly. Anne had had the baby and they were all right. A huge wave of relief swept over him. It was only then that he realised he had not enquired whether he had a son or a daughter. He swore under his breath and redialled the hospital.
‘This is Andrew MacLeod again. Did my wife have a boy or a girl?’
‘A boy, Mr MacLeod,’ the receptionist said.
‘A boy. Thank you. Thank you very much,’ he said in something of a daze. Anne had had a boy. A boy. That was terrific. He walked down the street to the first cafe he came to. It was still raining cats and dogs. What did that matter? He had a son.
Andy MacLeod was a very relieved man when he finally parked h
is ute outside Merriwa Hospital. All he had been able to think about on the long drive over was Anne and the baby. The Chev hummed along through the rain and crossed every water-filled dip on the road back to Merriwa. He could have been stopped several times but he put the old canvas screen over the front and ploughed on through.
Anne was asleep when he entered her room. He looked down at her as she lay there, the woman who had transformed his life. He asked himself for the hundredth time why on earth Anne had chosen him. She looked tired and there were dark smudges under her eyes that he’d never seen before. For all that, he thought she’d never looked so beautiful. He stood gazing at her for some time before sitting down beside her bed. He lost track of how long he sat watching her before she eventually opened her eyes. They lit up when she saw him and she opened her arms out wide. He kissed her and buried his face in her hair.
‘I’m sorry, Anne. I was a fool to go to Forbes. A damned fool. They say you’ve been operated on. Are you all right? What about the baby?’
Anne had never seen her husband so concerned. What would he think when she gave him the news?
‘Oh, Andy, I am afraid there is both good and bad news. The good news is that we have a ten-pound son, and he is just beautiful. You’ll love him.’
‘A son. That’s terrific, Anne. Can I see him? Where is he? Ten pounds. Isn’t that rather heavy?’
‘Heavy enough, dear, and you’ll see for yourself in just a minute. But I’m afraid the bad news is that there aren’t going to be any more babies. Something went wrong, and I’m sorry to say that the factory has been closed down.’
Andy bent and kissed her again. ‘We couldn’t want for any more than the two of us together and a child of our own. The main thing is that you’re all right and so is the baby. Nothing else matters.’
‘Oh, Andy.’ She knew he must have been as disappointed as she was. They had both been so keen to have more children. She was determined not to cry in front of him, but his calm acceptance of her news broke down her resolution. He really was a man and a half.
‘Please don’t cry,’ he said, taking her hands in his. ‘It doesn’t matter that we can’t have more children. I’ve got you and I’ve got a son, so I’m a long way ahead of where I was a couple of years ago. But, tell me, how did you fall?’
‘I slipped on the verandah, dear – top-heavy,’ she told him, not wanting to let on what she’d really done. ‘I had to have a Caesarean.’
‘Oh, my poor Anne. I’m so sorry I was stuck in Bathurst.’
A young nurse came into the room and Anne whispered in her ear. She nodded and left the room, returning soon after carrying a bundle swathed in a blue and white blanket. A pudgy red face and some dark hair was all that could be discerned through the wrappings. The nurse handed the bundle to Anne and she placed her baby beside her. ‘Say hello to your son, Andy.’
Andy gazed with wonderment at the small figure cradled against his wife’s body. He didn’t know what to say. Never before had he had anything to do with a day-old baby.
‘You can nurse him, Daddy,’ Anne said with her eyes shining.
Andy reached down and picked up the next-generation MacLeod. ‘Ten pounds, eh? Reckon he might end up a big fella,’ Andy said proudly.
‘I reckon he might, if he’s anything like his father.’
‘And if he’s got his mother’s looks, the girls will drive him mad,’ Andy said.
And the minutes passed into hours as together Anne and Andy sat staring in delight at the miracle in their arms.
The rain began to ease during the night and Andy decided to head out to High Peaks. First he had to call in at Inverlochy to thank Angus for everything he had done. Andy always felt uncomfortable about being beholden to Angus, but he never took anything for nothing. If a fellow did him a good turn, he always tried to reciprocate. It was hard to do that with Angus because he was so well-off financially. And despite the fact that he knew Angus respected him for his ability with dogs and horses, he did not accept Andy socially. Likewise, Andy didn’t have much time for some of Angus’s friends, who were out and out snobs. Angus fitted in with them well enough, but he did believe himself to be public-minded, a district benefactor. The thing was that whenever Angus did anything to help the community, it was always front-page news in the local paper. There were others who did good things but never got any publicity, and never looked for it.
Then there were the little incidents that had built up between Angus and Andrew over the years. Once, Andy had called in to collect a cheque from Angus, who had come out of his office with Rob Cartwright beside him. Rob had a glass of whisky in his hand but Andrew had not been asked into the office to join them. A similar thing had happened at the local show, on more than one occasion. Angus would be drinking with some of his cronies and would never ask Andrew over with them.
So it was with a little reservation that Andy approached Inverlochy. Angus came out on to the front verandah when he heard Andy’s utility pull up on the drive. ‘G’day, Andy. Going to try the bridge?’
‘Have a look anyway, Angus. It usually falls pretty fast. What a season we should have after this rain. You’ll have fat cattle for miles.’
Angus allowed a faint smile to cross his rather bleak countenance. ‘Well, you need a few good seasons to make up for the ordinary ones. How is Anne?’
‘That’s why I’ve dropped over. I want to thank you for what you did.’
‘Well, it’s a bad show if neighbours can’t help each other out in times like that. You’ll help me next time, not that you haven’t done so in the past,’ he added.
‘I’m obliged, anyway, Angus. You need any help, you just ask me.’
Angus nodded. He knew the calibre of Andy MacLeod. ‘How did the trial go?’
‘It wasn’t worth the trip, but Ring did win the Maiden. Hugh reckons I should take him to Canberra, but it’s damned hard for me to get away. There’ll be other trials, and other dogs.’
Angus was a little resentful about the easy way Andy tossed off the news that he had won the Maiden. Winning trials all the time seemed to come so easily to Andy. The closest Angus had ever come to winning a trial was obtaining a third place. He wondered whether he should try for another imported dog. Perhaps a broken-in Wilson dog, if he could still get one out of him.
‘You didn’t tell me how Anne is doing,’ Angus said.
‘She’s doing quite well, thanks again to you, Angus,’ Andy said as he walked back to his utility. ‘And I hope things work out well for you and Jane, too.’
Things did work out for the Campbells.
Two months later, Jane gave birth to a baby daughter, Catriona. If Anne felt any jealousy at seeing Jane with a daughter, she didn’t let on to anyone. She was totally immersed in caring for her baby son, who had been given the name of David, or Davie for short.
When Andy went to collect Anne and David from the hospital to bring them home, his heart beat a shade faster than usual. And when he handed the baby up to Anne on their front verandah, he felt like a king coming home to his kingdom. The kingdom was High Peaks and David MacLeod was its prince.
Chapter Six
David MacLeod was indeed a great joy to his parents. If Andy MacLeod was the provider, manager and general factotum of High Peaks and Anne was the calm, capable homemaker – and, when required, stockperson – David was the heart and soul of the property. There was never a boy who loved his home more than David loved High Peaks. He had ridden over every inch of it before he was five years of age, and could crack his first whip some time before that.
Anne realised quite early on that her son was somehow different from other boys. He never sought the company of others and was perfectly content to roam the hills on his own, with a kelpie or two running beside his pony. For another thing, David was never going to be dux of the school as she had been before going to teachers’ college. The genes that David had inherited from his father seemed to have swamped her own. Although he was as smart as paint, David had no intere
st in anything but the bush and his animals. In the beginning it was all animals, but as he grew towards his teens, David’s major passions became kelpies and stock horses. And his dogs loved him in return. There was a rapport between them that amazed many people. This was no surprise, since Andy was by far the best local dog man.
Anne was smart enough to be grateful that she had a fine boy. If she could not make her son a great student, she could at least make him a decent human being.
There were times, such as horse sports days, when David’s activities caused her great anxiety. From a very early age David had exhibited a fanatical desire to ride horses with his father. When he was only two years old he had been given a rather rare red roan pony by a neighbour, Pat Metcalfe, in return for a week of Andy’s shearing. For a while Andy led this pony from his own mount, until, at his small son’s urging, he dispensed with the lead and together they rode the highest peaks of the land. But the lead was always clipped on again before they came in sight of the homestead. Andy knew full well what Anne would say about her son being let loose in wallaby country. It took a fair rider to handle a horse in the high country. To some extent you had to rely on your horse, but you couldn’t go to sleep on the job. There were steep upthrusts of rock with deep gullies and shifty stones. Yet David’s pony had the agility of a goat and never once came to grief. Moreover, his small rider could cling to him like a monkey as he rode the most dangerous places on High Peaks on his own.
Anne never ceased to worry about her son. When he was absent in the hills she would make many trips to the back gate to watch for the first sight of him emerging from the top country. She had a pair of field glasses, which hung on a hook at the back step. Anxious eyes scanned the high slopes until the pony came into view. Yet she never let on to David about her concerns. She had to be careful not to coddle her son. This would never do for Big Andy’s boy.