The Painted Sky

by Alice Campion

  The past seemed to be jumping out at her at every corner. On a bookshelf her eye flew to a faded copy of Black Beauty that her mother used to read to her, patiently explaining what all the old-fashioned words meant.

  And the catfish painting. How had she missed this last night? It hung above the piano, a be-whiskered catfish swimming in a wavy stream of water while three yabbies fossicked in the river bed below it. Above the fish was only blackness. It was an Aboriginal mourning song to that native fish, she remembered Dad saying.

  Next to the gong on the mantelpiece were photographs, some in frames, some propped, curling against the tarnished mirror. In faded colour, teenage Jim and a younger Russell looked back at her. They stood with their parents outside Durham House, their arms held awkwardly away from their sides, country-boy style, as if about to draw pistols. In a silver frame the same two Larkin boys posed a few years later, her father strikingly handsome and Russell too, in a way; strong and promising. Next to that, three grinning children, stripped to their undies, wet and filthy, stood in a row, each offering the photographer a mud pie. Nina took a while to recognise the girl. God, that’s me!

  The memory of that day and others like it flowed back. The two boys stood either side of her, one a couple of years older than her, the other just a little younger. An endless summer mucking about in the waterhole and the ruins. She picked up the picture. That older boy’s face. So familiar. No. Nina’s hand went to her mouth. No. She felt a dull blush flood her face. The embarrassment at the gate. That dream. The boys’ names came back to her. Heath and Ben Blackett. It was him. The older one. Heath. No wonder he’d looked at her so strangely when she’d told him who she was. She groaned as Bach scampered over to her for a cuddle. She picked him up, grimacing as her hand started to ache again.

  ‘Bach, I am an idiot. An idiot.’ The sound of a car snapped her back to the present. She peered out the window. ‘Hey, Bachster, we have company.’

  Nina headed out to the cool morning air of the verandah, letting the screen door bang behind her. Bach wriggled free, scooted down the wooden stairs into the front yard and growled a low warning. Their visitor, in a huge cherry-red Range Rover, braked at the garden gate and sent a cloud of dust over what was left of the rose garden. A tall blonde perfectly-made-up, middle-aged woman emerged – sunlight flashing off her sunglasses. Her white linen pants and shirt were topped off by a flowing Hermès scarf. Gold glittered from a chain belt and dangling earrings. A voluminous Louis Vuitton handbag hung from the crook of her elbow.

  ‘Ah, you must be Nina,’ the woman smiled tightly, advancing down the path with her hand held out. ‘How absolutely delightful to see you here in our little community. Russell often spoke of you.’

  Bach nosed uncertainly around the visitor’s white leather boots as she strode forward. Nina walked down the steps to meet her.

  ‘Hilary Flint, your neighbour. We have Paramour on the other side of the Blackett boys next to you. Thoroughbreds and some cotton,’ she added before Nina had a chance to respond.

  So, this was Deborah’s mother. The interested buyer. Nina smiled a welcome.

  ‘Oh,’ said Hilary, coming to a stop in a waft of perfume and lifting her Dior sunglasses. ‘Oh, you look so much like Jim.’ This poised woman seemed suddenly watery, uncertain.

  ‘That’s what everyone around here keeps telling me. It’s kind of good to know,’ said Nina.

  Recovering, Hilary looked Nina up and down before continuing, ‘He never worried about what he wore, either.’

  If only Olivia was here, Nina thought. What a piece of work. ‘I guess you must have known him and Uncle Russell well, being so close by?’ Nina managed.

  ‘Poor, dear Russell,’ Hilary said, turning away with a sigh. ‘He had a hard life, no doubt about it, but he brought it on himself. I tried to help, but he was beyond reach. Stubborn as a mule and drunk most of the time. Just look at this place. It needs bulldozing.’ Hilary flapped her hand at the landslide of old junk and broken furniture that had settled on the verandah. ‘I doubt you’ll find anything of interest here. But please feel free to look around for a couple of days.’

  Feel free? Hang on, Nina thought, this property’s still mine.

  Hilary was still talking. ‘I’m heading into town now, as a matter of fact. Why don’t you come along? Surely your solicitor’s contract has arrived from Sydney. You’ve instructed him, haven’t you? You can sign while we’re there.’

  Nina felt her blood rise. ‘I don’t think so, no. I’ll probably be here a while. It’s important for me to find out more about Dad.’

  ‘Nina,’ said Hilary, ‘you city girls have no idea what it takes to stay on a property like this. It could be dangerous. I mean, you are out here all alone …’ She shook her head and reached across to take Nina’s arm. ‘Come along now, let’s be practical and get the paperwork settled, shall we?’

  ‘Hold on,’ said Nina, shrugging her off. ‘I don’t understand the difference a couple of weeks will make to you. I need to sort through Dad’s things.’

  ‘Really?’ said Hilary, amused. ‘All about Dad, eh? So you’re not stalling to extort more money out of me for this dump? If you are, then you can just forget it. Without water this land is worth nothing.’

  Nina stood, dumbfounded. Extort more money? What was she on about?

  ‘If it’s worth nothing then why do you want it so badly?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t feel the need to justify my business decisions to you. And as for your father, I – I was the …’ Hilary’s voice trailed off.

  ‘What? What about him?’ asked Nina.

  Hilary took a deep breath and patted her scarf into place. ‘There are things about your father that you will never know,’ she muttered through tightened lips. ‘Some things should just be left in the past.’

  Nina had heard enough. Who was this woman to tell her about her own father? What was she insinuating? There was a lot she didn’t know about her dad but one thing was for sure, he would have hated Hilary.

  ‘If you have something to say, just say it,’ said Nina, angry. Here was yet another person hinting something about her father. What was it her mother had said? A double life?

  Hilary strolled back to her car, Bach at her heels. ‘There’s nothing for you here,’ she said in a steely voice. Barely looking down, she pushed the little dog aside with a movement on the border between a nudge and a kick, and climbed into the car.

  ‘Quick, Bach. Here, boy,’ Nina called as the door closed with an expensive clunk. Hilary looked the image of country money, but it was all too bright and shiny to be convincing. She was a familiar type to Nina – the kind of wealthy client who tried to throw their weight around at the agency. Over the years she’d learned to quietly stick to her guns with people who were too used to getting their own way. The Range Rover spun its wheels as it took off, raising another cloud of dust. Nina made a show of waving. ‘Good riddance,’ she muttered. Jeez. How could that woman be Deborah’s mother?

  And again, that strange pressure to sell. Why? The place had been sitting here abandoned for the past year. Perhaps it was actually worth more than Hilary had offered, and they wanted her to exchange before she learned anything more about the local property market.

  She was not going to let that shark scare her away.

  And what had she said about Jim? There were things that Nina would never know. She would not budge from this place until she knew every one of them. But if she was going to sort through this mess to find out anything useful about her father, a bit of planning would be required. First, a shopping list.

  It was already hot in Wandalla when Nina parked behind the supermarket. Next to her, a ute carrying coils of fencing wire was guarded by a black and white collie. Nina rolled the window down so Bach could be sociable.

  ‘I’ll only be a sec, little fella,’ she said.

  Nina wondered if the locals would pick her for a newcomer this time. To go shopping, she’d pulled on jeans, her trusty red cowgirl b
oots and a gingham shirt tied at the navel. Not quite in the style of your average Wandallan, but she didn’t feel as conspicuous as she had the day before.

  On the main street, a leather-faced codger squatted against the wall of the pub’s deep verandah like an extra on a film set. Squinting out to nowhere from under a sweat-stained brim, he rolled a smoke with one hand, flipped it into his mouth and lit up, all in one smooth movement. A couple of dark-skinned girls lost in hilarity pushed strollers in tandem. A guy about Nina’s age in dress jeans, business shirt and sporting an early pot belly hurried across the road to disappear with his burger and can of soft drink into Glenbrook & Hardy Stock and Station Agents.

  Nina went to Campbells Furniture and chose the cheapest foam mattress on offer, arranging for delivery. Next, she stepped into the welcome coolness of the supermarket. Passing through a turnstile and selecting a trolley, she enjoyed the sensation of being in familiar territory. Soon, her slender pantry supplies were joined by heavy-duty gloves, scrubbers and a mop. She’d need to at least clean the kitchen if she was going to take the time to do a meaningful search. She added a little foam Esky and a bag of ice to her trolley, just until she could clean out the fridge.

  She headed to the meat section. A sandy-haired guy in a wheelchair stacked packets of sausages into a shopping basket balanced on his knees. She leaned across for a tray of chicken, but her arm brushed the man’s tower of sausage packets and one hit the floor and skidded into the dusty fluff under the fridge.

  ‘Whoopsie,’ said Nina.

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  ‘I mean, sorry, let me get it,’ she said, kneeling on the floor and reaching under the fridge.

  ‘We should have left them there,’ the man said. ‘No-one would find them for weeks until they started to smell.’

  Nina feigned horror and put the package into his basket.

  He smiled broadly. ‘I’m Ben.’

  ‘Nina,’ she replied.

  His laughing blue eyes and puckish smile made Nina smile, too.

  ‘Are you the new school teacher? Jeez, things have changed since I was at school.’ He looked into her trolley. ‘Not enough in there to keep a sparrow alive.’

  ‘No, I’m just visiting. Staying at my uncle’s place for a few days, to sort stuff out. He’s … he died a while ago.’

  ‘Just you and the mop then?’

  She smiled and nodded. The pleasure of finding someone to talk to was irresistible. Nina told him all about the house, the state it was in and the pile of bottles.

  ‘Oh, you mean Russell’s old place. You’re that Nina!’ Ben interrupted.

  ‘You knew him? Did you know his brother, Jim, my dad? I’m trying to find out what happened to him.’

  ‘Nina, don’t you remember me? Heath said he met you doing some fencing work on the side gate. My word, look at you. I used to tag along behind you and Heath, but you usually tried to get rid of me.’

  ‘My god. Ben. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you. But you didn’t … I mean you were …’ She stumbled.

  ‘Oh, this?’ Ben gestured at the wheelchair, as they moved towards the checkout. ‘No, that was an accident, three years ago.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Just then Nina caught sight of a tall figure in jeans standing outside the door. Heath. Images from her dream the night before filled her mind. Her face burned. Please don’t turn around. She busied herself, unloading her shopping, wishing she was somewhere else. Ben chattered on, and when Nina dared to glance at the door as she got out her purse to pay, she was relieved to see Heath moving away.

  ‘Hey. Earth to Nina.’ Ben waved his hand in front of her face. ‘I was saying, come over for dinner, we’ll have sausages.’

  Nina smiled.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, making a face and shaking her head. ‘Just thinking about cleaning out the fridge at The Springs – it’s a bit of a horror movie. And I’m beginning to think I should throw stuff out as I go, otherwise I’ll never get through the piles …’

  ‘Well, I’ll talk to my mate, Matty O’Sullivan. He’s got a trailer and can dump rubbish for you. And it sounds like you need Moira Inchboard as well. She’ll help you sort things out.’

  ‘Thanks, Ben. Does she clean? That’s just what I need. I guess it was lucky I bumped into you,’ she said.

  Once through the checkout, Nina and Ben headed outside through the sliding doors when an older man wearing a ‘Manager’ badge called after them. ‘Hey, Ben, tell your brother that I’ve ordered the Tasmanian smoked salmon for the do up at Paramour. It’s arriving next Wednesday if he wants to call in after that.’

  ‘Thanks, Dave, I’ll let him know. Hold on a sec,’ said Ben, shading his eyes as he looked across the road. ‘You can tell him yourself if you like. He’s just over there, near the newsagents, gasbagging again.’

  Nina turned to see Heath, who was deep in conversation with an older couple on the other side of the street. Even though she was across the road, she could see that the tall, slim woman was impeccably dressed, cropped silver hair set off by a light, rose-coloured scarf. Her arm rested on Heath’s as they chatted. He looked relaxed, happy. The older man was well-dressed too and almost as tall as Heath. They must be his parents. What were their names again?

  ‘Ta, Ben,’ the manager replied. ‘Wouldn’t mind a chat.’ He winked at Nina then headed across the road.

  ‘Hey, you wanna come over as well and meet Aunty Kathryn and Uncle Mac?’ asked Ben, gesturing with one hand as he manoeuvred his wheelchair with the other, his grocery bags perched on his lap. ‘They’re not in town that often but they had to get a pump hose or something. Our great aunt and uncle. You remember them?’

  Aunt and uncle? Nina wasn’t sure.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve met them,’ said Nina. ‘Er, look I won’t, Ben. I mean, thanks, but I have to get back. I have to, um … I have so much to do.’ Nina felt her face colour.

  ‘Yeah?’ asked Ben. ‘No wozzas. Another time. I’ll walk you to the car park – well I’ll do my best anyway,’ he smiled.

  They headed around the side of the supermarket, out of sight of Heath and his relatives.

  ‘Hold on, Princess,’ Ben said, reaching up to scratch the border collie in the back of the ute.

  ‘Oh, she’s yours?’ asked Nina. ‘She’s gorgeous. Mine’s in the car.’ She motioned to Bach, who was barking excitedly in the front seat.

  ‘Ha! Jeez, the cows will be nervous with that brute in town,’ Ben laughed. ‘Well, I’d better head out. Hope that bloody brother of mine got The Land before he started yacking or I’ll be here all day.’

  ‘The land?’

  ‘The Land newspaper. I read it on the net, but Heath’s old-fashioned.’

  ‘Speaking of which, Ben, is there an internet café in town? There’s no coverage at my place and I have to keep in touch with work. A condition of my parole,’ Nina said, rolling her eyes.

  ‘There’s the library, but come over to ours. The coffee’s better.’

  ‘Really? Heath won’t mind?’

  ‘Mind? Why would he mind? Come anytime. Gotcha phone? I’ll give you our number.’

  Nina handed it to him. ‘Thanks, Ben. But you won’t be able to get through to me at The Springs.’

  ‘Have to do the pop-in then.’

  ‘Thanks again.’

  ‘De nada, mate. It’s great to have you back after so long.’

  She found the keys and as she opened the door, she saw Ben hoist himself from his wheelchair into the ute’s driver seat. He pushed a lever and a mechanical arm lifted his collapsed chair on to a roof rack.

  ‘Pretty nifty, eh?’ he said, smiling at her.

  Nina blushed. Of course he could drive, she just hadn’t thought about it.

  ‘See you, Ben,’ she said, conscious that Heath could appear at any moment.

  It was dumb, she knew. A stupid fantasy that had nothing to do with real life, but she couldn’t
look him in the eye, not today. She felt like she was 12 years old.

  She was lucky to meet Ben. She needed a friend out here. She remembered him as a cheeky little kid, always running ahead and jumping out to surprise her and Heath. He’d been the best at playing evil masterminds too, stroking an imaginary cat and laughing mwah-ha-ha. What had happened to put him in that chair?

  ‘Just got to check my phone while I’m in town,’ she called to Ben as she got into her car and started the air-conditioning. She’d make it fast.

  The first message was from Olivia. Call now or will assume u eaten by cannibals/emus :)

  Next was Theo. Miss you. Please come back soon. Love, theo. Love? It was the first time he’d used the word. Usually it was ‘cheers’ or ‘tx’. Maybe absence did make the heart grow fonder. Nina messaged back Xx call soon.

  Next, Olivia again. Waiting in line for Necks gig tickets. U shld be here :(

  Nina smiled, thinking of Olivia dressed in her party tutu and Doc Martens, dominating the dance floor with her thrashing arms. The two of them had been doing a lot of clubbing lately, letting off steam, probably drinking too much. Staying out here for a while and getting some air and exercise might be a good thing.

  But Olivia would be missing her as much as she missed Olivia. She’d better call while she had the chance, but she watched the corner of the building where Heath would appear.

  ‘What happened to the daily texts, babe? Wombat got your tongue?’ was Olivia’s greeting.

  ‘Piss off, Liv, there’s no reception out here in the boonies.’