The Painted Sky

by Alice Campion

  She felt strangely nervous.

  Heath said nothing but walked towards her. He stood facing her and drew her close. He lifted her chin so she was looking up at him.

  ‘You have some dirt right here,’ he said, his lips brushing her forehead. ‘And here.’ The end of her nose. ‘And of course, here.’ His lips brushed hers.

  He gazed into her eyes. She shivered.

  The air was electric.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ she asked softly. ‘It must have been a shock about Deb. You two were together so long …’

  He shook his head with a smile. ‘In the yard, she told me how she felt about Matty. She said it was like flying. As though the world dropped away and became tiny and the only thing that seemed real was the person beside her. And then, the confusion was gone. I realised that was exactly how I felt about you … feel about you. It’s totally different from Deb and me. It’s –’

  Nina kissed him.

  Heath took her by the hand and led her to her bedroom. It was early afternoon but the house was dim.

  ‘You’re trembling,’ he said.

  The wind howled. They stood by the window facing one another.

  Heath unbuttoned her shirt.

  One button. He kissed her lips lightly.

  Two. Five. Her shirt was on the floor.

  A door slammed somewhere. A light spray of flying grit sprinkled the window.

  Heath bent down and kissed the top of her bra and then unhooked it. Nina sighed as his still-muddied hands cupped her breasts.

  His lips sought hers and they kissed, passionately this time.

  Nina felt Heath fumble with his belt and then in one rapid movement he pulled his soaked t-shirt over his head. She held him tight and then her hands, her mouth, her tongue covered the matted hairs on his broad chest.

  He groaned and undid the fly of her shorts. Then his fingers were on her, stroking, searching.

  She was lifted off her feet, her legs around his waist.

  They kissed again.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.

  Nina didn’t reply but covered him in kisses. His eyelids, his mouth, his throat …

  He carried her to bed and rested her head on the pillow. He kicked off his jeans, then peeled off her shorts.

  And then he lay beside her.

  ‘Let me look at you,’ he whispered. He lifted her hair from her eyes.

  ‘Come here,’ she said.

  Nina pulled him to her and she cried out as his hands, then his lips, explored the length of her body. She gripped his back as his large frame enveloped her, their legs entwined. She wanted nothing else but to lose herself in him as she had done once before. Yet this time there would be no recriminations, no doubts. This time she was on solid ground.

  And then she felt his mouth on her. She was lost in him and his touch. Their bodies rocked together as the wind howled outside. There was no-one else, there was nothing else.

  Nina groaned as Heath cried out.

  Sometimes danger can be right on top of you before you can sense it. Feel it. Smell it. Matty and Deborah knew a storm was brewing as they’d left The Springs. They felt the grit as it burned into their skin and eyes on the way to the car. Now, they could see it, hear the stones pinging on the windscreen.

  ‘It’s a biggie,’ said Matty as they reached the halfway point to Wandalla, on Hilary’s trail. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Never better,’ whispered Deborah.

  CHAPTER 22

  Nina sheltered against Heath’s side, enjoying the feel of his arm around her. This bed was where she’d dreamed of him on her first afternoon at The Springs. Now, inexplicably, that dream had come true. It was like going through the looking glass and finding a reflected world where everything that had seemed hopeless was instead full of hope.

  She snuggled against him, enjoying the solidity of his body. His arm tightened. She looked up, to find him gazing at her.

  ‘Hello, you,’ she smiled.

  Heath smiled back then abruptly tipped her onto her back and tented the bedclothes above them. He blew an enormous raspberry on her belly.

  ‘No, no!’ Nina squealed, aware that both of their bodies and the sheets were covered with a fine layer of dried mud.

  Growling, he grabbed her loosely around the waist and shook her from side to side, like a big dog playing with a chew toy.

  Nina struggled, helpless with laughter, until they both had to lie back and breathe.

  ‘So what’s happening here?’ said Heath, nodding at the painting Nina had propped on the dressing table.

  ‘Oh … nothing. That’s …’ Nina sighed.

  Heath looked at her and raised his eyebrows. ‘Your dad?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m still not happy with the face. Or the expression. Or something. It’s been months. So many times I thought I’d nailed it, but then I’d hear something else about him and it would throw me completely. I thought if I put it there it might come to me.’

  Heath nodded. ‘Yeah. Sometimes when people tell me stories about Mum or Dad, I just go, What the fuck? It’s like everyone has their own version of them, nothing like the parents I knew. Even Ben.’

  Nina smiled, and exhaled. She didn’t have to explain. He knew. She kissed him lightly on the jaw.

  Bangbangbangbangbang. ‘Nina! Heath!’ Bangbangbangbangbang.

  It sounded like someone pounding on the kitchen door. They tumbled out of bed and grabbed for their clothes, but it was too late. Ben’s silhouette rolled past the window.

  ‘Nina!’ Ben called.

  ‘Wait up!’ shouted Nina, as she crouched naked, searching under the bed for her underpants as Heath pulled on his jeans, swearing softly. She grabbed a dress randomly from the cupboard and slid into it, realising as she did so that it was the same rockabilly dress she’d worn when she had first met Heath.

  She raced to the kitchen door and flung it open, but it flew out of her grasp in the wind and banged hard against the wall. Wrestling it closed behind her, she held her hair out of her eyes as Ben wheeled back around the corner.

  ‘God, there you are.’ He sounded exasperated.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘No phone, no radio, you gotta get connected, girl,’ he remonstrated. ‘Graziers alert on the ABC. You gotta put everything away, close the windows. A dust storm coming from out west. It’ll be here in less than half an hour. I have to get back.’

  ‘Oh, is that all?’ She felt herself relax. ‘I thought it was an emergency.’

  Ben rolled his eyes and made a disgusted growl. ‘Is Heath here?’ he demanded.

  ‘Um …’ Nina looked at the ground and flapped her hand at the house and the door banged outward again. Ben wheeled past her with a smirk.

  ‘Bring the chairs and stuff inside,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Nina felt lazy and disoriented after the intensity of her time with Heath, but she headed for the front verandah and picked up a chair. As she was looking around for other loose items, something caught her eye.

  A huge black horse jumped the top paddock fence and galloped along it towards Durham House. Jet. Even from this distance she could see his eyes rolling in his head. He plunged this way and that, rearing up at a tumbleweed blowing past and veering away in another direction. His shrill, insistent whinnying sounded like a scream of anguish.

  Nina dropped the chair and raced inside. Heath was pushing the dresser against the French doors in the sitting room. ‘Heath!’ she yelled.

  One look at Nina’s face and Heath followed her outside, trailed by Ben. Heath and Nina ran across the paddock, the dust scouring their faces and eyes. Leaves, twigs and grasses made the air thick.

  Jet jittered in front of the gate to Durham House, but as they approached he darted away, found a place where the fence was down and disappeared into its ruined garden, as if he’d been doing it all his life.

  They reached the gate, breathless, and wrenched it open.

  ‘Jet!’ Heath called.
‘Jet!’

  The area behind the tumbledown wall was more sheltered than out in the open. They found Jet under the magnolia tree, his eyes still white, his flank shivering and dirty. He snorted, pawing at the ground with his front hoof.

  ‘Jet, mate,’ Heath gentled, keeping eye contact with the horse as he approached. ‘What are you doing here, mate?’ he said conversationally, holding out his hand.

  Jet nuzzled it and Heath stepped closer, rubbing the horse’s neck and talking softly. Nina scanned the long grass, which had flattened in the wind. They needed a rope, something to tie him with. But there was nothing.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘He’ll be okay with me. I’ll walk him back to the stable behind your place and tie him up there.’

  At that moment, the old dinner gong at The Springs clanged furiously and rang on, like an alarm. Ben was trying to warn them. But of what? Was the danger at The Springs, or at Durham House?

  Heath gripped Nina’s hand. ‘You’d better go back to the house, see what’s wrong,’ he said.

  Then, suddenly, Hilary appeared, staggering towards them in high heels. Her eyes blazed as she clutched a sheaf of papers. The dinner gong fell silent.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Heath.

  ‘What on earth –?’ began Nina.

  ‘You!’ Hilary gasped. ‘Stop right there.’ With her wind-blown hair and red eyes, she looked like a witch conjured by the dust storm.

  ‘Heath, you have to go to Paramour right now,’ she continued, seemingly struggling for a normal tone of voice. ‘Deborah needs you. She’s all confused and … you have to talk to her.’

  Hilary shook the papers at Nina, who could do nothing but stare back blankly. ‘These … here … I’ve got the deeds. It’s all as good as mine,’ she said, her voice rising.

  Behind them Jet snorted and tossed his head, disturbed by Hilary’s shrill voice. He was a big animal, unpredictable, and Nina had always been wary of him, but she was wondering whether maybe Hilary was the bigger threat. She held Heath’s hand tightly.

  ‘Keep it down, Hilary. The horse,’ said Heath.

  ‘Hilary, it’s over,’ said Nina, keeping her voice firm and low. ‘I know what you did. I’m not selling. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind. Please go home.’

  Hilary lunged forward and gripped Nina’s upper arm in a claw-like grasp. ‘Not so fast,’ she said.

  ‘Hilary, we have to go back to the house,’ said Heath, using the same calming voice he had used on Jet. His voice seemed to inflame her.

  ‘You’d really desert Deborah for this … slut?’ she yelled hoarsely. Nina felt Hilary’s sharp nails dig deeper into her flesh. ‘You selfish pig! My daughter has done everything for you. And you …’ She focused on Nina again. ‘They’d be married except for you. You bitch!’ She grasped for breath.

  Jet pulled away from Heath’s hand, his eyes rolling.

  ‘I hate you. I hate you.’ Hilary tore at Nina’s arm and the horse reared up. Heath stepped forward and slapped Hilary across the face. She fell silent, her mouth agape.

  ‘You need to shut up right now, Hilary,’ he said, stepping back to reconnect with the maddened horse. ‘I’ve got to get Jet into the stable. Look.’ The western sky was turning orange. A small branch slammed into the fountain, making them jump.

  ‘It’s not safe,’ Nina called above the noise.

  ‘Not until you agree!’ screeched Hilary, taking a step towards Nina and brandishing the papers. At that moment, a tearing, cracking roar erupted above their heads.

  Heath grabbed Nina and tackled her into the leaf litter beside the fountain. A huge magnolia branch slammed into the ground where they’d been standing. From her position on the ground, Nina looked up at the tree. A white wound, like a blaze, showed where the branch had come from.

  Jet reared up, his front legs threshing the air. In front of him, Hilary backed away, her hands held forward in a calming gesture. Nina opened her mouth, but before she could shout a warning, the horse’s hoofs came down, narrowly missing Hilary’s head and forcing her backwards, her skull striking the curved stone lip of the fountain. The papers she’d been holding were sucked up into the storm. Hilary lay on her back, her eyes closed, her head bloody.

  Heath and Nina stared at each other in horror. They scrambled up and crouched beside her. Heath shook her shoulder, and shook it again. ‘Hilary! Wake up! Hilary!’ He opened one of her eyelids, then the other and gave a little nod to himself. Hilary’s hand moved feebly. Nina let out her breath.

  ‘Should we move her?’ Nina said, frantically trying to remember first aid.

  ‘We have to,’ yelled Heath over the screaming wind. ‘She’s had a hell of a knock. I’ll take Jet to your stables and come back and get you.’

  Nina looked up at the magnolia. The whole tree could come down. Heath caught her glance.

  ‘We’ll move her out of here, away from the trees,’ he said.

  Jet stood under the magnolia, still tense and watchful, but calmer.

  Heath took Hilary under the arms and Nina grabbed her ankles, forcing herself to stop trembling. The woman was a dead weight, but at least they could get her through the gate, however slowly and awkwardly. Nina watched as blood soaked into the front of Heath’s jeans and shirt, where Hilary’s head was pressed.

  Their eyes and noses streamed. Debris whipped past, an old paint tin, a plastic fuel barrel. Sooner or later they were going to get hurt. Hilary’s Rover was nearby, the driver’s door hanging open, keys still in the ignition. They laid Hilary on the back seat.

  ‘Wait with her. I won’t be long,’ Heath said, in the lee of the car door. His face was concerned, but he gave Nina a brief squeeze and ran back through the gate.

  Nina watched him go, then slid in beside Hilary. She seemed smaller lying down, deflated inside her clothes. Her face was white, a graze on her cheekbone, her lips parted. She looked dead.

  Nina took Hilary’s chin and moved it sideways to check the wound on her head. The dyed blonde hair made the blood look shockingly bright. Although some had clotted, the wound was still bleeding freely. Nina grabbed a silk scarf from the back window ledge and pressed down hard.

  With a shock, she realised she couldn’t tell if Hilary was breathing or not. She stretched her hand forward and laid three fingers on the side of Hilary’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Hilary’s skin was warm and, amazingly, she could feel a faint throb. But it felt fluttery.

  Heath passed at a fast walk, one arm holding Jet’s neck, his other hand holding his shirt over his mouth and nose. He shot an enquiring glance her way, and Nina tried to smile and nod reassuringly. She watched until they were only silhouettes in the dust.

  Of all the surreal things that had happened today, this was the strangest. She was looking after a woman who’d been so relentlessly awful to her that she’d genuinely become an enemy. Her first and only. Nina had been afraid of her, had even come to hate her, but now those feelings seemed irrelevant. Out here, enemies were a luxury few could afford.

  The door of the Rover opened, letting the wind inside. Heath settled himself in the driver’s seat, his face and neck brown with dust. It struck her that this reddish-brown dust was coming from a long way away, from the desert.

  ‘You okay?’ he said.

  Nina nodded.

  ‘Hilary?’

  ‘She’s breathing,’ Nina said. Why didn’t she wake up? Surely she should be awake by now.

  In a couple of minutes they were at The Springs. Ben waited for them on the verandah. ‘What happened?’

  Nina lifted the blood-soaked scarf to show Hilary’s head.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Ben said. ‘I tried to warn you with the gong.’

  Unconscious, Hilary was difficult to get out of the car and onto Nina’s bed but they managed. Nina kicked her discarded bra out of sight and put an extra pillow under Hilary’s head. What a relief to be out of the scouring sand, the whipping wind.

  ‘Nina, have you got bandages and disinfectant? asked Heath. He be
nt down to listen for Hilary’s breath. ‘She’s okay for now,’ Heath said as Nina came back with the first aid kit. But no flicker of consciousness lit Hilary’s white face.

  Nina shivered. The temperature must have dropped fifteen degrees in the last ten minutes. She reached into the wardrobe for a blanket and laid it over Hilary.

  ‘The storm’s here,’ said Heath. ‘It always gets cold, before.’

  ‘Geez, get a load of you two,’ said Ben.

  Nina looked at Heath. The trickle of blood on his forehead from a small cut on his scalp was the least of it. His chest showed through his torn and filthy shirt, dyed dark brown with Hilary’s blood. She raised her hands to her head and felt a dusty mess tangled with leaves. A downward glance showed her dress torn and bloody.

  ‘What’s happening at Kurrabar?’ Heath asked, pouring water and disinfectant into a bowl.

  ‘Alfie’s across it,’ Ben said.

  On the far side of the house they heard the sound of breaking glass – a window smashing. Sheet iron flapped on the roof, and bangs and crashes were getting louder and more frequent.

  ‘Shit,’ said Ben, and went to investigate.

  ‘Hang onto her.’ Heath rolled Hilary on her side and Nina placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her body steady. He began to swab the wound carefully.

  The noise was increasing and, outside, the light had dimmed to burnt orange. Nina heard Hilary’s breathing, hoarse and rattly. She put her free hand on the older woman’s clammy forehead.

  ‘Hilary!’ she barked, as if she could wake her.

  ‘Deborah?’ Hilary’s eyes opened, but then they rolled back in her head and closed again. ‘Deborah.’

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Nina. ‘Heath?’

  ‘I – I think we’d better get help.’

  ‘Yeah, like that’s an option,’ said Ben from the doorway.

  ‘We’ll have to go to Wandalla, to the hospital,’ said Heath.

  ‘You are kidding, right?’ said Ben, exasperated. ‘Right? You can’t go out in this. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘I could go with him,’ offered Nina.

  ‘For her? What has she ever done but cause everyone misery?’