Ocean Child

by Tamara McKinley

‘Such a shame about his face,’ said Dolly. ‘Reilly must have been terribly handsome once.’

  ‘Shut up, Dolly, he’ll hear you. And don’t call him Reilly. Things are far less formal here and he’ll take it as an insult.’

  ‘Well, excuse me,’ muttered Dolly petulantly. ‘I didn’t realise the men around here were so sensitive.’

  ‘They aren’t,’ Lulu said on a sigh. ‘They just have different ways, that’s all.’ She patted Dolly’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon get the hang of it.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Dolly sniffed. ‘How is one expected to simply know these things when they all look as if they’ve come straight off the farm?’ She waved an imperious hand towards the people on the quay.

  ‘Dolly,’ Lulu snapped, ‘keep your voice down, for goodness sake!’ She steered her out of earshot of the clearly curious crowd. ‘The class system doesn’t work the same over here,’ she said flatly, ‘and if you make remarks like that you’ll cause offence.’

  Dolly’s eyes widened. ‘I only …’

  Lulu took her hand, regretting her spike of temper. ‘I know it’s hard, but you’ll soon catch on if you just keep quiet and watch how it’s done,’ she advised kindly. ‘I had to learn the same lesson when I went to England, and if I can do it, so can you.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Dolly said reluctantly, ‘but it all seems frightfully disorganised.’ She went off to count her pieces of luggage and confirm it was all there, and undamaged.

  Lulu took the opportunity to study Joe as he began to load the flatbed of the truck. The scars were cruel, but she had seen worse, and they didn’t really detract from his dark brown eyes, straight nose and strong chin. His long legs were encased in moleskin trousers, the check shirt open just enough to give a glimpse of a muscled chest. Flat leather boots and the ubiquitous broad-brimmed hat completed the outfit. He was about thirty, she guessed, with the wiry strength and tanned skin of a man used to physical labour in all weathers.

  As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned his head and their eyes met. His gaze was steady, almost challenging, before he dipped his chin and continued loading Dolly’s luggage.

  Dolly giggled and nudged her arm. ‘I rather think he’s taken a bit of a shine to you, Lulu, and I have to say he’s a vast improvement on the chaps in London.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Lulu snapped, stung that Dolly should have voiced her own thoughts. ‘For goodness sake, Dolly, does every man we meet have to be ogled?’ She didn’t wait for an answer and headed for the utility. He was certainly handsome, and very masculine – a far cry from the chinless wonders of London’s elite – but she would never admit it, especially not to Dolly.

  Joe was holding the utility door open, clearly impatient to leave, but as they approached he seemed distracted, his gaze constantly flitting towards the far side of the quay.

  Lulu glanced over her shoulder, curious as to what had caught his eye.

  The utility truck seemed to come from nowhere. It roared towards her at great speed, the tyres screeching against the tarmac.

  ‘Look out!’

  Lulu dodged out of the way moments before the utility swerved violently off course, the tyres kicking up a hail of dust and gravel as the truck fish-tailed and fought for purchase, the metal bumper coming within inches of Lulu’s legs.

  She cowered in the lee of a sturdy cattle truck, blinded by the dust, heart racing, too terrified to even scream as with a final squeal of rubber the utility shot out of the dockyard and, with an angry blast from the horn, was gone.

  ‘Strewth,’ muttered Joe, as he raced to her side. ‘Are you all right? Did she catch you? Are you hurt?’

  Lulu blinked away her tears and looked up at him through the slowly disintegrating cloud of dust. ‘I … I …’

  ‘What is it? Where are you hurt?’ His powerful arm encircled her waist with unexpected gentleness.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she managed. ‘It didn’t touch me, but the dust … it’s making it hard for me to breathe.’ She reached for her handbag, which she’d dropped in her panic, and quickly found her pills.

  A mutter went through the crowd of onlookers as she rather shakily sat on the truck’s running board.

  ‘Show’s over,’ Joe shouted. ‘Stand back and give her some air.’

  She heard Dolly’s imperious voice before she saw her, and Lulu could see the policeman she was dragging behind her as she shoved her way through the crowd. ‘I don’t want a fuss,’ she said urgently to Joe. ‘Just get me out of here.’

  ‘But she deliberately tried to run you over,’ he protested. ‘Your friend’s right. The police have to get involved.’

  Lulu stared at him, the chill of foreboding prickling her skin. ‘You saw who it was?’

  He nodded and looked at the crowd, who obviously had no intention of leaving. ‘We all did, isn’t that right?’

  There was a murmur of assent, and one or two voices were raised in condemnation. ‘It’s time that mad woman was locked up,’ shouted one. ‘Yeah, too right. She’s a bloody menace,’ shouted another.

  Lulu was only vaguely aware of Dolly and the policeman standing beside her as she stared in horror at Joe. ‘It was her, wasn’t it? Gwen?’

  Clearly embarrassed, he nodded.

  The policeman opened his notebook and licked his pencil. ‘I’ll need a statement from everyone who witnessed this,’ he boomed, enjoying his moment. He turned to Lorelei. ‘If you’re feeling well enough, miss, I’ll begin with you.’

  Lulu backed away. ‘I won’t be pressing charges,’ she muttered.

  ‘You can’t mean that!’ Dolly took her hand. ‘She tried to kill you, Lulu. We all saw it.’

  Another mutter of affirmation ran through the crowd as it edged nearer.

  Lulu shook her head, her thoughts clearing as her breathing eased. ‘Clarice said she was dangerous, but I didn’t think she meant in that way. Maybe she was just trying to scare me,’ she said, shaking the dust from her hair, ‘and I must say, she succeeded. But there’s no real harm done.’

  ‘We should never have come,’ said Dolly. ‘Who’s to say she won’t try something again?’

  ‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ insisted Lulu, with rather more aplomb than she felt. ‘If she tries again, I’ll be ready for her.’ She turned to Joe, who was frowning in consternation. ‘I’m tougher than I look, Joe, but I’d appreciate it if you could get us away from this audience.’

  ‘Come on then. I’ll take you home.’

  Lulu shuffled along the worn leather seat so Dolly could join her. The effect of the morning’s events began to take their toll, and although her pills should have calmed her racing heart, it still beat erratically and she felt shaky and chilled. Leaning back against the cracked leather, she closed her eyes and willed her pulse to steady as Joe cranked up the starting motor, climbed in and slammed the door.

  The utility smelled of horses, hay and manure, with an overriding aroma of damp dog. It reminded her of the old Labrador and the livery stables she’d left behind, and was strangely comforting. She opened her eyes, saw Dolly’s nose wrinkle in distaste and prayed she would say nothing. There had been enough conflict for one day.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor before we leave?’

  She looked into his concerned eyes and smiled. ‘Let’s just get home.’

  ‘Right then,’ he said, ‘if you’re sure.’ At her nod, he drove away from the quay.

  Wedged between Dolly and Joe, Lulu became all too aware of the muscular thigh that flexed and tightened against her leg every time his foot pressed the clutch. She watched in fascination as muscle and sinew flexed beneath the tanned flesh of his arm as he turned the wheel and changed gear. It was only the interest of a sculptress, of course, but the sight was quite disturbing nevertheless. Joe seemed uncomfortable with the situation as well, she noticed with a modicum of amusement, for he kept trying to avoid contact. But it was a tight squeeze and there was nowhere to go.

  ‘Is it terribly far? Only it
smells as if something has died in here, and I’m feeling a little nauseous after that ghastly confrontation.’ Dolly vigorously wound down the window.

  ‘It’ll take about three-quarters of an hour,’ he replied, his expression unreadable. ‘Sorry about the state of the ute. I meant to clean it out, but I’ve been busy.’

  Dolly sniffed and was about to reply when Lulu nudged her in the ribs and glared her into silence. ‘Have you always been a trainer, Joe?’ she asked, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I suppose you didn’t have much choice really, what with it being a family business.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘My great-aunt remembers your grandfather. Her husband used to have his horses trained by him.’

  ‘I know.’

  Joe Reilly might be handsome, but he certainly lacked the art of conversation. Lulu tried to engage him again. ‘I suppose you’ve kept all the records?’

  He nodded tersely, then seemed to remember his manners. ‘We kept everything from the day Grandpa opened the yard.’ His gaze flitted over her before returning to the road ahead. ‘Your uncle had some good horses – but I don’t reckon any of them could touch Ocean Child.’

  ‘What’s he like?’ she asked eagerly. ‘I can’t wait to see him.’

  He frowned. ‘He’s a little ripper,’ he said, ‘but you should know that. You bought him.’

  Lulu shook her head. ‘All the paperwork seems to confirm that, but I swear I had nothing to do with buying him.’

  ‘But Carmichael definitely said he’d bought the colt on your instructions.’

  ‘Then he’s lying,’ she said firmly, ‘because I’d never heard of Carmichael before you wrote me that letter.’

  Joe took the bend a little too sharply and she was thrust against him. He muttered an apology and shifted down a gear to tackle the rough country road at a slower pace. ‘So Carmichael bought the Child and just gave him to you out of the blue?’

  ‘He definitely bought the colt – the documents prove it – but was it his gift – or from someone who wants to remain anonymous?’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Have you ever met Mr Carmichael?’

  ‘No,’ he muttered. ‘The man’s as difficult to pin down as fog.’

  ‘I thought he might be,’ said Lulu, ‘which is why I’m here. We have a mystery on our hands, Joe, and I reckon that between us we can solve it.’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re right,’ Joe mumbled with little conviction. He drove the utility through the open five-bar gate and into the yard where they were greeted by the two collies. ‘Welcome to Galway House,’ he said, and switched off the engine.

  Lulu assessed the homestead as he helped her down from the truck. It was a graceful brick house, probably built at the end of the last century, and shaded by mature trees. Verandas smothered in honeysuckle and roses gave access to both floors. Comfortable chairs beckoned from their depths, and there was smoke drifting from the chimney. It looked homely and welcoming, and the prospect of a soft bed and cool shade was enticing.

  As she made a fuss of the collies she realised they were being watched. The stable hands were lounging about the yard, wide-eyed with curiosity, and she caught a glimpse of a girl’s face at one of the back windows.

  ‘That’s Dianne in there. She helps out,’ said Joe. ‘And don’t mind the men,’ he added with a slow smile. ‘They might look rough, but they’re harmless.’

  Lulu’s grin and Dolly’s wave were rewarded with shy smiles and tipped hat brims before the stable hands seemed to melt away in the deep shadows of the yard, Lulu turned her attention to the horses that poked their heads out of the many stalls. ‘Which one’s Ocean Child?’

  ‘He’s over there in the spelling paddock.’ He eyed Dolly’s shoes. ‘You might want to change them,’ he said sagely. ‘The cobbles could turn your ankle.’

  ‘How sweet of you, but I’ve walked the length and breadth of Bond Street and Mayfair in high heels and these ankles are not for turning.’

  Joe raised a wry eyebrow as she tottered off, and Lulu bit down on a smile. Joe would learn soon enough that no one could separate Dolly from her favourite shoes.

  She joined her at the railings. The grass was high and lush, the paddock shaded by trees and verdant hills. Bellbirds were chiming, and a kookaburra chortled into raucous laughter. The scene was quintessentially Tasmanian – all she had hoped for and more – and Lulu fell deeply in love with it.

  Ocean Child lifted his head from the grass and regarded them for a moment before deigning to approach. His coat gleamed copper in the morning sunlight, the beautifully forming muscles working smoothly beneath the flesh. There was a neat diamond blaze on his forehead, and his tail swished at the worrisome flies.

  ‘Oh, Dolly,’ she sighed, the tears brimming, ‘he’s so lovely.’ She held out her hand and smiled as the velvet nose foraged in her palm.

  ‘He’s looking for an apple,’ said Joe, ‘but it’s too early in the day. Perhaps later.’

  Lulu ran her hand down the slender neck and tangled her fingers in the mane. ‘He’s going to be magnificent when he’s fully matured. I can already see how well he’s muscling up.’ She swept back her hair and glanced over her shoulder at Joe. ‘Is he a sprinter or a steeplechaser?’

  ‘He’s got a fair speed on him, but he likes the challenge of the sticks. He’s done well in the few races he’s entered, and it’ll be interesting to see how he gets on at the end of the month.’

  Her eyes widened in delight. ‘He’s racing this month?’

  Joe nodded and began to explain about the class of the race and the course where it was being held when Dolly interrupted. ‘This is all frightfully interesting, darlings, but I need to have a bath and lie down. I’m absolutely shattered.’ She turned towards the homestead. ‘I take it we’re staying there?’

  Joe cleared his throat, his face reddening. ‘We thought you’d prefer to be away from the yard,’ he said, his gaze firmly fixed on a distant point. ‘You won’t get so many flies, or be disturbed by the jackaroos mucking out at first light.’ He fell silent, clearly uncomfortable. ‘Your accommodation is a little more basic than the homestead, but you’ll find everything you need.’

  ‘Basic?’ Dolly’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘How basic?’

  ‘Perhaps basic was the wrong word,’ he said hastily. ‘It’s more of a log cabin, really.’ His gaze slid to his boots. ‘You might find it a little cramped though. We weren’t expecting two of you,’ he finished lamely.

  ‘It sounds intriguing,’ said Lulu, shooting Dolly a look of warning to keep quiet.

  Dolly plastered on a brittle smile. ‘I will reserve judgement until I’ve seen it,’ she said ominously. ‘Where is it exactly?’

  ‘Down there in the bush.’ He pointed towards the heavily timbered valley.

  The smile faltered. ‘There won’t be bears or tigers or anything dangerous down there, will there?’

  Joe shook his head, his solemnity marred by the amusement in his eyes. ‘Just the occasional roo or wallaby. You might hear the Tassy devils shrieking during the night, but although they sound murderous, they won’t come anywhere near you. You’ll be quite safe,’ he assured her.

  Dolly frowned and Joe hurried to describe the fierce little creatures that were native to the island.

  ‘What about snakes?’ Lulu had vivid memories of snakes hiding in the woodpile and in the ivy that surrounded the back door of her childhood home.

  ‘It’s too cold for the snakes yet, but I’ve checked the place out for nests just in case. It’s all clear.’ Joe ushered them back into the utility, cranked the engine and, with the dogs riding pillion on the flatbed, set off across the paddock.

  Lulu could see the pulse beating in his jaw and wondered what was bothering him. He’d said ‘we’ several times, and she had to conclude he was probably married, although there had been no mention of a wife and family. Perhaps they’d had a row – or were newly-weds. Either would expla
in why she and Dolly were being accommodated well away from the homestead.

  She stopped worrying about Joe’s domestic arrangements and enjoyed the scenery. This really was the most beautiful place, with sheltering hills, rolling paddocks and a swiftly moving river running along the deep valley. No wonder Joe had followed the family tradition and stayed here.

  The utility ground to a halt and the silence was broken only by the tick of the cooling engine as she and Dolly regarded their accommodation.

  ‘That,’ said Dolly, ‘is not a log cabin. It’s a … a … shack, a shed … a hovel!’

  ‘It’s not a hovel,’ he retorted.

  ‘You sleep in it then.’

  ‘It’s certainly more basic than I expected,’ said Lulu. She eyed Joe thoughtfully. ‘I think it would be best if we stay in the homestead until you can find us a hotel.’

  ‘There isn’t a hotel for miles,’ he spluttered, ‘and my mother—’

  ‘Your mother isn’t being exiled to a shack in the woods,’ snapped Dolly. ‘I hardly think—’

  ‘Dolly.’ Lulu’s stern tone interrupted her in full flow. ‘Mrs Reilly apparently doesn’t want her house filled with strangers, and it seems we have little choice.’

  ‘What happened to the famous Australian hospitality you’ve been banging on about?’ Dolly folded her arms and glared. ‘This is hardly proving the most welcoming place, is it? First you get almost run down, and then we’re expected to live in a shed. What next – a spell on the chain gang along with all the other undesirables?’

  ‘Now you’re just being silly,’ snapped Lulu.

  ‘If you’d take a minute to have a look inside, you’ll find it’s very comfortable,’ said Joe hastily. ‘Why don’t you give it a go?’

  Lulu heard the almost desperate plea in his voice and relented. His mother must be a complete dragon to force their guests down here. She turned to Dolly. ‘I know you’re not used to such basic conditions, but …’

  ‘You’re right. I’m not.’ Dolly looked mutinous.

  ‘Come on, Dolly.’ Lulu touched her hand. ‘At least have a look at the place before you condemn it.’