The Roadhouse

by Kerry McGinnis

  A few people had sent wreaths. I collected the cards after the service, finding one from the Maddisons of Arcadia, another bearing the names of Ben and Sue Damson, and the largest of all, a ring of green ferns and white chrysanthemums from the road camp. Our own offering of yellow roses looked paltry beside it.

  Mum had asked Rae to arrange for refreshments following the burial and these were available in the church hall. ‘Though really,’ she had said ruefully, ‘there’re so few of us you could all have come to the manse.’

  ‘This is fine,’ Mum replied. ‘The sandwiches are very tasty, and the little tarts. Where did you get them?’

  Mike and I left them talking. We were travelling back in the same order as we’d come the moment the wake ended, to the Abbey Downs turn-off anyway, where he would take his leave. His recuperative week at the roadhouse had flown by, though we had done nothing in particular save to rest as our hurts healed and the terror that Belligrin had caused gradually receded. I still occasionally woke with a racing heart from murky dreams of capture and heartbreak, reliving again the awful sound of the shot and Mike’s fall, but picturing him alive and still dossing down in the quarters with old Bob always calmed my fears.

  Finally, the mourners all left and Bob, who had slipped away earlier in the station wagon to do the banking and to collect the small store order that fitted snugly into the back section of the vehicle, returned.

  ‘All set,’ he told us. ‘Yer right to go, Molly?’

  Mum assenting, we made our farewells to Rae and Don, who had waited with us to lock up the hall, then took our leave, Mike and I leading the way in the Toyota as we wound our way through the streets and out onto the Stuart Highway.

  ‘So when do I get to see you again?’ I asked as we powered along the bitumen.

  ‘As soon as I have a day free. Though that probably won’t be before the next benefit night,’ he added ruefully. ‘If I’m away much longer, whoever’s running the camp in my absence will have it for good.’

  ‘It’s not your fault you were shot!’

  ‘It’s not Kevin’s either, love, and he’s got a muster to finish. I’ll phone and let you know as soon as I do. You’ll still be at the Garnet?’

  I inhaled loudly in exasperation. ‘Why does everybody think I’m leaving? First Bob and now you. Of course I’ll be there, you great booby. Where else would I be?’

  ‘Okay, don’t eat me,’ he said mildly. ‘I just thought you may not feel too comfortable going back. You’ve been through a pretty terrible time after all, and with Ute leaving any day …’

  ‘Men!’ I exploded. ‘I can tell you right now, Mr Webb, and you’d better pin it in your hat, that Carver women are made of sterner stuff. If you want a delicate damsel in your life, I’m afraid you’ve come calling at the wrong house.’

  He grinned. ‘Good to know. In that case we’ve something to discuss but we might leave it until we reach the turn-off, hmm?’

  I eyed the strong line of his jaw and the taut tanned skin of his cheek where the little mole sat. ‘What exactly? Why not just tell me now? Maybe it’s going to take a lot of discussion.’

  ‘Perhaps it will, but all in good time,’ he said and thereafter refused to be drawn on the subject.

  My spirits sank as the kilometres sped by. When we reached the turn-off, he would have to leave, and who knew how long before we could meet again? I wished that we had spent a night together, or even a stolen hour of two, but our injuries aside, it had been impossible in town and, anyway, Mike had exhibited a totally unexpected old-fashioned streak on the subject of sex unsanctioned by marriage. ‘It’s not the dark ages, and we’re practically engaged,’ I had protested. ‘Don’t you want to?’

  ‘Of course I do. I can hardly keep my hands off you, Charlie, but there’s Bob. Let’s not wreck things between him and me, love. You’re as good as his daughter and I don’t want him hating my guts for the next ten years, okay?’

  ‘Wimp,’ I had muttered, but that was how matters stood between us still. I hoped, meanly, that he was as frustrated as I felt. At least it made a change from Bryan, though that reflection had done little to still the yearning within me to belong, in all senses, to Mike.

  The sun was almost gone when we reached the spot where the Abbey Downs track speared away from the highway. Mike pulled off the road, let the diesel motor idle down, then switched it off.

  ‘Well, here we are.’ He opened the door and got out to rummage in the load, returning after a moment to slip back behind the wheel.

  I put my hand on his knee. ‘I’ll miss you, Mike. What did you want to discuss? Mum and Bob’ll be here soon, not to mention we’ve had the past week to talk ourselves blue in. So why now?’

  ‘Ah, but I hadn’t seen Len then, and that, my love, was what I was waiting for.’

  He drew a wad of tissue from his pocket and, peeling it apart, revealed a ring: a silver shank set with an oval, amber-coloured stone, surrounded by a ring of smaller brilliants.

  ‘Not diamonds,’ he said apologetically as I gasped. ‘They’re topaz and citrine, sourced and set by Len. He only finished it last week. He came to the funeral to give it to me. You told me we were practically engaged … well, I’d like to make that official, Charlie. So, would you consider wearing my ring?’

  ‘Oh, Mike! It’s beautiful.’ Unaccountably, tears sprang to my eyes. ‘Of course I will.’ I offered my left hand and watched him push the ring the length of my finger. ‘It even fits! How —?’

  ‘Lucky guess, I reckon.’ He kissed me lingeringly, his voice suddenly husky. ‘I do love you, Charlie. I think I fell for you the day we went ruby hunting, remember? And you made that slap-up lunch.’ His voice suddenly regained its teasing note. ‘I said to myself then, “A sheila who can feed a man like this is worth hanging onto.” Ow!’ He rubbed the rib I’d pinched.

  ‘Serves you right. When did you commission Len to make it?’ I moved my hand, watching the stones flash as the light hit them. ‘It’s a lovely ring. He’s really, really talented. Cora showed me hers but I had no idea he could do such delicate work. It must be harder to shape an oval than a circle, wouldn’t you think? And there are all those amazing tiny little settings as well.’

  ‘The old boy knows his stuff,’ Mike agreed. ‘And I asked him to make it after Belligrin snatched you. While we were roaring through the scrub to rescue you, actually.’ His tone sobered at the memory. He rubbed a hand over his face, saying, ‘It was an act of faith. You had to be safe, and in a crazy way it seemed to make a sort of bargain with Fate to go ahead and order it then. I said, “I’m going to marry Charlie. Will you make me a ring to give her?” And he agreed, just like that, while we were tearing through the mulga hitting every bloody rock and gully in the Territory, “Course I will,” he said. “Cora’ll know what’ll suit.” And obviously she did, as you seem pleased enough with it.’

  ‘I love it, Mike. And you too.’ I kissed him. ‘She told me I should wear topaz or amber, you know,’ I added, ‘so she must have remembered.’ I shook my head. ‘You’re amazing! To think of such a thing at such a time. Why weren’t you, I don’t know, making a plan instead?’

  ‘Because, my heart, I’d already made it. I knew I had to have you in my life, so I was going to get you back from that bastard no matter what, and when I did I was going to get my brand on you.’ He picked up my hand and kissed my ring finger. ‘And now I have.’ His eyes went to the driver’s mirror. ‘Dust coming now, so they won’t be long. Talk it over with Molly, love. See what she thinks about an earlyish wedding – end of the season, maybe? Will that suit you? You might think me a bit slow off the mark but I don’t want to wait a day longer than we must. There’re a couple of married men’s cottages at Abbey Downs – the mechanic’s currently got one – so maybe we could get the other? But we’ll sort all that out. Come here.’

  The kiss lasted until the station wagon drew up beside us. ‘You’d better get moving,’ I said regretfully as I got out of the vehicle. ‘You’ll be in the
dark as it is. I love you, Mike.’

  ‘And I you.’ His fingers slid gently over my cheek. He leant to shut the door I’d left open and straightened again, his right hand reaching for the key. ‘Take care, love. Remember, you’re precious to me.’

  ‘And you be careful with your head. Keep it clean.’ My voice wobbled. ‘I’ll miss you, Mike. Bye.’ I stood, blinking furiously, stepping back from the dust as he raised a hand to us all and drove off. When the sound of his engine faded I looked again at my ring, then pulled open the passenger door and climbed into the back seat to acquaint Mum and Bob with my news.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Ute left us the way she had come, via Sid’s mail truck. Eric and the rest of the road camp had moved east up the highway by then to the far side of Kharko, gravelling and rolling a badly cut-up section of road fronting the Arcadia turn-off. Eric didn’t return to the Garnet to see her off.

  ‘For why?’ Ute had said, blue eyes opening wide, as she tossed her backpack onto the load. ‘When I am back he comes to the airport. The greet is more important than the goodbye, yes?’

  ‘If you say so.’ I hugged her. ‘Safe travel, Ute. When do you fly out?’

  ‘Is a Saturday. The bus makes its arrive then in Cairns.’

  ‘Well, I hope everything goes well for you. I can’t wait for the wedding. You’ll be the first bride ever to be married at the old Garnet.’

  ‘Is your turn then, yes?’ She held her hand out and I matched it with my own, both of us momentarily contemplating our rings before she turned to pull open the truck door.

  I nodded, little cheered, for I was missing Mike. After some consideration we’d settled on a weekend in October for our wedding when, according to him, the stations would have finished their stock work. Don Thornton would marry us, Mike’s family had been sent invitations along with the rest of the district, and we’d decided on Darwin for our honeymoon.

  Bob of course, had to find something to grizzle about and picked on the general upheaval and amount of extra work the wedding would entail. ‘Be hot as blazes in October, Molly,’ he grumbled. ‘An’ you’ll already have worn yerself out with that other pair. If they wanna get hitched, let ’em do the job in the Alice. Ain’t one weddin’ enough for you to be handling?’

  ‘After Eric helped to save Charlie’s life?’ Mum asked reproachfully. ‘Besides, Ute has no one in this country but us. Of course she must have her wedding here! I’m surprised at you, Bob. She was a tower of strength when we needed her, and the best worker we’ve ever had. So I mean to see that she has a wonderful day – it’s the very least we can do.’

  ‘Bloody woman mangles the language every time she opens her mouth,’ he grouched, determined to find fault.

  ‘While your German and Polish is so good, isn’t it?’ I said sweetly. ‘I’ve had an idea, Mum. Why doesn’t Bob give Ute away too? She’s got no one else to walk her down the aisle.’

  ‘Hey, hang about there, miss!’ he blurted, his face assuming a hunted look. ‘Have a bit o’ sense, Charlie. For starters we ain’t got a bloody aisle!’

  ‘We could make one though – I’ve pictured it. What if we set up Don’s little altar table in the summerhouse and Eric waited for her there? We could make a pathway between the chairs for you to walk her down from the verandah.’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Mum said warmly. ‘They’d be in the shade for the ceremony there, and we could tie crepe bows on the chairs, and string the coloured lights across the garden.’ She was nodding while Bob scowled ferociously at me. ‘It’ll have to be a late afternoon do, anyway. So will yours, Charlie – we’d have trouble keeping the food and drinks cool otherwise. Not to mention the guests.’

  ‘So it’ll be like a practice run for you, Bob. You can make a speech too – get your hand in for my turn,’ I coaxed.

  ‘I s’ppose yer want me to do tricks as well,’ he snarled. ‘What am I, a performin’ clown?’

  ‘No. But you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a father, and I can’t get married without you,’ I said. ‘Besides, you wouldn’t add to Mum’s stress and workload by leaving it for her to do, would you?’ I was shameless in my demands. ‘It’ll be the happiest day of my life, and Ute will feel that way too. She really, really wants to get married, you know. It’s a small thing to ask and we’ll both always remember that you did it.’

  Mum had a little smile on her face, which, fortunately, Bob didn’t see as he growled and fussed until finally caving in. I kissed his cheek. ‘I just remembered something Mike told me when he rang last night. He’s got a pup for you if you want it. The mechanic at Abbey Downs has a blue heeler bitch. He begged one of the litter for you when he got home from hospital. She pupped the very next day and it seems yours is a male. He’ll be old enough to wean pretty soon. The mother’s a good guard dog, Mike says.’

  ‘Now there’s a bloke with more sense than a chicken. If you’d listen to ’im … He wouldn’t be worryin’ a man to make speeches.’ No two ways about it, my lover’s careful strategy had paid off with Bob.

  ‘He likes you too,’ I said, and was rewarded with another scowl.

  Bob named the pup Jake. When I asked why, he simply shrugged. ‘Good enough name, ain’t it?’ He was a comical-looking little fellow, sporting a thick blue coat with one flyaway ear permanently cocked and an inquisitive nature. He dogged his master’s bootsteps about the place and bade fair to take after his mother’s guard-dog reputation, for the first time he encountered a stranger he backed up, bristling, until his rump encountered Bob’s boot, then snarled, displaying all his baby teeth. I laughed to see it.

  ‘Got yourself a tiger there,’ Rob Wyper observed, slamming his cab door. ‘How’s it going, Bob? Hello, Charlie.’

  ‘Hi Rob. Where’s your crew? Or have you finished the job?’

  ‘Nope, bit of a breakdown, plus we’re short a man with Eric away, sorting out his bride’s residency permit. He’s a changed fellow these days – looks like I’ll be losing him anyway when it’s all settled,’ he said gloomily.

  ‘How’s that, then?’

  ‘He told me he’ll be giving up the road work. Talking about getting back into engineering. The bugger’ll wind up being my boss, see if he doesn’t.’

  ‘I expect he wants something better than camp life for his wife,’ I said. ‘You coming in?’

  ‘Might top up first.’ He had pulled in beside the bowser, so I left the men to it, smiling to hear Jake’s baby growls resume the moment Rob moved his position. Bob would have denied it with his dying breath, but he already loved the pup and was building the same bond with him as he’d had with his predecessor. He was a dog man, Bob, and the creatures knew it and gave him their hearts and loyalty without reserve – seemingly for little reward as he never, publicly anyway, paid them much attention.

  The next event was Ute’s arrival, scarcely twenty-four hours after her return to Australia. Eric accompanied her, along with a suitcase containing their wedding clothes and gifts for Mum, Bob and me. Mum’s was a silk scarf, mine an amber pendant on a silver chain, and Bob’s a box of Swiss chocolate.

  ‘So you have the little bit of Europe here. From Paris, from Hungary and the cows of the Swiss, yes?’ Days of constant travel seemed to have had no effect upon her. Her blue eyes sparkled and her energy seemed undimmed. ‘Eric is gone to his work but I stay and help. I will make the eats so all is ready for Wednesday, when is wedding. This is correct, yes?’ She fluttered her hand. ‘The many days, so quick you know. I lose them.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ I commiserated. ‘After all the travelling you’ve done, I wouldn’t know if I was Arthur or Martha.’

  ‘But I am Ute – oh, is another of your sayings, yes? This I am learning now.’

  ‘It’s nice of you to offer, Ute, but there’s no need for you to cook, we can do it. It’s your wedding, after all,’ Mum began, only to be firmly overruled.

  ‘But no. Already it is settled in the stone. We have brought the foods for the nibblers, whi
ch I prepare. The blinis and the little – how you say?’ She couldn’t find the word and pursed her lips, gesturing with her fingers. ‘Light, like the air kisses, you know, with the curl of salmon, or the special cheese on top.’

  ‘Snacks?’ Mum suggested.

  ‘But yes. Only not the sandwich. And no dead horse – no, not even for Bob.’

  ‘We’ve made the cake,’ Mum said. ‘I hope you’ll like it. It’s only two tiers with plain icing and some decorations that Rae found for us. You’d best come and see.’

  ‘I know already is perfect,’ Ute declared, and repeated the assertion once she saw the cake with its plain white icing banded with silver ribbon and topped with the miniature bride and groom. ‘It is magnifique, Molly! You are great friend to me. I make the picture to send home of Eric and me and this so beautiful cake. You have my very much thanks.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Mum said. ‘Now instead of standing here, why don’t we have a cuppa? Eric, wherever he’s got to, must be parched. And then you should rest for a bit. If you’re not worn out, you ought to be.’

  Settled into her old room, Ute did in fact sleep the rest of Monday afternoon away, while, between chores, I folded white crepe paper into rosettes, which Mum then stitched together. They would be fixed to the chairs intended to line the aisle Bob would create once he’d had finished mowing and watering the lawn. The lattice of the summerhouse where the ceremony was to be held – Mike’s and mine too – shone white with fresh paint. The little table that would serve as Padre Don’s altar just needed flowers, but we could use the wattle, I said. It was blooming everywhere at present.

  ‘That won’t last,’ Mum objected. ‘It never does. There’ll be blossom all over the cloth.’

  ‘I’ll grab some at the last minute. It won’t droop before Don gets them hitched, and then it doesn’t matter. I wonder how many will come?’ Rather than issue invitations, we had simply announced at the last benefit night that the wedding was taking place, but we expected the full road camp and at least a handful of the locals.