Eileen saw Hayley checking out the ornaments and said. “My dad was Chinese. He passed last year. It’s funny, I never liked any of this crap when he was alive, but when I was clearing out his stuff with my sister, I found I couldn’t let any of it go. It’s a mystic knot. A good luck charm.”
Hayley smiled, understanding how absence made the heart sentimental. It reminded her of how much she longed to go home but how when she was at home she couldn’t wait to get away. There were times when she dialled home from her mobile and let her thumb hover over the call button, daring herself to press it. But then she thought of everything that had happened between her and her parents and the way she’d run off with David, and she couldn’t do it.
“So why are you heading to Katherine with no money instead of going home to your families who probably miss you?” Eileen tapped the side of her steering wheel with her index finger and sighed heavily, as though exasperated with the girls.
“No home to go to,” Gemma said. “No family.”
Hayley turned to her friend in interest. She knew Gemma had a story, but she hadn’t opened up yet. She felt a pang of guilt about her own situation.
“I need the money,” Hayley said. “And there’s a farm hiring up there. And I’ve always wanted to see Kakadu.”
“What’s this farm thing?” Eileen asked.
“A fruit farm,” Gemma replied. “Mangoes, mostly.”
“Well, I’m sure you don’t need an old fart telling you to be careful, but I’m going to say it anyway, because someone needs to.”
Hayley bit her lip and tried to stop her eyes from watering. She was tired, sore, and worn down from the last few days. Part of her wanted to snuggle into Eileen’s bosom like a child and stay there. But Eileen was not her mother, and Hayley needed to grow up. This was the path she had chosen, and if she was going to survive it, she needed to be an adult. She had chosen to escape, to travel, to find who she really was, and it was experiences like backpacking through the Australian outback that would reveal her true character.
She pulled herself together, ate a banana, and drank a bottle of water. Then she settled into her seat, calmed by the thought that Eileen wasn’t going to hurt them, and watched the arid landscape whoosh by through the truck window. An hour into their journey, Eileen cranked up the classic rock station and the three of them sang along to Bon Jovi and Journey, and every other cheesy classic that her friend Alice’s dad used to listen to. Not her dad, though, because he preferred Bach to Bon Jovi and Puccini to Pink Floyd.
Hayley wasn’t ready for the hotel outside Port Augusta. Part of her wanted to stay in that truck cab where she knew it was safe. She glanced at Gemma, whose expression was tense, her skin pulled tight, her lips turning white. They were both worrying about what they were going to do next. Camp out somewhere? With no tent? Hayley imagined waking up to find a snake on her chest, its jaws wide open and dripping with venom.
But then Eileen climbed out of the cab. “Come on, girls.”
“What’s going on?” Gemma asked.
For the first time, Hayley was concerned about Eileen’s motives. Did the woman expect something in return for the lift? Her stomach rolled over with hungriness and worry. Was Eileen going to stay with them in the hotel?
“Well, you two obviously can’t afford a room, and I’m not leaving you out here in the dark. I’ll check you in on my card, and you get a bed and a place to clean up. I’d take you all the way to Katherine if I could, but I’d lose my job and I need it. Actually, I’d take you girls home, but I know you wouldn’t want to go there, and I’m not about to force you.”
“Eileen, that’s…” Gemma hugged the trucker, and Hayley joined in.
“It’s bad luck to make an old woman cry,” Eileen said. “Now come on. Let’s go spend my money.”
They had a room, a small room, but nevertheless it was a room for them to freshen up. It was safe, warm, and relatively clean. They also had $200 in cash that Eileen gave to them before they left the carpark. They both decided to save most of the money and ate a meal of vending machine treats before making the most of the free breakfast. Then they took turns to shower, got into bed, and passed out.
Hayley woke up to see that Gemma’s bed was empty, and for a moment she panicked, until she saw that Gemma had left her bag behind. She’d probably just gone for breakfast without her.
After coming out of the shower, Hayley realised that she was right. Gemma burst in carrying pastries in napkins, which she emptied out onto her bed.
“I’m guessing you like croissants, because, you know, who doesn’t?”
Hayley grabbed a pastry and pulled it apart with her fingers. “Thanks.”
“Good news,” Gemma said, with wide eyes. “I’ve got us another lift. There’s a bloke heading out towards Alice Springs. It’s a long drive, but he needs to get there soon as apparently. Bet he won’t even stop to sleep. We’re just a couple of days away now.”
“Sounds good,” Hayley replied, wondering when the hitching would end. The good night’s sleep hadn’t eradicated her weariness, but they’d bought sunscreen from the small kiosk in the lobby of the motel, a couple of baseball caps, and bottles of water. “You didn’t find another female trucker, did you?”
Gemma laughed. “I think Eileen was a one-off. But this guy seems nice. He was chatty, normal. I dunno, I guess it’s hard to tell if someone is a rapist from a five-minute conversation.” She let out a hollow laugh.
“What did you do? Hover around the breakfast buffet waiting to chat to truckers?”
“Pretty much,” Gemma said. “Worked though.”
Hayley couldn’t argue with that.
The guy was called Bob. He was older than Eileen, covered in white hair from his bushy beard to the wiry little hairs that poked out of his nose. His cab was dusty, and there were photographs of his family on the dashboard, which made Hayley feel a little better. They travelled quietly, snacking on the pastries from the breakfast buffet, staring out of the windows, watching the scenery flash by. After twelve hours of naps, polite conversation, and a few toilet breaks, Bob dropped them off on the road in Alice Springs in the dark.
Hayley squinted to see if there was anything around them, but all she could see was tarmac and dust. They set off walking again, sticking out thumbs every time a truck flew past, but no one stopped. Eventually, as the night crept in ever darker, and they hadn’t eaten for hours, Gemma suggested they get off the highway and find a place to stay the night.
This time it was a hostel, and they had to share a room with a group of blond Swedish guys around their own age. They’d split the money up between them, and Hayley clung to her bag all night as she tried to sleep with the sight of a size-eleven foot dangling from the upper bunk. They seemed like nice enough lads, but Hayley barely slept, worrying about their safety all night. There were times, deep in the early hours of the morning, when all she could think about were the strangers around her.
Gemma lined up another lift at breakfast by finding a diner frequented by truckers. Hayley scarfed down bacon and eggs as Gemma worked her charms on the truckers. This time, she found a young man heading into Kakadu who was particularly enamoured with Gemma’s bright smile. Hayley just hoped that Tim, their new driver, was honourable despite clearly fancying Gemma big-time.
And then she wondered why she was so suspicious? Had her experience with her ex-boyfriend completely erased her trust in others? Gemma didn’t seem nearly as apprehensive about getting into the vehicle of a stranger. She chatted happily to Tim about nightclubs in Sydney as they got into the cab. And, as Hayley sat sullenly staring out of the window, Tim told Gemma all about the countries he’d visited before he had to get a job.
“That’s why I’m doing this,” he said with a laugh. “I spent all my cash.”
“Same,” Gemma replied. “That’s why I’m hitching.”
It was obvious to Hayley that this life suited Gemma, but it didn’t suit her. She wasn’t the same free spirit that Gemma wa
s, and she wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake in agreeing to travel from one end of Australia to the other without money. And the farm probably wasn’t the least bit like it said it was in that leaflet. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes, and tried not to cry.
Tim didn’t just drop them off in Deep Springs—he stopped and asked locals for directions and drove them to the gates of the farm, going a few minutes out of his way to help them. There was more vegetation here, with palm trees and dry grass, but the roads were still just as dusty, and the sun continued to beat down. Gemma took his mobile number at the end of the journey and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Hayley even shook his hand, marvelling at the good fortune they’d found on their way here.
As she pulled her rucksack onto her shoulder, she took in the long drive that wound through the mango fields, with the last of the late evening sun reflecting on the brilliant yellow of the fruit on the trees. It was a beautiful sight, and a welcome one after the journey they’d had.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” Hayley whispered. “Can you?”
Gemma hooked an arm in hers. “Nope.”
“They all helped us,” Hayley said. “Every last one of them helped us to get us here.”
“You know, babe, the world isn’t actually out to get you,” Gemma said with a laugh. “I know you think it is. You underestimate people. There are some good folk out there.”
“I guess I do.” Hayley took a step towards the farm and felt convinced that her bad luck was about to change.
15
Gemma
The first thing she noticed about the farm was the music. That was what always struck Gemma first about a place: the sound. A Lady Gaga song blazed from loudspeakers. Green trees were studded with golden mangoes, and throngs of young people buzzed about. The scene was saturated with the pink-red blush of the coming sunset.
It occurred to Gemma that maybe they kept the music pumped up loud to mask the fact that there was nothing but empty space in every visible direction around the farm. It was so… isolated.
Hayley didn’t seem worried. She’d looked distinctly tense for the entire journey, but she was smiling now.
People stopped and gave them friendly waves at they entered, pointing for them to keep heading along the gravel road. A house—a mansion—stood in the distance, the sun sparking off the enormous expanses of glass that made up the entire front of it. The mansion seemed completely out of place here. A low-set farmhouse with a wide, generous porch would have fitted in a lot better.
A thin girl came running up to them, her thick waves of brown hair making her face small and almost childlike. At first, Gemma thought she was about sixteen, but when she spoke, she sounded a few years older than that. “Are you Gemma and Hayley?”
“That’s us.” Gemma raised a hand in greeting, unable to place the girl’s accent.
“Tate sent me to greet you—Tate Llewellyn, the owner of this farm.” She nodded firmly, dark eyes large and serious. A set of keys hung from a belt on her hip. “I’m sure you’ll like it here. We’re all a family, and…” She trailed off, as if distracted, then blinked. “Welcome, our home is your home. Bem-vindo à nossa casa.”
“That’s Spanish, right?” Hayley smiled. “I’ve been to Spain with my parents a couple of times.”
“Portuguese,” answered the girl. “I'm from Portugal—right next to Spain. My name's Ellie. Short for Eleonora. I’ll be your guide while you’re here. You can come to me at any time with questions or suggestions you may have.”
She greeted each of the girls with a quick, rigid hug, almost as an afterthought. As soon as the hugs were done, she dug her hands deep into the pockets of her shorts—like she didn’t know quite what to do with them. “Tate told me you travelled all the way from Sydney. I’m so happy you made it here to us okay.”
It didn’t seem to Gemma that she was actually happy that they’d made it to the farm or happy in general.
“As you can see,” Ellie continued, “we have the mango fields to the far left and right. We also grow pineapples and chocolate pudding fruit. In the greenhouses”—she pointed to a set of low buildings—”we grow many vegetables and varieties of mushrooms to feed the workers. We have chickens here for fresh eggs every day. To your immediate right, you’ll see the accommodation. It can get quite hot sleeping at night, but just be sure to keep your windows open and check carefully that your insect screens have no holes in them.”
“Sounds great.” Hayley glanced at Gemma, a look of relief on her face. “Right? I think we struck gold. Once I get used to the hot nights, that is.”
“Yeah. Looks good enough.” Gemma cast a long look at Ellie. Who was this tiny, nervous girl that the farm’s owner had instilled such trust in? And why hadn’t he come to greet them himself?
Ellie seemed to shrink from Gemma’s gaze. “I’m sure you’ll both enjoy your stay here. There’s just one restricted area. And that’s the orchid glasshouse. You may only visit there if personally invited or instructed by Tate himself.”
“What’s so special about the orchids?” Hayley eyed Ellie with bemused interest.
“Tate likes his orchid glasshouse kept sterile,” said Ellie stiffly. “He grows his own collection there. Perfume is distilled from the flowers. It’s all experimental at this stage, and it hasn’t been taken to market. Basically, it’s no more than a hobby. But the equipment is all very expensive and quite fragile, and also Tate naturally doesn’t want any contamination in the flower essence. So, I’m sure you can understand why that greenhouse is not part of the general operation of the farm.”
“Got it.” Hayley looked bored by the answer, glancing across at a group of shirtless guys who were hoeing at a patch of dirt, the sweat dripping from their brows caught by bright bandannas. She sharply turned away, her face flushed bright red.
“Well, you both look a little… dusty,” said Ellie. “How about I send you off to the showers and then bring you to the food hall for dinner? We have dinner early here at the farm. The workers are always famished by this time of day.”
“I’ll show the girls to the showers, if ya like,” boomed a voice behind them.
Gemma spun around.
A rangy-looking guy in a tie-dyed shirt and blond hair in a ponytail grinned widely at her, a hoe in his fist. “I’m Clay. I’m at the end of my shift, so I can give you girls a tour. Showers included.”
Gemma returned his smile. His accent was broad with a slight drawl—American. She couldn’t help but wish that he’d been chosen by Tate to be their guide instead.
“Now, Clay,” Ellie admonished, “you know that’s not true. It’s not tools down for another half hour. I’ll take the girls to the shower block.”
Clay gave a lazy shrug. “See ya at dinner. Wait, what are your names?”
“They’re Hayley and Gemma,” Ellie answered before either of the girls could. “Okay, let’s go.”
Alongside Hayley, Gemma followed Ellie along the dirt road, past a well and a scattering of outbuildings. She walked at such a quick stride she was soon way ahead of them.
“She’s so serious,” Hayley whispered. “We’ll have to ditch her if we want to have any fun here.”
Gemma screwed up her face. “I don’t like her.” She looked quickly back over her shoulder to where Clay had been standing, but he was gone.
Ellie guided them to a long concrete block. Stands of bamboo and banana plants draped their fronds low over the ceilingless shower cubicles. The entire shower block was completely open to the sky, even the toilets.
Hayley gazed at the showers in horror. “They’re not very private.”
“You’ll get used to them,” Ellie told her. “Just limit your nighttime showers, when the bats and flying foxes are out. They come hunting fruit and insects and might drop down on you by mistake. They carry viruses, and you don’t want to get scratched by one of them.”
Hayley shivered, crossing her arms over her chest. “Has that happened to anyone here?”
> Ellie shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. They’re pretty easy to avoid. Also, you don’t want to roam about anywhere at night because you never know when you might come across a spider or a snake in the plantations. The mouse spider is a pretty scary looking character, and the males are about at the moment looking for mates.”
“Funny, none of this was mentioned in the job description,” Gemma joked to Hayley under her breath.
If Ellie heard, she didn’t react. Unlocking a cupboard inside the shower block, she took out two large towels. “Do either of you have phones with you?”
“I have mine, but Gemma lost hers back in Sydney,” Hayley said.
“Oh,” said Ellie, directing her gaze to Gemma. “Are you sure? It’s just that we keep them in the big basket in the hall. Tate prefers it that way. Phones get in the way of peace and cohesion at the farm. People are welcome to call home, though, once a month after the meditation on Mondays. But people rarely seem to want to call home, once they’re here. Shows how much of a family we are.” Her voice stretched thin on her last words.
Then she reached her hand out towards Hayley, prompting Hayley to start rifling through her bag in a panic.
“You can frisk me if you think I’m smuggling my phone in,” quipped Gemma.
A weird, embarrassed bark of a laugh burst from Ellie's throat. “I'll believe you.” She took Hayley’s phone before handing them the towels. “Here you go. I’ll wait while you shower.” She locked the cupboard again and returned the keys to a hook on her belt.
Gemma and Hayley exchanged glances while they chose their cubicles. It seemed like a scene from a prison. The shower cubicles didn’t even have doors or curtains for privacy.
Poison Orchids: A darkly compelling psychological thriller Page 10
