‘I’m good, Paddy, thanks,’ she assured him. ‘It was so sad those first few days. They were all so distraught. I’m glad I went to the funeral though, thank you for encouraging me, I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.’
‘It’s a country town, Aimee. It’s not like the city where the people you help you never see again. You live with these people, you meet them out shopping or at functions. They’re your community.’
‘I guess they are. It sure was a big turnout, there must have been a hundred people.’
Lori joined them. ‘Paul was a champion bike rider when he was younger, he was such a popular bloke, eh, and Kerry’s dad used to be a top footballer, captained the Mines footy team,’ she explained. ‘They’re well-known sporting families. Kerry used to win all her races at the athletic carnivals.’
‘I hope some of them will be there for her over these next few months. She looked so fragile when I visited last week. Her mum’s there every day but she looks distressed too. It must feel cruel to have lost your own husband so young and then see your daughter go through the same thing.’
‘Look, you’re going to need to spend more time on this one, Aimee,’ said Patrick, his hand on her shoulder, ‘so I’m not going to allocate you any new cases for the next month. Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Come and see me. Enjoy your cake. I’ve a few calls to make, the director wants a list of potential Aboriginal foster carers—yesterday! It’s a well overdue initiative but it’s going to need a lot of thinking through. We can talk about that tomorrow too. Anyway, I’m off.’
She watched him catch Lori’s eye as he left, a subtle exchange of intimacy. She looked at her friend and grinned.
‘What?’ challenged Lori.
‘Nothing, I said nothing,’ she replied, still grinning.
Lori looked nervously at the others. ‘Shush, Aimee,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want anyone else to know. Not that there is really anything for them to know, well, not really, we …’
‘Yes, yes, Lori. Your secret eet is safe vis me,’ she said, sotto voce.
They started to laugh, heads together.
‘What are you two up to? Come on, share the joke.’ It was Ron.
‘No, Ron, time for you to share a joke,’ Aimee countered. ‘Come on, one for my birthday.’
‘No worries. Did you hear the one about …’
Lori jumped up and started collecting the dirty plates. Aimee watched her, keeping an ear out for Ron’s punchline.
One of the best things about her year in Kalgoorlie was Lori. They were different—Lori was extroverted, she wasn’t. Lori was into spiritual things and making meaning; she preferred to deal with facts, move forward, not dwell on the past. She was reflective, but about the present, and that was where they met—they both liked to analyse daily events and the people they encountered and they both had the same slightly warped humour, the sort where you laugh when you know you shouldn’t. Like the time when Ron tripped over a worn piece of carpet and flung an armful of files through the air, before landing with a thud in front of a packed waiting room. Luckily he was only winded but she and Lori had been in hysterics behind the counter and had to hide below it, desperately trying to regain their composure while others came to his aid.
An outburst of laughter told her she had missed Ron’s punchline and she grinned to cover her inattention. She stood up. ‘Thank you everybody for the birthday surprise. It was exactly what I needed.’ A lump in her throat caught her unawares and her eyes welled. They all noticed and clapped loudly as a distraction. Lori came over and hugged her.
‘Better get back to work,’ someone called. Everyone started streaming out.
‘You okay?’ Lori checked.
‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m going up to my office now to ring Kerry before I head out, in case she’s forgotten I’m coming.’
‘All right, I’ll be here when you come back and we’ll go to the Vienna Coffee Lounge for a cappuccino, eh?’
‘Okay.’
She entered the now empty foyer and climbed the stairs to her office. Gerry would be halfway to Cundeelee by now. She yawned; it had been an early start. Her parents had rung at six o’clock for her birthday. They were taking no chances, they’d said, after having no contact from her on Christmas Day. Despite her discomfort, she took the opportunity to ask her father about the community move. She wanted to know—in whose best interests was this move? If Jan was right, it wasn’t the people at Cundeelee; something big was going on and he would have to know about it. Jan had apologised for her breach of confidentiality and her behaviour the next time they’d met, not that Aimee thought she needed to do either, as she loved Jan’s passion and her sense of justice—and told her so. Nevertheless, she’d needed to respect Jan’s position and was careful what she said to her father. But federal Labor had a platform against uranium mining, so something wasn’t right. He’d responded by saying that he hadn’t rung up to talk work.
She shook her head in annoyance as she reached the top of the stairs. Her phone was ringing when she walked into her office. It was Kerry’s mother, Irene.
‘Miss McCartney, I’m sorry to bother you, but Kerry hasn’t come back and I know you’re comin’ at one o’clock and she said she’d only be an hour but that was three hours ago and I’m worried and I wondered if she’d bin to see you or if you’d heard from her.’
‘No, Mrs Smith, Kerry hasn’t contacted me. Did she say where she was going?’ She could feel her own anxiety rising.
‘She said she wanted some time on her own. You know, we’ve all tried to make sure someone’s bin here every day but this mornin’ she asked me to mind Amber and she said she wouldn’t be long, you know, give her an hour and she’d be right. I shouldn’t have let her go, I knew she wasn’t right.’ Mrs Smith began to cry.
Aimee took a deep breath and tried to quell her own fear. ‘What can I do to help, Mrs Smith?’
‘I dunno, I dunno what to do. Perhaps I should call the police or get my brothers to look for her. Maybe she’s had an accident somewhere, God forbid,’ she said between sobs.
‘They sound like good ideas, Mrs Smith. Maybe wait another half hour—she may have decided to call in here to meet with me on her own while you had Amber. Shall I ring you at one o’clock if she hasn’t arrived?’
‘Yes, please ring me. I’ll call my brothers and talk to them and if she’s not back by one or turned up at your office I’ll ring the police. Thank you, Miss McCartney, I better go, Amber’s comin’ back inside. Bye.’
Aimee put down the phone and stared out the window, wondering what to do next. She was still standing there several minutes later when there was a knock on the open door.
‘What are you still doing here, I thought you’d be gone by now, early bird,’ teased Lori, leaning on the doorframe. Lori’s smile faded when she explained the situation.
‘I’m getting a bad feeling about this, Aimee,’ she said, pulling up a chair. ‘I mean, I’m literally getting a bad feeling, I feel dizzy.’ She slumped into the chair.
‘Are you all right? What’s the matter? Lori, sit up.’ She grabbed her friend by the shoulders and sat her up. Her eyes looked unfocused.
‘I’m okay. Sorry, that was weird.’ Her eyes became clear. ‘Aimee, I just had a picture, in my head. I know it sounds mad, but I did. I think something’s happened to Kerry.’
‘Look, we don’t know that. She may have wanted some time out. I’m worried too but we can’t go off half-cocked. What picture?’
Lori looked uncertain.
‘What picture?’ Aimee persisted.
‘Don’t get upset. It was blood, I could see blood.’
‘Lori, that’s not helpful!’
‘I said, don’t get upset.’
‘I’m not, but what use is that?’
‘Well, this is new to me. It’s not like I planned it. It just came over me. Aggie said it can happen when you’re connected to people.’
‘Well, what would she advise we do now?’ she said, an unwarr
anted hint of sarcasm creeping into her voice. ‘I’m sorry, Lori, that was uncalled for. The truth is I’ve got a bad feeling too.’
‘Why don’t I ring Aggie?’
‘You can’t, it’s confidential.’
‘My vision isn’t. I can tell her about that and see what she thinks.’
‘I don’t want to know. I’m going to sit here for another fifteen minutes and then I’m going to ring Mrs Smith if Kerry hasn’t turned up,’ she said, busying herself with a pile of papers on her desk. She looked over at Lori. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Go make the call.’
Ten minutes later, Lori came running up the stairs and into her office, closing the door behind her.
‘Aggie got a strong smell of sandalwood and said that’s where Kerry is.’
‘You didn’t tell her, did you?’
‘No, I said someone was missing and that I saw blood and could she help.’ Lori looked uncomfortable. ‘She guessed anyway, I just didn’t confirm it.’
‘Did she get anything else?’
‘No, only that her mother would know where the sandalwood was.’
‘Okay, I’m ringing Mrs Smith now. God knows how I’m going to do this. Talk about means and ends, thank you Mr Alinsky, where was this in my Rules for Radicals textbook?’ she said, dialling. ‘Hello, Mrs Smith, it’s Aimee here. No, she’s not here either. Mrs Smith, I was wondering, is there anywhere Kerry likes to go, to think perhaps, a favourite place, somewhere she and Paul used to go, I don’t know, somewhere like that?’
She could hear Mrs Smith relating this to others in the room. A minute later she answered.
‘None of us can think of anywhere. Hammond Park, perhaps, she’d sometimes go there. But I can’t imagine her sittin’ there for three hours and anyways she would have been back by now for your visit. No, somethin’s wrong. My brothers are here and I’ve already rung the police, they’re comin’ out shortly. Hang on, sorry, what’s that Amber? Sorry, darlin’, what?’
Aimee waited, wondering what to say next.
Mrs Smith came back on the line. ‘Amber reckons her mum’s favourite place is where my husband used to take her to collect wood. Along the old sandalwood track.’
Her hand went to her mouth. ‘The old sandalwood track? Is that far?’ she said carefully, glancing over at Lori. Lori was nodding.
‘No, half an hour or so.’
‘Do you think the police might start there? Or your brothers?’
‘Well, it’s possible. I don’t know where to start but I’ll talk it through with the police when they get here. Thank you, Miss McCartney, I’ll keep in touch. I better go.’
‘Okay, Mrs Smith, let me know if you would like me to come over.’
‘No, not right now, perhaps later, thank you. Bye.’
Aimee and Lori stared at each other.
‘I know where the old sandalwood track is.’
‘Lori, we just can’t go off looking!’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know, we just can’t.’
‘Yes, we can.’
‘We better tell Paddy.’
‘No, we can make it our lunch hour. Come on, Aimee. Let’s just go look.’
She did not like making quick decisions. It wasn’t what she did. They needed to think this through.
‘Aimee, come on. What if what I saw is true, what if she’s bleeding somewhere? We can’t tell that to Paddy. Come on.’
‘All right, all right, but we’d better take your car, it’s not official business. But I’ll take the two-way radio.’
They rushed down the stairs, signed out and jumped in Lori’s car. Ten minutes later they were out of town and heading east.
‘What are we going to do if we find her and something’s happened?’
‘Well, if there’s been an accident I’ve got a first-aid kit in the car and if we need more help you’ve got the two-way.’
‘Right.’ For someone so excitable, Lori was calm. Aimee’s own usual calmness was eluding her, her heart pounding with adrenaline.
‘It’s not far, about another twenty minutes. I used to come out here with Papa to collect firewood. He loved the smell of burning sandalwood. They’d converted to gas for cooking but he still liked to burn it in the lounge room fireplace. I’ve converted that to a Vulcan oil heater but with the price of oil lately I’m tempted to rip it out and go back to wood.’
‘Lori, how can you talk about the price of oil at a time like this?’
Lori looked over and smiled. ‘I’m sorry.’ She reached out and touched Aimee’s hand. ‘Thank you for trusting me on this one.’
‘That’s okay.’ And she realised she was trusting. It was not how she’d imagined feeling trust again. But there it was. She trusted Lori.
They drove on in silence, scanning the road in front of them and the surrounding sparse bush. Lori’s car didn’t have air-conditioning and despite winding all the windows down they were both sweating. There were dark clouds on the horizon and it looked like rain but the heat was so intense there were bubbles on the bitumen.
‘Oh, God!’
She looked at where Lori was pointing. Ahead of them was a car, half on the road, half off. It was Kerry’s, she recognised it from her home visits. She felt everything slow down—herself, the scenery around her, time. They pulled up next to the car. Kerry was slumped in the front seat. Lori leapt out. Aimee followed her, calm now, every one of her senses heightened, acute. She took in everything at once, the bush, the sound of a crow squawking, blowflies buzzing. She saw the broken window, Kerry’s pale face, her closed eyes. She watched Lori open the door, her hand fly to her mouth, then stand stock-still, her vision materialised in front of her. There was blood everywhere. Aimee stepped forward.
‘Lori, we need to feel for a pulse. Lori!’
Tears were running down Lori’s face.
‘Lori, get the two-way, quick.’ She pushed Lori aside and reached for Kerry’s unbandaged arm and felt for a pulse at the wrist. She pressed her two fingers into Kerry’s skin. Nothing. She reached up to her throat and tried there. She thought she felt something. She grabbed Kerry’s wrist again. Please, let her be alive. There, she felt it, faint, but there was one.
‘Lori, she’s alive, she’s alive,’ she yelled. ‘Oh, thank goodness. Lori, have you radioed base? Quick, we need to get her into your car.’
‘I’ve radioed. They’re sending an ambulance.’
‘We can’t wait, come on, lift her out and we’ll drive her in, even if we meet them halfway, we need to get moving.’
They reached into the car and lifted Kerry out, stumbling as they carried her across the bitumen. Aimee edged backwards into the rear seat, pulling Kerry in with her.
‘You drive and I’ll stay in here with her. Where’s the first-aid kit?’
‘Under your seat.’
She reached down and pulled out a leather case. Lori started driving. Kerry’s head lolled on her lap; she moaned softly. Aimee unzipped the case and ripped open a bandage with her teeth. She wasn’t sure what to do but she knew she had to apply pressure. She was afraid to take the material off Kerry’s arm so she wound the bandage around and around, pulling ever tighter, hoping it would stop the trickle of blood. When she got to the end of the bandage, she ripped it down the middle with her teeth and tied a knot then wiped away the trickle with her own shirt. Kerry moaned again. Lori looked around.
‘Has it stopped?’
‘Not yet. Drive faster.’
She wiped away the blood again and lifted Kerry’s wounded arm up against her own and held her hand. A few minutes later she could see poppet heads in the distance. She looked at the speedometer, they were doing seventy miles an hour but she didn’t care. She looked back at Kerry’s arm; the trickle had stopped. Laying her head back against the window she closed her eyes. A strange noise made her open them again. In front of them, flashing lights, an ambulance.
Lori pulled over sharply and leapt out, waving frantically in the middle of the road. Aime
e gasped in relief. It would be all right, she just knew. It would be all right. They were safe. Kerry would live.
Thank goodness for Aggie. And Lori. Thank goodness for Lori.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Evening settles in quickly over the desert dousing the sun’s blaze, but not the remnant heat lying thickly over the town, fraying tempers and unsettled put-to-bed children. With the summer holidays ended the town is quieter, fewer children play in the streets or parents talk over fences. It will be another month before the heat edges back and the dust storms settle, and Easter before any rain falls. With only nine inches a year, sprinklers dot every lawn and burst into action as the sun goes down, ensuring the green rectangles that make life bearable for many on the desert edge survive.
Lori was grateful for the breeze blowing in the window as she drove through the town to visit Aggie. She lay back in her seat and tried to relax. It had been hard to stop thinking about what had happened before they’d found Kerry last month—the picture she’d seen in her head and how to make sense of it all. To be truthful, it frightened her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see things like that. Yes, it meant they’d found Kerry, along with Aggie’s help, but what if she hadn’t shared it with Aimee, or Aimee hadn’t decided to ring Mrs Smith, or Amber hadn’t remembered the sandalwood track? Would Kerry still be alive, were some things meant to happen or was it all up to chance? Was it destiny or did she have a choice? It was confusing.
Last week, after a meal together, she’d spoken about it with Aimee.
Aimee didn’t believe in destiny. ‘I think we have choices, Lori,’ she’d said, ‘even though sometimes they’re limited. I’m not saying there aren’t strange things that happen but they’re probably coincidences and it’s how we respond to events that matters.’
The Secrets We Keep Page 12
