The One Who Kisses: A Heartwarming Australian Outback Romance

by Lucy Walker

  ‘You drink to my health, Kate.’

  ‘I do, Rick. To your very good health. You are the nicest flirt I’ve ever known. Come to Sydney some time. I could do with a lot of those brotherly compliments.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Rick. ‘They come easier by the dozen.’

  Kate wondered at the way she listened to and weighed up every word. Everything he did and said had to be sifted and weighed and its inner meaning sought.

  She turned away from him and sat down in a corner chair.

  Rick too sat down.

  ‘Are you going back to Sydney, Kate? That’s a long way off.’

  ‘My mother’s there. Yes, I’m going back to Sydney.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Very soon.’

  The two ‘B’s came in the door together.

  ‘I feel as if there’s something very wrong about this party, Bertha,’ Mrs. Benallen said. ‘Kate’s with the wrong man.’

  ‘Rick has a different girl every night, so what’s the odds?’ Kate said. ‘Last night Peg … to-night me … to-morrow … who?’

  ‘Mrs. Railton,’ Rick said promptly. ‘To-morrow I’m trucking sheep and I’m going round to the shack afterwards for a game of poker.’

  ‘Trucking sheep … for what train?’ Kate asked.

  ‘They’re going north,’ he replied carelessly. ‘Will you be in Blackwood, Kate? Come down to the yards … but don’t wear anything good, the dust is frightful. But you’ll see some fun.’

  ‘Yes,’ Kate said. ‘Yes. I might do that.’

  He had poured sherry for the two older women.

  ‘Come on and have tea,’ Mrs. de Berhans said. ‘Harriet, bring your sherry with you. If Rick’s trucking you’ll want an early night and Kate has to get back to Appleton. You will take her, won’t you?’

  ‘Across the world if you say,’ Rick said. He grinned impishly.

  It was only ten-thirty when they drove Kate up to the homestead at Appleton, but the Westons had all retired. There was an outside yard light on for her and the veranda light. On the breakfast table there was a covered glass of milk and a biscuit. Rick brought her inside.

  ‘Good-night, Kate.’

  ‘Good-night, Rick.’ She turned away. She could not bear to look at him. She could not bear to see him go.

  ‘If only I knew …’ she thought. ‘If only I knew.’ She stood by the table drinking the milk and listening to the sound of his feet going up the garden path. The little gate clicked. The car door banged. The engine started up and the headlights swung round in a great arc. The car thrummed quietly and beautifully down the drive, away along between the paddocks … through the gate to the main road … down between the avenue of jarrahs … away and away towards the river.

  ‘Good-bye, Rick …’

  Monday. The day of Kate’s departure. The Westons took it as a matter-of-fact event. Uncle Harry said he was ‘damned sorry’ and offered Kate a second helping of satsuma plums. Hal, dressed in his khaki pants and kangaroo-skin jacket, debated as to whether he would go out-back and send Mick in with the car to take Kate to the station … or whether he would send Mick out-back and go in to the station himself.

  Mrs. Weston said she wished to goodness people would make up their minds and stick to them. In her day, now, people didn’t go home at such short notice and young men did at least pay their guests the final courtesy of seeing them off.

  Peg said ‘Everything’s rotten at the heart of Rome … is that the right quotation, Kate?’

  ‘In the State of Denmark,’ said Kate.

  ‘Where did you get your learning from?’ Peg asked.

  ‘Books,’ said Kate.

  ‘Books? Oh yes … I had one given to me for Christmas once.’

  In the midst of it all Beatrix rang up from Kattanup and said John was bringing her down in his Dove plane and they would land on the recreation ground in Blackwood. She’d be at the station to see Kate off … and what the devil was she thinking of going away like that!

  There was silence from Annabel and Albany, but the bush telegraph had it that Tom Watson was coming to Blackwood by car … and his wife was with him. On this subject Mrs. Weston’s mouth was set in a grim line.

  ‘Ha!’ she snorted. ‘Let him show up here. Just let him. I’ve a bill for the maintenance of his wife and children that’ll set him back a year or two!’

  Except for these astonishing conversations the day passed as other weekdays on Appleton did. Kate found it hard to believe that it was only Monday a fortnight ago she had arrived. She felt as if she had lived a lifetime with the Westons.

  Moreover, now that she was to leave them, she felt an inexplicable affection for them all … and all their idiosyncrasies. Even Mrs. Weston became her favourite horror-character … one to be savoured and enjoyed, and no longer feared.

  They, all of them … Judity, Burns, Mick, Bill, Sixpence, Riley, together with the members of the family, took on the trappings and characters of a tragi-comedy that had been played out with Kate the unconscious heroine. She felt as the star actress must feel when she is parting with her company at the end of the performance.

  The last lunch … with its cold lamb, its salads and pickles and fruits and lovely gay china on the white cloth came and went. Uncle Harry and Hal sat with their legs sprawling in front of them, their wide slouch hats at rest on the floor under their chairs. Peg fidgeted with the children instead of Annabel. Mrs. Weston complained about the rheumatism in her knee.

  Hal got the big car out of the garage and Mick came on to the veranda and carried Kate’s cases out to the car. She had a blue tailored coat over the pink linen suit … and the little white petal hat … just for sentiment’s sake.

  Kate shook hands with Uncle Harry and Mrs. Weston. She said good-bye to Sugar and Baby and Judity and kissed Peg. She went to the phone and spoke to Beatrix, who had landed in Blackwood and would see her at the train shortly.

  Kate stood looking at the phone switchboard for a minute. Then she plugged through to Allandale.

  ‘Mrs. Benallen? It’s Kate I … I just wanted to say good-bye. I’m going home on this afternoon’s train … Yes, I’m going to-day.’

  ‘But Kate, why?’

  ‘Hal and I have called it off. I rather wanted to go to-day.’

  ‘Kate, you haven’t said good-bye to Rick. He’s in Blackwood. Oh bother! Bother! Bother! He’ll have finished trucking … he’ll never know you’re on that train. Oh Kate, you naughty girl.’

  ‘You say good-bye to him for me. I’ll send him a postcard for Christmas.’

  ‘I won’t do anything of the kind. He’s in Blackwood. You look out for him. Promise me, Kate?’

  ‘I’ll look out for him.’

  ‘Good-bye, dear.’

  ‘Good-bye, Mrs. Benallen.’

  ‘Kate dear … come and see us again.’

  ‘I’d like to … sometime. Good-bye.’

  ‘Good-bye, dear.’

  Kate plugged out and stood with her hand pressed against her head. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth. Then she straightened herself, turned round and walked back, around the veranda corner, to the others. She shook hands all over again with Uncle Harry and Mrs. Weston.

  Then Hal took her out to the car. Mick came too.

  ‘Burns is up the drive, Hal,’ Mick said. ‘I guess he wants to go in too. Rick’s coming out in the early morning … he’ll bring us back. We’ll be here sun-up … Rick’ll see to it.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Hal. ‘Get in.’

  He swore under his breath.

  ‘I’ll see Rick myself … he’d better not bring Burns home if he’s got to carry him. I’ll throw him out.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Mick. ‘You’d better step on it, Hal. You’ve twenty miles to go and twenty-one minutes to catch the train. That’s a mile a minute.’

  The ‘super-sonic’ sped along the drive. At the gate Burns swung it open and then climbed on the running board and let himself in the back seat as the car accelerat
ed along the main road to Blackwood.

  ‘I sure blinkin’ well am sorry you’re goin’, miss,’ he said. ‘I surely am.’

  They flew along the road and gravel shot out from under the wheels like a fine protesting spray. They passed the School Hall, the dip into the valley and the bridge where some other more mythical car had once hit a cow and plastered the poor beast over the trees. Kate remembered the story as they swung down the deep decline. The narrow bridge was empty.

  They passed Castillons’ and Mick remarked that the train would have been in ten minutes already. There was a twenty-minute tea wait at Blackwood.

  ‘Don’t matter if she goes,’ Burns said. ‘She stops at the water tanks a quarter of a mile on. You could get on there.’

  Kate didn’t answer. She much preferred the more legitimate boarding of the train from the official platform. And she wished Hal didn’t always cut things so fine. She had wanted to look at the forest and the orchards and the smoke rising in the chimney of Houston’s orchards. She had wanted to count, in hard cash the limousines that would line Blackwood when the train was in.

  The car skidded round in front of the station and Hal helped Kate out while Mick and Burns scrambled for the luggage. They hurried on to the platform. Beatrix and Annabel were there. They had their two men with them. Kate, getting into the train, had only time to look in their faces, and like them. Annabel’s husband was shorter and more thick-set than Kate had expected. John Campbell was exactly Kate’s idea of an RAAF squadron leader.

  Medium height, dark-haired, blue-eyed … very straight … and very nice.

  ‘Hullo and good-bye,’ Kate said through the window. She took her ticket and a box of chocolates from Hal.

  ‘Thank you all so much for coming to see me off … I’m so very sorry we’re late.’

  ‘Blame Hal,’ said Beatrix. ‘He’s always late.’

  ‘Kate dear … I’m so sorry you’re going,’ Annabel said. ‘I wish I hadn’t gone away and left you …’

  ‘I don’t,’ Kate smiled. ‘Look what’s happened to you. Hang on to him, Annabel.’

  The train whistled again.

  ‘Good-bye … all.’

  She leaned out of the train and watched the receding figures on the platform. Well, she couldn’t complain her departure had been flat. It had been too quick to be painful.

  The train did not gather much speed. It was a steam train and had to stop at the water tanks presently.

  Kate was alone in her carriage and she stood up and looked in the mirror.

  ‘I don’t look any different … It just seems the same old me. But inside me …’

  She sat down and looked out of the window.

  A horseman came full gallop along the main street, running out of the town and parallel with the railway line.

  ‘If he weren’t dressed like that I’d think he was trying to catch the train,’ Kate thought.

  The horseman had the slouch hat and inevitable denim shirt and khaki trousers.

  He overtook the train; his horse jumped the low signal wires and was running along the embankment.

  ‘Why, it’s Rick!’

  Perhaps he was coming to say good-bye to her. He would call out to her in a minute. She leaned out the window and watched him.

  ‘Oh Rick, how gallant of you! Someone told you I was going, after all!’

  She was talking to herself but she felt her gratitude burgeoning forth towards the rider. Her eyes were smarting with tears.

  He saw her and waved his hat.

  The train slowed to a crawl now as it crossed the points and came towards the tanks. Perhaps he would come and talk to her.

  Rick was riding right up alongside. He stood up in his stirrups; then swinging one leg over the horse, he caught hold of the hand-rail outside the train. He kicked his foot free of the stirrup and, giving it one jerk back, kicked the horse clear of the train.

  He stood on the running-board, his eyes smiling at Kate.

  Then, hand over hand, he had to pull himself along until he came to the main door. Kate leaned out of the window and watched him.

  His horse had swerved away and was galloping along the embankment. She sat down suddenly.

  She could hear him clumping up the corridor … a brigade of soldiers!

  Perhaps he was going up to Kattanup … or something …

  Rick was at the glass door. He slid it open. He took off his slouch hat and sent it spiralling on to the far seat. Then he began to roll two cigarettes.

  The engine had stopped under the water tanks and Kate could hear the water gurgling down the long canvas shoots.

  ‘Rick? Where … are you going, Rick?’

  He lit her cigarette and handed it to her.

  ‘I’m damned if I know, Peaches,’ he said. He smiled at her gently. ‘You didn’t think I was going to let you go without me, did you?’

  ‘Oh …!’

  He sat down beside her and took her hand. He held it against his cheek.

  She said ‘Oh …!’ again. Then he put his arm round her and held her tight against his heart.

  ‘For ever and ever,’ Kate thought. ‘For ever and ever.’

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  The River is Down

  Girl Alone

  The One Who Kisses

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