Mountain Ash

by Margareta Osborn

  Nate reached in the window of Clem’s ute and scruffed his hair. ‘As if you can talk.’

  ‘Hey, I wasn’t the one who pinched the old man’s sheila.’

  Nate grimaced and Clem immediately backtracked. ‘Sorry, mate. That was a bit below the belt.’

  ‘It was below the belt that fucked it all up,’ said Nate with a weak smile.

  Clem’s expression was sympathetic. ‘Safe travelling, mate.’

  Nate took the proffered hand in a firm grip. ‘Be careful up there. I want my partner in prime condition, not charred.’

  Clem nodded, looked grim for a moment, then said, ‘I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon.’ And he left, the ute’s chunky tyres spinning up a hailstorm of stones.

  Nate went back into the cabin and pottered around aimlessly for a while. He sat on the verandah and watched the hazy red sun slowly sink below the horizon. It was still light when he decided he may as well hit the road now. Get out of town. What was the point of waiting until morning? He rang Wal.

  ‘How about we head off now?’

  ‘Thought you’d never ask,’ said the older man. ‘Mue’s going to stay up at Glenevelyn tonight rather than come back down here. We’ve already said goodbyes.’

  ‘Why’s she staying up there?’

  ‘Argh, she just wanted to keep an eye on Alex,’ said Wal. ‘He’s been drinking a bit.’

  And didn’t he know about that. His last meeting with his stepfather was still fresh in his mind. ‘Good luck to her then.’

  Nate rang off. Once he’d locked up Clem’s cabin and loaded Rupert onto the tray he took one last look around. He knew how incredibly simple it was to just get in his ute and drive away – after all, he’d done it plenty of times over the past years. Problem was, this time was different. He was leaving a part of his heart behind. On McCauley’s Hill. With a woman. A will-o’-the-wisp who, come the next few days, would be gone herself.

  Nate cranked up the ute and drove towards Narree. He was bitterly aware the whole time that McCauley’s Hill sat silently hunkered into the landscape at his right shoulder.

  Beckoning. Taunting. Forbidding.

  He drove on.

  The first warning was a text from Stacey on Jodie’s mobile. Fire could be headed your way. Keep eye on it. Stace was in the local fire brigade and just a wee bit prone to hit the panic button early, so Jodie didn’t really take much notice. She was too busy packing the last of their stuff. The horse float was laden with gear, the final load ready to be driven out the next morning to the storage garage in Narree she’d hired for six months. The flat on the property they were going to was fully furnished. They wouldn’t need much beyond personal gear and, of course, all Milly’s soft toys. These were the problem right at the minute. Getting them all to fit in the very last small box she had was proving difficult.

  ‘I’ll sit on it, Mum. That’ll do the trick.’

  Jodie didn’t think Milly’s slight weight would help much. ‘How about I sit on the box and you tape it?’

  Milly looked doubtful. ‘What about we ring Nate? He’ll get it all in. He knows how to fix everything.’

  If she heard Nathaniel McGregor’s name come out of her daughter’s mouth one more time she’d scream. ‘I think we can manage, Milly.’

  ‘But Nate –’

  ‘We can manage, Milly.’ It didn’t come out quite as a yell, more a wheeze with a high-end note. If damn Nathaniel McGregor didn’t exist on this earth she wouldn’t be pregnant: she might even be safely married to Alex, living the high life at Glenevelyn and not here trying to pack her whole life into a ute.

  Shit. No. That would not have been a good marriage, baby or no. And this was getting her nowhere. Jodie glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty: long past Milly’s bedtime.

  ‘Mummy,’ said Milly, standing beside the radio, ‘the news just said there’s a fire above Lake Grace. They’re saying if you’re going to leave, leave early. Is that us?’ The little girl looked worried.

  Jodie immediately went into soothing-mother mode. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Travis would have told us if there was.’

  ‘But he’s gone away for a long weekend. He and Tammy took Billy to the beach, remember? They asked me to go too but you said I couldn’t cause we were leaving?’

  Jodie did remember. Was that this weekend? The weeks had just flown by. She must be about four and a half months pregnant by now.

  ‘Well, I’m sure someone would have told us.’ Then she remembered Stace’s text. Jodie asked her daughter to get ready for bed, and while Milly was busy she grabbed her mobile phone and tapped out a message to Stace. Where is fire? Should I be worried?

  Her friend’s message came back quickly. Not sure. They’re saying it’s the most unpredictable fire behaviour they’ve ever seen.

  Jodie chewed her lip. Should she get out now? As Milly reminded her, they always said if you were going to go, to leave early. Her phone binged again. Wind not due to get up until at least 9am. Fire is miles away. You should be right until morning. Have another look then.

  While Milly was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, Jodie snuck outside the back door and looked around at the night sky. The air was very dry and warm, which was unusual at this time of night. Usually there was some moisture in the air. She walked around the house and gazed out across the black hulking ranges. Sniffed the air. She couldn’t see anything and all she could smell was smoke, but they’d been smelling that for days. Embers – cold blackened leaves and twigs – had been falling too.

  With an uneasy feeling pitting her stomach and Floss following, Jodie went back inside to put her daughter to bed. Milly looked lonely without her toys clambering for bed space. Her daughter’s face was pinched with worry. ‘Mummy? Is the fire coming?’

  ‘No, sweetheart. Stacey says it’s miles away. Don’t you worry. Just close your eyes and count sheep. We’ve got a big drive ahead of us in a couple of days.’

  ‘I wish we didn’t have to go,’ said Milly.

  And didn’t Jodie know that feeling. ‘I wish it too, mate, but unfortunately we have to.’

  ‘But why, Mum? Why do we have to leave Muey, and Billy and Clem and … and … Nate?’

  Why? Because she was afraid. She was scared witless she would succumb to Nate, and then she’d come to rely on him, love him. And he’d leave. Just like everyone else she’d ever loved with all her heart. Her mum, Rhys, even her dad in the end. And she wasn’t going to put her children through that agony. She was a mother first and foremost. She had to protect them.

  ‘Because we just do.’ She kissed her daughter on the cheek, received a peck in return. ‘Now, Floss looks like she’s going to keep you company while you go to sleep.’ The dog had laid down beside her daughter. Jodie moved to leave the room, but before she did she cast one more look at her little girl, lying on her makeshift bed, a pink swag rolled out on the floor. Long blonde hair braided into plaits, a tiny dot of a child it was Jodie’s privilege and duty to care for. She touched her belly. And there was another one in there.

  Jodie sighed and walked back into her little kitchen to finish packing. Maybe she’d make a cup of tea and just sit down for a few minutes. The dry heat of the night was making her feel all lightheaded. Both she and Milly had been working so hard. After she unloaded the final horse float in town tomorrow, there were only Parnie and Buggsy to go. They were going to Clem’s. Just as Nate was leaving Warrior at Clem’s. It was poetic justice really that their horses could be together while the owners couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Jodie boiled the kettle, made herself a cuppa, and then sat down on the only piece of furniture she owned that was still in the house. A bean bag. She made sure she left the radio on in the background. She needed to keep an eye on this fire.

  It was around eleven when Nate and Wal hit the New South Wales border. ‘Want to roll the swag out now?’ said Nate.

  Wal yawned. He’d been napping anyway. ‘Yeah, no worries.’

  In the beam of his headlights, Nate fou
nd a likely spot to camp, a track diving off to the left. It’d do for a bit of shut-eye for a few hours. He pulled the ute into the scrub. Both men got out, grabbed their swags. Nate let Rupert off for a wee and a scratch around, but then chained him up again. Wild dogs would likely be in the vicinity and he didn’t want Rupert wandering.

  ‘We’ll head off at first light, that suit?’

  ‘Okay with me,’ said Wal in his usual easy-going way.

  It was good to be back on the road again, for sure, but Nate couldn’t shrug off the feeling that this time he was leaving, rather than heading towards new horizons. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. It wasn’t sitting comfortable in his bones at all.

  And he couldn’t sleep. Wal was snoring loud enough to keep any wild animal away – far too loudly to allow his mate to get some shut-eye. He lay on his back and stared up at the stars, arms behind his head, counting. Milly had told him that was how she got to sleep on the nights the sandman wouldn’t come. Milly. Which led, of course, to Jodie. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was always there just lurking on the edges, waiting to jump out and grab hold of his heart and wring it like a dishcloth.

  He got up and decided to hike up the pile of rocks he could see in the moonlight. Taking a head torch out of the ute cab, he set off. It would only take him ten minutes and Wal wouldn’t miss him: the man was snoring as loud as a Stihl chainsaw at full throttle. Possibly louder. Nate shook his head and wondered how Mue coped with it. Which then led him to thinking about Jodie again. Enough! Stop it! he instructed himself. She doesn’t want you.

  He walked through the bush, following a brumby trail towards the rocks that reminded him of Ram’s Horn, a huge pile of boulders at home with the most incredible view out across the ranges. A bit like the view from Jodie’s front verandah. Fuck it.

  Nate pushed himself to climb higher and higher, clambering up over the great prehistoric stones, using the head torch and moonlight to guide his way, until he was right at the very pinnacle of the outcrop. The view would have been spectacular in the daylight. By night it was as if he’d climbed a part of the staircase to heaven. The silence was deafening. Even Wal’s snores couldn’t be heard from here.

  That was until a piercing ring shattered the stillness. His mobile phone. He’d forgotten he had it on him. He thought they’d lost service an hour back. The phone stopped. He’d been too slow.

  He dragged it out. Missed call

  Just as he was punching a key to trip the light again so he could take another look, the phone rang a second time.

  ‘Nate here.’

  ‘Where are you?’ Clem. Ever straight to the point.

  ‘Sitting on a pile of rocks on the New South Wales border. Why? Where are you?’

  But his last couple of words were drowned out by Clem swearing. ‘Why the fuck aren’t you still at home?’

  ‘I left early. You got a problem with that?’

  ‘I fucking sure do. That fire I was on today, it’s headed here. I’ve just spoken to one of the dozer drivers. It’s moving so fucking fast they can’t track it. The machines putting in the fire breaks can’t hold it. They’re pulling out. It’s too dangerous.’

  Jodie.

  Holy hell, Jodie!

  ‘You need to get back here. They’re expecting this thing to come out of the bush in a couple of hours. The old man. Jodie. Maybe even Mue. They might all be in strife.’

  Chapter 43

  Both men barely said a word as they travelled.

  After Nate had hauled Wal from his swag and explained the situation, Wal’s only question was, ‘How long have they got?’

  Nate didn’t know. He wouldn’t have any phone service until he got closer to home. He’d tried to ring Jodie before he left the rocks but she wasn’t answering. The answering machine wasn’t on either. Probably disconnected. And he knew her mobile phone service was dodgy at the best of times, up on that hill surrounded by the scrub, but tonight, with everyone on the network at once, it would be horrendous. He tried it all the same. It went straight to message bank.

  His heart felt like it was somewhere in his throat, choking the life out of him. How the hell was she going to cope? A pregnant woman on her own with a little daughter. At least she’d have Travis Hunter. He only knew the man by reputation but he was sure he’d get her out of there. That was if he was home. The man went walk-a-bout up the bush chasing dogs. He might even be on the fire-line. His own wife and son would be safe enough down on the irrigated flats. There’d be flying embers to worry about but at least not the fire front itself.

  Back and forth went Nate’s mind, careering between soothing itself and getting all het up. It was a nightmare not knowing. If only he’d been able to talk to her, to tell her to get the hell out of there.

  Jodie woke from a nightmare in which Nate was about to punch the crap out of Alex to the sound of her phone trilling. Bleary-eyed she glanced at the screen. Talk about the devil – or angel, depending on how you looked at it. It was Nathaniel McGregor’s number (and just how she’d memorised it she wasn’t even going to think about). Well, she wasn’t answering his call. She couldn’t bear to hear his deep voice, so near yet so far away. It just made the heartbreak all the worse. The answering machine had been packed away, so she let the phone ring out. Next would be her mobile. Well, that wouldn’t help him because reception was pretty much non-existent up here.

  Obviously she’d fallen asleep. The dregs from her cup of tea were now a wet mark on her jeans. The room was filled with the strong smell of smoke. A strange orange glow hovered in the darker corners of the room, which was ordinarily lit by one single hanging globe. She got up and walked quickly to the back door.

  Out onto the lawn.

  Reeled back in shock.

  Oh. My. God. The whole sky was aglow. It was like the city of Melbourne had picked itself up and taken residence behind McCauley’s Hill. It took precious minutes for Jodie to catapult from shock to terror. The fire. It was coming. They had to get out. She and Milly had to leave. Now. Before it was too late.

  Shit. The horses.

  She ran back inside and shook Milly awake. Took a few more precious minutes to explain the situation to her daughter.

  ‘Milly, I need you to stay calm and do as I say. Okay?’ Jodie had her hands on Milly’s shoulders and the little girl’s sleepy eyes stared up at her with complete trust. Oh God.

  ‘We have to leave here. The fire’s coming but I need to let the horses out.’

  ‘Buggsy!’ said Milly. ‘Will he be all right?’

  ‘I hope so. If I open the gate they can then run to a safer place.’ She hoped that sounded okay to the child’s ears. Jodie loved her animals and didn’t want to see them burned alive but she loved her child more. She’d do what she could but then the horses would have to take their chances. ‘While I’m gone grab as many buckets you can see in the horse float and fill them with water. And a couple of mops, some towels if you can. They should be near the front of the trailer near the access door. All right? Fill the bath with water too. We might need it.’ Like hell. They were getting out of here. The place could burn. Human life was worth more than a structure. But getting water and mops would keep Milly busy and either very near or inside the house, which was the safest place for the child while Jodie let Parnie and Buggsy loose.

  Milly was nodding, her eyes squinting. She wasn’t quite fully awake.

  Jodie gave her a little shake. ‘You need to put on a hat, some long pants, a flannelette cotton shirt, and your riding boots. Cover yourself up. You hear me?’

  Her daughter nodded again. She crawled out of the swag and started rooting around for her clothes. Jodie could see the poor kid was starting to shake. She took hold of Milly’s face, turned it to her, stared into her eyes. ‘We’ll be okay, Milly Molly Dooks. Mum will make sure we’re fine. The green irrigated flats are at the bottom of our hill. We just need to get organised. I’ll leave Floss here with you to keep you company. I’ll only be five minutes or so.’


  Milly gave a little gulp. She was fully awake now. ‘Okay, Mummy.’

  Jodie gave her daughter a reassuring smile but inside she was screaming, Oh my fucking God. She spun and raced to her own case. Grabbed out some natural fibre clothes to cover her body. Slammed on her Akubra and a face mask that happened to be sitting on the windowsill. Ordering Floss to stay with Milly, she ran full pelt out the back door and was petrified to see the glow had got brighter. Embers were falling from the sky. She grabbed a leaf and felt it. It was really warm. She needed to move. Fast.

  Milly yelled from the back door, ‘The radio’s saying McCauley’s Hill will be impacted in the next hour. Hurry, Mum!’

  As Jodie ran up the hill, she was thinking that gave her about ten minutes to get out of here. Time to open the paddock gate, get the horses on their way and then drive the hell off this hill. Hard on the heels of that thought came self-recrimination. So much for the radio’s advice to leave early. She should have just got them all out, the horses included, last night, just in case. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep. She shouldn’t have been so tired. She shouldn’t … she shouldn’t … be doing this.

  She staggered to the brow of the hill. Could see Buggsy near the entry to the paddock, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head with terror. Of Parnie there was no sign.

  Jodie frantically scanned the paddock. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the shine of her torch. Where the hell was her horse?

  Embers were falling all around her up here. The radio must’ve been wrong. The fire couldn’t be an hour away. Her heart was racing, her head in a turmoil. What to do? She couldn’t leave Parnie here on his own. But what if he didn’t know he could get out? He’d be cooked. She opened the gate and was nearly run down by Buggsy trying to get away from the embers – leaves, twigs and even small tree branches all falling in a maelstrom of debris from the sky. Milly’s pony took off into the gloom.

  To Jodie’s horror, she could hear a constant sound in the distance. A throb, a subdued roar of some sort. She ran into the paddock knowing she only had time for one pass with the torch, if that. Taking off at a run she yelled, ‘Parnie! Parnie! Come here, mate. Parnassus, where are you?’