‘Of course you’re my mother,’ she said in exasperation. ‘What on earth are you on about now?’
‘Just don’t come crying to me when it all gets shot to hell,’ snapped Jeanette as she slid into the car and slammed the door.
Harriet frowned. Her mother’s jealousy of the affection shown by Rosa’s family had always been a contentious issue but this was more than envy, it was spiteful and it made no sense. She unlocked her MG and climbed in. With the roof down and her foot hard on the accelerator, she drove out of the underground car park and into the sun. There was little point in saying any more, not even goodbye.
*
Tom found Belinda Sullivan in the canteen. Max was lying under the table, his muzzle on his paws, brown eyes following each mouthful of egg and bacon his young mistress was devouring. ‘G’day, Tom,’ she said cheerfully as she fed the last piece of bacon to the drooling German Shepherd. ‘What can I do you for?’
Tom pulled out a chair and sat down. Belinda was what the other blokes called ‘A Lovely Big Girl’, a description she loathed, but nevertheless took on board with varying degrees of good humour. Her hair was thick and curly and was the same dark brown as her eyes. She was tall, her figure generous like her character but she was superbly fit, and he suspected it was all those years of riding and hauling hay bales around her parents’ sheep station that had made her so. ‘I need a favour,’ he began.
‘Thought you might,’ she murmured, her gaze steady on his face. ‘Go on, then. What is it?’
He decided to come straight to the point. ‘You know Dame Catriona Summers, don’t you?’
She nodded and grinned. ‘What’s this, Tom? Autograph hunting at your age?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s a bit more serious than that,’ he replied. He glanced around to ensure they weren’t being overheard. ‘I need to go out to Belvedere and talk to her, and I thought that since you’ve known her most of your life, you could come with me.’ He paused. ‘It’s a bit delicate, and it would be better if a woman officer was there,’ he finished.
Her dark eyes were steady, her expression serious. ‘Catriona’s been like a second mother to me,’ she said quietly. ‘I think you’d better explain exactly what you’re talking about.’
*
Harriet was taking her turn at the wheel. She and Rosa had decided to drive to Belvedere for a change. It was a chance to catch their breath and enjoy the countryside after their long months in the city. They had flown up to Rockhampton the previous morning, and having hired a car, they were now driving down the main street of Emerald and heading for Drum Creek and Belvedere Station.
Despite a good night’s sleep, she was still haunted by the argument with her mother, yet it was important she concentrated. These Outback roads were deceptively quiet, and road trains could appear from nowhere, hurtling down the road, making it necessary to get off the tarmac and out of the way.
Rosa ran her fingers through the spiky black hair she’d had liberally streaked bright pink for the holiday – the law courts frowned on such outlandish behaviour and she was determined to have a bit of fun while she was out of the office. ‘It’s good to be on the open roads,’ she said. ‘Even though Connor said he’d fly over to pick us up.’ She squinted over at Harriet who was concentrating on the road ahead. ‘He’s still single, you know,’ she said with a giggle. ‘You sure you don’t fancy him, Hat?’
Harriet pulled a face. ‘Don’t you start,’ she growled with mock severity. ‘I get enough of that from Mum.’
‘Oh, Hat,’ sighed Rosa. ‘You know he’s lovely, even Belinda’s still got the hots for him even after all these years.’
‘He’s handsome,’ she admitted. ‘But that’s as far as it goes. Strong, silent and masculine is all right if that’s what turns you on, but he’s your brother, and it would feel like incest.’ She giggled. ‘Apart from the fact my mother would have a purple fit if I was to hook up with him.’
Rosa laughed. ‘You don’t fool me, Harriet Wilson,’ she said. ‘I just know you won’t be able to resist much longer.’ Then she sighed. ‘There are definitely times I’m glad I’ve got Catriona,’ she said. ‘It saves a lot of energy not having to explain my every move like you do with your mother.’ She finger-combed her hair again, bringing further chaos to the tousled style as she stared out of the window.
The long boardwalks and shaded hotel verandahs had given way to enormous pastures and tiny wooden houses. ‘Gee, it’s been a while since I’ve been out this way,’ she sighed. ‘Everything looks so small, even though the town hasn’t changed since I was a kid.’ Her giggle was a deep sexy gurgle in the back of her throat that men found irresistible. ‘Strewth, Hat,’ she breathed. ‘The highlight of the week is an evening in the hotel. Even the blokes are still talking sheep and cattle and utility trucks; it’s all they think about. Thank God I escaped.’
Harriet grinned as she glanced over at her friend. Rosa, divorced and unencumbered with children, led a riotous social life when work allowed. She was determined to see out her twenties with a flourish. The eye make-up was striking, the black and pink hair gelled into spikes, the clothes a riot of colour. No one would guess she was the driving force of a small firm of solicitors who worked long hours defending the rights of those who couldn’t afford legal representation. Yet the lack of money, and the seemingly endless workload never appeared to dull her zest for life. Harriet was delighted they had remained close, despite her mother’s disapproval. ‘Reckon you could be in with Dwayne,’ she teased. ‘I saw the way he looked at you in the hotel last night.’
Rosa laughed and adjusted the seat-belt over the generous bosom that was in danger of spilling over the scarlet wraparound top. ‘Dwayne’s an old mate, but he’s part of the reason I couldn’t stay in the Outback. He’s not going anywhere, and like his dad and his grandad, he’ll stay put in Emerald until he turns up his toes.’
‘Fair go, Rosa. He’s a decent enough bloke, and although your get-up brought the male population of Emerald to a drooling standstill, he still shouted us dinner last night.’
Rosa giggled. ‘Perhaps the little black number was a bit daring,’ she said. ‘But to hell with it. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, and if that scares them rigid, at least it’ll give them something other than sheep to talk about for a while.’
Harriet grinned. The little black dress had barely covered the essentials and, as Rosa’s figure was lusciously top-heavy, the men of Emerald could barely keep their eyes off her every move in anticipation of seeing more. Rosa had no doubt chosen the wrong profession. She should have been an actress but then she was good at taking centre-stage in court, so maybe that was enough for her. ‘It’s lovely having the chance of two weeks together,’ she said as they picked up speed and headed down the highway. ‘But it’s a shame Belinda couldn’t make it. It would have been great for us all to be together again.’
Rosa pulled a face. ‘She’s up to her eyes in paperwork and drug-dealers. I don’t envy her one bit.’
‘I had to grovel to get time off; luckily I had some vacation owing. But I’m surprised you could escape.’
‘I haven’t had a break for months,’ Rosa sighed. ‘The work will still be piling up, but Mum’s birthday is more important.’ She grinned, her urchin face lighting up with mischief. ‘A girl can get bogged down and stale if she’s not careful, and it’s time I cut loose and shook a bit of life into the old place again.’
Harriet raised an eyebrow as she concentrated on the road. Rosa could never be stale, she had too much energy. As for cutting loose? Her appearance might give the impression she was still a larrikin, but beneath that veneer was a young woman who took her work very seriously. Yet, in the mood she was in today, God help the men of Belvedere.
Rosa adjusted the gaping top and leaned back in the seat, her eyes closed. Her slim legs were encased in tight, multi-coloured patchwork jeans, which were cinched at the waist by a broad belt of purple leather. Her feet were bare and the toe rings and silver and turqu
oise anklet glinted in the sun. ‘Give me the open road,’ she sighed. ‘The wind in my hair, the sun on my face.’ She opened one eye and grinned at Harriet. ‘But only for a while, all this emptiness can get claustrophobic.’
Hattie understood how life in any small town had to be difficult, but with the added restriction of hundreds of miles surrounding each tiny settlement, the phrase, ‘neighbourhood watch’ took on a whole new meaning. But as they drove through the endless ochre land with its termite mounds, green pastures and graceful eucalyptus trees, she couldn’t help but feel drawn once more to the great openness of Australia’s Outback. There was a primitive splendour here, the sky so high and wide above the starkly beautiful land that she could almost sense the ancient ones who’d come before. As Billy Birdsong had often told her, they were truly in the heart of the Great Dreaming. ‘Dreamscapes,’ she murmured. ‘We’re driving through dreamscapes.’
Rosa squinted in the sun as she turned to look at her. ‘You’re not going all poetic on me, are you Hat?’
Harriet smiled. ‘Probably,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s what Catriona once called it, and I have to agree with her. The majesty of this place brings out the romantic in me. Can’t help it.’
Rosa nodded. ‘Majestic it might be,’ she said. ‘But you just try living out here for more than a couple of months at a time. It’s hot, dry and fly-bound or freezing, flooded and impossible to escape. The men are mostly the strong silent type – very boring if you want a bit of a laugh – and would probably run a mile if a girl so much as looked as if she might pounce. Give me Sydney any day.’
Harriet wasn’t sure she agreed with this sentiment. The wide open spaces were alluring after the bustle and noise of The Rocks where she had a small Victorian terraced house. The road was empty of cars, the air so pure, it made her quite dizzy. She didn’t miss the chaos of the morning traffic in the city, or the crowds on the pavements, and had realised long ago that this was another world, one in which she felt very at ease. ‘You must be looking forward to seeing Connor again,’ she said as she steered around a dead kangaroo and its accompanying flock of scavenging crows.
‘Yeah, it’ll be good. Been too long, really, but our worlds are so different, and it’s a long way for either of us to travel. I doubt we’ll have much to say to one another after all this time. Sad really, but that’s life.’ She scooted back in the seat and closed her eyes. ‘He never was one for long conversations, and will no doubt bore us with the price of cattle and the state of the beef markets. But it’ll be good to see Mum again. It’s over a year since my last visit, and talking on the phone isn’t really the same.’ She yawned expansively. ‘Wake me up when it’s my turn to drive,’ she muttered.
The hours drifted by and the view from the front mirrored that behind them – endless miles of narrow bitumen disappearing beyond both horizons. The Great Dividing Range stretched away to her right, the smaller ranges lying in a purple haze beyond the Outback bush. The scenery was magnificent, and as the miles brought her nearer to Belvedere she eagerly began to look for the first signs of her second home.
*
Despite all her good intentions, Catriona had spent two restless nights, and rose well before dawn that day. Her mind was too active, the memories too demanding for sleep, and she realised she couldn’t ignore the past any longer. Having seen to Archie, she took her cup of tea into the lounge and sat looking at the trunk. Her past life was in there – the very essence of who she was – yet she couldn’t quite find the courage to open it.
The shadows were drawing ever closer despite the brightness of the electric light and she thought she could hear the ghostly voices calling to her from beyond this fragile life. She closed her eyes and tried to will them to silence. They refused to be ignored – and with them came the sights and sounds she thought had long gone with another age, another world. Yet these whispering voices brought not only the scents and music of those memories, but a sharp reminder of when her youthful innocence had been no protector from life’s harsher lessons.
*
Harriet leaned back in the passenger seat and eased the waistband of her jeans. Her mother would have been delighted with her outfit, she thought with a wry smile, for the blue denim was stone-washed and clung to her figure, and the sleeveless turquoise blouse was layered chiffon with a pale yellow lining and anything but sombre and sensible. She ran her hands through her heavy hair, lifting it from her neck so the air could circulate. Her turquoise earrings matched the nugget which was suspended from a delicate silver chain around her neck. Rosa had given it to her as a birthday present long ago, stating that turquoise held magic properties. Harriet was sceptical, but she always felt calm and at peace when she wore it, so accepted the fantasy.
‘Nearly there,’ muttered Rosa as she lit another cigarette and pointed to the dirt track which meandered off the road and disappeared into the bush. They had been on Belvedere land since leaving Drum Creek.
Harriet snapped her thoughts back to the present, and with excited anticipation, looked out at her surroundings.
Rosa slowed the car, turned off the road and drove beneath the broad-beamed archway that had BELVEDERE STATION burned into the wood. The track’s bitumen had long since been washed away, and the salmon-coloured earth meandered through the overhanging trees and around the great clumps of spinnifex grass which waved plumed heads in the breeze created by the passing car.
Bush wallabies stood alert, ears turning like tiny radar dishes as they watched the intruders with curious brown eyes. Birds rose complaining from the trees, and a herd of feral goats bounded out of the way as Rosa navigated a path around the potholes and deep tyre tracks. A timid echidna swiftly buried itself in the road-side dirt as sun-basking goannas scuttled away, their deadly claws digging into the bark as they raced up the nearest tree.
Harriet gripped the door handle and tried to maintain some kind of balance as the rental car dipped and jolted and swayed over the ruts. ‘Just remember the fifteen hundred dollars waiver we’ll lose if we damage it,’ she grunted as Rosa crunched the gears and one of the rear wheels caught a deep rift in the track, making the exhaust scrape on the scree.
‘Can’t be helped,’ muttered Rosa. ‘Connor said he was going to get this fixed years ago.’
The track was obviously little used, and would probably have cost a fortune to tarmac, so Harriet could understand Connor’s reluctance to repair it. She stared out at the scenery, her breath catching as they came out of the shade of the trees and crested the low hill. Belvedere lay sprawled in the valley beneath them. Mellow in the afternoon sun, as familiar and welcoming as it had always been. She breathed a sigh of contentment. She’d come home.
*
Catriona sat at the dressing-table and eyed her reflection. Sleepless nights and dark thoughts were playing havoc with her complexion she realised, as she plastered on make-up and brushed her hair. Drawing the strand of pearls from her jewellery box, she fastened it around her neck and put the matching studs in her ears.
Her diamond rings glittered as she stood and smoothed the dress over her hips. It was the colour of butter, narrow and straight, falling to just below the knee. A chiffon scarf and low-heeled pumps were her only accessories. It would have to do. She took a deep breath and forced a smile: the girls were coming home and she was damned if she was going to let them see she was worried about anything.
The sound of a car approaching turned her to the window. It was them. Hurrying out of the room she crashed through the screen door and arrived at the bottom of the verandah steps at the same time as the car.
‘Mum!’ Rosa flung her arms around her, almost knocking her off her feet.
‘Catriona,’ shouted Harriet as she too embraced her.
She held on to them tightly, reluctant to let them go. Her girls were home again.
Everything would be all right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Harriet left Rosa and Catriona to catch up on their news, and walked down the narrow hallway
and out through the screen door to the verandah. The murmur of voices came from the lounge, and although the words were indistinct, she could tell by the laughter that Rosa was regaling her mother with her city exploits.
Harriet leaned against the verandah railings and took a deep breath of the warm, scented air, and experienced the familiar contentment that always came when she visited Belvedere. She looked out over the vast clearing, at the Station buildings, the pens and corrals and compared them with her usual surroundings, drinking in the scenery, remembering her childhood days here. It was far removed from her city life.
In Sydney she would be at her desk, or battling traffic on the way to court. Her view from the window was of a different kind of majesty, with glass towers overlooking the rippling water which flowed past the elegant sails of the Opera House. She spent her working day in the studious hush of the Law, and the ritual of the Court System – the constrictions of her chosen profession. But here? Here was freedom.
She sighed with pleasure. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, the heat a shimmering haze over the surrounding land and outbuildings. A road-train had pulled in, a vast, articulated lorry with three live-stock trailers bringing a cloud of dust in its wake. This dust eddied and swirled and finally settled in a rusty veil over everything as the mob of bellowing bullocks was herded up the ramps and into the double-tiered pens.
Connor had yet to come to the homestead to welcome them, but he turned now and grinned, tipping his hat in acknowledgement. Harriet watched him and the other men for a while until she realised that she too was under covert scrutiny. It was there in the glances beneath sweat-stained bush-hats, there in the studied nonchalance as they strolled back and forth and tried to look as if they were gainfully occupied rather than checking her out.
She dipped her head and bit back on a smile. There were no catcalls and wolf-whistles, but it reminded her of the terrors of walking past city building sites – and that was something she’d not worried about for years – so, in a way it was flattering to be such a focus of attention.
Dreamscapes Page 37
